#I’m just picturing them whining about a splinter and then just making out with everyone

[whalehouse1]

Sees Cissie kiss Tim after she quits and he tells her to do what’s best for her.

Me: Where in God’s name did that come from?

Later sees Kon kiss Cassie after she does an interview. Has seen panels where Tim and Cassie kiss after Kon dies.

Me: Oh these little idiots don’t know how to process emotions in the least bit.

#young justice #y98 #Tim Drake #connor kent #bart allen #cissie king jones #cassie sandsmark #greta hayes #robin dc #superboy #impulse #arrowette #wondergirl #secret dc #I’m just picturing them whining about a splinter and then just making out with everyone #like it’s their go to when they have emotions because they’re dumb #except Bart #I might ship him with Jaime but he gives me major asexual vibes in the comics #at least at the moment so did Cass and then they started flinging her at every penis

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

Natural Satellite [ch 6]

An In Stars and Time AU. In chapter six, the gang faces the King. (Spoiler warning thru Act 4)

It’s been a while since you actually fought the King. Why bother? It’s not like there’s anything waiting on the other side. Just a soppy little coda that doesn’t even resolve anything. No closure. No catharsis. No point. But Isa insisted, about the dagger. He practically begged you. If you go back on your word now, he’ll probably get a lot less cooperative. Which would be inconvenient. And you can’t think of any other way to skip the fight without letting the King kill everyone. (You could bear it, when they wouldn’t remember. But you can’t do it anymore. Not to Isa.) (It hurts to die.) The King is moaning again, whining about his stupid embarrassing ambitions. Ooohh, maybe the real victim is me actually! Maybe you guys should just lay down and die! It might have a little more appeal as a musical number. Give the fight a little razzle-dazzle. But it isn’t. It’s just a huge loser, crying. You zone out.

Watching Siffrin sleep makes Isa’s chest clench. Sif was always a tiny little guy, but they look even smaller in sleep. Hat off, guard down. Hugging their knees to their chest like they’re trying to disappear completely. They might even look peaceful, if not for the dark circles hollowing their eyes. And for the way they keep twitching and flinching, like even their dreams aren’t safe.

Sif circled the tree six times before choosing their spot, fastidious as a housecat. If Isa wasn’t totally spineless, he might have asked if they wanted to rest their head in his lap. N-Not because he wanted them to!!! Or… well. Not exclusively. Mostly it was just because Sif looked so tired. Like it’d been a million years since they last got a sound night’s sleep. And also because it kinda made Isabeau want to cry, watching Sif look around warily before laying his head down on a tree root.

It probably wouldn’t offend them just to ask. Just a simple, Hey, Sif? You look pretty uncomfortable… and I’m just sitting here, so… it really wouldn’t get in my way if you—if you wanted—if you might be more comfortable resting your head on something a little less, um, made of wood? Like, I dunno… a chunk of moss, or a stack of leaves, or... or even j-just my…

But—nope! Haha! Nnnnope!! There’s no point, anyway. Sif would just say no, and then Isa would have to sit here, watching them, knowing that they’d rather stretch out on a bed of nails than entrust their sleep to him.

It’s probably for the best. Being Sif’s pillow would be distracting. (Like, really really really distracting.) And Isa’s got enough on his mind as it is.

If the time loops aren’t a divine blessing to help Mira beat the King, then what are they for? They must be related to Sif, or else he wouldn’t have been stuck here all alone for all this time. But then why would that change now? Why would it happen in the first place?

There’s a stifled squeak. Siffrin, whimpering in his sleep.

Isa’s palms itch. Of course he knows better than to wake Sif up. At this point, it seems pretty clear that restless sleep is still miles better than no sleep at all. Still, he can’t suppress the instinct to reach out, to pet and fuss and soothe. And… maybe Sif wouldn’t mind?

But he’s kidding himself. He already saw how Sif reacted when he tried. Siffrin is quicker and sharper than anyone, but when Isa reached out, they froze like a rabbit. Paralyzed. Afraid.

…Isa did that. He did that to them.

“Stop,” Isabeau whispers to himself, out loud. He needs to focus. Sif just gave him a lot to think about, and his notes won’t stick around for long. He has all these scattered shards, twisty little splinters of a larger picture that must exist. But it feels like all he’s got are edge pieces. Like he’s still missing something central, fundamental.

He just needs a little more data.

* * *

Sure enough, that article is right where Isabeau remembered: tacked to the wall on the first floor, surrounded by hand-drawn sketches and still-lifes.

None of the articles include anything particularly helpful (e.g., say, a list of weaknesses, or an explanation of how the King’s power actually works). Mostly it’s just about how he showed up out of nowhere, and how nobody really knows where he came from. But they do have plenty to say about his fashion sense.

Siffrin frowns at the photo. “Those patterns…”

"On his chest and gauntlets, you mean?" Isa asks, curious. They're not particularly eye-catching. Just a bunch of big diamonds.

"It's just a weird losange," Bonnie huffs. They’ve never had much interest in fashion. "What's so weird about that?

Siffrin just shakes their head. “Those are stars.”

* * *

Sif moves differently now. Isa couldn’t tell back in Dormont, but in the House, it’s unmistakable There’s a leonine grace; a predatory gleam. Sif weaves through the halls like a shark that’s scented blood. Cold, efficient. Utterly without fear. When they sense him, the Sadnesses scatter like minnows. They cower in corners and blunder into walls, blind in their terror.

He doesn’t slow down until they get to the library, where they hesitate in front of one of the shelves, running a finger down the sparkly, rhinestone-studded spine of a book. They don’t open it. But they don’t have to. Isa remembers this part. Mira read it to them just two loops ago. It was a diary, someone’s memory of the day that everyone forgot an entire country. Just thinking about trying to remember gives Isa the beginnings of a headache. And Sif—

Sif asked him to say it anyway.

They looked so serious. Desperate. Like they were hungry for something they couldn’t even name.

The picture tilts. A new variable, sliding into place.

…Oh, Isa thinks to himself. Okay. It’s starting to come together.

* * *

The King’s shadow darkens the entire House, but nowhere more than the third floor. His hair curls around every doorway like the twisting vines of some pallid, lightless plant that only grows deep underground. The air hums with Craft. It makes Isa’s skin prickle, makes the hair on his arms stand up straight. No matter where you go, you can always hear the clamor of the King’s sobs, a wrenching, discordant wail that sounds like it’s being wrung out of him with a wine key. It’s overpowering. Inescapable. Isa doesn’t scare easily—not in a fight, at least—and even he can feel the dread seeping into his blood. Some primal, animal corner of his brain is telling him to run. Run. Run. You’re in danger. You’re not a hunter here. You’re prey.

And just a few steps in front of him, Sif is leading the charge with an impatient little scowl. He looks distracted. Bored. Like they’re waiting in a too-long line at the market.

They know the way, too. Right turn, left turn, pick up the key and track back. A quick stop in Mira’s room, then north for another key. In the corner of his eye, Isa can see Madame Odile eyeing them suspiciously. Siffrin doesn’t seem to notice.

And then they’re at the King.

Isabeau promised not to get in the way this time, and he’s not about to break a promise. He keeps his mouth shut while Siffrin steps forward.

“Where are you from?”

The King looks straight at them. When he brushes his hair aside, Isa can see his eyes burn white. Silver-white, like Siffrin’s. “.....What about you, bright one..... Where are you from?”

Siffrin flinches.

The King laughs.

* * *

* * *

* * *

It’s been a while since you actually fought the King. Why bother? It’s not like there’s anything waiting on the other side. Just a soppy little coda that doesn’t resolve anything. No closure. No catharsis. No point. It doesn’t even tie up any loose ends. Isa’s stupid confession is foreshadowed for the whole script—now that you know what to look for, it’s honestly a little heavy-handed—and by the time the curtain falls, nothing has changed. Chekhov’s gun lies cold on the mantle. At a certain point, it’s just bad writing.

But Isa insisted, about the dagger. He practically begged you. If you go back on your word now, he’ll probably get a lot less cooperative. Which would be inconvenient. And you can’t think of any other way to skip the fight without letting the King kill everyone. (You could bear it, when they wouldn’t remember. But you can’t do it anymore. Not to Isa.)

(It hurts to die.)

The King is moaning again, whining about his stupid embarrassing ambitions. Ooohh, maybe the real victim is me actually! Maybe you guys should just lay down and die! It might have a little more appeal as a musical number. Give the fight a little razzle-dazzle. But it isn’t. It’s just a huge loser, crying.

You zone out.

* * *

You beat the King, obviously. It’s easy now. Buff. Attack. Block. Attack. Bomb. Attack. You’re never even in any real danger, so does it really have to take so long?

The others cheer, after you finish him off. You remember to cheer, too. In the corner of your eye, you can feel Isa’s gaze on you. You do not look back.

* * *

How many times have you been on this rooftop? Probably the number doesn’t matter. All that matters is that nothing ever worked, and nothing ever changed.

There’s too much in your head. You can feel thoughts ticking, tickling, prickling. Where the expanse of possibility should stretch endlessly into the horizon, there’s only history. Hindsight. Nowhere to go but back.

You look at Euphrasie.

Your whole nervous system clenches in on itself. Your blood cold and turgid; your windpipe crusted shut with blackened sugar. Your lips itch. Your throat burns. You Cannot Talk To Her Again.

Your hands twitch toward your dagger.

…But you promised.

“Isa,” you mumble, shuffling toward his corner of the rooftop. “Can I… talk to you?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course! Always!”

“No, I mean. Um. Alone?”

In the background, Odile whistles. You very graciously ignore her.

“Oh!” Isa squeaks. “Y-Yeah, I— Yeah, of course!”

You wonder idly whether he knows that you know what he wanted to tell you, back when that was still something he cared about. Probably he doesn’t. You have a history of obliviousness, apparently. But Isabeau does too.

It doesn’t matter. That’s not what you need to talk to him about.

* * *

You are keenly aware of your family’s eyes on you as Isabeau trails you down the steps and around the corner. You might feel embarrassed, if you didn’t know for a fact that this entire timeline was about to be wiped from existence.

“I can’t talk to her,” you announce, once you’ve decided that you’re out of range.

Isa blinks at you. “Um? To…”

“The Head Housemaiden.”

“...Huh?”

Oh. That’s right. You never explained this part. Probably because you didn’t want to be here. “You know how, even if we beat the King, I still loop back?”

Isa nods.

You nod at Euphrasie. “This is where it happens.”

“Wait, she—” Isabeau looks over his shoulder and then back, goggle-eyed. “Don’t tell me Mira’s mom kills us????”

You can’t suppress a snort. “Um. No. Not like that. I talk to her, and then it’s over.”

“Wa-a-ait,” Isa says slowly. “You mean… Do you mean without dying???”

You shrug.

“But… But wouldn’t that mean—”

“No.”

“But if we could loop back without—”

“No.” He doesn’t understand. Nothing hurts worse than talking to Euphrasie.

Isabeau hesitates. “But… But if she can—”

“I can’t talk to her again.” Just thinking about how hopeful you felt, the first few times—

But that was a long time ago.

Isabeau studies your face. You expect him to press you, but—he doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says instead. He exhales slowly, brushes off his hands. “Okay! Then, um, what would you normally do here?”

For just a second, your eye flicks toward your dagger.

“Ah,” Isa says. “Okay, well. Thanks for… not doing that.” He takes a breath, lets it out. “So… what do you wanna do instead?”

“…You could stab me?”

“Sif.”

Yeah, you didn’t really think he was going to go for it. “I could jump off?” You’ve never tried that before. It might be nice to feel something new!

“No???”

You scowl at him. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“...You really can’t talk to her?”

You nod. You really really can’t.

“Could I talk to her?” he asks hopefully.

You shake your head. You know you’re being difficult, but—no. He can’t! And it wouldn’t work, probably, anyway. That’s not how it’s ever worked.

Isabeau heaves a breath. “Okay. Then we just… find another way, right?”

You shrug.

“But we couldn’t figure that out last time,” his eyes flicking toward your shoulder. “We’d have to try something… else, I guess. Um. Do you… have any ideas? About why it didn’t work, or… what we could try instead?”

You think about it. You liked feeling his hand on your shoulder, you think. You think you liked it. But your cloak is thick and sturdy. You could barely even feel him. “Maybe because I couldn’t feel it on my skin?”

“Oh,” Isa whispers. “Um. D-Do you think so?”

Another shrug. What do you know? The only time touch made you loop was—

(—shut up shut up THAT NEVER HAPPENED.)

Isabeau swallows. He wraps one hand around his arm, clutching tight enough to bunch the fabric of his sleeve. “Um…”

You huff a breath. “Sorry. Never mind. It was stupid.”

“N-No!! It’s not that!! It’s just that you’re… kinda all covered up? Except your—um.” He looks away. “Your… f-face.”

…Oh.

You shouldn’t think about it and you are thinking about it, now, irrevocably. Isa’s hand on your cheek. His very warm, very large hand, cradling the side of your face. Fingers brushing your cheekbone, your temple. If you asked him, with your face burning under his touch, to tell you what he’d promised to confess, would he finally do it?

But you can’t risk it. Not here, not now. There are no more second chances. Isabeau’s already trapped here with you. Haven’t you hurt him enough?

“...Sif?”

Carefully, you peel off your gloves.

“Ohh,” Isa breathes. “Are you… D-Did you wanna…”

“I want to stab myself,” you snap, before reining yourself in. “Sorry. No. I just mean, I don’t mind stabbing myself.” It doesn’t take too long, and it always works. And it’s… yours. Not just something happening to you. “But if you wanted to try something else…”

Isa’s hand flits closer. But he doesn’t grab yours. He just—holds it out to you, palm-up. There’s an appealing flush darkening his ears, sweat beading on his brow. It’s silly, really. There’s no reason to be nervous about something like you; something that’s not even a person. But he is. It’s… interesting.

You know that you should feel sorry. You know it should embarrass you. But there’s something appealing about seeing him like this. Disarmed, unarmored. Over-exposed as a shucked oyster. It makes you feel sort of… powerful.

(Disgusting.)

You meet him in the middle. Reach out and trace a line from the tip of his longest finger to the soft skin of his wrist, where his pulse thrums through it. You pretend not to notice the way that he shudders.

“Soft,” you mumble. You’d expected his hands to be tougher, scarred and callused like yours. Especially since he fights with his fists. But you were right about one thing. He is very, very warm.

“I.” His voice comes out choked and strangled. “—have a good skincare routine?”

You snort. The pad of your thumb circles his palm, just to make his breath hitch. You can feel his pulse quicken and that’s interesting, too, so you do it again before uncurling your hand and laying your palm flat against his.

Isa pulls in a shuddering breath. You can see him steeling himself, gathering his courage before he slots his fingers into the spaces between yours and then you’re—holding hands. You’re holding hands. It feels almost familiar. Has someone held your hand before? When you try to remember, the thought twists away.

“Um,” Isa says hoarsely. “So. D-Do you feel—um—loop-y?”

You think about it. “I think you’re being too careful.”

His eyes widen.

“I think it won’t work if you don’t surprise me,” you explain. “Like. Catch me off guard.”

“O-Oh,” he whispers. “Really?”

You nod.

You’re aware that you’re pushing him. Pushing his boundaries; shoving through his comfort zone and out the other side. But that’s because you don’t want to be here.

There’s a reason you stopped coming here. Started asking your questions and ending the loop, instead of beating the King at all. You’re tired of this. Tired of hearing the same fumbling aborted confession. Tired of watching Isa decide that maybe he’d rather not know you, after all. That he’d rather be safe than be yours.

You want to push him. You want to scare him, a little. Make him suffer, make him squirm. It’s only fair, isn’t it? He’s been toying with you for a hundred loops.

(...You’re disgusting.)

Isa scuffs his feet, shifts his weight. “Um. Um… Do you… have any ideas?”

You raise an eyebrow. “If I tell you, it’s not really a surprise, Isa.”

“Haha, yeah!!!!!! I guess you’re right!!!” He looks down at your joined hands and swallows. “And. And you’re sure we can’t just—“

You glare at him and he actually squeaks. It’s cute. No it isn’t, it’s cruel. You’re playing with him, like a kid pulling the wings off a butterfly. Sadistic.

“Okay, okay, okay. No Housemaiden. S-So it just has to be… something you’d never expect…” He falters. “…Promise you won’t get mad?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. It probably depends on what he does.

“Y-Yeah, of course. Of course. And you really won’t—um—I mean—because I could do all the talking…“

“She does all the talking.”

“Okay!!” he squeaks. “S-Sorry!! Then I’ll just—um. L-Let me just try…”

Tentative, slow, he wraps his fingers around your wrist. You have maybe half a second to process what’s happening before he raises your hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to your palm, right where it meets your wrist. Sparks under your skin. Lightning on your tongue. You’ve never been more aware of your own nerve endings.

You blink up at him, heat-dazzled, only to find his face burning. Eyes glossy with shame, and—something else. His gaze is locked on the place where he ends and you start but when he senses you staring he catches your eye and it’s— Oh, Stars. Oh, Change or Expressions or Gems, it’s— He’s so desperate. He’s so ashamed. He wants you so much.

(—Not you. Not you. He doesn’t want you, he wants the role you were playing. But it’s hard to remember when he’s so beautiful, and so close. And so hungry. You can see it in the ember of his eyes, burning for you. But he can’t, he shouldn’t, it’s wrong; you’re disgusting and wrong and you know but he’s—he’s looking at you like he can actually see you. Like he could see you and still want you.)

There’s a shift in his stance. Isa, tilting closer, squeezing his eyes shut. He draws your wrist toward his mouth and you realize with terror that he’s going to do it again—except that he can’t, because if he does it again, you can’t be sure what kind of sound you’ll make and the pressure building in your throat feels dangerously like a whimper, and—and if you whimper, then he’ll know; he’ll know that you—he’ll know that you—

[ f e e l   a   t u g   a t   y o ur   s t o m a c h ]

And you wake up in a field.

If you wanna get updates as soon as I post em, feel free to follow the series on ao3!

#isat spoilers #act 4 spoilers #in stars and time #isat siffrin #isat isabeau #isafrin

[crazycookiecrumbles]

Pho (Epilogue)

Masterlist

A/N:  THE END, THE EPILOGUE, THE FINAL INSTALLMENT

Pairings/Characters:  Frank Castle x Reader

Warnings: fluff, cursing, Peter being easily embarrassed and nervous all the time this poor kid

Summary:  It’s been a couple of months since Frank’s issues with Ares. Now, you’re all just trying to live your lives the way they used to be, but things are about to change. (Epilogue)

Frank Castle was a broken man. He beat death so many times, a part of him wondered if he was death, because just about everyone in his life seemed to meet an untimely end. Death didn’t discriminate in Frank’s life; his wife, his children, friends, it didn’t matter who they were to him. Ultimately, everyone died.

Then there was you.

Wow, you were such a pain in his ass. The mouth on you really was jarring, sometimes. The things you said, the way you spoke, how you teased and taunted him relentlessly? You were an utter thorn in his side, a lego under his foot, a splinter in his thumb, and yet, he absolutely loved you for it. 

That fire was a breath of fresh air for Frank. Not putting up with his bullshit, calling him out on his ‘brooding’ days and rationalizing things with him, you were kicking Frank in the ass every step of the way, and it was the push that he needed in order to move on with his life.

It left him where he was today, leaning against the kitchen wall, watching you talk to May Parker with a grin on your face as the two of you waited excitedly to see Peter join you guys after getting dressed for his junior prom. The boy had finally gotten the courage to ask out MJ, and now the two were going as dates to the end-of-year event.

Although, Frank had a feeling that the two of you waiting so eagerly with your phones out for pictures was making the kid nervous. He was thinking that the kid was planning to make an Irish exit and go out without having to stop for an endless amount of pictures that the two of you would surely bestow upon him.

While Frank smirked to himself at the thought, he heard a single tap on the wall. It was so quiet, he’d have missed it if he wasn’t already leaning on the wall near the kitchen. Frank turned his head and saw Peter’s finger pointing to the bathroom from the tiniest crack of his bedroom door. Confused, Frank excused himself and walked to the bathroom wondering what the hell he was supposed to be looking for.

The bathroom window opened and Peter climbed in with a huff. He was already dressed and clearly ready to go, and seemed to be stalling for time.

Frank raised an eyebrow and decided to mess with him in that moment, “Kid, how the hell did you do that?”

Peter paled, “What?”

“How did you just climb in through this here window? Oh, shit. Are you, are you Spider-Man!?”

Peter thought he was going to vomit, “Oh, oh shoot. Oh, my god. You don’t remember, do you? Oh, my god, I thought you knew. Oh, oh shit! You can’t tell anyone, okay? You can’t — “

“Kid, I know. I’m just messing with you.”

Peter frowned after a moment, “Well, that is actually pretty shitty.”

Frank snorted, “What’s going on? They’re dying to take pictures of you.”

Peter whined and sat down on the toilet, “They’re making such a big deal out of it!”

“Yeah. It’s what the women in your life do when they care.”

“They’re going to embarrass me in front of MJ!” Peter whined. “She’s going to think I’m, like, such a dorky loser and —“

“Didn’t she already think that?”

“That’s besides the point!”

Frank chuckled and rested his hand on his shoulder, “Look, kid. You’re just nervous, all right? It’s easy. You run around shooting webs and fighting off criminals, but you don’t want to take pictures with your girl?”

Peter stared at Frank, “Yeah, duh.”

Frank snickered and shook his head, “Take the pictures. I’ll get them to ease off you a little bit. May driving you or you’re meeting up with them?”

“Ms. Stark rented a limo for all of us.”

Frank smiled, “Knowing her, it’s got the works in it, right?”

“Ned texted and said there’s so much soda in there that it puts supermarkets to shame.”

Frank laughed and gave his shoulder a squeeze before letting go, “All right. Go on. Take the pictures. They’ll go downstairs with you to take more when the limo comes, and I’ll keep them back.”

Peter exhaled slowly and nodded, “Okay. Thanks Mr. Castle —“

“Frank. We’ve been through this, it’s just Frank.”

“Right, Frank. Uh, one question.”

“Shoot.”

“So, like, May showed me how to dance and stuff, but, uh,” Peter scratched his neck and frowned. “Like, what do I say?”

“…You ask if she wants to dance, kid.”

“No, I mean, like, slow dances are quiet. Right? And I’m just staring at her face and what if my staring gets creepy and I need to look away but the awkward silence is just super loud and awkward and —“

“Kid,” Frank interrupted him and tried not to laugh at the pained look on his face. “When you two are dancing, you’re gonna lean in real close, right? You’re gonna whisper in her ear how beautiful she looks, and she’ll be putty in your hand. Got it?”

“Right, yeah, got it. I got it.”

“And don’t stare TOO hard either and freak her out.”

“Okay. Right. I got this!”

“Attaboy, you got this,” Frank opened the bathroom door and pointed for him to get out. “Go on, now. Take those pictures.”

With some newfound confidence, Peter stepped out of the bathroom to the shrieking and cooing of you and his Aunt May. The two of you took so many pictures of him, even catching glances of him looking to Frank for help, while the man just stood in the corner grinning at his pain.

This was one of those moments where Frank was smiling through his own pain. The things he’d do to get his family back, to be able to help his own son through these milestones in childhood. As Frank watched May fix Peter’s tie and give him more words of encouragement and wisdom, Frank pictured that it was he and his own son in that moment. He wished his son was running to him with girl problems or watching him run to his mother with those issues. He’d kill to be there for his daughter at her first prom, warning the boy that dared to take her out that he’d take him out if he got fresh with her.

In the middle of Frank’s daydreaming, you stepped in front of him and placed your hand on his shoulder. Frank smiled at you and shot you a wink. Sure, he didn’t have his family, per se, but he had a new one, one with you, and he was loving this quirky, eclectic found family just as much.

You clearly looked to Peter like a little sibling that you’d smother. Tony was your father, but, if anything, Steve was this brother figure in your life trying to tame the waters between the two of you. While he hadn’t caught a ton of it, Natasha seemed to be like a sister to you with how often he’d hear you say, ‘So last week, Natasha and I…’ The other Avengers were left to fill other quirky family member roles in your life, and slowly but surely, you were sucking Frank into it.

“Do I want to know why you were in the bathroom with a teenage boy?”

“Don’t make it weird, princess,” Frank cringed. “He’s just nervous about you ladies when his date gets here.”

“We are angels.”

“He’s a teenage boy and you take pictures like he’s being shipped off to war,” Frank pointed out. “Go a little easy when they get here, okay?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, “Fine. Only if…”

“If what?”

You stuck out your bottom lip and stared up at him, “We’re in Queens, so, you should take me to that really good pho spot you keep telling me about.”

He hummed and leaned over to kiss you gently on the lips before mumbling, “Yes, ma’am, whatever you want.”

The limo arrived with Peter’s friends inside. May made everyone get out of the limo so she could take pictures of everyone. You were taking a ton of pictures as well, even though Frank told you Peter was nervous and embarrassed, you got a little carried away with it. You eventually stopped, but May kept it going beyond the boy’s comfort. Peter looked to Frank for help when May climbed into the limo to take more pictures of everything as she told them to call if they needed anything that night.

Frank chewed on his bottom lip and looked to you. You stared for a moment before remembering what Frank had said, and then you were dashing over to coax May out of the car. You shut the door and bid them farewell, watching the limo take off with them to prom.

You and Frank invited May to join you both for dinner, but she declined, citing that she had a hot date herself that night, but didn’t disclose who it was. So, with grins on your faces, you left her to get ready while the two of you went to get soup.

~*~

During dinner, you were fixing your hot bowl of pho to your liking while Frank simply watched you. His own bowl was there sitting in front of him completely untouched while one hand was gripping his drink and the other rested on his thigh.

“Why aren’t you eating?” You asked him as you grabbed your chopsticks.

“Letting it cool a bit,” he lied as he watched you eat with a soft smile on his face. “Crazy, isn’t it?”

“What is?” You inquired before slurping up the noodles and, possibly, spraying a little broth on your own face.

Frank held back a laugh as he shrugged his shoulders and looked around, “All this, you know. Who knew me saving some damsel in distress and losing my bomb-ass slice of pizza was gonna leave me here having dinner with Princess Stark.”

“Ugh, you and that name,” you groaned while he smirked at you. “I know. To think you wanted to get rid of all of this because you’re so edgy and broody.”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes at your comments. Frank adjusted himself in his seat a little bit as he leaned forward on his elbow. “I’m just saying, you know, I never thought we’d make it this far. I mean, we’ve got two very, very different lives. I mean, who you are, your family —“

“Your inability to allow yourself to be happy or love again, your whole ‘possessed by a god’ thing, yeah,  I get it,” you trailed off as you set your utensils down and leaned on the table as well to smile at him. “But I’m glad we’re here. I couldn’t imagine anyone else sitting across from me right now.”

“I feel the same,” Frank muttered. “Even though you’re a big pain in my ass and clearly don’t know good pizza.”

“Wow, same to you, fucko,” you replied while he chuckled. “You okay? You’re acting a little differently. I’m a little suspicious right now.”

Frank nodded. He slowed his breathing and sat up tall. He steeled his nerves. He cleared his throat and removed his hand from his thigh, slapping his hand palm side down on the table. Your heart started to race as he removed his hand and showed one bronze key on the table.

“I think I’m ready to take the next step with you, Princess.”

Your eyes flew open as you stared at the new key, “Wait. Is that the key to your janky ass hideout that you keep saying I’m going to be kidnapped or murdered when I go see you?”

“No,” he scratched the back of his head. “Actually, it’s uh, it’s a new place, kind of between both our neighborhoods. The uh, the building’s owner owed me a favor, so, uh. Maybe with some security system of yours, some bulletproof windows —“

“Frank,” You reached over to cover his hand with yours and pull it closer to you. “Are you asking me to move in?”

Frank nodded hesitantly, “If, you know, that’s what you want.”

“Is that what you want?”

His throat was dry and his back was dripping with sweat. Frank could look at a bomb and try to disarm it with two seconds left. Frank could shoot a man point-blank in between his eyes. Frank could steer a truck into a river and escape in record time, but Frank could barely speak to you about something as life-changing as this.

“Yes,” Frank said quietly before clearing his throat, “Yes, yeah. Yeah, I want you to live with me.”

“I’ve invited you to move into the tower, you know, but you said no, and went ahead and got a place for the two of us,” you mumbled as you studied the key.

Frank wondered if he was in trouble, “I just — you know, I want something for us. I know you’ll still be there a lot, I know you’re basically running the show for their missions now, but I, I want us to have somewhere —“

“Yeah,” you nodded with a big grin on your face. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

His shoulders sunk in relief, “Shit. I mean, really?”

“Yes, really!”

Frank whooped, gathering the attention of the restaurant and disturbing many patrons, but he didn’t care. He got up out of his seat and dragged you out of yours. With both hands cupping your face, Frank pressed his lips against yours. You were out of breath by the time you pulled away while Frank was grinning from ear to ear.

“Here’s to us, princess,” Frank cooed as he hugged you tightly. 

Little did you know, behind your back, there was the slightest flash of red in Frank’s eyes as he smiled and held you closer. 

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x stark!reader #stark!reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fluff #frank castle fic #frank castle story #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x you #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal imagine #frank castle imagine #frank castle fanfiction #marvel #mcu #fic

[blinder-secrets]

In The Leaves

tommy x reader, 1,850 words

a bit nsfw, mostly power play and lusting

The house is quiet when you get home, shut off, and dark, and empty empty empty. You dawdle in the entry way. Drip your coat off, leave your bag by the hat stand. If Tommy’s in he’s sleeping, or hiding, or locked up in the office with his head in the whiskey. You unlace your boots and push them under the dresser, though he hates when you do that. There’s places for shoes, he says, put them away.

‘Tom?’

You call his name quietly, around the open door to his office. There’s no light, no man. He’s in bed, then. For once he’s beaten you to it.  

You go upstairs, zigzagging on the wide staircase because you can, because it’s late and your time is still your own to play with. It isn’t often that you take nights for yourself. No Tommy, no business. Free to do as you please. You’d gone to Vera’s first, then to the dancehall, then to Polly’s house in that little village, with the pretty parks and the bridges. You’d made your driver wait in the car until you were bored, and you’d paid him handsomely for it. That was part of the novelty too; money from your purse, orders in your voice, followed, not questioned. You see why Tommy craves it.

‘I should go home,’ you’d told Pol, ‘he hates when I’m away.’

‘No, love, he just hates not knowing where.’

‘Oh,’ you’d said. ‘Oh, no, I don’t think that’s it at all.’

When you reach the top, your stocking snags on a splintered floorboard. You pull it twice, and then it’s free again, but there’s a rip from your heel to your ankle. They were new; you’d put them on straight from the packet.

‘[Y/n]?’ His voice comes from the bedroom, low and curling around the hallway. ‘That you?’

‘Yes, Tom,’ you answer. ‘I’ve ripped my tights on the stairs.’

You follow your voice back to him, chase it through until you’re in the doorway, and he’s in the bed, ignoring you like you’d said nothing at all. You were right. Not sleeping, but hiding. He’s sitting against the headboard, chest bare, with the covers to his waist. He looks young, boyish. There’s note-paper in his hands and two more sheets of it on his lap.

‘Where’ve you been?’ he asks, without looking from his reading.

You slouch into the doorframe. ‘Am I in trouble?’

His eyes flick to you. It’s so quick, it may have just been the light on his glasses. ‘If you want to be,’ he says.

‘I was at Poll’s house.’

‘Drinking?’

‘Of sorts.’ The tear in your stocking is growing, you lift your foot to feel your heel through the hole. ‘She read my leaves,’ you say.

He sighs, sets the paper down, and picks up the next. ‘Did she?’

Your foot hits the floor with a thump. ‘Don’t you want to know what she saw?’

No, he thinks. No, I don’t care, he thinks. No, I’m sitting and reading and not looking at you, not even once, because I’m Tommy, and I’m bored of everything that isn’t myself.

You watch for a reaction. A clue that you’re right, that he is thinking all that, but he’s just still. His eyes follow the lines slowly. He clears his throat once, and then flips the page over to read the back.

‘It involved the two of us,’ you add, ‘the pictures in the leaves.’

‘Hm?’

Sighing, you cross the room and climb onto the bed on your knees.

‘You’re no fun, Tommy Shelby.’ Not when you want him to be. Not when it costs his time.

You crawl over to him, then turn onto your back and put your head on his thigh. You set your cheek against the covers so you can watch him, so he can find you at the bottom of the page, so he looks at you without meaning to. ‘What’re you reading that’s so important?’ you ask.

‘Letters,’ he answers, dropping the word into your gaze.

‘From who?’

‘Important people, love.’

‘Can’t I know?’ You touch his elbow, running your fingers in circles around the ridges of his skin. ‘I write your letters for you, sometimes.’

The paper lowers enough that your hand becomes trapped between his arm and the pillow behind him. ‘You asked for the night off, didn’t you?’

From work. Not from conversation, not from him. ‘I suppose,’ you grumble. Your bottom lip juts out and you let it sit there. Watch me pout, Tommy, watch me sulk like a child.

He sighs. Then he stacks the letter with the others and puts them all, abandoned, on the bedside table. ‘Alright,’ he says, once he’s looking down at you again. ‘What did Polly say,’ he groans, settling into the bed, ‘about your tea?’

You pull your hand free and turn your head to the ceiling. Your arms cross over your chest. It doesn’t matter now, it isn’t as interesting. ‘I’ve forgotten. Something about changing responsibility.’

‘Responsibilities?’ His hand goes to your face, his index finger trailing the line of your nose, across your lips and over your chin, down, down until it’s resting in the hollow of your throat. ‘Yours or mine?’ he asks.

‘Ours.’

He hums, the noise is deep in his chest, tumbling lower and under your skull. ‘What else?’

Suddenly, you’re shy. Nervous to tell him. What Polly had seen had excited you, filled you up with possibility and wonder, left you curious. Wanting. Tommy’s scrutiny would kill that, you’re sure. He’d flay the ideas and leave you to gather the scraps. ‘Nothing important,’ you tell him. ‘She thinks I should let go more. Let myself be.’

‘You should.’ His hand flattens over your collarbone. It’s either mercy, or his interest peaking and withering between you, because he changes subject like the conversation’s over. ‘You ripped your stockings?’ he asks, question already answered in his tone.

You look back to him, smiling. ‘So, you were listening.’

His eyebrows raise, head tilting as if to say, maybe. Maybe he was. Maybe he’s seen the ladder running up your calf.

‘Will you buy me a new pair?’ you ask.

‘If you want.’

‘Fancy ones? French?’

He nods.

‘You’ll give me anything, won’t you?’ Anything with a price tag, anything material. If it was within reason, he’d say yes, he’d have it on your dresser in a ribbon by the morning. You loop your fingers around his wrist. ‘Anything but attention,’ you muse. ‘That, I have to work for.’

You watch him blink, watch him incline his head and wet his lips. ‘Doesn’t everyone?’

No, not most.

‘You like working for it,’ he adds.

You snort. ‘Not always.’

Sometimes it’s nice to start things, sometimes you like to pull the want from behind his bored eyes. To make him need you, to make him melt beneath, and give way, craving, falling to the tide. Other times, it feels like a chore. Another responsibility you hadn’t asked for.

‘I shouldn’t have to do it all the time,’ you say, quieter than planned.

‘You have my attention now.’

‘Because I took it,’ you say.

‘No,’ he corrects. 'Because I gave it.’

He hold’s your gaze for a moment. Something slips between you, a new tension that twitches under your ribs, scattering your heartbeat. It bubbles and gathers in your chest, forces your breaths to become quick and short. You’re sure he notices it. Sure he’s planned for it. He looks down at you, lay against his lap, like he’s waiting for the nerves to form; for anticipation to fizz your senses.

His hand slides up until its curving around your neck, thumb and fingers bracketing your throat. It stills there, baited, cold against your skin. ‘Is it enough?’ he asks. ‘Have you had enough, hm?’

You swallow; it runs under his palm, sinking into your gut. ‘No, not yet.’  

He squeezes once, pulling lightly enough to get you to comply, and then you’re sitting up for him. Up and towards his chest, with his hand on your throat and your fingers scooped over his shoulders.

‘You don’t want to start things,’ he says, ‘not always?’

Your head shakes by itself.

‘Words, love.’

‘No,’ you answer.

‘Done making decisions, eh?’ His hand twists to hold the back of your neck, fingers splayed and straying into the base of your hair. ‘Tired of taking charge?’

‘Yes, Tom.’

He nods, the gesture is so slight it could have been nothing. ‘Take my glasses off,’ he says.

You do. You pull them from his face and set them on top of the papers, his gaze unmoving as you do so. The room’s quiet, but your head’s swelling with noise, your blood pumping loud enough to convince your eardrums that it’s in there. Filling your skull. Strong enough to dizzy you. When you straighten in front of him, his hands are on your waist, firmly, like he knows you need it.

Then he leans forward, pushing you backwards until you’re beneath him. Your arms are pulled upwards, flat on the bed, crossed at the wrists. He holds them there with one hand.

‘Have to let yourself be,’ he says by your ear. ‘You don’t want control, do you?’

You want to answer him. You want to tell him that this is what you’d meant, this is how it should be. Not always, but sometimes. A change of responsibility like the leaves said. When you open your mouth, all that pours out is a sweetened moan. It rides your breath over his shoulder and into the air.

‘No,’ you sigh. Not tonight. You don’t want control, you want this, you want this and him and attention until it’s flooding you. Until it’s too much.

Head lowered, he sinks kisses into your neck. Drags teeth and tongue down the line of your throat ’til you’re mewling. You lift up against him, back curved and eager, but he pushes back with his hips. Forces you down, subdued. Into the mattress and wanting.

‘Tommy,’ you whine.

He shushes you. ‘Leave them there,’ he says, as he pulls his hand from your wrists.

He goes upright, backwards and away from you, sitting on his heels like he’s praying. The sheet lies twisted around his knees. You wish he’d move it, you want bare skin against bare skin.

‘What shall I do with you?’ he asks himself. ‘Ay? How shall I have you?’

You’re putty waiting beneath his fingers. You’re honey, dripping, cloying, holding shape but slowly losing. His thumb finds the band of your stocking, pulls it taut against the clip that holds it there. Anything. Do anything. You’re his, you’re melting. You’re light pouring through the gaps and waiting, waiting to burst. Elastic snaps against your thigh. He smiles.

‘I like having you like this,’ he says.

Like you’re leaves, swirled and left in the cup. Wanting to be read, to be understood, to be laid out and fulfilled.

‘Like you’re mine,’ he finishes.

‘I am,’ you tell him. ‘I am, Tommy, I am.’

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy x reader #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #:) #enjoy please #i neraly tagged this as fem reader but hoenstly theres nothing that makes it such... its more like anyone who wears stockings reader #tommy x stockings!reader #lmao

[gamergirl929]

She Was A Skater Girl (Tobin Heath x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Heyy, just loved it your new imagine with tobin and i know your requests are closed, so maybe when you have time, could you write one with tobin and skater!reader?

The breeze was relatively nice considering it was so humid out, but you didn’t care, all that mattered was that your skateboard was beneath your feet.  

Portland streets were busy at this time, a number of people on their morning commutes, everyone rushing to get to work.  

All that rushing, luckily for you, hadn’t been a big deal for you, but sadly, it was ABOUT to be.

“HEY!” Someone shouts, your eyes widening when someone lays on their horn. 

You attempt to screech to a halt, but you quickly realize you can’t do so fast enough.

You instead fling yourself backwards off your board and land back first on the road with a violent thud, watching as the woman's car flies towards the intersection.

You watch sadly as your board rolls in front of the fast-moving car, being crushed by its tires as it flies by, the woman not even stopping to check on the person she'd just nearly ran over.  

You wince in pain, resting your head on the road beneath you.  

“Are you okay!?” A woman asks, dropping down on the ground beside you and you groan.  

“No...” You grimace as you sit up, yelling down the road where the woman had driven off.  

“YOU BITCH! THAT WAS MY ONLY BOARD!” You scream at the car as you rub the back of your head, your head that’s covered in a hot sticky fluid you realize is your own blood.  

You hadn’t even remembered hitting your head. 

“Ow. Shit.” You grimace, your eyes fluttering closed.  

“Keep your eyes open, an ambulance is on the way.”  

The woman’s soft voice makes your eyes flutter open, your brows furrowing as you look a the woman hovering above you, your eyes widening.  

“Holy shit, you’re Tobin Heath.”  

You, again, sit up, your vision dotted with black spots as your head starts to spin. 

“Here, lie back.” Tobin says again, this time your head meeting something soft instead of the hard concrete.  

You turn to her with a smile.  

“You’re really pretty.” You murmur, groaning at the pain in your head, missing the noticeable blush on Tobin’s cheeks.  

“Wait!” You yell, trying to sit up again. 

“Where’s my board?” You whine, your vision blurring as someone comes into view, carrying the two pieces of your board. 

“That was my only board.” You whine louder.  

“I think you need to worry more about your head right now.” Tobin guides you back down, the woman grimacing when she sees blood coming out of your ear.  

“Just, don’t move okay?” She places a hand on your chest and you hum.  

“I’ve had that board forever.” You pout, Tobin shaking her head.  

“A board can be replaced.”  

You shake your head.  

“Not that one, it was the only board I had when I started making vids.” You sigh, glancing at the woman. 

“You know some things can’t be replaced.”  

The sound of sirens makes your head ache and you grimace.  

“Why are they so loud?” You mumble and Tobin winces.  

“You took a pretty hard hit.”  

Tobin frowns when you start to mumble, words slurring into an incoherent mumble.

“Get my board, yeah?” You slur the forward nodding as EMTs rush your way, surrounding you.  

Tobin is able to get the two halves of your board before she’s back at your side, frowning as EMTs get you onto a backboard, incoherent mumbles leaving your open mouth.  

Though what Tobin CAN make out is her name, before you fall silent, losing consciousness.  

                                                          ***

The first thing you feel when you regain consciousness is pain, a throbbing pain in your head that makes you grimace, the insistent beeping of a machine nearby making you growl.  

“Damn.” You murmur as you shift, your back aching from the impact of slamming to the concrete.  

“Hey.” You hear a familiar voice, your brows furrowing as your eyes crack open.  

“Have you seen my board?” You ask, Tobin snorting as she nods to the corner of the room where your broken board is resting.  

“Did they find the driver?” You yawn, Tobin shaking her head as she moves to sit in the chair beside your bed.  

“No, but they’re looking.” She frowns and you growl.  

“She owes me some compensation for my board.”  

Tobin snorts.  

“You remember she almost killed you, right?” She asks and you shrug.  

“Yeah, maybe.”  

Tobin shakes her head, eyes widening when she hears a familiar voice.  

“Holy shit, you didn’t tell me the skateboarder was fucking Y/N Y/L/N.” The blonde squeals and you wince, your head throbbing.  

“THE Emily Sonnett knowns ME? Fucking sick.” You grin.  

“Wait... You know her?” Tobin points at you and smirk.  

“WELL YEAH. Emily snorts. “This is Y/N Y/L/N one of the best influencers on Insta.” Emily claps her hands giddily, frowning when she sees your board in the corner, completely snapped in half.  

“Aww, no...” She frowns, walking towards it, taking the two halves in her hands.  

“You’re an influencer?” Tobin asks, brown orbs wide and you nod.  

“So that’s what you meant by videos earlier.”  

You nod.  

“Tobin? Are you in here?”  

Your eyes widen when Christen Press rounds the corner, the forward’s green orbs widening when she sees you.  

“Y/N Y/L/N is the skater from this morning!?” She stares at you in awe and you snicker.  

“Seriously? You know me too?” You ask, the forward nodding in excitement.  

“Chrissyyyyyyy!” Emily whines holding the two halves of your board up with a pout.  

“Oh no...” She frowns, turning back towards you. “Sorry about your board, are you okay?”  

You shrug.  

“It’s okay, could be worse I guess... And I have no idea, no one’s told me.”  

Just as the words leave your mouth, a woman in a white lab coat walks in, smiling softly.  

“Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N, how are you feeling?” She asks as she checks the machines next to your bed and you grimace.  

“Not great doc, not great.”  

“I imagine so, you’ve got a skull fracture.” Your eyes widen, as do Tobin, Emily and Christen’s.  

“Does that mean I can’t skate?” You ask, Tobin turning to you with wide eyes.  

“No, you can’t.” She growls and you huff.  

“Why not?”  

You stiffen.  

“Wait, where’s my phone?” You ask, glancing around the room, frowning when you see it too by your board, shattered.  

“How will my followers know what happened?” You pout and Emily hums, looking at her own phone.  

“Apparently they already do.”  

Emily passes you her phone, your eyes narrowing as you read the screen.  

Influencer Y/N Y/L/N involved in an accident in Portland, Oregon

You scroll further down the page.  

Y/N, Instagram Influencer injured in a near hit and run collision in Portland, Oregon

You shake your head.  

“Well now I have to let my followers know I’m okay.” You shake your head. “Leaving them on a cliffhanger like this is some damn ABC TV show.”  

Tobin shakes her head, passing you her phone.  

“Here.”

You put your palms together, ducking down as you bow to her.  

“My hero.”  

Needless to say, the second you’re logged into Insta you go to post, taking a picture of yourself, noticeable scuff marks on your face.

You type a quick caption, your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth as you focus on posting, missing the small smile that stretches across Tobin’s face. 

“I’m sure you guys have seen the news about the accident, I’m okay, but they still haven’t caught the driver.”

You frown, glancing at your broken board.  

“Doc says I have a skull fracture and my back is pretty messed up... Unfortunately, she ran over my board, so I won’t be skating for a while, mostly because of the skull fracture, but whatever, I’ll keep you guys updated.”  

You glance around the room, smiling when you see Christen, Emily and Tobin sitting around, Emily still pouting over your broken board.  

“I’d like to thank, Tobin Heath, yes, USWNT forward Tobin Heath, for helping me after the accident as well as Christen Press and Emily Sonnett for coming in for a visit, mostly for Tobin, but still, FUCKIN’ SICKKKKKK.”  

You make the post and make your way to Twitter to make a similar post, quickly realizing you’re trending on Twitter.

“I’ve only ever trended twice on Twitter, once for skating in a mall down the escalator and running from security, and now.” You sigh.  

“Awesome.”  

You pass Tobin her phone back, smiling softly as the woman grins.  

“I really have to thank you for being there for me this morning. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would’ve chased after her.” You snort, Tobin throwing her head back with a laugh.  

“I don’t doubt that.”  

You smile your eyes searching Tobin’s face.  

“Still, I really appreciate it.”

Emily and Christen share a glance, the two smiling as you and Tobin simply stare at one another with lightly flushed cheeks.  

You lean back, rubbing the back of your head, groaning loudly.  

“You okay?” Christen asks and you whine.  

“My boarddddddddd...” You pout, Tobin shaking her head.  

Emily takes your board and brings it to the bed, handing you the two pieces.  

“Maybe, ummmm, tape?” She suggests, shrugging and you shake your head.  

“I don’t think it’ll work this time.”  You frown as you examine the splintered wood. “Well, it didn’t work LAST time to be honest, I ended up breaking my leg.”  

“You have a lot of accidents, don’t you?” Tobin teases and you roll your eyes.  

“Accidents are a huge part of skating.” You smirk.

“But when you finally hit the move it’s so fucking sick.” You nod with a grin, remembering how you’d landed the trick after your leg had healed, on a solid, break free board.  

“Wait, you didn’t trend when you skated off that condo’s roof?” Emily asks and you shake your head, the woman scoffing.  

“That’s dumb, and it wasn’t even your house!”  

Tobin watches you and Emily talk intently about your past tricks and run ins with the law, the woman smiling when you let out a belly shaking laugh, that laugh making you wince, your back and head throbbing.  

The more you talk, the more Tobin notes that your eyelids start to flutter as you visibly fight off sleep.  

Tobin shakes her head.  

“You should rest.” She whispers and you grunt.  

“I don’t want to...” You pout, earning an eye roll from the forward.  

“Well you need to.” She says, eyes narrowed and your eyes widen.  

“She’s right.” Christen says as she moves to her feet.  

You huff, sending Tobin a mock glare.  

“Fine. Fine.”  

Tobin is about to turn away when you catch her wrist, the woman turning to look at you thoughtfully.  

“I-I want to thank you, I really appreciate you helping me today, and uhhhh, coming here with me.” You shrug bashfully, cheeks dusted pink.  

“It meant a lot to me.”  

Tobin smiles, covering your hand with her own.  

“It was the right thing to do.” She says, her own cheeks flushing. “And I was worried.”  

Your tired eyes widen, your cheeks flushing darker at the thought of the woman worrying about you.  

Christen's green orbs dart between the two of you before she clears her throat, pulling the two of you out of your trance.  

“Uhhh....” Tobin starts, the woman clearing her own throat. “I’ll call to check on you later, okay?” She says and you nod, letting out a yawn.  

“S-Sounds good.” You say as you tiredly wave at Emily and Christen.  

“It was great meeting you all, still can’t believe I met you guys.” You yawn.  

Moments after the words leave your mouth you doze off, Emily, Christen and Tobin watching you with small smiles, Tobin’s cheeks still flushed.  

The forward turns around, eyes widening when she sees the looks on Emily and Christen’s faces.  

“What?” She gripes, glancing over her shoulder at you once more before she moves out of the room, her two teammates on her heels.  

“Why are your cheeks red Toby?” Emily teases, and Tobin growls.  

“They aren’t.” She dismisses her and Christen snorts.  

“Yes, they are.”

Tobin growls louder, practically sprinting away from the two of them, Christen and Emily giggling.  

“How much do you want to bet she’ll come back to visit her?” Emily smirks and Christen nods.  

“Oh, she will.”  

                                                          ***

Much as the two had anticipated, Tobin had come back to the hospital, though this time, she had a gift, something she knew you would love.  

Christen had agreed as well, of course, teasing Tobin about heading back to the hospital to see you.  

Tobin had of course brushed her off, but in all honesty, Tobin had felt something when she met you, that twisting in her gut, her heart lightening in her chest.  

She wanted to know more about you, and she’d been lying if she hadn’t spent most the night learning about you, as well as watching your videos and looking at all your posts.  

In fact, she’d lost sleep because of it.

That didn’t matter to her though, what mattered was learning more about you, and what she learned was that you were a shy, yet charismatic and bold person. 

A woman who’d taken up skating at a young age and had even caught the eye of famous skaters like Tony Hawk, among others.  

You were kind hearted, someone that anyone who looked at your images and videos with kids could see, as well as anyone who’d read or watched any of your interviews. 

You were humble about your fame, and the way you talked told Tobin you didn’t really care for the fame, you just wanted to do what you loved, and that was skate.  

The closer she gets to your hospital room, the more her nerves rile up, the woman nervous about seeing you again.  

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t notice the way your eyes shined when you talked about skating, the way your smile brightened when talking about it and the way you’d ramble shyly during interviews.  

Tobin comes to a stop in front of your hospital room,  the woman curtly nodding to herself, gathering her courage before she knocks on the door.  

Tobin frowns when she gets no response, the woman peeking through the gap in the door to see you’re fast asleep, mouth hanging open as you snore softly.  

She pushes into the room quietly, tip toeing to the bed, the woman grinning when you grumble in your sleep.  

“Maybe I should come back later...” She mumbles to herself, ready to turn around and leave, that is, until your eyes flutter open tiredly.  

“Toby?” You rasp, voice rough from sleep, as you stretch, not even realizing that you’d called Tobin, Toby.  

“Hey.” She moves towards the bed with a smile, smiling at the bleary look on your face.  

“Am I dreaming?” You ask, yawning.  

Tobin snorts.  

“No, you’re not.”  

You grin.  

“SO, that means you came back to see me?” You give her a charming smile and she rolls her eyes, sitting in the chair beside your bed.  

“I guess I did.” She grins and you smirk.

“Couldn’t get enough of me?” You ask cockily and she hums.  

“Oh I’m getting there.” She teases and you grin, brows furrowing when you see the box resting in Tobin’s lap.

“What you got there?” You ask curiously, the forward grinning.

“It’s for you.”

You blink rapidly, brows furrowing.

“Wait, for me?” You say, the woman nodding.  

You shake your head.  

“You didn’t have to buy me anything...” Your bottom lip trembles as Tobin slowly opens the box, your eyes wide when you see its contents.  

“I didn’t. I made it.”  

Your eyes go glassy, mouth agape as you stare at the board Tobin holds up, the skate board covered in a mosh of colors, the bottom colored in exactly the same way.  

“Wait... This is...” You brush your thumbs along the smooth board.  

“This is A Popsicle Skateboard...” You whisper, turning to her with a trembling bottom lip.  

Tobin smiles, reaching for and placing a hand on the board beside your own.  

“Actually, it’s not just a Popsicle Board...” She grins. “It’s the original.”  

Your eyes widen, a lump forming in your throat as you scan the board again, though, this time your hand slides down the board, your fingertips brushing Tobin’s.  

“A-Are you sure?” You whisper, the forward smiling softly, surprising you and herself when she pushes your fingers apart, her fingers intertwining with yours.  

Your cheeks flush, your eyes darting from your tangled finger to Tobin’s face, back and forth until your eyes again lock with Tobin’s brown orbs, her cheeks dusted pink.  

Her lips split into a grin.  

“I’m sure.”  

#uswnt x reader #tobin heath x reader #tobin heath imagine

[haziel-luz]

Own it..then Redeem it (2007!Leonardo x reader)

Chapter 3: Why me?

You get out of your shift for the evening and go straight to April’s place to visit the guys and Splinter. You really missed the lair, and the guys as well. Thing’s felt pretty distant but you try your best to visit them when you can. It’s not that you wanted to avoid them, you just couldn’t deal with all those painful memories between you and Leo. Every square inch of that place reminded you of him, it was his home. However, you also had to remind yourself that it became your home as well.

Walking up to the top floor of April and Casey’s new home, you smiled on how they finally decided to move in together. April talked about how their penthouse was beautiful and roomy for both of them, also in case the turtles decided to crash for the night.

You knock on the pristine door and April opens it with the third knock.

“(Y/n)! I’m so glad you came. Come on in.” April opened the door wide open with a happy smile.

You walked in their penthouse and started staring at everything.

“Things have been going well between you two huh.” You smile at April and hug her as a greeting.

“Thanks to me of course.” April looked smug and you chuckled.

We walked to the living room and you saw Casey on the couch with a newspaper. He looked up and grinned at you.

“Hey there, ready to face ‘fearless’?” Casey sits up and puts the newspaper down.

April pats his head with her wooden sword as a warning. “What? She can take him if she wants to.” Casey pouts and rubs his head. You chuckle and hug him as well.

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that.” You smile at them.

“So, I called Donnie and asked when they’ll be done with their patrol, he says at 11, so we can wait a little until then.”  April informs and turns on the music while the t.v is on.

“Wanna spar a little, it’s been a while. I mostly practice by myself tho.” You ask and put your backpack purse beside the couch.

“Sure, I’ve been wanting to ask you anyways.” April smiles and makes her stance.

“Just don’t whine when you tap out.” You make a stance and grin while she playfully rolls her eyes.

While you and April were sparing with each other, Casey entertained himself a bit by watching the ‘cat fight’. That's what he calls it everytime you and April spar together. He then just looked at the newspaper when he saw a picture of Raph in his Nightwatcher outfit and started reading the section.

During the spar, you and April heard a familiar news that came in this morning.

“Witnesses say there are holes in the floors, as if something or someone had just blasted straight down through them. Leaving authorities ‘scratching their heads’.” The anchor raises an eyebrow.

You and April immediately stop and turn to the t.v screen. You turn to each other and things somehow make it a little more clear.

“So this confirms that he’s back then.” April raises an eyebrow at the construction site.

“Looks like it, the four of them together are trouble but effective. So whatever happened that night gave them motive to strike into the scene. Something big.” You try to analyze the situation.

“We’ve got an image in from an amateur cameraman, and I do stress amateur.” The anchor says showing the image of what seems like a statue man.

“Whoa, April, wasn’t that the statue you delivered to Winters from Central America?” You asked and turned to her.

“I think so..Casey come look at this.” April called out to Casey. When you both turned around, and he was gone. You figured that he went out playing ‘trick or treat’ again. April went close to the window and sighed. “Be safe.”

“Don’t worry, he can take care of himself. That guy can give and take more hits than I give him credit for.” You state and she chuckles. You both sat back down at the couch and looked at the t.v. The news ended but we still had suspicions about it.

“There’s just no way that those statues can come to life just like that.” April frowned a bit, thinking.

“From everything that we all went through April, anything is possible. Maybe someone, somehow activated those statues. Actually, there were alot of statues that Winters had collected. Maybe he had them for a reason.” You leaned forward and put your palm under your chin.

“Why would Winters even want moving statues-? Wait, how do you know he had a collection of statues?” April turned to you confused.

“I may or may not have been to his place before…” You chuckle nervously.

“Did you-?” April eyes widen and you stop her immediately.

“No! Oh god no. When we first met, I was at his Gala, my boss only wanted me there to speak about his business since he trusts me more than his other employees. Winter and I talked about it and made some agreement. Later on, he wanted to show me something that he hasn’t shown anyone before. I saw a room that was filled with alot of ancient scrolls, weapons, and familiar statues. That's actually when he offered to get some coffee with me one day.” You explained to her and she nodded in understanding.

“Why did he show you that?” April asks.

“I’m not sure, he said that he saw something special in me. Maybe it’s his way of getting girls?” You were trying to be sure that’s what it was.

“I guess, but that doesn’t explain why he-” April was cut off by a grunt from outside the window.

You both got startled and quickly made a defensive stance, but then you guys relaxed when it was just Casey...and Raph. Seeing Raph limp made you both worried and panicked.

“What happened to Raph?!” You got closer and tried to help him by getting Raph’s other arm moving him inside the apartment.

“I don’t know! There was a monster he wanted to go after, then the foot showed up, and walking statues. They hit him with this.” Casey showed a syringe and gave it to April.

“I’ll call Donnie.” April went quick to the phone. You told Casey to get a bowl of water and a towel while you check for injuries. Your eyes widen when you see a weapon that resembles a ninja star. It was deep in his shell and it felt like stone. An ancient weapon.

“They’re coming on their way. How’s he doing?” April asked, gently touching his arm. Raph’s head was on your lap while you wiped away the sweat on his face and neck.

“He’s breathing more normally now, but still a little woozy. Whatever was in that syringe really knocked him out.” You responded, dipping the towel in water to dab. The three of you were worried about Raph.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your waiting was finally over once you heard a thud in front of the window. Mikey’s big smile showed and he opened the window to get inside, you smiled in relief. Two other thuds were joined which means that he’s back. Mickey stared at the whole apartment like you did before. Donnie came in after Mikey with an apologetic smile towards you. Leo then emerged into the window looking at all of us. You didn’t give a big smile like the rest of them.

“Leo! You came back.” April said happily.

“Leo!” Casey swings in his chair.

“Sorry the reunion isn’t under better circumstances.” Leo apologies and enters the apartment.

“Whoa-ho-ho! Nice pen kids.” Mikey smiles big at the apartment and then looks at Raph on my lap. “Oh, hey Raph.”

Donnie approached Raph and started checking on him.

“Well, his vital signs seem to be okay. Pupil dilation is normal.” He says.

“That’s not everything.” You say pointing to the back of Raph’s shell.

“Whoa!” Donnie turns Raph to see his shell.

“Whoa.” Mikey says in curiosity while Leo was concerned.

Donnie takes the weapon out and inspects it.

“Some sort of stone, probably obsidian I think.” Donnie analyzes and Leo walks up to Raph.

“Well is he gonna be alright?” Leo asks worriedly, he touches his brother's shoulder.

“Ugh, you're still here? Go back to the jungle.” Raph says with a little slur, shoves his hand away and lays back on your lap.

“Well, at least his personality is still intact.” Leo raises an eyebrow and shrugs.

“(Y/n)! I missed you.” Mikey hugged you tightly but made sure not to disturb Raph.

“I missed you too buddy.” You smiled and hugged him with one arm. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Leo or even make eye contact with him.

While April was explaining the story of ‘The Legend of Yaotl’, Raph sat up and you guided him to the kitchen to bandage his arm. He gave you a grumble ‘thanks’ and drank some water to freshen up. You smiled and you both walked back out to the living room.

“Well if you ask me guys, this has Winter's name written all over it.” Donnie told everyone and you were a little shocked about his answer.

“How did you figure that Donnie?” Leo asked, while Casey and Mikey agreed.

“Because, this has Winter’s name written all over it.” Donnie answers with a grin.

“Can I see that?” You asked and Donnie gave it to you, it really was true. What could Winters possibly gain from forming a relationship with me?

“Your rich boyfriend has goons now (Y/n)? Didn’t see that coming. Now I know who to thank for the shot in the arm. So where do we find this guy and his stone jokers?” Raph says sitting down while holding his arm. You glare a little at him for the information he gave out to everyone.

“Boyfriend?” Donnie,Mikey, and Casey turned to you with a shocked face.

“It’s not like that. I’ll explain later.” You rubbed your temple. Leo seemed a little hurt but crossed his arms and ignored the information for now.

“We’re not going anywhere until we get Splinter’s blessing.” Leo firmly says and frowns at Raph.

“Did you get his blessing for extra days on your ‘vacation’?” Raph glares at him.

“That’s different.” Leo glares back at his hot headed brother.

“Different how? Oh I get it! It was a perfect excuse to ghost (Y/n).” Raph snaps at the leader.

“Raph!” You exclaimed, surprised by his sudden choice of words.

“What? You think I’m gonna let him stand there and quote a rule book to me that he ain’t following for a year!” Raph stands up abruptly and points at Leo while glaring at him.

“Look Raph, if you got something you wanna get out of your shell. Now’s the time! What you're not gonna do is include (Y/n) into this. And I’m not gonna stand here and debate Splinter’s direct orders with you!” Leo pointed at Raph with a hard glare. Raph clenches his jaw.

“Fine then, I quit.” Raph gives up and exits out the window, but not without Casey’s words before he left. You wanted to talk to Raph, even though he threw you out there like that.

“If you don’t mind April, I’d like to take these to the lab for some tests. We should start figuring out these pieces.” Donnie stands and walks towards April.

“Sure Donnie, I’ll come by with Casey tomorrow evening.” April smiles and nods. You can’t focus on the situation when Raph stormed out.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later, I’ll come by tomorrow evening since it’s my day off. Don’t overwork yourself Donnie.” You waved at them and headed out of the window in search of Raph.

Leo wanted to stop you but he stopped himself. How can he even begin to start a conversation with you, you couldn’t even look at him in the eye. Maybe now isn’t the right time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You went on the search for Raph, only to find him in his Nightwatcher outfit. He took his anger out on some crooks and went back up to the roof. When he saw you, he groaned and took his helmet off.

“What is it now (Y/n), I don’t wanna get into an argument with you so do us both a favor and let me be.” Raph turned around and grabbed his duffle bag.

“Raph I didn’t want to argue with you at all. I just wanted to see how you were doing.” You approached him and sat on the ledge of the roof.

“Yea right, after what I said I wouldn’t be surprised if you're upset with me.” Raph scoffs and retouches his weapons.

“Honestly? A little, but I wouldn’t have said it any better if I were to tell him off.” You looked at him with a smile.

“Well at some point he’s gonna get the courage to talk to you, so you might want to figure things out soon.” Raph puts the helmet back on and looks over the city.

“Figure what out?” You asked, wondering what he’s referring to.

“I’m talking about things between you, Leo, and Winters. You're either team Winters or team Leo.” Raph points out as if it was obvious.

“You didn’t just say that.” You cringed at his reference.

“What? Not a fan of Twilight anymore?” Raph grins under his helmet while looking at you.

“That was a phase! I was 15!” You blushed and slapped his arm, making him laugh.

“That phase is worth it now. I’m gonna shove it in your nose whenever I get the chance. It’s your fault Mikey got into it.” Raph smirks and picks up his duffle bag.

“A-At least he was able to read actual novels for once instead of comic books!” You defended yourself the best you could. Raph stops for a moment and tries to say something but couldn’t.

“You're right, you turned our little brother into a zombie. He wouldn’t put down the book for video games until he finished it. It was the weirdest 2 months I’ve ever experienced, and he’s damn weird. Donnie was this close into analyzing his brain.” Raph looked at you and shivered at Mikey’s behavior.

“It wasn’t that bad...right?” You were unsure on how good or bad you affected Mikey.

“It was a horrible experience but at least his phase is over.” Raph shakes his head.

“Anyways, need a ride home? I’m pretty much done for tonight.” Raph takes off his gear and shoves it in the duffle bag.

“Sure, I wouldn’t want to wake up late.” You stood up and followed him.

“I thought you didn’t have work tomorrow.” Raph raises an eyebrow at you.

“Winters texted me again, he offered me a job, better than my recent one. If he’s actually the bad guy then this would be my chance in becoming an undercover spy, right?” You explained to Raph and he crossed his arms disapprovingly.

“What?..” Your frown, you thought it was a good idea.

“You shouldn't be too trusting with that guy. Have you even talked to the rest about it yet?” Raph asks and you scratch your neck.

“No, but I can tell them tomorrow.” You sighed a bit.

“Ya better, cause if anything happens to you, we won’t sit still.” Raph starts the motorcycle and sits on it, you sit behind him and securely wrap your arms around him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up and did your morning routine with some music. Today is when you investigate Winters. You just couldn’t wrap your head around Winters being the bad guy. He seemed too genuine with you and you felt it. Which was strange, because Karai was always bad news to you no matter how she has benefited us at times. There has to be something that Winters is doing.

You walk out of your apartment and keep thinking about Winter’s motives.

‘He brought the curse upon himself. Maybe he wanted to break the curse? Being immortal isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. Living more years than others could bring regret and sorrow. Not being able to have a normal life is something everyone wants. I feel bad for him. I mean, if he wanted to take over the world, he could’ve done it years ago.’

Your thoughts were interrupted when a limo came up and the driver opened the door for you. “Right this way ma’am.” The driver smiled at you and you got in.

“Thank you.” You smiled and looked inside the limo. ‘He’s too rich.’

Once you arrived at Winter’s Corp., you took a long look at the building and the tiny peach hairs at the back of your neck stood up. Something about this place is definitely weird. You quickly touched the back of your neck and rubbed the uneasiness away.

You walked inside the building and stared in awe at how huge it was inside. Everyone was just doing their business. Some looked dressed professionally, others were casual, and the rest seem to work here. There was a big symbol in the middle of the marble floor, one would assume it was a logo or decoration, but those are the same symbols on the ancient weapon that was embedded in Raph’s shell. ‘It can’t be a coincidence.’

Continuing the walk to Winter’s office, you saw a woman who you assumed to be his assistant. The woman was typing away on her computer, with a concentration expression. ‘She’s very gorgeous for an assistant.’

“Uh, excuse me? Do you happen to know if Winter’s is in his office? I need to talk to him about his offer.” You politely asked the woman. She looked up at you and pushed up her glasses.

“Do you have an appointment meeting with him?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. She inspected your appearance and tensed up a bit.

“Not really, but he said I can drop by when I have my answer.” You responded.

“I’m sorry, if you don’t have an appointment then I can’t help you. Mr.Winters isn’t in his office right now. He’s a busy man.” She frowned and gave you a scolding glare.

“Fine. Mind telling him that (Y/n) (L/n) came by?” You bit your tongue and tried not to start an argument.

“Only if he has the time.” The ‘lady’ turned to her computer and typed away as if she never noticed you. You were about to say something to her until the telephone audio turned on beside her.

“Ms. Lane, be a dear and show (Y/n) her way in.” Winter's voice suddenly came through the audio.

The woman, Ms. Lane was surprised at his sudden voice and jumped a bit from her seat. She pushed the button on the machine.

“But Mr. Winters, she doesn’t-” She was gonna oppose but he cut her off.

“Now Ms.Lane, do we need a discussion on how to treat our clients? I thought you were better than that.” Winters tsked and scolded her for her behavior.

She lowered her head a bit and nodded. “Yes Mr.Winters, she’s on her way.” She stood from her desk and picked up her journal.

“Follow me, Ms.(Y/n).” She clenched her jaw and led you the way to Winters. You couldn’t help but smirk the entire time.

“Gladly.” You responded and followed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s weird…” April said, watching her walk away with the assistant.

“Is that (Y/n)?” Casey asked, rubbing his head.

“Yea, but I wonder what she’s up to now.” April frowned a bit and tried to think.

“Whatever it is I think we should wait up and see if she’s okay. The last thing we need is another weapon on someone else's back.” Casey glared at the door to Winters office.

“You’re right..” April smiles to herself at how caring and protective Casey can be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Winters? Ms. (Y/n) is here.” Ms. Lane looks confused as to where her boss should be. She looks around and frowns.

“Mr. Winters?” She speaks up louder. You also look around the huge office.

“Over here. I’m sorry for the sudden disappearance, I was currently out of the shower.” Winters was on the second floor in his office. What surprised you and the assistant was that he was in his sweatpants and shirtless with a towel around his neck. You both blushed at his sudden appearance and you tried not to stare so much while the other one welcomed the sight completely.

‘Why the hell do these things happen to me…’

///////////////////////////////////////////

Hope you guys are loving it so far💖~ Please let me know how your feeling so far, satisfaction is key!🗝

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MASTERLIST

#leo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #leonardo hamato x reader #leonardo x reader #leonardo hamato #tmnt 2007 #2007tmnt #2007leo #2007 leo x reader

[yikesharringrove]

Hi!! I was just curious about Nancy and Jonathan’s relationship in your mango series! I was wondering if Nancy was an alpha? If she is, does that mean that Jonathan is a Beta or an Omega? Kids??? I have so many questions and am way too invested in this tiny part of this universe lol Please feel free to make this into a part with Steve and Billy talking to them about pups and bonding if you would like.

Masterlist

Part 29

-

I realized I literally haven’t mentioned the Wheelers this entire time rip to them I guess

Also I’m using this part as background to everything esp how Billy and Steve got together. Also no monster au I guess? tbh this part just made me realize NONE of this series is thought out

I literally never established a timeline, so I’ve decided it makes more sense for Billy to come to Hawkins earlier. You’ll see lmao. (this started as a little nonsense thing so the timeline of the whole Mango series is so whack pls no one try and do the math)

+I had traumatic emergency surgery on my uterus several years ago, so I’ve based all of Steve’s stuff on that

-

Steve dated Nancy Wheeler for about a month.

He was always drawn to fiery alphas, liked when they had sharp tongues, weren’t afraid to speak their mind. He liked ‘em smart.

Nancy seemed perfect to him, but Nancy didn’t like how much work omegas were. They needed constant reassurance of love, so much touching and cuddling, and that’s just not how she operates.

They had been casually dating for about a month early in her sophomore year when he asked her to spend his heat with him. She knew that meant he was serious about her, and let him down as gently as she could.

He didn’t take it too hard, and even invited her to a party he was throwing at his big empty house.

That was the first night she really talked to Jonathan Byers.

Their families had always been close, and they had been uncomfortable acquaintances for a long time, but she found him making a pip out of an apple, sat in the kitchen with him and got stoned for the very first time.

They were sitting close to one another, leaning closer, about to kiss when there was a splash outside, there was screaming.

They rushed out to see Steve Harrington, wet and shaking in the cold November night air, doing CPR on, on Barb.

He yelled at Tommy H., told him to call an ambulance.

Barb looked bad. Her lips were tinged blue, her skin pale.

She sank down next to her. Jonathan gently touching her back.

Most of the kids ran when they heard authorities were coming.

She held Barb’s freezing hand until the paramedics arrived.

Steve hadn’t stopped doing CPR the entire time had heard Barb’s ribs crack and splinter from the force.

The paramedics called it.

Steve was never really the same after that. He had become more withdrawn, had quit the swim team and stopped throwing big parties, he started babysitting Dustin Henderson, ended up babysitting most of the party soon enough.

He was still nice to Nancy, would ask her and Jonathan to hang out sometimes. She always thought he was sweet that he was a big heart. Hell, she sat there while he did CPR on her best friend for twenty minutes, but it was easier with Jon. As a beta, she didn’t have to be someone she wasn’t just to keep him from emotional breakdown.

But then Billy Hargrove rolled into town in the beginning of the summer, was all California golden, a big imposing alpha, and she began seeing less and less of Steve.

She thought it was just a summer fling, Billy didn’t seem like the type to stick around for very long, didn’t seem like the monogamous type.

Steve had a bad habit of trusting alphas too quickly, had been with alphas that just wanted to be able to say they’d fucked a male omega.

They were so uncommon, and usually these alphas were just curious, knew male omegas were the only presentation identifiable at birth due to their genitals, had wanted to see for themselves.

But Billy stuck around, starting hanging around Steve wherever he was, joining him when he spent time with the party, or with Jonathan and Nancy.

Billy was starting to grow on her more, as she watched and realized he loved Steve, that he wanted to be as clingy as Steve needed.

They would go on double dates sometimes, and Billy would pull Steve to sit on his lap just as often as Steve would plop himself on Billy’s lap. So she guesses they’re kind of a match made in heaven.

And then Steve got pregnant.

And she expected Billy to run for the hills, but he didn’t. Got kicked out of his house for Steve, changed his whole world for Steve and their pup, and at this point, they were four years in, had two happy pups and we in the process of moving into their first house.

She and Jon hadn’t even talked marriage yet, let alone bonding, were focusing on getting through school.

They had both gone to New York without even consulting one another, decided they didn’t want each other’s college choices to affect the other, that they should pick the best school for themselves.

When they revealed to one another, Jon showed her his acceptance to NYU, his dream school, while Nancy had handed him her Columbia letter.

She got regular updates from Steve, letters stuffed full with photographs and weekly reports. She contacted a bakery local to him to send him a cake when he called and excitedly told her that he had finally gotten his GED, had dropped out of high school in the February of his senior year when he got kicked out of his house, when he was the talk of the whole damn town.

“Letter from Steve.” Jonathan placed the rest of the mail on the counter, ripping open the envelope. “He put in updated pictures of the girls, look.” Nancy cooed over the photos. There was a gorgeous one of all four of them at the beach, Steve had infant Zara strapped to his chest, Billy was holding Mina. It was so cute. “He said they finished painting the house and should be moving in this week.”

“He mention how he was doing?”

“Of course not, have you met him? The only reason we actually knew he almost fucking died was because Billy called us.”

“I guess you’re right.” She was still flipping through photos. “Oh look at this one!” It was Steve caught mid laugh while Mina was doing him hair behind him. “We should go out to California soon to see them. Especially once they’re in their house.

“I’m gonna write Steve back, maybe we could go for New Year’s, or something.” She smiled up at him, stretching on her toes to kiss his jaw.

“I think that sounds nice.”

-

Mina was currently in the process of showing Jonathan every single toy she owned.

His lap was full of plastic food, blocks, dolls, stuffed animals, books, everything. She was talking excitedly about her little toy Camaro, the one that looked just like Daddy’s!

Nancy was just laughing as Jonathan nodded along patiently. He talked to her like she was an adult, asking her details about each toy in a very serious voice.

Steve slowly set himself on the couch. His abdomen still sore from surgery a few months ago. He was holding Zara, all dressed up in a little onesie that looked hand-knitted.

“How are you doing?” Steve rolled his eyes. Jon and Nancy kept asking.

“Nance, I’m fine. Just sore is all.” He kept dodging her real questions. She knew that the doctor had told Steve there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to be pregnant again, knew it was probably weighing on him. She just looked back and Jon.

“How is Mina doing with Zara? I remember when Mike was born I wanted nothing to do with him.” Steve laughed, bouncing Zara a little.

“She loves her. I swear if she could get me and Billy outta the picture, she would rather raise Zara on her own.” Zara gave a little choked off wail. “Sweet Pea, you are fine.” He put her on his chest, patting her back. “How’s school and everything?”

“It’s good! Jon’s going to end up graduating a semester early, so he’ll be finished by this time next year.”

“Oh, wow. Good for him!”

“I hear you left work, how’s that going?” Steve shrugged.

“They could only offer me one month of leave, and with the surgery and everything, I needed much longer. But you know I don’t mind staying home with these two. I mean, Mina’s in full day preschool now, just Monday to Thursday, but Zara is pretty fussy, so it’s okay. Once she’s not breastfeeding anymore, I’ll probably find a new job.”

“And Billy’s school is going okay?”

“Oh you know him, just overachieving at every stage. He had to cut back on his hours at the garage, he got a really nice internship at a law firm in town, and he’s actually getting paid for it.” Billy had been studying pre-law at UCSD, wanted to go into some kind of prosecution, possibly specialize in domestic cases. His internship was more personal assistant work to one of the partners of the firm, but it was better money than the garage, and something to beef up his resume a bit more.

Steve could hear the garage door beginning to rumble and whine as it slid up.

“Speak of the devil.” He smiled at Billy as he came in, kicking off his shoes. Mina sprinted up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, standing on his feet as he walked over to everyone.

“You talkin’ ‘bout me, Pretty Boy?” He picked up Mina so he could perch on the armrest next to Steve, giving him a kiss.

“All good things. Kind of.”  Nancy doesn’t think she’s ever seen Billy Hargrove in a suit. He loosened his tie, had take off his jacket to place into the coats closet, was currently rolling up his crisp sleeves. She could see edges of a few tattoos. She knew he and Steve had each gotten each others initials on their shoulder blades, adding the pups initials underneath them both. Apparently Billy was beginning to work on sleeves. “How was work?”

“Eh. Same old.” He shrugged, putting Mina down to go back to “playing” with Jonathan. He lifted Zara from Steve. “How are you doin’, Nancy? How’s the Big Apple?”

She waved a hand non-noncommittally. “Oh, it’s good. Jon’s working for some underground paper, shooting for punk shows.” Billy grinned.

“Well done, Byers. I’m sure your kid brother’s plenty jealous.” Jonathan laughed.

“He’s come up for a few of the shows he’s really wanted to see. Which is to say most of them.” The timer went off from the kitchen. Steve went to stand, only to have Billy push him back down, handing Zara back to him.

“Sit tight, Pretty Boy. I got it.” Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled softly at Billy all the same.

“He was a nightmare when we were moving in, wouldn’t let me lift anything over ten pounds.”

-

After dinner, Steve and Billy tag teamed putting the girls to bed.

It was kind of amazing to watch. Billy got Mina dressed for bed as Steve fed Zara, then they swapped, Steve made sure Mina brushed her teeth while Billy changed Zara, swapping again so that Billy could read a book to Mina and Steve rocked Zara to sleep.

They were so practiced and efficient, both girls were asleep with half an hour.

“You get a lot of practice with the bedtime thing. I mean, it’s every night.” They were sitting on the back porch, on patio furniture that had apparently been a gift from Claudia Henderson.

It was a perfect night, the Southern California air was just chilly enough to warrant a sweater, but perfect for just being in.

“There’s a park a few blocks that way that’s doing fireworks, we should be able to see them from here.” Steve had poured them each some champagne. Steve and Billy were sitting one the chairs across the little coffee table between them.

They chattered through as the clock ticked down, getting closer and closer to 1989.

Ten seconds to midnight, Billy helped Steve stand up. Five seconds to midnight, Jonathan was digging in his pocket.

The fireworks began as Steve pressed his lips to Billy’s. Nancy turned to do the same, choking on a gasp as she saw Jon down on one knee. Steve shrieked, scrambling for a camera.

“I wanted this to be the first thing I did this year.” Billy was grinning like an idiot, Steve was taking picture after picture, his big eyes full of tears. “I know you want to establish our lives before bonding or having pups, and that’s okay, we can just be engaged for a couple years, whatever you want.” Nancy had one hand in front of her mouth, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Whatdya say?”

“Oh my god, absolutely yes!” Billy and Steve cheered as Jon stood up, kissing Nancy before sliding the ring on her finger.

#yikes writes #mango #me before this part: I have never heard of the Wheeler family ever in my life #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove abo #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #omega steve harrington #alpha billy hargrove #mpreg

[malkumtend]

I Like Your Laugh. (A CrowSquirrel AU) - Chapter 12

Squirrelpaw hadn’t noticed anything off-putting when she woke up.

It had been the gentle steps of paws that had caused her ears to twitch originally. Groggily dragging her eyes from her paws, she noticed a large, grey shape slowly padding out of the mouth of the cave. A pale light filtered around the entrance, casting a splintered glow across the cave. Through her half-awake squint, Squirrelpaw could just about identify the shape as Stormfur.

He’s probably going to go hunting. Squirrelpaw thought, uncurling from her comfy position, or as comfortable a stone floor could be anyway. Better get up, it wouldn’t be fair to let him do it himself. No matter how early it is.

In fact, it would probably be better to get up soon. They’d need their energy if they wanted to get back to the forest to warn their clans. The looming threat of the prophecy Midnight had told the cats still lurked in Squirrelpaw’s mind. Every clan was in danger, it seemed, and Squirrelpaw knew she had to do everything she could to make sure the group got back before any damage could befall the ones they loved.

She couldn’t smell Midnight close by, so the badger must have already headed out as well. Just by the entrance she could see the hulking figures of Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt still fast asleep. Squirrelpaw smiled a little. The siblings had said some cutting things to the other yesterday, so it was nice to see a sign that they had patched things up. It was also nice to think that Brambleclaw had realised how he had been acting towards the others. Squirrelpaw still didn’t trust him completely but the fact that he had apologised to her was a good start.

She just hoped he stuck to his promise to be better. She really did want them to get along, but if Brambleclaw was going to go back to snarling and insulting her, she wasn’t going to just accept it. She could understand if he was stressed, they all were, especially now, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him treat her like that without a taste of his own medicine.

She stretched her paws out. If Stormfur was up, soon all the others would be too. Then they’d all be able to begin their journey back. She turned her neck around to smooth her ruffled pelt, and found herself freezing when she saw the sleeping face of Crowpaw right next to her.

Squirrelpaw felt a sudden joy when she saw him.

Then that joy transformed into a cresting horror.

Oh no. The Thunderclan apprentice’s pupils shrank as she realised that something else had drastically changed. She didn’t know whether to race away from the sleeping tom or to just watch him breathe gently until he woke up. Her heart began to thunder so hard that she felt her head ache.

The previous night whirled in her mind.

She’d been so tired that she couldn’t even remember coming back into the cave. The last thing she could even picture was her head against Crowpaw’s side as they’d looked out into the night. He must have helped me back inside. Squirrelpaw mused, feeling the trace of a smile cross onto her muzzle.

Her heart fluttered.

Her mind pricked her like a thorn to come back to her senses.

Oh… sweet… Starclan, it was true! Squirrelpaw’s head dipped down in defeat, her eyes wide as realisation gleamed like the burning sun.

I really do… ‘like’ him like that, don’t I?

That very thought meant that Squirrelpaw was going against something sacred.

But she was smart enough to admit it was true.

Squirrelpaw didn’t claim to be experienced when it came to feelings like love. Her only priorities had been on advancing as a warrior, she’d never had the time in Thunderclan to think about those kind of things. The only love she was well known to was the one shared between her mother and father. She’d heard all the stories about how Sandstorm had scoffed at the very thought of becoming friends with a kittypet; seeing her parents now, Squirrelpaw still had a hard time believing those stories.

Well, she’d probably be able to believe them a little easier now.

Not that her parents would be any happier.

Squirrelpaw felt an uneasy quiver travel down to her tail. Could she actually admit this so easily? This was against the Warrior code! She just had to look at what happened to Greystripe and his kits to see what a half-clan relationship could do. Not only did it dishonour your clan, it just brought heartache to everyone involved. It was only one clan or nothing. That much was simple.

But even as those thoughts went through her mind, the stuttering of her heart never sated as long as she was looking at the grey apprentice beside her.

Throughout the journey, it had been Crowpaw that had made Squirrelpaw believe in herself so much more. Her actions weren’t foolish to him, they were brave, and he made certain to let her know that. And when he did think she’d gone too far…

She could still feel herself in his paws, the touch of his fur against hers.

The admittance that she wanted more moments like that were proof enough.

Squirrelpaw let out a groan that sounded more like a squeak, hiding her eyes behind her fluffy tail. What do I do now? She had to try and move past it, surely. Her feelings for him weren’t the thing she needed to keep on her mind. Here she was, whining like a mouse-heart, when her home could be have been reduced to rubble just days ago!

What was the point of wallowing about something pointless like this? It wasn’t like Crowpaw felt the same way. Sure, they were friends but Crowpaw had never given any indication that he liked her beyond that.

He cried over you, didn’t he?

Her tail limply hung over her nose as her eyes stared ahead. That was true. Crowpaw was the most stoic, stone cold apprentice she had ever met, and he had actually spilled tears all because he was scared about her safety.

She felt awful for making him do that, yet she also felt a spark of hope.

He had been cold to everyone from the beginning. Yet he had defended her again and again, stuck by her for most days, and didn’t feel uncomfortable to share tongues and, in some cases, comfort with her.

Last night, he’d said he wanted to continue meeting with her.

Squirrelpaw ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. What if… he does feel like that? She couldn’t believe she was even considering this, but she was. If Crowpaw liked her too… did that mean he would still stand by her, even when they returned to the clans,

They were both stubborn enough to try, she thought.

Squirrelpaw knew she needed to strike herself to shut these incredibly dangerous thoughts up, but it didn’t stop a small grin from coming to her lips at the ideas.

Maybe it would be better if she told him straight away. At least then she’d get a clear answer before they returned to the clans, that would be safer for her at least. Then the worst thing that could happen was him rejecting her. And while… that thought didn’t make her too happy, at least she could focus back on the journey.

And if he did like her that way…

Regrettably, Squirrelpaw felt every strand of her fur tingle with glee.

As if struck by lightning, Squirrelpaw felt an energy pulse through her again, snatching away any tiredness she had felt. Yes, she would get it over with as soon as she could! She was going to be a Warrior after all, and Warrior’s didn’t run away from any battle. Not even themselves. As soon as Crowpaw was awake, she was going to get him away from the group, and just face him head on, whether he liked it or not!

Squirrelpaw smirked, that was definitely the best way to tackle this! Just get one problem out of the way so she could focus on the grander one! Of course it was the best of her, not many, options!

Outside of her vision, a yawn made her flinch. “Oh, morning Squirrelbrain.”

Squirrelpaw’s resolve scurried away like a mouse into a dark hole.

The Thunderclan apprentice twitched like she’d been caught in a bush of twisted thorns. Keep calm. She ushered herself through grit teeth.

“Why are you shaking? Is your fur still soaked?” Crowpaw joked, chuckling in a way that made Squirrelpaw tremble a little.

“N-No!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed, turning to face the cat with as straight a face as she could manage. All the Windclan cat had to do was blink sleepily at her, before she could feel her teeth chatter again, though thankfully not audibly. She hid away her jittering with a furrowed brow. “I’m just getting sick of waiting for you lazy lumps to wake up, that’s all!”

Crowpaw rolled his eyes, standing up to stretch his long limbs with a stifled grunt. “From what I saw, you’re the one who looked like she needed the most sleep.” He jibed, a blue pupil glinting at her through a playful slit.

It turned out Squirrelpaw was able to realise with amazing clarity how hard she was blushing, when she actually liked someone.

“Well, I got it!” Squirrelpaw meowed. She shook herself off quickly. She needed to act natural and fast! “How about you? Think you won’t fall asleep in the mud again?” She said, puffing her tail out in faux confidence.

“Too funny.” Crowpaw mewed coolly, sticking himself out straight. Squirrelpaw’s neck shrank a little into her shoulders as she looked up at him. Had he always been this much taller than her? Had he gone through a weird growth spurt overnight? “But yeah, I slept fine thanks.”

“Oh, good.” Squirrelpaw said, meaning her words a little too much.

“It is.” A gentle voice cut in. Both apprentice’s turned, smiling as Feathertail strode up to them with a glistening mood.

To Squirrelpaw’s credit, the only thing that gave her away was the slight widening of her eyes.

Feathertail.

She was the one of the major things Squirrelpaw hadn’t considered. The apprentice was certain that the Warrior held Crowpaw in high regard, and was almost certain she shared the same feelings for the apprentice that Squirrelpaw did. And why wouldn’t she; the two had become friends with each other before Squirrelpaw had found her way into their small group. In fact, the only reason she had even given Crowpaw the time of day at all was because Feathertail had encouraged her to give him a chance.

Oh, how right the Warrior had been.

“Have you two seen Stormfur?” The Riverclan cat asked.

“I think I heard him outside.” Crowpaw responded, grooming his short fur. “I think he’s talking to Midnight.”

Feathertail gave the apprentice a small smile, Squirrelpaw wondered if she’d seen something else inside of it. An uncomfortable irritation made her ears twitch. Silently she gnashed her jaws together.

“Well then,” Squirrelpaw cried, bursting up to her paws. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get going!” From the way her friends looked to each other, brows raised, she wasn’t acting as normal as she wanted to be.

She didn’t realise how loud she’d been until she heard the tired grumbling of her clanmate. “You know, there’s an easier way to wake cats up.” Brambleclaw drawled, uncurling his body to stretch.

Next to him, Tawnypelt rose, giving her brother a light swat with her tail. “Well, at least we’re awake.” Brambleclaw sniffed with a small laugh, groaning as he unfolded his tense limbs.

“Ugh, how does Midnight manage to sleep on that every night?”

Tawnypelt let out a mrrow of laughter. “What? Is it too tough for you?”

Brambleclaw scoffed. “Could be.” The two siblings shared a smirk, with Brambleclaw letting his sister give him a friendly lick on his cheek.

A gentle purr of delight hummed from Feathertail. “Thank Starclan those two are alright?” She mewed, “I was so worried about them after yesterday.”

Crowpaw nodded gently, his blue eyes misty with thought. Squirrelpaw craned her head, what had him and Brambleclaw actually talked about last night? Did the apprentice have more to do with Brambleclaw’s sudden apology than he’d let on? That would make more sense considering how insufferable Brambleclaw had been until then.

“I know that Brambleclaw’s been… difficult recently,” Feathertail continued, holding onto her politeness. “But you could see how hurt he was by what Tawnypelt had said.”

Squirrelpaw scoffed, “It’d be better if he’d seen how he made the rest of us feel before. Maybe then, Tawnypelt wouldn’t have had to tell him like that.” Just because Squirrelpaw was going to give him a chance, it didn’t mean she was going to be easy on him.

“I know,” Feathertail said slowly, “But they’re still siblings, even if they’re from different clans, they shouldn’t be like that.”

Crowpaw shrugged, “I wouldn’t lose sleep over it.” He said, with unnatural confidence. “I think they’ll be fine.”

Both mollie’s turned to him confused. Of all things, they hadn’t expected Crowpaw to sound so calm about the tom who beaten him just a day ago. “You think so?” Feathertail asked, her tail swaying thoughtfully. Squirrelpaw was just as surprised.

Crowpaw’s whiskers twitched up, “Yes. After that, I think he’s got in in his head how much of a mouse-brain he was.”

“Doesn’t mean he’ll stop.” Squirrelpaw muttered.

Crowpaw laughed out loud. Squirrelpaw felt her cheeks burn.  “I can agree with you there. If he starts again, that’ll just mean he’s more flea-brained than I thought.”

Feathertail sighed, “I guess we’ll see for ourselves. I don’t want to be unfair to him though.” She said mildly. She really was the most gentle hearted cats Squirrelpaw had ever met. Any cat who didn’t like her had to have rabbit dung instead of a heart.

The apprentice stopped short though when Crowpaw graciously pressed his nose against her pelt. “You, unfair? It’s more likely that my fur will turn white!.” His tone held the same genial tone that Crowpaw had always used with the Warrior. But it was Feathertail’s reaction that caught Squirrelpaw off guard.

The Riverclan molly’s fur flared around in flattered astonishment, before a warmth glowed across her face. She pressed her tail against his fur in thanks. Squirrelpaw recognised the glow in her eyes. It had first appeared when Crowpaw had saved Feathertail from the dog.

Squirrelpaw felt her throat tighten and her stomach quiver.

She sprang up to her paws, clawing away at her stupid thoughts and tightening her muzzle with a grin. “Okay okay! Enough chattering! Let’s get hunting!” She shouted. She seemed to be acting more naturally as Feathertail giggled while Crowpaw’s tail curled in amusement.

“There’s her focus, right there.”

Squirrelpaw stuck her tongue out at him, her bushy tail flaring as she pranced over to the cave entrance. She inwardly sighed in relief that they hadn’t noticed anything off about her, but there was still that stupid coil in her stomach, that mixture of frustration, regret and pathetic jealousy.

Fox-dung! I need to find a way to get over this!

Neither of her friends were idiots, if she kept on acting like that over every little thing, they would catch her out sooner or later. But wasn’t that what she wanted? To get it out as soon as possible. Eventually, she would need to.

Eventually.

But if Feathertail liked him as well? Squirrelpaw grimaced. Would Feathertail be hurt by her confession? She could just hope that Crowpaw would keep it a secret. But even then, Squirrelpaw would feel like she was betraying the cat she had grown to respect so much. Feathertail didn’t deserve to be hurt. She deserved to be happy. And if that happiness came from Crowpaw then…

Squirrelpaw clenched her teeth. She was overthinking this. So what if Feathertail had looked respectfully towards Crowpaw? Any cat would appreciate him if he was as kind to them as he was to her. Squirrelpaw was probably mistaken. There was no clarity that Feathertail held anything for the apprentice, she might even have someone at Riverclan that her heart belonged to.

Squirrelpaw had to keep her hopes up. If she lost sleep over this it could affect her during the journey.

Her clan was her duty, that was what she needed to lead her.

Despite her attraction to another clan cat.

Squirrelpaw groaned. The sooner they got on their way the better! Her stomach suddenly growled and her face heated up. Though she had been right before, they did need to get hunting.

She blinked away the glowing face of the sun as she found the entrance. “All right, where’s the prey around here? I’m starving!”

“Budge up and let the rest of us out.” Crowpaw said snidely from behind her. “Then we might be able to tell you!” He gave her rump a friendly nudge and she sprang forward, failing at ignoring the tingling where his head had touched her. Crowpaw pounced ahead of her, smirking playfully at her and Feathertail, as the Warrior bounced beside the two then up to her brother who sat by the pebbles talking to Midnight.

In the brightness of the sun, it was hard to tell if the gleaming in Feathertail’s eyes was down to the strong light, or something else entirely.

Squirrelpaw felt her appetite diminish a little. This was going to be harder than she thought.

…

The sun had risen higher into the sky, painting the horizon with a glittering blue. The travelling cats followed Midnight as they began their way back to the forest, all prepared to spring the moment they saw prey.

Squirrelpaw’s stomach continued to growl like a kittypet as she walked beside Stormfur albeit a little sulkily. She had suggested that the group hunt first before they made their journey back, but Brambleclaw had recommended that they hunt along the way. Annoyingly the rest of the group had agreed with the tom, even Crowpaw of all cats. That had stung more than it should have.

It was even more annoying that Squirrelpaw had to admit to herself that her clanmate was right. They didn’t have time to waste, even if they were hungry. Squirrelpaw didn’t have a problem with the fact that she was wrong, but it still seemed to her that Brambleclaw was trying to keep some kind of leadership over the rest of them. Even now, he kept at the head of the group, occasionally looking back at them like they were his responsibility.

However, the urgency in his eyes did look more like concern now, rather than control.

Squirrelpaw sighed. At least he was being helpful if he was going to be bossy.

It was slightly easier moving, now that they knew where they were going. The Prophecy had been told, and Squirrelpaw was part of it now. But the danger that awaited them was impossible to ignore and would remain with them every step of the way.

It would do no good to panic. It wouldn’t help any of them and wouldn’t stop what was coming. They just needed to carry on and pray to Starclan it wasn’t too late.

Like her companions, Squirrelpaw kept her focus on finding prey. They’d need to keep their strength for as long as they could, after all. The air was warm, but a gentle breeze still wavered the long moor grass. Hopefully, it would lead something towards them after a while.

Squirrelpaw’s tail curled as she remembered Crowpaw’s advice from yesterday. She pressed her nose to the swaying grass, trying to catch a scent in the air. She heard a confused mrrow come from Stormfur.

“What are you doing?” He asked softly.

She didn’t answer as she tried to find a smell. Nothing came. Sighing, she rose up again and gave Stormfur a shrug. “It’s a Windclan technique Crowpaw taught me. Looks like it didn’t work this time.” Maybe the wind wasn’t strong enough.

Stormfur’s eyes shifted away, his tail lashing in small irritation. “I see.” Squirrelpaw rose a brow at the annoyance in his eyes. What was his problem?

She was about to speak when she felt her whiskers sway a different way. Along came a mouth-watering scent. Before she could even react, Crowpaw had sprinted off into the direction of a nearby hill. Squirrelpaw could just about see the white tail of the rabbit.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Brambleclaw yelled. Whether Crowpaw heard him or not didn’t matter as his long grey tail disappeared under the green slope of the hill. The Thunderclan Warrior growled in exasperation. “Does he ever listen?”

Squirrelpaw frowned. He’s just trying to catch us some food.

“He won’t be long.” Feathertail mewed with a soothing chuckle. “You could hardly expect him to ignore a rabbit when it pops right under our noses.” Squirrelpaw may have smiled at the Warrior’s defence, but a jealous heat still rushed to her cheeks.

Brambleclaw didn’t snap, but his tail still whipped hotly around.

Squirrelpaw bit her lip, holding back an urge to hiss at her clanmate. He had promised he was going to try harder!

Maybe sensing the growing tension, Stormfur readied himself to follow Crowpaw. “I’ll fetch him back!” The light in the tom’s amber eyes faded as the group saw Crowpaw reappear over the hill. A rabbit almost as big as the apprentice hung from his mouth. Squirrelpaw wasn’t surprised that her friends were even more shocked than her.

Even for Crowpaw, that was fast.

Dragging the rabbit back, Crowpaw dropped it before the cats, his blue eyes coolly looking to Brambleclaw. “That didn’t take long, did it?” Crowpaw meowed, “I suppose we’re allowed to stop and eat it?” He cocked his head to the side, daring someone to object him.

Brambleclaw opened his mouth, frowning, then shut it again as he looked back at the rabbit. The smell was clearly making all of their stomachs groan. The brown Warrior sighed gently, “Of course.” Squirrelpaw’s eyes widened as she saw clear regret in her clanmate’s eyes. Brambleclaw took a breath, his large form relaxing. “Sorry Crowpaw, I’d forgotten how fast Windclan cats can be. This…” His voice became soft. “This moorland must feel like home to you.”

An small uneasiness crept into Crowpaw’s gaze, he quickly looked away with a sharp nod. “It’s fine. Now let’s eat.” Brambleclaw didn’t respond, but there was a grateful warmth around him. Something glowed inside Squirrelpaw at her clanmate’s small action.

It was a small apology, but it was an apology nonetheless.

Maybe, just maybe, the cat was changing for the better.

Maybe she’d get back her friend again.

As the cats began to eat, Brambleclaw turned and found Squirrelpaw looking at him. He swallowed hard, his back fur quivering a little as the apprentice looked blankly at him. They shared a look for a few seconds. He took in a cold breath and smiled softly at the cat, a heavy look in his eyes.

Squirrelpaw didn’t smile, but she nodded softly at him. She wasn’t entirely sure yet. But that little moment, it was certainly better than before.

She gulped down her share of the rabbit, sighing as her hunger settled. It wouldn’t be enough on its own, but it was a good start to the day. She inwardly grinned. Crowpaw was proving himself to the group, little by little. Her fur quivered with delight. Looking around, every cat looked happier thanks to the cat’s catch.

Except Stormfur.

The Riverclan tom held a strange apprehensiveness in his stare, his tail clearly twitching with agitation. Squirrelpaw slid her gaze to where he was looking and she too held her eyes on the sight. Feathertail ate beside Crowpaw, close enough to be touching pelts, but it wasn’t that that made Squirrelpaw unsettled. It was the radiance that glittered in Feathertail’s eyes.

Ah. So Stormfur saw it too. He had the same suspicions as her.

It would make sense. Stormfur had full experience of what a half-clan relationship meant. It was only natural that he was worried, if he saw that look that his sister gave to a different clan cat.

The voice in Squirrelpaw’s head that told her she was overreacting suddenly sounded much more desperate. Kind of like begging.

It was still possible that Feathertail’s admiration was for Crowpaw’s hunting abilities. Any cat would appreciate that.

Looking at him, Squirrelpaw admired things about Crowpaw as well.

The shine of his fur in the cool sun, as well as the confidence that stuck out in his form, pulsing in his eyes. They looked much more striking.

Squirrelpaw began to swallow more out of necessity than pleasure. It was harder to focus on her hunger now she realised how handsome Crowpaw was.

…

It was Sunhigh by the time the group had reached the forest. In a turn of luck, bad luck if Crowpaw’s expression was to say anything, Purdy had kept his promise and had stayed at the forest edge until they returned.

Squirrelpaw hadn’t been the biggest fan of the past kittypet, especially considering his questionable sense of directions, but she still respected that he had been of help to them in the Two-leg place. Plus, the fact he had been willing to spring at Midnight, when she could have easily killed him with one blow, it was respectful to say the least.

Luckily that hadn’t turned into any trouble. And now it was time to hunt for real, before they returned to their travels.

Brambleclaw had suggested they meet up at their old camp, before he and Tawnypelt had stalked away on their own. Squirrelpaw had turned to Crowpaw and Feathertail, assuming they would hunt together, and found Feathertail awkwardly glancing away from the hard gaze of Stormfur. Squirrrelpaw’s tail dropped, so he still didn’t trust the thought of them.

Not that the idea was any more pleasant to Squirrelpaw.

Feathertail flushed with obvious embarrassment. “W-Why don’t we all hunt together?” She mewed, her stare pleading towards her brother. “We’d all do better as a group.”

“Sounds good to me.” Crowpaw added, he looked over to Stormfur welcomingly.

Stormfur looked away, his neck fur prickling. “No.” Stormfur griped, turning with an annoyed swing of his tail. A clear pang of hurt welled in Feathertail’s eyes, her ears dropping back. “I’m fine on my own.” Stormfur either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he padded away into the bushes. Squirrelpaw could see his teeth on display in a grimace.

Squirrelpaw heard his rustling lessen before turning back to her friends. Feathertail’s tail was limp on the ground as she looked down at her paws, wounded. Squirrelpaw felt pity rush through her, it was awful to see Feathertail upset.

At least Crowpaw was there to comfort her.

He shook his head in annoyed confusion before he rubbed against Feathertail’s pelt cordially. “Don’t worry about him. Whatever has gotten burrs stuck in his fur, he’ll get over it. Don’t let it get to you.”

Feathertail still looked upset, but she pressed her tail against the apprentice in appreciation. There was also the flicker in her eyes again.

Squirrelpaw found herself looking away from the two as well.

“Squirrelpaw!” Crowpaw called, “Are you coming?” He was inviting her, he still wanted her there. But Squirrelpaw couldn’t find the energy like before. Not like this.

Fumbling, she kept her gaze away until she was looking at the bushed where Stormfur had disappeared. A quick spark erupted in her brain. “Actually, I might go catch up with Stormfur and hunt with him.”

Crowpaw rose a brow while Feathertail looked up with interest. “Oh.” Crowpaw made a puzzled mrrow. “Are you sure? He said he’d be fine alone.”

Squirrelpaw rolled her tail dismissively, “Of course, he’d say that. But it’s like Feathertail said, we’ll all do better in a group. I’ll go help him; you two will be fine together.” The last word was more straining to say.

“I would really appreciate that Squirrelpaw.” Feathertail mewed with a soft smile. “He would get on better if he had some cat to help him.”

Crowpaw’s tail curled, “Yeah, but are you sure he’d want Squirrelpaw there?”

The Thunderclan apprentice scowled, her fluffy chest puffing out in offence. “Why wouldn’t he? The forest is my kind of territory, you know?”

“I know that. It’s just…” Crowpaw gave Feathertail a stiff glance, his brow creased. Feathertail laughed with a wave of her tail.

“I’m sure he’d love her company.” Feathertail’s whiskers rose, a strange smirk rising on her face. Squirrelpaw cocked her head as Crowpaw nodded with an exasperated sniff.

“What’s going on?”

Crowpaw flicked his tail. “Never mind.”

Feathertail took a tentative step towards her. “Are you sure you don’t want to hunt with us? We can come with you if you like.”

Squirrelpaw shook her head, a little too forcefully. She took a leap away towards the bushes. “I’ll be fine! All the prey won’t be in one place, after all.” She crafted a playful smirk, “I’ll see you guys later. Make sure Crowpaw doesn’t trip over his paws, okay Feathertail!”

“I heard that!” Crowpaw yowled over Feathertail’s laughter as the ginger apprentice pranced away.

“You were supposed to, mouse-brain!” She sang back. Squirrelpaw jumped through the undergrowth, shaking off any leaves that got caught in her fur. Now she was out of sight, she let her artificial smile break.

Pathetic. She didn’t even have the heart to be around her own friends. Not when the question still dug into her like the teeth of a pack of dogs.

Starclan above! She was supposed to be a Warrior! The hero of the forest’s daughter!

And she couldn’t even look a cat in the eye without wanting to melt.

She was gifting the two time together, why? She wanted to believe that she was a good friend supporting the idea that Feathertail did like Crowpaw and giving the two some time to bond.

She knew that wasn’t the truth.

Because every time she did see a sign of that possibility, she felt a burning misery.

She just wanted to get away from that.

A flashing pain pounded on her head. Grumbling, she looked up, letting out a low moan when she saw the cause. “Stupid tree.” She needed to be on her guard. Even if she was looking for Stormfur, she still needed to hunt for herself.

It would do her some good.

Her senses shot around until a familiar musk hit her. And it wasn’t of any kind of prey. At least he didn’t go far.

Squirrelpaw followed the scent of Riverclan until she found Stormfur beside a small stream rushing along a crack in the forest. His ears were fixed downwards, and his head was turned towards the water. Along his back his fur was still spiked with distaste. Squirrelpaw stepped towards him. “Any fish?”

Stormfur sprang a little, turning to the apprentice with fur prickled in alarm. Squirrelpaw held back a laugh. Stormfur stiffened himself, whiskers swirling shamefully. “Oh, it’s you Squirrelpaw. Um, no, The water’s too shallow for fish.”

Squirrelpaw sighed. “Bad luck. Still, found anything yet.”

“Just a mouse. It’s buried over there.” His tail swung towards land where a grand elm tree stood tall. “So, not that I mind.” His voice quavered, “But what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be hunting with my sister and Crowpaw.”

Squirrelpaw shrugged, “Those two will do fine themselves. I thought I’d come and give you some help.”

Stormfur’s face brightened but he still kept still. “Oh, I, uh, I appreciate that. But I said I’d be fine alone.” He said. Squirrelpaw thought he was trying to look bigger than he was. This cat really could be weird.

“Well, I say, we’ll hunt better as a group. And even if you say no, I’m still going to follow you.” She said, lashing her tail to say that was the end of it.

“But-”

“But nothing.” Squirrelpaw meowed, she strolled up to him and gave him a nudge. She could smell squirrel and mice around. “Come on, we’ll go this way.”

Squirrelpaw paced ahead, but she still turned back to wait for Stormfur. The Warrior stood there, nonplussed, a moment longer before sighing with a smiling resignation. Squirrelpaw smiled back. She didn’t know why Stormfur needed to make such a big deal of it.

Then again, she probably couldn’t talk much.

They hunted together, ears pricked and ready. Squirrelpaw had been right, they had worked much better together. Stormfur had been able to find a pair of mice that the two had quickly silenced and buried under the pile. The tom had almost missed a squirrel as it scrambled up a tree, but Squirrelpaw had been able to jump up and catch it before it escaped. Stormfur had nodded with respect as she dispatched the prey. Squirrelpaw had thanked him with a playful bow.

It was good Stormfur was there though, he could carry much more than Squirrelpaw could. They still had time to catch some more, and the aroma of vole lingered in the air, making their mouths water. It hadn’t been long before Stormfur had found the creature and was carrying it back in his teeth.

Squirrelpaw felt impressed at the obvious experience of the Warrior, many Thunderclan cats had told her that Riverclan was a nest of lazy cats who’d rather sleep in the sun than hunt. That couldn’t be less true when she saw Stormfur. He never looked away or unfixed as he stalked the scent he had found, and he was certainly just as strong as any Warrior she knew. Sure the was a strange hesitation around him that Squirrelpaw couldn’t identify, but it wasn’t so distracting that it threw the cat off of his work.

It just hit Squirrelpaw then how impactful this journey really had been. Excluding the obvious, she knew that wouldn’t believe any stories about the other clans again, she didn’t see these cats as rivals but as friends that would forever change how she saw the Clans themselves. And she couldn’t have been more happy about it.

“There.” Stormfur exclaimed as he dropped the vole onto the pile. “That should be enough.”

Squirrelpaw let out a proud chirp as she began to uncover the prey. “See! I told you we’d work better as a team! Let’s get these back to the others, I’m so hungry I could eat a toad!”

Squirrelpaw heard Stormfur chuckle as she began to collect the prey, but it was short and weak. Flicking an ear, Squirrelpaw looked up, becoming concerned when she saw Stormfur looking down with a hazy expression.

Squirrelpaw laid the prey down again. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

Stormfur exhaled, a guilty aura looming over him. “I should have gone with you guys.”

“Huh?”

He let out a frustrated moan. “I’m supposed to be here to watch over Feathertail. I shouldn’t have just left her like that.” He raked his paw across the ground, scowling at thin air. “What if something’s happened to her?”

Squirrelpaw approached the cat, her eyes tender on him. It really was cute how close he was to Feathertail. “Nothing will have happened to her.” She mewed, rubbing her tail against his pelt. “Feathertail can fend for herself, besides she has Crowpaw with her.”

Squirrelpaw could immediately tell those had been the wrong words, as Stormfur glowered, bending over as his amber eyes blazed. “So, she does.”

The venom in his tone wasn’t strong, but it was obvious enough that Squirrelpaw found herself frowning. “What’s your problem with Crowpaw?” She demanded, her neck fur spiking. “I thought you and him were starting to get along!”

Stormfur actually looked cowed at her reaction as he visibly edged away. His tail trailed dust as it wavered from side to side. Closing his eyes, Stormfur let out a soft hiss of irritation. “Ugh! You’ve seen what they’re like, right?”

The strength in Squirrelpaw’s stance reeled. She just about managed to feign ignorance. “What?” She said, her voice shamefully high-pitched.

Stormfur turned, bent over as he steamed. “I know you’re not mouse-brained, Squirrelpaw. You’ve seen how they act around each other.” He padded over to where the stream chattered, staring down at his reflection.

Squirrelpaw wanted to speak up, but Stormfur was only echoing her own thoughts back to her. Actually, the fact another cat shared her assumptions made them look alarmingly accurate. Stormfur knew Feathertail better than anyone.

She must have looked off as Stormfur only glanced at her once before making a bitter chuff. “See, you have noticed!” He returned his eyes to the water, shoulders rising “What could she honestly see in that apprentice?!”

Despite herself, Squirrelpaw’s eyes darted up to the Warrior with a glare. Don’t talk about him like you actually know him! Luckily, she had regained enough control to not say her thoughts out loud, but what she did say was still cold. “Hmm, what could a cat see in an apprentice?”

Stormfur flinched, looking back at her with guilt in his eyes. “Sorry Squirrelpaw. I didn’t mean it like that.” He murmured, his flossy tail trailing on the ground.

The ginger molly softened. She knew that Stormfur wasn’t trying to be hurtful, he wasn’t that kind of cat. “It’s alright.” Squirrelpaw mewed, her own voice growing gentle. “I’m sorry too. I know you’re just worried about Feathertail.”

Stormfur smiled graciously, but he returned his downcast head to his reflection. Squirrelpaw’s ears went back in pity. She went over to the stream, sitting beside the grey tom. He looked down with a misty expression. “I just can’t see how it couldn’t bother them. They’re in different clans!”

Squirrelpaw’s smile tightened. “They might just be friends, Stormfur.”

Stormfur turned to her unhappily. “I want that to be true, Squirrelpaw. But Feathertail… I’ve never seen her act like how she does around him.” Squirrelpaw pressed her teeth together as Stormfur went on. “What happens if they do like each other that way? They can’t just expect the clans will accept it! They could end up exiled, or worse!”

I know.

Squirrelpaw exhaled, gazing off into the distance. “Have you tried asking Feathertail how she feels about him?”

Stormfur scoffed, “Have you?”

The apprentice looked up at him icily. “It never bothered me before.” She lied. “Crowpaw told me you were okay with him and Feathertail being friends.”

Stormfur looked aside, exhaling deeply. “I am. I’m not against Crowpaw as a cat.” Squirrelpaw felt a small relief at that, even though she could sense there was a ‘but’. “I do trust him. I just… I just don’t want Feathertail to get herself hurt.”

“Crowpaw would rather hurt himself before hurting Feathertail!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed, her tail flaring up again.

“I know!” Stormfur insisted. “But it still doesn’t change that they will get themselves hurt if I’m right.” The grey tom struck a paw at his reflection, hissing as his saw his murky face ripple across the water. Squirrelpaw still frowned, but she couldn’t argue. Stormfur wasn’t wrong. And in the end, he was just desperately worried about his dear sister. She couldn’t hold that against him.

Besides, it wasn’t like he knew his words were affecting her as well.

What was she going to do when this was all over? Regardless of whether Feathertail did like Crowpaw or not, it didn’t change how there were barriers that blocked Squirrelpaw from him as well.

Firestar was protective enough of her when she had hung around Bramblestar.

She dreaded to think what he would do if he found out who she was really attracted to.

Squirrelpaw found her own reflection in the stream. Wavering around without direction on the surface of a hollow space. She blinked when she saw the dolour fogging her eyes, closing and opening until she felt she could see her face a little more clearly.

For a brief moment, Squirrelpaw felt like she could see what she’d been before the journey had started.

But that was kittish. It was never going to be like that again.

“I don’t know, Stormfur.” Squirrelpaw said with a swift tiredness. She hated how small she sounded. “I just want to get back home.”

She wanted all these questions in her heart to be answered, whether she liked the answers or not.

Thankfully, Stormfur seemed to accept that answer, he curled his tail around Squirrelpaw’s back. “I know. I do too.” He stated placidly. The two sat in silence, looking down towards the water. Squirrelpaw felt Stormfur twitch a little. “There’s a much bigger river than this at home…obviously,” He added in with a small laugh, “It’s full of fish at every mark. Me and Feathertail learnt how to swim in it together.” Stormfur smiled at his recollections, the peaceful imagery washing over Squirrelpaw with a sympathetic rush. Stormfur’s muzzle thinned, his voice growing faint. “I wonder if it’s still there.”

Squirrelpaw returned his touch, rubbing against him soothingly. “It’s going to be fine.” She grinned up at him with a flicker in her green eyes. “Because even if it isn’t, there’s a much bigger river out there somewhere! And you and Feathertail are going to lead your clan to it!”

Stormfur laughed, “Isn’t that the dream.” He meowed. He looked down at the apprentice, something glimmering in his stare for a moment before he turned away with a sigh. “I just hope Feathertail will be happy when it happens.”

Would Feathertail be happy if she had to leave the cat she cared about?

Squirrelpaw knew how she’d feel.

“Don’t worry about that.” The Thunderclan cat declared, getting up to return to the buried prey. “You ought to ask her. Now come on, I’m starting to digest myself, I’m so hungry!”

The Riverclan tom looked on for a moment before rising up as well, clear wonder in his expression. “Do you actually think she’d tell me?”

Squirrelpaw picked up whatever she could carry. “You’re her brother, aren’t you?” She said, her voice muffled by her full mouth. She wandered away to the direction of the camping sight, slowing down so Stormfur could catch up, but not looking back at him.

She didn’t want to think about those questions anymore.

It was far too exhausting. And it was painful to know they weren’t going away anytime soon.

…

The journey had changed with the rising of the sun.

Midnight had informed them that there was a quicker way to reach home than the Twolegplace, which had suited the group fine until they realised where she was pointing them towards.

Into the direction of the sun. It hung above the sharp tops of the mountain range.

It had been a close vote among the cats, but there was a common feeling of how dire their time was running out that led them towards the latter option. It was unknown territory, but they figured it couldn’t be anymore harder than what they had all faced already. So, the cats had said their goodbyes to Midnight and Purdy, before setting off towards the stones that splintered the clouds.

It hadn’t been too hard at the start, the rock was smooth and not too slippery, and to his credit, Brambleclaw seemed to lead them to paths that weren’t too steep to climb at all.

But as they’d grown higher up, the paths had thinned, and the air had grown colder. Soon they were balancing themselves on thin ridges jutted out from the body of the mountain. Every cat had had to rely on another to balance them at some point. At the very least, the trust the cats now shared was more obvious than ever.

It didn’t mean that any of them were any calmer though.

Squirrelpaw felt her heart in her ears as she carefully held herself on the ridge before her. The others ahead looked just as nervous, even Brambleclaw who’s heavy breathing could be heard from the back of the line. No cat judged him for it. A breeze had met the cats as they walked along, and every cold wisp that made Squirrelpaw’s whiskers twitch made the freezing fear in her belly even stronger.

“You’re doing fine.” Stormfur said, he traversed behind her at the back of the group, just in case any predator tried to sneak up on the group from behind.

Squirrelpaw meant to mutter a thank you, but it was warbled by tense worry. She was trying her hardest to keep her eyes ahead, but the corner of her eye was amazingly vivid, capturing the view that showcased a river, as thin as a whisker from their height, that awaited any cat that was unfortunate enough to drop.

Bad thoughts! Bad thoughts! Squirrelpaw grinded her teeth and pressed on. Just keep moving forward.

In front of her, Tawnypelt shifted on with equal strength. “How much further, Brambleclaw?” She called. Her brother had reached a turn at the mountain-face and not even a second later there was a sudden shout of frustration.

“No!”

Squirrelpaw flinched, leaning to the mountain, so she didn’t lose her balance. The other cats looked equally disturbed. “What is it?” Stormfur shouted.

No cat responded until every cat had made their way around the turn. For a moment, Squirrelpaw felt her worries loosen as she found the others at a wider slab of stone that let the cats all rest together. However, her mouth dropped in horror as she saw the edge ahead of them.

There was a gap between the ridge they currently inhabited and the next solid ground. It wasn’t too far, but the expanse of twisted trees and rough stone that lay at the bottom made it look so much bigger.

“Sh-Should we go back?” Stormfur suggested. Squirrelpaw’s belly twisted at the thought of braving that ridge again, but the drop ahead didn’t look any better.

Brambleclaw’s face twisted into a squint, “Look over there!”

The cats did, and sure enough they saw what he was looking at. On the other side of the drop, the stone was undeniably smoother and wider, more than enough to hold the cats without difficulty.

“There’s bushes growing over there as well!” Feathertail exclaimed. “There might be prey!”

Crowpaw took a step near the edge and sniffed. His eyes brightened. “I can smell rabbits over there!”

“Should we risk it though?” Stormfur mumbled, his eyes wide on the drop below. “It’s a good leap.”

“Its’s not like back there’s any easier.” Brambleclaw started forward, driven by his instincts. Then he paused, his ears dropping back as his tail rested on the stone floor. He looked to the other side, clearly longing to waste no time, but he sighed and retreated on his haunches, looking to the others. “But if you all feel safer going that way, we can.”

Squirrelpaw could tell each cat was trying to hide how surprised they were by her clanmate’s attitude. It wasn’t long ago that he had practically forced them to follow whatever he said was best. But each cat was clearly pleased by what he said. Squirrelpaw could have thought she was ill by the admiration she felt for the Warrior.

Maybe he can make a good leader. When he’s not being a mouse-brain.

Luckily for Brambleclaw, a vote on the matter wasn’t needed. As Crowpaw was clearly preparing himself to spring. “We can’t just stand here as if we’ll grow wings!” He meowed. Before any cat could stop him, he sprang from the ledge. Squirrelpaw’s throat clenched as she saw him in the air, overwhelmed by the thought of him falling. His name was in her throat as he landed, his paws gracefully meeting the stone.

He let out a satisfied puff of air, glancing back to the others with a grin. “Come on, it’s easy!”

Squirrelpaw felt her insides settle, but her eyes went red with anger. He shouldn’t have just jumped off like that without warning! Despite how brave he was, his action could have easily gone wrong! She couldn’t even blame Brambleclaw for how furious he looked at the apprentice’s sudden decision.

Squirrelpaw sighed. Oh, what good will it do to moan about it? They had to follow Crowpaw’s lead now, or else they’d have to just leave him there, he would never be able to jump back to the narrow rock.

Squirrelpaw shook her head. When I get over there, I’m raking his muzzle!

“I’ll go next.” Feathertail offered. Squirrelpaw wondered if it was because the Warrior could sense the other’s annoyance with Crowpaw. She felt annoyance bristle her fur again, trying to block out Stormfur’s words. Feathertail waited a moment before leaping over; Crowpaw readied himself at the other end to steady her if she stumbled. Fortunately, the Riverclan molly landed with a steady thud, and she grinned to Crowpaw with a wave of her tail.

Squirrelpaw felt her paws growing hot.

“All right. Who’s next?” Brambleclaw asked.

“I’ll go!” Squirrelpaw said immediately, walking up to the ledge with her tail flared irritably.

Brambleclaw stiffened, “You don’t have to-”

“I will!” Squirrelpaw hissed, twisting to her clanmate with green fire. She saw Brambleclaw back off, his lips tight. The ginger molly felt her anger evaporate, replaced by a sudden guilt. Brambleclaw hadn’t been the one to annoy her, she couldn’t go at him for nothing. “Sorry.” She mumbled, “But, I’ll be fine. Okay?”

Brambleclaw nodded graciously, a small peace in his eyes.

“See you over there.” Squirrelpaw mewed. She placed her forepaws on the ledge and put pressure into her back legs. She couldn’t mess this up. She steadied her gaze on the other ledge where her friends stood and clenched down the fear in her gut. Pushing herself on her back legs, she leapt into the air, not looking down as she felt the wind traveling in her face.

Her front paws met the stone first but Squirrelpaw felt terror wrack her as she realised her back paws wouldn’t meet the stone. I’m going to fall!

As her stomach hit the crooked edge with a grunt, she could have squealed in terror. She felt her heart in her mouth as her back legs began to fall down, but a strong set of jaws held her scruff, steadying her on the stone as her legs swung in the open air. She scrambled forward, pulled up by the force on her scruff until her belly was resting safely on the stone.

Squirrelpaw was breathing so heavily that she almost did not hear the yowl. “Are you okay?”

Pulling her panting face from the stone, she quivered as she saw Crowpaw standing above her. His blue eyes were wide with concern that made her breathing slow. “I-I’m fine!”

“You did great!” Brambleclaw called from the other side, his voice higher than normal. Squirrelpaw looked back and saw him exhaling with obvious relief. She waved her tail at him thankfully.

Squirrelpaw felt a tender nudge at her side and saw Feathertail ushering her to get up. “You did really well.” The Warrior mewed. Squirrelpaw knew she was just being kind. How could she have let herself stumble like that?

“I would have fallen for sure if you hadn’t caught me.” She looked up again at Crowpaw, the warmth inside her swelling uncontrollably. She could actually feel her eyes drifting as Crowpaw smiled down at her.

“Hey, you still made it, didn’t you?” He simpered, “Just because Squirrel’s in your name, it doesn’t mean you can leap like one.”

Squirrelpaw might have raked his eyes for that earlier, now she just batted his face away with her paw. “Don’t ruin this, rabbit-brain.” She said, getting up to her paws and shaking the loose bits of rock out of her fur. She noticed how close she was to Crowpaw and blushed.

Her breath stopped again as a thought entered her mind. She glanced over to Feathertail, and found the cat preparing herself at the edge in case another cat stumbled. She didn’t seem to mind at all when Crowpaw was with Squirrelpaw. At least, not as obviously affected Squirrelpaw felt when Feathertail was near him.

Did that mean Feathertail wasn’t interested in Crowpaw? Or was she just stronger when it came to hiding her feelings?

Possibly she was just a stronger cat than Squirrelpaw.

Nothing made Squirrelpaw feel any better about it. Nothing was clarified or denied.

Like the drop that could have claimed her, it was just a gaping unknown.

…

Finally, things were beginning to look better. After the cats had all made it to the other side, they’d decided it was the perfect time to hunt. On the other side of the ledge, the stone had linked with a wide valley growing on the mountain side between two rifts. There was even a small trickling stream where the cats had been able to gain a well-deserved drink.

The cats all rested on a small slope where bushes and a few trees stood out gloriously. It was so much more satisfying to relax after how tricky that ridge had been.

Squirrelpaw had come to a familiar decision.

After Crowpaw and Feathertail had volunteered to go hunting again, the ginger molly was beginning to grow tired of her lack of answers. It was clear that she wasn’t going to find out if Feathertail liked the tom or not, so she was going to take care of another issue in the meantime.

She was going to tell Crowpaw how she felt.

She’d had enough of wasting her time with her guts in knots. Once he got back, she was going to get some kind of answer from him, and then maybe she wouldn’t have to spend her time getting so darn frustrated anymore.

The two cats had returned with mouths full of prey. As the cats ate up their shares, Squirrelpaw made sure she was next to Crowpaw. She nudged him with her tail, making him look up curiously.

“What is it?”

“Once you’re done, can you meet me over there?” She pointed her tail in the direction of a pair of thick bushes. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Crowpaw raised a brow, “Can we talk about it here?”

Not a chance!

“No!” Squirrelpaw meowed in a hushed voice. “Just meet me over there, all right?”

Crowpaw swung his tail in exasperation, but he didn’t argue. “Okay, sure.”

Squirrelpaw beamed. “Thank you!”

It didn’t take long for Squirrelpaw to finish her share after that, she gulped the prey down and padded away from the cats. She gave Crowpaw a wink as she made her way to the bushes. He rolled his eyes and continued eating, but he was evidently amused.

Squirrelpaw found the back of the bush and let out a deep breath. It was suddenly hitting her what she was just about to do. She stamped her paw on the ground with a growl. Come on! Don’t be a mouse-heart! This is exactly why you’ve been so pathetic all day! Just tell him how you feel and be done with it, for the love of Silverpelt!

What was she even meant to say? Should she just blurt it out when he came around the bush? How would he even react? She still didn’t know definitively if he liked her or not.

Well then, you’re about to find out.

Good Starclan, the little voice didn’t care about any kind of consequences at all.

But it was really persuasive.

There was no point in fighting it anymore. It wasn’t just that it was affecting how she saw Crowpaw, it was tainting her perception of Feathertail. That made Squirrelpaw feel awful. She remembered how annoyed she’d gotten seeing the two of them on the peak. And then Feathertail had made her look like a fool when she nuzzled Squirrelpaw’s side, beyond worried about her.

No cat deserved this. Squirrelpaw just wanted everything between them to be normal again. But it was her own fault she felt like this, and she needed to take some action herself. She couldn’t just wait around for Feathertail or Crowpaw to say something.

“What did you need, Stormfur?”

Squirrelpaw’s full stomach almost came out of her mouth when she heard the Riverclan molly’s voice. Perking her ears up, she craned her head around the bush. Stormfur and Feathertail had wandered away from the group, sitting together by the small stream that ran down the mountain side. Feathertail’s faced away from Squirrelpaw, but the apprentice could see discomfort darknening Stormfur’s expression.

The grey cat let out a low hiss of breath. “Listen Feathertail, you and Crowpaw-”

Squirrelpaw’s eyes widened, he was actually going to ask her about it?! She kept herself hidden, but her ears were alert like she was hunting on a monster-path.

So it was easy to hear the sharpness in Feathertail’s reply. “What about Crowpaw?” Feathertail’s fur bristled as she growled. “You are all so unfair to him!”

Her voice was hard and defensive, hidden like an adder in the grass. Squirrelpaw felt her jaw drop at the Warrior’s anger.

Would she get so angry over a friend?

Y-You’d do the same! It doesn’t mean anything!

“That’s not the point!” Stormfur spoke like he was treading on the ridge again. “What’s going to happen when we get home? Crowpaw’s in a different clan.”

See, this is it. She’ll become confused and deny everything he thinks and then you can shut up and get on with everything.

“We don’t even know if there will be clans anymore.” Feathertail protested. Squirrelpaw quivered and her breathing became cold. “We’ll be leaving the forest remember!”

Squirrelpaw’s ears dropped down but she still listened carefully. W-Why isn’t she denying anything?

“Do you think the clan boundaries will just vanish because we have to leave?” Stormfur scoffed.

“Have you forgotten already what Midnight said?!” Feathertail snapped. Her tone was cold and unflinching. Unafraid. “The Clans won’t survive if we don’t work together!”

She just has to say no. Squirrelpaw’s tail began to sink to the ground. She blinked desperately. She could just be talking about friendships! That’s still a boundary in itself! It doesn’t mean she-

“And have you forgotten what happens when cats from different clans get together?” Stormfur’s voice pounded in Squirrelpaw’s ears, growing louder as if by some cruel echo. “Look at how our father is torn between two clans! You and I nearly died because we were half-clan! Tigerstar would have killed us if Thunderclan hadn’t rescued us!”

This was it. This was to the point. Feathertail had to face Stormfur’s worries now. She just had to tell him it was a mis-

“But Tigerstar’s gone now. There won’t be another cat in the forest.”

Around her, Squirrelpaw suddenly felt like she was falling. Her ear was crooked and twitching as she listened on. The sibling’s voices grew hazy, like they were at the back of a cave.

“Midnight said all the clans will have somewhere else to live.” Feathertail meowed with a passionate defiance. “Everything will be different.”

The little voice didn’t make a sound over Squirrelpaw’s small whimper.

Stormfur moaned lightly, “But you and Crowpaw…”

“I’m not going to talk about me and Crowpaw!” Feathertail sighed, her voice lowering. “I’m sorry, Stormfur, but this has nothing to do with you.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t listen to Stormfur’s reply, she sat down on her haunches, hidden in the shadows of the bush. She stared down at the ground, Feathertail’s words spiralling around her head.

This has nothing to do with you.

Feathertail’s voice sounded more like Squirrelpaw’s then.

Squirrelpaw looked up, her throat full of a horrible dryness that made her gulp down something raw. She’d gotten an answer to one of her questions. It wasn’t as satisfying as she’d hoped.

She likes him. She admitted it to her own brother. Squirrelpaw might have admired Feathertail if she wasn’t sick with a stupid indiscretion.

She sat there, breathing in chilling, uncomfortable air as she thought about what happened next?

What did happen next?

She liked the same cat as one of her good friends. That was inescapable. And it made Squirrelpaw feel guilty.

Like she was betraying Feathertail by feeling like this.

Betraying one of the cats who had treated her with the most kindness…

Did that mean that Squirrelpaw was intruding on them? While there wasn’t anything to say that Crowpaw liked Feathertail back, the thought of possibly taking the one Feathertail loved away from her was appalling.

Taking away something that made Feathertail happy? The one cat who deserved to be happy more than anyone she knew.

Sure, it wasn’t certain that it could work out, even if Squirrelpaw kept her mouth shut. Like Stormfur had said, it was naïve to assume that generations of the Warrior Code would go away just because there was a new forest.

But, like Feathertail said, if the rules did change… If they could become happy together… Then it would be more likely to become reality if Squirrelpaw didn’t speak up.

But what did Squirrelpaw want?

What she wanted most; she knew. But she also knew that she wanted the best for Feathertail as well. And now she knew that she liked Crowpaw, it was clear what she needed to do to make her happy.

She also knew how much it would hurt her.

Squirrelpaw’s ears twitched as she heard approaching paws. She straightened herself quickly, sniffing back anything that was about to pour out of her and leave her open. She looked at the bush as soon as Crowpaw edged past it.

The grey apprentice held a curious expression, his tail curled as he sat in front of the Thunderclan cat. “So, what did you want to tell me?” He asked, cleaning blood from one of his paws.

He kept his eyes on his friend as she looked down for a moment. He couldn’t see the battle taking place, and he wasn’t able to tell that her anger was a mockery of her own design. He winced as she batted his face with unsheathed claws, catching him across the ear.

“Hey!” Crowpaw snarled, his tail lashing in a fury. “What was that for?”

“You being a flea-brain, that’s what?” Squirrelpaw hissed, squaring him up. “What were you thinking, jumping acrossthe ridge like that without letting us have a say in the matter?”

“Is that what this was about?” Crowpaw bleated, patting over his sore ear. “I thought it was something important.”

“It is important!” Squirrelpaw seethed, making Crowpaw step back with a frown. “You told me I shouldn’t put myself in danger, and you do something like that!”

Crowpaw groaned, “It wasn’t like it was a far jump!”

“I would have fallen if it wasn’t for you! But what if you hadn’t made it! No one would have been there to catch you!” Squirrelpaw turned away from him, whipping his muzzle with her tail.

Crowpaw began to mutter, “I still made it, didn’t-” He droned off, his confidence fading as he realised what he was saying. Squirrelpaw realised it to, who he was mirroring, and she turned back to him with narrowed eyes.

“I was scared, you mouse-brain! We can’t afford to lose anyone.” Squirrelpaw’s tone calmed down marginally, but there was still something twisted in her eyes. “You have to lead Windclan to a new home, remember?”

Crowpaw kept him muzzle shut, but he nodded slowly. He sensed now why Squirrelpaw was really angry with his actions earlier, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d gone through the same thing after all. When she was under that water, he’d never felt so scared of losing anyone. It would be cruel of him to put her through the same thing.

Sighing, he dipped his head in apology. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“I know.” Squirrelpaw muttered, her anger gone. “But that’s just because you’re a mole-head.” Hesitantly, she rubbed against his side, exhaling as she soaked in his soft fur.

Crowpaw didn’t object to her tenderness. Clearly, he had worried her. “Won’t happen again.” He mewed.

“It better not.” Squirrelpaw said sternly, swiping his nose again with her tail. Crowpaw sneezed; how could anything be so fuzzy? “It wasn’t just me you worried…Feathertail was scared too.” She examined him as he sighed again, guilt becoming clearer in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Crowpaw offered, looking up sanguinely at the apprentice. When her eyes softened, he craned his head back up. “But maybe you know how it was for us when you jumped into the river.” He leered.

Squirrelpaw let out a mrrow of laughter, “Shut up, at least I didn’t start crying.” He knew she didn’t mean it, so he laughed along. But even as they walked back to the others, he didn’t know why she’d mentioned Feathertail out of nowhere. He didn’t know that Squirrelpaw had made herself a promise to support her friends as much as she could.

And he didn’t know how much it stung her to do that.

...

Special thanks to @lonely-ghost-606 and @nyanan-1233 for their editing and advice at the beginning of this chapter. Love you guys! Enjoy!

#crowpaw #crowfeather #squirrelflight #squirrelpaw #crowsquirrel #squirrelcrow #brambleclaw #Feathertail #Warriors #Warrior Cats #warrior au #warriors au #fanfiction #fanfic #WindClan #Thunderclan

[bleachanimefan1]

Turtles Forever Part 65

The Lesson

"Donnie, What's the big surprise that you had to drag us all out of bed?" Raph growled, irritated. The three brothers, Splinter, and four girls were in Donnie's lab, wondering the same as well. Donnie was standing in front of them.

"Yeah, Don. Couldn't it wait in the morning? A turtle does need his beauty sleep, you know?" Mikey groaned tiredly, rubbing his eyes, yawning. Leatherhead walked into the room wheeling in a strange monitor. 

"Leatherhead? what are you doing here?" Leo asked.

"Leatherhead and I staid awake all night fixing this. But, we did it! We've finally got it to work!" Donnie shouted barely able to contain his excitement. 

 "Did what, my son?" Splinter questioned. Donnie walked over to Mona and took her hand gesturing her to the bed, with the monitor next to it, to lie down on it. Cautiously, Mona laid down as Raph walked over to her standing beside the bed next her.  Donnie started up the monitor and began to rub some gel on the mutant's stomach. Then he took a sensor that was connected to the monitor and began to rub it over Mona's belly. A picture came on the screen followed by an erratic heartbeat. Oh the screen, was a small baby with a tail as it moved. Raph and Mona's eyes widen in shock as did everybody else as well watching the screen.

"O-Our baby?!" Mona stammered. Raph watched the screen in silence, completely paralyzed in shock. Donnie scanned Mona over again then inspected the image on the screen. 

"By the looks of it, the baby's definitely gonna take after Mona. But, I can't tell what the gender is because of the tail in the way. However, they seem to be healthy." Donnie explained. "I'd say it'll probably be about three months before they are born."

"Donnie, this is the best gift ever! You and LH really out-did yourself!" Raph exclaimed. Donnie smiled sheepishly, rubbing his head. 

"It was nothing really. Just a few broken circuit boards and wires."

 The turtles and the four girls jump down in front of April's shop. They walked in as they entered.

"April?" Leo called out. "Anybody home?"

Suddenly, they hear a scream and the sounds of someone getting beaten up. "No!"

"April's in trouble!" Donnie exclaimed. He pulls out his staff and runs towards the back door. The others follow him with weapons drawn as they ran out into the alleyway. They see April holding a bat.

"I give, I give!" They hear someone shouted. Leo adjusted the light bulb and everyone was surprised to see that it was Casey. April panted as she looked down at him.

"Easy April, it's only me!" Casey protested. April gave him an angry look.

"Casey, what the heck are you doing?" She questioned. "That has to be the dumbest thing in the history of dumbest things anybody could do!" Raph and Donnie walked over and helped Casey up. "What were you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'm glad that's just a whiffle bat," Casey commented, rubbing his head. "Sheesh!"

"No, I mean, why would you do such a thing?" said April as she threw the bat away and started walking towards the back door to her shop.

"You asked me to, remember?" Casey asked.

"I did not!" April protested.

"Sure you did!" Casey said as he steps to her. "You was bragging about your ninja fighting skills," He flaps his arms. "And I said I ought to sneak up on ya sometime and test out how good you was. And you said that sounded like an interesting idea."

April glared at him, placing her hands on her hips. Then she looked at the four brothers and girls. "So, how are you guys doing?" She asked. "I was about to make some hot chocolate. I can easily make enough for nine," She smiled. Everyone cheered as they followed April to her shop.

"Great, I love hot chocolate!" Casey exclaimed, happily.

April counted as the four brothers and girls walked into her shop. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight," She smirked and pointed to herself. "And nine." Slamming the door on Casey's face.

"Come on April, you weren't that scared," Casey protested outside. "You beat the crud out of me!" He groaned. He hears no response. "April? Guys? Geez, everybody's so sensitive around here," said Casey, as he kicked a can and started walking away.

In the living room, Mikey and Leo were sitting on the couch, along with Yuuki and Alopex, Raph was sitting on the chair while Mona sat on the arm rest of the chair, Donnie was sitting on the table while Venus sat in a chair next to him.

"Think Casey's okay out there?" Mikey questioned. Suddenly, Donnie's shell cell began to ring.

"That's probably him now," said Leo.

"He's such a bonehead," Raph commented.

"Uh, hello?" Donnie asked as he answered his phone. But, he winched as he heard static. "Huh, it's not Casey. Sounds like somebody's trying to send me a fax."

April growled in frustration. "Oh that Casey gets me so mad!" She carried a tray with nine cups filled with hot chocolate as she walked over to the table. The three brothers and girls walked over to her at the table, taking a seat.

"What are you talking about, April?" Raph asked. "You totally clobbered him!"

"Well," April hesitated. "It's just that I really thought I was getting somewhere in my training with Master Splinter," The turtles, and girls take their hot chocolates, listening to her. "But Casey totally caught me by surprise. I should have heard him coming. You guys would have."

"Well, if it makes you fell any better, April. I'm still learning myself." said Yuuki.

"It takes a lot of practice," Donnie tells her.

"Master Splinter spent a lot of time training us to be aware of our surroundings at all times," Leo explained. "After a while though, if you studied hard enough, you got a sixth sense for it."

"Maybe you guys could help with my ninja training?" April suggested.

The four turtles give her surprised looks.

"Yeah, that's actually not a bad idea, April." Yuuki commented. The four brothers looked at each other, before shaking their heads.

"No way!" Raph said, waving his hands. The four girls looked at them surprised.

"Why not? I'm a quick learner!" April protested.

"It's not you, April," Donnie explained. "It's us."

"Last time we tried to play sensei...well, let's just say it didn't work out too well," Leo said, hesitantly.

"Yeah, we though we could teach this kid," Raph chuckled. "And we were just kids ourselves."

"Raph, that's no way to tell a story," Mikey argued. "Here, let me do it. It was a dark and stormy night, in a galaxy far far away-"

"Mikey," Raph warned.

"Uh, I mean, many moons ago, on a night much like this one,"

Four younger turtles with shorter masks that covered their heads were running in the sewers.

"We were four young turtle tots facing the most horrible of all dangerous dangers. Dun, dun, dun, the wrath of Master Splinter!"

Splinter smacked his staff against the map of the sewers that was hanging on the wall.

"We'd been warned. We knew what we were not supposed to be doing." Leo added.

Splinter smacks his staff, making the four turtle tots gasp. "Do not go to the surface!" He told them as they were walking across a balance beam. "Never go up to the streets! It is far too dangerous," He warned them as they were having dinner and slammed his teapot down, making them gasp. "Under no circumstances should you ever go above ground," Leo lost his balance, falling off from the beam. "If you ever think of going topside, just do not!" Splinter exclaimed. "You had better hope I never catch you going out of the sewers!"

The four turtle tots gulped and looked at each other.

"So, what did you guys do?" April asked.

Leo opened the manhole cover. "We went topside." The four brothers struggled to slide the manhole cover as they tried to move it. 

"When we finally go the lid off." Donnie said.

"Hey, no cutting in line!" Raph warned as they tried to crawl out.

"Then move your big fat shell!" Mikey exclaimed. They climbed out and looked around the alley in wonder and amazement.

"It's amazing!" Leo said. "All this open space!"

They walked further down the alley, exploring. "Man, Master Splinter's been holding out on us," Raph said. "Up here, it's...it's..."

"Beautiful," Donnie finished.

"What we didn't know was that just around the corner, was destiny. Or actually this kid that needed help," Mikey said. 

A tall black haired boy was wearing a red shirt, blue jeans and sneakers. With him was another boy who was wearing glasses. They watched as the older boys were playing hockey in the streets.

"It's Danny McDonough and his wolf pack," The boy wearing glasses said.

"Man, these guys think they own the street," The taller boy whined. "How come they gotta play in front of my steps, Stevie?"

"I'll help you," Stevie explained, clenching his fist. "We'll stand up to them." He glanced over at the older boys nervously, gulping.

"I'd like to, but they'd just beat the crud out of us. You just go on around and go home," The taller boy told Stevie. "I'll be okay."

Stevie placed a hand on the taller boy's shoulder. "Be careful. I'll see you tomorrow." The taller boy waved as his friend left. As the taller boy turned to walk to his house, the older boys blocked him.

"Hey guys, here comes Arnie dork. You forgot to pay your toll yesterday. This here's our street!" Danny said, jerking his thumb to his gang.

"I...I don't want no trouble," the boy replied, nervously.

"Well, you got trouble." Danny said as he and his gang advance closer. The boy pushed past Danny and his gang and took off running. They chased as they skated after him.

In the alley, Raphael was standing on top of a dumpster.

"I am Raphael, king of the trash!" He exclaimed. The other three turtles climbed onto the dumpster, but Raph threw them off.

"Sorry, Raph," Leo said as he picked Raph up by his leg and knocked him down. "You're the trash and I'm the king!"

"All hail Leo! King of the trash can!" Mikey cheered. Suddenly, Donnie heard voices that were coming closer towards them.

"Guy's, somebody's coming," He told them. The boy ran into the alley while the four turtle tots hid underneath the dumpster. The boy saw that he was trapped as he was at an dead end. He leaned against the wall panting, trying to catch his breath. As he stood up to run away, his eyes widen. 

"Oh crud," The boy muttered. He backed up as Danny and his gang skated towards him.

"Poor little fella," Danny said, smirking. "He ran into a dead end." 

The four brothers cringed as they heard the boy getting beat up.

"Somebody ought to help that kid," Leo whispered.

"Yeah, finally some real action," Raph murmured, getting up, ready for a fight. But, Donnie stopped him.

"Remember, we can't be seen," He told them.

As the gang was beating the boy, a trash can suddenly came flying at them and hit one of them. "Ow! Hey man, what's your deal?" He shouted as he pushed one of his friends. Mikey threw a trash bag at one of them.

"Ow! Hey, cut it out!"

Then a rope was thrown at one of their feet, being pulled. One of the boys lost their balance and fell on top of Danny, placing his hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Hey, quit it!" Danny said. He turned towards the boy at their feet getting ready to beat him up some more.

"Danny! Lunch time!" Danny's mother called out. He turned to the boy.

"Next time, pay your toll if you want to use our street. Come on, we're outta here," Danny said as he and his gang left.

"That's when young "Master Leo" convinced us to help the kid out," Mikey said.

"To train him so he wouldn't need little green guardian angels all the time," Donnie added.

"We thought we already knew everything there was about ninjitsu, so how hard could teaching be?" Leo said.

"And it had to be better than being stuck in the sewers doing nothin'." Raph said.

"Okay," Leo explained as he turned to the other three turtles. He was wearing a red hat that covered his face, blue jeans, a yellow shirt and brown jacket. "You guys know the plan. We'll each take turns teaching the kid what we know. Agreed?"

"Agreed." The other three turtle tots saluted.

"But remember, guys," Donnie warned. "No matter what happens, we can't let Master Splinter know what we're up to."

Leo nodded and walked over to the boy as he was getting up. The boy groaned as he rubbed his arm. "Hey kid," He turned to Leo. "I saw what happened earlier. You know, you really shouldn't let those bullies push you around like that."

"Oh, it's no biggie," The boy rubbed his arm. "I'll heal."

"It IS a big deal," Leo argued. "It's a matter of honor! You can't surrender your honor so easily. The street belongs to everybody."

"Not for kids like you and me," The boy looked away crossing his arms. "I'm too small."

"No! Those guys are small because they have no heart and no honor. My sensei, my teacher, always taught me that true strength comes from within," Leo explained.

"Maybe, but how do you get it?" The boy asked.

"You train. You train in the art of self-defense," Leo said as he did some moves. The boy watched in awe. "I can help you, teach you." The boy smiled at him.

"Okay, then let's meet back here tomorrow, the same time." Leo said. 

The next day, Leo and the boy were on the rooftop, sitting with their legs crossed. The boy was struggling. 

"First of all, you have to be serious about wanting to change things. You have to feel the power, connect with the power. Find your inner core, your honor, your true heart. Have you found it yet?" Leo explained as the boy continued to struggle more.

"Uh, I don't think so. Uh, little dude, I can't feel my legs," The boy said.

"That's a good thing, stay focused and breathe and you'll find your true strength," Leo told him. As Leo watched the boy as he tried to meditate, his mind began to wonder back to yesterday with his encounter with the girl with pig tails. 

"Uh, little dude, I don't think this is working." The boy said. Leo snapped out of his thoughts and looked at him. How long was he spaced out. His eyes widen. He needed to get back home, fast! Leo stood up. "Just keep practicing. You'll get it! I-uh, need to go to the bathroom. I'll be back!" He said, running.

At the turtle's old Lair, Mikey and Donnie were sparring. Splinter was watching them. Donnie jumped to kick but Mikey dodged it. "Excellent, Michelangelo. Donatello, lift your leg higher for the kick," Splinter instructed. Mikey knocked Donnie and he landed in front of Splinter. Donnie sat up, rubbing his head.

"Sorry, Master Splinter," He said. Splinter held his hand out and Donnie took it as Splinter helped him up.

"That is enough for now. You may rest, my son. It is Leonardo's turn to train," Splinter said as he turned to the couch. Raph was watching the TV with a stuffed bear, sitting next to him that was wearing Leo's mask and a T-shirt.

"Uh-oh, oh boy..." Raph muttered as he looked back as Splinter then back at the bear.

"Come Leonardo," Splinter called out.

"Master Splinter, we wanna keep practicing!" Mikey called out as he and Donnie tried to distract him.

"But it is Leonardo's turn," Splinter explained.

"Leo won't mind, will ya Leonardo?" Mikey called out. Raph lifted the stuffed bear's arm, waving at Splinter.

"Uh, wave if it's okay, Leonardo," Donnie said, nervously. Raph lifted the stuffed bear's arm, waving at Splinter. 

"See? Leo doesn't mind." Mikey answered. Splinter frowned in suspicion.

"Uh, is this right, Master Splinter?" Mikey called out as he and Donnie began to spar.

"What about this leaping over the leg sweep?" Donnie asked. "I think I'm getting better!"

Splinter turned to them."I said enough practice. Leonardo, Leonardo?" He called as he began to walk over to the couch. Mikey and Donnie cringed as he got closer.

"This is it, it's all over! We are so cooked!" Mikey panicked as Splinter reached a hand out. Donnie and Mikey screamed. Raph immediately shut his eyes.

"Leonardo!" Splinter shouted as he placed his hand on Leo's shoulder.

"Yes, Master Splinter?" Leo answered. Splinter blinked in confusion.

"It is time for your practice," He explained.

"Oh, okay, coming sensei," Leo said, giving Raph a wink and a thumbs up. Raph returned it. Leo jumped over the couch and flipped, landing next to Splinter.

"Sorry I didn't answer earlier," Leo said as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. "I kind of dozed of there for a moment." He started his katas. Donnie and Mikey were watching Leo and Splinter. Donnie nodded to Mikey and he quietly slipped away without Splinter noticing.

On the rooftops, Mikey finished dressing up, wearing the same outfit that Leo was wearing. "Now the student has become the master," He chuckled as he walked over to the boy. "Ready for more learning?"

"Well, I've been trying to be serious and breathing stuff to find my inner strength like you said,...but kinda makes my head hurt," The boy said as he scratched his head. "And I still can't feel my legs."

"What, are you kidding me?" Mikey questioned. "Get up, get up!" He helped the boy up. "Forget all that baloney, the first and most important lesson is this: you need the right attitude!" The boy blinked, confused, looking at Mikey. "And part of having a winning attitude is having a cool battle cry! A heroic superhero battle cry, like in the comic books!"

"I got it! Goru guru sama!" Mikey exclaimed. The boy scratched his head, completely confused.

"Go ro ro bo...wha?" He questioned.

"Goru guru sama! It means Mister Thunder! Goru guru sama! It's perfect for you!" Mikey exclaimed. "If you yell out Goru guru sama while charging into battle, your foes will flee like cowards before you! Ooo I really wanna see that! Come on, let's try it!" 

"Oh, they're just gonna cream us again," The boy complained as Mikey lead him into the alley until the two spotted Danny and his gang.

"Not with your cool battle cries!" Mikey told him as he pushed the boy towards the gang. "Remember, Goru guru sama. Now, go get 'em!"

The boy gulped then narrowed his eyes and walked over to Danny and his gang. He clenched his fists.

 "Goru go bolo ama!" He shouted. The gang smirked and skated over towards the boy and began beating him up. Mikey cringed.

"Maybe I didn't give him the right name..." He murmured as he watched.

Donnie and Mikey met on the rooftops. Mikey took off his clothes and tosses them to Donnie.

"How's it going?" Donnie asked.

"Um, great," Mikey answered, hesitantly.

"Good, because I got something really special planned for them. They're gonna love it!" Donnie said as he put on the hat.

The boy sat across from Donnie looking down at a chessboard that was sitting in front of them. "It's really important to really think your actions through. It's all like a game of chess," Donnie explained. "You have to be thinking three to four moves ahead of your adversary. Planning, knowing what's coming."

The boy looked at the chessboard unsure of what to do and scratched his head. "Uh,..." Donnie tapped his finger on the table. He looked up at the boy, who still hadn't made a move. Hours seemed to passed, as Donnie had his head laid on the table and a pigeon landed on him. He looked up again to see that the boy still hadn't made a move.

"Well, it might take a little more time...for some people, I guess," Donnie said as he stood up. "I'll be right back." He left as the boy stared at the chessboard, thinking.

Donnie ran to Raph, handing him the clothes and tossed the hat on Raph's head. "Good luck," He told him. Raph quickly got dressed and ran over to the boy, sitting down.

"I've been studying the board like you said and I still don't get it. Like the horsey, though," The boy said as he held up the knight piece. "I'm trying to think it through, but I don't know."

"Listen guys, the first and most important lesson is to never think. Never! Just act and react and always attack!" Raph said.

"I sure wish you'd make up your mind. Be serious, use your battle cry, think it through, never think! I don't get it!" The boy shouted, confused.

"What you need are weapons. It's all about the weapons," Raph said. "We gotta find you some kind of weapon."

Raph looked at the chessboard before getting an idea. Across from Raph and the boy were three cans that were sitting on the ledge. Raph held the chess pieces in his hand and threw them, knocking down all three cans. "Ha!" He turned to the boy. "You try!"

"Uh...kay." The boy answered nervously, holding the chess pieces in his hand. He threw it but the pieces hit the wall and rebounded back towards him and Raph. Raph cringed.

"Hmm, maybe you just need a better target. Let's see how you do in combat," He said. Raph lead the boy into the alley.

"Now remember, focus on your weapon. It's all about the weapons!" He explained.

The boy threw the pieces at the gang but missed as the pieces landed near their feet. Raph cringed as he watched the boy get beat up by the gang.

"Maybe we need to work on the kid's aim a little...or find him a different weapon." He murmured.

Back in the Lair, Mikey, Donnie and Leo stood across from Splinter as he stood in front of them. "Now, I wish for you to take what you have learned and use it in pairs. Michelangelo and Leonardo, Donatello, and Raphael," Splinter raised an eyebrow, seeing that Raph wasn't there. "Where is Raphael?"

"He's in the shower?" Donnie answered, nervously, jerking his thumb.

"Yeah, yeah, he's in the shower," All three turtle tots said together. Leo smiled sheepishly. Splinter gave them a suspicious look.

"You four have been acting very strangely of late," He pointed out.

"Uh, Raphael, it's time to get out of the shower!" Leo shouted, running off. Donnie and Mikey smiled sheepishly and followed after him. Splinter had a confused look on his face watching them leave. Raph walked in as the others ran over to him. "Raphael!"

"Raphie, hold still!" Mikey told him and Leo dumped a bucket of water on Raph.

"There."

"What was that for?!" Raph demanded.

"You just got out of the shower," Leo whispered. Raph turned to Leo and growled until he saw Splinter walking up to them with a stern look on his face.

"I just got out of the shower, sensei," Raph explained. All four smiled sheepishly as they looked up at Splinter.

"Hmm, I can see that," Splinter answered, hesitantly, crossing his arms."Do you always shower with your mask on?"

"Uhh, yeah, it's a great way to keep it clean!" Raph said. Splinter gives him a questionable look, shaking his head. 

"Come, let us resume your training,"

In the alley, Leo, who was wearing clothes again, stood with the boy. "Okay, now it's time to try out what you've learned, to face your enemies."

"But you already made us face 'em, twice!" The boy pointed out. "And they creamed me both times!"

"Em, I did?" Leo asked, confused. "Well, let's try it again, using everything you've learned." He pushes the boy towards the gang. Standing back, watching, Leo saw his brothers walking over towards him.

"So, you think he learned anything?" Mikey questioned.

"I hope so. I mean, you taught him self-defense, right, Mikey?" Leo asked in response. "How to punch and kick? And I covered inner strength."

"I didn't teach him any fighting skills," Mikey answered, confused. "I thought Raph was gonna."

"I didn't," Raph shook his head. "Donnie, did you?"

"Oh shell," Donnie muttered in realization.

"Go so bo gara!" The boy shouted. The four turtle tots cringed as they saw the gang beat the boy up again.

"Okay, we're gonna start over," Leo said. "But this time with the real basics."

"Right!' Mikey commented. "Or as Master Splinter would say, "the foundation of any house must start strong and-" A shadow towered over them and Mikey made a girlish scream as Splinter stood over them.

"Master Splinter!" The four turtles exclaimed.

They gasped, seeing Splinter was not happy. He was furious.

"Um, Master Splinter, we can explain," Donnie explained. "We've been teaching."

"Like you!" Mikey exclaimed. "But not as good as you."

"You know, trying to follow in your footsteps?" Leo asked, sheepishly.

"There's this kid and-" Raph started to add but Splinter hold his hand up.

"Enough! Home, now!" He snapped, angrily, crossing his arms.

"But...the kid," Raph protested.

"We can't just abandon him," Mikey defended.

"You are not ready to teach! You could do more damage than good. The child must find his own path, as you must find yours. Now come, we are going home," Splinter told them. All four turtle tots whined as the hang their heads down.

Everyone busted out laughing out loud. "Oh man, was Splinter angry!" Mikey exclaimed.

"He must have made us practice for 78 hours straight," Leo recalled.

"I think he wanted to make sure we were so tired, we wouldn't be able to go topside," Donnie said.

"So whatever happened to this kid, anyway?" April wondered, raising an eyebrow. The four turtles looked at each other.

"You know, I don't know," Leo answered, shaking his head.

The boy was walking down the street with a solemn look on his face. "I'll just have to tell that kid in the red hat the training isn't working. Guess I don't have what it takes."

"Hey geek boy, doing a little reading?" He heard and looked up to see Stevie being picked on by Danny and his gang. "Oh, you're gonna cry? Oh look, he's gonna cry!"

"Give it back!" Stevie shouted as he tried to grab for his book.

"Stevie?" The boy asked, before narrowing his eyes, growling. 

"What are you gonna do about it?" The gang asked before hearing a loud scream until Danny was punched to the ground. The others skated towards the boy. The boy ducked, causing one to wack the other with his hockey stick. He grabbed the stick and punched the older boy in the stomach and the face. Danny got up with a stick in hand seeing the boy knocking his gang down like they were nothing. He growled and skated over to him striking with his stick. The boy blocked it, striking back until he knocked Danny off of his feet making him fall to the ground. 

He looked up at the boy in fear before he and his gang skated away, leaving him and Stevie alone.

"That's right, you better run!" The boy exclaimed. "You bullies better watch it, because Arnold Casey Jones aren't letting you push nobody around anymore!"

"Gora...gora...Goongala! Goongala! Goongala!" He roared out loud as his voice echoed throughout the streets.

"Wow," Stevie said in awe with his mouth slightly dropped. Casey walked over to him and handed Stevie his book.

"Come on, Stevie, I'll walk you home."

#tmnt #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2003 #fanfiction

[themusicplayedherlife]

Take a Chance (16)

pairing: steve rogers x reader characters: steve rogers, reader, word count: 3k+ warnings: fluff, description of child birth, a bit of angst, some 18+ allusions in the beginning a/n: we’ve come to the end (almost--epilogue coming soooooon)!! i want to thank everyone who has read and kept up with this series <3 i had many moments when i wanted to give up especially after the notes started dwindling and when i realized the masterlist has more notes than the actual story lmfao, but i pushed that aside and instead started writing for myself and it somehow worked out. this story doesn’t end like the movie; the movie has a beautiful twist and ending that i didn’t want to copy or translate to writing. this was a different story inspired by the movie and reader had her own issues and those issues are what she was supposed to work out, steve helped, and shrimp did too in their own way.

once again, thank you to everyone that has stuck around, commented, liked and reblogged! i appreciate all of you <3

prev || all || epilogue

Steve’s arm is under your head and bent so long fingers can lazily smooth out your hair from your sweat slick skin. The cool air of the night brushes against your warm skin from the the open veranda of your small hut over the clear waters of Bora Bora.

He stretches your left hand out with his, staring up at the beautiful sparkling ring that now belongs to you for as long as he’ll have you—no, for as long as you live.

“What about ring?”

“Anillo,” you tell him.

He brings down your hand to kiss the back of it. “Hand?”

You adjust your head to look up at him. “You should know this.”

His eyebrows pinch together, lips pursing for a moment before his face brightens. “Manos!”

You hum in contentment, hiding your smile from him by gazing back at the ring that somehow still shimmers in the dead of night. “Fingers?”

The fingers in your hair pause and his chest rumbles. “Uh.”

“I’ll give you a hint. It starts with de,” you say, folding down your fingers except for two.

“De…dos!”

You laugh softly. “You’ve got it!”

“I’ve got a good teacher.” He turns his head slightly to press a kiss to your hair, slowly lowering your hand back down. “Quiz me more.”

You turn on your side and look up at him to find him staring down at you with a soft smile. “I won’t go easy on you.”

“I was counting on it.”

You bite your lip and sit up, not caring that the thin, white sheet covering your body pools to your waist, leaving you exposed to his eyes and the beautiful glittering waters. You scoot forward and slip your hand under the sheet to pat his leg just under his knee. “Leg?”

“Uh, pierna?” he asks a little unsure and you smile at the confusion crossing his pretty features.

“You sure?”

“Yes?”

“Well, you’re right.” He grin stupidly and you can’t help but snort. “Be more confident, Steve.” You slowly bring your hand up to his knees. “Knee?”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, suspicion beginning to pool in his eyes. “Rodella?”

“Close. Remember, double l’a are pronounced as if it were a y and it’s di not de. Rodilla.” He repeats it successfully and you nod as you trace the strong muscles of his thighs flexing under your soft touch. “Thighs?”

“Muslos,” he says breathlessly, blue eyes darkening.

You trace higher, just barely brushing against the hair on the base of his pelvis and ignore the hitch of his breath to hike up to his stomach. You tap it teasingly at the small playful growl that escapes his lips.

“Baby,” he whines and you can’t help the excitement that builds up at that low, rough voice of his.

“You’re being quizzed.”

He grunts, head slumping back into the pillow as you caress the slowly tensing muscles of his stomach. “It starts with an E.”

“Uh-huh?” You continue to run your finger up and down his chiseled stomach, loving the way his muscles react to your touch. “And what follows after that?”

“I don’t know,” he groans—whether from not remembering the word or from your touch, you don’t know. But it’s still a win for you.

You gently lift yourself and box his thighs between yours as you lean down to just barely trail your lips up his stomach. He sighs contently. “Estómago.”

“Fuck,” he says through a breathy sigh. “Wouldn’t have remembered that.”

“Then maybe you need a recap.” You knead his chest followed by wet kisses, slowly scooting up. “Pecho?”

He places his hands on your waist, one hand trailing down to your thigh as he slowly sits up. “Chest.”

“Cuello?”

“Neck.” He brings you closer to him, hard length pressing against your wet, warm core, a small gasp escaping your lips when he grinds up.

His blue eyes are hazy, dark, staring down at you with so much love and desire, but he doesn’t do more than grind, doesn’t do more than flex his fingers into your skin. He’s waiting for you, just as you’ve been waiting for him.

It’s scary how easy it is to get lost in him, but it’s even scarier how much you want to delve deep into him, into this. There’s a fleeting thought—did you feel the same way that night? Maybe. Maybe not. But that night doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is the future you’re building together—a future you had desperately tried to deny.

You love him.

Lips hover, fingers graxe against warm skin, hot breath fanning. “Labios.” It’s barely said, more of a breathy whisper.

He loves you.

He answers in kind. “Lips.”

And there’s no distance between you.

“Can you see?”

You sigh exasperatedly. “No, Steve. I can’t see.”

This is the third time he’s asked you since he blindfolded you, wanting to surprise you with what he’s been working on for the last couple of months.

His hands are on your bulging stomach and his chest is pressed against your back and it’s ridiculous how you’re both waddling. Now that your stomach is practically the size of a basketball, his hands are always on your stomach, not that they weren’t always on you before. But Steve loves the feeling of Shrimp kicking and moving. You don’t blame him, you love it, too.

It’s really crazy how there’s a life growing inside of you.

“Okay. Okay. You ready?”

“Yes.”

His hands leave your stomach and Shrimp moves, almost as if following after daddy’s hands. You laugh and Steve rustles around.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I think Shrimp misses you already.”

Steve’s hands find your stomach again and he coos gently—“Do you, honey? But I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”

There’s a smile on your face and you wish you could see the tenderness in his gaze. Shrimp kicks in response and he can’t help but chuckle, the sound affectionate and so full of love for your little one.

Steve’s warmth leaves your tummy and instead his fingers brush against your cheeks. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“Steve—“

“No whining, come on.”

You roll your eyes but nod, doing as he says and the blindfold comes off with a quick pull of his fingers. He maneuvers around you, standing behind you once more and wrapping his arms just above your breasts, pressing your back against his chest once more.

“Open them.”

Eyes flutter, chest constricts, and Shrimp kicks—and there’s a moment where you don’t know what to say. You still don’t know what to say.

“It’s…”

For the past few months, this room has been off limits to you. At first, you had been the one to exile yourself from the room, thinking maybe Steve could use it as his bedroom or an office of sorts to get away from you, but there wasn’t any need for that when you both found a balance at home. Then, it was Steve barring you from entering, wanting to keep the room a surprise for you.

He had enlisted the help of Bucky and Sam (and Ben, too), who would come over often to help, sometimes Clint and Tony, too. They’d spend hours in this room and you’d hear their groaning and complaining (from Tony mostly—“why didn’t you just buy it assembled? I’m getting splinters!”) from building the crib and a few other pieces of furniture you and Steve selected for the nursery.

And while seeing everything up and ready for your little one is an already overwhelming feeling, it’s what is on the walls that causes your heart to slam into your ribcage and the reason behind the prickling in your eyes and nose. “Steve… you… you did this?”

You maneuver around the crib in the middle of the room as a delighted gasping sob escapes your lips and there’s shuffling behind you, nervous shuffling. With a gentle hand you trace the beautiful painted branches of the thick tree with green leaves and yellow flowers on a light blue backdrop; your fingers find the Polaroid pictures, the ones of you and Steve and your friends and family pressed messily, and somehow so carefully and beautifully on the branches. You linger on a recent picture you took at another family barbecue, you sitting on Steve’s lap, your mouth open in a genuine laugh and Steve’s hand on your stomach and wrapped around your waist, face hidden in your shoulder, but his eyes peek over your shoulder, crescent eyes smiling at the camera. Bucky took this picture, didn’t he?

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you find him rubbing the back of his neck.

“I did, yeah,” he answers timidly and your heart swells. “Took a lot longer than I expected, but…”

“It’s amazing.”

His eyes meets yours and as soon as he sees your tears he rushes forward and cups your cheeks, wiping the tears away. “Baby—why—what’s wrong—“

You laugh and it’s messy and Steve’s expression softens. “It’s hormones! Shrimp makes me a mess, I swear.”

He chuckles, his forehead thumping against your gently. “Is it really just Shrimp?”

Your hands perch on his shoulders. “No,” you admit. “It’s also because I’m so happy.”

He hums gently and his lips graze your forehead. “Good.” He brings you close to him as much as he can with your tummy in the way. “Do you think Shrimp will like it?”

“Like it? They’ll love it!” you assure him, hands gliding up to cup the back of his neck and tugging on the short hairs playfully. “All the memories we’ll make together, all the people that are eager to meet Shrimp, they’ll be on this wall for them to always look at and remember: they’re loved.” You nuzzle into him. “You’re the most amazing dad, Steve. Our Shrimp is lucky to have you.”

He breathes deeply, it’s shaky and stuttery. “I love you.”

It’s a weird feeling knowing that you could be moments away from bringing life into this world--the pain is there, it’s burning and searing, getting stronger and harder to ignore, coming quicker than before. Steve is here too, cradling your hand to his chest as you hold on for dear life, needing some kind of grounding. You can faintly see him and it hurts--it hurts so much. You’ve been pushing for hours and hours--when will it stop?

Your vision blurs, head falls back against the pillow--push! You have to push! You’re so close! So damn close!

Steve hovers over you, trying to catch your eyes, keep you looking at him. How can a man be so beautiful? Will Shrimp look like their dad or you? You wouldn’t mind it if they looked like Steve, they’d be so beautiful, like a little puppy, chasing you around with an adorable giggle. Steve would hold their hands and help them run after you. He wouldn't ever let you run. Not from him. And not from Shrimp.

With a final push, your legs feel like lead, your body falling back and that’s when you hear it--the loud wailing--their cries, their beautiful cries.

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs. Rogers, you have a healthy, beautiful boy.”

“We have a boy,” Steve whispers, his voice rough and raw--eyes red and so beautiful.

You’re tired, arms weak, but you still hold your arms out--you wanna hold him, you wanna feel him close to you. He’s covered in goo and blood, but you don’t care, not when he’s pressed up against your chest, his wails telling you he’s alive and here, with you--with Steve. “We have a boy,” you repeat, voice hoarse and Steve presses a kiss to your head, so tender and gentle.

You have a beautiful baby boy.

He cries in your arms, tiny hands balled up into fists, thin blonde hairs on his little bald head sticking up awkwardly and you can’t help but laugh—your mom had claimed your heartburn was caused by Shrimp having a lot of hair. You didn’t believe her at first, but now you do.

“Angel,” Steve says softly. “He’s our little angel.”

Your lips twitch and you stare down at your crying baby waving his little fists. “Angel,” you repeat, spanish laced into your voice. “Angel Steven Rogers.”

Amora and Sam’s Wedding

The night air is brisk and welcoming to your heated skin.

Most of the guests are gone, including the bride, who sneaked off at some point during the reception, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seems to be taking advantage of the fact she’s gone by flirting a mile a minute with Wanda and Natasha, even you, and slamming down drinks that Bonky?—Buck?—Duck?—Bucky?—keeps pouring. Or maybe you’re the one pouring them? Honestly, you don’t know. You just know your head is light and sometimes your legs wobble under you when you try to walk.

You sigh deeply, lifting the bottle of expensive champagne you’ve been carrying around to your lips before passing it on to Steve, who accepts it and immediately takes a swig before twisting the bottle into the sand between you.

Wanda squeals when Bucky wraps his arms under her knees before running out into the water, Sam and Natasha right on their heels, spurring the brunette on and taking pictures and videos.

You throw yourself back onto the ground, not caring about the sand that clings to your exposed shoulders or your hair. “So, she left you, huh?” Your words are lazy, barely any emphasis on vowels and consonants, but Steve seems to understand.

“Yeah.”

“Just like that?” you ask into the night air, the stars barely pushing through the inky black sky full of pollution. The moon is somewhere around here, too, but you can’t find it.

“Just like that.” He’s devastated, heart aching, voice cracking, and you feel for him, you do.

“Love is hard,” you tell him, hardly sparing him a glance. You probably should. If you saw his wrecked expression, you’d probably have shut up and joined your friends in their fun. “But she knew what she wanted, Stevie, you can’t fault her for that.”

Laughter from the crashing waves reaches your ears, Natasha calls out your name and you only raise a hand in response and wave her away. She continues whining, but something or someone steals her attention and your name is no longer being called.

“I know,” he says after a moment as he lays down next to you.

“I think she saved you from a much worse fate.”

“And that is?” He’s skeptical. You don’t blame him. Steve seems like the romantic type from how tenderly he spoke about Shannon—wait, that’s not it… Cher? Sharon? Ah, who cares!

“Being in a loveless marriage,” you tell him softly, your mind clearing as you think about your childhood, about your failed relationships, about every single love story that has fallen like a broken bridge crashing into a river. “Imagine giving her your all, but then realizing that maybe you weren’t meant to be and you end up stuck and miserable?” You turn to him. “And your kids are stuck and miserable with you? That’s worse. Because it’s no longer just about you and her, now there’s these tiny little people who are relying on you, but instead of helping them, you’re hurting them.”

“You don’t know that.”

You blink slowly, taking in the harsh glare he’s sending your way. You smile. “Before you asked Sharon to marry you, did you ever talk about marriage? Kids?”

His glare melts and something else takes its place—hesitance. “...no.”

You raise an eyebrow as if to say—see. He turns away. “She loved you, probably still does, but the things you wanted weren't in the cards for her. Probably never will be.” You return your stare to the sky. “She’s chasing something else, something she wants more. Most people are.”

He sits up and takes out the bottle from the sand to drink from it. “What about you?” You hum in question. “Are you chasing something, too?”

“No,” you answer truthfully, moving your gaze to him only to find him staring back down at you with those blue eyes glittering brighter than any clear ocean, hotter than any fire. “I’m running away.”

His eyebrows furrow and you have the urge to reach out and smooth out the tension, but you don’t. “Why?”

“Because love isn’t just hard. It’s scary and I’ve seen and been through enough disappointment in my life to know that it's capable of breaking me into tiny little pieces.” Your hand rests on your stomach. “I don’t want to hurt an innocent because their dad and I couldn’t play nice. I don’t want to hurt them like I’ve been—“ you swallow and the breeze enters your lungs, filling you with a coldness that you try to push out with an exhale. “Like I’ve been hurt.”

He frowns and you sit up, taking the bottle from his hands to chug down the bubbly liquid that burns your throat, but you don’t care. “How do you know that if you don’t take a chance?” You pause in your drinking, his stern voice causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You’re telling me that it’s great that Sharon spared me the pain in the long run and maybe you’re right. But the pain that I’m feeling? The pain you’re running from? It’s a reminder that we’re human, that we can grow from it. That we love strongly.

“I took a chance with Sharon, and I don’t regret it.” Your hand trembles at the defiance in his voice and you place the bottle back in the sand. “It hurts, sure. And it’ll probably hurt for a long while, and that’s okay. But one day. One day I know I’ll find someone who’ll accept my love and they’ll return it, and it might not be perfect, we’ll fight and maybe we’ll hurt each other, but at the end of the day, we’ll work through it together. We’ll meet halfway.”

Wanda screams your name and Bucky calls for Steve, but your gaze is trapped by the intensity in his eyes.

“Love is hard and painful,” he concedes. “But it’s also beautiful and magical. And I hope one day, you’ll take the chance to discover the beauty of love.”

Your mouth hangs open and you both stare at each other, the calls of your name drowned out by the waves of the ocean, by the heat of his eyes, and the alcohol strumming in your veins.

Hands wrap around your wrist and they’re tugging you to your feet—“let's go! Come on! Sam got more booze!”

Steve stays sitting on the sand as Natasha pulls you along with her, a bottle of something stronger thrusted into your hands, but your eyes never leave Steve’s form. Not one your friends are chanting for you to chug down the tequila, not when your mind is hazy, not when you’re in the water, laughing as you and Wanda struggle to stay upright, not when you take his hand and you fall back into the water.

Not when you ask him to kiss you. Not when you tell him to take you to bed. And not when he’s touching you so softly, so tenderly and so—so lovingly that all you can do is cry out his name as you mold to his body and become one.

Love is difficult; love is hard.

But he was right.

Love can be so much more; and you don’t regret taking your chance on Steve. You never will.

epilogue

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #reader inserrt #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic

[therainroguefanfiction]

🎃 Frightful October Act V, #13 ~ Urbex (Haechan / Donghyuck Lee)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Supernatural, AU, Fluff, Friendship, Halloween

Word Count: 3,259

Pairing: Reader x Haechan

World: NCT

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

It was the night of Halloween and you had resolved yourself to spending the night reading as many horror books as you could while munching on your favorite snacks. You had been invited to a party to ring in the holiday, but partying wasn’t really something that interested you.

You stepped out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand when the doorbell rang. Confused, you glanced at the clock above the fireplace. It was eight-thirty. ‘Who could that be?’ you wondered, setting the bowl down on the coffee table next to your book. You checked the peephole before pulling the door open. “Haechan? What are you doing here?”

Your best friend smiled, his hands behind his back.

“I thought you went to the party,” you shifted, crossing your arms over your chest as the cool October air hit your skin.

“Nah, it wouldn’t be fun without my bestie!”

You raised a brow, knowing something was up. Normally, he would have pushed himself inside already, plus he had no problems going to the party without you last year. “What is it, Haechan?”

“Ah, well…” he gave you a sheepish smile. “Mark hyung and the others didn’t want to go, either. Chenle thought it would be fun to do some urban exploring – he’s been watching a lot of those videos online lately.”

“Okay… and what does that have to do with me?” You were getting a bad feeling.

“I may or may not have promised them that you would be willing to come with us?”

“I’m sorry, you what?”

“I’m sorry!” he bowed, holding his hands together above his head. “You’re skilled in martial arts, so you being around makes everyone feel safer! It was the only way the others would agree to come.”

“Haechan – ”

“Please!”

You frowned, glancing over your shoulder at your horror book waiting to be read and the popcorn that was now probably cold. You looked back at Haechan’s pleading face, and back again to your snack. With a heavy, defeated sigh, you turned back to your best friend, who took the sound as a sign of compliance.

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you out the door. You barely had enough time to pull the door closed behind you. The cold air nipped at your skin and you whined, ‘He didn’t even give me time to grab my jacket!’

The rest of the group was waiting down the street at Jaemin’s house, loitering around Mark’s car. After playing a quick rock-paper-scissors tournament to determine who would sit where, everyone piled into the car. Jeno won but allowed you to sit upfront in his place. Jaemin, Jeno, and Jisung sat in the back, with Chenle, Renjun, and Haechan sitting across their laps. Not the safest thing to do, but everyone trusted Mark’s safe driving.

The destination Chenle had chosen was Oakmeadow Estates, an abandoned gated community on the outskirts of town. No one knew why, but the place had been completely abandoned five years ago and the city hadn’t made any moves to do anything with it.

Mark pulled up to the metal gate and you stepped out of the car, Haechan following close behind. The gate was rusted, vines curled around the bars like a snake constricting its prey. It was on a track and had been previously opened enough to allow a person to slip through.

Your fingers wrapped around one of the bars at the front of the gate. Haechan squeezed into the opening and the two of you started to push it. It creaked and moaned, and it took some effort to unstick before it finally started to slide along the track. Mark pulled the car through and you pushed it back to its original position. That way, if anyone drove by they wouldn’t notice anything amiss.

Haechan held the passenger side door open for you and you thanked him, climbing back into the car. He grinned, plopping onto your lap before closing the door. You huffed but said nothing. Mark followed the road to the back of the estates, which was surrounded by towering spruce trees. There was no power there anymore, the streets illuminated only by the full moon that hung above and headlights of the car.

He parked in a cul-de-sac and everyone hesitantly shuffled out of the car.

A gust of wind ruffled the trees, making you shiver as you folded your arms tightly, hands in the warmth of your armpits. ‘I think it’s getting colder. And man is this place cree-py,’

Haechan frowned, shrugging his jacket off before holding it out to you. “Here, wear this. Sorry I didn’t give you a chance to grab yours.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, taking it from his hands.

He nodded. “This sweater is thick, so don’t worry!”

With a smile, you slipped your arms into the jacket, sighing in content at the warmth it provided. It smelled like him, which was a plus in your eyes.

Mark unlocked the trunk and everyone gathered around as he handed out flashlights and walkie talkies.

You whistled. “You really came prepared, huh?”

“You can never be too prepared,” he smiled.

“Are we splitting up, then?” You asked, clipping the walkie talkie to the pocket of your pants.

Mark hesitated before nodding. “We’re going to split up into two groups.” He shuffled around in the black bag before pulling out a handful of thin sticks. “Long sticks on one team, and short sticks on the other.”

The group took turns taking a stick and hiding them. On the count of three, everyone revealed their stick, everyone’s eyes immediately snapping to your long stick before checking theirs.

“Yes!” Haechan cheered, throwing his arms around you. Jisung and Jeno high-fived before doing the same. The other team didn’t look pleased.

Mark made everyone test their walkie talkie and flashlight. “Okay, we’re all set. Don’t stray too far from the car, and don’t wander off on your own. Stay alert and on your guard.”

You headed toward the two-story house in the middle, your shoes crunching as they followed the gravel path. The grass was overgrown, reaching your knees as it tilted over the path like hungry hands. Jeno took the lead, slowly pushing the door open and shining his flashlight inside.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” he called, pausing to listen for a response. “We’re just exploring, we mean no harm.” The house remained silent so he stepped inside.

Everything was covered in dust an inch thick, kicked up into the air as everyone entered the house. On the left was an archway leading into the living room. You shined your flashlight, the beam ghosting over the pictures hanging on the walls. They all seemed like normal photographs except for one, sitting in the middle of the wall above the fireplace. It was hanging lopsided, like many of its brethren, the glass broken in a single line from the top corner to the bottom.

The photograph itself was faded and old, a rustic orange in color. A woman sat straight in a wooden chair, her hair pulled taut into a bun that sat on top of her head. In her lap was a young child, maybe five years old, wearing a white dress. She looked terrified.

Something about the photo made you feel uneasy as a chill slid down your spine. It seemed like the girl’s face was moving, and you leaned closer, squinting in the darkness. Her face flashed before turning into a swirling void of black like someone had taken a ballpoint pen and circled it a dozen times. You blinked rapidly, brow furrowed. The girl’s face was normal again. ‘I guess the darkness is playing tricks on my mind…’

Shaking your head, you stepped back into the entryway, following Jisung up the rickety stairs. They creaked under your weight and the railing was loose, shifting when you put your hand on it. He pushed open the door directly across from the stairs – it was a small bathroom. You stepped past him, pushing open the next door.

It was a bedroom, stripped down and nearly bare. The wallpaper was faded, the flower pattern barely visible as it peeled and yellowed in various places. The queen-sized bedframe was missing one of its legs and the dressed had been stripped of all its drawers. The wood was splintered as if the drawers had been removed with force.

Jisung stepped inside and you headed to the next room. It was also a bedroom but looked more worn down than the first. The springs on the single bedframe were sticking up like a bed of bloodthirsty nails. The carpet was stained a sickly shade of yellow-green and the wallpaper had been ripped from the walls. It looked like one of those stickers stores put on their product, and then you try to peel it off, half of it gets stuck on.

You stepped farther into the room, glancing at the dresser across from the bedframe. The bottom drawer was pulled out a bit, so your finger wrapped around the handle and you tugged, pulling it open all the way. The bottom of the drawer had been removed. You pushed it closed again, the handle rattling as you did so. Against the back wall was a long mirror, pieces of the glass missing. You stepped closer, inspecting the glass. Words had been etched into it, but it was too dark to see. When you pointed the light at it, it became too bright to make out the words.

A dark shadow moved behind you, reflected in the bottom of the mirror, followed by a soft bang, as if something had been knocked over. You whirled around, training the light where you thought the sound had come from. Your heart picked up speed as you slowly approached the closet door, reaching your hand up. You hesitated, fingers brushing against the metal. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before wrapping your fingers around the handle.

A scream ripped through the air, sending a chill through your body. You abandoned the closet and rushed down the stairs, trying not to trip. Haechan was at the bottom of the stairs, breathing heavy with his eyes wide open. Jeno was kneeling beside him, flashlight aimed at the ceiling, the light shining off the chandelier.

“What happened?” you demanded, kneeling on his other side and gently grasping his shoulder. His eyes met yours, a mixture of embarrassment and fear swirling in their depths.

He offered you a sheepish smile. “Something landed on my head. I thought something grabbed me…”

A squeaking pulled your attention to the ceiling where a small bat was flying in and out of the beam of light as it tried to escape. You sighed in relief, standing up and offering him your hand. He gladly accepted, sliding his hand into your own. Once he was on his feet, he kept a tight grip on your hand.

You gave it a tug as you turned toward the stairs. “Come on, I wanna finish exploring upstairs,” he followed close behind, lacing his fingers with your own. You headed straight for the second bedroom but stopped short when your light fell on the closet door, which was now open.

Haechan walked into you, not expecting the sudden stop. “What’s wrong?”

Your brow furrowed. Had you opened it in your haste to leave the room? Your hand had been around the handle, but you never turned it. Or maybe you did and just didn’t realize it. Cautiously, you walked around the bed, scanning the area with the flashlight. You pushed the door shut, testing to see if it would spring open on its own. It didn’t.

Haechan frowned at you. “Did you find anything?”

“I heard a sound in this closet,” you explained. “You screamed before I could open it…”

He seemed to realize what you were getting at and swallowed. “Who opened it, then?”

“Maybe… it was Jisung?” you questioned, glancing at him. “He was up here with me.”

“Let’s get out of here, I don’t like this.” He tugged you back toward the door and you followed him down the stairs, but you couldn’t help but look behind you at the open door. Something about that closet really unnerved you. “Jisung!”

The youngest of the group was nowhere to be found.

Jeno stepped out of the kitchen, looking at the two of you curiously. “Something wrong?”

“Where’s Jisung?”

“He went over to the other group.”

“Before or after Haechan screamed?” you asked.

“Before,” he frowned, looking between the two of you. “What’s going on?”

You and Haechan exchanged a look. If he had left before the scream, then there’s no way he could have messed with the closet. Was there someone hiding in the house and they were trying to scare you? Or was it something else, something sinister that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye? Your hair was beginning to stand on end and dread was pooling in your stomach.

“Let’s get ou – ” your words were cut short when you saw the look of terror on Jeno’s face. You followed his wide eyes and nearly dropped the flashlight. Standing at the top of the stairs was a shadowy figure, short in stature. It was too dark to make out any features – the only thing you could see were two bloodshot eyes staring directly at you. The three of you were frozen.

“Wh-What is that?!” Haechan whispered, gripping your arm.

Shakingly, you lifted the flashlight. The weak beam lit up its dark, sunken face. Blood dripped from where its hairline should be. Its mouth opened, showing off rotting teeth. A high-pitched scream ripped from its throat, threatening to pierce your eardrum.

“Run!” you ordered, shoving Haechan to get him moving. You brought up the rear, keeping your eyes on the creature so it wouldn’t be able to sneak up on you, slamming the door shut. The others came running over, asking what was happening and what the scream was. “No time to explain, get in the car!”

Mark fumbled to pull the keys from his pocket and everyone jumped in, slamming and locking the doors. As he pulled away, you glanced back at the house, seeing a dark figure standing in the upstairs window. “Crap, the gate!”

With your heart hammering against your ribcage, you jumped out of the car, jogging over to the gate. Jeno joined you and together, you tried to push the gate open. It started to move but then came to a dead stop with a loud groan.

“I think something’s blocking it,” Jeno breathed loudly, following the length of the gate as it sunk into the tall bushes. You followed close behind, keeping your eyes peeled and body alert. You held the bushes apart for him with some difficulty.

A chunk of broken brick had been shoved inside the track, blocking the gate from opening any farther. Jeno wrapped his fingers around it, trying to pry it free but it wouldn’t give an inch.

“I can’t get it.”

“Let me try,” you switched places, your fingers digging at the brick. Even with your monstrous strength, you couldn’t get it to budge. You glanced around, finding a thick stick lying on the ground. It wasn’t as thick as a branch, but you hoped it would hold up without breaking. “Let’s try this,” you said, doing your best to wedge the end of the stick under the brick.

The walkie talkie crackled before Mark’s voice came through, full of worry. “Are you guys okay? What’s going on?”

Jeno unclipped the walkie talkie from my waist as you wiggled the stick back and forth. “Yeah, the gate got stuck but we’ve almost got it.”

The stick snapped just as the brick rolled free of the track. You heaved a sigh of relief, exchanging a look with Jeno. Worry lingered in the back of your mind, though. It was obvious that the brick had been deliberately put there to stop the gate from opening, but by who? And why?

The two of you stepped back through the bushes and you glanced at the car. Everyone was watching the two of you, a mixture of relief and fear present on their faces. The gate moved easily now, sliding along the track with a whine.

The bushes rustled on the other side of the road and you tensed up.

“What was that?” Jeno whispered, stepping closer to you as his eyes scanned the darkness.

“It was probably just a squirrel or something,” you shakily breathed out, not entirely convinced by your own words.

A twig snapped behind you, right where the two of you had been just a few moments before. Red eyes shined through the inky blackness. You stared back. It felt like your body was paralyzed. Your legs wouldn’t move and your mind became hazy like a fog was entering your brain. The eyes seemed to speak to you, beckoning you forward.

Jeno grabbed your arm and tugged you roughly toward the car, breaking whatever trance you had been under. Before the door was even closed, he was yelling at Mark to floor the gas. The car ride back was silent as everyone reflected on their own personal experiences that night. No one wanted to talk about what they had seen and heard, scared that admitting it would make it real.

You and Haechan were the last ones to get dropped off and the two of you headed toward your house in silence. You stuck the key into the lock, pushing the door open and plopping onto the couch. You felt completely exhausted and just wanted to drink some hot chocolate and go to bed.

The clock read eleven-fifty-five. Had you really been gone that long? In some ways, it felt like you had only been there for an hour at most, but at the same time, it felt as if you had spent an eternity in that house.

Haechan fell beside you, his head falling onto your shoulder as his hand found yours, tugging it onto his lap. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s never talk about this night again.”

“Agreed.”

The walkie talkie in Haechan’s pocket crackled with static and he pulled it out with a furrowed brow, waiting for a voice to come through. You took it from his hand, pressing down the button. “Mark? Is that you?”

More static.

“Maybe the channel got changed,” Haechan suggested, taking it from your hand. He played with the knob until the static stopped. “There. See?” he held down the button. “Testing, testing, one two three. Markie hyung, can you hear me?”

The grandfather clock started to chime loudly, signaling the arrival of midnight.

The walkie talkie clicked as if someone was pressing the button and heavy breathing came through, following by a distorted voice, “Y̸̥͘ó̸̜ü̸̘ ̶̨̕w̷͚̒o̶̦͌n̵̢͝’̸̘̒t̸̞͂ ̸͔̀g̷̦͠e̴̗̾t̴̰͌ ̵̲̎ả̴̗w̴͕͋a̸̺͐y̸̛ͅ ̷͙̑n̸͎̕ḛ̷̎x̷͍̓t̸̼͊ ̵͍̚t̷̗͊ȋ̸̫m̸̝̏ë̸̦́.̷̠̍.”

Both of you froze as an icy chill settled over the room. With a gulp, you took the walkie talkie into the kitchen and dropped it in the sink. Haechan hung in the doorway, watching you curiously as you searched around the kitchen drawers until you found a meat mallet. You brought it down on the walkie talkie with a satisfying crunch before turning to Haechan.

“I say we spend the rest of the night hiding under the comforter and pretending this never happened.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he nodded.

And that’s exactly what the two of you did until the sun filtered through the window the next morning.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅�� ─────

#frightful october #halloween #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct imagines #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #writing #creative writing #writeblr #scenario #scenarios #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #reader insert #reader-insert #reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfics #kpop scenario #one shot #supernatural #au #alternate universe #fluff

[writethehousedown]

When the Sun Sets on Us: Chapter 3 (Scyvie) — Phryne

A/N: Hey y'all! I’m back with the third chapter of When the Sun Sets on Us, a beach town romance between hopeless romantic Scarlet and cynical about romance Yvie.

Last Chapter: Scarlet dumped five drinks and a plate of nachos on Yvie, so Yvie naturally agreed to a date with her.

This chapter: A classic boardwalk date.

Enjoy!

Scarlet was perched on the railing outside the restaurant, her hands gripping the bar as her feet swung, back and forth, back and forth, like a metronome. When Yvie saw her, all clad in her denim skirt and milky white crop top, staring off at the ocean in the distance as though she were transfixed, she felt her beating heart increase its tempo, as though it were intent on keeping time with Scarlet.

“Yvie!” Scarlet called out, hopping off the railing, running toward her. It was as though she had snapped out of her spell, like she sensed Yvie’s presence a few feet away. She pulled Yvie into a hug, her hands flush against Yvie’s back, before pulling away, leaving behind some kind of sun-kissed, champagne-tinged scent wafting in the air, something Yvie couldn’t quite place but found herself intoxicated by, nonetheless.

No, Yvie was not going to allow herself to be consumed by the all-consuming Scarlet. She had decided on this previously, more specifically, the moment Scarlet had suggested the date and Yvie agreed. She had also reinforced the notion that she was under no circumstances going to develop deep feelings for Scarlet every moment after — while walking back to the motel, while showering, while pouring over outfits to wear on the date, while begging her brain to please, for the love of god, let her think about anything besides being close enough to Scarlet to count each little sun-spot that graced her face and arms and hands and chest.

“Yvie?” Scarlet looked perplexed, dropping her arms back to her sides.

“Oh, yes, hi.” Yvie blinked, focusing her vision back on the Scarlet right in front of her, shooing away her intrusive thoughts.

“I asked how you are, silly.” Scarlet poked Yvie’s arm, the spot feeling as though it were consistently touched, consistently warm, even when Scarlet pulled away.

“Sorry, yeah.” Yvie shook it off. “I’m good, how are you?”

It was simply a date. And a date did not require real, deep feelings, Yvie reminded herself. She could simply have fun with Scarlet, enjoy their time together, and then part ways afterward. She didn’t have to get too deep, become lost in her silken little drawl as she described sneaking out of work early to take a shower because she smelled like french fries, how she saw a stray cat wandering out from under her porch when she came home. She didn’t have to indulge her impulse to tell Scarlet about the alley cats behind her apartment, paint her a verbal picture of her home, each brush stroke within it. Hell, they didn’t even have to hold hands. In fact, Yvie decided that they would not do romantic, deep-feelings-date things, like hold hands, for example.

Scarlet took Yvie’s hand, their palms clasped and their thumbs crossed.

Shit.

“Okay, so I’m gonna give you, like, the classic boardwalk experience,” Scarlet said, tugging Yvie to start walking with her. “Come on.”

Scarlet led Yvie away, the two walking steadily, leisurely, as Scarlet unclasped their hands, only to weave their fingers back together, the two interlocked, fingers laced tight. She looked up at Yvie.

Oh god. Not a minute into the date and they’re already walking hand in hand. She’s already fixated on the gentle swing of their connected arms between them. Her skin already prickles as Scarlet’s shoulder brushes against her arm, and she’s so keenly aware of the shorter woman next to her, connected to her, the physicality of moving and walking together, that she barely knows how her legs are still moving while her brain is this overwhelmed.  

The Scarlet pulled away. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

It felt like a cold burn, though Yvie had to be sure she brought it on herself, knowing the panic that must have covered her face, knowing just how visible she was with her feelings no matter how hard she tried to mask them.

Yvie gulped, struck with the inexplicable feeling that she was in trouble with herself. “No, it’s okay.” Yvie let out a long-held breath before taking Scarlet’s hand, their fingers interwoven again, Yvie feeling herself return to what now felt less like panic and more like a natural, sustainable state.

It wouldn’t be too bad to hold hands, Yvie supposed, her thumb wiggling out to rest on top of Scarlet’s. It was nothing more than holding hands.

The sun was dimming, dusting the sky and the sea in a battered grey, the neon lights for psychics, name on rice, and hermit crabs intermittently flicking on for the night.

“So,” Yvie began, feeling Scarlet look up to watch her speak, a thrilling intimacy. “What’s it like to live here? You know, like you live where people vacation. That’s wild.”

“I guess,” Scarlet said with a shrug. “I’m just from here, so I barely even notice it.”

Yvie’s fingers gripped Scarlet’s knuckles. They passed a stand selling fried desserts, just turning on their lights. “It’s just like whenever I visit somewhere, I always wonder about the people who live there for real, you know? It’s like I’m just passing by and you’re here all the time.” Yvie flattened her lip. “I guess it would be fun? I don’t know it’s like I’m just passing in a place you’ve had your whole life.”

Scarlet turned away, the tension between their arms growing as Yvie felt further apart. Then Scarlet laughed.

“Wow, heavy first date topics.” She continued staring off, right over the edge of the pier. “Like thoughts about living in a temporary place for most people you meet, bonus points for discussing the idea of emotional permanency. Go,” Scarlet imitated, looking back up at Yvie and cracking a smile.

“Oh my god,” Yvie groaned. “Do I really sound that pretentious?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s cute,” Scarlet reassured.

“So, you’re saying I do.” Yvie looked back down at her, only finding herself struck by the teasing smile of the girl who just called her cute. She held the word in her lungs like air.

Yvie tugged at her hand, needlessly pulling Scarlet closer, their elbows knocking together. They walked in silence for a moment.

“Yeah, it’s only a little fun to live here,” Scarlet started, staring down at the boards. “Like everything’s only open for a few months a year. And then it’s dead. Honestly, this is the first time I’ve been, like, on the boardwalk outside of work in at least two summers.” Scarlet stole a glance up at Yvie, the corner of her lip curling, letting Yvie know she caught her staring. “I almost forgot it was fun.”

Scarlet let out a slow, deflating laugh, her face falling on the exhale. “But yeah, it’s weird to live here. It’s like everyone else is coming and going as they please and you can’t, like you’re stuck here. It’s not a bad place to be stuck in, don’t get me wrong.” A sigh. “It’s just I think I’d rather be stuck somewhere else, somewhere bigger and brighter. I’d love to be in a city, under a billion lights, you know?” Scarlet looked up again.

Yvie nodded. “That makes sense. Just being permanent in a way you don’t want to be.”

That was, of course, the shorthand understanding of the deepest, most desperate desire to get away and find yourself in a place you’d never like to leave, which Yvie felt creeping up on her with every step they took together. It was a feeling, much like the feeling of Scarlet’s touch, or the smell of Scarlet’s perfume, that had wrapped itself around Yvie. The feeling of being with someone who’s whole life was here, folded in these sands, fitted between the splintering boards. The feeling that Scarlet everywhere around her. It struck like a dizzying, brilliant light, and it remained.

***

“Oh my god, I didn’t know they still had that,” Scarlet called out, pulling Yvie toward a midway game with a childlike sense of wonder. It was the one where you had to throw ping pong balls into goldfish bowls filled with colored water.

“I used to be so, so good at this as a kid,” Scarlet elaborated. “I can’t believe they still have it. I was, like, too good at this game. I had them all lined up in their bowls on the kitchen counter.”

“Do you still have them?” Yvie had finally caught up with her, now standing next to Scarlet at the game. “Or are they all dead?” Yvie immediately kicked herself for mentioning a slew of dead fish.

She didn’t want a relationship, no. But she also didn’t want to become some brunch story Scarlet would later tell about the girl she went on a date with who didn’t want to hold her hand and also talked about her dead fish.

Scarlet laughed, digging in her purse, producing three folded ones. “Super dead. We made them, like a mass fish grave. My moms said they’d fertilize the geraniums.” She handed the money to the Carny before turning back to Yvie. “I think the little headstone I made is still in our garden. Also, I think the fish haunt me.”

Yvie felt her smile crinkling her eyes. She shook her head. “No way. You couldn’t have been good enough for a mass grave.”

“Uh huh,” Scarlet whined, releasing Yvie’s hand to take the ping pong balls. “I’ll prove it.”

“Sure, babe.” Yvie snaked her hand around Scarlet, resting it on her bare waist, needing to feel the warmth of her skin once more.

Yvie let her eyes wander all around the tent, up at the strands of prizes hanging down from the ceiling, which under no circumstances she was going to accept, should Scarlet actually be exceptional at this game. Leaving with one of those big ass panda bears, a stuffed banana with a gorilla wrapped around it, or that blow up alien thing, would be far too much. Far too close to real date, real relationship territory. And frankly, she didn’t want a physical reminder of how she felt looking at the paling sky, the feathering neon light from the rides in the distance. A reminder of how she let herself indulge in the unequivocal closeness of touch, the way her left hand fingered with the sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of her denim skirt, how it felt soothing to simply touch.

“I won!” Scarlet tore her from her thoughts. “I told you. I absolutely told you!”

Scarlet did in fact have three ping pong balls in a row, floating in blue, purple, and another color she didn’t quite catch before Scarlet pulled Yvie in for a hug, her arms wrapped around Yvie’s neck, rising up on her tip-toes to whisper that spine chilling whisper, “I told you so,” right in Yvie’s ear.

Yvie held Scarlet out in front of her, her hands tighter than before on her waist as Scarlet came back down, feet flat on the ground, and Yvie desperately tried to come back down from Scarlet’s whiny, breathy lilt in her ear, desperately tried not to fixate on the warmth spreading through her core. She wouldn’t dare think about that happening again.

“C’mon, we gotta go get your fish,” Scarlet said, pulling Yvie’s hand off her waist and leading her over to the prizes.

“My fish?”

Yvie, who now held a fish in her right hand, whom Scarlet named F. Scott Fishgerald, reasoned that the fish was not a stuffed animal, so she was not in real date territory. The fish was, however, a living, breathing little bastard that she now had to take care of, because Scarlet named it and gave it to her, bonding Yvie to the fish.

Yvie looked down at the fish, who was bubbling and taunting her, reminding her that she now had a gift from Scarlet, a thing to take home and look at and remember the now inky night and its fluorescent glow.

***

Yvie shook herself out of it, spotting a cluttered storefront, canvasses spilling out of the entrance and into the concrete.

“I wanna go check that out,” Yvie glanced over at Scarlet, pointing toward the storefront.

“Ooh yes yes,” Scarlet said, so easily excitable.  “You’re in for such a treat, it’s all, like, garbage.”

“Garbage, babe?” Yvie asked.

A flush spread across Scarlet’s cheeks. Yvie ignored her impulse to brush her knuckle across Scarlet’s cheek, feel the heat rising off of her skin, warming Yvie from the outside in.

Yvie really had to stop accidentally calling Scarlet babe if she wanted to keep her feelings casual and her mind off of how cute Scarlet looked when she blushed.

Scarlet turned to the side to make it through the cluttered door, leading Yvie through the narrow walkways of the store, all lined with cheap beach: shorelines of only one shade of beige, white cresting waves from the shoreline all the way back; neon flip-flops that said live, laugh, love; imitation vintage Coca Cola advertisements printed on thin metal sheets; a display of pet rocks; a painting of a lonely red tulip in a sea of black and white tulips.

Scarlet let go of Yvie’s hand and spread her arms out wide, touching claustrophobic stacks of canvases on either side of her.

“Garbage!” She announced.

Yvie swallowed, immediately regretting this stop, feeling the paintings closing in on her, her mind wandering off to her art lessons, her professors, her paintings back home. It all made the air feel thick, viscous, something she couldn’t breathe.

“What’s going on?” Scarlet lowered her arms, looking Yvie dead in the eye, as though she already knew what the problem was but needed Yvie to confirm it. “Aren’t you enjoying the garbage?”

If she could help it, she wouldn’t laugh. But Yvie, of course, couldn’t help it.

“This is my future,” Yvie looked around the store once more, now noticing the paint splattered Pollock imitations; the singular umbrella and beach ball canvases; a stack of magnets that doubled as bottle openers. She gripped the fish tighter. “This is it. I’m gonna finish school and have nothing to do with my life after that. And if I want to do something with my art degree, I’m gonna end up making this knock off bullshit. And if I don’t, I wasted all my time and money.”

“Well that’s not true,” Scarlet replied, her voice soft, her tone firm. “I’m sure the people who make and buy this done even know it’s garbage. Like they’re people who are really excited to buy a picture of Marilyn Monroe with her skirt blown up, a puka shell necklace, and a pet rock, all in the same place.” Scarlet lent her a sincere smile, leaning against a table full of striped canvases. “You know it’s garbage because you do real art.”

“How do you know I do real art?”

“Because you’re always observing shit and you hate Photoshop.” Scarlet laughed, giving Yvie a nudge.

Yvie settled against the table as well. “Wanting to do real art doesn’t mean I’m going to do it.”

Scarlet tilted her head toward Yvie, looking perplexed. “It absolutely does mean you’ll do it.” She placed her hand on Yvie’s thigh, scooching closer so their arms were pressed together.

“You’re the only one who decides what you’re going to do. If you don’t want to do some capitalist garbage art, then don’t do some capitalist garbage art. You’re the only one who has control over you.”

Yvie laid her head on Scarlet’s shoulder, finding her voice mild and even, steadying, affirming.

Scarlet continued. “So, if you’re going to do it, you know, be a real artist, be happy, the only person who’s going to stop you is yourself.”

Yvie inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled out her mouth, tilting her head up to steal a look at Scarlet, whose eyes were closed, her lips gently parted.

Scarlet was a warm soul, Yvie decided.

She laid her hand on top of where Scarlet’s lay.

She could have feelings for her, if only she were prepared for her heart to break so dearly.

***

Upon leaving the store, Scarlet announced that ice cream had to be eaten after a depressing conversation, on the basis of the full moon tomorrow and also her soul. Yvie could not, and did not want to argue with that reasoning, mostly because she found that reasoning exceptionally cute, especially as Scarlet blabbered on about the time she tried to make ice cream at home with her roommate. The two of them tossed the bag of cream, vanilla, ice, and rock salt back and forth until Scarlet threw the bag far too hard against the decorative swordfish — the one that came with the house and was apparently not budging from the wall — which caused the bag to explode.

Yvie nodded along, entering the store as Scarlet opened the door for her. It was endearing, how Scarlet went into a silly story that made her look foolish in the end, probably knowing how it would pull Yvie’s mood a few shades lighter than it was before.

“What do you think you’re getting?” Scarlet came up behind Yvie, peering over her shoulder to see which flavor she was looking at.

“Orange pineapple,” Yvie muttered, still staring at the ice cream in front of her, as though she were trying to figure it out. “Such a weird flavor.”

Scarlet hummed in agreement, “I think I’m gonna get it. Wanna split it?”

Yvie turned back to look at Scarlet, her face only inches away from hers, her heartbeat growing livelier and livelier at the proximity. Close enough that she could see the slight curl of Scarlet’s eyelashes. Close enough to know they shared the same air, same breath. Close enough to notice Scarlet’s lip gloss fading away, leaving behind only a few bits of glitter, sparkling under the fluorescents. In less than a few careless inches, she could—

“Yeah, uh, definitely.” Yvie’s words stumbled. “Let’s split it.”

She shifted the goldfish to her other hand. She was not going to kiss Scarlet. That, she decided, was a point from which she’d never return. She’d indulged her feelings against her logic, but that, that she would not do.

They sat together on a bench outside the shop, Scarlet curling her legs underneath herself, leaning in closer to Yvie, taking up her spoon.

“How is it?” Scarlet asked, holding the cup steady with one hand, scooping a bit of ice cream out with the other.

“It doesn’t really taste like orange or pineapple, it just tastes like orange,” Yvie replied, dipping in again, finding it hard to ignore the way Scarlet was practically sat in her lap, the innocent intimacy of sharing.

Scarlet went in for another spoonful. “I thought you said it doesn’t taste like orange thought.”

Yvie laughed at herself, lightly shoving Scarlet’s shoulder with her own. “I meant orange, like the color.”

“Honestly, I feel like orange should have different names,” Scarlet pondered. She licked off her spoon, pulling it out of her mouth with a pop. “Like, orange the color and orange the fruit should fight to see what’s going to be the alpha orange. Because right now I’m looking like an idiot in front of a pretty girl, just because orange and orange are the same word.”

Yvie held her spoon in place, trying to interpret what Scarlet just said, but falling short. All she could offer was a smile and a promise to herself that she’d spend all her time before bed turning those words over in her head: being addressed as pretty girl and the beautiful girl who’d spoken it.

***

Yvie handed F. Scott Fishgerald to a child, who was upset over losing the water gun race, who was worked up over not receiving a prize.

“We really are a couple of nice lesbians, huh?” Yvie chuckled, “You win a fish, we show the fish a good time, then the fish goes to bring joy to a child.”

Scarlet snorted, taking Yvie’s hand and leading her toward the Ferris wheel, which she insisted was absolutely necessary for a perfect summer date, a phrase that made Yvie bubble up inside the more she heard it and the longer she internalized it.  

“Please, you were probably gonna kill that thing anyway.”

Yvie held her hand to her chest, scandalized. “Excuse you, Scarlet? My most prized possession? F. Scott Fishgerald was going to die of natural causes in his sleep, surrounded by those he loved.”

Scarlet was overcome with laughter, bumping into a couple of signs as they entered the line for the Ferris wheel, Yvie steering her through the line.

“Like you were going to surround that fish on his deathbed.” Scarlet quirked a brow.

Yvie snorted. “Like that fish loved me.”  

The line moved quickly, much quicker than expected. Within minutes, Yvie found herself sitting next to Scarlet in the cart. Scarlet gripped the lap bar eagerly as they ascended, inching ever upward and ever closer to Yvie, until they were suspended above the blackened ocean and Scarlet’s head lay on Yvie’s shoulder.

“I feel very small,” Scarlet spoke against Yvie’s shoulder, nuzzling herself into Yvie’s faded t-shirt.

“I think it’s hard not to, Scar.” Yvie inhaled deeply, letting the air fill her lungs fully, clearly, before exhaling, if for nothing but to feel the fullness, the reminder that she was very little more than air.

She peered down at Scarlet, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. She brushed Scarlet’s hair out of her face, her fingers slowly brushing over Scarlet’s cheek. She took her time, as though it were a new land to explore, to cherish.

Soft skin. Sparkling perfume. Pouting lips. Open heart. Eager eyes. Silken voice. Warm soul.

And the curve of her cheek.

Yvie found herself disinterested in the ocean below them. The slightness of the waves could not hold her gaze like the slightness with which Scarlet looked up at Yvie and said, “the stars are out. You look to your right and you’ll see them.”

But Yvie did not turn her head to see the stars. She wouldn’t release herself from the vision of Scarlet lit by the bulbs that dotted the outside of the Ferris wheel. The light caught on her cheek. The tip of her nose. Her collarbone. Her jaw.

Above the world, all that is worldly, her worldly self, there was only Scarlet caught in the afterglow of neon.

Yvie brushed her thumb across Scarlet’s jaw before tilting Scarlet up to meet her gaze.

Scarlet’s mouth opens, her eyes blown out.

“Scarlet, I…” Yvie trails off, as though she had something to say. She had nothing to say. She had run out of words. She found herself without excuses, stipulations, or reason. She found herself leaning in closer. Their foreheads met. “Scarlet—”

“Please,” Scarlet exhaled, her hot breath against Yvie’s lips.

Christ.

Yvie inched forward, capturing Scarlet’s still open lips in her own, resigning that she will never find a word to counter a please spoken like a revelation

#rpdr fanfiction #scyvie #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #silky nutmeg ganache #nina west #when the sun sets on us #phryne #beach au #lesbian au #concrit welcome #summer lovin' 2020 #day 3: ice cream

[cutelipsonaboy]

Hi, i was wondering if you could write a Elliot x Reader imagine where Elliot goes to see Krista and he tells her how much he misses you, since you are away on a business trip, and one night he gets really lonely and gets upset but luckily its the night you come back and you find him crying so you comfort him. Thank you!!!

What a sweet idea, hope you like the read xx

Y/N = your name

title: The Silence

genre: angst

words: 2229

I’ve been seeingKrista for a long time now; sometimes out of choice, most of the time mandatory.She’s managed to get a lot of things out of me over the years that, until thatpoint, I fully intended on taking to the grave. We’ve spoken in depth about my drughabits, abhorrent thoughts surrounding world corruption, hell, even the factthat I see my dead father every now and again, and she’s never once made mefeel like I was doing something inherently wrong. That’s not to say she hasn’t triedto change me; we’ve had our fair share of fights, but I never hold any of itagainst her because I can recognize the toxicity of all those things. It’s herjob, after all, to guide me in the right mental path; I’m just stubborn. I knowthat. What I didn’t expect, however, was to ever be in the position I’m in now,talking about this. Krista puts her hands neatly in her lap and almosthesitates before she speaks.

“Elliot, I’m worriedthat you’ve become a bit emotionally dependent on (Y/N).”

“What’s thatsupposed to mean?” I ask. It comes out a lot more aggressive than I intend, butthat’s purely because I’m embarrassed. Me? Dependent? Krista purses her lips asthough she’s about to say something she knows is going to upset me. I’velearned to chart her facial expressions by this point.

“She’s been gonefor six days now, correct?” I nod but I don’t look at her. “And you called mehere for an emergency appointment. Elliot, I thought something tragic might’vehappened.”

“I’m allowed tomiss her.” I mumble through dry lips. She’s right though. I’ve never seenKrista on a day other than when I was scheduled to. But I didn’t know who elseto go to.

“I know that. Ofcourse you are.”

“Shouldn’t you behappy I’m not alone anymore?”

“Well, it’s notreally about that, is it? Of course I’m happy for you, Elliot. But you justsaid–”

“I know what Isaid.” A fraught silence. I can feel myself forming walls around my mind toavoid the anguish that inevitably follows vulnerability.

“Look, I’m yourtherapist. I have to show my concern when a patient says something like ‘I’mgoing to kill myself if she doesn’t come home soon.” I look away from her andstare at an unidentifiable stain on the wall to keep myself from biting my lipsraw. “Elliot, what are you thinking about?”

It’s obvious,isn’t it? (Y/N). Her smell. The way she holds me into her chest for hours withoutspeaking because she knows I just don’t have the words sometimes. How much Ihate that I need it. The silence,since she’s been gone.

“Nothing.” I say.Krista frowns. She knows I’ve already initiated emergency shutdown in my brain.

“Perhaps yourreactions are a result of something deeper, Elliot.”

“Never mind,Krista. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’m not going to kill myself, I wasjust…kidding.” Some joke. I snatch up my backpack and stand up from the chairbefore she can even react.

“Maybe if you talkabout how you’re feeling I can understand a little more. Take a seat, Elliot. I’mno stranger.” She’s right. I wonder if her masters in psychology has given herthe ability to smell out when her patients want to say more but are afraid to.I sit back down. “Why do you feel so anxious when (Y/N) isn’t around?” Thewords are begging to pour out of my mouth but I’ve got it on latch. “Go ahead,start small.”

“When I’m aroundpeople I still feel… alone. Like nobody can hear me.”

“Why do you feellike no one can hear you?” She crosses one leg over another and leans back intoher chair.

“Because, I don’ttalk.”

“What do you mean?”This is hard. I look at Krista’s face and I wonder if I’m just another patientto her. I wonder if she really wants to help me or if it’s all for a paycheck.The words trickle slowly. If not for her, for me.

“I mean of course Italk but… it feels like my mind isconstantly running. Like a million things are sprinting around and bouncing offthe inside of my skull and I can’t get any of them out.”

“You are a deepthinker, Elliot. That’s something I’ve learned about you. You’re alwaysthinking, and while that’s not a bad thing, it’s healthy to take a pause oncein a while to breathe.”

“It feels like Ican’t breathe sometimes. But (Y/N), she can hear me. Even when I don’t talk.”For some reason, this pulls a smile out of the corner of Krista’s lips.

“What does she do?”She asks. I run my hands through my hair a few times.

“I don’t know. Idon’t know why she cares. But she does.”

“Everyone deservesto be cared about.” What a completely delusional statement. Not me. Not afterthe things I’ve done. “And she’s not the only one, Elliot. You are not alonejust because she isn’t here. Have you guys been talking?”

“Yeah, kind of. I don’treally like talking on the phone but I’ve been calling just to hear her voice.”

“Well, maybe youshould consider calling her whenever you’re having a bout of anxiety. Thatmight help ease it a little bit, at least until she’s home.”

“She didn’t pickup any of my calls today.” The words come out dryly.

“She is away onbusiness. Have you considered the fact that she’s just been busy?”

“It went straightto voicemail every time. It’s been hours and she hasn’t said a word.”

“I understand howeasy it is for the mind to go immediately into the worst-case-scenario, but that’swhere you have to reason with yourself. If she’s that special to you then you haveto understand she’s most likely not ignoring you, Elliot.”

“She always picksup my calls.” I’m getting more insistent because Krista doesn’t seem to get it.“What if something happened to her? How the fuck would I find out if she’sacross the country in Seattle? She could be dead…or…” I have to take a momentto catch myself. A horrible, familiar feeling washes over my chest and spreadsdeeper into my body. “Or she could be fine.”

“Exactly.”

“And she’s justrealized she doesn’t need me.” This makes Krista frown again, but I couldn’tcare less. I feel like the weight of the world has settled itself on my throat.

“Jumping to conclusions like that is only going totear you apart, Elliot. You have to learn how to reason with the voice in yourhead that tells y-“ I don’t even let her finish. I grab my backpack and headout the door with my head ducked down. Krista doesn’t call after me.

My apartment is inshambles when I walk in; not that it was any different with (Y/N) here, but atleast she made the mess feel like home. I start picking up some of the clothesoff the floor and run across one of her Sonic Youth t-shirts I’ve been sleepingwith. I press it into my face and take a long inhale to scrounge what I can ofher smell.

It’s funny howfast things can change, even after long periods of stagnant routine. A year agoI was living here alone. The only people who ever visit me are Darlene and Angela,and even that is a rare occurrence. Loneliness owned a large part of me. Itnestled itself into a deep, dark crevice of my mind that I never kept an eyeon, and it grew. After I met (Y/N), it was still there; reared its ugly headwhenever she was asleep before me, or when she got home late. But all thatmattered was when she silenced it. As soon as her eyes would open, as soon asshe walked in through the door and kissed me, I forgot all about it. Lonelinesslost its power to her.

But now she’sgone. I slide my phone from the pocket of my jeans and desperately try callingher again. The picture I have for her caller ID pops up on my screen. It’s one ofher kissing me on the cheek on Valentines Day and I almost look content. Thefirst Valentines day I ever spent with someone else. How could a picture thathas so many happy memories tied to it, bring so much grief? The voicemailrecording answers and something comes over me that is even worse than the loneliness.It almost feels like anger, but darker. Loss, maybe. Mistrust. My heart feelslike its fighting to come out of my chest. Just like that, she’d decided toabandon me just like everyone else. Why did I ever think it would be anydifferent?

I flip the table overin a fit of blind rage and all of its contents go flying across the room.Flipper whines at my feet, afraid of what’s happening. I’m afraid too, so I can’toffer her any condolences. I storm into the bathroom and stare at myself,buggy-eyed. What looks back at me is repulsive, naïve, undeserving. I take thehairbrush (Y/N) left on my sink and throw it at myself, smashing the mirrorinto fragments but I can still see this gaunt, pale face through it all. Ipunch the mirror again until it splinters so much I become unrecognizable. Isit my fault? How could I have not learned by this point that good things willnever stay by the side of someone as miserable as me?

When my ears stop ringingI can hear Flipper barking frantically in the other room. I wash my hands ofthe blood and lean on the reddened sink as I chew the inside of my mouth,trying to calm down. It’s alright, I’ve been alone, I can learn to be aloneagain. Maybe loneliness is all that I have. It’s safe, at least, and consistent.I close the bathroom door behind me so Flipper doesn’t cut herself on theglass. She won’t stop crying. Her whole body jumps every time she yelps. The noisejust adds to the chaos in my mind.

“Flipper!” I snatchher up in my arms and realize the door is being knocked on rigorously. I hadn’teven heard it from the bathroom. I pet Flipper a few times and place her backon the ground where she continues to bark. Flashbacks of 5/9 and the chaos thatensued wash over me; the danger, the loss. Dark Army? FBI? Why would theybother knocking?

Suddenly theknocking stops and I realize I’ve been standing in the middle of my apartmentstaring at the door. The doorknob begins to jiggle and I fear that it could beanyone. Slowly my feet slide towards the door. I think about grabbing a knifejust in case.

“Elliot!” The doorswings open and (Y/N) drops her bags to the floor. “I almost didn’t think youwere home! Why didn’t you answer?” My jaw drops open and releases an exhalethat purges whatever feelings of grief I had just conjured. “Wow… what happenedin here? You have a big rager when I was gone?” She points towards the table I knockedover. Despite the mess, her face gleams with excitement to see me and her voiceechoes like a familiar tune over all the madness in my head. I run over to herand wrap her in an embrace so tight, she laughs.

“What are youdoing here?” I can’t ask her soon enough.

“I came home earlyto surprise you! We finished a few days early, and Seattle was a bore anyway.”(Y/N) kisses me and plops onto the bed. I feel like I’m in a dream and I’m notallowed to touch her. Her presence alone, a shining light in a desolate place. Istare at her and wonder how she always manages to catch me when my arms andlegs are hogtied and I’ve tossed myself into a hole. “Well? Come here! I need asnuggle after all that traveling!” She kicks off her sneakers and pulls her shirtover her head, patting the mattress beside her. I shuffle over without saying aword like a catatonic patient in a psych ward.

“I thought… youhad left me.” The words roll out of my mouth like lead balls.

“What in the worldare you talking about? I couldn’t wait to get out of that place. I’m sorry I missedyour calls, I was on the plane. And I wanted it to be a surprise, but I forgotyou hate those.” She laughs and it fills the room with color. I slide into thebed next to her and pull her into my chest. “I bought you some cool things fromSeattle though, wanna see ‘em?”

“No, not rightnow. Let’s just lay here.” I stroke the back of her head and soak in as much ofher as I can. She traces a finger up and down my back and I can feel the stressleaving me, all of it.

My questions areanswered through the silence. She is my angel.

#mr robot #mr robot fanfiction #mr robot fanfic #elliot x reader #elliot alderson imagine #elliot alderson x reader #reader x elliot alderson #elliot alderson fanfic #Elliot Alderson #rami malek x reader #rami malek imagine #reader x rami malek

[theangriestpea]

Mercy Killing

TW/CW: sexual assault mention, violence, trauma, victim blaming

A/N: You'll see victim blaming from both SP and Lav. Remember they are both teenagers that have never been in the situation before. Have likely never been taught how to handle this kind of situation either. While they both seem to think it is Lav's fault for what happened, I want to reiterate that that is not what I think. It is not her fault. It is never the victim's fault, I don't care what the circumstances are. 

Chapter Two: Ugliness

Lavender hurt. She hurt a lot. So much that Fangs practically carried her to her trailer once she was discharged. Lorraine had to help her get dressed and that was a slow process. She knew she’d need help putting clothes on, taking clothes off, hell even taking a bath. Luckily she figured she could ask Toni on the really rough days and just take some of the Oxy the doctor had prescribed her on days she was alone. FP let her know that he called her job to let them know that she’d been in an accident and the extent of her injuries. She had a doctor’s excuse as well for two weeks. The doctor even mentioned that if she didn’t feel healed up enough after that then he’d write her another one. That was just when her follow up appointment was.

“Alright Lavie, we have to go up the stairs.” Fangs said, easing her out of his truck. It was awkward as hell sitting between him and Sweet Pea, luckily she was small enough to fit between both broad shouldered boys. Lav groaned, the prospect sounding horrible. “Do I have to?” Sweet Pea rolled his eyes. “Would you rather I throw you over my shoulder?” Fangs asked in a fake sweet voice. “I have three broken ribs!” Lav bit back, “You’ll crack them even more!” Fangs laughed, “Which is why you need to go up there yourself. It’s four steps.” She looked up at the daunting set of stairs. “You’ll stay by my side…?” She heard Sweet Pea snort behind them. Lav looked over her shoulder to glare daggers at him. She looked more like an angry raccoon than a threat with her black eyes and swollen nose.

“Yes, I’ll be right here. I’ll even unlock the door for you.” Fangs said sweetly, she wondered briefly why he wasn’t named Sweet Pea instead. Sweet Pea was agitated. He tried to understand that she was in a lot of pain but he also didn’t get why she didn’t just work through it like any other Serpent would. He felt like she was fully taking advantage of Fangs’ kindness and that didn’t sit well with him. She had done nothing but whine since they got out of the hospital. Of course he always had a feeling she was an entitled princess, now he just had evidence of it. He clenched and unclenched his fists to keep from snapping at her.

Pea felt sorry for what had happened to her, he really did, but this was just too much. He dreaded the thought of being alone with her which he knew was going to happen eventually. They had agreed on shifts throughout the night although Fangs seemed reluctant to agree to it. Sweet Pea just knew that he had to help his mom take care of his little sister on the nights that she worked late. Tonight was going to be one of those nights. Lavender and Fangs made it up the stairs without much trouble. She had to stop to breathe through the ache of her bruised and cut thighs. The tension on the stitches she had on a few of the gashes there seemed to increase tenfold whenever she put weight on her legs. Worst of all she knew she couldn’t take anything for pain for another four hours. Fangs managed to get her inside and Sweet Pea reluctantly followed after them into the single wide. He’d never actually been inside before. The layout was similar to his own, which wasn’t surprising. There were only so many ways to arrange a small trailer.  He had seen the house she grew up in on the Northside. It was two-story, spacious. It was made a brick. Sweets didn’t know much but he knew that her mother had left, selling the house and taking the money to live elsewhere. Lav was forced to live with her father here on the Southside. This had been his trailer before he passed. Rhodes had been one hell of a Serpent. He taught Sweet Pea everything he knew about switchblades. Made him wonder why Lav didn’t have one on her when the Ghoulies attacked her. Come to think of it, he had never actually seen her carry one.

Fangs got her to the worn pleather couch where Lavender heaved a somewhat over-dramatic sigh. Her eyes lost focus as she stared at the wall with a frown on her face. Both boys glanced at one another, sharing a confused look before Fangs waved a hand in front of her face. “Lavie, come back to the Earth, alien princess.” Her gaze focused in on his moving hand. A pout formed on her lips as she looked at him. “Is Toni working tonight?” “Yea, why?” Fangs asked, wondering why his answer made her look so crestfallen. “No reason.” She said, though in truth she had wanted help in taking a bath. She felt so fucking dirty, like she’d never get clean again. The memory of the sensation of Ghoulie hands roaming over her body made her want to heave. Lav had hoped that she’d be able to have some help in getting some of the dried blood off of her. She needed fresh bandages put on and there were places she did not want Fangs or Sweet Pea – God, especially Sweet Pea – to see. He felt his eyes boring into her like two well-aimed lasers. Cutting away at her already ripped skin. “Take a fucking picture, Sweet Pea.” She finally hissed out. Sweet Pea scoffed lightly as he looked away from her, “why? I know what a wounded raccoon looks like.” He said coldly, earning an elbow in the ribs from Fangs who looked less than pleased. Lavender steeled her features to keep her hurt from showing. She knew she looked ugly, hell she felt even uglier. The last thing she needed was for him to tell her that. The amount of physical pain was considerable, but it didn’t match the fractioning pieces of her heart that only splintered more at his comment. Not that she even cared what he thought. Fuck him, he was just an asshole. “How about Sweet Pea goes and picks us up Pop’s for dinner?” Fangs offered. Lavender hadn’t felt like eating. Since she hadn’t been able to brush her teeth, she could still taste vomit in the back of her throat. Despite knowing food would help with her medication, she didn’t want to eat. Didn’t want to even think about food. “No thanks, Fogarty. I’m not hungry.” Fangs’ face fell slightly. He had hoped a milkshake would cheer her up a little, make her feel better. “You need to go anyway, Fangs.” Sweet Pea reminded him, “Your mom is working tonight.” “Oh shit.” Fangs muttered, “I totally forgot.” The girl’s eyes narrowed at her friend, “you’re not staying?” She was already feeling nauseous from the thought of being alone with Sweet Pea. First Toni couldn’t come help her and now Fangs? She was dreading just being alive at this point.

Fangs gave her a sympathetic look, “I have to watch Gingersnap for my mom. Don’t worry, Sweets will take care of you. That really nice nurse wrote down everything we need to do to make sure you feel better.” He dug through the bag they had gotten from the hospital to show her neatly handwritten notes. “When to take your meds, when to change your bandages. Everything!” He grinned at her, praying that it would be contagious. It wasn’t. “I’m not excited about this either, princess.” Sweet Pea drawled, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. He still wasn’t looking at her. She wondered for a moment why he hated her so much. What she had ever done to him to deserve the treatment she was getting. Whatever. She’d do this without him. Fangs checked the time on his phone and cursed. “I’ve got to go. I’ll text you to make sure you’re still alive, okay? And as soon as my mom gets home I’ll come right back. Keep the door locked and listen to Sweet Pea, okay?” “Why do I have to listen to him? He’s a jerk.” Lavender grumbled, holding her ribs as she stood up. Her legs shook under here and both boys were sure she was going to fall right back down. She looked like a fawn just after birth, ready to collapse at any moment. After a moment she steadied herself and did her best to stand up straight, stretching to full height as if that would do anything to help her case. She was still shorter than both Fangs and Sweet Pea, but hell everyone was shorter than Sweet Pea. Even Lucifer himself, Lavender mused silently. Fangs like out a tired sigh. He had hardly slept at all last night and it showed. Lav only slept thanks to the sedatives they pumped her full of. She was wishing she had some more just to help cope. “Because you can barely stand on your own.” Lavender let out an offended huff. Her jaw clenched as she willed herself to brush past both of them and to her room. “Screw you!” She spat before walking into the room and slamming the door. Once by herself tears pricked her eyes and she had to put a hand over her mouth to keep the sob from coming out. She had always been independent. Even as a little girl. She would be damned if she started depending on anyone now. Her back was against the door as she steadied her breathing to keep from crying. A few rogue tears went down her face as she made her way to her bed. Slowly she eased herself down to her soft mattress, laying down to bury her face into her pillow and finally cry.

*~~~~~~~~~~~*

Hours later the alarm on Sweet Pea’s phone went off. He hadn’t heard a single sound from Lav’s bedroom, and he wondered if she was even still awake or if she had actually gotten hungry. He was but the only thing he found in her kitchen cabinets were spaghetti noodles and Little Debbie Swiss rolls. How did she not have any fucking food? He grabbed the gauze and medical tape that FP had bought as well as the antibiotic ointment from the pharmacy. This was going to be like pulling teeth and Pea knew it. Still, it had to get done. The giant went to her door and knocked on it three times, waiting a beat before opening the door. He flipped on the light switch by the door, a lucky guess on his part, and looked over at her. She was awake, staring into space again with that far out look in her eyes. They flickered to him for a moment and he could tell she’d been crying. It made him feel awkward. He never knew what to do when girls cried. He was shit at comforting them, unlike Fangs who always seemed to know what to do or say. Perks of having a little sister, he guessed. Sweet Pea walked over to her. The floor creaked under his weight and her eyes snapped to him suddenly hyper focused. “What are you doing?” She asked, her voice low but not hostile. The fight had been beaten out of her and the pathetic look she was giving him sent a pang of guilt through his chest. It only lasted a moment before disappearing. “It’s time to redress your cuts.” He said, “And time to take your medicine.” He set down a bottle of water on the bedside table next to her face. Lav struggled to lift herself up into a sitting position. A groan of pain left her pink lips as the movement caused strain on her worn muscles. Everything ached, especially her ribs. Lying so incredibly still hadn’t been so bad, though breathing did cause a dull throbbing in her torso. Her expanding lungs seem to press against the fractured bones painfully which made her resort to shallow breathing. Still she wanted to wash herself but that was out of the question. There was no way in hell she was getting naked in front of Sweet Pea and having him help ease her into the bath tub. Not that she even thought he’d agree to that. It occurred to her that she had to have been in a state of undress when Fangs and Pea found her last night. The thought sending a sickening feeling through her. If only she hadn’t looked so weak in front of them. How was she ever going to prove her strength now? It shouldn’t have bothered her. She was in her underwear in front of all of the Serpents the night she did her initiation dance. It was different when it was voluntary. Sweets was boring holes into her yet again, aggravating her. “I’m not going to do it with you in here…” She mumbled to him, her voice hardening again. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I’ve already seen all there is to see.” Sweet Pea said, not really trusting her to be able to handle herself. A horrified look past over Lav’s face at his words. Then she chided herself for even thinking he’d look at her like that. “You can barely sit up, how are you going to do this by yourself?” Her head turned away from him as she started to slowly undo the buttons on the grey and green flannel she was wearing. She could feel his eyes on her as she slipped her shirt off and she quickly hugged herself with her arms, feeling way too exposed. “Your pants.” He reminded her when she didn’t move from her position. Lav shot him an annoyed, defiant look which honestly amused Sweet Pea more than anything. Lav still didn’t move, “I’m not taking off my pants, you can forget it.” Sweets took an intimidating step towards her, suddenly making her feel very small. “The worst cuts are on your thighs.” He said, having known because he had seen them. He also overheard the nurse telling FP that she had the most stitches there. She was lucky they didn’t hit an artery. She almost crumbled before him in humiliation, “I can’t…I need help.” She muttered. He had barely heard her.   He rolled his eyes and got down on his knees in front of her, setting the bag with the medical supplies down. His hands moved to the waistband of her black sweatpants and Lav felt tears come to her eyes. She tried to swallow them back, tried to remind herself that this was Sweet Pea. He was a total dick but he wasn’t going to hurt her. Not on purpose. “W-wait.” She stammered as his fingers brushed against the bare flesh of her hips. He looked up at her with what she could have sworn was tenderness in his eyes. It was gone for a moment before dissolving into two brown pools devoid of emotion. Sweet Pea waited until she was ready. He knew this had to be hard for her and FP had warned both him and Fangs not to push her too hard. He wanted to get this done and over with but at the same time…there was a small part of him that didn’t want to send her over the edge so soon after the attack. Lavender took a few shallow breaths. She leaned back on her good hand and lifted up her hips for him. “Okay.” She said softly and he slowly slid the fabric down to just below her knees. Her entire body was shaking and Pea thought that maybe he should say something to try and calm her down. Except, he didn’t know at all what to say. He slowly took off the bandages around her thighs, unwrapping the gauze and setting it to the side of him. He dug through the bag to grab the antibiotic ointment for her. Once it was open, he broke the seal and put some on his large index finger. Lavie braced herself for pain, figuring Sweets was going to be as rough as he usually is in how he does everything. To her surprise he used every ounce of restraint in him to softly glide the ointment over the stitched up gashes along her thighs. It would have been something close to erotic if it had been anyone other than this giant jerk. She studied his face, his lips were pressed together into a hard line and his eyes were focused on the task before him. He couldn’t help but look over the finger-shaped purple bruises that marred her pale skin. His digits lingered on her for only a second before he pulled away from his work. Lav let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. His eyes finally glanced up to meet hers. There was anger in them. Burning like simmering coals in a dying fire. She wondered what she had done to piss him off so suddenly when just a moment ago there was nothing but apathy in his gaze. “You’re a dumbass.” Sweet Pea said, fury still sizzling in the back of his mind. His voice was harsher than he had intended, but he needed her to know. But Lavender didn’t need the blame placed on her by someone else right now, she had been doing that enough herself. A tear escaped her blue-green eye and stumbled down her cheek. “I know.” She choked out, hating to say out loud that this was her fault. She put her own self in this situation. Sweet Pea didn’t have a response to that. His eyes flickered to the lip that she was biting hard to keep from giving in to her emotions. He picked up a gauze pad and placed it along her biggest cut. He taped in into place before moving to some of the small ones. He only looked back up at her when he was finished. Lavender leaned back once more, lifting her hips again and he carefully pulled her pants back up for her like he had done the night before. He ignored her sigh of relief when they were secured in place. With her legs wrapped, he moved to her stomach. Repeating the process of taking off the old bandages, putting the medication on them, and rewrapping them all with a softness that she had never seen from him before. At least, not towards her. Maybe towards Toni or Fangs but definitely not towards her. Luckily there were no actual cuts on her ribcage itself so he didn’t need to undo the thick cloth bandages that were wrapped around them. He took the bandage off the cut on her left breast. Luckily he could access it without her having to take her bra off. That would have been a hard no for her. She winced when the adhesive of the tape pulled on her sensitive skin, and she could have sworn that she heard something akin to an apology leave his mouth. She couldn’t be sure, his voice had been so muted.   Once again he found his fingers tracing over the mixture of black, purple, and pink bruising across her skin. It looked almost like a galaxy etched into her soft flesh. Lav stared hard at the frown on his face. She mistook it for disgust. Of course she looked disgusting. Her skin wasn’t the right color, it was swollen, sensitive, and cut to ribbons in some places. Pea made quick work of the bandages on her breast. Her right one had been untouched. He found it odd that the Ghoulies didn’t try to do something with her tattoo which he could mostly see on the exposed part of her chest. The bottom tip was covered by the pink fabric of her bra. He realized now why she wanted Toni. She didn’t want him to be touching her like this and it was easy to guess why. He was oblivious sometimes but he wasn’t a total idiot. Lavender pulled her shirt back up onto her shoulders and started to button it back up again. She was trying to ignore his presence and was doing a fairly good job until he felt his hand cup the wounded side of her face. He gingerly peeled back the medical tape that secured the gauze pad in place. She watched him with another baited breath. Four cuts disfigured what he begrudgingly thought was a beautiful face. Her freckles hidden by the vast collection of bruises.

With a touch even lighter than before, he dressed the cuts on her face before applying another pad and taping it into place. Once done he slammed down the pill bottles onto her bedside table from inside the bag. “Take these.” He practically growled out before storming out. He was so volatile. Tender in one moment and rough in the next. It threw her for a loop as she played with the medicine bottles. She managed to open them with much difficulty since one wrist was in a cast. Once she got the lids off she took the prescribed dose and swallowed it down with a splash of water. Her stomach growled in protest but she ignored it. All she wanted to do was sleep and forget all about the volcanic serpent in her living room.

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[anotherfiveyears]

31: All My Love

*March 2002, Arlington, Virginia*

Dave hung up the phone and sauntered into the studio, ignoring everyone as he plugged his guitar into the amp and fiddled with the pedals at his feet, just waiting for Taylor to do or say something. He had been baiting him for almost a week at rehearsals, knowing that Taylor was beyond annoyed with him for delaying the album so many times.

They were finally back in Virginia, which was another source of contention with Taylor. He had wanted to leave LA months ago and start session work, but Dave refused to go until Anna was ready. He had kept Anna and Taylor away from each other, fearing Taylor would reveal that she was the reason the album was stalling and he just knew that would make Anna go home too soon. It wasn't until she mentioned missing her parents that he knew she could handle going back, but even then he wanted her to take things slowly.

Taylor didn't understand why Dave was so eager to put Anna's needs above the band's when they weren't even a couple, but Dave didn't consider that his problem. Besides, when he wasn't with Anna, he was out in the desert with Josh working on the new Queens album and loving every second of it. He had forgotten how much he loved being a drummer and Anna had found a certain kind of therapy in surfing, so there was no hurry on either of their parts to race back to Virginia just because Taylor was getting antsy.  Winter had come and gone, now Spring was winding down and they were only just beginning to hash out some potential singles for the record.

Chris shifted awkwardly on his feet, his eyes darting from Taylor to Dave to Nate and then back to Taylor again before he finally took a deep breath. "Hey, I can cut the tension in here with a fucking knife. What the fuck is going on?"

Dave kept his eyes down at his pedals, but widely smirked at Chris's remark. "I think Taylor used baking soda to cut..."

"What the fuck did you say?" Taylor hopped off the stool and kicked it backward, sending it crashing to the concrete floor with a deafening clatter.

"I said-" Dave spun around to confront him, only to watch Nate and Chris drop their guitars and head for the door.

"What is your fucking problem?" Taylor screamed in his face. "We finally get a chance to rehearse and you act like a fucking dick!"

"I'm a dick? You're the one breathing down my neck all the fucking time! I can't even get through a fucking phone call without you pounding on the fucking window!"

"That was Josh on the phone, wasn't it?" Taylor spat and Dave almost laughed at how much he sounded like a jealous girlfriend. "You spend all your time with them and every other second is spent with Anna while-"

"Don't you fucking dare, Hawkins," he warned with as much venom as he could muster. "She just went through-"

"And I didn't? Did you not just sit in some dingy fucking hospital room with me for weeks on end? Do you not realize that this is what's going to keep me out of the shit, Dave?" Taylor stepped back and waved his arm towards the instruments laid randomly around the room. "All I want to do is work, man. I want something steady in my life that I can look forward to so I don't have the urge to go back."

It was only then that Dave felt like maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he had put Taylor further back on the priority list than he deserved to be. "We can finish these sessions, but I'm already committed to Queens," he said honestly. There was no getting out of drumming on the album or the tour now.

Taylor nodded, his eyes never leaving Dave's. "No, man. That's cool. Once we finish the gigs, I'm out. I need something dependable."

Dave felt his heart sink and his blood boil all at the same time. Fucking drummers. "Great."

"Yep."

*

Dave stormed through the front door, slamming it behind him so hard that the pictures on the wall rattled loudly. Scooter's paws eagerly tapping on the hardwood floors greeted him, but when he came around the corner he took one look at Dave and slid to a stop, clumsily turning around so he could retreat back to Anna. Even the dog couldn't stand to be around him now.

Hurling his keys on to the kitchen counter, he began to search through the cabinets."Anna! Where's the fucking whiskey?"

The silence that greeted him sent him into a fury, slamming one cabinet door so hard that it splintered the wood away from its hinges

"David."

Her calm voice did nothing to sedate him."What?!" he yelled, only then feeling bad for taking everything out on her and looked over his shoulder to see her patiently holding the bottle he was looking for. They held each other's stare for a moment before she retrieved a glass from the cabinet beside her and poured him a drink, sliding across the countertop and into his hand. She waited until he had downed it, then pulled out the barstools for them to sit on along with another glass for herself. They sat together in silence, drinking half the bottle between them before he was ready to speak.

"Taylor quit."

The color drained from Anna's face and she took a long sip. "Why?"

Dave just shook his head, too scared to tell her the truth. If she knew Taylor was pissed about all the time he spent with her, she would leave again.

"Why, David?" she repeated.

"He's jealous! He's pissed that I'm working with Josh and not spending all my time with him and the band and the record and... He's just way out of fucking line."

"Is he?"

"What?" he set his empty glass in front of him and looked at her in surprise.

"You're asking a lot of them, David. Of Taylor and Chris and Nate. You wander off to party with Josh and company and now you're asking them to sit on their hands for who knows how long until you're done earning money for another group? How fair is that?"

"They knew that when they signed up for this gig," he spat at her. "They fucking knew I was in demand as a drummer."

"Good," she said sweetly and stood up from her seat. "Then you'll have no problems drumming in your own band now, cause you're sure as hell not going to find someone like Taylor before Coachella."

*April 2002, Indio, California*

"Would you just go talk to him?" Anna shoved him a little on the shoulder when he spotted Taylor's blonde hair in the crowd just outside the RV they had rented for the weekend.

"I don't wanna," he said petulantly, making Anna roll her eyes.

"Fine," she stepped around him and wrenched open the window. "Hey, Hawkins!" she screamed, waving when he spun around at the sound of her voice. "Get in here!"

"Goddamnit, Anna," Dave groaned and retreated back to the bedroom to try and think of what he could possibly say to fix this.

"Anna Banana!" Taylor yelled and bounced up the steps into the RV, throwing his arms around her in a tight hug. "I never see you anymore! Dave keeps you locked away like some..." He trailed off when Dave stepped out of the bedroom and let Anna go.

She stood between them, carefully gauging the tension before deciding they probably wouldn't exchange blows if she left. "Well, I'm gonna go catch The Vines. You two have fun!"

"How's she doing?" Taylor asked once she was gone and flopped down into a bench seat.

Dave slid into the booth across from him and leaned onto his elbows. "She's okay. She has her moments, but she's back to being Anna again."

"She's not wearing her ring... You guys make it official yet?"

"Nope," Dave sighed. "Still roomies."

"Aw, she'll get there, man," Taylor offered. "Just give her a little more time."

Dave nodded and began to fidget, scratching at a stain on the Formica table between them.

"So, how's Josh?" Taylor suddenly asked, making Dave groan.

"Come on, T. Let's not do this."

"I'm just asking as a friend, man! I miss that... us... being friends."

Dave's stare went from the table top to Taylor's face, thinking the conversation might be easier than he expected. "Yeah, me too," he started, then spoke quickly before he lost the nerve. "Look, T... I'm sorry. About the album and putting you guys off and all that shit I said in the studio... I was an asshole."

Taylor sat silently, then raised his eyebrows and waved his hand to get him to continue.

"... and I don't want you to quit. I really don't, but I have to finish this shit with Queens."

"Fuck, dude," Taylor whined and put his head in his hands.

"Dude, just... it would mean a lot to me if you'd watch the set tonight. We'll have a good time tonight, play the gig tomorrow and we can just... be done."

Taylor sighed deeply and threw his head back into the wood veneer wall behind him. "Yeah, okay," he said quietly.

*

That night, Dave channeled every ounce of anger and frustration he had accumulated in the past few months and threw it into the kit, earning a surprised glance from Josh during the opener and then an excited smile when the desert crowd exploded in front of them. The entire set was flawless and fun, and he was just beginning to think it wouldn't be so hard to break up the Foo Fighters when he saw Anna and Taylor at stage left, both of them grinning and nodding along to the music. The anger suddenly dissipated and he began to play because he loved it, not because he had something to prove.

During the party backstage, he felt the familiar buzz of the music industry discovering fresh meat and managed to corner Josh long enough to break the news that he wouldn't return for a second album.

"Is it Taylor? He's fucking pissed, isn't he," Josh asked and took a drag of his cigarette.

"Yeah," Dave sighed and ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair. "He's struggling."

"Don't worry about it, man," Josh shrugged and Dave thought maybe he was being sarcastic. It just couldn't be that easy.

"What?"

"Man, you did me a fucking favor by playing even one song on my record. If you gotta go, you go. We can get a session guy in for the rest of the tour."

Dave stared at him for a long moment, stunned at how chill he was about the entire thing, then almost tackled him to the dirt in a hug.

"You gotta promise me we'll doing something in the future, though," Josh said through his laugh. "Maybe we can score a Beatle or one of the guys from Queen."

"Yeah, I'd love that," Dave nodded and let him go. "But let's get one of the guys from Zeppelin."

They both laughed at how impossible that sounded and wandered back into the party.

*

When he and Anna finally made it back to the RV, he groaned and began to throw back the cushions around the table so he could turn it into the bed he had slept in the night before, but Anna pulled him upright.

"No," she said firmly and spun him around by the shoulders to shove him down the narrow hallway towards the bedroom. "You had a hell of a night and have an even bigger day tomorrow. You take the bed."

He fell forward onto the mattress, his voice muffled by the blankets, "I have to take a shower first."

"Do those six bottles of water you dumped over yourself during the set not count?" she laughed and began to pull off his shoes. "Taylor kept singing the Flashdance song."

Once his shoes were off, he rolled onto his back. "Did he say anything else? Did he like the set?"

She shot him a questioning look and pulled a towel out of a cabinet to throw at him. "He told you he loved it, David."

"Yeah, but that was to my face. I want to know what he really thinks."

"I think he honestly loved it. He knew the songs, sang a little and even air drummed along with you," she giggled a little at the memory. "He's got a great voice! Do you need help with your shirt?"

Dave smiled up at her, thrilled that Taylor had like the set. "Yeah, my arms are useless right now."

"'Kay, sit up," she straddled his knees and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head and then huffed when he got tangled in the sleeves. "You gotta work with me, David!"

"I'm trying!" he whined, then laughed when she swore in frustration.

Once he was free of the fabric, she tossed it aside and sat back on his knees to glare at him, but when his hands went to her hips the mood shifted from light to something very different. The music from the main stage drifted through the open window and Anna smiled down at him when she recognized Siouxsie and the Banshee.

"Just like old times, huh," she said softly and rested her hands on his shoulders.

He stared at her, wondering if he would have made it through the stress and anxiety of the weekend without her. "I'm really happy you're here, Annie."

"Me too," she whispered and leaned into him, kissing him softly at first before pulling away.

"Anna...," he started, searching her face for any clue as to what she was feeling but she only looked worried.

"Can we do this?" she asked, then shook her head a little realizing it was a stupid question. "I mean, do you still want... me?" The last word came out as a shy squeak and she looked down to hide her red cheeks.

He ducked as much as he could to see her face and squeezed his hands over her hips. "I never stopped wanting this, Annie. Not for a moment."

Her eyes snapped back to his and filled with tears, though he had seen enough of her tears in the past six months to know these were different. These weren't tears of anguish and anger, they were tears of relief. She pulled him to her and kissed him again, leaning into him until he was laying back on the mattress. He slid his hands from her hips underneath her loose t-shirt to unclip her bra, but couldn't find the clip... or a bra for that matter. He whined against her lips, in actual physical pain from wanting her so badly and she took mercy by quickly unbuckling his belt and slipping her hand down the front of his camo cargo shorts.

"Fuck, Anna," he moaned when her fingers brushed against him but they both froze when they heard the RV door swing open.

"Dave? It's Taylor!"

In one swift move, he sat up while Anna rolled off of him and onto the floor, laying perfectly still in the tiny space between the bed and the wall.

"Whoa, you okay, man?" Taylor asked from the bedroom door, unable to see Anna from where he was standing.

"Yeah, just tired from the set," Dave said quickly and leaned forward to hide any evidence that Anna had just been all over him. Cold showers, a kick in the nuts, that time Gus forgot a towel and wandered around in front of everyone totally naked, he thought, eventually calming himself down enough to stand and actually listen to what Taylor was saying.

"... you were really great up there, man. Can we... you know... talk?"

"Yeah... let me just grab a shirt and we can take a walk." Dave casually walked back into the bedroom while Taylor waited. He pulled a shirt out of his suitcase and felt Anna's hand around his ankle, looking down at her as she silently laughed from the carpet. Dropping to his knees, he covered Anna's body with his own. "I'll be right back," he breathed. "Don't go anywhere." She nodded and kissed him, making him hop up as fast as he could before he had to focus on Gus's naked ass again to kill yet another Anna-induced hard-on.

Taylor frowned when Dave shut the bedroom door behind him. "Hey, where's Anna? I thought she came back here with you."

"She wanted to catch the Siouxsie set," Dave offered. "She's been a big fan since she was a kid."

*

"Anna...," Dave sang her name softly into the dark motorhome but stumbled up the steps and onto the carpeted floor with a loud thud. "Ow! Shit!"

He heard her grumble and the bed squeak when she turned over, but she was still after that. Goddamnit, he thought. Of course she fell asleep.

He and Taylor had walked around the entire backstage area at least five times before they finally came to the conclusion that they would readdress Taylor quitting after the gig tomorrow, but regardless of the outcome they would still remain friends. With the last huge stress off his shoulders, he crawled down the narrow hallway to the back room and up onto the bed.

"Annie...," he whispered, tasting pure tequila on his own breath. Jesus, how many shots did we do? he thought.

"David?" she stirred and rolled onto her back. "Hey, kitten. How'd it go?" she gave him a sleepy smile and sat up a little, revealing her black push up bra.

"Is that for me, Annie?" he asked, reaching out to hook his finger under the shoulder strap.

"David...," she laughed and ran her fingers through his hair once he crawled close enough.  "You're drunk!"

"Only a little," he frowned, worried she might not want to fool around with him anymore, but she pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply, then giggled when he scrambled under the covers with her.

There was no way he would have said it sober, but the tequila swimming around in his blood thought it was the perfect comment to end the evening. "When are you gonna be ready to marry me and start on those eight kids?"

She hummed a little laugh against his chest then stretched against him so she could kiss his throat.

"Give me another five years, kitten."

#anotherfiveyearsfic

[taikoturtle]

“rise and fucking shine, motherfucker.” for the prompts. trimberly

This was intended to be a short,

Read it on Ao3

“Rise and shine everyone; rise and shine!”

Zack’s surprisingly chipper voice rings through the crisp morning air and Kimberly wonders why she even agreed to this trip in the first place. A low grumble resembling a feral growl more than anything, emits beside her.

“I’ll rise, but I refuse to shine,” Trini grunts as she turns over and pulls her cushiony sleeping bag tighter over her head. Tufts of disheveled hair poke out from haphazard directions and it’s quite possibly one of the cutest things Kimberly’s seen, but that’s probably the drowsiness talking.

Jason had called for a group camping trip out on the mountain for the weekend, aiming to strengthen their team bond and take a break from their grueling training regimen. It seemed like a fantastic idea at the time, but with the bright sunlight flooding through the thin material of the cheap, flamingo pink tent and her stomach growling louder than a starving tiger, Kimberly’s starting to think that Trini has the right idea.

“Ten more minutes,” mumbles Kimberly as she wriggles deeper into her own sleeping bag.

The sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs gets louder and louder until the entrance flap of the girls’ tent swings wide open and Zack’s boyish grin fills their view. “Oh hell no, we are not sleeping in. We’ve got a full day ahead of us!”

A yellow pillow promptly flies through the air and smacks him in the face with expert precision. He crinkles his nose in response and purses his lips playfully.

“Fine, no breakfast for you Crazy Girl, but don’t come whining to me when you miss out on all the sausages.”

Trini pokes her head up from beneath her sleeping bag and snickers, “I’ll pass on the morning sausage—not really my thing.”

“Suit yourself,” Zack says with a shrug, completely oblivious to the double entendre. “More for me anyways.”

He releases the tent’s flap and retreats, muttering to himself, “Who doesn’t like sausage?”

Trini glances at Kimberly and upon catching her gaze and holding it for all of three seconds, their self-control crumbles and they burst into a fit of wild laughter. It’s pure and uninhibited and Kimberly’s sides start to ache with each successive giggle, but when she rolls over a little too far and ends up barely a foot away from Trini’s face, the laughter slowly subsides. The air is heavy with silence, the noise of the great outdoors seemingly dialed down to a dull background hum, leaving them with nothing but each other.

Kimberly swallows thickly. “Zack’s pretty…dense, huh.”

“Yeah,” Trini remarks quietly, her eyes piercing Kimberly’s, “he sure is.”

Maybe it’s the morning mental haze blanketing over her judgment, or maybe it’s the soft, warm light catching on her billowing locks of hair, but Trini looks absolutely angelic. She looks stunning, beautiful, entirely unique and perfectly her. There’s a thousand words Kimberly can use to describe Trini and a thousand more beyond her vocabulary and yet it still wouldn’t be enough to rightfully do her justice.

Except these thoughts scare her more than anything, all the way down to her core. Kimberly has only ever liked guys before, but that’s because it never crossed her mind before that there could be room for alternative options; she never had to think about it.

Not until Trini.

But admitting these feelings are real, acknowledging that they exist, could lead down a slippery slope because they only spell a world of complications and hardships. What if Kimberly ruins the synergy of the team? She doesn’t want to be the reason they can’t morph. It can’t happen, not again. So Kimberly pretends these feelings aren’t there, that they’re just a figment of her imagination, a cruel fabrication of her lonely heart.

Sometimes though, when she catches glimpses of Trini, she swears she sees the same reservations reflected in her cautious eyes, and yet…

“Jason, I think the potatoes are burning.”

Billy’s mildly worried voice drifts through the air followed by a string of obscenities, courtesy of Jason. A smoky, slightly charred odor begins to permeate the tent and the spell is broken.

Kimberly clears her throat and rolls back to her side of the tent. “We should check on the boys. Sounds like they’re having difficulties without us.”

If Trini’s privy to Kimberly’s brief internal panic, she doesn’t show it. Her expression, stoic as ever, betrays nothing and she simply nods in agreement. “Sure.”

They get dressed and exit their tent only to be greeted by the sight of Jason slumped over a frying pan with Billy patting his back.

“It’s okay Jason, I have a hard time with potatoes too. We can just scrape off the burnt parts. They’re not completely inedible.” He pauses for a couple of seconds. “Only about 75 percent inedible.”

A heavy sigh leaves Jason’s mouth and Zack laughs before noticing the girls and waving. “Finally, the sleeping beauties decide to grace us with their presence.”

“Oh har har, Mister I-Need-Seven-Hours-Of-Sleep-Or-I’ll-Die,” Trini retorts sarcastically.

“How else am I gonna look this good?” Says Zack as he winks at them. “Besides, I slept at a decent hour last night while you were both doing whatever girls do at sleepovers. Braiding each other’s hair? Gossiping about celebrities?”

Trini rolls her eyes and smiles. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Duh, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Well none of the above,” Kimberly interjects. “We were actually looking at the stars. The sky is super clear out here and we could actually make out some constellations.”

“Plus we saw a shooting star,” Trini adds. “How cool is that?”

“And we both made a wish,” Kimberly hums happily. She won’t admit what she wished for, at least not out loud, because it may or may not involve a certain Yellow Ranger.

Billy gasps, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “What did you guys wish for? You’re always supposed to wish upon a shooting star. Wait, wait, no, don’t tell me, otherwise it won’t come true.”

“Hey, guys, we’re losing focus.” Zack starts to snap his fingers to grab their attention. “What we should be concentrating on is the fact that our fearless leader burnt the easiest breakfast in the world.”

“Lay off, man.” Jason groans in protest. “You try cooking the potatoes next time if you’re such an Iron Chef.”

The light-hearted bickering continues for another good fifteen minutes as Jason doles out the somewhat edible portions onto round, dented tin pans for everyone to get their fill before heading out for the day. With food occupying their attention, the back and forth banter dwindles into a comfortable silence punctuated with the sounds of content chewing. Zack practically inhales his food, both out of sheer hunger and from raw excitement, so he starts doing some stretches to limber up while waiting for the rest to finish.

The first item on the agenda is hiking. Jason seems to have a route in mind as he maneuvers briskly, weaving in and out around the trees with purpose behind each wide step. It almost feels like they’re walking in circles based on how much ground they seem to be covering and it makes Kimberly fascinated with how vast the forest really is.

“Hey Jason, how far away is it?” Billy asks as he adjusts the straps of his backpack to get it situated in a more comfortable position.

Waving his hand, Jason presses forward. “We’re nearly there.”

Trini swats at a stray spider web caught on her wrist and frowns at the nuisance. “When you mentioned a hike, I was picturing more of a leisurely nature walk.”

“Having trouble keeping up?” Zack cackles from farther ahead as he hops up several boulders before leaping high onto a swaying tree branch nearly twenty feet off the ground. His added weight bends the wood down precariously as he finds his balance. “And here I thought you were the most athletic of us all next to Jason.”

“Make no mistake, I can be as athletic as I want,” Trini yells up at her friend, “but the keyword here is want, and what I want right now is to be wrapped up in a warm sleeping bag and catching a couple more hours of sleep.”

“Well all I’m hearing from up here are excuses. Maybe you should put your money where your mouth–”

SNAP!

“–shit!”

The branch beneath Zack’s feet buckles without warning before snapping in half. Splinters shower out in all directions as he plummets to the earth, colliding with a couple of other stray branches on his way down before hitting the ground hard with a sickening thud.

“Zack!” Trini dashes over with Kimberly right behind her, both girls kneeling beside him. He lets out a long, weak groan and coughs a few times, the wind having been knocked from his lungs as he rolls around on his back.

“Are you okay?” Kimberly asks with concern.

“Nothing’s hurt but my pride,” Zack jokes quietly before hissing in pain, his brow scrunching abruptly. “And maybe my leg.”

They turn their attention to the limb in question to survey the damage and spot a large tear in his jeans with a gash spanning a good length up his shin towards the bottom of his kneecap. It’s large but shallow, with blood seeping out at an even, slow pace.

Jason starts motioning back the way they came. “We need to take him back to the camp, get it cleaned up–”

“No way,” Zack objects as he struggles up into a sitting position. “I’m not going to be a downer for this trip. You said we were almost there anyways, right? Let’s just get to wherever we were going to go and you can just patch me up there.”

“I don’t know…” Jason hesitates as he looks at the other Rangers for a second opinion.

“How far away are we?” Kimberly asks.

“About five more minutes.”

“I can handle that,” Zack chimes in as he shakily stands up with the help of Trini. “Stings like no other, but that’ll be nothing compared to what my mom will say. She just helped me sew these pants back up from that incident a couple weeks ago.”

“Maybe someone should stop ripping their pants so much,” Trini quips sarcastically, prompting Zack to roll his eyes. She pauses momentarily before continuing on. “I’ll fix them for you. Your mom has enough on her plate already and I’m a pro thanks to my little brothers.”

He grins broadly and ruffles her hair. “Thanks.”

She pulls her head away from the affectionate gesture in mock irritation, but the small smile that’s spread across her face says otherwise.

“Alright, follow me then.” Jason nods his head and they press onward.

True to his word, they walk for hardly more than five or so minutes before the trees begin to thin out and they’re met with a large open clearing and a shimmering lake. Sunlight glitters along the gentle, placid water and with the subtle sounds of birds and wildlife vibrating in the air, it’s an absolutely breathtaking sight to behold.

“Wow,” Billy exhales as he shields his eyes against the bright reflections to take in the entire view.

“Wow is right.” Trini echoes his sentiments as she helps ease Zack down to rest against a nearby boulder.

“Yeah, I had plans for us to go swimming,” Jason admits as he rubs his neck thoughtfully, “but I don’t know anymore.”

“You guys should still go.” Zack waves his hand. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“I’ll stay behind and patch him up,” Kimberly offers.

Trini’s face twists into a frown and she shakes her head adamantly, “What? No, I’ll do it.”

“It’s no big deal. Besides, I want you to go have fun.” Kimberly gives Trini’s shoulder a quick squeeze. Trini opens her mouth to protest, but whatever long-winded words she has prepared seem to die in her throat and her lips slowly come to a close. Zack casts an odd, skeptic look between the two of them, his eyebrow quirking up before sighing loudly and extending his arm towards Billy.

“Can you hand me the first aid kit please? These girls can’t get anything done when they’re around each other.”

“Hey!” Kimberly and Trini shout in unison but Billy remains unfazed to their affronted response and unshoulders his backpack with Zack laughing heartily from his position on the ground.

Unzipping the largest pocket, Billy tosses the emergency first aid kit at him before heading towards the water with Jason. Trini narrows her eyes at Zack before trailing shortly after to where Jason’s already starting to shed his clothes in favor of his swimsuit underneath. Billy hangs near the edge to feel the water lap at his feet, but politely declines when they ask him to join them out in the deeper depths. Kimberly doesn’t blame him; after what he went through with Rita at the docks, she would feel the same way.

Her attention though is quickly diverted as Trini catches her eyes. She pauses by the water before shyly pulling off her top to reveal a sleek, two-piece golden yellow bikini. It hugs her curves in a flattering way that has Kimberly’s breath hitching in her chest as she subconsciously licks her lips.  

“Thirsty much?”

Kimberly’s eyes bulge and her head whips around, bewildered and appalled at Zack’s comment. “Wh-what?”

“Hey, there’s no judgment here. We’re all a family, remember?”

“I–but– I, what?” Kimberly weakly sputters, completely at a total loss for words. She frantically snatches at Zack’s pant’s leg and starts rolling it up, busying her hands with pulling out the necessary first aid supplies. “No, no, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Listen, I’ve seen the way you guys look at each other. Doesn’t seem like much of a secret to me.”

Kimberly’s brow twitches and she splashes on some mild disinfectant to Zack’s gash causing him to grit his teeth. Her hand shakes as she reaches for the gauze, fingers fumbling while she wraps his leg with glazed and unfocused eyes.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” Kimberly’s voice is hushed and barely above a whisper, almost as if talking to herself instead of Zack. Slowly her hand comes to a stop over his leg, the gauze only partially wrapped around his skin. She doesn’t know why this is bothering her as much as it is, but there’s just so many questions, so many what ifs, that each possible outcome presented only seems worse than the one before. She’s run through countless scenarios in her mind, but the negative options constantly eclipse the good to the point where she’s simply given up.

Zack’s comment though, the way that they look at each other, well, it gives her a sliver of hope, but having hope like that is a dangerous thing because it can also set her up for an even harder fall. For once Kimberly isn’t so sure of anything anymore.

“I’m… scared.”

Her voice comes out so small that it sounds foreign in her ears. It’s so uncharacteristic, so atypical, that she just shuts down, because how does she even begin to deal with this monstrous, intangible fear? Where does she even start?

“You? Scared?” Zack scoffs with disbelief. “You’re Kimberly fucking Hart! Since when are you afraid of anything?”

Kimberly shakes her head and chuckles despondently, “More often than you think.”

He takes her hand in his own, his grasp both reassuring and comforting and it’s damn near impossible not to look him in the eyes. Zack has always been known to be the devious trickster of the group, the energetic character who manages to get them into all sorts of mischief and trouble, but it’s moments like this - when the facade is dropped - that his support means so much more.

“Even when you’re scared, you’re still a fighter,” he says proudly. “You don’t let anything pull you down, so whatever it is that you’re telling yourself, whatever it is that’s psyching you out, you just need to push it out of your head.”

“Yeah, well, easier said than done.” Kimberly casts her gaze sideways towards Trini and sighs, “This… isn’t that simple.”

Zack follows her line of sight before his features contort and he sucks in a sharp breath. “I mean, Trini would kill me if she knew I said anything, but–”

Except he never gets to finish his sentence as an unearthly screech rips through the air and Kimberly’s world goes black for several seconds before the pain even registers in her mind. Her body flies through the air before skidding to a halt, rocks and foliage raking harshly against her skin and drawing blood as an explosion of stars and dots obscure her vision. She can hear someone calling her name, but the voice sounds far away, almost like a dream, but the pounding in her head and the pulsing pain shooting up and down her arms firmly reminds her that this is as real as it gets.

“What the hell…” Kimberly groans disorientedly as she tries to regain her bearings but then a hand hastily snatches her by the arm and yanks her upright. Blinking hard and shaking her head to rid herself of the pesky stars muddling her vision, Kimberly glances sideward and is met with Trini’s distraught face.

“Are you alright?” She yells above the raucous commotion.

Kimberly finally takes a quick second to survey their surroundings and is met with the most bizarre sight: aggressive, anthropomorphic ravens with razor sharp talons are surrounding the group. There’s around four or five of them, each standing at least a head taller than Zack, but they’re circling in a frenzy making it harder to get a good gauge of how many they’re up against.

“What’s going on?!”

“They came out of nowhere,” Trini shouts urgently, “we’re under attack!”

Kimberly’s eyes widen. “Trini on your right!”

Trini heeds her warning in time to dodge the lunging foe before dropping low to deliver a sweeping kick to its shins, but the bird is equally fast and responds by leaping through the air and out of harm’s way. They engage in a dance of sorts, exchanging blows back and forth with neither landing a devastating enough hit to make a difference, but Kimberly has no time to focus on Trini’s well-being because another bird nearby squawks like it’s a harbinger of death and charges at her with startling speed.

She swivels in place and leans back, narrowly avoiding the sweeping arc the bird’s talons make as it swipes at her head. Grabbing its feathered arm with a vice-like grip, Kimberly counters by hurling the bird over her shoulder and slamming it into the ground. The earth crumbles underfoot, dirt and debris scattering outward as leaves and bones alike crunch and crackle from the impact.

A feeling of pride swells in Kimberly’s chest because she hasn’t exactly had the most stellar track record with hand-to-hand combat, so watching the enemy writhe on the ground with no signs of standing up anytime soon makes her feel accomplished as hell.

But there’s no time to waste, no time to slow down. There’s chaos all around as each Ranger is still paired off against a bird of their own. Kimberly’s mind is racing a thousand miles a second as she tries to decide who she should go help next, but then that’s when it happens.

The choice is made for her.

In the worst way possible.

Zack is favoring his weakened leg as he struggles to keep up against his enemy, but the bird is too fast and far more intelligent than it lets on because it goes straight for his injured leg. With a powerful kick, it clips Zack on his shin causing him to buckle from the pain and lose focus.

Then the bird swings its talons.

It’s like a scene from a movie. Or maybe a nightmare, but at this point they’re just one and the same. The deep slashes that appear on his throat almost look fake, as if they’re a cheap, horrible makeup prosthetic applied during Halloween. She sees a puffy, disgusting off-white, almost cream color where the skin is parting and Kimberly refuses to believe that it’s real, but after time starts ticking and the vacuum of disbelief dispels, the blood just starts gushing out in thick streams like a grisly waterfall. Zack’s widened eyes flutter, his mouth gaping open in shock, but there’s no sound coming out, there’s no nothing despite how hard he tries.  Kimberly hears a spine-chilling scream rip through the air.

Trini’s on the unlucky bird who’s responsible in an instant, wailing on it with a surprising flurry of punches as she beats it down into the ground harder and harder until the beast’s purple blood is coating her fists like macabre paint. Tears stream down her face as she relentlessly pummels the bird into submission to the point of it being an unrecognizable mess but she doesn’t care.

The rest of the remaining assailants look back and forth between each other, assessing the situation swiftly, before squawking and flying away.

“Come back here you fucking cowards!” Trini snarls viciously, halfway ready to leap through the air to pull another bird back to the ground and to its death, but a choked garbled sound escapes Zack’s mouth and rips her attention back to what matters.

“Oh my God what do we do?” Kimberly’s hands are shaking and there’s tears streaming down her face because fuck, there’s just so much blood and it’s everywhere.

“Put pressure on the neck, we need to stop the bleeding and get him to a hospital!” Trini’s hands are on his neck as Jason comes running up with his shirt that was shed earlier before swimming. She presses it against the wound to staunch the flow of blood, but her face is grim.

They’re all thinking the same thing, that Zack’s already lost too much blood, that her efforts are futile at best, but nobody wants to say it, nobody wants to admit it out loud.

Zack knows it though, his face reflects the same despair swirling in Trini’s expression, but there’s also acceptance in his glossy eyes and he grabs Trini’s arm. His mouth parts slightly prompting her to lean in close as she shakes her head, refusing to believe that this is the end.

“Take… care… my mom…”

He squeezes Trini’s arm weakly but it conveys the comfort and love that he holds for the entire squad and as his chest slows to a motionless halt, his grip going slack and eyes unseeing, Kimberly’s heart sinks like an anchor into the pit of her stomach.

Everything is still.

There’s no wildlife chirping, no breeze blowing–it’s almost as if the world stopped in solidarity of the fact that Zack’s whole life just ended. His brilliant energy and lovable charisma snuffed out faster than a candle in a storm and in spite of the rebellious life he’s lead, his final words were nothing but selfless; they just need to make sure to honor his request.

“What about… what about the Command Center?” Billy asks quietly. “Can Zordon or Alpha do anything? They brought me back, right?”

Jason rests his hand on Billy’s shoulder and sniffles, his eyes red as silent tears trickle down his cheeks. “No, the morphing grid only worked that once, it’s not going to work again.”

Billy’s face contorts in confusion. “Why not?”

“It won’t, okay?!” Trini snaps loudly causing Billy to flinch. Her shoulders sag with instant regret - she didn’t mean to be so rude at his honest question - so she softens her words as the heaviness in her heart speaks for itself. “It just… won’t.”

Still staring desperately at Zack, Billy continues on. “…Why can’t we at least try?”

The Rangers exchange looks with one another, knowing how fruitless it would probably be, but they figure maybe Billy is on to something, that hey, maybe there could be some goddamn miracle in Zordon’s bag of tricks. It’s a long shot, but it’s all they have at this point, so Jason hoists Zack’s body over his shoulder and they make their way towards the Command Center.

It’s the longest trek of their lives, or at least, that’s how it feels for Kimberly. Haunting visions of carrying Billy’s body from the docks to the Command Center flash through her mind. The first time dealing with death was almost easy. Easy in that it’s like blacking out. It’s like forcing your brain to shut down so that you can’t absorb the pain, to not digest how much it truly hurts.

But the second time around?

No, it doesn’t get any easier. The memories she’s tried so hard to suppress are slowly creeping up in the distance, like a suffocating blanket of darkness following in the wake of Zack’s untimely death, both events joining forces to be an unbearable, stifling pressure. For some reason it’s just so hard to ignore the second time around; she can only feel so numb.

The sun has already set by the time they reach the Command Center, their footsteps echoing throughout the cold, metallic hallways of the foreign ship and everything that follows just blurs together.

Alpha offers no quirky remarks, no half-baked attempts at human jokes - the moment he sees that there’s only four of them standing he assumes the worst has come to pass. The Rangers plea with him, asking if there’s anything that can be done, if there’s anything at all, but Alpha and Zordon’s responses are exactly as they fear.

There isn’t a damn thing in the world that can bring him back.

They stand there silently with the weight of the world on their shoulders as reality begins to crumble around them. How are they going to tell Zack’s mom? How do they tell an ailing woman that her only son, her absolute pride and joy, is gone? That she’s going to have to bury her own child before herself?

Nobody wants to be the one to tell her, but the wretched task is inevitable, however it’s getting late so they come to a collective decision to break the news in the morning. Alpha says he’ll clean Zack up while the team gets in a quick rest so that when they have to speak to Zack’s mom, Zack won’t look as… bad.

The hard part is figuring out how to explain it.

How does one explain away the horrid scratches on his neck? Or explain that her son was keeping the world safe from inexplicable evil day in and day out? Perhaps by the morning Alpha will have an answer, but it won’t make things any easier.

The team heads to the sleeping quarters to try and get a hint of shut-eye, but it’s hard when there’s nothing else to focus on but one’s own thoughts. Airy sniffles interrupt the still, dark room and Kimberly’s lungs constrict tightly in her chest, aching from the loss of one of their own. It doesn’t seem like she’ll make it through the night - how can she when Zack’s not there with them? - but she feels her bed sink down as Trini crawls under the covers with her.

Kimberly’s shirt dampens immediately from the silent tears streaming down Trini’s cheeks and Kimberly wishes she could just make the pain go away.

But she can’t.

No one can.

So she wraps her arms around Trini’s tiny, trembling body and lets her own tears flow freely until they have nothing left to cry and they both drift away into a dark, heavy slumber.

//

The first thing Kimberly notices when she wakes the following morning is just how nauseated she feels inside, how just the knowledge of knowing that Zack is no longer with them makes her gut twist like a pretzel.

The second thing she notices however, as she sluggishly blinks away the crust and rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand, is that everything looks… pink? And distinctly not the grey, lifeless color of the Command Center. So pink like… her tent?

“Rise and shine everyone; rise and shine!”

Kimberly’s eyes shoot wide open in shock.

That voice.

There’s no way.

It can’t be.

“I’ll rise, but I refuse to shine,” Trini grunts as she turns over and pulls her cushiony sleeping bag tighter over her head and an intense wave of déjà vu crashes over Kimberly.

The sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs gets louder and louder until the entrance flap of the girls’ tent swings wide open and Zack’s boyish grin fills their view. “Oh hell no, we are not sleeping in. We’ve got a full day ahead of us!”

Impossible

#trimberly #pink lemonade #trini x kimberly #sorry that this took so long anon #i'm not even done with it #T_T #i'll try and finish this soon #myfanfic