#Killing Them Softly (2012) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fangirl-dot-com · 27 days

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🧡❤️Dating Your Enemy's Sibling

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: How to get under your enemy/rival's skin? Charles answer was to start dating his younger sister. But now, he's glad he found love along the way. He only had to tell Max about the relationship when you won a race. That's won't be any time soon though . . . right?

*in honor of Lando's first win - here's this next installment of Reverse Tropes! I know that Max and Charles really aren't enemies. Maybe I should have done like a Pierre and Esteban thing, but I don't write for them. So here we go and please enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen.

Predestined rivals, written in the stars, invisible string, yada-yada-yada.

Putting it simply, Charles had an apt for pissing Max off and vice-versa. The world thought they would kill each other in karting, especially after the 2012 incident. The population sighed in relief when Max was taken from F3 and put in a Formula 1 car, while Charles took a bit longer.

And then Charles made it to Formula 1 in 2018. However, he was put in a HAAS, a car that was not really made to play with the other cars in the front of the pack. The earth was saved yet another year.

Well, until 2019 when Charles suddenly became the “It Boy” for the Prancing Horse. Meaning, that he could finally go back to terrorizing the grid and Max. But with terrorizing the grid came loads of trouble and hatred.

And more pissing off your rival.

Charles seethed on the podium as he listened to the Dutch national anthem and watched Max point to the stupid “H” on his race suit. He held in a scoff. At least the Ferrari logo was much better looking than that.

It wasn’t fair. He had the racing line and Max pushed him off. If his mind wandered, it would go back to a certain kart race back in 2012 where he pulled the same move. But that didn’t count because the race has already finished. Charles would have rather been disqualified instead of having to go through the torture of being up on the podium in second.

First loser as they call it.

The Monegasque driver held no happiness in his body as Max started spraying his winner’s champagne. Charles just picked up his bottle and drank it.

Still wasn’t as sweet as victory champagne would be.

He deliberately separated himself from Max as they stood for a picture. The visible gap made it much more hilarious for everyone around them.

When the festivities finished, he hightailed it out of there, just wanting to avoid the Dutchman presence. Charles sighed loudly as he walked back to the garage, definitely not in the mood to talk to anyone.

“Charlie!

The Monegasque stopped in his tracks, annoyance almost wracking his entire being. Can people just let him wallow in defeat? He straightened his shoulders and turned around, PR smile plastered on his face. However, the very fake smile turned into a real one when he noticed that you were almost jogging to catch up with him.

Y/n Verstappen.

You had always been a part of his childhood. Where Max was, you were one step behind him, following him in your small racing overalls. He remembered how little you always seemed compared to your brother. But size didn’t matter on the karting course.

Most of the time, the two boys found themselves trying to shake you off and others were behind your kart, picking up the dirt that you sent their way. And that’s why Charles put your name down as recommendations for his Prema seat after he won the championship in 2017. Because of him, you were able to graduate to Formula 2 and were on the track to make a debut in Formula 1 in the coming years.

“Hey Y/n,” Charles said softly, still not in the mood to really talk to anyone. But for you, he’d always make an exception. And he was supposed to fly back with you and Max, something he was still dreading.

You look at the Monegasque with sympathy. Charles wasn’t able to find any type of pity in your blue eyes (that matched Max’s).

Your brows furrowed as to talked to him. “What Max did wasn’t the right way to race. But Formula 1 is getting more and more competitive.”

The man, er boy, wanted to huff. He did not need this conversation from you. He almost turned around, but the next few sentences stopped him from making any motions.

“Charlie, you’ve always found ways to beat him. If he wants to play like this, then you just have to give him a taste of his medicine, get under his skin. Do what you always do and somehow get around him.”

He cocked his head, before his eyes lit up.

Get under his skin.

You watched as Charles’s eyes filled up with some light, making the green in them really shine. You could almost see ideas concocting in his head.

Charles went to say something, but was interrupted by his team principle. He swerved to respond before he turned back to you. There was a glint in his eyes that you really couldn’t put a finger on.

His took a deep breath before asking, “Do you want to maybe get dinner with me?”

Your eyes widened. Sure, the Monegasque was very attractive, but those were not the words that you were expecting to come out of his mouth.

Oh.

Now you got it.

Your facial expressions melted a bit, eyes pointed toward the ground as you kicked at it. Your arms crossed as you huffed.

“Using me for gain over my brother wasn’t what I was meaning Charles. I was thinking more like unfollow him on social media while we’re on the plane or something.”

The harsh “Ch” that began his name had him wincing. Like your brother, you had a small lisp which normally softened the two consonants to the point where his name sounded like it was supposed to be. And what was “Charles?” You rarely ever called him that, choosing to pick the more boyish nickname.

Although, your idea about Instagram wasn’t a bad one.

Charles looked a bit guilty as he scratched the back of his head. He honestly was endeared by you and your determination to never give up. He found you, well, cute. You were still 19, younger than him by a bit more than three years.

But if you were cute back in 2012 hanging on to Max’s wet overalls after the puddle, and you were cute now trying to console him instead of celebrating your brother’s victory, you would still be cute in the following years.

He sighed, knowing that he had to leave soon or he was going to get an earful from Sebastian for being late to yet another meeting. The Ferrari driver stepped forward a bit, getting closer to you. He looked down at his helmet before looking back to your eyes.

“When I win and when I beat your brother, then can I take you out to dinner?”

You mulled over the question in your head.

If he beat Max before you went out with him, then that meant that he was actually genuine and wasn’t using it to his gain. You also smirked, knowing that indeed it would piss Max off whenever he found out. Your position as an annoying younger sister would still be intact and possibly stronger.

You held out your hand, which Charles took in an instant.

“Deal Leclerc.”

“Deal Verstappen.”

When Charles took the top step in Spa, pride filled his chest when he noticed Max’s glare at him. He had beaten the Dutchman at his home race. Albeit, it was a DNF for Max, but a win either way. He swayed back and forth as his national anthem played and then sang quietly along with the Italian anthem. Deep in his heart, he knew the true weight of the win.

For Anthoine.

He knew somewhere he made his French friend proud. Just like Jules. And Just like Papa.

Charles watched down below as you looked like you could hardly keep a smirk off your face. And it was bad too as you stood next to Max, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there below Charles.

The Monegasque raised his eyebrows when you locked eyes. You just hoped that Max wouldn’t catch on that he was staring right at you. Thankfully, you were right next to a Ferrari manager, so Max could guess that Charles was looking at him.

When the winner finally got ready, you were waiting outside his garage.

“Hi,” you whispered, putting your phone away. Charles didn’t verbally respond, but he wrapped his arms around you. You melted in his arms, still smelling a bit of the champagne in his hair.

He looked down at you.

“Are you ready for dinner?”

Your eyes held a playful glint. “I hope you chose a good restaurant Leclerc.”

He scoffed, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you turned to leave. “Only the best Verstappen.”

The dinner went really well, but you weren’t expecting it to be a continual thing.

And then Charles won in Monza the next week, and he once again asked you to dinner. And once again, the Monegasque set expectations higher than you every imagined. You were saddened when Charles wasn’t able to win any more races while your brother seemed to get better and better each race.

You could only giggle while you watched them still avoid each other in Singapore.

But, the dinners turned into texting, and texting turned to other dates, and dates turned into dating, and dating turned into a relationship, and the relationship turned into an almost five year commitment that you or Charles weren’t planning to end soon.

The relationship saw your brother become a world champion in 2021, Charles becoming a world champion in 2022, and you joining the grid as a rookie for McLaren after a disastrous attempt for an Alpine seat.

Charles had been furious and Max had almost found out about the relationship. The two of you were still scared that Max might hold some coldness for the past. But when he called Charles “Charlie,” the special nickname that you had for him, you thought that it might be a good idea to tell him.

“But mon ange, he will run me off the track if he finds out,” Charles whined into your stomach as you played with his hair before the Miami Grand Prix.

You rolled your eyes and tugged at the strands. “No he won’t. You have to worry about your teammate doing that to you instead.”

Another whine left Charles making you giggle.

“At least you’re starting on the front row. I have to start P5! Oscar has been making fun of me all weekend.”

The Aussie had been such a God send for you during your rookie season. The elder by a few months had taken you under his wing. The two of you had been so close to a win last year, and with the upgrades this weekend, you were sure that you or him would start on the front row.

And then you had to be hit during the sprint, which didn’t help the mechanics in the hours before the race quali. That in turn made your car feel weird and P5 was the best you could do. Maybe Charles was secretly transferring his unluckiness into you.

The Monegasque turned his head to look you in the eyes. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

“We’ll tell him when I win a race. How about that?”

Charles knew that you were just unlucky as he was when it came to winning a race. Last year, you had been close in Spa, but a rouge rainstorm saw you spinning out on the second to last lap. Austin you had pole, but Max fought you on into turn one, making you go wide. You never saw your brother after the first lap as you fell down the grid. Charles held you each night as you cried.

The red-clad-driver sat up and held your head in his hands. “You’ll win soon enough. Maybe not this weekend because I don’t have any time to prepare.”

You laughed and just brought him in to a kiss. There was literally no way you could win this weekend. Beating Max Verstappen with pole from P5 on a track that he had a 100% win rate at?

Impossible.

Charles thought he was going to cry as he crossed the line in P3. From you winning or having to tell your bother that he defiled his baby sister, he didn’t know.

What he did know was that he was going to get out of his car and congratulate you immediately. What were the odds that you won on the anniversary of the stupid inchident, the first time that Charles had ever seen you with Max.

(And yes, he did remember the anniversary but didn’t want to bring it up.)

You, however, were frozen in your car. You took some deep breaths as you took the steering wheel off, stood up a bit, bent to put it back on, and straightened, holding your pointer finger up. Your fists clenched as you raised them, automatically hearing the crowds roar when you waved.

A tug on your sleeve brought you down into Max’s arms. You were a bit disappointed that it wasn’t Charles, but that would be too obvious.

“YOU DID IT!” Max yelled in your ear, well, your helmet as you hadn’t taken the neon thing off yet.

You really didn’t want people to see the tear stains on your face. But right now, you’d just stay in the protection of your brother’s arms. When he let go of you, he lifted your visor, twin eyes meeting yours.

“You did such an amaz-”

“I’m dating Charles.”

Blink.

You took the moment of a frozen Max to turn to your team. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Dutchman was still stuck in his place as you got farther and farther away. You grimaced, knowing what was to come if Max and Charles met at any time when you weren’t there.

An arm around your shoulders brought you out of your head. The light blue caught your eyes, signaling that it was Charles. He patted your shoulders, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. You did feel a bit of pressure move your helmet, so he must have quickly smushed his face into the black swirls. A helmet kiss if you would guess.

You wanted to turn around to warn him of the imminent danger that was waiting for him in the form of Max Verstappen, but you were led away before you could.

Your fears immediately went away though when your eyes finally landed on your team. Helmet thrown to the ground, you made the decision to throw yourself at them as well. Your laughs could be heard as your mechanics lifted you higher as everyone seemed to want to congratulate you for their first win since Monza 2021, which you weren’t even on the team then.

When Charles stepped into the cooldown room, he could feel the awkwardness. It also didn’t help that Max was glaring at him from the corner. Charles was a bit worried. He thought that Max was fine with him now after they had both sort of mended their weird friendship during 2023.

He turned to you as you walked in, all sweaty.

Charles still thought you looked very pretty.

“Eyes off Leclerc.”

Charles froze in his place and looked between the siblings. He looked at you, then Max, then you, and then Max again. You winced, not looking him in the eyes. Realization flooded his body and he thought for a moment he was going to pass out.

“Mon Dieu.”

“We will be talking after this,” Max pointed, drinking from his water bottle, not taking his eyes off Charles.

When you were called to the little Jeeps, you quickly got into the bright pink Barbie-esque looking one, still buzzing from your win. Even if the two men behind you had put a damper on it.

Charles’s eyes only fixed on one of the cars, not even seeing the third one behind the second. He climbed right in, eyes closed as he sat down. However, his eyes shot open when the car tilted and a thigh was touching his. He gulped rather loudly, refusing to look to his right.

This was Vegas all over again.

Max kept his voice low. “When did it start?”

“2019. After Austria.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to get to know her more.”

“What was the reason Charles?”

The Monegasque sighed as he ran his hand over his face. “I was angry at you and wanted to get back at you somehow.”

He knew he was about to be punched on live television, but he continued hoping for redemption.

“But, I knew that was wrong. We didn’t even go out until Spa. And then again in Monza. And then it just happened.”

He turned to look directly at Max, knowing that he only had a few more moments before they had to go out onto the podium.

“Max I love your sister. I have the ring and everything. We’ve been happy for 5 years and have made it work. Please, she’s really all the good I have left. I would throw everything away for her. And-”

Max’s laughs stopped him from continuing. The Dutchman slapped a hand on Charles’s thigh, making him wince a bit.

The Red Bull driver’s eyes were crinkled with a smile as they pulled up to the parking spot.

“Just keep her happy, or I will run you off the track.”

“Y/n! I told you he’d threaten me!”

“Max!”

“Oh come on I did not!”

y/nverstappen4 has posted

y/nverstappen4 WE DID IT! P1 BABAYYYYYYY 🏆

nothing beats a podium with me on the top step surrounded by my boys 💙🧡❤️

liked by mclaren, team_quadrant, charles_leclerc, and 2,903,940 others

queeny/n LETS ACTUALLY GOOOOOOOOO

mclaren that's our girl 🧡 well deserved

lecstappenshipper this is basically a hard launch

y/nhaswins such a beautiful race y/n!!!!

charles_leclerc so so proud of you mon ange 🧡❤️ *liked by y/nverstappen4*

charles_leclerc celebrations tonight? 😈

y/nverstappen4 but of course

maxverstappen1 I know where you sleep leclerc 🙂

y/nverstappen4 DRINKS ON MAX TONIGHT

oscarpiastri YEAAHHHHHHH 🍾

maxverstappen1 what?

charles_leclerc thank you max ☺️

maxverstappen1 I NEVER AGREED TO THIS

oscarpiastri mega job mate 👊

y/nverstappen4 ossieeeeeee 👊 don't worry, you'll be up there soon! just gotta wrap your car in bubble wrap to protect it from evil ferrari 😠😤

charles_leclerc ☹️

y/nverstappen4 NOT YOU CHARLIE - THE OTHER ONE (LEWIS HURRY UP)

lewishamilton you don't think I'm trying 🤨

mcy/n she's so funny what the heck?? 😂

chefy/n we said - LET HER COOK

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

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lomapacks · 1 year

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COMMISSION! in the source link, you’ll find TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY gifs of the actor BRAD PTT in KILLING THEM SOFTLY (2012). all gifs were made by me from scratch, therefore i’d appreciate if they are not edited, redistributed, added to other gif hunts or claimed as someone elses. if you enjoy or plan on using them, please like or reblog the post. if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee!

#brad pitt gif pack #brad pitt gif hunt #gifsociety #rph #rpc #gif pack #gif commissions #rp commissions #fcxdirectory #userpabllo #usermina #userdevon #older fc #supportcontentcreators #thegifpackreblogs #mine*

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quietlyimplode · 8 months

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the language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: day 5 - It’s broken

Warnings: broken bones, nightmares

Word Count: 1.8k (gif not mine)

Summary: grief comes in many forms, sometimes it’s the things we didn’t or couldn’t do.

A/N: if you’re going through a rough week, know you’re not alone. <3

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

2012

NEW YORK

The plane is waiting for exfil.

Clint paces.

Natasha has been in the toilet for a long time.

“Nat?”

He knocks again.

She doesn’t answer.

“Nat?”

He has tried to give her space, but the concern is overriding.

He’d laid it all out.

Blonde hair.

Russian accent.

Natasha.

Dreykov’s daughter.

The woman was at the very least a widow.

What this all meant for Natasha; it was a lot.

On top of that, she was injured.

They’d reached the airport and she’d found the toilet straight away.

“I’m coming in,” he decides.

The door unlocks voluntarily, his words must have held conviction.

Clint pushes it open, and she sits on the toilet topless.

Red burns litter her side, not deep, just red.

Bruises adorn the other side.

Wounds on both sides, she moves slow, but he doesn’t think it’s the pain.

“You’re sure?” she asks.

“Yelena is here?”

Clint shrugs and nods.

“I think so.”

He motions for her to stand and turn.

“Nat, are your ribs broken? How did you land?” he asks, quietly, looking the the bruise, touching it gently and feeling her flinch.

“If she’s here, we have to go after her.”

Of course that’s her take away.

Her sister, probably brainwashed, under the control perhaps of someone, certainly working for someone else, and Natasha just wants to save her.

“We need to strap these,” he tells her even though she’s not registering anything, not the pain, or realisation; just that her sister is here.

The difficulty is that if he straps her ribs, he’s going to irritate the burns.

“Does it hurt?”

She looks to him.

“She’s alive, I couldn’t save her, I didn’t go after her, and now she’s here.”

He sighs.

He grabs the strapping tape and best he can, he straps what he assumes is cracked ribs.

Sad eyes look at him.

“She’s here, Clint, we have to help her.”

He doesn’t answer.

Yelena just tried to kill her and all Natasha wants to do is help.

“We should go,” he says softly, motioning to the plane.

“But if you don’t want to, I’ll follow you.”

Natasha stares at him.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

They speed to the only other airfield in the surrounding area, assuming that if anywhere, Yelena’s exfil may come and get her from there.

There’s no one there when they arrive and Natasha asks to stay and wait.

Clint agrees, their plane long since gone, it doesn’t matter now, they’re traveling home in economy.

They sit in the car, Natasha clearly uncomfortable.

He sighs, handing her water.

“Where else would she go?”

Natasha shrugs.

“I don’t know, I don’t know her anymore,” she says sadly, “was it really her Clint?”

He sure hopes so, because the amount of hope he’s given her is slightly too much pressure.

“Describe her?”

He does the best he can, telling her he’ll tell it to Steve too so he can draw her.

She smiles at that, a strange idea but one that seems to calm her slightly.

“You need burn cream,” he mutters as she adjusts again.

“Do you think Fury will care that our surveillance mission has ended in the mark being killed?”

Clint smirks.

“Yes, but I think for once not our fault.”

Sunset is beautiful.

Red clouds are surrounded by even brighter orange ones, makes the sky burn bright.

“What are you going to say to her?” he asks tentatively.

“If she comes, what are you going to do?”

She moves tentatively, wounds and bones clearly sore.

“I’m sorry?… I don’t know. What do you say to a sibling for abandoning them. I’m sorry, doesn’t seem to cut it.”

Clint grasps her hand.

“You didn’t abandon her Natasha, you were physically ripped apart.”

Natasha doesn’t meet his eyes.

“But I didn’t go looking.”

He could tell her that she had her own difficulties, her own demons and challenges, her own route to go down; one that wasn’t easy, but he doesn’t think it would do much; and definitely wouldn’t absolve her of her guilt.

They’re silent in the car.

“She’s not coming is she?” Natasha says as the night turns into morning.

Clint doesn’t want to say no, but it’s as he feared.

She’s not coming.

They stay the night at a hotel in the city, their plane not leaving until the following night.

He’d called the mission in, and of course Tony had contacted back.

Clint wonders at what time he had hacked communications.

Tony had offered to send a plane, and then on a whim had upgraded them if they promised to come back to tower.

Clint had taken one look at Natasha and agreed.

What’s another month at a place they both feel safe?

He thinks sometimes on the lives he took, let’s it wash over him. Natasha has so much more on her hands, he wonders how she copes.

She stays in the shower for a long time, he thinks he can hear her crying but doesn’t comment on it as she exits.

He makes it a point to tell her it’s not her fault, as he redoes her bandages and rubs some burn cream they got from the the local pharmacy.

Clint crawls into bed and watches as she stares out the window, knowing she probably won’t come to bed.

Natasha doesn’t want to sleep, it won’t be restful and her unconsciousness will likely be worse than her thoughts are now.

She considers leaving Clint to go and find Yelena, but given her current state, she doubts that she would get far.

What she hasn’t told him, is that when the building exploded she managed to get into the bath, the shockwave of fire covering over her, the porcelain protecting the majority of her, but not enough as the roof had fallen.

Arms up, she’d felt the debris hit bone and she suspected that the bone in her left arm was broken.

It feels fitting.

Her whole body hurts, but it’s her being that hurts more.

She knows Clint is right when he tells her that it’s not her fault.

But she’s also right when she says she should have gone after Yelena, once she was free.

Not waited until aliens came to the world and her sister found her.

Fatigue pulls at her.

Against her better judgement, she closes her eyes curled on the couch, and drifts into a light sleep.

White dress, black veil, guns raised, Natasha advances forward.

Black dress, white veil, her doppelgänger holds the gun.

Striking first, Natasha’s movement is mirrored, they fight hard, even though neither gain the upper hand, strike after strike, they hit each other. Dresses ripped, veils used as makeshift nooses, they draw knives and use them as part of the dance.

Feigning right and swapping hands, Natasha twirls the knife and stabs hard, only to find she’s impaled her sister.

“Finally, huh?” she gurgles blood, “finally the one to kill me?”

Natasha stares in fright.

“No! Nononononono! What are you — Yelena!? Why??”

Hands cover the stab wound as she tries to compress the blood back in.

“I’ll save you. Okay!? Just hold on. I’ll save you.”

Yelena smiles an ugly smile, blood in her teeth.

“There is no saving me.”

The tower is exactly as they left it, and both Steve and Tony greet them as they arrive home.

Natasha retreats but Clint stays.

He clasps hands with Steve, moving to the kitchen together. Tony asks if Natasha’s okay, and he shrugs; vowing not to stay with the others too long as he needs to take her medical.

“I need some favours,” he asks.

Turning to Steve, he asks if he can draw him a picture from a description.

Steve agrees of course, but looks uneasy.

“It’s not like… bad is it?”

Clint laughs at his friend.

“Nah it’s not, it’ll help Nat though,” he tells him.

Steve seems to brighten at that, and leaves to get his pencils and a sheet of paper.

Tony nods up to the tower of residence.

“What happened?”

Clint sighs not wanting to tell Natasha’s story.

“How good are you at finding people?” he asks, mysteriously.

Tony frowns.

“I’m the best, why?”

Clint smirks.

“I thought so. Think you can find some people for me?”

Tony smiles back.

“It’s be my pleasure.”

He enters the room, finding Natasha sitting in the corner, blanket on her lap.

“What did you tell them?”

He produces a picture and hands it to her.

From the change in her face, he knows the run in was with Yelena.

Gently, she stokes the side of the picture.

“Steve?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “he’s not half bad huh?”

“It’s her,” she sniffs, biting her lip.

“Tony?”

“He’s got some work to do.”

Clint sits close to her, squeezing in tightly.

“I asked him to look for Barney too, whilst he’s at it.”

She rests her head on his shoulder, clutching the picture staring at it.

“Do you think he’s out there too?”

Clint feels his heart sink like it always does when he thinks about Barney.

He wants so badly to say yes but he pauses and chooses not to answer.

“Did you know his actual name is Charles? He’d punch me when I’d call him it and get so angry. No one really knew, and even the teachers wouldn’t mention it.”

Natasha shakes her head against his shoulder.

“Barney was his second name?”

He nods.

“Charles Barney Barton.”

Natasha adjusts and then lays back against him.

“Sometimes I wonder if my name was always Natasha. I wonder if her name was always Yelena; or if they named us, gave us names they thought would fit in.”

She sighs heavily.

“Sorry.”

He kisses the top of her head, his heart sore at all her unknowns and all of his.

“Either way we’ll have some answers huh?”

She turns to him.

“If the outcome is not what we want, if we find them, and they’re… not who we… not what we..”

“If they can’t be a part of our lives?” Clint supplies.

“Mm yeah, if they can’t be that… do we still do it?”

“Do what?”

“Marriage,” Natasha mumbles.

He can’t help the laugh that bubbles up.

“I don’t know. Do you want to? We promised when we were at deaths door but never really spoke about it more. Is it something you want to do?”

She considers the question and nods.

“I want to be with you. Only you. You are mine, and I am yours.”

She says the words like Clint says them to her when she asks him if he loves her.

“Then we better get on with finding them, hmm? Before more aliens come.”

She smiles.

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

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tequilatime · 5 months

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Killing Them Softly (2012) (Dir. Andrew Dominik) (DoP. Greig Fraser)

it's not a country, it's a business

#killing them softly

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stevetonyweekly · 1 year

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SteveTony Weekly - April 16th

Here’s what I’ve read this week! I spent a little bit of time in the world of polyvewngers, so it’s shorter than normal but--enjoy!! Give your authors a comment & kudos as you read!

~*~

Initiative Test Prep by plingo_kat

A day in the life of Steve Rogers, SAT tutor.

Drawing From Life by kdm103020

In which Steve cannot stop himself from drawing a certain someone.

Touchy Feely by MusicalLuna

After an encounter with Justin Hammer, Tony starts to feel—and act—strangely.

two for the show by meidui (orphan_account)

Tony is forty-five years old when he doesn’t believe in soulmates anymore.

lay your soul bare, your armour down by meidui (orphan_account)

“Now that you’re standing here, I just realised,” Zemo says softly, menacingly. “There’s a bit green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.”

Steve is filled with an eerie dread as it occurs to him that Zemo was never after Bucky. He was after Steve.

The flecks of green in his famous blue eyes aren’t flaws. Dishonesty is a flaw. He thinks Zemo knows what he’s been keeping from Tony, and Steve is suddenly hyperaware who he’s trapped in this chamber with.

one more moment of this silence by Red (S_Hylor)

Tony can see ghosts. Not just any ghosts, but ghosts of people how haven't found peace yet, or refuse to. Ghosts of people whose bodies have never been found.

The closer to their bodies he gets, the more he sees them, an ability, or a curse, that he uses to help the police find body's of missing people.

It's never easy.

The Truest Story Never Told by Veldeia

To pass the time as they wait for rescue in the Catacombs of Paris, Tony tells Steve the story of how he ended up with the repulsor pump.

Afternoon Delight by greyduckgreygoose

Tony watched with narrowed eyes as Rogers nodded politely to Natasha. They exchanged quick, familiar smiles, which suggested that they knew each other better than the acquaintances they seemed to want Tony to think they were. Up close, Rogers was even more attractive than he had appeared on camera, a touch of blonde stubble along his jaw, large square hands.

He also had a nice ass, not that Tony was particularly staring.

“Mr. Stark,” Natasha said, as they both stood before Tony’s desk. “May I introduce Steve Rogers? Or, if you prefer, Captain America.”

Degrees of Separation by plingo_kat

Oh god, what if Jarvis infected Dummy with, with emotions. Jesus Christ.

I've got you under my skin by sirona

Five times Beijing 2008 Olympics Gold Medalist Tony Stark thinks it's going to be no more difficult a job to get ready for London 2012, than what he has just achieved. That is, of course, before Coach Fury comes to visit, and offers him a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be a part of something much bigger than himself. Swimming AU.

None of This is Righteous Anger by Catchclaw

“Shut up, Sheriff,” Tony says, both his fists in Steve’s shirt now, that tin star poking, his heart a dead pound in his throat. “Unless your next sentence is let me take you to bed, because otherwise, you can go straight to hell.”

While Everyone's Lost (The Battle Is Won) by jukeboxhound

Steve closes his eyes in 1945 and wakes up in 2012.

Well. They certainly didn’t put that on the recruiting poster.

Prototype Automated Neuro-Tactile Unit 0 - New York Labs by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)

ANT-0-NY is one of a kind. The man that programmed him was killed before his code could be duplicated, and for all that his later owners have tried, no one can get the code out of ANT-0-NY's head. So he gets sent off to work instead, putting his considerable talents to work for the police department. The only issue is that his partner seems to routinely forget that he's just an android.

not so different, you and i by Anonymous

Three years ago, the idea that Tony Stark being one of her best friends would have been something she’d laugh at.

Not even laugh- she’d have given whoever suggested it a dry look and changed the subject.

Dreaming Electric by jukeboxhound

New York City is still rebuilding in the wake of the Chitauri army when the biotech virus Extremis is released, upgrading a lone domestic terrorist into a posthuman threat. Tony would’ve been happy to keep going on playing with alien tech in his lab, saving average citizens as Iron Man, and pretending not to notice these other people moving into his tower, but sometimes a person just can’t have nice things.

#stevetony weekly #stony weekly #stony #stevetony #stevetony fic rec #stony fic rec #fic rec #rec list #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain america

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nihillist-blog · 1 year

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Killing Them Softly (2012)

#Killing Them Softly #Andrew Dominik #Brad Pitt #James Gandolfini #Ben Mendelsohn #Scoot McNairy #Richard Jenkins #movie caps

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movie-shots · 11 months

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Cogan : Killing Them Softly - Andrew Dominik (2012)

#cogan killing them softly #andrew dominik #movie #film

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myawesomemovielist · 10 months

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my awesome movie list of 2012:

the master (dir. paul thomas anderson)

lincoln (dir. steven spielberg)

this must be the place (dir. paolo sorrentino)

killing them softly (dir. andrew dominik)

les miserables (dir. tom hooper)

django unchained (dir. quentin tarantino)

rust and bone (dir. jacques audiard)

cloud atlas (dir. lana wachowski & tom tykwer & andy wachowski)

moonrise kingdom (dir. wes anderson)

the place beyond the pines (dir. derek cianfrance)

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violetmuses · 2 years

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Somethin' Special - Holder

TITLE: “Somethin’ Special” || Stephen Holder

FANDOM: “The Killing” (AMC/Netflix Series)

CHARACTER: Homicide Detective Stephen Holder

PAIRING: Female Reader + Stephen Holder

MAIN STORYLINE: On a bad day, Stephen tries to help you feel better.

Author’s Note: Hey! Wrote this one for myself, but I hope that someone else feels better, too. Feedback would be greatly appreciated and thanks so much for reading my work as always. - V. 💜

Main Masterlist 💜

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96 @mayhem24-7forever @fangirl0917 @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @sugapapichulo @hodgepodge-of-rog @ijustthinkrickflagisprettyneat @ed-baldwin

_______

2012

Something didn’t feel right.

You usually contact Stephen almost every morning to say hello, but it’s far past 10:00 AM. For the first time in a while, you haven’t pinged his phone once. Maybe your cell was dead. You haven’t even responded to his own voicemails or text messages.

Holder’s clothed knee nearly trembles over and over below the desk until he can’t take this anxiety anymore.

Despite furrowing her brow, Linden can’t bring herself to leave as well. Too much paperwork swamped this week and Lieutenant would’ve kicked their asses if something hadn’t been done regarding so many cases this time.

Across this cramped space, Stephen gathers his flimsy raincoat and bolts right out of their shared precinct office. He needs to figure out what the hell is going on with you. For all he knows, a worst-case-scenario could’ve landed you in the hospital.

_______

Knocking on that front door and ringing the bell too many times didn’t even work, but he knows that one extra key hides. It’s located right underneath the welcome mat settled near your porch.

Use it, no matter what. You had told him. It will be the first time that he’s ever walked through without you opening the door for him.

The door creaks open and he settles that key into one small bowl that perches on a table in the foyer, just in case.

“Yo! Y/N?” Stephen calls out to you, but your pretty living room is quiet. Too quiet.

Even that beloved kitchen space hasn’t been touched, not even revealing aromas of your favorite meals. Take out boxes haven’t perched onto the counters, either.

He knows damn-well something isn’t right because food is your saving grace, whether you start cooking or not.

And yet, he finally notices your “hiding spot” when the bedroom door is left slightly open. The door is ajar just enough for him to see a bit inside.

From this angle, the television is on, but you’ve turned away from that screen and are probably half-asleep.

Out of precaution to avoid spooking you, he unties his sneakers and sets them down just a feet away from the door, knocking softly once more.

In that moment, you finally recognize the man sitting on the edge of your, weighted even further down because of this added level.

“Hi.” You rasp through lidded eyes, hardly awake, but still try sitting up to face him.

“Hey, Mama. You didn’t text me this morning, so I thought something was wrong. You okay?” Stephen scoots his thin body further onto the covers, not even caring if he ditched work to see you.

“I’m not under the weather or anything, but…” You trail off. Stephen notices how red your eyes look, as if you’ve been crying all morning.

“What happened, girl, huh?” Stephen reaches out and caresses your face, laying on his side without a care in the world. Your eyes. He loves your eyes so much, but his heart breaks as tears water them.

“Do you still love me?” You struggle to bring up that question, but it’s still the truth. Things have been so hectic with life for you both that maybe you shouldn’t even be together anymore.

“Always.” He kisses the top of your head, moving all the way down until your lips meet his. “It doesn't matter what I’m doing, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” You say, now letting Stephen wrap both arms around you and cuddle. He feels so warm, you can’t even remember how long it takes to sleep again.

_______

Not long after that terrible day in bed, you stand in the bedroom mirror and check your outfit. It’s one of one the few occasions that you’ve worn a dress and heels. Hair looks cute and makeup looks decent, especially considering how Seattle rain dampens your mood.

“There’s my lady.” Stephen looks at you while standing in the doorway. You smile for the first time in days.

From this angle of your mirror, you notice that he looks great as well. One rare dress shirt has covered inked tattoos that always drive you wild. Dark slacks clothed his legs. His blondish is cut shorter and one suit jacket draped over his arm.

“You look so handsome. Where are we going?” You beam, slightly adjusting Holder’s tie as you turn to face him.

“Uh-uh. No clues.” Smirking for a moment, Holder slyly brings one devilish finger to your lips. In return, you nearly want to forgo whatever date night he planned.

“You should stop acting like that before we end up staying here.” You tease him and kiss his cheek, gathering your clutch purse and heading out the bedroom door.

It’s no secret that he follows you down the hallway and whistles downward, scoping those hazel eyes to watch your figure move in that dress. He remembers secretly buying it for you as a birthday present and your own joy later made him happy.

________

At the restaurant, both of you are smart enough not to drink alcohol in public because Stephen drove. Regardless of no alcohol, laughter fills the space between each of you at the table and your smile, that returning smile, looks adorable.

Dinner is great and conversation is perfect, but his nerves come back for a moment as he recalls why tonight should take place at all.

He knows exactly what rests within his back pocket. He purchased it shortly after your birthday and kept this secret for quite some time.

Yet, what happened not long ago at your house stirred something within him.

Now or never. You need to know how much he loves you. In Stephen's opinion, his question would be an ultimate form of proof.

He makes sure that the bill is already paid for and that tonight’s server left. He then takes your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours, smiling.

“Hey.” His voice is low, but you realize how joyful he looks.

“Hey,” You repeat after him and smile back, almost hiding your face through quiet chuckles. “Thank you for tonight.”

“No problem.” He replies grateful for you . These moments are rare between you and him, so this evening feels even more wonderful. “Can we talk about something?”

“Sure?” You answer, smoothing his slightly calloused knuckle as both of you face one another.

“Look, I know things ain’t been easy for us, but you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you.” Stephen responds, but slowly moves his hand away from yours before gently standing up from the table.

Oh my… Your thoughts zip from shock to joy as he gets down on one knee and shows this beautiful diamond ring.

“I love you, too.” You trail off, finally realizing his movements. He’s standing in the middle of this carpeted floor near the table and pocketing his dark slacks, mostly reaching into one side.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” Through clouded vision, he utters your full name and pulls himself together, showing just enough strength to ask the question. That question.

“Yes, Stephen.” You nod feverishly, giving Holder time to slip the ring onto your finger before nearly jumping into his arms.

Every day might not be perfect or simple, but at least you’ll have each other, now and forever.

#slight angst #stephen holder x female reader #stephen holder x reader #stephen holder x you #the killing fan fic #the killing #the killing fanfic #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman fanfiction

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books-apples-socks · 2 years

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the issue with 'blonde' (2022) isn't SIMPLY that it's seemingly highly exploitative and untrue. it's a movie based off a novel, based off an image, based off a persona, based off ... the list goes on. a much better received straightforward film that is picking at her corpse with the same callousness but without the decency to acknowledge its fictionality already exists in the form of 'my week with marilyn' (2011). no. the true issue with 'blonde' (2022) is that while every other andrew dominik film is preoccupied with deconstructing myth, mythos, and mythmaking in the same way his newest one is, their ('chopper' (2000), 'the assassination of jesse james by the coward robert ford' (2007), 'killing them softly' (2012), to say nothing of the actual documentaries on nick cave's life) narrative is - because he is - if not in love with, then at least full of respect for, the deconstructed male character. he has none for marilyn monroe.

#and i say this as someone who has LOVED his work in the past #i mean there he was naming a movie after a folk song that created the myth the movie is based on and then #in that same movie #has one of the composers (nick cave) sing the song as a stray singer in the movie #the song the movie is based on #the song the movie is deconstructing #but #the freedom in deconstructing male icons of masculinity turns into freedom of exploiting an already exploited corpse #when it comes to THE icon of modern feminity #i'm tired #marilyn monroe #blonde #netflix

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ducknotinarow · 1 year

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Snippet thing. Raphael (2012) reflects on his father's death.

Dose it ever get easier? He wondered as he looked at the screen door that separated Splinters room from the rest of the dojo. Recalling all the times that door slide open and Splinter was just there.

He's not now. Yet he still sitting here as if Splinter will just open it and call him in to talk.

He can't do that. He won't ever do that again. They weren't close, but he was still hus dad in every sense of the word. He gave Raph advice, and Raph wished he had taken it more often than he had. It just didn't always work. Letting things roll off his shell like water. It always felt like if he did that, the water would build and drown him. So he let fire burn and evaporate it all away to nothing instead.

Splinter won't be there to correct his form anymore, either. Not that he had since he was a tot. Stepping over to gently set his hands on Raph. Adjusting his arms or pointing out where his feet needed to plant down for better balance. Not that Raph always cared about form. He kind of wished he listened more on how to do them right. Raphael was to busy trying to be faster than Leo. Finish before Leo, win fights better than Leo even. Seemed all so stupid right now how much time he spent so focused on that.

He just wanted Splinter to see his worth too. See he was just as good as Leo. Ego made him often take that up a notch to better than Leo. He couldn't be a leader though humbled finally when almost getting his brothers killed. Thought his job was to protect and he made sure to stick to that. Make sure everyone always made it back home.

Splinter didn't though.

Leaning forward he let his forhead gently rest to the thin paper of the screen door. Letting eyes shut a moment. The way one knew Raph loved them as much as a son could was with the dumb childish thought he still was carrying. That Splinter would just come back. Everytime they lost him before. No matter what he came back they always found him or got him back no matter what. Even if Raph at times would expect the loss as is. Maybe because it was real for once. But he swore when he stepped into the dojo just now he heard thier voice.

"Raphael"

The name his father gave him, named after a reneassainace artist. He looked it up and would ask Splinter about them during late night talks no one knew he had with his father. Sometimes, after a fight with Leo. They talk about pretty much anything Raph would allow. Or they sit in quite together. Not like this. Raph couldn't hear thier resting breath or the way thier ears would flick when deep in thought. He didn't like going to the grave. This is where Splinter was to him. It's why he came here so much now. But he feared sliding the door open because he knew. They wouldn't be on the other side anymore. So easy to take advantage of the fact he would have just always been there before.

"The reason I always brood in the water. Is cause of somethin' ya told me. mizu ni nagasu, let it flow. I thought you told me let it soak. So I started sittin' in the water when I got real upset." He laughs softly at that sniffling a little as he rubs at one of his eyes.

Letting it drop soon after lifting his head up to trail his fingers over the door. "I couldn't make you proud when alive. I promise I will now...dad."

#muse| hamato rapheal #[2012 verse]#tw: depression #tw: death mentioned #(( mostly just for myself))

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vanillashusband · 2 years

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Non-Imaginary Friend

Word count: 2445 words Fandom: TM.NT 2012 Relationship(s): Jay & Mikey (Platonic/Familial) A/N: Short little platonic fic with Mikey detailing how I met the turtles! ; w ; I used dreamily ai to help write it cause I wanted to test it out, so if it feels a little different from how I usually write that’s why! The ai was pretty good and offered more options than most writing ais I’ve seen

Mikey sat at the kitchen island with his brothers while they ate their usual dinner of pizza. Leo, Raph, and Donnie all chowed down on their slices of pepperoni pizza but Mikey was busy playing a video game and hadn't touched his food. While Mikey wasn't looking, Raph easily stole the slice from his plate that had grown cold. The three brothers had begun to take notice of Mikey's lack of appetite since he usually was the one who ate the most and his love of pizza was almost unmatched. It had been this way for a few weeks. Donnie, Raph, and Leo exchanged a silent glance when Mikey still hadn't noticed the stolen pizza slice. "Mikey, aren't you hungry?" Leo asked. "Nope! I ate already." Mikey replied. The younger turtle swayed around in his seat as he played his video game, sticking out his tongue in concentration. "Wait, did you get pizza when you were out without us?" Donnie questioned. Mikey looked away from his video game for a moment. "No. I went over to Jay's place and we had 'less-awn-ee-ah' for dinner." Mikey said, his eyes quickly sliding back to his game of Asteroids. Leo and Donnie looked confused while Raph rolled his eyes. "What?" Donnie said. "Less-awn-ee-ah?" Leo repeated uncertainly. Mikey glanced over the top of his game system at his brothers with a smug look. "Yeah. Jay made it for me. It's like pizza but layered in a deep dish. Jealous?" He said with a grin. "Oh, brother, with his imaginary friend again." Raph muttered in annoyance. "Jay's not imaginary!" Mikey huffed. "If you say so." Raph retorted, smirking at Mikey before turning back to his slice of pizza. "I swear you're just jealous because I have a new cool human friend and you don't! Just like last time!" Mikey said. "Mikey, the last human friend you had worked for the Shredder and tried to kill you." Donnie reminded. "Yeah, so an imaginary human friend is a total upgrade." Raph jeered. Mikey pouted as his brothers laughed at him, he crossed his arms and scooped up his handheld game system and walked off. They still didn't believe him! "Whatever! I'm going out to hang with my totally real human friend Jay!" Mikey shouted back at them. The youngest turtle picked up his skateboard on his way out and left to traverse the surface. As soon as Mikey got outside, he climbed the nearest building and hopped onto his board. He rode on the roofs, jumping from building to building to keep out of sight until he reached Jay's apartment. Mikey quietly climbed down the fire escape. The curtains were drawn over the window but a warm light emanated through them. He knocked softly on the glass and waited for an answer. A moment later, the curtains were pushed away to reveal an older man. He had dark hair, its color became salt and pepper near his ears and temples, and he wore big glasses. The man smiled when he saw Mikey waving at him, and he unlocked the latch and opened the window. "Hey kid, back so soon?" Jay greeted. "Yep!" Mikey said excitedly. "Well, come inside then. I was just doing some midnight cleaning." Jay said. Mikey slid inside across the threshold and into the apartment. Jay closed the window behind him and went back to cleaning while Mikey dropped his skateboard and flopped onto the couch. The apartment was small but cozy and it was kept tidy. It wasn't super boring for Mikey to visit because Jay had plenty of video games to play on systems he didn't even know existed until now. The graphics were mind-blowing! But sometimes they made him feel a little motion sick. "So, how are things?" Jay asked as he swept the kitchen tiles. Mikey frowned a little and sighed. Seeing Mikey looking down, Jay leaned his broom against the wall and came to sit down beside the turtle boy. "Is everything alright, bud?" He said gently with concern. "Yeah," Mikey replied, his voice sounding a little gloomy. "You sure? You sound kinda down." Jay pointed out. "It's just... my brothers don't believe me when I tell them that you're real!" Mikey responded. Jay raised a brow in confusion. "They don't think I'm real?" He questioned. "Yeah, they said I made you up 'cause they can't believe that I made a nice human friend." Mikey pouted. Jay chuckled and patted the young turtle on the head. "Aw, well, that's what it's like being the youngest sometimes." He said. "They'll believe I'm real once we all meet. What does your Sensei think?" Jay asked. Mikey got a bit nervous and began playing with his fingers. "Well... I haven't exactly told him about you yet..." Mikey replied sheepishly. Jay blinked and then sighed, he stood up from the couch and put his hands on his hips disapprovingly. "Mikey, I thought I told you to get permission from your dad before you came back here. You know how I feel about you being here when your parent doesn't know me." He said sternly. "But you're nice! You're nothing like Rad Brad!" Mikey argued. "That's not the point, kid. You can't just run off with someone you barely know because they're nice. I know you're capable of defending yourself but you could still get hurt. Like what happened with your first human friend, Rad Brad." Jay said. Mikey frowned. He knew Jay was right and it felt like he was being lectured by Master Splinter, albeit Jay was a little gentler than Splinter was. "I know," Mikey replied. "Sorry, Jay." He apologized. Jay nodded and he smiled. "It's alright. But in any case, I think I should go meet your father to explain things." He said. Jay picked up his coat and put it on before walking to the fridge to grab something. Mikey got up from the couch in surprise. "Wait, right now?" He said. "Yes, right now." Jay replied. He took out a square glass pan from the fridge and held it under his arm. "I don't want your family to freak out and come here ready to beat me up because they think you're in danger." Jay said. "Man, I could have introduced you to them sooner. Why didn't I think of that?" Mikey wondered. Jay cracked a smile. "Yeah, why didn't you?" He grinned. Mikey rubbed the back of his neck bashfully and shrugged. "I guess I kind of forgot." He said. Jay laughed and handed Mikey the dish while he put his keys into his pocket and headed to the front door. The young ninja recognized the food in the dish and his mouth began to water slightly. "Oh boy, less-awn-ee-ah!" Mikey said excitedly. He attempted to lift the cover to start eating but Jay lightly slapped his wrist to stop him. "Uh-uh. That's a gift for your family. And it's pronounced 'lasagna', honey." Jay informed. "Okay, okay." Mikey laughed. "Now, come on, let's get going." Jay said, pulling open the door. Mikey grinned before leaving the apartment so Jay could lock the door behind them. Once outside, Mikey guided Jay to the closest sewer grate and helped him down into the network of tunnels below.

Jay's nose scrunched up at the horrid smell and used his sleeve to cover his face. Right... the sewer. He forgot that's where Mikey and his family lived. As soon as Mikey jumped down to the concrete floor, he immediately started running toward his home. "C'mon Jay!" He called excitedly as he ran. Soon enough, they reached The Lair. Mikey stood there quietly beside Jay while he waited for his brothers to notice them, his eyes wide and anxious. Raph was reading a magazine on the couch and Leo was entranced with his favourite show while Donnie was writing something on the kitchen island. Mikey seemed uncharacteristically nervous. He wasn't afraid of what his brothers would say, if anything he was happy to show them up, but he was more worried about what Splinter would say. He hoped that he wouldn't be grounded for this. Jay lightly bumped Mikey with his elbow and offered a reassuring smile. Mikey smiled back. He clung to Jay's arm and cleared his throat loudly to get his brother's attention. "Hey guys, check it out!" He said cheerfully. The turtles turned their heads around and looked surprised to see their youngest brother standing with an adult man they didn't recognize. The three ninja turtles immediately stopped what they were doing and jumped to their feet. "Wh-what? Mikey, who is that?!" Leo demanded. "He's Jay," Mikey explained smugly. "And he's real!" He said. Jay snickered a little and he waved casually. "Howdy." He greeted. The three turtles stared at him in disbelief, seemingly unsure of what to do, as Jay walked further into the lair, the orange-clad turtle trailing close behind him. "Shell head, what were you thinking, bringing him here!?" Raph growled. "Well, you guys didn't believe me!" Mikey piped up. Jay opened his mouth to further explain things but he was cut off by a calm but firm voice that immediately quieted the room. "Michelangelo." Splinter said seriously. Everyone looked up to see Master Splinter standing at the entrance to the living area, a jade cane in his hands. Jay was a little surprised. Mikey had told him a little about his Sensei but he didn't expect a big humanoid rat. He had thought Splinter would have also been a turtle. The young turtle looked at his Sensei and swallowed nervously, shifting awkwardly beneath his gaze. Splinter's icy stare travelled to Jay. "Who is this?" He questioned. Though his tone sounded pleasant, Jay could tell Splinter was suspicious of him. He tried not to become intimidated due to the rat's height or appearance and calmed his nerves. "Um... this is my friend Jay." Mikey said quietly. "It's nice to finally meet all of you." He began, "I'm sorry to come here unannounced but I wanted to meet you in person. Mikey was supposed to tell you about me, but it slipped his mind, and I didn't want him visiting me unless he had your permission." Jay said. Splinter looked to Mikey. "Michelangelo, is this true?" He asked. Mikey hesitated before nodding slowly. "Yes, Splinter." He replied. The rat glanced back up at Jay, then motioned his hand to invite him into the lair. "Come, let us speak privately." He said. After a brief moment of hesitation, Jay complied and followed Splinter away from the turtles. He handed off the lasagna to Mikey. Mikey and his brothers remained in the living area somewhat tensely as the paper screen to the training room closed behind Jay.

Jay sat down on a provided pillow and tried to mimic Splinter's posture by sitting on his knees out of respect. Splinter stroked his long white beard and examined Jay closely. "So tell me, how did you meet Michelangelo?" He queried. Splinter's voice was calm and authoritative as usual but the look in his eyes betrayed his concern. Jay could understand his weariness. "Well, one night, I was feeding the stray cats around my building when something fell into the dumpster in the alley. Turned out it was Mikey. He had been goofing off and fell from the roof. He scared the hell out of me but after he calmed me down, we talked a little, and I bandaged him up since he scrapped himself when he fell." Jay explained. "Since then, he's been visiting me and we've become friends." He said. "I see." Splinter replied simply. Jay smiled a little to himself. "Y'know, at first, I didn't know Mikey had a family so I sort of tried to look out for him. He's a good kid." He mused. This made Splinter smile. He could see now that Jay had a good heart and was sincere. "What do you know about us?" Splinter asked. Jay blinked. "Mikey hasn't told me much." He answered. There was a pause. "Listen, if you're worried that I might tell someone about you or your family because well, being what you are, you don't have to worry about that. I won't tell a soul, you have my word." Jay said firmly. Splinter seemed to relax a bit. "Thank you, Jay. It pleases me to know you will keep our secret." He hummed quietly. "And I must thank you for looking out for my youngest son, Michelangelo." Splinter went on. "Of course, it was no trouble at all." Jay beamed.

When Splinter opened the screen door back to the living area, the pair saw the four turtles in the kitchen staring at them as they messily ate the lasagna right out of the glass dish with their hands. Splinter sighed heavily and covered his face with his hand. Jay laughed heartily and walked over to the group. "I see you're enjoying my gift. I'm glad you like it." He grinned. Mikey swallowed his mouthful of food and glanced at his brothers. "Told ya. Like a pizza but with layers." He chuckled, making a layering motion with his hands. "Alright, I guess we're sorry for not believing you about Jay." Leo muttered. Donnie and Raph reluctantly apologized as well, keeping their eyes on their food, and Mikey beamed. "Well then, since things have been straightened out, I should be heading home now." Jay said. Mikey dropped his now mushy half-eaten piece of lasagna into the dish making his brothers groan with disgust. "You're leaving so soon? Don't you want to stay for a while? I could show you around the lair!" He piped up. "Sorry bud, I gotta get home now. It's pretty late." Jay replied. Mikey quickly licked his fingers clean and wiped the sauce from his mouth. He rushed over and gave Jay a big hug. Jay blinked in surprise and paused before wrapping his arms around Mikey happily. "Will you come back to hang out?" Mikey asked hopefully. "That's up to your father." Jay answered with a glance to Splinter. "Please, Master Splinter, can Jay come back again?" Mikey pleaded. Splinter nodded. "You are free to visit whenever you like, but I ask that you be careful when coming here." He requested. "I will." Jay agreed. Jay gave the young ninja one last squeeze before he let go. "Alright, kiddo, I'll see you later." He said. "Bye!" Mikey called. With a final wave from Jay, he turned and left the lair. Mikey, Leo, and Donnie waved goodbye. There was a short moment of silence between them. "Wow," Raph said quietly after Jay was gone. "He was really real, huh?" He snickered.

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