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starfirette · 4 years

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fantasy | diana prince x reader

»a/n: 😈

»masterlist

» Diana Prince x Reader | sensitive Diana | fem x fem smut | lowkey angst | wordcount: 4,563

Your little London townhouse has a perfect view of the steelyards and its workers who slave away under a sunless sky. It’s your tradition to fall asleep to the sound of them packing up, then to wake up to the sounds of them beginning work again.

To say time passes slowly for you would be a grand understatement.

You tried many times to find happiness in the city, looking high and low in the most unseemly of places. No thing or person could make you happy these days. You sit at a desk most of your life, taking notes for a bitter old man who can’t ever say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Secretary positions are all the rage these days since it’s the only real way women can make money without signing away their soul and what little freedom that have to an angry, rich man. To be a wife is to be silent and gentle, even if you’re hot tempered by nature. If you were to marry, you would surely have to give up the outlandish dreams you have. You crave independence, freedom, true love; what woman doesn’t yearn for these things? Some women have the unsuspecting loophole to win a man’s affections and hope he will let them at least pretend they have rights.

This option is not one you can choose so easily. You have never had eyes for a man. When you are alone, lounging on your bed or soaking in the tub, you envision yourself in the arms of a woman.

That’s your deepest, darkest ‘secret.’ You badly want to live in a world where your desires of romance don’t count as a real personality trait or as a sin.

You’ve never uttered this secret to anyone, ever. How could you? What friends do you have that are loyal enough to keep that to themselves?

Conversion therapy frightens you a good deal more than a heterosexual marriage. And that’s saying something.

There are plenty of times where you feel completely alone, stranded in silence, and forced to live in your cramped, London townhouse, where the wind whistles through the cracks of the walls and the floorboards creak anxiously. Even in your own home you feel trapped.

The only escape are your books, which you come upon rarely enough as it is. Your books aren’t the type of books women read. Your books are textbooks. Some you’ve purchased under fake names or titles, as if you were shopping for your husband or father. Some you’ve stolen. But all are cherished by you.

The largest wall of your home is lined with weak shelving where you could display your texts happily. Almost proudly.

Ah, to have independence—to be free to study at a university, to do such good with talents reserved solely for a man. And how could they be? What makes you different from a man? You love women, like they do! You breathe, like they do!

It’s the curls of your hair that keeps you from achieving your dreams. The breasts and the curve of your hips which you are coerced into keeping hidden, even on the hottest summer day.

In your ideal world you’d live with a wife, with a few cats and dogs, and you’d be a real doctor of history. A professional, dedicated to her work of uncovering the truths of the world.

In your ideal world...

It doesn’t do good to live in a fantasy land. As cruel as your reality can be, it is the only reality you have. It is in this reality that you must crawl out of bed at five in the morning and be at the office no later than twenty after six, with a plate of pastries and a mug of tea ready for Mr. Landings.

A dreary winter day you leave your London townhouse dressed in a new, fine suit of buttercream cashmere. It had taken the majority of your yearly savings to purchase, but you figured if you cannot be granted the right to bury your head in a woman’s thighs, you can at least dress the way you’d like to.

It’s always best to wake up extra early to be at the front of the bakery line. The freshest breakfast treats sell out first thing of the bakery’s opening, and considering you buy for Mr. Landings, Mr. Trevor, Mr. Carber, and the two respective secretaries, you have no choice but to be at the front of that damned line. This morning the cost of your number three spot was your rouge and lipstick. You feel absolutely plain, but your fine suit cancels out most of the insecurity.

You managed to get a good number of items. On your way out you found most of the line to be other secretaries, dressed in their own cashmere suits and nervously tapping their heels. No doubt they were praying the bakery didn’t sell out of breakfast goodies. You tip your hat down to avoid meeting their eyes. You’ve had your share of failed food runs, and it’s never fun.

You run across the street, only able to take sparing steps as your heels wrestle against loose gravel. You arrive to the office at the perfect time, with your fellow secretaries Etta Candy and Julia Deneiros still in the process of unlocking the doors.

“Sorry I’m late,” you murmured to your work friends.

“You have nothing to apologize for when you have the breakfast, my dear,” Julia assured you.

As Etta got the doors open, Julia ushered you in first. You hurried to set the treasure down on the main desk of the office. Once that was out of the way, you started tea in the side room, then proceeded to settle at your ‘desk.’ It was a small slate of red stained wood, though the legs sometimes wobbled and creaked. Your telephone on the left, accompanied by the contacts you kept for Mr. Landings, hardly rang as Etta usually took care of every business call.

Emptying your pockets took hardly a minute. You set your coin purse and silver pocket watch on the wood before shuffling through the loose pages that cluttered your workspace.

The tea kettle lets out a whistle. Julia tended to it herself, and you softly muttered a ‘Thank you’ but she’d already been gone.

Around a nibble of croissant, Etta wondered aloud whether Mr. Trevor would be coming in today.

You shrug without looking away. "Perhaps he's gotten himself a lucky lady,” you suggested. Julia poured you a steaming cup of tea.

You half expected Etta to scold you, but she instead made a small sound of agreement. “I suppose he could have found himself an exotic bride!” Etta laughed.

Julia giggled like a school girl, choking on her words: “We mustn’t gossip!”

Even though she said as such, she couldn’t help but to entertain the topic. The two ladies remarked that Mr. Trevor would settle with one woman the day the sky turned green.

And for a moment, you agreed with them, humming softly into your tea before you took a cautious sip.

For a brief moment the world was just right—and then Mr. Trevor quite literally waltzed inside with a beautiful woman.

Now, beautiful couldn’t properly describe this woman. What you notice first was her lips, round and quirked as though she was seeing an office like this for the first time in her life. Her eyes sparkled with a million untold stories.

Also, she appeared to be wearing the strangest of costumes. A coat of black fur strapped close to her waist, but every step she took revealed flashes of bare legs. You could have fainted.

Etta only saw the face of her boss, and she cheered. “You’re not dead!” She exclaimed. She doted over the wrinkles of Steve Trevor’s suit before hitting him over the chest with friendly familiarity. “I did think you were dead, you know.”

You frowned. “No, you didn’t,” you mumbled halfheartedly. You made to your feet, shuffling over to greet Mr. Trevor. “Hello,” you said, nodding your head.

The young woman met your eyes and she smiled, showcasing her perfect, pearly teeth.

“I’m Y/n L/n,” you say, forcing yourself not to stutter. Etta introduced herself next, holding a hand out to the woman for a handshake. While that would have been proper, you find it’s rather scary to shake hands with attractive people.

“We ladies are Mr. Trevor and Mr. Landings’s secretary.”

She cocked a thick brow. “What is a secretary?” She has a thick accent, one you can’t quite recognize, but it’s rather musical.

“Oh, well, we do everything. Go where tells me to go, do what he tells me to do.”

The woman looked flabbergasted. “Where I’m from that’s called slavery!”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. Both you and Etta became large fans of the woman, who introduced herself as Diana. No last name, but she seemed so confident with the partial title that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.

“Would you like a cup of tea? Shall I take your coat?” You offered. Can we run away and get married and adopt lots of babies?

“Oh, thank you,” Diana beamed. She went to shrug off her fur, and you quickly stopped her when you saw what she had been wearing under it. Etta lurched to tie the coat up tight, making Diana grunt as the air was pushed from her lungs.

You laugh nervously, eyeing Mr. Trevor, who looked annoyed rather than surprised.

“Fantastic,” Mr. Trevor snubbed. “Ladies, would we care for a trip to, uhm, get Diana new...well, new…”

“Clothes?” You suggested when Mr. Trevor became clearly uncomfortable.

“Yes, that, thank you.”

“Mr. Trevor I would be more than willing to, but I do have to wait for Mr. Landings—”

“Nonsense, Miss L/n, Julia can manage on her own. Let’s just be on our way.” You gathered your few things, shoving your coin purse and silver watch deep into your pocket. “Sorry, Julia, dear,” you say. She shakes her head. “It isn’t a bother. Try to enjoy your day out of the office.”

You smiled and waved her goodbye before joining Mr. Trevor and the ladies.

Mr. Trevor inquired where you and Etta frequent for clothes. You suggested Paya’s Apparel, but Etta suggested Madame Penny’s Dresser. You tried not to take notice when Mr. Trevor sized your outfit up to Etta’s. He dubbed Etta’s suit no doubt fancier and declared Madame Penny’s.

Diana didn’t move her feet to follow. “What is the difference?” She asked. She asked you. You were caught at a pause. “I would think Mr. Trevor finds Madame Penny’s

more suitable for a...for you.” You awkwardly shoved your hands into the pockets of your skirt. You’d splurged on this suit. Or so you thought.

“Steve! Steve, wait, let's go to Pa-Papaya’s?” Diana asked you.

“Just Paya’s,” you giggle.

“Steve,” Diana continued, “I think Paya’s will do just fine.”

Mr. Trevor sighed heavily, as if he had been expecting something like that to happen. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Diana held a hand out. You looked at it fearfully. “We are walking together, so should we hold hands?” She asked. She went to wrap her hand in yours. Steve scrambled for Diana’s arm, pushing it down to her side. “No, no, no, don’t hold hands. When I said people hold hands when they’re together, I meant together as in married.”

Diana’s mouth rounded out as she said, “Oh!” She sent you an apologetic smile, to which you promptly looked away from. Looking her in the eye made you nauseous, more than you’ve ever felt before.

Away you were whisked to Paya’s. It’s a good center, with plenty of fashionable dresses. Admittedly it isn’t nearly as expensive as Mr. Trevor probably would have preferred. But it’s fashionable, affordable, even for you. It’s a large shop with dim lights behind brassy lamps and lanterns.

Diana looked around, her eyebrows raised practically to hairline. She approached a mannequin clad with a silky pink corset. She touched the material and frowned. “Is this what passes for armor in your country?” She asked.

You couldn’t quite imagine what she meant by armor.

“No, no,” Etta explained, “that’s what keeps our tummies in.”

Diana sent a sharp glance to Etta. “Why must you keep them in?” She demanded.

Etta repressed a few other comments. She settled with, “Only a woman with no tummy would ask such a question.”

“Why don’t we look around?” You suggest as Diana’s eyes wander for more things to poke at. You figure she’s never visited a London shop before. Where could she be from that has such different traditions?

“How about this one?” Etta suggested as she found a brown suit with a thick fur wrap. “Stylish, professional, but still good to wear for a night on the town!” Etta seemed thrilled with her sales pitch. You weren’t impressed. If Diana was to wear something, she should wear something more flattering. Of course Diana could wear a sheet of dirty canvas and still look stunning.

Diana tucked her hand into yours, catching your attention immediately. You looked to her, finding that her eyes were already fixated on you. “What do you think of this one?” She asked. She didn’t seem sure of her own choice. Your legs felt numb as Diana’s fingers tickled the top of your hand.

You quickly pulled away from her. “I think something like this would be better,” you suggested, turning to the first suit you could find. It was black, with a long skirt and a frilly kind of blouse.

Diana still seemed uncertain. Mr. Trevor begged her to at least give it a shot. Diana sighed. “I suppose I can,” she declared. She began to remove her coat. You got a longer glimpse at what was underneath it.

Etta darted like lightning to stop her. Once again Diana was gasping with confusion as Etta tied her coat shut tightly. “Come with me, dear,” Etta said, blotting the sweat off her forehead with her handkerchief. “We’ll find you a dressing room.”

Diana was ushered off with Etta, leaving you to recollect your thoughts. You stopped Mr. Trevor from following.

“Might I have a word, sir?” You softly asked.

“Of course.” He continued to look quite ill.

“It’s just that I did see what she was wearing, sir,” you began. You’d seen such similar armor in your stolen books. “Is she…?”

Mr. Trevor suddenly gripped you by the shoulders. He looked absolutely relieved. “So you know about them?! And the magic island? I don’t think I can handle it on my own, Y/n.”

You blinked a few times. “Did you say magic island?” You finally asked. “No, I meant is she Greek?”

Mr. Trevor recoiled, falling into a fit of coughs. “Absolutely, yes,” he said. “I’ll be...I need some water.”

You wonder what in the hell happened to Mr. Trevor for him to lose his usual composure. He’s been known to always have a witty remark for something, but today he’s entirely off his usual tempo.

You searched for Etta. She is speaking with the oncall saleswoman, who was in the process of explaining the most boring details of Diana’s selected suit. “Etta, Mr. Trevor bid me go ask you if you could pick out a few more outfits for Miss Diana to try.”

“Of course!” Etta said. “Stay and wait with her, please?”

“Done,” you promise.

Etta and the saleswoman took off to find more dresses and blazers for Diana. You looked around before darting back to the dressing rooms. “Diana?” You called.

A door opened promptly. “Hello.”

“H-hi,” you stuttered out.

Facing her was incredibly difficult. Her eyes literally seemed to sparkle with pure joy. Among that, her hair falls over her shoulders in loose, brown curls. Her coat is off, strewn behind her over a chaise. You can see her arrangement of weapons on the floor. Her armor, red and gold, has yet to be removed.

“I wanted to-to speak with you. About you.”

Diana moved aside for you to come in. You felt a bit uncomfortable. It’s not really wrong for you to be here. Any other woman wouldn’t mind helping Diana dress, and afterall, richer women have handmaids specifically for dressing them and even to bathe them. Diana may be a stranger but she’s warm and kind; she’s different.

She didn’t seem to bashful about her variety of weaponry. You’re mostly in awe.

“I’ve never known any female warrior before,” you muttered as you gave the sword a final glance. The hilt had strong patterns carved over it, and the blade looked razor sharp. A stab with that sword would feel completely painless at first, while the blade sliced through you like a ribbon.

“I am an Amazon,” Diana explained.

“Pardon me?” You asked.

“Warriors put upon the world by the gods. We are...well, a bridge to a better world. The guardians of mankind and all that is good.”

Oh, well okay. You weren’t exactly sure how to respond to that, considering it’s a bit crazy.

“You don’t believe me,” Diana says. “I cannot say I don’t understand. We have lived in secret for most of history.” She shrugged in her plates of metal. “I feared the world was under a bigger threat than it ever has been. That is why I left my people to join Steve Trevor.”

You nod. “Alright, I guess. While I’m hesitant to believe all of your story, I trust Mr. Trevor’s judgement.”

Diana smiled at that. “That is all I need.”

She gestured to the loose garments of purple you’d chosen for her before. “I hate to trouble you more than I already have. But I cannot understand how this is supposed to work.” She referred to the corset which ties up underneath every layer. “Oh, well generally someone can do it for you, but there are some that tie up in the front. Should I choose one of those for you?”

“No, that’s alright. I have you to help me.” Diana started to remove the plates of armor, starting with her thigh pieces. She organized her things very sternly, as if she were keeping a strict inventory log in her mind. For all you know she is.

She wrapped her arms over her chest to keep some modesty, but even so, even as you chant to yourself not to look, you felt your mouth become bone dry. You grabbed the corset and waved for Diana to turn around. She molds the front of the corset to her chest, using one arm to keep it in place while she used her left hand to move her hair. Your fingers dragged over her skin. She is so golden, so soft. The smell of soap and seafoam lingers.

You could easily dip your head down and kiss her neck.

You force the thoughts from your head. Trembling, you lace up the corset, hardly able to maximize your strength as you pull as tight as you can. Your limbs feel like phantoms. They move on their own while you bite back tears.

When you finished, you blotted your tears away with the inside of your wrist. “I’ll be leaving, now,” you tell her. “Good luck.”

Fleeing the room while Diana calls after you was the only way to save yourself. The need for Diana built up strong in your belly, as did the cloud of heartache in your chest. Your breath became restricted by the pain. You brushed past Etta on the way out of the store, briefly explaining you needed to leave and to send your apologies to Mr. Trevor.

What worries you most isn’t Mr. Trevor and Diana’s alarmingly fictional stories, or even Diana’s weaponry she keeps strapped to her body; it was the fact you had let Diana get to you. She messed with your brain without even knowing it, and now you couldn’t help but think how horrible your life is.

You briskly walked home. You fumble with your keys at the door, scraping the sides of the lock with the blade. Throwing yourself inside is the only thing that relieves you. This little house by the steel mills is your palace of your true nature. While you shiver at night and hear things creak, you can at least be yourself.

Typically you would calm yourself with a nap or a bath, but your nerves are far too shot.

You journeyed straight to your bedroom and kicked off your heels. Settling over the squeaky mattress with your lip caught in your teeth, you struggle to steady your hands enough so you can unbutton the top of your coat.

You lay back and slide your hand down your belly, poking through the band of your skirt. And you imagine…

You imagine yourself in that dressing room, your hands sliding down Diana’s smooth back.

You pressed the smallest of kisses atop her bare shoulder. The little hairs on her neck rise, her breath caught. She turns on her heels to face you, practically forehead to forehead.

She drops the corset to the floor, kicking it away without a care in then world. Her hand finds yours, and she holds it one more time, tickling your skin with the lad of her thumb. With a gentle smile, Diana raises your hand to hold one soft breast.

You palm and squeeze at her, feeling completely in awe of her beauty. Diana dragged you down to kneel with her on the floor. In the fantasy you lay not in a dressing room, but on a soft quilt. Where you are doesn’t matter; it’s Diana. Diana pushes you to your back, undoing the clips in your hair and massaging your scalp of the pain your tight bun left behind. She drags her fingers through your hair, then down your chest. She bows her head down, mouth catching your hard left nipple. Your right breast is tended to with her hand, while your left earns the attention of hee teeth, tongue, and lips. She leaves tender bruises over your chest, purring her affections and compliments into you.

Soon she trails her mouth down. Her long, dark hair drags over your stomach. Diana places herself just between your thighs, resting her weight onto one of her elbows.

With two fingers she spreads you apart to see your dripping cunt clenching with suspense. Diana presses a kiss to your hipbones. With a finger dipping inside of you, she catches arousal and swirls it around your hole, preparing to widen you out. Two of her fingers creep inside of you, curling up and pressing the top of your cunt’s walls, making you lurch your hips up against her face.

With a muscled arm she pushes your hips down, a hand digging into you to keep you in place as her lips pucker over your aching clit.

The bead pulsed with excitement as Diana pressed a gentle kiss against it. Her tongue poked out to swirl a small circle over your clitoris. You whined, wiggling your hips desperately to feel more of Diana.

Her fingers pumped in and out, scissoring apart and always tickling that magic spot deep inside of you.

Her tongue swirled faster and wider, occasionally taking breaks to ease the muscle, but her attention on you never failed.

Her cherry red lips sucked on your clit. She sang a sweet song into your cunt, the vibrations making your thighs tremble.

She made you cum hard over her fingers, which she stuck within her mouth to clean them.

As you wind down, she places her own two fingers at her own entrance, already slick with arousal. She lubricates her own clit, rubbing the bead for a few moments while gasping your name like a prayer. She roughly grabbed at your legs, spreading them apart so she could position herself at your cunt. She lowered carefully onto you, her warm pussy sliding against yours.

She forced one of your legs over her shoulder as she started to wiggle her hips. She murmured your name, casting her head back and closing her eyes. The movement was rhythmic and precise, your clit rubbing against hers sweetly. Tears bubbled in your eyes, blurring the vision of Diana’s face as she fucked you into the floor, her hips bucking faster, skin and cum mixing and slapping loudly.

Lewd moans fell out of your mouth as you cried out to Diana, begging her for more, to which she obliged. She thrusted faster, kissing the side of your leg that now trembled violently over her shoulder.

You whimpered when she sang your name, a warm smile still quirked on her lips.

You wanted to sink into the fuzzy blanket and stay there forever, being fucked blissfully by Diana’s hot, soaking cunt.

The intense orgasm brought you to the brink of sobs as Diana pushed your hips hard into the floor. “Fuck, yes,” you shout. You beg for it harder and Diana listens, giving you everything you could ever want.

In your fantasy you would cum twice. You would reciprocate the pleasure, flipping Diana over and crawling between her thighs. Her hand would weave in your loose hair, pushing your face deeper into her hips. Your tongue would dip into her entrance, lapping up her cum like it was honey. You would send wide stripes up and down her before using one finger inside of her—then two, then the third, as gently as you could. Her hips would be grinding against your face, her cum dribbling down your chin. She would whimper like she never has before, moaning your name mercilessly, because it doesn’t matter who heard.

Your fantasy ends.

Your fingers are soaked with cum and you move off your bed to wash your hands. You use a warm, damp cloth to clean the mess between your thighs. A part of you feels satisfied, but only the primal part. The rest of you feels sad. Lonely. You crawl into bed, still dressed in your new red suit. You wonder if Diana thinks you to be totally insane, considering how you had run away so abruptly. You worry that she knows, somehow, your secret. You want to know what she would think. What would she say if you ran to her, now, and confessed you wanted nothing more than to kiss her and be held by her muscley, tanned arms.

Despite it being the dead middle of the day, you stay in your bed for hours. Your telephone rings a few times, but you don’t bother. It could easily be your office calling to fire you.

Something within you no longer cares. Let them.

Leave this place, maybe, and find that magic island which Mr. Trevor had spoken of. It would be a land of freedom; freedom to study what you want, to kiss who you want—to sleep in past eight in the morning and not worry about the secretariat duties of providing breakfast.

If Diana is an “Amazon” then you want to be one too. For besides her blatant beauty, there was something about Diana that was incredible. Her smile, her eyes—she glistened with confidence. She knows who she is.

You know who she is, too.

She’s the love of your life, but of a life you will never get to have.

#diana prince x reader #diana prince #wonder woman x reader #wonder woman #dc #dceu #dceu imagine #dceu x reader #diana prince imagine #wonder woman imagine #starfirette writes #i wish queue well

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anna-lupin-black · 4 years

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I know I don’t write/post Smut on this account, especially not one that doesn’t involve Harry Potter characters, but whilst watching 13 Reasons Why; my love for Tony Padilla has corrupted me

A Rare Exception - Tony Padilla X Female Reader

Tony’s best friend finds herself falling for him. Little does she know his one exception for loving women just so happens to be her.

Written for a friend

Warning: SMUT, F/M Smut, Dom/Sub undertones

A/N: I do not ever agree with LGBT Erasure, but I do also acknowledge that Sexuality is a Spectrum; and there are Gay Men who do fall in love with women, it doesn’t make them any less gay, just as there are straight people who can fall in love with someone of the same gender as them, it doesn’t make them any less straight. This was a request I was given and will not read any hate on the subject. Constructive criticism is always welcome as long is it’s meant with the best intentions.

“[Y/N], get in the car.”

I turn around from talking to my best friend Alex; a boy with blonde hair who’s dark roots are already showing after having bleached it merely a month beforehand. Alex is thin, with deep blue eyes and an easy enough going personality. We’ve been friends since I transfered to Liberty High last fall.

The voice came from my friend, Tony. If I were to say I didn’t find him attractive, I’d be a bigger liar than anyone in this school; and if you know anything about the students in Liberty High, you’d know that was saying something. Tony has beautiful olive toned skin, carmel brown eyes, stylishly messy brown hair, a body of a machanic; because he is one, and tattoos that make him even more interesting than he already is. His eyes show a maturity well beyond our years, and his calm and level head is always welcome in our hot headed friend group.

The downside, he’s gay... and I’m a chick. So, definitely not his type at all.

“Tony, I’m supposed to go to the gym with Alex and Zach tonight... I told you that earlier when you asked if I had plans today?” I’ve been having a hard time being alone with Tony now that I’ve begun developing feelings for the Latino Machanic who stole my heart with how kind and selfless he is. We used to spend hours in his garage, I’d chat while he worked on cars for his Papá.

“We weren’t go-“ I elbow Alex in the ribs and shoot him a glare that plainly states for him to shut the hell up before I make him. It seems to work perfectly as he sighs and corrects himself by adding, “Oh, right. That was today, I must have forgot, brain damage and all.”

I roll my eyes as I turn back to Tony, “Ignore him, he’s an idiot.”

“Hey,” I shoot Alex another look and he just sighs.

“Where’s Dempsey?” Tony asks, pointedly.

I know my face shows a sudden look of uncertainty as I turn back to Alex, “Yeah... wh-where is Zach?”

Alex very obviously gives me the You Owe Me eyes before explaining, “He’s meeting us there.”

Tony raises an eyebrow at us, and I think we would have gotten away with our story if Alex’s dad; a man who looks alarmingly like the man who plays Lucifer from that TV Series, Supernatural, hadn’t pulled up rolled the window down and asked, “Ready to go to your follow up with the Doctor, Kid.”

Alex shrugs an apology at me before getting in the front seat saying, “Yeah, Dad.”

“Hey, [Y/N]. Do you need a ride home, its on the way?”

“No, Sir. I’m taking [Y/N] home today.” Tony speaks up. I hadn’t noticed him getting out of his car abd jump at rhe proximity of his voice. He’s now stood right beside me.

Deputy Standall eyes me and Tony for a moment before asking, “You alright, [Y/N]?”

I glance at Tony trying to ignore the heat his body’s giving off before faking a smile for Alex’s dad and saying, “Yeah, Tony’s an old friend of mine, he helped fix my mom’s car when we first got to town. I’m good.”

“If your sure.?”

I nod, “I am, thank you though. Say hello to Mrs. standall for me.”

“Will do.”

When they drive off Tony let’s the silence drag on a minute too long before he speaks up, “So you lied to me?” I look up at him, and my stomach clenches painfully at the obvious look of hurt on his angular face.

“Tony-“

“If you don’t want to spend time with me, tell me. Don’t fucking lie about it.” His voice is laced with the anger he keeps very well under wraps most of the time.

“It’s not that, it-“

“Then what is it? Because you’ve been avoiding me. Spending a lot of time with Standall, too.” He pulls a look of disgust before adding, “Unless you’ve been lying about that.”

“No, I really have been spending a lot of time with Alex and Zach at the gym, you can ask Caleb.” I will admit, I’d hoped that bringing up Tony’s boyfriend would soften his expression even if only a little, but it seems to harden his expression even more, his eyes turning icy.

“Caleb and I broke up. You’d have known that if you hadn’t been dodging me all month. Por el amor de Dios.”

“Tony... you know I don’t speak Spanish...”

He shoots me a glare so I close my mouth. “We’re supposed to be friends. I’ve been a good friend.”

“I know... you’ve been a great friend! I just- I’m sorry. About not being around as much. About Caleb... I’m sorry for it all.”

“Great. Fantastic.” He huffs out a breath.

“I’m... free now...” I say, hesitantly.

“What, no imaginary gym sessions anymore? You aren’t going to try and tell me that you and Dempsey are still supposed to meet at the gym?”

I give him an apologetic look and repeat, “I’m sorry I lied, Tony... I really am. “

“Get in the car, we can talk after we go to the diner.”

I give him a questioning look so he shrugs and says, “Primero comemos, luego hacemos todo lo demás.”

“Still don’t speak Spanish.” I mutter as we get into his cherry red mustang.

“First we eat, then we do everything else.” Tony explains, putting his keys into his car and starting it up before shifting his stick into drive and off we go.

“Oh...” I reply, lamely.

Once we finish eating, Tony clasps his hands in front if him and leans forward slightly onto the table between us and says, “So, are you going to tell me what’s been up with you?”

I bite my lip, not really sure what to tell him.

I’ve fallen for you, but your gay so just ignore me?

I have a crush on you, but know you’d never feel the same, so it’s whatever?

Or how about; I love you, go ahead and run out of my life because I; of course, do not have a penis.

“Just talk to me, [Y/N].”

I shake my head a little, looking down at the pattern in the wood of the table between us, “I can’t...” I admit, softly. I’m not even sure he can hear me.

“Okay, I’ll talk. Do you know why I broke up with Caleb?” I glance at him briefly, seeing an almost vulnerability in his eyes before my sight is back on the very interesting wooden table. I shake my head, my throat becoming too dry to speak.

“It’s because in all my life of liking men. I’ve somehow developed feelings for a girl.”

That surprises me, and I look at him, knowing my eyes are wide as an owls. “Oh...” I respond, softly. My mind reeling.

“Do you want to know who she is?” He asks, pointedly.

I shake my head, “I’m pretty sure I’d rather not...”

“Why is that?” He asks, his tone giving nothing of what’s going on in his mind away.

I look up at him, and realize I wasn’t imagining the vulnerable look in his eyes, the only sign he is slightly uncomfortable with this conversation.

“I guess I just don’t understand why you aren’t just telling her.”

“Cabrona.” He mutters and I sigh, frustrated.

“Cabrona what? I don’t know her,” I respond, my tone much harsher than I’d intended it to be.

I can’t help but feel the green monster we all know way too well as jealousy, Tony being attracted to someone else. A girl no less. Cabrona... she sounds French. I bet she has a perfect tan; one I’d never be able to manage. She’s probably as thin as a supermodel to top it off, bet she has blue eyes and her black hair that shines like only black hair can.

He smirks, a hint of humor now appearing in those nervous eyes, “Cabrona isn’t a girl’s name. I called you a dumbass. “

I’m taken a back by that. “What? Why?” I ask, incredulously.

“Because at certain times you are as clueless as Clay.”

I go to respond, but find no response willingly coming to me. Instead I just stare at him, my mouth more open then I’d particularly like it to be. I probably looked like a dumbass at this time if I’m being honest with myself.

“Do I honestly have to spell it out for you?”

“No,” I lie, irritated. He’s treating me like he does Clay. And I do not approve of it.

“It’s you, Mujer Loca.”

“You did not just call me crazy- wait... what did you just say..?” I feel all the color in my body heating up my cheeks as I register more than the word Loca, the Spanish word for crazy; one of the only words I actually can understand.

“It’s you.” He’s looking into my eyes, and I’d assume he was confident and sure of himself as he confesses what he seems to feel the need too; but his eyes give his anxiety away, and it melts my heart.

I wish I could respond. Wish I knew how to respond. But my tongue seems to have tied itself inside of my mouth as my mid fogs over and slows the world around me down.

“It’s your turn.” He states, his calmness shattering slightly with the rush of his words.

“It’s... what..?”

“I told you my secret, now tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Oh...” is the only word I can manage.

After a minute of heavy silence, he runs his hand through his very perfect hair and says, “[Y/N], you’ve got to say something.”

“Right...” and all of a sudden, his confession catches up with me, and my heart has the audacity to soar inside of my chest, leaving my stomach to be filled with butterflies. A burst of confidence fills me for just enough time for me to be honest, “I’ve developed feelings for my gay best friend... and I never even entertained the possibility of you ever liking me back.”

A breathless smile spreads across his face, lighting his golden eyes up and actually helping him look his age. “You do?” He clarifies.

I nod, my confidence having been spent with my own confession, and now my heart is beating quick enough for me to wonder if having a mutual crush could give you a heart attack.

Tony and I are laying on my couch watching Supernatural on my television, my head is laid comfortably on his chest, listening to his heart beating steadily, my hands in his resting on the blanket covering the both of us.

“Why does Deputy Standall look like-“

“Lucifer? Thank you! I thought I’d be the only one who could see the uncanny resemblance!” I exclaim, turning to look Tony in the eyes... only as I move, I feel Tony tense under me. “Are you okay?” I ask, worriedly. “Did I hurt you? I told you I was too heavy to lay on you!”

He shakes his head, his eyes once again the only thing with any honest expression. Only, I can’t quite read them this time, he has a look in his eyes that have darkened and lightened at the exact same time, leaving a mesmerizing swirl within them. He merely shakes his head, obviously hiding something.

“What..?” I ask, hesitantly.

“Nothing,” he responds far too evenly.

I cock my head to the side, not giving up. “If you need me to get up, I can.” I say, moving to get up, but he pulls me back to him, and it’s this action that allows me to feel something poking my lower back as I’m brought back to lying on top of my boyfriend. “Oh...” I accidentally let out with my realization.

“Hmm?” He says, trying to sound casual, but now I know otherwise.

“Oh, nothing.” I reply, my voice turning sickly sweet as I attempt to hide my smirk. This could be fun.

I give us a few moments, before I pretend to adjust my position to find a more comfortable one, making sure to pointedly rub against his hard on, purposely humming in comfort as I do so. I feel him stiffen once again underneath me, and even feel the slight movement of my hair indicating an outtake of breath being released from him.

“You okay?” I ask, as causally as I can while hiding my smirk.

“I’m fine, yeah.” Tony responds, his voice slightly gruffer than usual, and I have to work at hiding my accomplished giggle.

“Are you sure? You sound a bit... off?” I ask, trying to continue to sound as innocent as I can.

“Just watching the show.” Is his response.

I nod, and wait a few minutes before adjusting again, making sure to wiggle against his bulge a few times as I do so. I hear a soft groan that came right from his chest and I bite my lip to hide the smirk that is becoming increasingly hard to hide.

“Maldita sea, mujer.” He mutters under his breath as he puts his hands firmly on both of my sides, effectively stilling my movements.

“Tony, Love. I can’t understand you when you aren’t speaking English.”

He let’s out what I can only describe as a frustrated sigh, “Never mind.” He grunts.

I move, forcing my face into what I hope is a convincing concerned expression as I turn to face him, again making sure to brush against his hard on. “What’s wrong, Love?”

He eyes me a moment before an undeniable look of understanding appears on his face and I realize the gig is up. “Una tomadura de pelo.” He growls out, making my insides light up in a flame of arousal. As much as I want him to believe that it annoys me when he speaks Spanish; it’s all a lie. It’s honestly one of the more sexy things about him. But I would never let him know what it does to me, I’d never have a moments peace if he knew.

“I still don’t speak Spanish.”

“I called you a tease.” He responds, a fire lighting up behind his darkening brown eyes.

“I personally prefer the term Brat.” I respond with as much confidence as I can muster. We’ve never discussed sexual preferences, and if he isn’t into anything but vanilla, I could be sorry I said anything.

“Is that right?” He asks, darkly.

I feel my confidence dwindle as I can’t read his face, instead of responding I bite my lip and merely nod.

He smirks, and I feel my heart speeding up. “Naughty girl,” I feel my arousal increase at how deep and in control his voice seems to become as though a switch had been flipped. “What should I do with you, huh?”

I feel my ego and confidence build together at how accepting he seems to be, and it’s as though a dark weight had been lifted from me. “You could always fuck me?” I suggest, smirking at him mischieviously.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he replies, a look in his eyes that makes me melt.

“But waiting isn’t fun, ...Sir.” I test out the name hesitantly, but I see him swallow and close his eyes, when he opens them his eyes have turned predetory.

“Primero comemos, luego hacemos todo lo demás.”

I whine, “But I’m not hungry for food, Tony.”

“Well I’m starving,” he responds, a knowing look in his deep eyes. “What time did you say your parents would be home?”

“Not till tomorrow..?” I respond, slowly.

“Good, let’s go to your room.”

I raise an eyebrow, “I thought you were hungry.” I chellenge.

“Oh, I am.” His words are said with conviction. I feel my cheeks heat up as I stand up and lead him up the stairs of my home to my bedroom.

He moves inside, and I’m a little nervous as his eyes take in my bedroom, moving over the band posters litering my walls, photographs I’ve taken from my old home, filled with the smiles of old friends, my family. Some sketches are left on my end table, and as I close my bedroom door behind us he has made his way across the wooden floor to look at the drawing I’ve been working on, as well as the sketches underneath it, the first few sketches of him that I’d given up on for numerous reasons.

He holds the one I’ve deemed worth continueing and says, “This is me.” It wasn’t a question.

I nod, looking at the sketch where I’d managed to capture his eyes and scruff almost perfectly, but am still struggling to perfect his hair correctly.

“It’s really good.”

I shake my head, laughing nervously, “No, I can’t quite get your hair right...”

He places the papers back onto my nightstand and sits on my pillowtop twin bed, bouncing a little as he does.

It’s now that I notice my nervs reflecting in his expressive eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything,” I tell him, gently.

His eyes meet mine, confusion now replacing the nervs. “Do you not want to?”

A small laugh escapes my lips, “How could I not want to?” I exclaim a little more enthusiastically than I’d planned.

“Then why..?”

I bite my lip, my own insecurities filling my head. I want to yell that I’m not a man. That I don’t have the parts he desires. That I am heavier than either of the exes I’ve seen him with. That he is way out of my league and that I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to have sex with me.

He pats my bed, “Come, talk to me.”

I move slowly towards my bed and hesitantly sit next to him, and he wraps a muscular arm around me, pulling me to him so that I can rest my head comfortably underneath his chin as he begins rubbing my back soothingly. “What’s wrong?” He asks, kindness and worry obvious in his tone.

“Can I ask you a question... without offending you?” I whisper.

“You can ask me anything,” I feel him place a soft kiss on top of my head.

“Are you sure you want to be with me?”

He pulls me away from him, making sure to look me in the eyes as he responds, “Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

“Because your gay...”

A small understanding smile plays across his lips, “I am. But I am also in love with this really kind girl. One who makes my heart skip a beat whenever she looks my way. One who makes me want to be the best version of myself. I have fallen completely in love with you. And that happens sometimes. And I am so honored that you love me as well. And if you want me as much as I want you, I would really enjoy the chance to make love to you.”

I feel how heavy this conversation has gotten, so I quickly try to lighten the mood, “That’s so cheesy.”

He chuckles softly, stooping to peck my lips, “Well I could have said I’d like to fuck your brains out, but I thought that’d ruin the mood.”

My stomach clenches at the huskiness of his voice, and once again his eyes swirl with a mix of darkness and light that has my mind fogging up. “I mean... I’m not apposed to option number two at all,” I tease, glad the mood is back to playfully flirtatious.

“Oh really?” He asks, moving so that I have to lean back into a laying position, as he hovers above me, one if his knees resting inbetween my thighs and the heat from his body wrapping around me.

“Maybe... or maybe you’re still hungry?”

He smirks, and leans down, his facial haur tickling my face as he kisses me deeply.

His lips move against mine quickly, and I respond enthusiastically. At a certain point his pulls my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, causing a soft moan to leave my lips and give his tongue the chance to start a battle for dominance with my own.

I know I can’t win, and eventually I allow myself to melt into his dominance, earning a growl from his chest as me moves and starts littering kisses down my neck to my ear where he places a hot kiss right underneath it, a small whimper releasing itself from my mouth. I feel him smile against my skin right before he nips and then sucks a love mark into my skin, a moan making itself known from my lips.

He then moves his lips so I can feel his hot breath against my ear before he whispers seductively, “Not much of a tease now, Mi Amor.”

I feel my arousal increase at his words, but can’t let him win so easily. I bring my my hand down his back, move around his waist tracing his perfeft V-Line to his happy trail and then palm his impressive bulge over his jeans. I feel his hips flex and him twitch underneath my palm.

I only get the satisfaction for a moment before he bites my earlobe and as my eyes involuntarily close he grabs both my wrists in one of his hands and pulls them above my head. As I open my eyes in mild shock, I’m met with those mesmerizing eyes as he tuts at me, “I told you earlier, good things happen to those who wait.” He moves the knee between my legs so that it presses and rubs against my clothed pussy and my head falls back onto my pillows, the slight friction against my needing cunt isn’t enough, I need more. And he knows it.

“Eyes on me, Mi Amor.” I allow my eyes to flutter open as he lets my wrists free and sits up, and without breaking eye contact he unbuttons his shirt slowly, showing me the inked skin on his chest, one button at a time. I watch, breathless as he removes the shirt from his shoulders and allows me to admire his bare and muscular torso, from his prominant pecks, down to his V-Line, and then to the mouth watering happy trail that leads into to his jeans.

“May I?” He asks, gently, tugging at the end of my own top, and I nod my head; only to have him shake his, “I’m going to have to hear you say it, [Y/N].”

“Please, Tony.” I beg, softly; assuming that’s what he’s looking for.

He leans forward and gives me another mind blowing kiss, one that has me dizzy when he pulls away before repeating, “I need you to tell me that I can take off your shirt.”

I nod, “You can take my shirt off. You can take everything off.” My words sound rushed and breathy to my ears.

He smiles before his face returns to the stoic look of a man in control as he helps me sit up so he can pull my t-shirt over my head; exposing my cream colored bra underneath. I should have warn my nice black one. I would have if I were prepared for this to have happened.

“Can I?” He asks again, as one of his callased hands run along my brastrap.

“Yes.” I breathe, and he follows the string to my back, meeting his other hand at the clasp.

He starts pulling on it, but it isn’t long before I hear him mutter, “Mierda.” Under his breath.

“Can I help?” I ask, biting my lip as I take in his look of utter consintration. After a moment he sighs, and nods.

I smile and move my hands behind my back to unclasp my bra for him. He takes over gently pulling each strap down my arms individually. And once my chest is exposed to him; I hold my breath, closing my eyes. I don’t want to see his expression as the reality of my femininity is revealed to him.

“Hermosa.” It’s whispered, and like most of his Spanish vocab, I don’t understand the word; but I do hear the admiration in his voice and it allows me to relax again.

His hands softly, almost hesitantly lay themselves on my breasts. I sigh out softly. That’s when he pinches my nipples, and I can’t help the pleasured gasp from escaping my lips. And then I feel it, his mouth wrap itself around my left nipple, and suck, his tongue running over it. Another moan escapes without my permission.

He pleasures my breast with his mouth and then releases it, blowing cold air onto the wet nipple. He then switches to my right, giving it the same treatment.

Once he’s finished his intoxicating treatment of my breasts, he begins to leave a trail of kisses down my stomach, causing me to squirm underneath him, needing him to move faster, willing him to remove my jeans quicker.

“If you don’t stop moving, I’ll start over.” His growl has my breath hitching, as does the nip to my hip bone. “Do you understand?” I nod, quickly. “Use your words.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I understand.”

He stops his decent, and I whine. “There’s still one word missing from that sentence, Mi Amor.”

My breath hitches with a new wave of arousal. “Yes I understand, Sir.” I breathe out.

“Good girl, now keep still.” I nod, and he moves his lips to the opposite hip bone, mapping out his path with wet open mouthed kisses, taking his time to occasionally nip, or suck as he sees fit.

When he reaches the middle of my stomach he stops again and I whine, “I haven’t moved.”

“I know, your being so good for me. Now, can I take your jeans off?”

“Yes, please.” I beg.

He pops the button and even takes the time to unzip my pants. He taps my hip to have me raise my ass so he can pull my pants down without resistance. I listen immediately, letting him leak the skin tight jeans down my legs and I hear him throw them down somewhere in my room. My eyes are still closed as I allow him to undress me.

He tugs on my panties, asking once more, “Can I?”

“Please, please take them off.” I beg, desperately. I need him. I need him now.

He pulls them down at such a torturous speed that I have half a mine to rip them off myself.

Finally he has me completely undressed and I hear another zipper, when I open my eyes I see him peeling his own pants off, leaving him in black Calvin Klines.

He looks up at me, his eyes showing slight uncertainty as he speaks this time, “I’ve never... with a girl. I’ll need a little, direction.”

I smile at him, trying to keep my voice even as I ask, “Well what exactly do you have planned?”

He smirks before stating, “Well I’d like to get you off before actually fucking you. Get you nice and wet for me. Maybe even make you beg for me before I give you what you really want.”

It takes me a second to compose myself again, his words causing my thoughts to swarm. “Uh... well... if you’d just, uh... fuck.” I swear, before taking a deep breath. “My clit. Please rub my clit, Sir.” I beg, finding the words I’m searching for.

He nods, and his thumb comes into contact with my bundle of nerves before he creates a teasing pattern of rubbing figure eights onto my nerves, then as I’m just getting to the edge, slowing down and rubbing nice long circles around it.

After the fourth build up I huff out a disappointed groan into my left arm that I have draped over my face.

I hear his dark chuckle, “It isn’t so nice to be teased, is it?” I bite my lip once more, understanding his games.

A loud shocked moan leaves my lips as one of his long fingers are inserted inside of me and pulled out in a slow drag, before being plunged back in. “Use your words.” He demands.

“No. No it’s not.” I gasp out, another moan ripping itself out of me as he adds another finger to the mix, this one has his cold ring on his, and I can just barely feel it with every insertion. The feeling mixed with his thumb still rubbing figure eights against my clit has me gasping in between moans.

As I feel my orgasm building this time, my thighs begin to shake. “Hold it.” He demands, his voice like honey.

I shake my head, “I can’t.” I gasp out.

“You can and you will. 5.” My body begs for release as he continues his actions. “4.” The cold brush of his ring hits my clit just briefly. “3.” His figure eights quicken slightly. “2.” The tip of his middle finger brushes against my g-spot unexpectedly and I have to bite my knuckle to keep from screaming out. Every part of my concentration is being used not to let myself fall over the edge. “Come for me, Mi Amor.” His permission sets off my release, and I feel the tingles inside of me exploding around his fingers, pulsing around him as pleasure spreads throughout my body.

He continues as I come down from my high before pulling his fingers out and wiping them on his boxers.

He looks at me, and I can see the pride that he’s trying to hide shining through as he pulls off his boxers.

I swallow as I take in the sight of his generous size in all it’s thick and veiny glory.

He moves, so he’s once again hovering over me, placing a kiss to my lips that has me wanting more.

When he pulls away, he has me meet his eyes as he says, “May I?”

I nod, “Please. Please, Tony.”

He braces his weight in his left hand as he uses his right to position himself before slowly sinking into my heat, a moan falling from my lips as he pulls back.

When he sinks in again, his pace picks up, an amazing push and pull rhythm is found, and soon I’m moving my hips to meet him thrust for thrust, his groans of pleasure right next to my ear sounds like the best form of music I’ve ever heard. My moans filling the air just as freely.

Our bodies move like one as we build to our release. He moves his right hand back down and begins rubbing my clit once again, my hands grasping onto his shoulders for dear life.

“Eso es. Al igual que esa bebe.” His words fill my mind and bring me spiraling towards my release, even without understanding them. “Mierda. Si eso es. Eso es perfecto, Mi Amor.”

“I’m so close...” I gasp out mid moan.

“Cum for me. Vamos, Mi Amor. Let go for me.”

My body releases with an overwhelming euphoria. My eyes closing tight as I pulse around him. Waves of pleasure crashing around me.

After a moment, I feel him still above me, and a deep primal groan breaks its way out of his mouth before he buries his face into the crook of my neck, nibbling at the tender skin there.

After a moment, he rolls off of me, pulling me to his chest to bathe in the afterglow.

#tony padilla #tony padilla smut #13 reasons why #smut #one shot #tony padilla one shot #13 reasons why smut #13 reasons why one shot #tony padilla x reader #tony padilla/reader

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cannibalcreeps · 4 years

Note

If you could rank the wrong turn movies what would be at the top and what would be last 👀

Oh boyo oh boyo

So! This is personal taste of course 😌

Please know that if you do like one of the movies I talk poorly about, know that this is just my taste, my opinion and it does not mean anything

I am happy that you enjoy them, even if I don’t

-----

But here is my ranks and why:

1. Wrong Turn 10/10

The first and original, just OMG the designs of the 3 boys 🥰😍

They're rugged and feel so real, like you could actually end up accidentally running into them in the West Virginia mountains! The protagonists are actually amazing too, I liked them, I felt for them when they died, I could feel the fear and tension and that is how these kinds of movies should be.

The axe scene is just, wow! The practical effect they used for it was soooo good!! definitely top one out of the whole list. The best out of the whole series up, just too good.

2. Wrong Turn 2 8/10

The second of the franchise, I was a little iffy at the idea at first cause as past movies have proven adding new family members to an established antagonist family never ends well, looking at you Texas Chainsaw 3.

But when I finally watched it, I enjoyed it very much!

The protagonists were not as great and there were really poorly shot scenes such as the BJ scene between M and Elena, you could see his crotch area and Elena's head was positioned by his leg like? How did you mess that up??

Also the axe scene in that one was not as great, sorry whoever did that it was just poorly done and I know they were proud of it but, it looked very fake. As for the cannibals tho? AMAZING, they stuck with kind realistic but sadly they didn't do well with Three-Fingers, the reason why he now looks like a goddamn goblin 😔

But Brother, Sister, Ma and Pa are just omg yes, perfect family dynamic, I felt for them, I wanted them to survive more than the protagonists, they did amazing with their acting. Perfection 💘

3. Wrong Turn 4 6/10

Now this is where things start to drop in quality, but Wrong Turn 4 was fun and brought more gore and entertainment than it's previous films.The scene with the doctor being pulled apart and eating the man alive like he was some kind of cake, loved it! Also, One-Eye and Saw-Tooth is back!

And One-Eye looks so cute 😍 like an utter baby, while his two brothers could've looked a bit better but I enjoy their looks and how they act.

We also get to see them act more like brothers and caring for each other along with seeing them as kids, so that's pretty cool. As for the antagonists? Eh, nothing, don't care for them. Boring, rude and just stupid. Not worth caring about.

4. Wrong Turn 5 4/10

This is where things start getting worse and the quality is dropping in make-up, design, character, story, camera work and acting. Just hmmm nope, there are not enough shits in the world for me to care for these protagonists.

The three boys save it for being a bit goofy and fun, I just found One-Eye running the blade over his tummy to intimidate the woman at the beginning to be hilarious and then Three-Fingers was just a complete riot with stepping in front of her and licking his lips as she flips him off, hilarious.

The three boys designs dropped in quality real bad here, like I would've put them at 5 had they not been funny purely for the fact they look bad. Saw-Tooth looks too short, One-Eye seemed to have gotten as fat as Saw-Tooth and Three-Fingers looks like he is a damn goblin from Harry Potter! It’s a good thing they’re still goofy enough to entertain.

Everything else tho, bleh. I did not like Old Man Maynard in this one, complete change of character, bad very bad and boring.

5. Wrong Turn 3 2/10

Protagonists are stupid as hell and I hate what they did to my sweet boy Three-Toes.

I love Three-Toes design and how sweet and fatherly Three-Fingers is, annoyed that this film is the reason they got both Three-Toes and Three-Fingers deformities wrong. Their deformities were on the left and then they switched it to the right??? And thus the next films after started doing that like, NO! Three-Fingers messed up hand is on the left not the right 😤

Once again the protagonists are trash, so horrible and not because they're convicts. You can make criminals interesting characters that you can make the audience love, but these guys, the fucking worse in who they are, how they act just ew. Plus not all of then were convicts and only one of them was an actual serial killer neo-n*zi while the others were petty thieves/criminals or just had bad luck, one was an undercover marshal for god's sake.

Yet they had no personalities, bland ass characters. The scene with Three-Toes murder is what gets me, no one protests or feels guilty or anything, just outright murder a child just cause "Oh he's a mutant and trying to kill us" BITCH THAT'S A SMALL ASS CHILD! and they knew he was a kid too! Heck I would've felt for them had they felt anything at all when it happened, not even the chick felt sorry, just looked away cause 'ew gross beheading'

That's when I was hoping Three-Fingers would just go murder ballistic John Wick style on their ass. But no, he gets killed by the lamest of protagonists 🙄😒

Completely unsatisfying and annoying. Deserved a proper battle to the end.

6. Wrong Turn 6 0/10

WHERE DO I BEGIN!!

Omg a dumpster fire of a movie, I have never been so upset by what they do to the boys!

Their designs are just, NOOOO what did you do to them? They're so nasty looking, so fake, they look like really poorly made statues, i don't know how to explain how much it hurts me as an artist to see the poor make-up work like, make-up artist I just wanna talk! Were you held against your will? Were you only given 30 mins of work???

The story is whack, I do not like the antagonists woman and I do not like protagonists at all, they're annoying and stupid.

The whole cult thing is stupid and just throws you off, I don't accept this part of lore, it's ridiculous.

I have pushed out the whole movie from my mind as well so I've forgotten a lot about it. Only thing I liked was that one scene where she caresses One-Eyes cheek because I wish I could do that and that is all. 😂

#Wrong Turn #Hilliker Brothers #this is just my feels on them #just so ya'll know i don't want you to feel the same way as I do with these movies and that if you do like the three i don't that's #completely fine xD ahah #i just adore 1 2 and 4 so much

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seeds-and-sins · 4 years

Text

F**kin’ Diabolical (Chapter 4)

Master List

Pairing: Homelander / Original Female Character, Billy Butcher / Original Female Character

Rating: M (Strong language, sexual themes)

Decription: Carly Danvers is a reporter/radio show host/annoying little piece of- For reasons unknown to Vought, she decided to start a one man investigation on Vought’s operation. Her efforts had been quite successful so far, so much so that Stillwell would have done anything to see the young girl dead. Turns out Stillwell didn’t have to do anything at all, while one piece of evidence against Vought causes Danvers to fly too close to the sun. And Homelander flies after her.

Chapter Summary; Homelander didn’t realize that getting Carly to the Vought tower was only half the battle.

Her apartment complex was small, but in a cozy kind of way. She got lucky with the expanse of square footage the landlord had offered her, considering that she had seen other apartments and hers was the biggest in the building. At first, it was all concrete floors, scratchy wall paper, and a broken sliding glass door onto the balcony, but once she started making more money, renovations came into play. With Carly’s creative expertise, the place was a fun house in not time.

The floors now were sandalwood and the walls painted a darker beige, where the longest wall was left a solid white, covered in doodles and painted pictures that she had spent hours on. She opened up the room to expand the windows out, now they spanned around a corner of the living room. The living room opened up at the entrance, where an L-shaped sectional with brown leather graced her guests as they entered. Off to their left would be a wall with an entertainment center and a flat screen tv, to their right the crimson granite counter tops that stood with bar stools, on the other side a kitchen of that counter. Aside from the hallway that led to her room, her apartment was fairly open, lots of seating areas because she liked variety. There were bean bags and stools for her bar, which had an array of liquors that she had saved up over the years. Her kitchen was closed in by the counter, an island in the center, with a dual sided refrigerator that she also had worked her ass off to get.

It was fairly lit, but sometimes she liked to dim the lights and turn on a flashlight to read her books with, as she cuddled into a giant bean bag. In her bedroom was a king sized bed, with tons of pillows, that was her favorite part of the apartment. She often drew pictures and played on her guitar in there, that was her safe space, where no one could bother her.

Across from her lived a rough looking, older man by the name of Billy Butcher. He was rowdy, single, and he had the cutest dog she had ever seen. They didn't spend time together or anything, but they certainly talked more with each other than they did with the other residents. Down the hall was a fresh frat boy/jock, and across from him was a single mother and her two kids. Billy and Carly felt more alike, more drawn to each other, so whenever they just so happened to cross paths they would share a few words.

"Ey, I listened to your show today, definitely sticking one up to those cunts."

"Right?! They deserve it." They both shared laughs, cracked jokes, were extremely profane, and even a little too open with each other at times. Carly and Butch were similar in that they didn't have a sensor, so God forbid the two of them were ever together for a few minutes in passing. That poor mother had to shield her childrens’ ears in the elevator more than a few times.

"Can you bloody believe that they even stretch that far?"

"I don't even want to imagine that happening to anyone, not even me."

"Well, its a bloody process I am sure..." Naturally, as they crossed paths, the two of them spoke that night before she went to the lab. She was grabbing a few things, Allen and the Doctor waiting outside in the car. As she shut her door, jiggling the key with a twist, jacket slung over her shoulder, he was also exiting his apartment.

"Oh, well, what do you know? My favorite celebrity." He teased, she faced him with a grin and an eye roll.

"Oh look, my favorite asshat." She mocked in the worst cockney accent she could muster.

"You shut your pretty mouth there, those are fighting words." They started towards the elevator with laughter bubbling up from them, cheeks rosy, God it would be a sickening sight to anyone. The two of them were like peas in a pod, munchkins, cuddle buddies or some shit like that. "So, where are ya' off to tonight?" He pressed the button to the elevator for her.

"Some stupid shit with Vought, you know me."

"I like stupid shit. Does it have anything to do with your show this evening?" The doors slid open with a ding.

"Sure does, between you and me..." She came in closer to whisper into his ear, exhaling a giddy giggle behind a cupped hand. "I am breaking into a Vought Lab." He smirked, shaking his head, but never in disapproval as much as it was at the ridiculous stunts she'd pull. The door slid shut, the both of them now completely alone in an elevator. Nothing much different than the hundreds of times before.

"You think you'd have any time for drinks afterwards?" She blushed at the question, just drinks, right? No, she felt like the question was more than that and the way he awkwardly leaned on the elevator wall, said so much. As if he was nervous she would say no, or something worse.

"I'd love to, but I don't know when I will be back." He nodded his head, fiddling with his thumbs out in front of him. "But hey, how bout tomorrow for sure?" His face lit up with that shit-eating grin of his.

"Yeah, I'd like that." The elevator doors dinged open, but Billy didn't make a move when Carly stepped from the elevator. She faced him with her own grin and smiled, he waved at her. "You be careful there, sweetheart, some of us like seeing your ugly face every day." As the doors slowly began to close she stuck her middle finger up at him, and he stuck his tongue out. Children at best, that's always what it seemed like when they were together. When he was gone and they were apart, always after seeing each other, Carly felt empty almost, like she was missing out. She always shoved that away.

"Ms. Danvers! Are you going to answer me?!" An aggravated Madelyn shot out from across the desk, Carly blinked her eyes, coming to from her daze. She met Stillwell's steely gaze, Homelander pacing around the desk, eyes targeted on Carly in some threatening fashion.

"W-What-What did you ask again?" Madelyn groaned, straightening herself and plastering a fake smile onto her lips, she crossed her fingers over the desk.

"Did anybody else know you were going to the lab last night?" She stated more firmly, pronouncing each word with venomous emphasis, as if she was talking to a three year old child.

"No." Carly responded instantly, perhaps too soon, as Homelander's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. He was surprised. Carly had always been fairly good at lying to him, better than most, but she was in an emotional vulnerable state, not on her A game truly. Madelyn rolled her eyes and then sat back in her seat, arms crossed.

"You do know the position, you've put me in, right?" Carly sighed, shakily holding her hands on her lap, she gulped.

"Look, I just want to get back to normal."

"Back to normal?" Madelyn chuckled at the thought, she stood up and waltzed around the desk over to the window that spanned the wall of her office. Homelander stopped pacing at the other side of the room, still watching Carly like a hawk. "You are as powerful as Homelander now, Danvers, there is no normal for you ever again." She twisted in her seat to consider Madelyn with sorrow filled eyes, and Homelander couldn't hide his deep huff of amusement. Carly tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill, she had never felt so weak or insignificant in front of anybody before. Heck, she'd stand up to Homelander any day before this shit happened. Now she wanted to hide in a cave and wallow in her own self pity.

"Maybe there is a way, right? The doctor told me its genetic modification, all we have to do is convert my DNA back to what it was officially."

"But you would die." Homelander said with sardonic glimmer in his tone, he shuffled around the coffee table and plopped down onto the couch. His arm rose up, spanning the length of the back rest. He held his other gloved hand up, crushing his fist into a ball. "It blows my mind that you would want to be normal again, Carly. You have all the power in the world-"

"And I don't want it." She shot out, frustration taking residence over the desperation and she stood. She held her palms out and shook her head. "This isn't who I am. I am a simple girl, made of flesh and bone, nothing more." Homelander opened his mouth to reply, but Stillwell beat him to it.

"You are right, you are absolutely right. And I might just have some options for you, Danvers." Madelyn paraded back over to her desk, perhaps she was having more fun with this than she expected she would. When Homelander told her about Carly’s situation, Stillwell was pissed beyond explanation. Here she was wanting the girl dead, and now the only person that could truly make that decision themselves was Homelander. Madelyn knew Homelander wouldn’t kill Carly, at least not without riding this high first.

"I have two options for you..."

"I don't have time for games. This isn't a joke." Stillwell laughed, leaning onto her desk with one hand, the other propped on her hip.

"I'm not so excited about this either, but this might just be good for us."

"Whatever you have to say, it better not be what I think it is."

"It better be what I think." Homelander stood, soon coming to stand alongside Carly with that grin.

"Option one," She placed a hand on her chest, "My preference..." She added slyly, and then, "We pretend you died from the fire, get you a nice place in Alaska and you live the rest of your days in solitude." Stillwell patiently waited, as if there wasn't a second option, and if there was she definitely didn't want Carly to have the ability to choose.

"What's the second option?" Homelander's voice was all too solid, glaring at Stillwell, forcing her to procure that second option like her life depended on it. It probably did.

"Alright," Stillwell sighed, "We make you a hero. You denounce your previous claims against Vought and in return you live more famous than you've ever imagined." Since Carly woke up that morning, there was a stray thought that constantly teased to slip past her lips. The knowledge that she had against Vought, she could fight them, and now, more powerful than ever, she could fight them hard. Compound V was real, she was proof of that, all the heroes were. The compound injected into babies as if they were lab rats, the thought made her sick. She was reminded of why she was here, how she ended up in that lab. Now being offered a chance to be one of them, knowing all the cruel things they've done, if anything it made her heart race.

Homelander must have felt it too. The feeling made her want to do something but she didn't even know what. Impulses working through her mind, the need to just jump out that window, the realization that nothing can kill her now. Perhaps Homelander, but still. The options before her, and she had always been one to make an option three, to force it. Now there was no choice, one or the other, they say. Homelander’s hand landed on her shoulder and he laughed, harshly patting her on the back, a pat that would have anybody else coughing up their broken bones.

"She'll do it, option two. She'll be wonderful!"

"I would like her to say it." Stillwell didn't like the feeling of not having control. Although for so long Homelander had been loose, the reins were gone, this was still different. She hated knowing that Homelander wanted Carly around and that she couldn't do anything about it.

"Okay." Carly found herself choking out, despite her better judgment. She didn't know what logic came with the response, but she knew that it felt sound. Like something was in her path, something big, like it was worth it, like the universe was talking to her.

"Perfect." Homelander said with such joy in his voice, now both hands on her shoulders, massaging at her neck. She closed her eyes and allowed him to shake her forward and backward for a moment.

"I will work with my marketing team. Until then, Homelander can keep an eye on you." Stillwell hated that too, but the girl had zero to no control over her powers. Carly could destroy this whole building and without Homelander around, there would be no one to stop her.

"I've been waiting for this moment. So exciting..." Both women glared at each other, both for different reasons. "And I have already picked a name." Stillwell crossed her arms, cocking her head at Homelander, trying to hide the agitation surging through her. The level of absolute excitement he was feeling struck a nerve in Stillwell, the hero was crossing a big line.

"Oh, you have, have you?"

"Lady Liberty." He held his hands up like the name was gospel, like it was the most obvious name, the most fantastic name. Carly admitted to herself the fact that he even thought of a name was extremely unsettling, like this had been his plan all along. "Come on guys, get with the program." He waltzed over to the office door, now fixed after yesterday's door slamming incident. He waited, gesturing to Carly as he motioned out the door. "Let's go. Come on, the more we wait, the less time you have to learn those new powers of yours." Carly didn't think she'd ever beg in her life, but as she left Stillwell's office, that last glance to Stillwell was full of silent, raw begging. The last person she'd thought she'd ever beg for help, beg for a plan, beg for safety from him. But both of them knew, Homelander was not letting Carly go anytime soon. Carly made her choice, the moment she entered that lab.

#homelander x ofc #billy butcher x ofc #Billy Butcher #homelander #the boys #vought #the seven

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charming-2d-boys · 3 years

Note

RENT AHEAD BABY:

i just read through the stories of a girl studying in the politics/business industry and I've been hit by the big sad and by how much I can be naive because, well, while I have big ambitions and want to work in the entertainment field and then expand my influence on lots of other and completely different categories, I didn't expect what she said, even tho I think I already knew and expected all of that. She talked a lot about manipulating your way to the top, faking bonds, analyzing people to find their weaknesses, manipulation, and I was stunned. In a bad way. Everything seems so fake as anyone could easily back stab you to get your place. When I think about it, I could do that, easily. But that's not how I work. I want to do big things, big, big, big things. I never learned to dream small and will never plan to. I want to create my own company and make it grow bigger and better, to have influence, a good one. But I don't want everything to be so fake. I might be a bit naive or a lot but I'm fine with that. I'll be naive. I'll believe in people who might backstab me. It's not as useful as being manipulative but I'll take it. I prefer being that and come back stronger than living in a tasteless world where my tone is overly sweet to make people believe I'm there for their own good. I'll have an overly sweet tone. But it'll be genuine, and I don't care if I'm crushed at the end, this is the hill I will die on, I've been born too attached to my morals and might have watched too much Naruto as a child.

-Yasu

Ps: hahaha, I cooled down after writing this and feel a bit embarassed now shdjsjs. Sorry if I come across as an idiotic idealist but I live to fulfill my pixie dream girl role in this lifetime~

Kind of a long rant ahead, just saying.

Damn, Yasu!

I was a little shocked and confused when I first read this, but then I actually understood what you meant and honestly, I’m feeling, thinking and acting the same way you do. I dream big and want to do certain things that I know won’t come easy or be easy to do. I have so many plans and I’m thinking about so many ways that I could reach them and sometimes it’s just so hard and frustrating!

But then, I think that if others can do it, so can I.

Unfortunately, all these messed up things happen everywhere, not just in entertainment, and I’m sure you know this as well.

I live in a country where corruption is something so... normal it’s actually sickening. It’s weird meeting someone in a very high position in society here who is honest; who doesn’t accept bribes; who actually wants to change something and do good. And they are so hated for that by those leeches who only want more: more money, more land, more things. They don’t care about those who suffer, as long as it’s not someone who they care about.

Powerful politicians, police officers, bishops, doctors etc.: accused of fraud, r*pe, money laundering, m*rder, bribery, manipulation, negligence, among many more, who get no punishment for what they do. Or it’s one of those investigations that either come out as “they did nothing wrong”, “there isn’t enough evidence” or the investigation just goes on and on and on.

I see that so often and I just can’t do it, not even if I tried, because I’d feel disgusted by myself and guilty.

I’d give some very, very recent evidence and examples of such cases, but I’d get very mad and frustrated, and I don’t want that.

I get it and I hope you and the others feel the same: no manipulation, genuine compliments, opinions, not going against your word or beliefs, no ass-kissing. I guess... be honest with yourself.

Just... be nice, as nice as you can. I’m not saying be a doormat, but be kind and polite and helpful whenever you can (and even want), but always be careful and listen to your gut feeling. Believe me, those things come back to you.

P.S.: excuse the rant, you just made me think about a lot of the things happening here. I hate some of those people - complete strangers, biggest assholes who can’t even be compared to animals, let alone human beings - with a burning passion and I hope I get to live somewhere better in a few years and far, FAR away from here (been planning for some time, hopefully, I make it 🤞).

#starshine #answered #bomi rambles

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fanfic-inator795 · 4 years

Text

Oneshot: Movies and Mermaids

((Have some Mikey and Draxum bonding *throws confetti*))

It wasn’t as if Draxum had any genuine interest in human culture, certainly not! He could care less! ...Though, his obvious lack of caring didn’t prevent certain annoyances.

Like how he would be sometimes be completely lost in certain conversations. A member of the faculty at the high school would ask if he had seen the latest film in theaters and if he liked it better than the remake, or how his fellow lunch servers would reference certain shows and encourage him to watch them as well - Gladys especially seemed entranced with a show regarding doctors all dating each other in-between doing their actual jobs, for whatever reason.

The rest of the city seemed to only aggravate him more. From displays and the videos that would play on the large screens on towers, to the advertisements he saw on the television box or in magazines. It just seemed like everything he saw in human culture was a reference to something or someone - a laundry list of names and shows and movies and jokes and even what were supposedly ‘simple’ concepts like technology and brands and lingo and-!

After over two months of living on the surface, Draxum had reached his limit. He was tired of constantly being confused. He was tired of constantly missing or misunderstanding the references.

He was tired of being reminded that this was not his world, that he was still a yokai in human clothing.

So naturally, as a man of science, Draxum thought it only made sense to start with some research. Granted there was an entire pantheon that he would have to go through, and without the power of the ‘internet’ and a television box that only had five channels, it would be a incredibly slow process... At the very least, O’Neil had said that she would help him get a human library card when they both had a free afternoon.

In the meantime, Michelangelo had plenty of ‘reference material’, and even with the insistence that this was all for education and NOT entertainment, Draxum figured it was as good of a starting point as any, considering how much the humans seemed to admire their on-screen stories and their film stars. (No wonder Lou Jitsu was just as popular as an actor as he was as a warrior...)

It was late Friday night when Mikey showed up to Draxum’s apartment with a backpack full of movies of all different genres and formats and a VHS/DVD combo player tucked under his arm. “Good thing Donnie found this thing a few years ago, huh?” he said as he hooked it up.

Draxum didn’t bother replying. Instead, he was focusing on his choices for that evening - as well as for the rest of the week, since Mikey said he could borrow them as long as he needed to - pulling out each tape or DVD case and examining it carefully. Quite a few of them looked like they were for children, which he probably should have expected, though he didn’t dismiss them immediately.

“Don’t worry,” he heard Mikey said, “I remembered what you said. All of these are super popular ‘staples of human culture’ that practically everyone’s seen.”

“Good,” Draxum mumbled, putting aside a movie about a boat next to a movie about a boy gardener who wore a cloak and was apparently very harry. Picking up the next one, his expression flattened a bit at the cover. “This one you can take back, I don’t need to watch it.”

“Huh? Why- ohhh.” The box turtle chuckled as he took the tape, smiling at the younger version of his dad on the box. “Sorry, guess that one accidentally got slipped in there. Though to be fair, ‘Jitsu for Justice’ is a total classic.”

“Irrelevant,” Draxum huffed, “I have no desire to watch ANY of Lou Jitsu’s films, no matter how popular they may be. Once was more than enough...”

“Alright alright, I’ll- wait,” Mikey paused, “so you DID watch his movies?”

“Er, I- Not because I actually wanted to!” Draxum told him, “It was for research!” Mikey gave him a flat look. “He had stopped fighting in the Battle Nexus and I needed to study his moves! I-I didn’t enjoy doing it, if that’s what you’re implying! His movies were still ridiculous and completely unenjoyable! I would never actually-”

“Whatever you say, man,” Mikey shrugged, ignoring the Baron’s growls at being interrupted, “Though, how’d you watch ‘em anyway? I didn’t think that TV was that big of a thing down there?”

“I used my viewing orb to summon and display them, obviously,” Draxum told him, “Most yokai have them for when they need them, and they’re much more useful and clearer than any television box.”

“If you say so...” “Hmph.” With that settled, Draxum went back to digging through the bag of movies. It didn’t take long for another video to catch his eye, this one in a plastic case rather than a cardboard one, with a picture of a happy mermaid and an equally happy human plastered on it.

“Awwww!” Mikey said suddenly, “That was April’s favorite movie when she was little! Which meant it was one of the first movies she brought over to share with us! Heh, guess we borrowed it so often we forgot to give it back, whoops. But it’s a really good movie! See, there’s this mermaid who wants to live on land as a human, and she’s friends with a crab and-”

Draxum had begun to tune the turtle out as he continued to stare at the VHS case. Mermaids weren’t too common in the Hidden City itself, though that didn’t mean they weren’t there at all. The city was next to water, after all, and some would live on the shore or become part of an air-boat crew - and they certainly didn’t look like this.

He felt his thoughts start to swirl, becoming just as mixed as his emotions as a grimace began to form on his face. On one hand, Draxum supposed he should’ve been grateful that the humans were portraying a yokai positively - as cute and friendly instead of vicious creature that lived to drown humans.

Centuries ago, before the Great Migration underground, Draxum had heard that and many other similar claims about his people... Baseless claims meant to justify hunts and attacking on sight...

On the other hand, did humans only see them as ‘harmless’ when used for entertainment purposes? Did they only approve of yokai existing when they only existed in fiction, where they could be used however humans saw fit?

He was briefly reminded of the creatures - the ‘poke-o-mon’ - that he would occasionally see on shirts or on phones, creatures not directly based on yokai, but similar enough. He had to wonder how much other human entertainment was based on so-called fictional creatures and monsters that they never would have even smiled at before.

“-xum... Hey, Drax?” Mikey poked his bicep, making Draxum flinch. “You okay, bud-?”

“Fine,” Draxum snapped, though there was a little actual bite to it, “Just surprised that humans would portray a yokai so positively, even in fiction.”

“Most humans do think they’re just fiction,” Mikey told him. After a moment, his tone became a bit gentler, thinking back to certain points brought up by his father and April. “Though, I can still sorta see why that would feel weird or kinda insulting, seeing a fake version of yourself or your people and not knowin’ how they’d react to the real you, wondering if they would only like the fake you. That probably doesn’t feel the greatest... and I’m really sorry about that.”

Draxum blinked. He stared at the turtle for a few seconds before finally replying with, “You’re a lot more introspective than I would have thought.”

“I get that a lot,” Mikey grinned, “But hey, they don’t call me Dr. Feelings for nothing. So, did you wanna keep this one then, or- I mean, I can understand if-”

Draxum stopped him, looking at the tape again. “...I am admittedly curious,” he said, “You did say this was a movie humans watch as children.” Studying a species’ influences during adolescence could prove to be pretty useful in understanding the adults. “And besides, if the portrayal is truly offensive, I can always send a complaint to this ‘Walt Disney’ and demand certain edits.”

“Riiiiight, though I don’t think you’ll be too mad at this one,” Mikey told him, “Ariel is a great character, and all the other mermaids in the movie aren’t portrayed as jerks or anything. ...Well, one guy kinda is but, uh-”

“Let’s just watch it already,” Draxum told him, shoving the tape into his hand, “The sooner we start it, the sooner I can gauge whether or not it’s actually worth watching.”

Mikey smirked a little. “Heh, alright.” Opening the case, he pushed the tape in while Draxum went over to the couch they had gotten him at the thrift store, briefly checking it for bugs or lumps before sitting down. “Good thing it’s already rewound.”

The only annoying thing about that was that they had to sit through previews, though Mikey used that time to cook up some popcorn kernels that he had snagged on the way out of the Lair, easily cooking it using a pan and the stove top. (No one trusted Draxum with a microwave after That One Time.)

By the time he finished, the movie’s title had just faded onto the screen. Mikey smiled widely, the nostalgia from the music and the memories he had with the movie sending slight shivers up his shell.

Draxum, meanwhile, was watching the film intently, taking in every detail. The mermaids in the film were still completely different than actual mermaids, but at least they weren’t an insulting caricature (even if they were a bit too human-like for his liking).

As it turned out, the main mermaid character was not only a bit of a collector and explorer, but also a human fanatic. “Ugh,” Draxum grumbled as he grabbed a couple more pieces of the puffed-up corn-snack. Mikey gave him a bit of a look, but he ignored it. Just because he had been able to find a bit of common ground and comradery with his fellow lunch servers didn’t mean he was willing to give ALL humans a pass.

At least the mermaid’s father seemed to have some common sense. In fact, Draxum found himself nodding in agreement with nearly every scene the mer-king was in. ...Up until a certain point, at least.

Mikey winced a bit as the scene began. He resisted the urge to go into his shell like he always had when he was little, but he did sink a little in his seat as Triton stepped out of the shadows. When he noticed Draxum glancing over at him, Mikey simply mumbled, “I always hate this scene...”

A couple minutes and a destroyed grotto later, and Draxum could sort of see what Mikey meant, understanding how Triton’s act might have been “harsh”, as the orange-wearing turtle would’ve put it.

As the movie moved onto the next seen, Mikey relaxed a little, though a frown remained on his face... However, his expression of sadness soon became one of confusion as he felt a hand pat the top of his head.

“Uh... there, there,” Draxum mumbled, giving Mikey one more head-pat before retracting his hand. It was awkward as all heck, they both knew it, but seeing the sheepman somewhat care about his feelings still made Mikey smile.

It didn’t take much longer for Ursula to make her appearance, and as soon as the Sea Witch began talking of deals and trades, Draxum gave a small smirk of his own.

“What?” Mikey asked, tilting his head a bit.

“I didn’t realize Big Mama was in this movie.”

Mikey snorted at that. “So what, you tell jokes now?”

The sheep-man shrugged as he grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Just making an observation,” he said simply. As the scene went on though, his mind made another small connection - Ursula’s two eels reminding him of his own pair of pets, even if Flotsam and Jetsam were much more confident than his former goyles.

Even so, the reminder made his chest ache a little... Not in sadness, mind you, or because he actually missed them. No, clearly his chest ached for a completely different reason that he was sure he’d think of later.

Once the little mermaid made the contract and silenced herself, the film very much became a literal ‘fish out of water’ story, complete with plenty of amusing moments featuring misunderstandings and an over-abundance of cuteness, as well as another musical number. Thankfully, before things became too saccharine, Ursula launched the second half of her plan to rule the seas.

After that, the movie moved pretty quickly through its third act. Draxum was a bit annoyed at the human prince being the one to ultimately save the day in the end, but overall he could agree that the ending was a pretty happy one.

As the credits rolled, Mikey looked at him with eyes wide. “Sooooo, what do you think?”

Draxum cupped his chin in thought, staying silent for a few moments before finally speaking. “...If the king’s trident had the power of transformation, why didn’t he just turn the prince into a merman?”

Mikey’s face fell. “...That’s what you got out of it?”

“It’s a valid question!” Draxum argued, “Why should she have to be the one to transform?”

“Because she wasn’t just after the guy!” Mikey told him, resisting the urge to facepalm, “You saw her collection and heard her song, she wanted to be human! She was tired of bein’ stuck in the same ocean and wanted something new - something she thought was cool!”

“Hmph, I suppose that’s true... Plus, she still has the option to turn back into a mermaid later on thanks to her father’s power, so at least there’s that.”

The box turtle slumped back on the couch, disappointed though maybe not too surprised. “I guess that means you didn’t really like it, huh?”

There was a long moment of silence. “I didn’t completely agree with the ending but... the film overall wasn’t too bad,” Draxum conceded, “Not as bad as I thought it’d be, at least?”

“...You really mean that?” Mikey asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t waste my time lying about something as trivial as animated human-entertainment,” Draxum replied, “And... there were high production values. Characters were mostly understandable, and it was... cute. Not too annoying or insufferable. Even if it was still slightly inaccurate to actual mermaids and mermen.”

“...You know what, I’ll take it. And I’m glad you enjoyed the movie, and not just for my sake.” With a bit of a ‘whup’, Mikey sat up and tucked his legs under his body in a sort of lotus position. “Though, now I’m kinda curious. What’d the movie get wrong, and what else can you tell me about merpeople? I only ever saw one, on Hueso’s brother’s ship, but that was only for like a second.”

This time, it was Draxum’s turn to give him a look. “Really... The child who’s always pushing me to ‘embrace humans’ and hide my ‘mystic stuff’ is asking me to teach him about a member of Yokaikind?”

“Hey, I only to tell you to hide your mystic stuff so you don’t get yourself evicted, fired or arrested,” Mikey retorted, “I’m not the one goin’ around mutatin’ kids and/or lunches and making giant stone heads angry.”

“...Fair enough,” Draxum said, only slightly reluctant.

“But as far as I can figure, there’s no harm in just talking about mystic stuff. And as for my actual interest... Yeah, I really do wanna know.” Unable to help himself, Mikey directed his gaze towards the floor - down towards the Hidden City that he knew was there. That he only now knew was there.

He wouldn’t have traded his life with his dad in the sewers of NYC for anything, but he would’ve been lying if he said there wasn’t a small part of him that wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up around people that looked like him in a city full of magic.

“We protect humans, but we don’t like only humans, you know,” Mikey continued, “We’ve got other mutant friends, and yokai friends too.” His smile softened. “Senor Hueso and Sunita and the chefs I’ve met at Run of the Mill, they’re all so amazing. And I’ve only seen, like, a fraction of the Hidden City but I know that’s amazing too, and I just... This city - the surface - is always gonna be my home, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the other city or wonder about it.”

He finally looked back at Draxum, his eyes firm. “So yeah... I wanna know.”

There was another moment of silence between them, though within it, the slightest bit of connection was formed. Small and fragile, but no less noticeable.

“...Fine,” Draxum finally agreed, “But pay attention, I don’t want to repeat myself later. First off, no merperson has the same skin tone as a human. They range between greens, blues and grays to help blend in with oceans. Their eyes are also much wider than a human’s to help them hunt.”

“Makes sense to me!” Mikey smiled, leaning back on his hands a little, though looking no less attentive. Even when the TV turned to quiet static, he kept his focus right on Draxum - a gesture the former warrior-scientist certainly appreciated, even if he didn’t say so outright.

“Merpeople are also able to survive outside of water. While mobility becomes an issue depending on how often they’re moving or traveling, they have no issues living on land - hence why some take to living on air-boats as a sort of compromise, plus it helps them travel across bodies of water in a shorter amount of time. They also don’t eat humans, despite the lies told about them, though they can be territorial when they are in the water - although you can’t blame them, especially if fish start to become scarce. Furthermore-”

It was sort of nice... Sure, Mikey had plenty he wanted to show and teach Draxum about humankind - and if all went well, then maybe there was a chance of Draxum having a change of heart. Maybe their technical creator wasn’t totally evil, and maybe one day, he really would be a better person and would understand what he and his family already knew. Mikey certainly hoped that would end up being the case...

But, in the meantime, maybe Mikey would end up learning a little from Draxum too. And honestly, as long as it wasn’t lecture series about ‘effectively destroying humans’ or anything like that, the orange turtle didn’t see anything wrong with that at all.

THE END

#rottmnt #baron draxum #michelangelo tmnt #oneshot #my writing #fanfiction #had this idea for a while #finally finished writing it out

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writing-reading-inspiring · 4 years

Text

Matter Of The Heart (Tom Holland X Reader) - Chapter One

Summary: (y/n) doesn’t expect much more out of her life, mostly because it’s ending. However, she definitely didn’t expect to catch the eye of a famous actor who likes to visit the kids on her floor.

Warnings: diseases and medical issues are talked about, mentions of death, curse words

I woke up to the shining sun beaming in from the windows to the right of me, illuminating the entire room in a golden light. I could hear birds chirping as they welcomed the new day with gratitude and grace. Ugh, what show offs.

I grumpily pulled my personal duvet over my head, trying to block out the streams of light long enough to fall back to sleep.

I knew I was supposed to be awake and that I would probably get shit about this from my doctor, but I really wanted to sleep. I mean, come on, who else doesn’t want to sleep in a few hours more than they’re supposed to.

I sighed in contentment when I was finally able to make it dark enough for me to drift back into sleep. Unfortunately, I was stirred again by a persistent knocking at my door. Damn it, Jade.

“Go away,” I gracefully responded with hair stuck in my mouth.

“You need to be up, (y/n). You have scheduled equipment today,” Jade replied, opening the door as she spoke.

Jade is one of my favorite nurses that works at the hospital. I, of course, would never tell her that, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

“But, it’s so early. Why can’t I ever just rest peacefully and undisturbed. You know medical professionals say to get eight hours of sleep, yet it’s the medical professionals that wake me up before I can get that.”

Jade rolled her eyes at me, “First of all, it’s 10:30 in the morning, so you should have gotten well past eight hours of sleep if you weren’t binge watching an entire season of Supernatural. Second of all, if we left you undisturbed, you would sleep till 5:00 at night and then the night crew would be very upset about having to take care of you on top of their patients who need 24/7 surveillance. So, stop being dramatic and get out of bed.”

I couldn’t help the small grimace that grew on my face as she spoke. We both knew she was right and I had no choice but to get up for the day.

“Fine, but only if I get at least an hour to myself today. I want the promise of not being watched every 10 minutes.”

Jade gave me a look of understanding while she set up her cart. Every morning, she would take my vitals to make sure everything was working right.

“I know it’s difficult, sweetie. You’re an 18 year old girl who doesn’t even get to step outside of the hospital without a nurse with you. It’s tough, but you have to understand that we’re only here to make sure you can live as long as you can. We need to watch you every 10 minutes to make sure that the world can have it’s beautiful (y/n) for as long as it can.”

Jade stopped prepping her needles and came to give me a hug. I sat up and held her back tightly, knowing that she spoke from her heart. That’s one of the things I loved about her and all of the other staff members at the hospital, they genuinely cared about the patients here.

She pulled back from me, giving me a smile as she went back to her cart. “Now then, let’s get you checked up so you can get dressed.”

I nodded at her and crawled to the end of the bed, putting out my arm for her to take my blood pressure.

I knew by now what the routine was for the mornings. Blood pressure, temperature, heart beat, and blood samples.

Every morning a nurse would come in and do these tests without fail. At night it’s similar, but I don’t get any blood work done. It’s then that they reconnect me to the heart monitor and put the IV back in me. The doctors want me to be hydrated as much as I can be, so they slowly have me receive saline when I’m sleeping.

Once Jade was done, she left me on my own to get changed, promising that she would be back in 10 minutes to make sure I got some food in me.

I looked through my suitcase, trying to find something comfortable for the day. I was very limited in what I could wear because of testing and the fact that I only can wear what fits in the suitcase. That’s why Aunt Avery exchanges my clothes every two weeks, so I can have different styles.

I grabbed a cute pair of black sweatpants and a white top to go along with it. I didn’t feel like having shoes on today, so I just put on a pair of socks.

Once I was done, I grabbed my phone from the bedside table.

“Guys, please. I can’t answer all zero of my notifications at once.”

“That’s kinda sad, you realize that.”

I jumped at the sound of Jade’s voice from behind me. I turned around to face her only to see her silently laughing at me.

“Hey, I need to keep myself entertained. The best way to do that is to always keep up my amazing sense of humor, even when I’m alone. Besides, are you surprised I don’t have any texts? I live in the pediatric ward of a hospital.”

She only shook her head at me before placing a tray of food on the table.

“It’s still sad. Anyway, you need to eat before your echocardiogram.”

I sighed before complying. I’m so tired of laying down while doctors poke and prod me for answers. I mean come on, is it really that bad if I go outside just for a walk?

Jade left me to eat my eggs alone as she went to see another patient.

“Well then, I guess it’s just you and me Mr. Goldberg,” I pitifully said while putting on You.

Every day at the hospital is just like the last. I do testing, then eat, do more testing, take a walk, maybe go to the day room, do even more testing, sleep, and repeat. I swear one day they’ll transfer me to the mental ward if they keep this up.

I had just finished my eggs and episode six of season two when Jade came back in to see me.

“So, how was your breakfast? Are you still hungry?”

“I’m always hungry, you should know that by now. I’m satiated for now, but give it an hour or so. The food was good though.”

Jade gave me a smile and a small laugh before putting the food tray in a bin in the hallway for the janitors to take back to the cafeteria.

“I know, I know, I’m such a comedian. Maybe I can do that for a living. You think the hospital would employ me?”

She laughed louder this time, putting her hands on my shoulder, prompting me to stand up.

“Come on, sweetie. It’s time for your echocardiogram. Maybe you can come up with new material while they do it.”

I put my hands over my heart in mock defense. “That hurts. That truly wounded me, Jade. I may need to request a new nurse.”

We continued to joke around as we made our way to the fourth floor where they have a cardiologist office.

“Ah, Miss (y/l/n), you’re here, finally,” Mrs. Denver told me as I walked through the door. I gave her a fake smile and rolled my eyes as she turned her back. She’s a very condescending woman.

Jade gave me a pointed look before squeezing my shoulder and leaving me to fend for myself. By now I know the routine. I do whatever tests Doctor Hasting wants me to do and then I’m free to roam the hospital until 1:30 when a nurse meets me in the cafeteria.

“Okay, here’s the dressing gown I need you to change into. You can wait in the last room on your left. The Doctor will meet you there in a minute, but you know that with all the times you’ve come here.”

I gave her another fake smile, “Thank you, Mrs. Denver.”

I made my way to the room she told me to go to and changed quickly. Ugh, this hospital gown does nothing for my figure.

I sat down on the examining table and waited for about five minutes before Doctor Hasting arrived.

“Hello, (y/n), are you ready for your echocardiogram?”

I nodded in response to her words, just wanting to get this over with quickly.

“That’s great and I have some good news for you. We only need to do one other test today, you’ll be done here in about an hour. So let's get started then.”

I sighed in relief before laying on my back as she started to prepare the machines.

True to her word, I was able to leave after about an hour went by. She told me that she would give the information she gathered from my results to one of my nurses once all of the charts are printed.

Smiling, I changed back into my sweatpants and t-shirt and said goodbye to the staff in the clinic.

I made my way to the first level of the building, planning on walking in the garden. I was just about to reach the garden doors when I heard my name being called behind me. Shit.

“(y/n)! (y/n)! I know you can hear me.”

I turned around to face Jade. “Bro, this is some of my only alone time. I’m supposed to meet you in the cafeteria at 1:30.”

She gave me a pointed look, “Well, I’m sorry that I thought you might want to know that you’ve been cleared to visit other patients.”

My eyes widened at her news, “I can go see the kids? Are you being serious?”

She smiled brightly back at me while nodding her head, “You sure can, sweetheart. I know there’s some little patients that have been wanting to see you for the last three weeks.”

For the past month, I’ve been quarantined from the other patients. The doctors have had me pumped with medication that lowers my white blood count and makes it hard for my immune system to fight back any diseases. They figured that the best course of action would be to keep me away from other sick patients.

I know it’s not cool to be excited to hang out with a bunch of kids in a pediatric ward, but I can't help it. They’re amazing kids who are insanely strong considering everything what they are being put through.

I also know that they absolutely love to see me. I mean, who can blame them though. They think it’s cool to be around an older girl and I get some hope back being around them.

“When can I see them?”

“Right now is preferred. There’s actually a very special guest arriving today, so you may not want to miss that.”

I kind of stopped paying attention after Jade told me that I could see the kids right now.

I started walking towards the activity room, “Come on, what are you waiting for?”

Jade laughed at me before meeting me at my side, “You really love those kids don’t you?”

I scoffed, trying to act cool, “They’re okay. I mean okay for a bunch of snot ridden children.”

She rolled her eyes at me, bumping my shoulder. “I don’t blame you for caring about them. They’re good kids. They’re also very brave for facing their illnesses like they do. Kind of reminds me of a certain someone when they were younger.”

I lightly smile while looking away. I don’t remember much of my first hospital visit, but I was told I was unaffected by everything. I didn’t really understand my condition when I was 6, I only knew that I had lost my mom and brother. I do remember my second visit though. I was diagnosed then. It was hard for me to deal with, but I never let anyone know that.

It’s still scary sometimes, knowing that I can die at any time.

We had finally reached the activity room after a couple of minutes.

The room was arranged strangely. All of the chairs and the couches were facing a huge open space at the front. I barely remember Jade mentioning a guest, but even when people do visit, they don’t usually rearrange the room. It takes too much time out of the faculties day.

“(y/n)! You’re here!”

I quickly changed my focus to a little girl in a pink long-sleeved shirt, tutu, and crown.

“Luna! Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty. Hello, you’re majesty,” I finished with a curtsy and a wide smile on my face.

“You may stand,” Luna told me while I chuckled under my breath. She really is something else.

“How are you, princess?”

“I’m great. The doctor told me that the bad thing in my brain is going to go away soon.”

I couldn’t help the tears that began to pool in my eyes as I hugged her. “That’s amazing, Luna. That means you’re going to be all better,” I said, truly happy for her.

“Why were you gone so long?”

She pulled away from my hug as she looked up at me. “I had to do a lot of tests and procedures for the doctors. The medicine they gave me made me really weak and made my monster protection kind of low. That’s why I couldn’t come see any of you.”

Luna jumped up and down, “That means you’re going to be all better too. My mommy always tells me when I have to meet with my doctors that the more I do it, the more I get better. You were gone a long time, so that must mean you’re close to being better too.”

I really didn’t know what to tell her. I know I wasn’t going to get better, but I couldn’t tell her that. She needs to have hope in all aspects of her life.

I turned my head up to meet Jade’s eyes. She held so much sadness in them knowing that the only way I was getting out of the hospital was in a hearse.

I quickly turned back to Luna, “That’s right, honey. But that doesn’t really matter right now. What’s important is that you’re going to be all better really soon.”

She smiled back at me, “You’re going to be healed soon too. James, Elena, William, Quinton! Did you hear (y/n)? She’s going to be better soon.”

I didn’t notice that some of the other kids gathered around Luna and I during our conversation.

I looked back at Jade, not knowing what to do.

Luckily, she saved me, “Come one kids. Our special guest is almost here. Lets get some seats in the front row, yeah?”

I nodded at her in gratitude as she lead the small group to some chairs.

“(y/n), are you coming?” Luna asked me.

“I’m actually going to stand in the back, okay? That way I don’t block any of your guy’s views.”

“Okay!”

I watched as Luna skipped to the front to meet with the rest of her friends. I really do love those kids.

I made my way to the back of the room as some more patients from the pediatric ward came in.

I’ve never seen this big of a turn out for one of these things. It’s kind of weird to be in a room of this many people.

I watched as the last of the kids arrived and took their seats.

Jade surveyed the room before standing in the open space at the front of the room.

“Hello everybody. So, today we have a very special guest. Now, he’s going to be here any second so I want to say a few things. He came all the way from Queens to see all of you so I expect you all to be very nice and pay attention to our guest. Can you all do that?”

A chorus of ‘yes’s rang through the room.

I zoned out after Jade started to talk again. I knew I should probably listen to her, but I honestly didn’t care enough.

The guest speaker was probably some clown or mime coming to cheer up the kids. Then again, she did say the guest came all the way from queens. Maybe, it was some inspirational speaker.

A round of applause and the sound of excited cheers drew me out of my thoughts. I looked back at the front of the room to see what all of the commotion was about.

Is that … Spider-Man?

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cosmicsung · 5 years

Text

terrible things; bang chan

so don’t fall in love, there’s just too much to lose

masterlist in bio | based on terrible things by mayday parade.

happy birthday channie! sorry for posting straight up angst on your birff odifhvod

tw: female reader, death, terminal illness

There were a million things that Chan was able to talk about, or create stories about to entertain his son. Yet, on his son’s 21st birthday, he finally felt the wind taken from his lungs and his tongue stuck in the middle of his throat.

“Why do you never talk about mum?” He asks, swishing his beer around in the semi-frosted mug, “You tell everyone about how you learned about love through her yet you haven’t told me a single thing about her. Where are the pictures? Where are the stories?”

Chan stared at his son. Tears already filling in his eyes because he’s never been able to tell his son how much he looks like you. He’s never had the strength in him to tell his own son the love story that was created by the two of you, but tonight… was different. Tonight Chan needed to tell his son how much he loved you and why falling in love is such a dangerous game, and that’s exactly what he did.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Chan was twenty-two when he first met you. Seeing you across the bar, smiling widely as you sipped on your cosmopolitan and laughing with your friends. His eyes couldn’t leave you. He felt his heart sped up as he watched you say something to your friends before throwing your head back to laugh. There was something about the way you looked while you laughed, the way that he could see your eyes shine under the bar lights and the way you looked so invested in telling your story.

He could barely hear what Woojin was telling him, or what Woojin was trying to tell him as he soon gave up when he noticed that Chan wasn’t even paying attention.

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Woojin asks, setting his glass down and chucking an elbow into Chan’s side teasingly.

“Why in the world would I do that?” Chan laughs, before taking another look at you quickly realizing that you had left the spot. His smile instantly dropped, wondering if maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Of course it was his own fault for not having the courage to even talk to you, but how could he when you were a whole goddess? There wasn’t even a small chance for him to-

“Hey.” A soft voice greeted from behind him.

Woojin choked on his drink and sent glares at Chan to turn around. You were standing right behind him with that same cosmo in your hand and a bright smile wrapped on your lips.

“H-hey.” Chan choked out, not wanting to believe his eyes because maybe fate was playing a trick on him. Or maybe he was too drunk and he was finally going crazy.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, but I saw you staring for quite a while.” You laugh and Chan could feel his heart began to beat out of his chest. After seeing you laugh and wondering what it sounded like, he was finally able to know. “Just wanted to at least say hello or something, my friends all think you’re really cute.”

“My friend thinks you’re really cute too!” Woojin shouts before begin shoved by Chan who turned a dark shade of red.

You giggle, watching the two of them argue under their breaths before Chan turned back around to continue talking to you.

“You aren’t too bad looking yourself though.” You smile before waving goodbye to the two boys.

Chan didn’t know if his ears played tricks on him, he froze in the moment before finally snapping out of it and running to catch up to you.

“Hey!” He calls out, taking a hold on your wrist and spinning you around, “Can I take you out for dinner sometime?”

And you’d never tell Chan, but you were so glad he finally found the courage in him to do it.

It took another week and a half before you received a text message from Chan. You smiled to yourself while reading the message, thinking to yourself that he probably found more confidence because it was short but straight to the point.

‘You, me. Dinner at 7 at the High Point downtown.’

As you thought your Friday night was going to be spent sitting on your couch watching reruns of some crime show, you had to run from your boring office job to your apartment to get ready for a fancy date with one of the most attractive men you have ever laid your eyes on.

You weren’t sure what to expect from the date. Were you nervous? Hell yeah. Were you almost as excited as you were nervous? Most likely. There was something about Chan that was so intriguing to you. Maybe it was the way his dimple pressed into his skin whenever he would smile. Or the way his eyes shone so brightly whenever he would laugh after saying something to his friend.

If only he knew, you were just as interested in him when you first laid eyes on him at the bar as he was with you.

“Hello gorgeous.” He smiled, getting up to greet you. He pulled out the chair for you and called the waiter at the same time to take your drink orders.

His eyes were on you the entire time. Even after you both shared a plate of alfredo because you didn’t realize how expensive the restaurant truly was. Plus you both rather spend the money on the expensive wine that the British waiter kept recommending.

“Sweet grapes that were fermented over a hundred years.” Chan mimicked, in a snooty fake accent before laughing almost to the point of tears.

“Chan stop, he’ll hear you!” You laughed, feeling your stomach ache at the amount of laughing you’ve done the past hour.

You couldn’t help but laugh as hard as he did too. Maybe it was the entire bottle of wine you both shared finally hitting you. Or maybe it was the fact that you were quickly falling in love with a handsome Australian hopeless romantic. His words not yours.

The next few weeks were spent falling deeper in love with Chan and his smallest quirks. The way his nose would crinkle whenever he laughed. His soft curls bouncing whenever the two of you would dance at ungodly hours to music that you both loved. His honey rich accent lacing itself on every word he would say to you, whether it was just a response to you or sweet nothings into your ear while you both were cuddling. Chan had found his way into your heart… and you weren’t opposed to it.

Then on your two year anniversary, you laid on the freshly dewed grass with him. The stars shining brighter than you had ever seen in your life. Your heart racing as you thought back to the item you were dying to show Chan but were at the same time too afraid to know his response.

Chan noticed the change in your demeanor and sat up, looking down at you with a warm smile.

“What is it sweetheart?” He asks, pressing his palm against your cheek.

“Promise you won’t get mad?” You ask in return, hoping that he wouldn’t be upset with you.

“I would never baby.”

“I’m three months pregnant.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re so beautiful.” Chan says through his tears, cooing at his newly born son who was fast asleep in his arms, “You look just like your mum.”

You smile peacefully at the sight of the two of them. Your two most prized loves in the universe. There was nothing that could change the amount of happiness you were feeling right now. At least, that’s what you thought for the next several months.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Leading up to your son’s first birthday, you were scrambling to work enough hours to get a vacation day. You went back and forth from work and home, with little to no hours of sleep with the thought that you were on top of the world for being able to do so. At least that was until you were waiting on your papers to print and the world around you went dark.

“Good morning, Ms. _____.” Doctor Lee greeted, a soft smile on his face. His eyes were bright, reminding you of the once life you had in your body before working way too many hours a week.

“Good morning.. Is everything okay with me? I’m sure it’s just overexertion right?” You start stammering, hoping to God that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with you. There was too much for you to live for.

A great boyfriend and a precious son for you to come home to every night. A wonderful job that took you months to land. You were still so young. There couldn’t be anything seriously wrong. Why would there be? You were pretty healthy. You had flying colors at your last physical exam. There were the occasional migraines that began to frequent more often, but that was only because you were overworking yourself right? You were fine. There couldn’t be anything wrong with you. Right?

“We’ll have to do some more testing, but when we did your initial MRI… we might have found a tumor.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A month passes. You had another few tests performed. Yet there was not a single word, you said to Chan throughout the entire process. You didn’t have the courage in yourself to tell him. You didn’t know how to.

You spent your son’s birthday together, smiling and laughing. Celebrating the life of your precious child, who you would give the entire world to if you could.

The next morning, you had gotten a call from the doctor’s office about the possible tumor being an actual tumor and that you needed to come in immediately for further testing.

You ended the call with tears in your eyes. Yet when you saw Chan turn the corner to walk into the room, you faked the biggest smile and kissed him goodbye, telling him you’d see him after work. He waved a loving goodbye to you with a full heart, holding your son in one hand and your heart in the other.

“There’s a possibility that it’s benign, which can be taken out with surgery.”

“And if it’s not?”

“If it’s not benign, then it would cross the territory of being malignant. A malignant tumor is extremely risky, since it can grow aggressively and rapidly. Then that goes into the talk of what type of tumor it could be, which is many different types.”

Your brain flickers to the thought of Chan and a teardrop rolls down your cheek. Why now? Why after you found your happy ending?

“How long will the testing last?” You ask, feeling your body grow weaker as you think about the series of test you’ll have to go through.

“It depends, but the sooner you start the sooner we can find out.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Five months pass. You hold your hand to your mouth to hold back the sobs that were ready to escape. Your doctor presses a firm hold on your shoulder, hoping to give you comfort yet there was nothing that could give you comfort.

“Glioblastoma. I’m so sorry. It’s too advanced to take out with surgery as it has spread towards your brain stem and most likely will go towards your spinal cord with time.”

“You’re lying.” You cry, feeling the tears continue to fall, “This can’t be true.”

“Would you like for me to call a loved one?”

“How long do I have?”

“From twelve to fifteen months. Throughout the entire process, we will continue to observe you and conduct monthly exams.”

“What if I don’t want the exams?”

Your doctor sighs and nods, almost as if he was expecting to hear you respond with this, “We send you condolences the last exam we give you, which would be today, and let you live the rest of your life the way you would like.”

Every thought you had was clouded by the pain and grief you were feeling in every ounce of your body. You weren’t thinking about your wellbeing, but instead how you wanted to spend your last days with Chan and your son.

“Thank you for everything doctor.”

And that same night, you went home crying. Crying over the fact that just when you thought the stars and planets have finally aligned in your favor, you were thrown the worse curveball you could have ever been thrown.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I booked a babysitter,” Chan whispers, pulling you into a hug as you batted your eyes open, “well.. It’s technically just Woojin, but I got him to watch the baby so we can go out.”

It took you a few seconds to not see stars and focus on Chan’s face, but you smiled anyways. You needed a day with just Change… even if it was just for a night.

You hummed in response, feeling a pain at the side of your head but ignoring it as you had grown used to doing.

“So, let’s get up. Get dressed in something pretty, which won’t be hard because you already are.” He laughs, pressing a kiss on your temple. Little did he know that you wanted to cry at the small gesture. Little did he know that you only had just over a year left together.

You put on one of Chan’s favorite dresses on you. It was rewarding to see that beautiful smile wrap on his lips as he twirled you around in your shared bathroom before he wrapped his arms around you.

“Let’s go live like we did when we first met.” He chuckles, pulling you down to the kitchen where Woojin was sitting as he watched your baby boy.

“We’ll be home by midnight.”

“You better or we both will go out to hunt you down.”

“I promise Woojs, thank you for this.” You smile, as you squeezed his shoulder.

You didn’t know what Chan had instore for the both of you, but you did know that he was taking a hell of a time to drive you two to the place. For most of the day, it was spending a few hours at your favorite breakfast place, laughing and dining together just like you both had done when you first started dating. Now you had been driving together for at least an hour and a half, before you got curious as to where he was taking you.

“Are we there yet?” You whine, turning the music down.

He smiled before checking the clock, “almost there. I swear.”

Then he drove onto a dirt road that lead towards a field of sunflowers. The sun was just beginning to set behind the beautiful, tall flowers. Your head was racing, almost forgetting about the pain that you had been feeling as you wondered of how Chan even knew of a place like this. A place that was almost like it was ripped out of a fairytale book you read as a child.

“What is this?” You ask, getting out of the car as Chan held the door open for you.

“Something I’ve been wanting to show you for months now.” He responds, grabbing your hand to lead you further into the field before you both reached a small fountain in the middle of it.

Now you were really wondering what Chan had up his sleeves.

He grabbed both of your hands, swinging them around softly with that cute little smile on his face. His dimples pressing deeply into his cheeks as he stared at you, almost like he knew that you both didn’t have much time left together.

“Close your eyes.” He whispered after pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. Your heartbeat began to quicken as you closed your eyes, picturing your boyfriend and the beautiful sunset that was beginning to hide behind the tall sunflowers.

“Now,” He says, “open them.”

You opened your eyes to Chan on one knee and a small red velvet box in his hands, revealing a beautiful diamond ring to you.

“Marry me?” He asked, tears filling his eyes to the brim, “marry me because I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else. Marry me because when I laid my eyes on you at that bar, I knew I fell in love. Marry me because you are my soulmate and I wouldn’t change that for anything else in the world. Marry me… because you have my heart and all I want is to be able to call you my forever.”

Your heart sinks. Your smile fades and your eyes pool with salty tears even if you thought you had none left. You wanted to run, but your feet wouldn’t move. You wanted to scream but your voice remained silent. You couldn’t tell him no… but you definitely couldn’t say yes either.

“Baby?” Chan asks, beginning to feel the anxiety of you not answering him eating at him.

Your tears fell to the dry ground, as you fall to your knees. Your cries were silent, but you felt the pain wrapping itself onto every part of your limbs.

“I can’t.” You sob, “Chan I can’t… I’m so sorry. I can’t.”

He immediately wraps his arms around you, bringing a wave of comfort to you even if it wouldn’t fix anything. You couldn’t stop crying. You couldn't stop aching. You couldn’t stop wishing that you were given a better fate.

“Chan.. I’m dying.” You say, almost as a whisper, as you look into his dark brown eyes, “I don’t have long. I was so scared to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Wait what?” His face went pale as the box fell out of his hands. He joined you with both knees on the ground and almost losing all strength in his body to continue.

“I love you Chan. I really do.” You say, your hands finding their way to cup his face, “You were the best thing to ever happen to me baby. I love you and I always will.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Chan doesn’t realize he was crying until his son pointed it out. A shaky chuckle escaped his lips as he took another sip from his, now, room temperature beer.

“Will you tell me?” He asks, reaching out for a comforting hand to his father.

“All I can tell you is to not fall in love… because there’s just too much to lose.”

As there were a million things that Chan was able to talk about, or create stories about to entertain his son. Yet, when it came to the tragically beautiful love story that he had written with you, Chan felt all of the wind escape from him and he wasn’t able to say anything even if his mouth opens.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #kpop scenarios #skzinc #stray kids imagines #bang chan imagines #chan scenarios #chan imagines #skz scenarios #skz imagines #kpop fanfiction #stray kids oneshot #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #angst #stray kids angst #cosmicsung masterlist

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treatian · 3 years

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The Chronicles of the Dark One: Storybrooke, Maine

Chapter 1: Backstory

His name was Mr. Gold.

Mr. Gold was all he'd ever gone by, all he could ever remember being called with perhaps the one exception of Master Gold when he was a boy. Looking back, he couldn't remember a single person who had ever called him by his first name; no teachers, no friends, not even colleagues. No one ever asked him for his first name, and he'd never met anyone who needed it. He was only Mr. Gold. And he liked it that way.

He preferred to be Mr. Gold. Nameless, mysterious, and formal as it was, his lack of a friendly name afforded him a level of respect and fear with those he lived among. Some people worked years to develop that kind of reputation; it came simply by giving a name for him.

"Hi, I'm Gary," they might say, extending a hand.

He had only to stare at that hand, tighten his grip on his cane, and inform them, "you can call me Mr. Gold," and then sit back and take satisfaction in their immediate discomfort.

As a boy, he supposed it was possible his mother might have called him by his first name. His father had always told him that it was she who gave him his first name, after an uncle or a cousin or some relative he'd never met. It didn't particularly matter to him; giving him his name hadn't exactly made his mother want to stay with him. Or his father. Though after she'd left him to grow up with his father, he couldn't say that he blamed her.

His father was a cold man, clever and conniving. He'd often traveled while he'd been alive, leaving him home with the servants who called him Master Gold and entertained him to the best of their abilities. They never particularly cared for him, but to be fair, he never cared for them either. Young as he was, he'd always been aware that they were paid to look after him in his father's stead. Until one day, his father came home, packed a bag, and never came back.

The servants had explained that his father had found work elsewhere that was no place for a boy his age. So he was informed he would be moving across the sea from Scotland to America. His father had a sister there, who lived with her partner, and they'd agreed to keep him with them. All on his own, a boy of only eight, he'd made the journey by plane, then train, then car to his aunt's home in a dreary little place called Storybrooke, Maine.

Somehow he had hoped for more when he'd arrived, that he might have friends or find someone who was happy to spend time with him, but what he found in America was heartbreakingly similar to Scotland. It was another house, filled with servants that helped him dress and tutors to help him learn. At least, his aunts were around, and unlike his father, they did care for him, show him love and consideration, but they isolated themselves from the town they lived. So much so that all of them, himself included, were treated as outcasts.

His aunts were the talk of the town. He didn't go out often, but on occasion, one of the servants who was fond of him took him somewhere as a treat. Everywhere they went, whispers followed.

"That's the young Master Gold," they whispered.

"Gold…as in-"

"The very same!"

"It's scandalous! Imagine, a woman living with another woman as if they were married."

"And now they're raising a child together?!"

"Just goes to show you that when you have money, you can do as you please, no morals!"

As a small child, he never understood what they found so scandalous. As a teenager, he grew to understand their conversations but still didn't understand why they were so flustered by his aunts. It wasn't as if his aunts interjected into the business of others or flaunted themselves about town. For the most part, they stayed hidden and out of sight, sending servants to do their tasks, content to love one another behind closed doors. His aunts never bothered with them, and he couldn't understand why they had to bother with his aunts. As far as he was concerned, they were the best people he'd ever known.

The women doted on him as his father never had, calling him "darling" and "sweetheart" and "dear boy," but they never brought themselves to call him by the name his mother, "that pitiful woman" they called her, gave to him. They played games with him and taught him to knit and cook. His aunts bought him everything he needed or wanted. A dog for a companion, a playground for exercise, a car when he came of age to drive, and a top-notch education at the local catholic school that kept him out of the public schools. He hated the nuns who taught him, he thought they were cruel and judgmental of his family just like the rest of town, but it was because of his education that he earned him a spot at the best law school the country had to offer.

He was sad when he had to leave them for school; away for months on end, he missed his aunts. Storybrooke and the rest of her citizens he couldn't care less for. But his aunts…he missed them terribly. He missed them so much that he returned to Storybrooke and opened his own law firm when he graduated. His aunts were primary investors, of course, but he worked hard and found he was successful. A little of this, a little of that, it was enough to keep him busy, enough to buy him his own home in town where he could stay on the weekdays and go back to his aunts during the weekends. It was an embarrassing rosy pink color, but aside from that, it was perfect. It was one of the biggest houses in town and grand beyond measure. As soon as he had it repainted, it would be nearly as intimidating and mysterious as he prided himself on being. However, that wasn't what his aunts saw when he bought it.

"It's big enough to put a family in, darling!" his aunts smiled when they saw it.

He'd smiled and blushed at their insinuation, but all the while, his stomach turned over. A wife and children…he knew that was the natural order of things, and yet…he couldn't see it for himself, and it wasn't something he wanted enough to pursue. He couldn't see himself ever meeting someone that would make him want to give them his first name. He couldn't imagine having a child and potentially screwing them up as his father and mother had with him. He couldn't see how any woman would ever want to deal with his leg.

It was a burden. And the cane was a pain. Truthfully, he couldn't remember the injury. It felt like he'd had it all his life, but he was cane free in his memories as a boy and at law school. He assumed it was a car accident, perhaps something that crushed his ankle and took his memory away because when he tried to remember, tried to pull a memory from his mind to relate to it, he found a blinding pain in the back of his skull that demanded he stop thinking about it. There were times he tried to remember to ask his aunts what had happened, but he always seemed to forget. Probably because his aunts thought nothing of the affliction, they treated him no differently, no better or worse than they ever had with it. But he was certain a woman wouldn't want someone as broken as he was. True, his family had enough money he could shower any woman in jewels all the rest of her life, take her around the world on grand, expensive trips, meet all the most powerful people in the world. But he didn't want a woman who only wanted him for his wealth. He wanted something real; like his aunts had. After years of watching them together, years of battling back the stigma, and just being happy to be with one another, that was the life he dreamed of having. But he had so little experience with the opposite sex he had no idea how he'd ever discern what was real from fake. So there was no need to take the risk. Besides, why did he need to? Things were good. He had his reputation, had a home that he loved, and had his aunts…why did he need more?

It was September when his world fell apart.

His aunts died barely a month apart. Cancer had claimed his aunt's partner quickly, so quickly he hadn't been prepared for it, and nor had she. A few weeks later, his father's sister had died. The doctors gave him a laundry list of reasons why it had happened; old age, failing heart, high blood pressure...but he knew why it had really happened. She'd died of a broken heart. He was a stern and serious man, unrelenting and unforgiving; it was what made him a good lawyer. He believed in material things, in money and power, in black and white, and things he could see. But he believed, truly, with his whole heart, that it was heartbreak that took her. His love hadn't been enough to keep her on this earth. And so they'd left him alone in it.

In the months that followed, he wished he wasn't a lawyer. He knew, from experience, that it should have been easy. He should have made funeral arrangements, liquidated their property and their assets dismissed the staff, and gone on with his life. But nothing was simple, and he soon learned the truth about his aunts that led to complications.

Why had the townspeople always bothered with them when his aunts had never bothered with the town? Because they had bothered with the town. It was theirs.

He hadn't known it until after their death when documentation they'd had since before he'd even moved to America arrived, explaining to him that the land Storybrooke rested on belonged to his father and his aunt. Because his father couldn't be located, he was next of kin, and now it was his and his alone. The land, rental agreements, business contracts...legally, it was all his. The town existed and had a government of its own that demanded taxes, but everything outside the scope of politics fell to him. He loved his aunts, but he'd never been angrier in all his life. They'd never explained any of it to him, never told him why they owned the land or the contract they had with the city, they never taught him how to collect the rents or deal with the mayor.

He didn't want to do it. In fact, he was tempted to turn it over to the Mayor and let her handle it, but he could hear the voice of his father in the back of his head preaching to him about money and power. Whether he'd planned on it or not, he was the most powerful citizen of the town. It wasn't something he took lightly, and he wasn't about to give it up easily. So he didn't. He crafted a persona for himself; he created a new mask, one that he wore for the Mayor, for the police, for the tenants he had to collect rent from, and the family he'd hired to help him. Mr. Gold was a name everyone knew. They didn't dare whisper about him or his aunts, not in his presence, lest he raise their rent. They didn't cross him. They didn't approach him. They didn't bother him. For the most part, they let him be. It was good, but it also meant that his firm suffered the consequences.

It was fine. He didn't need the money; he didn't need to work. His aunts had set him up so that he could sit at home for the rest of his life and never leave the house if he so pleased, just as they had. But he wasn't them. They'd had each other, and they'd had him. He had no one, and he found himself longing for structure, for something to invest his time in, for something to occupy his days when he wasn't collecting rent or arguing with Regina Mills.

The answer came to him when one of his tenants on Main Street informed him they wouldn't be renewing their lease. Oak's Pawn Shop and Antiques was closing. Mister Oak, his wife, and his dog were moving to Florida for retirement. They planned to sell the merchandise and move out, but when he stepped inside to talk about their contractual obligations, his heart had stopped.

He loved old things. He loved their delicacy, the story behind each one, the mystery that their history presented him with. He loved the feel of the dust beneath his fingers and the coziness of the little shop. The bell on the door was darling, but it suited the place, the squeaky antique spinning wheel was familiar in a strange way, and every little thing he saw or touched seemed inviting. It felt like coming home. He hadn't had that since his aunts had died.

Foolish as it was, he'd made a deal with the Oaks on the spot, leave the shop to him, and he'd let them out of their contract and pay them a handsome sum of money. They'd taken the deal right then and there. Two weeks later, they moved to Florida. Three weeks later, a new sign was installed over the door that said, "Mr. Gold Pawnbroker and Antiques Dealer." He taught himself the business, read every book the Oaks gave to him, let his new work consume him, and soon fell into a happy routine.

Each morning he woke up, stretched, and got into the shower. He dressed in a suit, adding layer after layer to make any who felt the need to deal with him feel underdressed. That was a trick he'd learned as a lawyer. In the morning, he read the newspaper, cooked himself some breakfast, eggs usually, with spinach if he had it. He drove to town and parked his car in the lot or on the street. He didn't live far from work, but he wasn't about to walk there. With his leg, he'd never manage, and besides, walking might give the impression he cared about something. He walked down the street every morning. Sometimes people lifted their eyes to him in acknowledgment. He never returned the favor. As he unlocked the door to his shop, he glanced at the abandoned library on the corner across from him. It always made him feel uneasy, probably because it was becoming an eyesore. One of these days, he was going to file a complaint with Regina about that, but today there was too much to do.

Inside the shop, he opened the blinds and took a deep breath of the musty smell that came with age. It still felt like home, probably more like home than his pink house, which he still needed to get painted. He turned the sign behind him to "open" in case someone felt like coming in to make a deal but then escaped to the back room just like always. It was his favorite place in his shop. The spinning wheel he'd first seen when he bought the place was back here, along with a fold-away cot for nights he got carried away and just decided to sleep there. There were two tables crowded into the back that he could use to polish or repair or clean or whatever he needed to do. On the table was an old clock he'd bought that no longer worked. That was his task for today.

It was just another day in Storybrooke.

#Rumbelle #Rumpelstiltskin #Rumple #Mr. Gold #Storybrooke #ouat #ouat fanfic #fanfic

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saiilorstars · 4 years

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Next Stop, Everywhere

Chapter 23: Things Change

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

(Minerva’s face claim: Victoria Camacho)

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Chapter summary: Minerva finally comes home to see someone very special to her and hopefully raise her spirits a bit.

// Story Masterlist //

The Doctor entered my room with another dessert in his hand, a hopeful look on his face as he approached my bed.

"Doctor, I said I wanted vanilla pudding," I informed, giggling when his hope turned into irritation. It was far too much fun irritating him like that. Since I'd been stuck in bed for a good while, I had to find a source of entertainment somewhere.

"Are you serious?" He frowned.

I nodded, "I said clearly that I wanted vanilla..." But my certainty faded when I started to think about it. This had been happening for a while too. "...or...maybe I did say chocolate...hm...no, wait, pistachio?"

The Doctor sighed and sat down on the chair beside my bed. He wasn't very surprised about my doubt, neither was I by this point. "Don't try to think too hard. It could hurt you."

"Sorry," I reached for the vanilla pudding, "But thank you for tolerating my indecision."

"It's alright, although I'm seriously not okay with you rejecting the banana pudding," he gave me a sharp look.

"I told you, I like banana in everything...except pudding form."

He shook his head, "Why would you say that?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, "It's just its yellow color sort of reminds me of like the goop of your brain or something...ew."

"Seriously?" he raised an eyebrow, "That's your excuse?"

"I'm sorry if I don't want to eat a pudding brain," I said as innocently as possible, "It's what it reminds me of."

"Your comparisons are wrong," he pointed.

"And so is this," I waved the vanilla pudding, "I think I did say chocolate."

"Minerva just eat the bloody pudding," he snapped, "Or I'll force it down your throat."

"Ouch, you're rude today," I said innocently as I took a spoonful of my pudding.

"Sorry," he immediately apologized, his genuine sorriness making me feel bad because this wasn't such a big deal. Like I said, I'd been bedridden for some time now and I needed to find fun somewhere.

"I was just joking around, Martian, don't overreact."

"Is there anything else you need?" He stood up and fluffed the pillow behind me, "Are you thirsty? Do you want a milkshake?"

"I'm still eating my pudding," I reminded, waving my spoon as he stepped back.

"Right, right," he nodded, "Are you sure you're okay? Nothing hurts?"

I smiled, shaking my head, "Nope, I feel fine. Just fine. Why do you keep asking that? Martha does the same thing. So I lost my memory, but I'm okay."

For some reason, my memories of the last couple months had been lost. I could barely see the faint images of the Family shooting the Doctor, Martha and I in the TARDIS. And a watch...and Kaeya's necklace. But that was it. After that, I couldn't remember a thing.

About a week ago, I woke up in my room in the TARDIS without a clue of how I'd gotten there. It was a bit scary at first, not knowing what happened to me but the Doctor and Martha had quickly established I was alright despite the small memory loss. They explained two months had passed since we were shot down in the TARDIS. We'd gone into hiding in the year 1913, the Doctor posing as John Smith who was a school teacher. Martha and I had been assigned as his 'inherited' maids. Figures we'd end up serving the Martian. But according to them, we had been discovered a month early and chaos had arose. In the end, the Doctor returned and helped save us again. It sounded right, but I couldn't remember.

All I had as a memory from that adventure was a big ole burnt spot on my neck, which Martha continuously said was the origin of my memory loss. But no matter how many times I asked why she thought that, or what caused the burned spot, she wouldn't answer. I would even ask the Doctor and he would just wave it off or avoid the answer altogether. I knew there was more than they weren't telling me, it was especially obvious in the Doctor.

He seemed guilty, he seemed thoughtful, distracted. There were times where we were talking and suddenly I'd find that he wasn't listening to me; his mind was somewhere else. I wondered what made him think so much. I asked Martha about it but she seemed mad so she tended to divert the answer. She just said that it was his fault and he should know by now. That only made me more confused. I had one distracted friend and another angry friend. I suspected something else had happened in 1913, but neither of them would say more about it and I just couldn't remember anything.

But one thing that I clearly saw was how guilty the Doctor looked. I didn't understand why but I assumed he felt the memory loss was his fault for bringing us to 1913. As much as I told him it wasn't his fault, he claimed he wasn't guilty and that he was alright.

What a liar.

And due to the Doctor's guilt, he had taken the job of aiding me this last week very seriously. While he couldn't cook anything, I was always brought a good meal three times a day, made by Martha. He never left my side unless there was something truly wrong in the TARDIS that needed his services. Every five minutes, he always asked if I was alright and if I needed something. At first, I did care for his extra attention, but when I noticed how unhappy he was, how distracted and absent he was at times, it made me realize how wrong something was. I wanted to know what it was to then know how to fix it and then do it so he could be happy again.

"I'm sorry, Minerva," the Doctor took my hand, snapping me out of my thoughts, "I'm really sorry."

"Sorry about what?" I frowned, liking our hands interlocking but the fact he looked sad took it away.

"You don't remember?"

"Nothing yet, sorry," I shrugged.

He sighed, nodding and patting my hand, "It's alright. You don't have to be sorry for that."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Because you've been a terrible liar this past week."

"Everything's fine," he pulled a small smile, easily fake.

"You're lying," I whispered, watching his eyes intently. He did the same thing no matter how casual he wanted to act. It was fairly easy to catch when he couldn't even meet my gaze for more than a few seconds. "You're broken inside."

"How do you know that?" he tried acting like what I was saying had no relevancy.

"Because just like you could read my eyes, I can read yours. And right now, they're telling me they've seen something that broke you. You're not okay and it actually hurts me that you don't have the sufficient trust to tell me."

"I trust you, I do."

"No you don't, because we tell each other everything and right now you're choosing to hide it. Why?"

"There's just some things I'm not ready to say."

"Is it about Kaeya?"

"What?" He sounded edgy about that so I knew it had something to do with her.

"Kaeya's alive and you've made no remarks about it. No smiles, no happy dances, no nothing. She's the love of your life and you're not even smiling that she's still breathing somewhere in the world."

That was what confused me the most! A week ago, I informed him the love his life was alive and was returning for him. That was actually the only memory I had from 1913; Kaeya's message. As soon as I woke up in my room, her words ran through my head: "I am alive". While it broke my heart that she was coming back, it did make me just the slightest happy that the Doctor hadn't lost his love in the war. I thought he'd be extremely happy, giddy, jumping off the walls out of excitement...

...but there was nothing.

I would've thought he would've started his own search for the princess just to meet even earlier. But instead, he had stayed with the boring ole human that was me. He took care of me, even more than Martha I dare say because she had to go and sleep...but not him. He stayed, literally 24/7 all last week, just because I lost some memories of two months, and the necklace I had worn left me a bit weak. Bad as it was, I liked he chose me this time, even if it was just for a small moment.

"She's not the love of my life.." the Doctor said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"But you love her, don't you? You never stopped even if Rose was able to sneak her way into your hearts. You loved her too but it doesn't compare to Kaeya's love." I was a bit bitter but I think it's understandable.

He frowned, "I didn't love Rose."

"Yes you did. She loved you. I know it." It's not like her attitude or threats had anything to do with the fact she loved him...

"Well, perhaps she did but that doesn't mean I loved her. I mean, okay, yes, I admit it...I did have some affection for her, I was attracted...but love? No. I didn't. I don't."

My eyes widened as I processed his words, "...you...you don't?"

"No," he was smiling about this for some reason, "I don't. I never did, Minerva. Why would you think that?"

"Well, Doctor, you didn't exactly portray just friendship with Rose. You held hands, you were always together...and when I was there...there were times where you two would just...forget that I was even in the same room with you and you'd give each other these little looks that...that just yelled 'love'."

"Minerva, I will never finish apologizing for that time that you felt ignored, really...I am so sorry," he reached for my hand and took it into his. "And yes, I do admit there were times where I did consider Rose being...more than a friend...but something didn't feel right about that."

"Cos she's human?" I asked quietly, looking down as I thought about myself. What if he didn't want me solely because of that trait, that thing that made any fantasy about us being together for a lifetime impossible?

"Cos there was no actual spark."

"But you were attracted to her!"

"There's a difference between attraction and actual love. Yeah, alright, I was attracted to her in the beginning. I won't deny it. But...I don't know, there was just something that made it not happen."

"So...you never loved her?"

"No, I never loved her."

"Oh..." And I was smiling stupidly. Even if Rose wasn't here, it did make me feel somewhat better to learn that she had never gained his love. It was stupid, but...it made my heart skip just a littler faster to know that she had been wrong. The Doctor never loved her.

Of course then I remembered about Kaeya...

"But you still love Kaeya," I whispered, snatching my hand away from his as discreetly as possible.

"I..." he shook his head, "...let's talk about something else, yeah?"

"Why aren't you happy that she's coming back? I mean, she loves you, you love her, why aren't you happy?"

"Cos...cos, um..." He opened his mouth yet closed it as soon as he opened it. Instead, he just...stared at me. Normally, I'd be all giddy and smiley but this was another look he'd been doing all this week. While it did make me blush, I knew there was something more behind it. Something he didn't want to tell me...

"Cos what?" I asked, hoping that this time would be the lucky one that would give me all the answers I wanted.

"Have you ever felt like your head is just so...jumbled up?" He said instead. It was rather confusing how our conversation steered towards the new topic but I followed.

"Um...I suppose, with my family?" I shrugged, noticing how grim he had turned. "Why do you ask?"

"Cos that's what I've felt lately. Like, I think I know what I want, but..."

"There's doubt?"

"Maybe, I don't know," he sighed.

"What are you so jumbled about, then? A suit to wear?" I teased, getting a small laugh back.

"Ha, ha," he rolled his eyes, "I am being serious here."

"That doesn't sound like you, Martian," I smiled, "It must be serious, huh?"

"Very," he stared again for another minute or two.

I coughed, looking away as I blushed for his lingering looks, "What's it about? Kaeya?"

"Um...half."

"Half? What does that even mean?"

He just smiled sadly, "I'm just confused, that's all. But, enough about me, I don't want burden you with more things."

"Oh c'mon, I've told you my whole life story and you think you're burdening me with a small problem?"

"It's not small, it's really important," he sighed, "Consider it as something between life and death."

At that, I grew silent. I looked down to my hands and fiddled with my fingers as a recurrent thought ran through my mind, "Doctor...um...there's something that's been, uh, in my head for a couple of days now..."

"Did you remember something!?" He sounded alarmed for some reason, nearly jumping out of his seat.

"No," I looked up, a bit concerned. What did he looked so...jumpy about that?

"Oh...okay," he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as he slumped back on his chair, "What's going on?"

"You told me that I risked my life in 1913, and I can't even remember what I did..." I sighed, "...and it's made me think, cos...what if whatever I was trying to do succeeded and I died?"

"Don't think of that, please," he shook his head.

"It really terrifies me that I can't remember being close to death...I was gonna die..."

"N-n-n-no, don't cry," he reached with a hand to wipe the tears that I hadn't even realized were going down my face.

"I'm sorry," I sniffled, half-smiling.

He didn't even say a word before he got on my bed, moving right beside me to give me a hug, "Okay, I know this is gonna make me sound so bad as a friend but...your life has been threatened a lot of times since you've met me. What's the difference now?"

I chuckled a little through my sniffles, "Because this time I can't remember it. What if I had died? I would've died in 1913, my family never knowing what happened to me...my grandmother..."

"But it didn't happen, it never will because I won't allow it," he moved his hand down to my waist and brought me closer to him, "Human or alien, I shall not."

"Yeah, thanks for whatever you did back there," I patted his hand, "But it's made me think, it's really had an impact on me. I don't want to die and leave my grandmother without the knowledge of my death. She doesn't deserve that."

"So what do you want to do about it?"

Silence.

"Minerva?"

I bit my lip and looked up at him, "I...I want to visit her..." I whispered.

He stiffened, silence falling for a mere minute before he became ecstatic, "Really!? You want to see her!?"

I nodded, "I don't want to die without seeing her again. I miss her so much, Doctor...I need to see her. Do you think I can go?"

"This must be a trick question, of course you can go!"

"So I can get out of bed now?"

"Yes, but no excess of movement," he warned letting go of me and standing up.

"We can go right now?" I barely breathed at the idea of seeing my sweet old grandmother again, "Yes?"

"C'mon!" he pulled me to my feet.

"I have to get changed," I ran to my mirror to get a good look at myself, "I have to fix my hair," I grabbed a piece of my hair, "Brush it, no! I've got to shower! And then brush it! And then find something acceptable to wear. No excessive heels, she hates it! She doesn't like brown either, but it's okay because I hate brown dresses! They make me look ugly!"

The Doctor just laughed, "Brown would look lovely on you and I'm sure your grandmother would agree."

"You don't know what you're saying, brown on me does not look good. But anyways, something serious here," I turned to him, my excitement all gone and replaced with seriousness, "Do you think my grandmother forgave me?"

"What?" he frowned and walked up to me, "What happened to the big smile on your face? Bring it back," he poked my cheek, making me chuckle for a moment.

"I'm serious. When I left, she was destroyed. She lost Olivia, and it wasn't too long ago that she lost my grandfather. Then I filed against my parents, against her daughter. I filed, despite knowing what it would do to her and when I won, I left her. She told me I could stay with her if I really wanted to leave my parents...but I ignored her and I left. I did that to her...I can't imagine she forgave me."

He set his hands on my shoulders, looking me straight in the eye, "Minerva, you are her granddaughter. The only one she has now. She doesn't have anything to forgive because she's not angry with you. She just wants to see you."

"But you can't be sure of that..."

"You're forgetting I had grandchildren of my own. I could never hate any of them, despite what they could've done. I loved them, and I always will. That's exactly how your grandmother feels about you."

"But is she proud of me? Would you be proud of them if they did everything I did?"

"I would always be proud of them," he smiled softly, "Just like she would always be proud of you."

"Thanks," I whispered, letting him hug me, "What would I do without you?"

"...your life would be a lot easier."

I pulled away, "And miserable," I walked for my closet, the thought of him never being in my life was just so unimaginable. I would never want to live in a world where he never met me. I couldn't.

"I'll call for Martha, then," the Doctor cleared his throat, walking for the door, "She can help you get ready."

"Yes because your sense of style is..." I looked him over, while I wanted to say how handsome he looked, I couldn't very well say that. Apart from my blushing, I would never hear the end of it from is smug lips. "...not so good."

"Says the girl in her nightie," his eyes looked me over with smirk.

"Shush," I hugged myself, "And get out."

"Oh go on then, I'll go call Martha to help you with your clothes. Take it easy, yeah?" I nodded and he pressed a kiss to my forehead, getting a blush from me.

"Yeah," I whispered, both of us smiling at each other in silence for couple seconds before he walked out.

I took a long sigh, knowing it wouldn't ever happen but still...I liked our closeness. Suddenly the idea of leaving the box of wonders and the Martian didn't seem so easy to do...

~0~

"Voila!" Martha clapped, forcing a little twirl out of me, "You know, maybe apart from being a doctor, I could have my own makeover show on the side."

I chuckled, "I'd be your number one fan." We both chuckled until I looked myself over. "Do you think she'll like it?"

"Mhm," Martha nodded.

"Thank you Martha," I hugged her.

"No problem," she pulled away, "I think you're grandmother is going to love it..." she stepped beside me, the usual innocent face she had before she made certain remarks. "...just like the Doctor will."

Ah, those remarks.

But actually, thinking on those two...something had changed. Martha was always telling me that I should tell the Doctor how I felt, but she had ceased to do that since last week. Instead, she focused on just turning his head. I thought it was extremely strange that she would stop altogether like that. But I also believed it was for the best; there was just no point in making a fool out of myself especially now that Kaeya was on her way back.

Martha had gotten right on the job as soon as the Doctor had told her I finally decided to see my grandmother. She had picked out an emerald-green, long-sleeve blouse that was tucked under a black skirt. I wore tights underneath with ankle-length black boots, my hair let down with only a black headband keeping it from my face.

"I really want to make a good impression on her," I sighed as I went for the door.

"Minerva, you're her granddaughter, impression kind of made already," Martha laughed as she followed.

I rolled my eyes, "I'm serious. When I left, I was just fourteen. I haven't seen her in three years, nearly four! I've grown, and I've...neglected her. I ignored her calls and when I did take them I hung up. Martha, I'm very, very, very nervous."

"I noticed," she moved besides me, "The world's noticed."

I bit my lip, "I just really hope she's forgiven me."

"She will, she will," Martha swung her arms around my shoulders and we walked off.

~0~

I stood in front of my grandmother's door and I'm pretty sure I've been stuck like this for a good fifteen minutes. The door was right there but my entire body was frozen in place. There were too many things running through my head and none of them were making me feel better about this. "You know what, I changed my mind," I turned around and moved to walk away.

"I don't think so," the Doctor blocked the way in time, almost looking like he had expected me to do something like this. "Knock."

Martha crossed her arms and nodded, "We're not going anywhere."

I sighed and turned back to the door, "But...what if she doesn't wanna see me...I just got up and left...I can't do this," I shook my head and turned around, determinedly making my way down the front steps of the porch.

They both grabbed my arms, actually lifting me up from the ground and pulled me back to the door. Martha knocked on the door while the Doctor took a tight hold of my arm.

"Martha! Don't do that!" I exclaimed, completely horrified.

"Too late," she smirked.

"But she might not wanna see me-"

"Would you shush it up already?" the Doctor snapped, "She is your grandmother and she definitely wants to see you. That guilt you have is nonsense."

"But-"

The door opened up suddenly, leaving me completely silent.

"Hm, so that's how you keep her quiet, then," the Doctor blinked, looking like he had the answer to the world. "Good to know."

I elbowed him in the ribs.

My sweet, old grandmother looked from the Doctor, Martha and I. She kept her eyes trained on me and when I met her gaze, I couldn't believe she was actually standing there. "...Minerva?"

The Martian let go of me and stepped back, Martha following seconds later.

I bit my lip, the tears stinging in my eyes. She didn't look so angry with me so that was a good sign. "Grandma?"

She hadn't changed a bit! Her short, grayish hair was neatly tucked in her short curls. Her piercing jade-green eyes remained youthful and colorful despite her actual age. She was a bit taller than I, but only by a few inches. Her skin was a bit wrinkled, but not as bad she always used to claim.

"It's you!" She exclaimed, opening her arms and coming up quite fast for a woman her age. She encased me in a big hug with such a tight grip. "It's you! It's you! My Minerva! Oh, it's you!"

Even though I was partially frozen for a few seconds, the sniffling still found a way out. "It is..."

"My granddaughter, my sweet little Minerva. It's you..."

My arms finally found their way around her for an equally tight hug. "Hi grandma," I whispered, resting my head on her shoulder, her sweet familiar caramel scent filling my nose.

"I can't believe you're back! Oh!" She laughed and pulled away, her hands on my arms as she looked me over, "Oh my Lord, you're so big! A proper, young woman. And ever so beautiful!"

"You're not the only one who thinks that," Martha muttered, a small grunt coming out of her seconds later. The Doctor had elbowed her. It seemed my little habit was contagious because now all of us did it to each other.

"You're so beautiful, Minerva!" And I got another hug from my grandmother. I would definitely keep accepting them!

"So are you," I mumbled. I had missed three years of seeing her and it was just now catching up to me.

But she just laughed, "Oh please, I got old!" she started wiping my tears off my face, "Now don't cry. Don't you ever get tired of that?"

"I ask her that all the time," the Doctor said, "Ow!"

Martha elbowed him.

"Oi, I was just agreeing," the Doctor mumbled.

"Well don't!"

My grandmother stared at them with amusement, "Are these your friends?" I nodded silently. She took my hand and walking us further through the porch, "Are you responsible for returning my granddaughter to me?"

"He's the designated driver," Martha pointed at the Doctor, "But I helped too."

Grandma just laughed, "Well thank you both! You have no idea how happy I am to see her back." She looked at me with a soft smile on her face, "So, so happy."

"Told you she'd be," the Doctor smirked.

"Martha," was all I said for her to elbow him.

"I'm gonna be quiet now," he murmured afterwards.

"That would be a first," I smirked.

"Hello there," Martha stepped up, holding her hand out for my grandmother, "I'm Martha Jones, Minerva's current best friend."

"Isadora Lozano," she shook Martha's hand, "And what happened to the other boy? The nice one, Mickey?" She glanced at me.

"Um...he's left for a trip..." I answered, sighing. That would be as much as I would be able to say about Mickey, unfortunately. "..a very long trip."

"Oh, good for him, then," she smiled and looked at the Doctor, "Hello, Isadora Lozano."

"Nice to meet you, I'm-"

"The Doctor," she flashed a grin, turning into a smirk at the surprise we all shared. "Ah, might be old but the memory is still on check."

"Have we met before?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, studying her.

"Once," she nodded, "Seems like it hasn't happen it yet, huh?"

"How do you mean?" the Doctor smiled, easily confused yet suspicious. By the way she spoke one would think she knew of time traveling...

"Minerva, how old are you?" she asked, still looking at the Doctor.

"Seventeen." There was something going on in my grandmother's head but I probably wouldn't be able to figure that out right now.

"So it hasn't happened yet!" she snapped her fingers, "Right then, come on inside."

"Why does it sound like she knows of time travel?" Martha whispered as we followed.

"Because I think she just might," the Doctor breathed in.

I would've been more concerned but I was in my house, my real house. It hadn't even changed a bit. The living room was up first, two couches set up in the middle and two couch chairs on opposite sides with a table in the center and a television set up on the wall I walked over to a corner, seeing old toys of mine still laying there. Then the pictures of our family were still where I remembered them. Despite nothing really changing, it felt like a lot had. My grandfather's loss was still as fresh as ever and with all the pictures around that consisted of him...it wasn't helping. There were even pictures of Olivia and I...

Oh, things had definitely changed.

"You remember Stacey had a little sister, Tamara," Grandma said, seeing me pick up an old doll of mine, "She loves Lucy."

"Who's Stacey?" Martha asked.

"And Tamara?" added the Doctor.

I stood up with my doll in hand, turning to them, "Stacey was a childhood friend I used to play with all the time. And Lucy was, well," I waved the doll, "She was my favorite doll as a kid."

"Stacey has a little sister, she's about five," Grandma cut in, "She comes around because she claims Minerva's toys are the best."

"Well I did have good taste," I tucked a strand of my doll's hair. It was brunette just like mine. "She really likes Lucy?"

"Oh yes."

I walked back to them, setting Lucy on the couch, "Then I'll bring it over later. Do they still live in the same house?"

"Yes, two houses down, across the street. You know, Stacey left for college a couple months ago. Have you picked one out, yet?"

I made a face. That was certainly a topic I wouldn't have chosen to talk about right now. "Right...about that, I haven't graduated yet," I rubbed my neck.

"Why not? It's nearly October, you should've been done three months ago."

"I've gotten a bit distracted but I promise I am working."

"Let's just say Minerva's focus has shifted a bit in the last couple of months," Martha smirked.

"Martha, come over a sec?"

She stepped back, covering her stomach, "No you're gonna elbow me."

I mock-glared at her for a minute before returning to my grandmother, "I promise I'm still working. It'll just take a bit longer."

"I trust you," she pointed a warning finger at me, "But let's not talk about school, I wanna know what you've been up to. What have you done lately? Are you okay? You're healthy right? You've been sleeping well? Where've you gone lately?"

I chuckled at her curiosity, it was as big as mine, "I'll tel you, don't worry."

"Uh, Minerva, if you want, we can leave for some time," Martha offered, the Doctor nodding in agreement, "We can take a look at the city, San Diego was always a place on my bucket list."

"I don't know..." I did want to speak to my grandmother alone but I felt guilty for leaving my two friends alone in a place they've never been to. Well, the Doctor could handle himself...actually scratch that, Martha could handle herself.

"Oh go on," the Doctor grinned, "I'm sure Martha and I have lots to see in this place. Never been around here, mind you..."

"Please don't go ruining things," I pleaded, half joking yet another half dead serious, "This place isn't like the city, city. It's a small suburb. There are children in the streets, playing...don't start a riot."

"Minerva, you say such things," my grandmother chuckled.

"Oh grandma..." I smiled at her, discreetly showing the Doctor I was dead serious of my warning.

"We'll be out then," Martha walked around the couch, hugging me as I stood up, "Good luck," she whispered with an encouraging nod.

The Doctor came over next, giving me a hug as well, "You deserve it, Clever Girl."

"I still feel guilty," I whispered as we parted.

"All nonsense," he pressed a kiss to my forehead then looked past me to my grandmother, "Mrs. Lozano, you have a very stubborn granddaughter."

I glanced back at her, not even gonna argue on that one just because it was her. If it had been the Doctor all on his own I would've elbowed him already. But not my grandmother, she was just...she was here...I was here. We were here together.

"Sophia's stubbornness," she added, "Lord knows that's how she and her brother got into arguments."

"That's how these two get into arguments," Martha informed of the Doctor and I.

"Oi," we shot her a look.

"And we're off," Martha raised her hands in surrender and walked for the door.

"Don't be a danger," I warned the Doctor, gripping his hands so he wouldn't run off and then claim I never said such thing, "I'm serious."

"I will behave," he pulled for his freedom.

"Yeah?"

He sighed and put on a grin, "Yeah."

"I'm holding you to that," I gave him a warning look, "I'm serious."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, we'll be back later," he chuckled.

I cracked a smile, his laugh just contagious to me, "Alright," and I let go.

I watched them go until the door was shut. I took a deep breath and turned to face my grandmother who wore a smile, which if really focused enough looked more like a smirk, "Grandma?"

"Anything you want to tell me?"

"Hm?"

She raised an eyebrow, it was the same look she gave me as a child when I wouldn't do my chores.

"It's nothing, grandma," I looked around with discomfort. I fixed my skirt in an attempt to distract myself.

"Minerva, you may be almost grown up but I can still tell when you're lying," she took my hand and sat us down, "C'mon dear, it's been nearly four years since we've talked and now that I finally have you in front of me, I see that you're smitten!"

"Oh no..." I looked away from her, this was definitely not what I wanted to talk about with her as our first topic.

"Don't be embarrassed dear, you're forgetting I was married once. I also loved someone."

"I don't lo..." I paused when I really focused on that subject. Last time I remembered, I knew for a fact that what I felt for the Doctor was not love. It was just the first stage, a simple crush. Simple affection. But now that I think of it, as of now, I can't really say that anymore. I felt like, somehow, I was getting closer to being in love. It was like my heart had taken in a fresh new layer of feelings, but why? Why would I suddenly feel like that?

"Hmm?" My grandmother's smirk had turned into a playful, teasing smile, "What better way to start catching up then by explaining to me what's going on in your heart?"

I bit my lip, debating whether this was really appropriate. I mean, this was my grandmother! I'm supposed to talk about cookies and teach her modern phrases...not...not talk about men.

"Minerva? I'm waiting," she gave me a sharp look, "I'll understand you sweetie, if that's what you're worried about. I may not be your mother but we understand each other perfectly, so speak."

"Grandma, I...I never felt like this before. He's just so..." I sighed, smiling softly, my grandmother chuckling, "...unbelievable, to put it at best. He's impossible. Unlike anything and anyone you've ever met."

"Oh and he's got you locked in, doesn't he?" her laughter continued.

"Yeah," I answered quietly, blushing as I pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, "It's that obvious, huh?"

"Just a bit, dear," she patted my hand, "You're very smart, I know you are, but it is quite easy to see."

"Yeah, well, it's easy to see except for him. I'm just a friend," I shrugged.

"And that breaks your heart, doesn't it?" she rested a hand on my arm, sighing when I nodded, "You want to hear a story about your grandfather and I?"

"What's it about?"

"How we met!"

"How does it go?" I scooted closer, curiosity bursting out of me.

"Well, we were just friends. Your grandfather always said that what he liked about me was that I always pushed to learn and do things, not stick to the housewife stereotypes. Most women were preparing for marriage and I...I wouldn't have that," she chuckled lightly, "That's the reason he started talking to me, you know. He said I was like none other, completely different!"

I smiled, "That's what I'd like for the Doctor to see. I'm not like any other human. I'm not Rose, I'm not Martha, I'm me. I'm different."

What I really meant to say what that I was different from all human females. I wanted the Doctor to see that I could keep up with him most of the time whereas Martha or Rose usually couldn't. I wasn't trying to seem better than them because they were good in their own ways, but I just wanted him to see I was different. But nothing could compare to Rose or Kaeya...

"Rose, that was, um, your best friend's girlfriend, right? What was his name, Mickey!" she snapped her fingers, "Yeah! And it was Rose Tyler, daughter of Jackie Tyler."

"Yeah, that's them," I sighed.

"What's happened to them, dear? I usually tried Mickey's number but now it says it doesn't exist."

"They're gone, grandma. They're happy, but they're gone." Well, I mean, Rose wasn't happy...

"And back to the point, you are most definitely not any of them. You're Minerva Joycelin Souza Lozano, the most intelligent, not to mention gorgeous, granddaughter I have."

I smiled warmly, "Grandma, I'm your only grandchild...now..."

"And you expect me to believe you're the opposite? No!"

"It's just...it's hurtful. Cos, he gives me hope, you know, like there's a chance that he could like me back, like, today...he told me he didn't love Rose. I always thought he did love her...I was so sure he loved her and today he tells me he doesn't, that he never did cos something didn't seem right. It would give me hope that one day he could look at me and see someone he could like more than a friend...but then there's Kaeya...the woman he loves for sure. That hurt cos that princess, yes she's a princess," I explained when she gave me that look, "She's so amazing, she did things that I could never do. Even Rose was good. And me...well...let's be honest I won't ever measure up to either of them so I'll never be good enough to earn his feelings, and it breaks my heart, grandma. It just...shatters it to pieces..."

"Oh no, don't cry," she took me into her arms like she did when I was a kid, giving me a sweet hug, "I don't like seeing you cry. I spent years looking for you and all I wanna see is your big, happy smile."

"Did grandpa ever break your heart?" I looked up at her, "Before getting married?"

"No, I was lucky I suppose," she smiled softly, "I was always happy with him."

"It sounds nice," the absence of my grandfather began arising as well. How could it not? I was in his house, with his wife, on a couch we always sat on for games, television and eating.

"I don't like hearing you talk like that, though. You are amazing!"

"Everyone says that but I think it's more to keep me quiet."

"But you are," she pulled away, "And I know he sees that too."

"How? You just met him," I wiped my tears from my face.

She chuckled, "Just trust me. I know the looks and believe me, your grandfather used to give them to me," she sighed with content, "And the Doctor does seem to have the same looks for you."

"Really?" I asked, the little gleam of hope inside rising at her words.

"You just trust your grandmother, alright?" she kissed the top of my head, "I know what I've seen and I've seen a lot."

"Grandma, do you...do you know the Doctor?"

"Mmm?"

"Grandma," I gave her a sharp look, "When Martha's mother met him, she made a whole fuss about what his name was and what he was doing with us, but you...you haven't asked the usual questions."

"I can't tell you, not yet," she patted my head, "But anyways, why don't you tell me what you've done lately, huh? Tell me about you. What have you been doing?"

"Um...just, travelling,' I shrugged, "We went to New York..." In the past. "...to, um, a replication of a guinguette, uh, to China-"

"To China?" She blinked incredulously before laughing, "What were you doing in China?"

"Um...the Doctor surprised me with the festival of Lanterns..."

"Ooh, 'surprised' you?" she raised an eyebrow, a hint of smirk growing on her face.

I blushed and looked away, thinking of what exactly happened during the festival. Looking back at it, I had no idea where I garnered such courage...

"Minerva?" My grandmother nudged me.

"Huh?" I snapped my head back to her, blinking rapidly as I remembered where I was.

"Anything interesting happen there?"

"Um, we had a riddle contest," I shrugged, deciding to leave out who with, "And I won."

"Oh, good," she chuckled, "Smart one, you are. Where else did you go?"

"Just...to so many places, grandma," I sighed with content, "It's all amazing out there."

"You just love to travel don't you?"

I nodded, "One could say it's my life."

"That's what Aaron says," she shook her head, "Somehow I think you're more level-headed than he is."

"How is Uncle Aaron?"

The Doctor had promised to find my uncle for me, but for some reason it was being a bit more difficult. Apart from all the distractions our travels caused, it seemed like Uncle Aaron was a bit hidden. And it did disappoint me because apart from my grandmother, he was the only one I wanted to see again.

"Last time I heard he was in Brazil," my grandmother paused and got to thinking, "No, wait, that was two weeks ago. I think he's in Switzerland...no..."

I chuckled, "He's everywhere!"

"That he is," she looked at me, "You and him are so alike in personalities it's no wonder Sophia had arguments with you."

I looked down, fiddling with my fingers, "...yeah. It seemed like I always disappointed her."

She set a hand on my arm, offering a smile of comfort, "Not to me you weren't. And never to her."

I sighed, wishing that could be true. Deep down, all I wanted was for my mother to forgive me.

~0~

My grandmother and I sat at the kitchen table with a plate of sliced apples in front of us. I declined her lunch offers so many times that she gave up trying to cook something and settled for a simple snack.

"Minerva, why didn't you want to take my calls? Did I do something wrong?" She asked once we were sitting together at the table. I knew it was the burning question she'd been keeping hold of ever since she opened the door to find me on the other side. The way she looked made me feel so incredibly guilty. Here was this sweet, old woman who had done nothing but care for a child that wasn't even hers and how do I repay her? By making her feel like she did something wrong.

"Grandma, when I left home, things were ugly," I began, swallowing hard, not wanting any memories to resurface through my head but that was just impossible. "I just wanted to forget everything for a while. And Uncle Aaron helped me. But when we separated, I started getting phone calls from my mother, well more since uncle Aaron and I were together. The times I did pick up she did nothing but remind me of what I had done to Olivia and her...so when you called, I thought it'd be the same. Cos all mom wants me to do is come back home so she can keep an eye on me like I'm some child with disastrous tantrums that harm people."

"You know very well my opinions over Olivia's death. It was not your fault, sweetie. And truthfully, that is something I shall never forgive Sophia for. She forgot what being a mother was. But you sweetie, you," she put a hand under my chin, lifting my gaze to hers to see her warm smile, "You are innocent. And understand that I will never fault you for Olivia's death."

"I'm sorry," I said before I started sniffling, "I thought about you all the time though. The Christmas I spent with the Tylers, Jackie Tyler made this delicious Christmas dinner, though with turkey..." We both made a face at the food, which she broke with a laughter, causing me to do the same. "...still don't understand that British custom. But anyways, all I could think of were your snicker-doodles. Those sweet, warm cookies you used to make for me and grandpa every year. This past Christmas, actually," I chuckled at the memory, wiping my face of tears, "The Doctor went out and brought some snicker-doodle mix which we attempted to bake."

"And how'd it go?"

"Well, he's not...very good with baking," I remembered the kitchen being splattered with half the mix, shortening our cookie production in half but still actually filling, though I bet the TARDIS wasn't too happy to have her kitchen covered with cookie mix, "So we had about half the cookie mix as cookies. But even baked by my hands, they don't taste the same. Yours were just delicious...I bet they still are."

"Well if you stick around I'll bake some for you," she pointed, "In fact, stop by your birthday and I may have a batch for you done."

"My birthday?" I blinked, forgetting all about that day seeing as it was not important.

"Your 18th birthday! How can you forget?"

"Grandma, I'm already a legal adult. My birthdays have kind already lost significance to me," I shrugged.

It was true. Most teens looked forwards to the big 1-8, but me? I'm already an adult to the law so there was no specialty behind the date. It was just October 31st, another day.

"There is something you have to understand, Minerva. You are my granddaughter, you can be 50 and I'll still see you as the little girl who wanted to play dollies with her grandfather," I chuckled at all the times I had forced my poor grandfather to play with me and my massive mounts of dolls, my grandmother even joining in with a laugh, "I'll always see the little girl I tucked in nearly every night. And so, your birthdays are always going to be special."

"Oh grandma," I shook my head, I had the best grandmother!

"Don't 'oh grandma me', when you have your kids and grandchildren you'll see what I'm talking about."

"Oh dear Lord, let's not talk about that," I tool a slice of apple into my hand.

The thought of being a "mother" actually scared me. My mother wasn't the best and so for me to actually consider becoming a mother to a baby didn't seem like a very good idea. I didn't really have my mother growing up so I didn't know the do's and dont's of motherhood. I could get it all wrong like my mother did and I would never forgive myself for making my own child suffer. I never wanted to do that to anyone, much less someone that came out of me. The best way to prevent that would be not to be a mother.

"Speaking of mothers..." my grandmother slowly eyed me.

I sighed, placing down my piece of fruit, "Grandma, she doesn't want to see me."

"No, no, I've talked to Sophia, she says she does want you home."

"Yeah, to order me around like I'm still some five year old. Besides, she wants to keep me locked up because according to her I only hurt people and she will not allow it."

"She said that?" she frowned, the disappointment flourishing in her eyes.

My grandmother saw all the faults of my mother, and she sided with me in this whole Olivia fiasco, but the fact still remained...Sophia was her daughter. And despite saying she'd never forgive my mother, she would always try to make peace between my mother and I because this was her daughter we were talking about.

"Let's face it, my mother doesn't love me. And she'll never forgive me," I leaned back on my chair, "Ever."

"Sophia does love you," she tried to come with a good comeback but I stopped it with a scoff, "In her own way..."

"She had fourteen years to show it and she failed. I love her, I do. She's my mother, I can't possibly hate her...but I won't pretend. She's made me angry, sad, guilty, everything...she doesn't want me home and quite frankly I don't want to step foot on that house."

"And your father? You know, truthfully, Nick hasn't been the same since you left the house. He used to be energetic, focused, even jokeful...but he's different now. He barely talks to anyone anymore, barely makes a noise. I think he misses you a lot."

"But he's never called me...why?"

"Maybe he was afraid? I don't know, but maybe you should go visit him now that you're back. I bet that'll put a smile on him..." she got thinking, "...hm, haven't actually seen one in years."

I would like to visit my father, but I was afraid of what he'd say to me. Unlike my mother where she completely lost it and outlashed everything on me, he sort of just...shut down. Honestly, he wasn't the best father to me either but the day we lost Olivia was the day I completely lost him too. He stopped talking to me, nearly everyone, he just let my mom take over and speak for everything.

I wouldn't visit my mother because she would yell at me. I wouldn't visit my father because...I was simply afraid of what his words could be.

~0~

"Growing up here wasn't that bad," I remarked to the Doctor and Martha as we walked down the street, me holding my doll Lucy in my arm.

The pair had returned with a couple arguments, Martha claiming the Martian had nearly gotten them thrown out of three city shops for ridiculous reasons. She claimed it was the last time she went shopping with him. In an attempt to calm both parties down, I offered to show them around the neighborhood I had spent most of my life in and my grandmother promising to have some type of dinner started for us. She was so sweet!

So I brought the pair along with me to give my doll to Stacey's little sister. The neighborhood seemed to change in its different occupants and the size of the children. However, it still remained a quiet, calm, suburb neighborhood. Children were playing outside on the front yards, some parents outside watching them. I did recognize a few of the families from my childhood days and some of the children that were a bit older now. But everything was calm, everything was just...lovely. It made me realize how much I missed it all.

Back in my parent's house, which was right smack in the city, everything in the house was either too quiet or loud. On the quiet days, both my parents would be working, at times Liv would be free to play with me, but usually it was just me and my toys...alone. When it was loud, it was either because my mother was yelling at me for something or just yelling at the employees. With my grandparent's house, it was always wonderful! There were laughter, there was baking, there was children besides me. I always had one of my friends over, usually Stacey to play with. There was never anything wrong...

"The neighborhood was always fantastic," I sighed with content, "Still is apparently. All the apple trees are still in place, " I chuckled suddenly, remembering one dang tree that I had a grudge from a kid, "There's one apple tree in the backyard of my grandparent's that I could never reach as a child, even when I was fourteen. It has the biggest and most delicious apples and I couldn't reach them. But," I started smirking, "Now that I'm seventeen, I'll probably be able to get them with no problem."

"Something that's changed?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow.

'Oh yes! But a good thing," I nodded.

"I'd like to raise my kids in a spot like this," Martha remarked, arms crossed as she studied around, "Barely any cars pass by, which is odd because we're in San Diego!"

"My grandparents like the peace," I shrugged, "They said this way they get to stay near their daughter and granddaughters, yet still live in a comfortable place," I turned on Stacey's front yard, opening the small gate and walking in, the pair behind me, "Gosh, I haven't seen nor talked to Stacey in four years!"

"Now would be the time to make it up," the Doctor suggested.

"Maybe," I shrugged, knocking on the door.

A couple seconds later, a bright ginger opened the door: Stacey's mother, Eliza, "Minerva? Minerva Souza? Is that you?" Her blue eyes blinked in shock.

"Hi Mrs. Donovan," I waved shyly.

"When did you get back?" she stepped out into the porch and hugged me.

"About a couple hours ago."

"Well it's very nice to see you again! Oh I'm sure Stacey would love this!"

"I'd love to see Stacey when she makes a trip back," I admitted.

"I'll be sure to let her know!"

I smiled, "...but for today, actually, I came because I heard a certain little girl had some attachment to one of my dolls," I waved my doll at her.

"Oh, I see," Mrs. Donovan nodded, stepping back inside and calling out for the little girl, "Tamara!"

"Coming, Mom!" a soft little voice called, a five year old brunette running up to the doorway a second later, "Hey, it's Lucy!" she pointed at my doll.

"This is Minerva, dear, you don't remember her," Mrs. Donovan shook her head, "She was only one at the time. Tamara, this is the owner of Lucy, Minerva."

"Hi Tamara," I waved, "You like my doll?"

She nodded, her eyes wandering to Martha and the Doctor behind me, "Mom..." she sheepishly moved behind her mother's legs.

"Oh, sorry," I had forgot about those two for a moment, oops, "Mrs. Donovan, Tamara, these are my friends. Perfectly safe and perfectly kind," I looked at Tamara who was peeking around her mother.

"Hello," she said quietly.

"Hi!" the pair grinned, waving at her.

"Tamara, I heard you liked my doll," I stepped up, bending down to her level, "And I was thinking, since I'm nearly eighteen, I don't really need my dolls anymore."

"You don't?"

"Nah, I want clothes! Well..." I glanced back at Martha and the Doctor, "...I want to travel, actually."

"So...Lucy..." Tamara stepped around her mother, her hands behind her back, her eyes glued to my doll.

"...can be yours if you like?" I wiggled an eyebrow, making her laugh and nod, "Well then, here you go." I held my doll to her.

She took it and grinned, "Thank you!" she threw her arms around me, "I'll take good care of her, you'll see! I'll brush her hair, I'll give her food, I'll put pretty clothes on!"

"I know you'll take good care of her," I chuckled, pulling away and standing up, fixing my skirt, "Well, that's pretty much it. If Stacey happens to call..."

Mrs. Donovan nodded, "I'll tell her, don't worry."

"Thank you," I turned around, walking away with my two friends, "That felt nice."

"She was adorable," Martha remarked.

"She was just one when I left. She could barely walk...talk..." I sighed, "Makes me realize how long I've been away."

"But you'll be back from now on," the Doctor reminded, "Anytime you wanna visit, just tell us."

"I think I just might," I nodded, never wanting to let my grandmother's hugs slip away from me again. Never again.

~0~

"So how's that apple thing going?" the Doctor called while I desperately hopped to reach for an apple off my grandparent's apple tree in the backyard.

I stopped hopping for a second to glance over and see him leaning against the doorway of the kitchen's back door, "Do not laugh," I pointed before continuing to hop, "You know, I'm seventeen, nearly eighteen," hop, "So why can't," hop, "I get," hop, "A damn," hop, "APPLE!" I waved my hand frantically, one of my nails just barely grazing one apple, "It's been four years!" I rounded the stupid tree, "I'm suppose to grow."

"You did," he walked towards me.

"Clearly not enough," I huffed, crossing my arms and looking up at the apples above me, "My grandfather used to get them for me and I thought now that time has passed I should get them on my own..."

You could tell he was biting back a teasing laughter, "So..."

"Shut up," I let my arms drop to my sides, "I'm getting an apple if it's the last thing I do!" I turned around and began my jumping, "Just," hop, "One," hop, "Apple," hop, "Plea-AH!" I nearly yelled when the Doctor's arms went around my waist, lifting me up, "What the hell!?" I looked back at him.

"Just hurry up, will you?" he grunted, "Those brownies and pasta sure are making you he-"

"Finish that sentence and you die right now," I warned with a deadly look.

"They've sure made you lovely," he finished with a big grin.

"Nice save," I reached for an apple, finally getting one, "Hey! I did it!"

"Um, I'm the one that's technically reaching for it since I'm lifting you so really, I did it," I didn't even have to look down to see he was smirking.

So instead...

"Ow!"

I made an apple fall on his head.

"You did that on purpose!" he cried.

"Whatever do you mean, Martian?" I reached for more apples, having about six of them when the Doctor finally set me down. I bent down and picked up the apple that had mysteriously fallen on his head, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he rubbed the top of his head, "Those apples are gigantic!"

"And delicious," I bit into one, turning to side so he could grab one from the pile I held.

"You know, Isadora says dinner will be ready soon. She says she's making your favorite by the way," he munched on his apple, "We should go inside."

I wagged a finger and moved around him, looking around for a place to set the rest of the apples, "I want to watch the sky for a moment."

"The sky? What for? There's barely any visible stars right now," he looked up to the dark sky, very correct with the amount of stars we could see.

It was night and while there were stars, they didn't compare to being in the TARDIS and actually see them in their true form. But I had a different reason for wanting to watch the sky tonight.

"I really want to stay here for a moment," I spun around, hoping to see something, even a bucket, for the apples, "It's really important, Martian."

He sighed and shook his coat off, placing it on the grass, gesturing for me to place the apples on it. I nodded my thanks and dropped to my knees, placing the apples in a neat pile.

"What's so important about these small number of stars, hm?" he took a seat on his coat, using his arms behind him to support him.

I sat beside him, my legs pulled to my chest, my arms draped over my knees, my head looking up with a sad smile, "My grandfather and I used to watch the sky at this hour, on this spot, with a pile of apples beside us...it's been a long time..."

"You okay?" he glanced at me.

"Yeah, I just figured if I visited my grandmother, I could do this for him. It sort of became a tradition, you know. My grandmother and I would bake minty-fresh brownies and snicker-doodles. My grandfather and I would gather apples and watch the stars, little as they were, but we were always here. It's funny how things change," I sighed, resting my chin on my arms, "Once upon a time a grandfather and his granddaughter watched the sky and now...now the granddaughter watches alone."

"And he watches you from above."

"You think so?" I blinked away some tears before I looked at him.

"Yeah," he nodded, "And, if you want, perhaps I could watch the stars with you?"

"I'd like that," I nodded, knowing it would never be the same with my grandfather and I, but perhaps this could be a new tradition, and it still made me feel all warm and happy.

"Every time we come back, we'll watch them whenever you want. How's that sound?"

"It sounds really nice," I mumbled.

He grinned and laid on his back, tilting his head as he studied the sky, "Well, if you focus really hard, you can see the constellation of Aquarius."

"Seriously?"

"Oh yeah, it's right there," he pointed up, like it would actually make a difference.

"Where? I can't see it!"

"C'mon," he moved a little to the side and patted the ground. Reluctantly, I laid down beside him, my heart beginning to pick up on its beats by our closeness, "It's right here," he pointed again.

"Doctor, I can't see anything," I frowned.

"Dear God you need glasses!"

"Says the man who only wears his to look cool."

"Which I do," he pointed, making me roll my eyes, "But it's right there," he picked up my hand and pointed it up to the damn constellation, "Look!" I would look, if I could stop focusing on his hand over mine, "Can you see it?"

"Sure..."

Not really.

"I suppose it's a bit hard to see with all these lights," he frowned, lowering our hands, yet still holding onto it.

"It doesn't compare to the desert," I sighed, remembering that fateful desert, "The one where I saw a man with your box of wonders."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, remember I told you about it?"

"In fairness, I was a bit distracted."

"Yeah, fixing a part of the console that wasn't broken, Honestly, I don't know why she hasn't locked you out already," I shook my head, "But anyways, it was the same box of wonders, at least that's what it looked like with all the smoke coming out of it. Then there was that man, which I'm pretty sure was you from the future. I'm just sad I couldn't get a real look, but Doctor: bow-ties. That's what I saw."

He made a face that showed his horror, his free hand going to his tie, "You liar."

I chuckled, "I swear I'm not. That's probably the only thing I saw with a good eye. I was more focused on your words...you were talking about me."

"I was?"

I nodded, "Mhm. You said you had to get back to Minerva. Doctor, we're still traveling together even after your regeneration."

"Well of course we are, were you planning on leaving me anytime soon?"

"...no."

I hadn't exactly mentioned to him nor Martha what my plans were for when Kaeya returned. And now that I thought about it, if the next Doctor and I traveled together, it meant things worked out...and if things worked out, then the whole Kaeya mess worked out and I wouldn't have to leave. Good...cos I really didn't. I really wished everything would work out in a way that I could perhaps...stick around?

"Good," I looked up at the sky with a big smile, for some reason feeling a big amount of hope, "One regeneration later and we're still together..." I blinked, realizing how that may have sounded and quickly spoke to fix it, "...no, wait! Not us as in together 'us' but as in...well..." I glanced at him, hoping I wasn't making this all too ridiculous, "...why are you looking at me like that?" he was just staring at me with a soft smile.

"What?"

"That look," I pointed, "You've been giving me that look for the last couple of days. It's like you're remembering something, or..." I shrugged, severely confused.

It was true. Since the fiasco with the Family, he and Martha had taken turns to take care of me and in all the times the Doctor was with me, he'd give me that same look. Sometimes I was just saying things and all of a sudden it was like I had said something grand or hypnotizing because I received that soft look with that soft smile that made my heart skip a beat or two and it was driving me mad because I didn't know why he was doing it!

"It's nothing..." he said quietly, his smile barely starting to fade.

"You're so weird," I rolled my eyes and looked up to the sky again, ignoring my blush with great struggle, "You're lucky I can tolerate it."

"Oh ha ha."

"No, I'm serious, what are you gonna do when Kaeya shows up and turns out she doesn't like your weirdness?"

Silence.

I glanced at him, concerned I had hit a topic that was off limits. I noticed there was a change when I spoke about Kaeya lately. Apart from barely showing actual happiness that the princess was alive, he almost seemed...angry. But what could he be angry for? That she survived? If not that, then...what could make him mad at a woman who supposedly was innocent and noble? Last time I remembered he couldn't stop rambling on about her and now he barely wanted to even touch the topic.

"If she doesn't then oh well," was all he had to say.

"Doctor, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Because I'm gonna believe that?" I took my hand out of his and became firm, wanting to know what had changed in the past two months with the Family.

"Alright, you wanna know what happened?"

"Yeah!"

"I came to the conclusion that no matter how much you care for someone, they are not allowed to hurt any of their friends," he turned to the side, facing me completely, "She hurt someone and I'm sort of in the process of debating whether or not to forgive her."

"Who did she hurt?" My voice became a low whisper as I turned as well, leaving us face to face.

"Someone important. No matter my feelings for her, I don't allow that. Period."

"What's gonna happen when she returns?"

"I...don't know," he sighed, "I honestly don't know."

"Well, a word of advice, if you love her, if you really love her, then it should be easy to forgive her because essentially you'll just want to be with her and be happy."

"It should be easy..." he mumbled to himself, pondering for a moment.

"Oi! You two?" Martha called, "Quit your little moment and get inside! Dinner is done and I can smell mint browniiies!" She sung the last word and hurried on inside.

I sat up, heaving a heavy sigh. "Just a thought, Doctor," I stood up, and picked up the apples, "Love is supposed to make you happy, not all depressive and thinky and stuff, otherwise it's just not love." I shook my head, did I just say...thinky? Oh that Martian was really rubbing off me!

"I'll think about it," he assured, "Really..."

"Well in the meantime, thank you for watching the sky with me," I looked up, "I know he's up there, though watching us now. Things change..." I shook my head and headed for the house.

"But sometimes change is good, isn't it?" He followed behind.

"Sometimes," I whispered, thinking of how my feelings had changed for him. Though I couldn't tell if it had been a wonderful thing or a curse because my chances were so slim.

~0~

"Do you like it?" My grandmother continuously asked as I took a visit of my old, well not so old as it had been refurnished after my departure, room.

"Grandma, it's so pretty!" I gawked, spinning around.

"I had it done in case you came back...fit for a proper young woman," she turned to me.

"Oh grandma, thank you," I walked up and hugged her, hugged her really tight because she was just so grand, "Thank you so much for caring this much for a granddaughter who doesn't deserve it."

"Don't say that," she mumbled, resting her head over mine, "You are my granddaughter, I am your grandmother, I will always care for you."

"Thank you," I pulled away.

"Wooow," Martha's voice made me turn around, seeing her and the Doctor stepping inside the bedroom, "Mrs. Lozano, can I be your granddaughter?"

"Oi! She's mine!" I stepped in front of my grandmother, "Get your own!"

Martha raised her hands in surrender, "Noted."

"Minerva, don't be so rude," my grandmother scolded, "If you keep that attitude up, you won't get any brownies to take with you."

"I'm sorry," I quickly said, the brownies had to come with me.

She chuckled and headed for the doorway, "Speaking of, I better go check on them. Will you three be alright?"

"It's okay, Mrs. Lozano, I'll take care of the pair," Martha smirked at us.

Then the Doctor elbowed her.

My grandmother just laughed and went on her way.

"She is my grandmother and you will not make those types of comments around her," I pointed.

"Yeah, yeah, I really like your room," she walked further inside.

"Very...intellectual," the Doctor remarked.

"It used to be a room for a kid," I looked around, sighing, "It's changed alright."

Instead of my small, twin bed, there now stood a queen size bed, a blue cover with white roses sprawled around. There were two nightstands beside the bed, one of them with a lamp and the other a clock. Across from the bed there was a large, white chest of drawers with an oval shaped mirror in on top of it. To its right, at a corner was my closet. To the far left, there was a bathroom which had its door closed. Beside it was the chest drawers and a medium-sized vanity desk. And beside the bed, to its left, was a bookshelf, all its shelves filled with books.

"There used to be toys over there," I pointed at a random corner, "Oh! My dollhouse over there," I pointed to another corner, "And then my dolls over here," point again, "Then my costumes over here! Oh! And my bed always had stuffed animals."

"You were the complete five year old princess, weren't you?" Martha narrowed her eyes playfully.

"Maaaaybe..." I smiled innocently.

"That's why she's sassy," the Doctor mumbled to her, "She got everything she wanted..."

"Don't insult me, Martian," I warned, moving up to him, "I wasn't spoiled by my grandparents."

"Parents?"

"They were never there so the least they did was get me all the toys I wanted."

"Wasn't enough, was it?" Martha asked softly, understanding it wasn't so glorifying to have all the toys I wanted.

"Never," I sighed and walked away, stopping at my bookshelf, "Sometimes, when Olivia wasn't home or she just didn't want to be with me, I would play with this amazing doll house...and I'd be all happy, rambling on with my dolls...until I looked around and saw I was alone. Then I stopped playing, cos I thought, what's the point? What's the point of this amazing doll house if I have to play by myself?"

"But you know that's not gonna happen anymore, right?" the Doctor walked over, gently turning me around, "You've got us now."

"You won't forget about me even when Kaeya comes back?" I whispered, terrorized by the appearance of the princess that could literally happen at any moment. Even if I did decide to leave, I didn't want him to completely forget about me. I still would expect some kind of visit from him, even a call?

He looked at me for a good minute, making me nervous that he had to actually think about it, "Never," he whispered, "Absolutely never."

I smiled with relief and went to hug him, resting my head on his chest and feeling his arms wrap around me. A couple seconds later, Martha joined us and together we hugged.

Things could change alright, but I would always remember when it was just the Martian, my doctor best friend, and me.

#ocappreciation #doctor who #10th doctor #doctor who fics #10th doctor fics #dw imagine #doctor who imagines #10th doctor imagines #oc: Minerva Souza #fic: next stop eveywhere

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totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes · 4 years

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Sick Day (fanfic)

While the votes were very close the sick day prompt won out last night, and I was kinda grateful because I had already started writing some of it before I got most of the votes. I’m sure you guys were looking for something more fluffy since my last fic was nothing but sadness and while I delivered some what this is still gonna be kinda sad, but I promise it has a sweet ending! I’m not sure if I’ll post this one to Ao3 but we’ll see :)

TW: sickness, mentions of death, mentions of Nosocomephobia

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The one thing that makes getting the flu even worse is getting the flu during spring break. No missing school because school is already out, so the days off just get wasted laying in bed with one stuffed up nostril, a pile of tissues sprawled on the bed, and the blankets half n and half off because it’s somehow both too hot and too cold. Lydia didn’t get sick often, but when she did it was never fun. Two days before she had felt a fever coming on but decided not to say anything because she still wanted to hang out with Wendy that night, but the next morning she woke up shivering and turns out she had a temperature of one hundred and two. Not the end of the world, but to say Lydia was annoyed was an understatement. Growing up her dad was always paranoid about germs, something Lydia thankfully didn’t inherit, but she still didn’t want to deal with him, lovingly, quarantining her. She took the thermometer, wrapped herself in a blanket, and went to seek the guidance of the ghosts. Ghosts can’t get sick, so they should have nothing to worry about.

Barbara instantly pulled Lydia over to the couch while Adam ran around frantically trying to think of what sick people need, even though all Lydia asked for was a drink of water and maybe some Tylenol to bring her fever down. She ended up with a bowl of chicken noodle soup, slippers, about four different kinds of flu medication, and a cold compress. The first night she just slept on their couch, begrudgingly comfortable as a result of all the stuff Adam brought up to the attic. She would wake up every hour or so feeling crappy but she did get some sleep that night, hoping that maybe she was just tired and not actually sick, she read that online somewhere before. Unfortunately, when she woke up the next morning she definitely was still sick and it was not getting better as quickly as she would have liked. Her throat was all scratchy, she had a terrible headache, and she felt her body burning up under the blankets. She kicked the blankets off her and winced when her warm feet touched the freezing cold ground, she forgot that the Maitland’s couldn’t really feel the temperature so it was always a guess if it would be a sauna or the arctic up there. She coughed into her arm and shuffled downstairs to grab something small to eat, even though she was sick to her stomach she knew that she couldn’t take any medicine on an empty stomach. She managed to eat about half a piece of toast before feeling like she was going to puke, and she quickly swallowed down two pills. She sat down at the table with her head in her hands.

“Not feeling good?” Delia asked form behind her, Lydia simply groaned in response her throat too sore to even speak at this point, “Yeah I heard the flu was going around, I thought you got your flu shot though?”

She rolled her eyes not wanting to get into the debate of how the flu shot isn’t 100% effective and if she hadn’t gotten it she would be much sicker than she was right now. Instead, she just let Delia ramble on about what essential oils and crystals she thought might help ease the symptoms. It was almost soothing monotony as Lydia downed her second glass of orange juice hoping that maybe the extra vitamin C would destroy whatever virus was wreaking havoc on her immune system. Instead, it just made her stomach feel worse. By the time her father came down for the morning Lydia was almost passed out leaning on the table despite the fact she had just woken up maybe fifteen minutes before. Charles walked up to his unusually pale daughter and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.

“Honey, you’re burning up.”

“I‘ve got a fever.” she mumbled, “Barbara thinks it’s the flu.”

Charles stopped dead in his tracks, he didn’t mean too but he couldn’t help himself from thinking about the past, and what signs he had missed, and now he was starting to overreact. This was a flu, people get the flu all the time, not every fever is a death sentence. Not every stomach bug is a sign of...he wasn’t going to let himself get sucked into it again. He didn’t want to frighten Lydia. Besides she knew as much about the whole ordeal as he did, if she thought something more besides a flu was wrong she would have told him. He forced himself to put on a sympathetic smile, “I’m sorry sweetheart, I hope you feel better soon. Will you be okay if I go to work?”

Lydia nodded knowing fully well that even when Delia and her dad went to work she still had the Maitland’s in the attic if she needed them. Her plan for the day was to either pass out on the couch or in her bed under all the blankets and preferably with her cats to keep her company so she didn’t feel obligated to make conversation. The first day or two of the flu was usually the worst, so she just wanted to sleep through it. She could see the look in her dad’s eyes though, he was worried about her. It would have come off to most people as fatherly or even endearing but to Lydia, it was nothing but a source of anxiety when her father worried about her like that. She sighed a breath of relief when he did eventually go off to work. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, scooped up Cation in her arms and figured if Kraken was roaming somewhere around the house and would come join them whenever she saw fit. She had just about settled on her bed when her phone went off and she saw a text from her father asking if she was alright. She replied with a quick yes, hoping it would satisfy him for now, but she was rewarded with a series of four more texts asking if she needed anything, if she wanted to go to the doctor, if he should come home, and once more asking if she was feeling okay. Not wanting to fuel his compulsive questions but not wanting to make him even more worried she tried to reassure him that if something bad was happening he would be the first to know, she did also gave to his one question and requested some popsicles for her sore throat.

She put her phone on silent, started watching a movie on her laptop and drifted off to sleep after about forty-five minutes. She wasn’t sure if it was the fever or the flu medication she had taken but she had the strangest dream, and that was a statement coming from the girl who lived with ghosts, and had been to the underworld before. It was nothing out of the ordinary at first, she was at school but instead of all the uniforms being white button-up shirts and black plaid skirts/ black pants they were an ugly green and yellow color. The details were fuzzy but the dream ended with her math teacher marrying the Sandworm and somehow Lydia was the maid of honor. It was very confusing but also entertaining so Lydia was slightly annoyed when she was woken up by a particular demon whom she had forgotten she had promised to hang out with the afternoon.

“Sorry BJ, I can’t really hang out today unless your idea of hanging out was sitting on the couch and watching TV while I pretty much sleep the whole day.”

“What the hell is wrong with you kid? You look like you saw a ghost.” BJ laughed very hard at his own joke and even though she was super out of it she still had it within her to fake gag at his lame attempt at comedy.

“I’m sick.”

“Well, that’s pretty pathetic. I were you and I was still a living human I simply wouldn’t be incapacitated because of some bitch-ass virus Like RIP to you but I’m different.”

“You’re also already dead and didn’t you live like during the black plague?”

“And that sure as hell didn’t kill me. It would take a lot more so some dumb virus to take me now.”

“I think the plague was bacterial,” Lydia replied, straining her voice to argue with him. Under no circumstances would she not argue with Beetlejuice.

“Same difference,” he waved his hand dismissively, “Anyway since you aren’t going to be any fun today while you milk this fake illness I’m going to go bug the Maitland’s. And while you’re at it...can you tell that bastard cat of yours to stop staring at me? It gives me the creeps.”

“Don’t be a jerk, Kraken loves you!” Lydia snapped defensively, pulling her cat up and presenting it to BJ, “She’s just a baby…”

“Look, there’s only room for one bastard in this house and that role is already taken.” BJ glared once more at the cat who seemed utterly indifferent to the presence of the demon. He walked through Lydia’s door but just to be a prick when he was outside of it he opened it partway and flipped her off. Grumbling Lydia got up to shut the door, hoping she’d be able to fall asleep again. She couldn’t, her cough was getting worse and it was making it impossible to lay down comfortably without feeling like she couldn’t breathe. She had to compromise and sit up in bed with her pillows stacked up behind her. She watched the clock with an almost obsession counting down the minutes before she could take another dose of the cough medicine and get some kind of relief from the symptoms. By the evening it felt as though she had been hit by a bus. Her muscles ached, she could hardly keep her eyes open, and her whole body felt like it was on fire. Barbara had tried to make her something for lunch but she could only manage a few bites before pushing the rest of it away, even the smell making her feel like she was going to throw up.

“Maybe you should see a doctor when your dad gets home.” Adam suggested, “Not much they can do for the flu but maybe the can give you something stronger for your cough just so you can get some sleep tonight.”

“I’ll be fine!” Lydia snapped a little too harshly, “I’ll be fine, it’s just the flu. I don’t need to go to the doctor.” Adam backed off and left Lydia alone in her room. She couldn’t stop shivering even though she was boiling under the blankets. Her teeth clattered against each other and she felt a dizzying pressure building up in her forehead and sinuses. The hours in the day seemed to drag on with cruelty, she tried to distract herself with videos on her phone but she couldn’t keep focused on them long enough. She wanted to sleep but every time she was about to drift she would need to cough or her stomach would get upset, or her head would start pounding. She would alternate between her bedroom and the attic but nothing was comfortable. By the time her father and Delia got home from work Lydia was huddled out on the couch, her knees tucked into her chest and she was muttering feverishly in her half-awake half-asleep daze.

Charles rushed over to Lydia and his heart sank down to his stomach as images of Emily flashed through his head. He felt Lydia’s forehead and quickly grabbed the thermometer to check her temperature. He was devastated to read out that Lydia had a temperature of one hundred and three. Instantly fearing the worst he shook Lydia awake and told her that they were going to the hospital.

“Wait, what?” Lydia mumbled, still not completely aware

“The hospital, you’re burning up. You look like you’re about to faint, come on get your coat and shoes on. Can you walk?”

“Can I wh-? What are you talking about, of course, I can walk. Dad for god sake I have the flu. I feel like crap but I am not dying!” Charles tensed at those words and Lydia glared at him, shakily standing up with the blanket still draped around her shoulders

“Lydia, you’re not making sense. Please, just for me. Can we just please go to the hospital, I’m worried about you.”

“Dad you’re being ridiculous right now! You’re always worried about me!”

“I’m your father! It is my job to worry about you, now can you please get in the car so I can take you.” He was begging her at that point, he didn’t know what overcame him and Lydia wasn’t sure why she was so opposed. She felt awful, a fever at high was not a good thing, she logically knew that there was nothing wrong with going to a doctor but some part of her was shouting at her not to. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she didn’t understand why, she wasn’t upset she was annoyed. She was annoyed at him for being so overbearing. Charles noticed this and went over to her, she slumped into his arms just taking in the much-needed hug. Lydia just kept repeating that she didn’t want to go to the hospital, and he nodded, “Okay, okay no hospital alright? But can we please go to the doctor or the urgent care? Honey, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

After a brief and silent car ride Lydia was sitting in the urgent care waiting room with a mask over her mouth and nose to keep her from contaminating anybody else in the waiting room. It was already dark outside and Lydia leaned up against her father’s shoulder while they waited to be called back. She stared blankly at the wall trying to ignore the fact he was staring at her, even though we was pretending to scroll through his phone. He had one arm wrapped around her, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly and while she wanted to be stubborn and pull away she really did find comfort in him holding her. He was never unaffectionate while she was growing up, he would give piggyback rides and carry her, and hug her but he was slightly more distant since her mother had died, any kind of affection she got from him was cherished, even if she wanted to be a sullen teenager.

“Deetz?” the male nurse called out

Charles helped steady Lydia while they walked into the examination room. They took her temperature and Charles explained a list of symptoms after Lydia tried too but couldn’t speak as clearly as she was trying to. The nurse scribbled some notes down, swabbed the inside of Lydia’s mouth and said that the doctor would be in shortly

“Man they take you from one waiting room to another huh?” Charles tried to joke in an attempt to ease the tension. Lydia was having none of it and she kept her eyes down on her phone while she was ranting to Barbara about how annoyed at her father she was. Though Barbara quickly proved to not be the ideal ranting partner in this situation so she turned to BJ who she knew would always agree with her no matter was as long as he got to complain too. After another twenty minutes of waiting the doctor came in holding a sheet of paper in her hands, “Bad news, you definitely have the flu young lady. Luckily it looks like it’s a mild strain even though I know it sure doesn’t feel like it huh? I’m going to prescribe you something to help you with that cough and something to work on killing the infection. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Lydia was about to shake her head no when Charles interjected, “Are you sure it’s just the flu?”

“Pretty positive, flu swabs are fairly accurate why?”

“But you’re sure it’s not something else, like something I don't know..” “He wants to know if you think I have cancer.” Charles jolted his head and looked at Lydia with such disbelief that she had to scoff, “Don’t act so shocked dad, that’s what you want to know. You want to know if I have what mom had.” She turned her attention back to the doctor and in her strained and scratchy voice, she said, “My mom she had non-Hodgkins lymphoma and apparently she started out with just flu symptoms too, she died. He’s worried that I’m going to die too, so can you just tell me if I do or don’t have cancer?”

Stunned the doctor fumbled a response, “Mr. Deetz Lydia has the flu. I am truly sorry for your loss and while I cannot say for absolute certain without doing blood tests I am fairly confident that Lydia simply has the flu. She doesn’t have any of the other tell-tale symptoms of the condition that your wife had. Now, do you have any other questions?”

“Yeah can I go home now?” Lydia demanded

The whole ride back home Lydia sat with her arms crossed and her head leaned against the car window. Her father wouldn’t talk to her, she wouldn’t talk to him. It was obvious to everybody else that something happened between them the minute they walked in the door. Lydia instantly went towards the stairs but Charles went after her, insisting that they need to talk. She waved her hand and slammed her door shut, complaining that she didn’t feel good and wanted to go to bed. She didn’t lock the door though, she knew it made everybody in the house angry if she locked the door when they were fighting. They respected not to come in if she didn’t invite them, but the rule was not door locking. She curled back up on her bed, cuddling with a chatty Kraken who was already lounging on her mattress. Within thirty seconds there was a knock at her door, and she threw her pillow at it in response.

“Lydia we need to talk about this, we need to talk about what you said at the doctor today.”

“What I said?” She laughed shaking her head, “Just come in dad, I know you’re not going to go away until you do and I feel like shit and want to go to bed so let’s get this over with.”

Charles cautiously opened the door and sat down on the edge of Lydia’s bed, mindful of the collection of tissues and bottles accumulating throughout the room. Having felt better since taking the medication the doctor prescribed she sat up in her bed and looked at her dad, waiting for him to scold her for behaving like a child in the doctors. She wouldn’t deny it, she acted very immaturely but she was so sick of how he was treating her that day.

“Can we talk about it?” she questioned, “That’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

“I wanted to say I was sorry, Lydia. I know that I probably made things a lot worse for you. I know you aren’t feeling good and I didn’t mean to scare you with the whole...anyway it doesn’t matter the details. I shouldn’t have overreacted when you told me it was the flu, I trust you to know your body. I just don’t know what came over me, seeing you looking so sick and pale, it had me terrified. I just couldn’t imagine losing you too.”

“Dad I’m okay.” she tried to explain, “I’m fine.”

“I just, I don’t understand why you got so worried when I suggested you go to the hospital, you had a really high fever. Lydia, I understand that our relationship is going to require a certain give and take but when it comes to safety I think we need to make some more compromises. I was probably jumping to conclusions when I thought the worst but even the nurse was concerned when he saw how high it was, we should have gone to the hospital.”

“I didn’t want to go to the hospital.”

“But I don’t understand why.”

“Yes, you do! And it kills me that you can’t understand it, you think it scares you when you see me getting sick and having the same symptoms mom did, imagine how I feel! I am terrified any time I get a cold or I have a stomach bug or even a bad headache because I worry that the same thing that happened to mom is gonna happen to me. I know there’s a genetic link, it’s not a high one but it scares me too dad but the thing is you’re supposed to be the calm one. You’re supposed to be the one convincing me it’s just the flu and that I’ll be okay in a few days, I shouldn’t have to convince not only me but my father too. Any time I’m sick I dread telling you because I know exaclty how you’re going to react. That’s not good dad! It’s making me afraid to come to you and god forbid I do get sick like that how long am I going to unintentionally ignore the symptoms because I’m afraid to tell you! I don’t want to go to the hospital dad because I’m afraid I might not come back, and I know that’s crazy. I know I’m being dramatic but that’s what happened with mom. She was fine one day and the next day you’re driving me to the hospital and she tells me she has maybe a few weeks to live? Can’t you get why I might not like hospitals so much anymore?” Lydia was trembling slightly now weak from the flu and the medication she was on, “There’s a line in the sand dad, there has to be because the worst part about being sick right now is that you looking at me like you might blink and I’ll be dead. Do you no understand how stressful that is?”

He bowed his head, “Lydia I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you but it’s been so hard since Emily died to not go right to the worst-case scenario.”

“And I do the exact same thing, but the difference dad is that I’m your kid. I need you to have a level head about this, and I don’t mean to just attack you because you all kind of do it. You all smother me with attention when I’m sick or hurt, I love you all but it’s suffocating sometimes when all I need is to stay in bed and take some Tylenol.”

“I’m sorry, I’m going to try harder to be better about it, alright? I promise, but I need you to promise me that you won’t hide things from me. Your mom tried to mask the signs, tell me she was okay, and not that it would have saved her but you can’t lie to me alright? We’re in this together, okay?”

Lydia nodded and hugged her father, rubbing at her eyes both in fatigue and in an attempt to clear away the tears welling up in her eyes. For the rest of the night, she and Charles sat in the living room wrapped in blankets, watching reruns of old movies on the television. Lydia burrowed her head the crook of his arms and eventually dozed off into the first peaceful sleep she managed to get that day. Though he was incredibly uncomfortable in that position he just relished in the closeness he felt in that moment. He couldn’t help but to remember when Lydia was small and he and Emily would spend hours trying to soothe the fussy baby, both of them completely exhausted when she would finally fall asleep but neither of them able to look away from the tiny human they had created. She was so grown up now, so funny and intelligent, wise beyond her years, but despite all of that when he looked down at his sleeping daughter’s face he could still see that little baby he cradled all those years ago.

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