#fam: go ahead and cry little girl
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So, the Aurelia fic is finally done and you can find the full fic here!
After that darker story, I decided to go the completely opposite direction and write some tooth-rotting fluff for my baby Lily! So, here's her first meeting with Sanji!
Anything Fun
“No cause for alarm, folks,” the waiter said in a sharp tone, hand in one pocket as he crossed the dining room. “Please, enjoy your meals.”
He finally stopped at the table of Luffy and his friends, placing the plate of buns he had brought in front of them.
“Hi! Welcome to our shitty restaurant, where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food,” he hissed, meanwhile looking bored out of his mind. “My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?”
“One of everything, please,” Luffy replied, already stuffing his face with the buns.
“Any drinks? One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?”
“Giving us the hard sell, huh?” Nami sneered.
But when Sanji looked at her, his demeanor suddenly changed. A smug smile was plastered on his face and the aggressive tone from his voice was gone.
“Apologies, madam, I didn’t see you there. Would you care for an apéritif to start?”
Nami just blinked in confusion and her companions were none the wiser. Was he… flirting with her?
“We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you’d like a glass of Umeshu? You know, somethin’ sweet for someone sweet,” he suggested with a wink.
Oh, he was flirting with her, wasn’t he?
“Something wrong with your eye?” Nami asked, lacking a better comeback.
“Just blinded by your beauty.”
Luckily, Zoro was unwilling to put up with any more of this tomfoolery, and he cleared his throat to get the waiter’s attention.
“Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?”
“Two beers,” Usopp joined in. “I usually have three but—”
“And a milk!” Luffy interrupted.
“Three beers and a milk and, uh, for madam?”
“Water – and listen, we’re still waiting for one more person, so if you could—”
“Really?” A familiar voice called, making Sanji jump.
Lily had just appeared next to him, and she was probably too small for him to spot as even her tall ears didn’t even reach up to his shoulders.
“I thought it was just us,” she grinned, her tail wagging happily from side to side.
“It is just us,” Zoro grumbled, just before being completely caught off guard by Lily hopping into his lap to climb across the bench behind the table, nearly hitting him in the face with her tail multiple times. In fact, he almost had to sneeze from how close the fuzzy hairs were to his nose.
“What took you so long?” Usopp asked as she settled down between him and Nami. “I was already worried you’d fallen into the sea.”
“Oh, I almost did. – One of the ships here has a fox for a figurehead, can you believe it?”
“Did you talk to it?” Luffy blurted out.
Lily just scoffed. “I’m not actually an animal. Besides, figureheads can’t talk. Only Klabautermänner can.”
“Lily,” Nami said softly, tapping her on the shoulder, “do you wanna order something to drink?”
“Yeah!” Lily agreed, turning around to look at Sanji, who, much to the pirates’ surprise, had changed his demeanor yet again.
“And what would the young lady like?” He asked with a gentle smile. “Maybe some hot chocolate?”
Immediately, Lily gasped in excitement. But Usopp cut her off.
“No– no, she can’t have that.”
“Why not?!” Lily protested.
“Because it’ll kill you.”
“Oh bother,” she grumbled, pulling her legs up to her chest and pouting.
“So, you have special dietary needs?” Sanji asked, still smiling and still talking to Lily instead of Usopp. “What is it that you can’t have?“
“Anything fun.”
“Basically anything dogs can’t have,” Zoro mumbled.
“More or less,” Usopp agreed. “Grapes and raisins, chocolate, macadamias, walnuts, tomatoes, dairy, onions, garlic… Well, and caffeine and alcohol, but she’s too young to have those anyway.”
“Anything fun, huh?” Sanji chuckled. “Well, then I have something for you,” he said, lowering himself to Lily’s eye level. “What if I could make you hot chocolate that’s completely safe for you to drink?”
As soon as he had finished talking, Lily’s eyes lit up with sparkles – and it almost seemed like the air around her was sparkling too. “Really?!”
“Yeah! Just give me a few minutes. It’ll be good, I promise. Does that sound nice?”
Lily nodded eagerly. So, Sanji’s smile grew even wider and he headed off to the kitchen.
“What a creep,” Nami mumbled.
“He’s not creepy!” Lily disagreed. “He’s nice! Look at him going through all that trouble for me.”
“Lily, I am so glad that you’re too young to understand.” Nami gently ran her fingers through Lily’s hair, then over her ears, causing her to quietly purr. “You’re right, he’s nice to you.”
“And he’s a great fighter!” Luffy added. “What a great guy!”
“That’s your criteria?” Usopp questioned. “He gives you food and he can fight?”
“Yeah!”
“And that’s new how exactly?” Zoro commented.
A few minutes later, Sanji returned with a tray of drinks, serving Nami first, then the boys…
“And finally, for our little princess.”
He placed a mug in front of her with a bright smile on his face. The mug itself was ornate and what was inside it looked exactly like hot chocolate. It smelled almost the same, too! Sitting atop the foam was a little, foamy figure of a fennec fox.
“Soy milk, a dash of vanilla, and vegan marshmallows. And the chocolate is made using a special fruit that grows on an island in the Grand Line. It tastes just the same but without the toxins that make chocolate poisonous to some people. They call it the chocolate fruit because of that.”
“Wow!” Lily gasped. “The Grand Line really is a great place, huh?”
“Yeah!” Luffy agreed. “And we’re going there!”
“Maybe you can find the fruit yourself then, huh?” Sanji grinned. “Try it, it’s good. But be careful not to burn yourself, alright?”
Lily nodded and quickly took a sip of the hot chocolate. Immediately, her eyes lit up again.
“It’s perfect!”
“I’m glad.”
“Thank you, sir!”
Sanji laughed. “No honorifics, please, just Sanji is fine. – Enjoy your drinks!”
With that, he was off to the kitchen again, but he threw Lily a kind glance over his shoulder on his way back multiple times.
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Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @supermarine-silvally - let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!
#one piece#one piece live action#one piece oc#opla oc#oc: felicity#fam: go ahead and cry little girl#fanfiction#fyeahonepieceocs
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House of the Dragon Ep. 7: Driftmark, a Summary (Incorrect Quotes Edition)
SPOILERS AHEAD!
*Laena Velaryon's funeral*
Vaemond: *gives speech about Laena in High Valyrian*
Vaemond: *looks directly at Rhae-Rhae* ...Lady Laena leaves behind two TRUE-BORN daughters.
Rhaenyra: *thoughts* Wtf is his problem?
Daemon: *laughs*
. . . . .
Rhaenyra: *approaches Jacaerys* Jace, baby, have you seen your daddy?
Rhaenyra: Btw, your cousins’ mom had just died. Maybe you should go comfort them.
Jacaerys: I lost someone too.
Rhaenyra: Jace.
Jacaerys: Wtf are we even doing here, mommy? We should be in Harrenhal for Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin.
Rhaenyra: *lowkey panics and looks around fearing someone heard them*
Rhaenyra: It’s not appropriate. The Velaryons are our fam and the Strongs aren’t. Get it?
Jacaerys: *annoyed* Fine.
. . . . .
Helaena: *tending to her bugs*
Aegon: *disgusted* Eww, wtf is she doing now? We have nothing in common.
Aemond: Uh, she’s our sister.
Aegon: You marry her, then.
Aemond: I’d do it, but I’m not promised to her.
Aegon: It’s a terrible idea, honestly.
Aemond: It would strengthen the fam and keep our blood pure.
Aegon: She’s fucking weird af.
Aemond: She’s your future queen. Show her some respect, bro.
Aegon: *grabs another drink* Well, actually, we do have one thing in common. We both dragons and you don’t.
Aemond: …
Aemond: Fuck you, Aegon.
. . . . .
Larys: *creepy stalking Alicent*
Criston: Queen Ali, Larys has been staring at you weirdly, btw.
Alicent: *Sees Larys* Wtf
Alicent: Calm down, Crispy. He’s just happy he’s the new lord of Harrenhal.
Criston: …
. . . . .
Jacaerys: ...
Baella and Rhaena: ...
Jacaerys: Idk what to say, but I’m here.
Baela: *grabs Jacaerys’ hand* Thanks, cousin.
. . . . .
Corlys: Lukey, my title and High Tide will be yours someday. Your big bro will be king and he’ll be in King’s Landing with all the boring meetings and shit. But the lord of the tides rules the seas.
Lucerys: *pulls a Jon Snow expression* I don’t want it.
Jon Snow in the future:
Corlys: Wtf it’s your birthright.
Lucerys: If I’ll be lord of driftmark, that means everyone’s dead.
Corlys: …
. . . . .
Rhaenys: *approaches Baela and Rhaena*
Jacaerys: K bye.
Rhaenys: *hugs Baela and Rhaena* It’s ok, my grandbabies.
Rhaena: *sad face* I don’t want mommy gone.
. . . . .
Jacaerys and Aemond:
. . . . .
Laenor: *staring at the sea, crying*
Corlys: Wtf
Corlys: Hey, Qarl, get your bff out of the water.
Vaemond: Big bro, wtf. Calm down.
. . . . .
Viserys: Hey, lil’ bro. Your baby girls look like their Mom. Trust me, it helps with the loss of pain, but then again the gods can be cruel.
Daemon: Bitch, please. They’re more cruel to you. I mean, you look terrible af.
Viserys: Btw, maybe you should come back to King’s Landing with us. You know, come back home.
Daemon: My baby girls and I live in Pentos now.
Viserys: Bro, I know we fight a lot, but let’s forget about that. I’ll give you a position when you come with us. That’s something you need, right? So, what do you say?
Daemon: No, thanks. I don’t need anything.
Viserys: Come on, bro.
Daemon: *walks out*
Otto, to Daemon: Sorry for your loss.
Daemon: Stfu, I know you don’t mean it.
. . . . .
Viserys, to Alicent: I’m going to bed, Aemma.
Alicent: Wtf my name is Alicent!
Everyone at the funeral:
Everyone in the fucking universe:
. . . . .
Aegon: *drunk af*
Otto, to Aemond: Where tf is your bro?
Aemond: *points at Aegon on the floor*
Otto: *finds him and kicks his ass*
Aegon: Aemond, wtf?! No, wait. You’re not Aemond.
Aegon: *panics* Oh, shit! Hi grandpa.
Otto: Go to bed, you little shit!
. . . . .
Rhaenys: Laena wants to come home, but Daemon said no.
Corlys: I’m sure he’s doing what’s best for the fam.
Rhaenys: That son of a bitch is selfish. She would’ve been here and had our Maesters treat her.
Corlys: They have doctors there too, Babe. If you’re blaming someone, it’s the gods.
Rhaenys: Maybe they’re punishing us because of our big heads.
Corlys: Hey, you would’ve been the queen. But those mofos gave it to your cousin. Is it bad that as your hubby for you to get it back?
Rhaenys: Omfg, not this again. I know it’s really for your ambition and not for me. I accepted the fact that I will never have it, it’s you who wouldn’t let it go. Even now, your daughter just died, your son is a mess, and that’s all you care about? Wtf.
Corlys: Babe, we only live once. Of course, we got to live our lives to the fullest.
Rhaenys: I want Laena’s baby girl, Baela to inherit Driftmark. To someone who actually has Velaryon blood. You can say it now while everyone’s still here.
Corlys: What about Laenor?
Rhaenys: He’s gonna be king consort. I wouldn’t worry about him.
Corlys: And Laenor’s baby boys? What about them, huh?
Rhaenys: Come on, you aren’t blind. Kids looked nothing like him. You know those aren’t his sons. But we’re sure that Laena’s daughters came out of her.
Corlys: History doesn’t remember blood, they remember names.
Rhaenys: Wtf Corlys.
. . . . .
Rhaenyra: *venting out* Laenor is so bored because there are no battles. Our marriage is a joke, but at least, I’m involve.
Daemon: You’re lucky.
Rhaenyra: I guess I have been ever since my daddy chose me. But we tried, but nothing happened. Plus, there’s no pleasure, at all. I did find it though, and it’s soo good. *wink-wink*
Daemon: Oh, yeah, that’s why Harwin was always around you.
Rhaenyra: Yeah, I shouldn’t have let him leave though. They say that castle more cursed then ever.
Daemon: You know that’s an urban legend, right? If I had to guess, that was your evil stepmom’s doing.
Rhaenyra: I don’t think Ali would actually kill anyone, but her dad? Maybe. That son of a bitch had me spied.
Daemon: Everyone makes mistakes, Rhae-Rhae.
Rhaenyra: Oh, that’s so rich coming from you, uncle.
Daemon: I’m sorry, and what exactly did I do?
Rhaenyra: Bitch, you left me!
Daemon: I had too, you were still a baby.
Rhaenyra: *seduction mode on* Sure, but I’m not a baby anymore. 😉
Daemon: Rhae-Rhae, wtf are you doing?
Rhaenyra and Daemon: *makes out*
Rhaenyra and Daemon: *doing it*
. . . . .
Aemond: I want a dragon and I’m getting a dragon.
Aemond: *sees Vhagar*
Aemond: Ooh, I want her.
Aemond: *claims Vhagar*
Aemond, flying on Vhagar:
Aemond: OMFG THAT WAS AWESOME!
. . . . .
Baela and Rhaena: *sees Vhagar being stolen* Wtf
Baela: *wakes us Jacaerys* Jace, wake up!
Jacaerys: What? What?
Baela: Someone stole our mommy’s dragon.
Jacaerys: *gets up* WHAT?! Son of a bitch!
. . . . .
Rhaena: *sees Aemond* Omfg it’s him.
Aemond: Yeah, it’s me. Got a problem?
Rhaena: Wtf Vhagar is my mommy’s dragon!
Aemond: Well, she’s dead. Doesn’t matter.
Rhaena: I was gonna claim her!
Aemond: First come, first claim then, bitch. Maybe your cousins can find you a pig then.
Rhaena: Wtf that’s it!
Aemond: *shoves Rhaena aside* Weak bitch.
Baela: *punches Aemond* Don’t touch my sister, you son of bitch!
Aemond: *punches Baela* Fight me and I’ll feed you to my fucking dragon!
Jacaerys: *attacks Aemond* Wtf, Aemond! You should never hit a girl!
*Kiddie fight ensues*
Aemond: *gains the upper hand and strangles Lucerys* Weak-ass bitches!
Aemond: *grabs a rock and aims at Lucerys* You’ll die screaming just like your daddy!
Lucerys: Idiot! My daddy’s still alive.
Jacaerys: If you hurt my lil’ bro, I swear to the gods, Aemond, I will end you.
Aemond: Oh, he doesn’t know? Your poor bastards.
Jacaerys: *grabs a knife* That’s it!
Rhaena: Jace, wtf are you doing?!
Jacaerys: *attacks with knife*
Aemond: *disarms Jacaerys and hits him with the rock on his head*
Jacaerys: *drops knife and hits the ground*
Lucerys: *grabs his bro’s knife*
Aemond: Anyone else?
Jacaerys:
Lucerys: *slashes through Aemond’s eye* Don’t touch my big bro!
Aemond: *covers his bleeding eye* OW! WTF?! OMFG MY EYE! I’M BLIND!
Lord Commander: WTF IS GOING ON?!
. . . . .
Viserys: How in the seven fucking hells did you let this happen?!
Lord Commander: Idk, my king. The kids were supposed to be in bed.
Viserys: Who was on duty?
Criston: The prince was attacked by his cousins.
Viserys: Rhae-Rhae’s babies are Aemond’s nephews, idiot! Not his cousins! Nevertheless, you were supposed to protect my family! WTF!
Lord Commander: I’m so sorry, my king. It won’t happen again.
Criston: Yeah, we never had to defend princes from princes, btw.
Viserys: YOU STFU AND THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER!
Criston: …
Alicent, to the Maester: *lowkey panicking* My baby’s gonna be ok, right? It will heal, right? Right?
Maester: His wound will heal, but the eye’s gone.
Alicent: *slaps Aegon* Where tf were you?!
Aegon: *still drunk af* Ow, Mom. Wtf did I do?
Alicent: Exactly! You didn’t do shit! That’s nothing compared to what your lil’ bro suffered!
Corlys: Wtf is going on? Why is everyone out of bed?
Rhaenys: *goes to comfort Baela and Rhaena* Wtf happened?
Rhaenyra: *runs straight to her baby boys*
Rhaenyra: *sees Lucerys’ broken nose* Who tf did this?
Aemond: They attacked me!
Jacaerys: Wtf? He attacked Baela!
Rhaena: He broke Lukey’s nose!
Baela: He stole my mommy’s dragon!
Lucerys: He was gonna kill my big bro!
*The kids yelling at each other*
Daemon: *watching the live soap opera in the corner* Damn, I need popcorn.
Viserys: EVERYONE STFU!
Alicent: My baby boy is the victim!
Viserys: I said STFU!
Jacaerys, to Rhaenyra: He called us bastards.
*awkward silence*
Viserys: Aemond, wtf happened?
Alicent: Your baby boy is hurt and Rhae-Rhae’s son is the one who did it.
Rhaenyra: *holds her babies defensively* It was an accident.
Alicent: Accident? Wtf! Lucerys brought a knife, he was going to kill my baby boy.
Rhaenyra: Excuse me? My babies were the ones attacked, they were only defending themselves. They were insulted.
Viserys: What insults?
Rhaenyra: He called them bastards.
Jacaerys: That’s true.
Rhaenyra, to Viserys: My babies are going to inherit the throne, daddy. This is treason. Maybe Aemond should tell us where he heard it from.
Alicent: All this because of an insult? My baby boy lost his eye!
Viserys, to Aemond: Where did you hear this lie?
Aemond: …
Alicent: It was obviously a joke. It’s probably nothing.
Viserys: Aemond, I asked you a question.
Alicent: Where’s ser Laenor? The boys’ “father” should be here, right?
Viserys: Rhae-Rhae, where is your hubby?
Rhaenyra: Idk. Couldn’t sleep so I took a walk.
Alicent: I think he’s out with his “friends”.
Corlys: *lowkey offended* Bitch, you’re in my house.
Viserys: Aemond, where did you hear it?
Aemond: I heard it from Aegon.
Aegon: Wtf?
Viserys: Aegon! Tell me the truth, where did you hear it?
Aegon: *still drunk af* Dad, I mean, look at them. They don’t have pretty blond hair like us.
Viserys: THIS HAS TO STOP! WE ARE FAMILY!
Viserys: Now say sorry to each other and we can put this behind us.
Alicent: That’s not enough. Aemond is half-blind, saying sorry will not fix his eye.
Viserys: I can’t fix his eye. Wtf do you want me to do?
Alicent: An eye for an eye. I want one of Rhae-Rhae’s son’s eyes in return.
Viserys: Ali-
Alicent: That’s your son, Viserys!
Viserys: Don’t allow your emotions to make you do brash decisions.
Daemon: *enjoying the free netflix subscription* Omfg this drama is so good!
Alicent: Fine, I’ll do it myself.
Alicent, to Criston: Hey, Crispy. Get me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.
Lucerys: *clings to Rhae-Rhae* Mommy!
Rhaenyra: *shoves Lucerys behind her* DON’T YOU EVEN FUCKING DARE HURT MY BABY BOY!
Viserys: Don’t do it, Crispy.
Alicent: He’s my bodyguard, he answers to me!
Criston: …
Viserys: *with an angry tone* Ali! We’re done here.
Viserys: And if anyone else questions the birth of Princess Rhae-Rhae’s baby boys will have their tongues cut off.
Rhaenyra: Thank you, daddy.
Alicent: *losses it and grabs Viserys’ knife*
Lord Commander: Omfg!
Viserys: Ali, wtf are you doing?!
Alicent: *attempts to attack Lucerys*
Rhaenyra: *defends her babies by grabbing Alicent*
Criston: *attempts to aid Alicent*
Daemon: Oh shit’s about to go down.
Daemon: *grabs Crispy* Not so fast, Coleslaw.
Rhaenyra: Ali, wtf are you doing?
Alicent: I did what I’m expected to do all my life, bitch. While all you did was doing what you wanted. Now, you take my baby’s eye and acted like nothing happened.
Rhaenyra: Bitch, it’s not my fault that you’re jealous of me. Maybe you should’ve lived your life like I did. You’re trying to paint me as the bad guy here, but really, you’re just showing everyone your true colors. So, Uno reverse, bitch.
Alicent: *slashes knife*
Rhaenyra: *had her arm slashed and is bleeding* Wtf?
Alicent: *lowkey panics*
Aemond: It’s ok, mommy. It was a fair trade, I guess. I may have lost my eye, but I have a dragon now.
Aemond: *hugs Alicent*
Daemon: *checks on Rhae-Rhae* Are you ok?
Rhaenyra: Bleeding, but I’m fine.
Lucerys: *comforts Rhae-Rhae*
Lucerys: *looks up at Daemon* Other daddy?
. . . . .
Alicent, to Otto: Go on, yell at me.
Otto: Why would I yell at you?
Alicent: I did something bad, making myself, you and my babies look bad because I hurt Rhae-Rhae. Obviously, the tea has been spilled that I’m going crazy.
Otto: Well, that tea is already out.
Alicent: I’m sure Viserys will take Rhae-Rhae’s side from now on. I’m so sorry, daddy.
Otto: I’ve never seen this side of you, Ali. I love it and I’m so proud of you. Don’t worry about that squabble, it’s ok. You only did what you thought was best for your family.
Alicent: But Rhae-Rhae-
Otto: Is a spoiled brat. Everyone knows that.
Alicent: And my hubby?
Otto: He’ll forgive you if you apologize. You’re his wifey. Nothing else he can do. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Besides, your baby boy has brought us a new dragon. That’ll be useful.
. . . . .
Rhaenyra: *had her wound stitched*
Laenor: *enters the room* Wtf happened? Is everyone ok?
Maester: The broken nose’s the worst, but everyone’s gonna be ok.
Rhaenyra, to the maester: Thanks, Maester. Now please, gtfo.
Maester: *leaves* K bye.
Rhaenyra, to Jacaerys and Lucerys: Boys, your dad and I need to talk. Go rest.
Jacaerys: Yes, mommy. *grabs Lukey and leaves*
Laenor: I should’ve been there.
Rhaenyra: Lol those should be our house words.
Laenor: I fought in battles, but couldn’t protect my own family. I suck so bad.
Rhaenyra: Aemond called our sons bastards.
Laenor: I have failed you, Rhae-Rhae. I tried, I swear. The kids, I do love them. But all of it isn’t enough. I hate the gods for making me gay.
Rhaenyra: Don’t be so hard on yourself. Do you know how rare nice guys like you exist these days?
Laenor: Remember back then when agreed to have an open relationship? My bf Qarl will go back to fight in the Stepstones soon, and when he does, I want to make us work again. I'll be a better hubby to you and a better dad to our babies.
Rhaenyra: Give up your happiness?
Laenor: You deserve better, Rhae-Rhae. I’m going to be straight from then on.
Rhaenyra: Oh, boo. You don’t have to do that.
Laenor: But-?
Rhaenyra: Don’t worry, I got a plan where we both get what we want.
. . . . .
Larys: Hi, Queen Ali. I’m sorry about your baby boy losing his eye and Princess Rhae-Rhae got away with shit again.
Alicent: I know. That bitch.
Larys: Do you want me to do something about that?
Alicent: Doesn’t matter anymore.
Alicent: And don’t worry, when I want someone dead, I will actually tell you about it and you’ll do the rest, efficiently.
Larys: Omfg, yes, Queen Ali. It will be an honor.
. . . . .
Rhaenyra: I need you uncle. I can’t face the greens alone. Btw, do you remember when you told me your wife died and I asked you to marry me before I marry Laenor?
Daemon: Yeah, why?
Rhaenyra: That offer is up again.
Daemon: Rhae-Rhae, I can’t marry you because your hubby is still alive.
Rhaenyra: Well, about that.
Daemon: Wait, are you gonna-?
Rhaenyra: Lol no. I’m not a tyrant.
Daemon: Then you just set him free. You know, fake his death.
Rhaenyra: Corlys and Rhaenys won’t be happy about that. I mean, he’s their only kid left. And people will be blaming me, wtf.
Daemon: Who tf cares what people say.
. . . . .
Daemon, to Qarl: Hey, you wanna be with your bf openly and freely?
Qarl: Uh…
Daemon: I can make that happen. You just gotta help me.
. . . . .
Daemon: *kills a servant to serve as Laenor’s body double*
Qarl and Laenor: *stages a fight*
Servant: Omfg they’re fighting. I’ll get help! *leaves*
Qarl, to Laenor: Babe, let’s go!
Laenor: What?
Qarl: *places Laenor’s body double in the fireplace* Let’s run away together. But you gotta shave your head so people won’t recognize you.
Laenor: *lowkey happy* I can’t believe this is happening.
Qarl and Laenor: *gets into a rowboat to board a ship to Essos*
Laenor: Goodbye, Driftmark. Goodbye Westeros. Hello, new life with my bf.
. . . . .
Daemon and Rhaenyra: *gets married in Valyrian tradition in Dragonstone*
Baela: I’m not the only one weirded out by this, right?
Jacaerys: Nope, I’m with you, cousin…or sister? Honestly, idk anymore.
Rhaena:
Lucerys: *still confused af*
Also, Lucerys:
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
That episode had a lot of family drama. The kiddie fight was my fave scene. Cousins who just met that day worked together to beat their dragon-stealing uncle. Talk about family dynamics. Also, I’m glad they didn’t actually kill Laenor. Rhaenyra being Westeros’ 1st ally is just wonderful. The writers did the Velaryons some justice from book deaths. Petition for the writers to make Rhaena claim Seasmoke, because why not? That girl was robbed and deserves her own dragon.
I love this ep, except for the fact that it’s just so fucking dark. Seriously, wtf is Miguel Sapochnik’s problem with lighting?
#house of the dragon#house of the dragons spoilers#rhaenyra targaryen#laenor velaryon#jacaerys velaryon#lucerys velaryon#daemon targaryen#laena velaryon#baela targaryen#rhaena targaryen#viserys i targaryen#alicent hightower#otto hightower#aegon ii targaryen#aemond targaryen#helaena targaryen#corlys velaryon#rhaenys targaryen#vaemond velaryon#vhagar#driftmark#high tide#dragonstone#blacks and greens#dance of dragons#hotd incorrect quotes
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目送 ; oikawa tooru
「alt. title: five times oikawa didn’t look back and the one time he did」
↳ pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader
↳ synopsis: you spend a lifetime watching him go, sometimes with your stomach tied in knots, sometimes with tears in your eyes, but always with love.
↳ genre(s): angst, fluff, basically an emotional rollercoaster, non-linear storyline
↳ warning(s): profanity, depiction of a panic attack, suggestive themes
↳ length: 5.4k words
↳ a/n: hq fam how we doing after 402 ?? LOL anyway this is my birthday gift to oikawa tooru: my sun, moon, and stars, second to none, yadda yadda. the title is taken from a book with the same name, in case you were wondering. please pay attention to the roman numerals ahead of each section!! enjoy!
v.
“This is the last call for Japan Airlines flight 717 to Buenos Aires, now boarding at gate number twelve. This is the last call…”
Goodbyes are hard when you know they’re forever. Or at least a while.
The clamour of Haneda airport dims to a faint buzz as the two of you continue standing with touching shoulders–– facing the jetliner instead of each other–– in futile hopes of delaying the inevitable.
Oikawa knows that you’re holding in your tears by the light tremors running through your body. Permitting himself to steal a look at your side profile, he notices the familiar tensing of your jaw and hard-set look in your red-rimmed eyes.
Tch. You said you wouldn’t cry.
Impulsively, he unzips his backpack and pulls out a familiar turquoise banner. It feels like just yesterday the team handed him the silk fabric with everyone’s farewell gifts wrapped inside.
Out-of-sequence memories of the Spring High qualifiers flash through your mind. The orange-haired Karasuno player’s spike ricochets off Oikawa’s forearms. The numbers on both sides of the scoreboard slowly inch up like they’re taking turns. Oikawa’s white knuckles against the metal basin. Red eyes. Heaving chest. Something soft against your skin. Rule the Court.
And just like the last time, he gently drapes it over your shoulders, brushing his fingers against your neck as he does so. God, how he wants to kiss you.
“But it’s yours,” you protest weakly, making no move to give it back.
“It won’t be for a while.” His voice cracks when he speaks. But it will be mine again when I come back for it.
He wants to kiss you. One last time.
He wants your mouth against his like absolution to a sinner because he knows that what he’s done to you, what he’s doing to you right now, is comparable to desecration. But he remembers the look on your face that night he broke the news to you. How your megawatt grin caved into a wince when the length of his contract with Club Athletico San Juan finally registered in your mind.
You swallow your feelings of betrayal. You knew what you were getting yourself into.
“Five years is an awfully long time to be apart,” you say after a while.
Oikawa bites his lip. He doesn’t have the heart to say that five was just the starting number. If he does well there, he’ll probably stay longer. He’ll probably do well there. “You don’t have to wait for me.”
Seconds drag into minutes. The cavity in his stomach festers as he waits for your response, but he has a feeling that he already knows your answer.
So instead, all he can do when your floodgates finally burst open is cup your face in his calloused palms and wipe away some of your tears before offering you his own watery smile.
Through your blurred vision, you watch as the boy in front of you steels his resolve and disappears from your life through the jet bridge, ignoring his heart as it begs for one last look over his shoulder.
Oikawa nods numbly when the old man sitting beside him asks if he’s leaving home for the first time. Home, he realises, isn’t anywhere with walls, isn’t an address, isn’t even a person. When someone says they want to go home, it’s not a space that they yearn for, but rather, a time.
He watches Japan grow smaller through the window and feels himself yearn for the time he still had your heart in his hands. It felt like he was holding the sun.
i.
You wouldn’t consider July 21st to be a special day. Nothing special happened earlier that morning when you woke up without your usual alarm. Nothing special happened when your friends texted you four simple words–– come to Azukihana beach!–– during breakfast. But (and this will come to you much, much later) something special happened when said friends left you to guard their things as they dashed to the supermarket for more snacks.
For now, it’s just July 21st, and you’re lying with your back against a towel on the first day of summer break, soaking in the sun, peacefully flipping through a book.
“DON’T FUCKING DO IT, YOU COLOSSAL PIECE OF SHIT!” The familiar voice tears through the beach. Was that Iwaizumi? You set the book down and sit up to check.
And suddenly, the yellow and blue volleyball that had been leisurely rolling your way halts perfectly before your toes. Behind it jogs a shirtless brunet you’ve definitely seen around school.
Oikawa Tooru stops right behind the runaway volleyball and peers at you through half-lidded eyes. “Sorry about that,” he says, flashing you a charming smile.
After casually picking up the ball with one hand, he flexes his abdominal muscles as he straightens back up. Chestnut irises attempt to discreetly sweep over your features but you catch his gaze in the act, quirking an unamused brow. You also catch the intrigued twitch of his lips that follow.
You’re not stupid. Despite having never met him, you know a lot about the Grand King (as many call him). He’s the constant subject of Iwaizumi’s ire and you’ve heard a lifetime’s complaints about him at joint-family luncheons.
But here’s what’s important: you know that he tears himself apart to be the player his team needs him to be, that he sometimes makes Iwaizumi wish he’d passed the Shiratorizawa entrance exam, and that he fiddles with hearts like origami and sets fire to those beautiful fragile trinkets right after.
And in the interest of self-defence (but against what the devil on your shoulder begs), you choose to not place your most prized possession on the table.
A simple “no worries” passes through your lips. You return to your book. A page turns.
Oikawa Tooru is dismissed.
Though your gaze is trained on the page, you can feel his presence at your feet for a few seconds longer. You wonder what his next move is. Much to your surprise, instead of trying to strike up another conversation, he simply lets out an airy hum and strolls back to the sand court where he came from without a second glance.
Iwaizumi wonders why Oikawa is smiling so victoriously after watching the whole ordeal, but your tan family friend has, unlike the calculating Grand King, failed to notice one important detail:
your book is upside down.
And, as if in a trance, your eyes have followed Oikawa all the way back to his sandy kingdom.
Once the sun has set, Iwaizumi checks his phone and notices a text he’d missed in the afternoon. It’s from Y/N. Unease digs itself in his chest when he realises it can’t possibly be for anything except…
hey what was that about?
This can’t be good. Thumbs rapidly typing a response, he races to quash any interest you may have budding in Oikawa. You… you’re good. Nice. Smart enough for UTokyo. A bit naive, but he’s been around your overbearing parents long enough to see it’s not entirely your fault. And even though you run in different circles at school, he feels obligated to protect you from monsters that hide beneath pretty surfaces. He’s known you since the two of you were in diapers.
just trash being what it is
Iwaizumi watches the three grey dots on your side appear, disappear, reappear, and disappear again. And that’s when he realises that he cannot help you. The villain in this arc of your story has already sunken his teeth in your tender, unsullied flesh.
trash?
He sighs.
oikawa
It isn’t a surprise to Iwaizumi when summer break ends and Oikawa’s chestnut eyes start hunting for someone in the cafeteria during lunch. He doesn’t raise a brow when he hears that the second-year captain has been sneaking into Class 7, sometimes with flowers in his hands, and strolling out with a dazed look on his face. He slaps his teammates out of shock when Oikawa mentions his troubles with pursuing some girl–– but not before slapping himself first. Because the Oikawa he knows is not a chaser.
“Her name’s Y/N,” the brunet says, suddenly realising that he has never introduced any of his temporary interests to the team. But it’s been well over two months and he’s starting to think he’s been friend-zoned. Or worse. “I think she hates me.” He laughs melodically, then cocks his head in contemplation. “Is it weird that I kinda like that?”
Iwaizumi hides a satisfied smile behind a sip of water. Oikawa’s revelation has cleared the unease your name brought to his chest. Just a little. Perhaps he’d misread you. You have a bite of your own.
iii.
It’s routine for Oikawa to slink into Class 7 with a dazzling grin during morning break, but he’ll sometimes show up with flowers instead just to remind you that his affections, along with his modus operandi–– haven’t changed since he first started visiting you in September.
The girls in your homeroom have grown used to seeing the six-foot-tall volleyball captain hovering around your desk like a butterfly. Most treat him as part of the scenery nowadays. To them, Oikawa Tooru is no longer the mysterious, out-of-reach deity the rest of the school still paints him to be.
So when he strolls into class on a chilly January afternoon with your name a tune on his lips, they leave him be. Recently, the ladies of Seijoh have focused their attentions on some fellow on the swim team, anyway. Oikawa doesn’t feel as upset as he thinks he should about his shrinking fan club, but when his gaze finds yours already steady, expectant, utterly adoring on him, he understands why.
“For the lady,” he says like he does every time. A cluster of yellow flowers wrapped in brown kraft paper plop onto your desk. He pulls a chair up to your side, purposely ignoring, again, how two certain grooves in the wooden floor keep growing deeper with his visits.
You remember the first time he started bringing you flowers.
A posy of pink flowers sits awkwardly on your desk, untouched.
“I tell you I’d rather take your serve to my face than attend the bunkasai with you and your response is to give me weeds?” you reply with your chin in the palm of your hands, amusement blossoming over your features.
“Stop being a tease, Y/N-chan, they’re flowers,” he huffs, crossing his arms on your desk. “And I know you want to take them. The florist even said I have immaculate taste.”
“Really? Then what do these mean?”
Oikawa falters.
“Hmm?”
“Pink camellias,” he finally says, carefully enunciating the flower's name, “means that you’re a fucking tease. And that you should come to the bunkasai with me.” You snort and tell him to quit volleyball and join comedy club, feeling a strange warmth in your chest when he laughs.
The two of you fall into the same rhythm as always, talking a little bit about this and that, throwing in witty remarks where they belong, never passing up the chance to make fun of each other’s little idiosyncrasies. He’s enraptured by the way you string words together to describe the story behind your class’s bunkasai performance and all the gears in your brain whirr when he explains the strategy he’s using against the team Seijoh’s playing later that day.
When the bell rings, he reluctantly drags his chair back to the desk he stole it from. Just before he slinks back out the door, though, you tell him with a stern gaze that the Ushiwaka from Shiratorizawa he just spent the break shit-talking doesn’t hold a candle to Seijoh’s Grand King.
It’s like you had just stepped under a new light. Oikawa pauses in front of the doorway, trying to decipher what it is that’s different about you. And suddenly, the roses in his cheeks are in full bloom. Delighted and puzzled at his own realisation, he turns around without a second glance your way and strides back to Class 5. Oh, man, he muses as he passes through the emptying corridor. Oh, man. Iwa-chan is going to love this.
Your phone buzzes later that evening.
seijoh v. shiratorizawa 1-2, the text reads, quickly followed by, GAH.
Your lips twitch, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. Tapping your fingers against your phone screen for a response that’ll cheer him up, you suddenly remember a phrase Oikawa said earlier that day. It drew a laugh from you when it came out his contorted face. He was obviously still hung up over with the words of the opposing team’s ace. Hopefully, it makes him feel something else coming from you.
you should’ve come to shiratorizawa, you send, grinning.
His response is immediate.
l m f A O
what flowers would you like at your funeral?
And then you’re reminded of his petalled gift on your desk, now comfortably sitting in a glass vase at your bedside. Pink camellias, he said? Curious, you open your laptop and type in the name for its meaning.
Longing, you remember, watching your boyfriend chatter about something–– probably aliens–– animatedly. The yellow flowers on your desk, you realise, are ones you’ve never seen before.
“Oikawa, what’s the name of these?” you suddenly ask. He stops in the middle of his sentence (he was definitely talking about aliens, by the way), and grins smugly.
“Jonquils,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “spelt J-O-N-Q-U-I-L-S, means that your boyfriend’s going to colonise Mars one day. And if you’re lucky, you can be the first queen of Mars. How ‘bout that?”
It doesn’t mean what he says it does, by the way.
ii.
Splashes of pink and orange have already settled into the blue sky above when you step onto the rooftop of Seijoh’s humanities building. Despite the breeze that has swept through the air, the flame of curiosity in your stomach burns just enough for you to turn a cheek to the cold.
Come to the rooftop at 6 PM.
It’s 5:59. Impatient, you study the note in your hand again. Maybe you’ll be able to glean something from the laconic letter this time.
Much to your irritation, no one had seen the author of this note. They had expertly placed the unsigned card on your desk with a single rose and Hershey’s chocolate kiss on top during lunch. Elegantly scrawled, their seven words have had your brain running circles all day around their identity. Could it be…? No–– he seemed completely normal earlier today. Still, you can’t shake your suspicions. They borderline hope.
Who else…
You inhale the cool air deeply and lean back against the rooftop railing, eyes burning a hole into the metal entrance. The door swings open with a high-pitched groan. Your breath catches in your throat.
… if not him?
Time briefly stops when Oikawa Tooru steps through the entrance, still in his volleyball uniform, sweaty from practice, cheeks the same colour as the setting sun. There’s an unusually tentative look on his face, though it’s immediately wiped off and replaced with the realisation that this is real when he sees you slightly slack-jawed, blinking once, twice, three times before letting out a breath.
“You look surprised. Expecting someone else to confess today?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of his uniformed chest. Despite how his features are contorted by his poorly hidden jealousy, you can’t help but feel a flood of blood rush through your veins, lighting every inch of your skin on fire.
Because whether he knows it or not, Oikawa, the Grand King of the Court, prettiest boy in all of Miyagi, has skipped the table and placed his heart straight into your hands.
“Of course not,” you retort. “I just didn’t think you’d… well, do something like this.” And I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Iwaizumi’s words still find their way into your mind sometimes. I didn’t want origami made from my heartstrings.
Oikawa’s demeanour changes and his eyes dart away from your face. Shoving his hands into his windbreaker’s pockets, he admits, “I’ve honestly never done something like this before.” A faint blush spreads across his cheeks.
“Really? You’ve never stepped foot in the fourteenth shrine of Sendai?” you tease, referring to how Seijoh students have claimed this very rooftop as one of the God of Love’s many temples. You both know he holds the school record for the number of visits to this rooftop. At this rate, he could be one of its caretakers.
“That’s not what I meant,” he replies with a scowl, though the awkward tension between you two dissipates. And it feels like the two of you are back at your desk in Class 7, snickering uncontrollably while throwing playful jabs at each other. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Oikawa finally steps forward to join you by the railing.
Humming softly, he rests his elbows on the metal bar, props his head up with his hands, and sets his gaze on the lowering sun.
It’d be unfair to say that you didn’t at least try to enjoy the moment of peace with the boy beside you. But there’s a burning question on your mind that you can’t put off asking any longer.
“Why me?” you finally blurt out. “You could have any girl in this school. What made you choose me?”
The brunet whips his head around, disbelief written all over his face. “You think I chose to chase after the most annoying girl in all of Miyagi?” He laughs. “Ridiculous. I’d never willingly put myself through that unnecessary angst.”
You scoff and cross your arms.
“I think that when you like someone, it’s harder to explain why,” he quickly adds. “‘Cause it’s not supposed to make sense. I bet that the inability to explain your feelings is a prerequisite for true feelings, actually. It’s logical to say that you’d date Person A because they’re smart, or Person B because they’re hot, or Person C because they’re rich. But I’m pretty sure that that’s not… that’s not falling for someone. When you fall for someone… you just do. No logic required. You weren’t an option I ultimately settled on, Y/N. One day I just woke up and thought, if not you, then no one else.”
A beat passes. A flurry of words floods through your brain, only to evaporate when the devil on your shoulder decides that words aren’t quite adequate for what you want Oikawa to hear.
So instead, your feet take you one step closer into his space. Impulsively, your fingers find their way to his nape and your eyes flutter shut and suddenly–– suddenly, your parted lips brush against Oikawa’s. Instantly, he deepens the kiss, soft lips surging against yours like a pulse under pressure. You barely register his arms snaking around your waist, tighter and tighter until the space between your bodies is completely closed off.
Breathless, you finally detach your lips from his. Oikawa, who still has you encircled in his arms, pouts at the loss of contact, though he sulky façade only lasts a second before it gives way to a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He looks magnificent. Cheeks red, lips flushed, chest heaving, eyes wide with excitement. You want to kiss him again.
“One more.” It’s as if he read your mind. “To celebrate that last one.”
When Oikawa finally detaches himself from your lips, it’s to respond to the buzzing in his pocket. Noticing your raised brows, he explains that it’s an alarm for practice. The Spring High Prelims are just around the corner and he doesn’t plan on graduating without never having taken his team to Nationals.
“That’s my cue,” he states with a warm–– read: not apologetic–– smile. He doesn’t grab your hand or look imploringly into your eyes in hopes that you understand, never mind that you just shared your first kiss, never mind that you just became his girlfriend.
If Oikawa’s looking for any sign of your objection, he won’t find any. Instead, you step out of his space with an acquiescent nod. You knew what you were getting yourself into.
“Play well,” you say softly.
But before he heads for the creaky rooftop door, he presses one last kiss to your lips. And then he turns around, whistling as he goes, leaving you beaming behind his back with the light of a thousand suns.
iv.
When Matsukawa hands you the turquoise “Rule the Court” banner after the team lunch with a shit-eating grin on his face, the only resistance you offer is a resigned sigh.
“I’ve been dating Oikawa since we were second years,” you say flatly.
“Sorry, Y/N-san, but it’s the team’s hazing ritual,” he replies, not appearing sorry at all. “And you’re the only one who hasn’t done it.” He jerks his head at the blonde girl standing a little farther from the group with Hanamaki. “Emiko-san did it at the last game.”
“Plus, it’s the Spring High qualifier semifinals!” Kindaichi adds. “It’s an even bigger deal for you to do it now, especially since you had to miss our games on the first two days for school.” The team murmurs in agreement.
You shudder at the thought of your impending distress. Sit in the front row of the cheer squad and raise the banner with a scream every time your boyfriend serves? Fleeing from the Sendai City Gymnasium back home in an expensive taxi suddenly becomes very appealing.
Seeing the expectant and hopeful looks on the rest of the team’s faces, however, you begrudgingly place the banner in your backpack, signalling your acceptance of the horrible, cringe-worthy tradition.
“Where is Oikawa-san?” Kindaichi asks, rotating his turnip-shaped head around rapidly. “He was just at the team lunch. Iwaizumi-san’s missing too…”
Kunimi shrugs, pulling out his copy of the team schedule. He starts herding the team towards one of the courts. “Our game against Karasuno starts about an hour, so we should start warm-ups in around fifteen minutes.”
Worry creeps up your spine. For the past few days, all Oikawa has talked about is this match against his bratty kouhai’s team. And in the past two weeks leading up to today, you haven’t been able to even catch a glimpse of his face outside of break or lunch. To suddenly go missing before warm-ups doesn’t seem like Oikawa. You’re about to ask the team if he’s ever done this before, but your phone starts ringing a familiar tune and the question is set aside.
“Iwai––”
“Third-floor bathroom by the orange pillar. Come alone. Don’t tell anyone. Emergency.” Through his harsh and abrupt tone, you pick up traces of fear.
“What––”
“It’s Oikawa.” The call is cut before you can ask any more questions. Heart suddenly racing, you tell the team that your mother just called with questions about your new smart blender and excuse yourself to “explain what the manufacturers mean by salsify”. No one sees you bolt towards the nearest set of staircases with Oikawa the only thought on your mind.
There are very few things in this world that scare you. Stray hairs in the bathroom, the dark, essays longer than three pages… but the terror that short-circuits your brain when you find your boyfriend in the bathroom–– knuckles white around the sink, chest heaving violently, frenzied pupils surrounded by broken blood vessels–– trumps any fear you’ve faced before.
Iwaizumi stands helplessly beside him.
“Is he having a panic attack?” you question, still unable to move your feet. You’ve never seen Oikawa like this before. He’s the Grand King who hums while he walks, who spams your phone’s camera roll with peace-signs and funny faces, who winks and flirts and teases without regard. But watching the long-deified setter crumble like a measly human before you, you realise that Oikawa is also the guy who tore his meniscus from overexertion, who trades sleep to study his opponents play, who works his body to the bone just to stay a hairline above a certain Karasuno setter.
“A scout for the Schweiden Adlers said that Kageyama will soon surpass Oikawa in skill.” Iwaizumi explains how they had overheard the conversation lowly in your ear. “I got us into this bathroom just before he completely lost it. 5-4-3-2-1 isn’t working. And he won’t listen to a word I say.” What’s 5-4-3-2-1? Well, if it isn’t working then don’t focus on that right now.
Your eyes dart to Oikawa’s quivering body again. “I don’t know how to pull someone out of a panic attack.”
“The goal is to ground him. So use physical touch, make him feel something with texture, and get him to talk,” he responds instantly. Mechanically. Like he’s all-too-familiar with this set of instructions. A heaviness grows in the pit of your stomach when you realise what that means for Oikawa. And yet, from that very dread sprouts strength.
Slowly, you tread over to Oikawa and place a hand on his arm. His muscles tense under your touch but when you murmur over and over that it’s “Y/N, your girlfriend, the most annoying girl in Miyagi”, his fingers loosen ever-so-slightly from the metal basin. He lets you lead him to the bench by the door. He lets you drape the Seijoh banner over his shoulders like it’s armour and wrap your arms around his waist. He lets you press your cheek to his sweat-drenched back.
Get him to talk.
“Remember that quote you showed me from that interview of yours? What was it again?” you question softly.
No response.
“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks,” you say into his ear.
Through the mirror, you see his eyes widen with recognition. In the brief moment of lucidity that washes over Oikawa’s glistening face, you repeat the original question again, followed by his own quote.
Again and again.
And Oikawa finally says back.
“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks.” Focus re-enters his gaze. He blinks as if just waking from a spell.
“That’s right,” you say as firmly as possible. “So don’t you dare break first, Tooru.”
An unreadable blend of emotions scrawls itself over his features. While Oikawa washes his face with cold water, you remember rumination and resolve but can’t decipher the rest, giving up anyway when Iwaizumi pushes open the bathroom door. When the light washes over Oikawa, his face shows no signs of the episode he just had. It’s just like how the sky moves on after a storm, how the sun beams to say, “I’m here now. The rain has gone.”
But sometimes it still rains in spite of the sun.
A sunshower. It sounds so beautiful. But it’s wonderfully sad.
The three of you wordlessly make your way to the court where the rest of Seijoh is likely getting ready to warm up. What are you supposed to say after that? What can you say?
Once the smell of air salonpas and sweat finally greets your nose, Oikawa slips the Seijoh banner off his back and hands it over to you. Guessing that’s your cue to leave, you tell him to play well like you always do before starting to head for the upper deck. Softly, Oikawa asks you to wait.
“Stay for warm-ups,” he adds. “Please.”
From your spot behind the Seijoh divider, you carefully watch for any signs of another breakdown. To your relief, he goes the entire half-hour without a single crack in his disposition, exchanging laidback grins with the team, bantering with Iwaizumi. At one point he even has the audacity to taunt the Karasuno setter Tobio-chan, as Oikawa often says with a sneer.
Sunshowers, Y/N. Sunshowers.
Just before the referees call for the teams to line up at their ends of the court, Oikawa jogs over to you, eyes folding into thin crescents when he smiles.
He pulls the Seijoh banner out from your hands and gingerly cloaks it around your shoulders. Oikawa presses a quick kiss to your lips and murmurs, “Thank you.” Something in face tells you that it’s supposed to mean more than gratitude. Before you can read more into it, he turns back around and jogs to the line where his team awaits. Oikawa grins ferally.
Knowing that your luminous eyes are fixed to his back like his own set of wings, the monster crows on the other side suddenly look more like humans.
vi.
Oikawa isn’t surprised that his text is still unopened. At twenty-seven years old, he’s had his fair share of dead-ends when it comes to love. But he hadn’t expected radio silence from you of all people.
After closing all the tabs of Team Japan’s latest matches, he powers off his laptop and checks his phone again to reread what he wrote to your old number one last time. Still nothing. It’s highly probable you’ve changed phone numbers at least once in the last nine years, but the disappointment’s still there after he powers his phone off for the night. Tomorrow’s a big day and he’s not the same victim of self-destruction he had been in high school.
Or so he thinks, realising that texting the last person he loved the night before the 2021 Olympics volleyball finals might have been slightly irresponsible on his part. A thought arises in his head, though he quickly quashes it. Asking Iwaizumi to pass the message along would be a little overboard, wouldn’t it? Oikawa chuckles, imagining he response he’d get from his best friend (and Team Japan’s team trainer, that traitor).
“Go the fuck to sleep or I’ll put you to sleep, you dumbass simp,” he hears in Iwaizumi’s gruff voice.
He convinces himself that you’ll be there like you’ve always been. After all, he’s spent a lifetime with your pair of watchful eyes on his back. Satisfied, he drifts into a dreamless sleep.
The volume in the Ariake Arena is astronomical. Blood pounds against his ears as he sets the ball in the air, a monstrous grin carving into his face when his teammate José spikes the set straight down the net, drawing a wave of oohs and aahs from spectators on both sides.
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at the flashy Team Argentina setter and finishes taping up Ushijima’s arm.
Oikawa turns haughtily towards the opposite team, gaze zeroing in on Team Japan’s raven-haired setter and the shrimpy ginger beside him. It’s been a while since he last saw them this close in person–– the chance encounter with Hinata in Brazil happened well over three years ago and he hadn’t had the time earlier in the tournament to say hello. Of course they’re the final boss in this arc, he muses, though the thought is void of vexation. Instead, begrudging pride blossoms in his chest. Truthfully, he had expected nothing less from his kouhai.
And he expects nothing less than finally tasting the ambrosia of victory against that monster–– no, an entire generation of monsters–– today. Monsters who happen to be the kids he grew up beside.
He wonders what you’d say at the sight of Japan’s greatest players all gathered on one court. On instinct, his eyes dive into the bleachers, searching for your face. Knowing he’s not likely to find you like this, he tsks, deciding to look for Iwaizumi instead. Maybe he knows where you are.
The referees signal for both teams to line up at their ends of the court. As he steps onto the white boundary line, he notices Iwaizumi’s gaze transfixed on someone in the upper deck on Team Argentina’s side. The neutral expression on his face morphs into shock, then recognition. And then he glances at Oikawa.
The latter’s brows furrow before everything clicks in place.
Who else…
All your memories together hit him at full force–– your face shimmering with tears in front of gate twelve in Haneda Airport, the feeling of your shallow breaths against his neck, the savvy lilt to your voice as you speak.
… if not her?
For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru looks behind his shoulder.
And there you are, leaning against the railing with the old Seijoh flag draped over your shoulders, a tender, splendid smile on your lips.
“Play well,” you mouth.
And Oikawa feels the sun rise back into his hands.
#oikawa tooru#oikawa fluff#oikawa angst#oikawa x you#oikawa x reader#oikawa scenarios#oikawa imagine#oikawa fic#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagines#my search history is... a mess after this#fun fact there are 13 official shrines in miyagi did u know that?#bc now i do :)#and there are also many beaches in sendai#there's an area called seven beaches#it has seven beaches#happy birthday oikawa#hope you can feel my love through this fic#also comment if u catch my tiktok reference!! LOL
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No Strings Attached
Summary - Some words are better remained unspoken but not always. Sometimes it better to just confess.
Pairing - Jensen x Reader, past Jensen x OFC Sarah
Warning - Fluff, angst-ish, secret relationship, smut (18+), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral sex (female receiving), swearing, insecurities, mentions of betrayal.
Word Count - 3178
Square Filled - Rockstar!Jensen ( @spndeanbingo ); Confessions ( @anyfandomgoesbingo )
A/N - This is written for my challenge "Chan's 500 followers challenge".
Request by @deanwanddamons - Hey hon! Huge congratulations on 500 followers! You deserve it 💞 Could you write ‘3. How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?’ Jensen and Y/N 😘 (Hope you like it and sorry it got so long)
Beta'd by the lovely @miss-nerd95 (she is such a sweetheart! Thank you so much)
The beautiful spn dividers by @talesmaniac89
I love the Ackles fam, but for the sake of this fic, Jensen is single and was never married to Danneel.
Your eyes were focused on the man on stage, heart beating loudly as you watched his every movement the way his thick fingers were wrapped around the mic, that little smirk on his face as he sang along to the Eric Church’s song. Your head full of thoughts about what his fingers and mouth could do to you.
“Damn you, really turn me on, paintin' your toenails pink.” He sent you a sideway glance, giving you a knowing smile as he sang the lines. His tongue peeked out of his mouth as it swept over his lips, his action so casual yet it sent the audience into a frenzy. The song enriched by his voice was enough to make you squirm and the memories from last night were not helping you at all.
You should have seen this coming ever since the moment you had stepped into the green room that day, right before the Saturday Night Live. You had smirked to yourself when you saw Jensen's eyes slightly widening at the sight of you in the tight little skirt that you had paired with a see-through button down and matching bra, as you had walked up to him with a glass of wine in your hand.
A blush had crept up your neck when you had felt his eyes all over your body. You had taken a seat right beside him, just to rile him up a bit more. You knew he couldn't even kiss you because no one in the cast knew about your hidden rendezvous. You had furtively glanced at the actor beside you. With one brow raised slightly, Jensen was staring right at you.
“You want to go out there?” You jumped at Richard’s voice, pulling you out from your sinful thoughts. “I know you can sing.”
“You sure? Jensen has set the stage on fire. I don't think I have enough fuel to match that level.” You chuckled, looking out towards the stage as the said man wrapped an arm around Rob’s shoulder, jamming out to the music of the guitar. You hadn't even noticed when he had switched to another song because you were too busy staring at how his biceps flexed under his black shirt with every small movement of his arm. A puff of air left your mouth as he hit a high note in the song.
“Trust me, he will definitely not mind.” Richard winked.
“Um-thanks Speight, but I'd rather stay here and enjoy the show.” You politely declined Richard’s request. Tonight, the stage was a dangerous arena.
You took in a sharp breath as the last notes of the song strung in the air, the crowd erupting into a loud cheer as Rob struck the last chord on his guitar. “Thank you!” Jensen gave a dramatic bow, waving his hands in the air as he was exiting the stage which caused an uproar in the room. Handing over the mic to Rob, the actor left the stage.
“Enjoyed the show, sweetheart?” A smug smile tugged on his lips as he stalked towards you, the look on his face making you go weak in the knees.
“You put on quite a show out there.” You said, placing a hand on his chest.
“What can I say? I am a good performer. There is nothing better than seeing the audience satisfied,” Jensen replied and leaned towards you, bringing his mouth near your ear. “And then leave them begging for more.” Your heart was beating wildly making you gasp as his teeth grazed past your earlobe, a shiver running down your body to your core.
“Jackles!” Jared’s booming voice made you two jump apart. “We are going out for drinks, wanna join?”
“Yeah! Go ahead, I'll...uh-catch up. Y/N’s coming with me too.”
“Uh-okay!” Jared hesitated a bit before he rejoined the awfully jolly group of actors, making their way towards the bar a few blocks away from the convention.
“Ackles, anyone caught your eye yet?” Jared questioned his tv brother, which piqued your interest.
“So, I'm picking up random girls from the bar now to get my dick wet? Jare-” Jensen looked at his best friend with a look of pure disgust in his eyes.
“Jensen, that's not what I-”
“Now, don't start with your relationship crap. You know I don't do relationships anymore.” It wasn't like you didn't expect him to say this, but deep down it still hurt to hear him say that there was no one special in his life. You tuned out the rest of his words as you reminisced about your first night together.
The relationship between you and Jensen was complicated. A few months ago, you had hooked up in his Vancouver apartment after a drunken night and that had started the whole friends with benefit thing. No one knew that you two were sleeping together. It was something you two had decided to keep between yourselves because it wasn't like you were in a relationship, you two just fucked to relieve some tension. Or so you thought. You didn't even realise when you had fallen head over heels for the man but you had managed to keep your mouth shut.
Your eyes roamed around the room until it landed on Jensen to see him staring intently at you. An involuntary shiver ran down your body under his strong gaze. You left your seat and went to sit beside him at which he was taken by surprise.
“Miss me already?” He smirked, an eyebrow raised at you.
“Don’t shave.” You said.
“That doesn't answer my que-” the words got stuck in his throat as you placed your hand on his thigh. Jensen stiffened under your touch but thankfully the action went unnoticed by everyone else.
“What d'you think you're doin’?” He asked, his southern accent slipping through.
“Nothing.” You smirked as you hand travelled upwards towards his crotch but no one could see your little teasing session underneath the table. Jensen swallowed thickly as he fidgeted in his seat, trying to adjust his pants and to remove your hand but you were adamant. You coyly palmed his growing excitement as he sucked in a breath.
“Don't challenge me, Y/N/N.” He growled into your ear, your own panties were now ruined. “I can take you right here, right now. You want me to do that, to teach you a lesson for being a bad girl?”
“Where's your self control, Ackles?” You mocked.
Without answering your question, he suddenly stood up. “Y/N’s not feeling so hot. I think it's best if she goes back to the hotel.” Jensen told the cast. You licked your lips when you saw his dominant side jumping out.
“What ‘bout ya?” Jared drunkenly asked.
“She is in the room right beside me and it's too late. I'm going back to the hotel with her. I'm just being a gentleman.” Jensen said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. Everyone said their goodbyes and if anyone suspected anything, they didn't speak up.
A few minutes after leaving the bar, Clif pulled up in front of the bar. You and Jensen slipped into the backseat. That fifteen minutes drive felt like the longest time you had ever been in a car. The tension was so thick between, it could have been cut with a knife. Jensen did his best to restrain himself, so much so he barely looked at you because even Clif wasn't in on your little secret and you wanted to keep it that way.
You had barely closed the door before you felt Jensen’s hands all over your body. He abandoned his leather jacket before pushing you against the wall.
“I wanted to rip off your clothes the moment you walked into the room.” He murmured as he pinned you to the wall, kissing you roughly. “Do you have any idea how hard you made me tonight? Huh?” He breathed into the skin of your neck, making you whimper.
“Jay-uh, you were a t-tease as well. You sang that song tonight o-on purpose.” You breathed out. A gasp left your lips when Jensen hungrily ripped off your shirt and skirt leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties. You hooked your legs behind his back as he effortlessly picked you up and took you to the bed, putting you down before he climbed on top of you. Impatiently, you tugged at the hem of his t-shirt at which Jensen smirked and pulled the shirt over his head before throwing it on the floor. You took in the perfectly toned muscles of his chest and stomach like you were seeing him naked for the very first time, which of course wasn't, when he put a finger under your chin, making you look up at him.
“Like what you see?” He smirked as your hands travelled up to feel his hard pecs. Jensen grabbed your hand and moved them away from his chest as he leaned down to leave a trail of kisses down your body. You shuddered when his mouth found the sweet spot on your neck. He swiftly removed your bra, leaving only in your lacy panties. “You are so beautiful.” He murmured as he took in your naked form.
There wasn't a single part of your body that he didn't touch. His hands travelled all over your body, squeezing and pinching your skin as they moved until finally stopped on your breasts, kneading and massaging them.
“Jay-” you moaned as he continued to nibble at your sensitive skin. His mouth left your neck before latching onto your right nipple, his tongue flicking the bud making you cry out his name. “Oh fuck,” you whimpered as his fingers worked on your other nipple. You could feel him smirking before his mouth released you from its assault, pressing a kiss on the valley of your chest before moving south.
“Fuck baby, you're so wet. Where's your self control?” Jensen grunted when his hand brushed your damp panties before making a quick job of pulling them off you. He left kisses along the inside of both your thighs before you felt his hot breath fanning against where you needed him the most. He pressed a kiss on your aching pussy as you moaned for the hundredth time that night.
“Mhm, you always taste so good.” He growled against your pussy, the vibration of his voice making you shiver in anticipation. He started licking your clit slowly but then he picked up his pace as his tongue worked overtime. Your hands moved downwards, your fingers entangling with his hair. Jensen’s scruff scratched against your thigh, giving you a sweet, burning sensation which you knew would stay as a reminder of his unholy ministrations. His mouth and tongue continued to give you pleasure as the latter went in deep, hungrily eating you out.
“Fuck Jensen!” You exclaimed when you felt the pressure build up. You pulled at his scalp, making him groan against your pussy before he put a finger in you, at which you whimpered. He pumped in twice before adding another, successfully stretching you open.
“Shit!” Your back arched with pleasure as his fingers curled inside you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. The coil inside you tightened as he kept pumping his fingers.
“Fuck! Fuck Jay!” You mewled as you came on his fingers. He pulled out his fingers, licking them clean, while you tried to steady your breathing. Giving you a quick kiss, he pulled down his pants along with his boxers, his hardened length making you lick your lips at the sight. He took his cock and ran his hand up and down the shaft, the tip of his cock beaded with precum.
“Jensen.” You croaked.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” His deep voice growled as he sat there in all his naked glory.
“I-hm, I want you inside me.” Jensen quickly obliged as he lined himself with your entrance. Your mouth both sucked in a breath when he slipped his cock into you.
“You need to move.” He almost pulled out, leaving only his tip inside you before pushing all of him back in again. You buckled up your hips to match with his thrusts, making him groan. Your pussy clenched around him as the knot in your stomach tightened once again.
“Fuck Y/N!” He growled as his thrusts started to become sloppy.
“I am gonna-Jay!” your back arched as the coil in your stomach snapped and you felt yourself coming undone for the second time that night. Jensen thrusted a few more times before he spilled his seed inside you, coating your walls. “Shit Y/N!” He panted as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck. Pressing his lips on yours, he pulled out of you and rolled over, both of you panting hard, as you came down from your high before he got up to get a piece of cloth to clean you both up.
You were lying in his arms, basking in the post-coital bliss, both of you still in an euphoric state when those fateful words were muttered. “I think I'm in love with you.” The sentence slipped out before you could have stopped yourself and that's when you felt him beside you stiffen up.
“I thought we agreed this thing to be no-strings attached.” He said, his voice hard as rock as he spat the words out, making you wince at the sheer intensity of disgust in those ten little words.
“I-I thought, I'm sorry. I know what I got myself into,” you scoffed, “How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?” You left the soft hotel bed, wrapping yourself with the white sheet to cover your modesty and self-respect or what was left of it.
“Where are you going?” Jensen asked as he watched you pick up the pieces of your clothing strewn about the room, putting them back on as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat.
‘Was that concern in his voice?’ You wondered but you decided not to voice your thoughts instead you retorted, “No-strings attached, remember? I am going back to my room.” And that was the last thing you said before you left hurriedly.
Closing the door behind you, you burst into tears. You almost ran back into your room because you didn't want to be seen by anyone and read some nasty headline on the celebrity gossip page the next day.
You didn't know how long you cried, lying there in your bed as you blamed yourself for completely messing up a good relationship. Wait, why were you even calling your arrangement a relationship?
That man didn't do relationships. How could you be so stupid to say those words to him? Maybe deep down inside, you had hoped that Jensen felt the same about you but after tonight all your hopes had been turned to dust. You laid motionless in your bed with tears streaming down your cheeks until two short knocks on your door interrupted your pity party.
A sense of fear seeped into you. Did someone see you in the hallway? You wondered. Gathering up a bit of courage you opened the door to find the man you least expected to show up on the other side.
“Wha-” Jensen barged into the room, closing the door behind him.
“Sarah, my last girlfriend she-I loved her, God did I love her but she took advantage and stabbed me in the back, left me there in the pool of my own blood.” He let out a shaky breath.
You still remembered that night in the trailer clearly. You and Jensen were still getting to know each other and you had never seen him have a breakdown like that. Sarah had used Jensen's name to get further in the industry and used his money but then she had owned up to never loving him and cheating on him with another man. Thomas was sick so Jared had to leave immediately while you had stayed with him that night in the trailer because you knew if you left him alone, he would have drowned himself in alcohol.
“I swore off dating, then you came along. After our first night in my Vancouver apartment, I didn't want to let you go. You were also healing from your last breakup and we both needed something to release the tension so I asked you to be my friend with benefits.”
“Jay-”
“Let me complete because I owe you an explanation and I'm here to give you one. All this time I was thinking that my feelings towards you were not romantic because I was scared to fall in love again until tonight when I watched you storm out of my room. I realised that I was lying to everyone including myself and I don't think I can live with that. ” You searched his face to find any sort of pity or a lie but all you saw were eyes filled with adoration for you. “Now I know I'm an idiot and I have royally fucked everything up but I think I'm ready to take a leap and I don’t want anyone but you by my side.”
You didn't even know when you had started crying. Jensen came closer to you, cupping your face, he whispered, “I want you, all strings attached.”
“Am I really the person you want?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” A look of confusion descended on his face.
“Okay. I can give us a chance but I need you to be all in. I want you with all your strings attached as well.” You said, your lips curling up to form a soft smile.
“I am all in.” He said and leaned in, capturing your lips with his. Your one hand moved to the back of his neck and another gripped his bicep to ground yourself. It was a soft kiss filled with love and new promises.
“I do have one condition.” You said after breaking the kiss.
“I agree.” Jensen said, pecking your lips.
“You didn't even hear it.”
“I don't have to. I agree with it.” He smiled.
“Well then, no sex for one month.” You smirked as you Jensen's mouth fell open.
“One month?”
“You already agreed to it.” You giggled when he pouted at you. “Oh don't make that face. You have two hands, use them.”
“What about kissing?”
“I think I can allow kissing.” You chuckled making him sigh in relief.
“I love you and I'm a dumbass for not realising it before.” Your heart swelled in your chest as you heard him say those words back. “And I think Jared is going to earn some betting money in the morning when we walk into the room hand in hand.”
“We are telling everyone about us? So no secret meetings?”
“No secret meetings. I will shout it from the rooftops that you're mine because like I told you, I want you with all the strings attached.”
Feedback is highly appreciated!
#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#jensen x reader#jensen x you#jensen x y/n#jensen ackles x you#rockstar jensen#spndeanbingo challenge round 1#anyfandomgoesbingo2020#chans500followerschallenge#supernatural#supernatural fanfic#rpf#jensen ackles fanfic#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen fic#jensen fanfiction
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star wars human! high school! au
i’ve seen so many headcanons circling throughout the star wars tumblr about high school au’s, so i wanted to share my bit with all of you :D
anakin skywalker
five words: REBEL CHILD ON A MOTORCYCLE.
he doesn’t like riding the school bus because it makes him feel extremely claustrophobic, so he scrapped and scavenged up parts to make his own customized motorcycle, which he lovingly dubbed artoo.
the blue and silver detailing was the joint effort of ahsoka and obi-wan, because anakin doesn’t know how to paint.
if he can catch up to the bus, he’ll ride alongside it and flip off the students on it before revving on ahead of them. (the freshmen think it’s the funniest thing in the universe)
probably one of the most well-known juniors in the entirety of temple high school (mostly because of his shenanigans but partly because he’s dating padme fuckiNG AMIDALA, PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE DAMN SCHOOL)
he always wears this worn-down leather jacket his mom gave to him before she passed away, and refuses to take it off, even though it’s somehow “a violation of the dress code and should be outlawed.”
his hair alone has seduced eight different students (boys and girls)
sometimes during study hall, ahsoka or padme will get a hold of his hair and style it into little braids or make a super rad ponytail.
he really likes iced coffee with milk and sugar. he puts in the milk to make it nice and light (it’s aesthetically pleasing, obi-wan!), and then like eight tablespoons of sugar to make it actually taste good.
his favorite class is mechanics, taught by kit fisto.
anakin spent months on a mechanical arm project to replace his clunky plastic prosthetic, and he was so freaking happy when it was finished; he almost cried. (he did cry and ahsoka got it on video)
obi-wan kenobi
a mixture of the soft™, pretty™, hippie™, grunge™, vsco™ and nerd™ tropes.
he really likes peppermint tea with lots of honey but takes his coffee black.
he has had too much tea.
someone needs to stop him.
almost all of his classes are ap courses, and if cody hadn’t been watching when obi-wan was making his schedule, all of them would be.
him, cody and padme have ap english with mace windu, and cody knows how much his classes stress him out, so he lets obi-wan sleep during class and sends him the notes
the only ap class obi-wan doesn’t take is mechanics, and he shares that class with anakin.
anakin and obi-wan are super close with each other. kenobi was there when ahsoka was adopted, and anakin was there when kenobi got his cat. (they were like 5 okay)
“NAME IT C3PO OBI-WAN, OR I SWEAR TO FUCK-” “what kind of name is that, and why would i - anAKIN PUT HIM DOWN!?”.
mr. fisto constantly has to split them up for disrupting the class, but it’s almost like they can communicate telepathically, and the teachers have a running bet
mace windu literally bet $50 on these fucking nerds so you know it’s for realsies
in reality, they’ve just gotten super creative with passing notes.
kind of off topic, but he has these brown harry potter glasses that he uses (kinda for reading???? but mostly so he can do that anime pushing up glasses thing)
cody thinks it’s the funniest shit ever
whenever cody is feeling stressed, obi-wan just does the thing™ and BOOM! happiness.
people think he’s a goodie two shoes, and honestly, it’s really easy to think that. if the iconics are trying to do something stupid, he’s usually the voice of reason.
but parties?
…
you know what, just ask anakin for the video footage.
ahsoka tano
this hs!au ahsoka tano turned me bisexual confirmed ✔
okay before i go into her style, which is mainly what made me drool over my computer, can i just put skatergirl!ahsoka out there?
spray painting of the rebellion symbol all over the bottom of her board and on items in a couple of the places where she skates the most (like the back of an abandoned car yard)
her instagram is filled with these super cool vhs-tape recorded skate videos (u know)
lots crackhead 3am visits (starring anakin, rex, kenobi and barris) to a gas station to get slushies and grind the shit out of the curb connecting the store to the parking lot
trying to teach anakin how to skateboard but he just can’t figure it out? uh yes
“try to balance skyguy!” “HOW DO I MOVE? DO I SCOOT? SNIPS THIS ISN’T FUNNY AND I WANT TO GET OFF – GUYS, STOP LAUGHING!”
okay okay okay i’m done
for now
anyway, her style???? is so???? fucking????? cool!!!!!
her genetics gave her a 80% of having vitiligo, so it really wasn’t a surprise when patches of her skin got lighter, but it still freaked her out a little bit.
basically, went like this: “DAD, I’M TURNING WHITE!” “???? oh my gosh ‘soka, no.”
she has long braided dreadlocks she dyed a super bright orange with various colored beads woven into them with the help of anakin and padme. she usually styles them into little space buns atop her head.
her entire clothing wardrobe consists of fishnets, neon bomber jackets, at least 11 bisexual beanies™, handmade patchy jeans, white tank tops, and light-up platform shoes.
she doesn’t give two flying fucks about the dress code, and – IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOST BUSY HALLWAY - punched principal sidious over whether or not she “could wear shorts that short” (anakin may or may not have cheered when she broke his nose).
the fetts (chuck have mercy)
*cracks le knuckles* i’ve put it off long enough
we have: fox (24), wolffe (19), cody (17), rex (17), echo (16), fives (16), boil (15), waxer (14), hardcase (13), jesse (12), longshot (8), kix (6), tup (3), gree (2) and boba (9mo)
wolffe is off at college - fox already graduated and moved out, that cheeky little fucking shit - but both still keep in good contact with the fam, and it’s a constant clamor between eleven of the siblings of who gets to talk to them first
fox majored in government/politics, bly is majoring in space/astronomy, and wolffe is majoring in police/law enforcement shit (i don’t know how college works, so sue me)
cody and rex are juniors, and despite their similar looks, the amount of schoolwork each of them completes drastically varies
cody is the honor roll student, valedictorian, whatever you want to call it
rex kinda just either does the work really well or 9/10 times gets distracted by anakin or ahsoka sending him some nice spicy memes
cody tried to tutor rex but it ended up almost landing tup in the hospital
“that’s really simple, actually. if you – vod? rex, are you okay? what are you oH NO TUP DON’T PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH-”
fetts on the varsity football team is like a right of passage in the family
right now, only the juniors of the fett family are on the team, but the coach has eyes on fives and echo for next years team
SPEAKING OF
echo, fives and boil are the infamous sophomore trio that pulled the milk bucket prank on the gym teacher, pong krell.
they had to help the janitor (99) clean up afterwards, but they genuinely enjoyed 99’s company, because he’s rad as shit and knows all the secret school passageways.
to be honest, not one person (except maybe sidious) was complaining
that motherfucker makes everyone run like eight laps during gym class
even mr. windu gives them a small smile in the hallways after that
boil says he was blackmailed into it
waxer is a freshman (the poor dude, i’m so sorry), and he always looks out for the nervous freshies
if someone is having a bad day, he’ll give them a lollipop (he carries around a whole bag), a place to sit during lunch, and a shoulder to cry on
all you need to do to find waxer is to locate this long ass line of children
the school counselor, plo koon, sometimes brings his niece numa into school during the day because he can’t find a babysitter, and waxer. fucking. loves. her. PERIOD.
w+n pull these tiny little pranks on teachers, and the staff pretends not to notice, but numa always giggles and gives them away.
boil has a soft spot for numa too, and sneaks her rice krispies.
bonus shit i want to add in but can’t figure out where to put it (or i’m just gonna add it on and shit)
plo koon adopted anakin after his mother died (him and anakin’s mother were good friends), and found ahsoka on the side of the street, shivering like a maniac.
he doesn’t know where ahsoka came from, but he loves her so gOD DAMN MUCH.
he’s the school counselor, and still keeps in touch with a lot of students even after the graduated (he thinks that majoring in law enforcement/police is a bit dangerous for wolffe but he still supports his unofficial but basically son 100%)
yoda is the super old but radically rad english teacher.
his entire point of existence in my mind fic is to troll the shit out of palpatine.
a recent conversation starring yoda and palps: “did you give the students the mountain of extra work i assigned them?” “for the students, that was?” i’m sorry. my bad, that is.” “this is the seventh time, yoda.”
okay but for real
mace windu violently roots for the school football team.
“BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM, CODY! YOU TOO...OTHER CODY!”
“THAT’S A HOLDING! THAT’S A HOLDING!”
“REF IF YOU DON’T COUNT THAT TOUCHDOWN THEN I SWEAR TO SAMUEL L. JACKSON I WILL COME DOWN THERE AND BEAT YOUR SORRY PINSTRIPED ASS!”
#star wars#star wars the clone wars#swtcw#human au#high school au#anakin skywalker#ahsoka tano#obi-wan kenobi#padme amidala#mace windu#plo koon#yoda#darth sidious#nala#okay#whew#now all the fetts#commander fox#commander cody#commander rex#captain rex#echo#fives#boil#waxer#hardcase#longshot#jesse#tup#196 hc
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Along For The Ride: How it Started
Word Count: 2.4k
October 12th, 2016
"Carse?"
Although Carson was aware someone was talking to her, she didn't respond since she was a little distracted by the direct message she had just received on Instagram.
She was in her seat on the VIA Rail train she and her friend Stephanie were taking from Toronto to Ottawa. It was the first Maple Leafs game of the season, so they were making the commute to watch since it also happened to be Mitchell Marner's, Carson's cousin and Steph's boyfriend's very first NHL game ever.
"Carson?"
"Yeah?" She asked, jumping slightly as she was suddenly brought back to reality.
"I was asking how your class was this morning," Steph chuckled while shaking her head.
"Oh, uh, it was fine," Carson tried to play off her distracted state. "Lexie and I did our law presentation. I think it went alright."
"Law? Aren't you in journalism?"
"Yeah, we took intro law as an elective," she explained before looking down at her phone screen again and biting down on her bottom lip.
Steph observed as she did this and knew well enough that Carson would not mention whatever was happening on her phone unless it was brought up. "What's got you so flustered?"
"Nothing!" Carson insisted but only received a pointed glance in return from the girl sitting across from her. Thanks to Steph's relationship with Mitch and just how close Carson was with her cousin, the two girls formed a great friendship which led to them being able to read each other like books. It tended to be a blessing and a curse. "Ok fine, maybe not nothing."
"Explain, please."
Carson sighed.
"Well, you know Auston, right? Like, Matthews?"
"I've heard of him," Steph teased, knowing that Auston started following Carson on Instagram entirely out of the blue a little over a month prior. "Kidding. Yes, of course, I do. He and Mitch have gotten pretty close since he moved to Toronto."
"Right, 'cause he's not from here, is he?" Carson asked, genuinely curious.
"No, Scottsdale, I think. Why?"
"Uh, no reason," she replied. "It's not that important, I guess. He just messaged me on Instagram, though."
"Did he!? Let me see," Steph gasped before snatching the phone right out of her friend's hand.
Carson watched as Steph effortlessly typed in the passcode and opened Instagram. She was still kind of surprised that she'd gotten a message from Auston at all, but it did make sense.
When the two girls first got on the train, Carson took a selfie of her and Steph in their Maple Leafs gear with a Go Leafs Go hashtag. They were sporting matching Marner jerseys and had received a few compliments from other fans getting on the same train.
The brunette thought nothing of the post she made, so when she received a DM from Auston replying to her story and saying "wish us luck," she was very caught off guard.
"Well, are you going to reply?" Steph asked while handing the phone back.
"I guess," Carson told her and looked back to the screen. "It's just a little weird that he messaged me, don't you think?"
"Not really. People message people on Instagram all the time."
"Yeah, but like, he's this huge hockey prospect, is he not? So why message me, of all people? Let alone follow me in the first place..."
"Ok, I will admit that Mitch and I have hyped you up a bit," Steph said while sinking back into her seat.
"Why?"
"He's new to the city," she explained with a shrug. "When he first got here, he didn't really know anyone other than the guys on the team and some of their girlfriends. So we were telling him about people he'd probably meet eventually, and you were one of them."
"I see," Carson responded and looked back down at the cellphone screen. She typed back a quick response to Auston's message saying "good luck" before tucking the device back into her bag and glancing up at her friend again. "I guess it's not that weird; I have made friends with a few of the guys on the team."
"Yeah, I know. Mitch told me how you ran into Willy and Kappy a couple of weeks ago while you were out."
"Mhmm, what started as a date night with myself ended up being a night of hanging out with those two... Oh, shit, we're like 20 minutes away from the station. Any word from the fam in Ottawa yet?"
"Your aunt texted me saying that she, Paul and Chris were almost there. Is anyone else coming?"
"No, just me," she said. "Dad and Nate are watching from home, but they'll be at the game in Toronto on Saturday. Mya said she'd watch the game as soon as she was done class too. She wasn't sure what channel the game would be on in Vancouver."
"Is it not the same there as it would be here?"
"That's what I said!"
"Fair," Steph replied with a smile. "Anyways, guess we better make sure we have all our things. It's going to be a long night."
And it was a long night... but it was also insanely fun.
The two girls were picked up by Carson's aunt Bonnie, uncle Paul and cousin Chris at the VIA station in Ottawa before going with them to grab something to eat and eventually making way to the Canadian Tire Centre to watch the game against the Senators. They definitely weren't the only Leafs fans in the building, but the Ottawa fans kind of outnumbered them. However, that didn't dampen their mood, and they were more than ready for the game to start.
It was the most surreal feeling for Carson to not only witness her cousin and lifelong best friend skate out onto the ice wearing the jersey of their home team but also just to see that he was finally living out his dream. She couldn't have been more proud and was convinced that she and Steph alone were two of the loudest cheerers in the entire arena as they began yelling along with the crowd.
Not only did she think it was cool seeing Mitch out there, but she also loved seeing all the other players that she'd gotten to know over the past couple of months. Carson quickly spotted Willy and Marty. She then chuckled when Steph sent a zoomed-in Snapchat video of number 17 skating around to his girlfriend, Sydney. However, it didn't take long for Carson's gaze to fall on number 34.
Leading up to the beginning of the season, all Carson heard about how good this Auston Matthews guy was; she would've been lying if she said she wasn't a little excited to see him in action. And boy did he put on a show.
With less than 12 minutes left of the first period, Auston scored the first goal of the game and the first goal of his NHL career. The Leafs fans went wild, as did Carson and her family while they watched the other guys skate up to congratulate their teammate. That was pretty cool to see, but Carson was not prepared for what the rest of the game held.
The Senators pulled ahead by scoring two goals, but that didn't last too long because Auston scored another goal before the period was even over.
"Oh my god," Carson said aloud as everyone went nuts again. "He's really good."
"I know," Steph replied, looking just as shocked as Carson felt. "I mean, Mitch said he was good but... wow."
A couple of minutes into the second period, he scored again, and Carson was speechless. It took her a second to register that this kid had just gotten a hat-trick in his first NHL game, but she was quickly brought back to reality when a ton of ballcaps started flying past her as they were thrown onto the ice. She looked down at where Mitch was on the bench and smiled as she observed him cheering along with his teammates about what had just happened. The energy in the arena was just insane.
After watching her cousin for a few seconds, Carson moved her gaze to the people in her section and saw a couple cheering so loudly a few rows behind them. The woman then started crying and was pulled into the embrace of the man next to her.
"That's Auston's parents," Steph explained, and Carson could basically feel herself melt after witnessing the genuine reaction of two very proud parents, sending Auston's mom a soft smile when they briefly made eye contact before looking back to the ice.
Then, just before the second period ended, he scored a fourth goal, and none of it seemed real anymore.
The Leafs ended up losing 5-4 in overtime, but that still didn't prevent a buzz in the crowd after everything that happened in that game. Once everyone began clearing out of the area, Carson and her family made their way down to the wings, so they could congratulate Mitchell on his first game as a Maple Leaf before eventually having to head back to Toronto.
The five of them knew they'd have to wait for a little bit, seeing as Mitch would have to change out of his equipment and possibly do a post-game interview. Still, soon enough, the NHLer made his way to his family and Carson couldn't help but laugh when she heard her cousin approaching before actually seeing him.
She stood to the side as she let her aunt, uncle and cousin greet their superstar, but as soon as Mitch was done talking with them briefly, he looked in Carson's direction, shaking his head before taking a few short strides and engulfing her in a hug.
"Congratulations! You killed it out there."
"Thanks, Carse," Mitch replied before moving away. "It would've been nice to score a goal, but it still feels amazing regardless. Thanks for being here."
"You know I wouldn't miss it," she told him with a smile. "And it looks like you'll just have to score in Toronto on Saturday to redeem yourself."
"I'll try," he told her with a pointed gaze before moving on to Steph and pulling her into a tight hug next.
Carson watched with a grin as the two lovebirds interacted for a second before going to step away and stand with her family. However, when she went to step back, she came in contact with what felt like a brick wall and completely lost her balance.
"Oh, shit," she muttered as she blindly reached out to grab onto something so she could steady herself, all while bracing herself for impact. However, the impact never came. Instead, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and was able to prevent her from falling on her ass. With a sigh of relief and embarrassment, she straightened herself out and stood back up straight before finally turning around to look up at the person she had just collided with. "I'm so sorry..."
Before she could say anything else, Carson felt her breath hitch as she realized she was face to face with none other than Auston Matthews.
"It's alright," he told her with a slight smile, giving a look as if to say that he definitely recognized her. "I wasn't watching where I was going either."
"I-." Before she could say anything else, an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Mitch's voice sounded from beside her.
"Auston, I see you've officially met my baby cousin Carson."
"Baby?" Carson scoffed and looked up at her cousin with a mortified expression. "Mitch, you're literally 12 days older than I am."
"Older and wiser."
"I don't think so," she told him before elbowing him in the gut so that he'd take his arm off her.
He groaned and hunched over in pain, making sure to send her a death glare as he tried to recollect himself.
"Uh oh, the twins are at it again," a voice spoke as someone else approached from down the hallway, and Carson looked up to see William Nylander approaching.
"Twins?" Auston asked and looked between Mitch and Carson with an amused expression.
"The more you see them together, the more you'll see how true that statement is," Steph said as she wedged herself between the two cousins to keep them from annoying each other any further. She then looked at Carson and nodded. "We have to get back to the station real soon if we want to catch our train back to Toronto."
"Right," Carson responded. "I'm good to go whenever you are."
"Ok, cool, let's just say our goodbyes, and then we can split on a cab there? Deal?"
"Deal."
The small group that had formed dispersed as new conversations formed, and Steph started saying bye to everyone seeing as Mitch was driving back to Toronto with some teammates, he was going to visit with his family. They were in no hurry to leave.
Unfortunately, though, Carson had class at noon the next day, and Steph had to return to London for her classes as well, so they really did need to get going.
Before moving to say goodbye to Mitch and the rest of her family, Carson looked back to Auston once more to see him still smiling at her.
"You played a really great game tonight," she complimented and smiled back. "Congrats."
"Thanks," he chuckled. "It's all pretty crazy to let sink in. I definitely think your good luck message helped, though."
"Oh, I'm sure it did."
The two laughed before becoming quiet again. Unsure of what else to say, Carson, glanced at her family and figured she should start making her escape. She looked back to Auston, and surprisingly enough, he was the first to speak up again.
"I, uh, I guess I won't keep you from catching your train back to Toronto," he started and looked away slightly. "It was nice... officially meeting you, Carson."
"Yeah, I should probably get going before Steph comes back over here and starts dragging me out," she replied, causing him to laugh. "It was nice meeting you too, Auston. Congrats again, maybe I'll see you around."
"I'd like that. Get home safe."
"You too, well, to wherever you're going," she mumbled and sent him one last smile before walking away, trying to keep a straight face at the look Steph was giving her as she approached everyone else and said her goodbyes.
What she didn't notice, though, was how Auston watched her for a second as she walked away, intrigued by the entire interaction he just had with her and couldn't help smiling to himself as he shook his head and went his own way.
#nhl imagines#nhl fanfiction#auston matthews fanfiction#auston matthews imagine#nhl imagine#toronto maple leafs imagine#nhl rpf#nhl headcanon#hockey fanfiction#hockey imagine#hockey rpf#auston matthews imagines
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Negotiation
So @rocketoo7 and I had a chat and agreed that there is just not enough fanfiction of River Song kicking ass in hand to hand combat. So here you are, literally just River fighting off bad guys and the Doctor & Fam watching adoringly/terrified/a little horny. Recreating this awesome bad ass scene from the most recent episode of Star trek: Discovery because, you know, Georgiou and River have the same BDE. Writing action is hard so I sort of did this as a quick exercise to practice, it's no great work of genius but it was fun. Anyway, enjoy! :D
Ship: River/13
Rating: T (I guess?)
Word Count: 1600
AO3
Negotiation
“So what’s the plan, Doc…“ Graham asked as the Fam crowded together behind the Doctor. The were in a sort of bar in the far-flung reaches of the galaxy. What had been meant to be a lovely walking tour ending with a pint at the pub, had turned into a bit of an unfortunate situation that involved guns and a band of bandits wanting to steal the TARDIS.
“Working on it…“ The Doctor retorted drawing herself to full height attempting to shield her friends from the guns pointed at them.
“You always say words beat guns, this would be a great moment to prove that theory.“ Yaz quipped.
“I suggest you show us to your ship.“ The bandit leader, an unpleasant looking fellow with greasy hair, said.
“Well, that wouldn’t be much use because you wouldn’t be able to fly her.“ The Doctor retorted, trying to reason.
“That’s our concern, not yours.“ He shot back, annoyed at her back-chat. “Get a move on.“ He pointed towards the door of the bar.
“Why would we show you to our ship when you want to steal it and leave us stranded?“ Ryan asked.
“Because you want to live.“ The bandit snarled.
“Living, yes, big fan of living, maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement where we just, you know, drop you off somewhere along the way?“ The Doctor intervened, trying her best to sound positive.
Suddenly there was a discharge of energy, like a flash of lightning but it wasn’t a shot as the Doctor had expected.
“Did I interrupt a critical moment of diplomacy?“ River Song looked around the room at the shocked faces all round, immediately guns were pointed at her and ignoring that fact, she gave a little wave to her wife who seemed frozen to the spot.
“How did you get in here?“ The leader of the bandits barked at her.
“Oh you know, just your standard vortex manipulator, cheap and nasty time travel but it’ll do in a pinch. And when one’s wife is being held at gunpoint? It makes for a great entrance.“ River retorted in amusement and winked at the Doctor who shook off the initial shock.
“Did she just say wife?“ Yaz asked and exchanged confused glances with Ryan and Graham. They had seen a lot of things travelling with the Doctor but having someone teleport into the middle of a stand off claiming to be the Doctor’s wife… that was new.
“You know her?“ The bandit leader looked back to the Doctor.
“Ah well, see you got yourself into a bit of a tiff now. That my friend River…“ The Doctor caught River’s affronted glance and corrected herself. “And when I say friend, I mean wife, and unlike me doesn’t mind hurting people, shouldn’t like that, kinda do…“ She shrugged giving her wife a little wink.
“Glad to see some things never change.“ River smirked.
“Well, you know I like a bad girl, me.“ The Doctor grinned.
“You can show me just how much when we’re done here.“ River retorted smoothly.
“Are you flirting?“ The bandit leader interrupted, annoyed at being ignored.
“Sorry, it’s been a while. She was a white hair scotsman last time we met. Back to you, you were saying?“ River turned to the bandits almost patronisingly. She was already formulating a plan. There was seven bandits in total… shouldn’t be too difficult.
“I want that device.“ He pointed to her vortex manipular.
“When I say, you hide behind the bar, okay?“ The Doctor spoke softly and turned to the Fam. They nodded uneasily, before returning their attention to the face off between the mystery woman and the bandits.
“Hand it over.“ He insisted.
“What, this?“ River lifted her wrist that the vortex manipulator was strapped to.
“Hand it over or you die.“ All guns were on her now.
“I don’t respond well to threats.“ She shook her head disapprovingly.
“And I don’t respond well to surprises.“ He squared his jaw.
“Oh, then you’re gonna hate this.“ River smirked and gave the chair next to her a kick, knocking it right into him, knocking him over.
“Now, Fam, right now, take cover.“ The Doctor exclaimed and Ryan, Yaz and Graham didn’t need to be told twice, they dove behind the bar and watched the mystery women swipe her arm across a nearby table throwing glasses at the men coming towards her. They turned from the flying splinters guarding their eyes just long enough for River to grab a bottle and smash it over the closest attacker’s head knocking him out. She ducked an oncoming punch and rammed her knee into another bandit’s gut.
“Okay, who the hell is she, Doctor?“ Yaz exclaimed watching the scene in front of them in shock.
“Long story, people usually need a flow chart…“ The Doctor retorted, looking on uneasily and admiringly in equal measures.
River ducked a blast and threw herself into the shooter, she knocked his arm with the gun up and smashed her elbow against his temple. As he fell to the floor she kept hold of his arm and took the gun, shooting a man coming at her from the right.
“See, boys, when you let me have a gun, things are almost over.“ She taunted with a smirk. She jumped onto the edge of a table to her left flipping it over, knocking out another bandit with the other half of the table flipping upwards. She landed and steadied herself from the little stunt when someone lunged at her from behind and put her in a headlock, forcing her to drop her gun. She rammed her elbow into his stomach, then knocked her head backwards into his face. He let go groaning in pain. Probable a broken nose, nothing too serious. Behind her, the lead bandit pulled his gun on her. She whirled around pulling the man with the broken nose in front of her and used him as a shield. He took two of his boss’s shots before he stopped firing. River grabbed a hunting knife that was strapped to the bandit that was limp in her arms now and threw it, catching the bandit leader in the shoulder. He let out a strangled cry of pain and dropped his weapon. Plenty of time for River to drop the dead bandit and pick up her gun again.
“Oh mate, that was like stealing sweets from a child.“ She grinned slightly out of breath as she headed towards him.
“River!“ The Doctor shouted as one of the others slowly got back to their feet but River was ahead of her. She only half turned to fire, she barely looked, but struck them down. The leader of the bandits scrambled for his weapon but River stepped on his wrist and held the gun to his head.
“Remind me. What was your negotiating position again?“ She asked in amusement.
“I think he got your point.“ The Doctor drew her attention as she got up from behind the bar, all the other men were either dead or unconscious.
“Did he? Because my finger is rather itchy.“ River chuckled.
“You bitch.“ The bandit leader spat.
“Sounds to me like he hasn’t learned his lesson.“ She stepped off his hand but only to deliver a kick to the side of his head and knock him over.
“I’m going to hunt you down. You’re gonna wish you died here when…“ He groaned in pain.
“Spare me the empty promises, that implies you’re gonna walk out of here alive.“ River pointed the gun at his head.
“River.“ The Doctor tried to get her attention.
“Not now Sweetie.“ River huffed.
“I really think you’ve made your point.“ The Doctor insisted more firmly.
“You’re no fun at all.“ River sighed and used the hilt of the gun to knock him unconscious.
“That was…“ Ryan didn’t really have words. They looked around the room taking in the destruction. Broken glass, thrown over tables and chair, seven grown men flat out. River meanwhile pocketed the gun. It would be a nice addition to her collection and a lovely memento of this trip.
“Fam, meet Professor River Song.“ The Doctor grinned as River walked up to join them. The three of them didn’t know what to say. There was a lot of information they had yet to process.
“You’re welcome.“ River smirked.
“That was… quite the safe. Very impressive.“ The Doctor had to admit as she came to a halt in front of her.
“Oh, you were watching?“ River smile innocently.
“Very carefully.“ The Doctor couldn’t help but admit.
“I bet you were.“ River smirked.
“Worked up a bit of a sweat haven’t you. You look a bit flustered.“ The Doctor observed, brushing back her curls a little.
“In my defence, so do you.“ She replied in amusement, running her hand along the Doctor’s coat collar.
“Right, okay, we get it.“ Yaz interrupted the flirting, unable to watch any longer. “Beating up bad guys is a turn on. Now, can we get out of here before they wake up?“
“Wouldn’t want me to have to do it again, would we.“ River sighed and winked at the Doctor who blushed.
“Let’s go back to the TARDIS.“ The Doctor agreed and they crossed the room, stepping over the bandits.
“So, what sort of a professor are you?“ Graham asked trying his best to sound casual and ignore the destruction all round.
“Archeology.“ River replied cheerfully. “Love a tomb.“
#river x thirteen#river song#river song being river song#bde#doctor who#thirteen#thirteenth doctor#13#fanfiction#space wives#yowzah#star trek discovery#Hand to hand combat#action#is so hard to write#river x the doctor#jodie whittaker#Alex kingston
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I've talked about this to @supermarine-silvally before, but I felt like this was something worth sharing with everyone, and that's:
I realized that all of my One Piece OCs have a very special relationship with Sanji, but they all have a very different relationship/dynamic with him.
Luna and Sanji are in a romantic relationship, yes, but it's a lot more mellow compared to Cora/Sanji - which is funny because animanga!Sanji is arguably a lot more over the top than opla!Sanji. But the main difference is that, while Cora joins in on Zoro and Sanji's bickering for her own entertainment, Luna is a huge calming and grounding force. Generally, Luna's relationship with Sanji is very based on the aspect of protection. Yes, Sanji protects Luna, but Luna also protects Sanji. Being a guardian angel is literally her thing. There's also the subtext of a goddess and her follower, which is a whole new thing to unpack.
Inari is essentially Sanji's little sister. Also, the entire WCI arc takes on a whole new dimension with Inari being Big Mom's daughter and Pudding being her twin sister. Until that point, she was close to delusional in her optimistic view on her family, but the whole thing is a huge eye opener, and both of them actually go through unwanted/scary changes to their body after the arc, so that's another parallel.
I already talked a bit about Cora, but the huge aspect that plays into their dynamic is, of course, their shared past, and (mainly) Cora's resulting trauma. Also, there's Zoro. Them being in a polyamorous relationship is a whole new aspect. You've heard of ZoSan bickering, now get ready for Cora adding her own teasing into the mix.
Is Lily another little sister figure? No. Sanji is pretty much Lily's dad. Like, the type of dad who loves his little daughter, thinks she can do no wrong and absolutely spoils her. Just like how Zeff just acquired custody over Sanji, Sanji just acquired custody over Lily because one of her former caretakers decided to almost die (Zoro) and the other decided to just leave (Nami).
And finally, Aurelia. Aurelia is Sanji's matron and mother figure. She came to Baratie, saw this child with mommy issues, and promptly decided to adopt him. If anyone dares hurt him, they had better make sure that they wrote down their will and think about their last words. Ever wondered how Sanji can afford his fancy suits and specific cigarette brands and whatnot? It's Aurelia. She loves to absolutely spoil him with gifts and Sanji basically just has to ask a little nicely and she'll give him money. Sanji sees a mother figure in Aurelia because she's actually caring and patient with him, and she's one of the few women that he actually allows himself to be vulnerable around.
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Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene - let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!
#one piece oc#opla oc#oc: aether s luna#oc: charlotte inari#oc: akaito coraline#oc: felicity#oc: dracule aurelia#otp: the angel and her devil#brotp: though we don't share the same blood#otp: mr prince and his princess#fam: go ahead and cry little girl#fam: mama's boy
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x. ice
LUTHOR MANOR is not a manor at all, but the Luthors love to be dramatic. Lena openesthe windows because the cottage smells like dust since the place was empthy the last, what, five years? Last time Lena have been here she was a teen and this was her getaway from boarding school (and Lex's drama).
“Okay,” Lena's voice comes muffling from next room and Kara stops what she's doing to go see. She finds Lena head inside the fireplace.
“Lena?” Madra's ears perks, but doesn't move from where he is, near Lena. Always near Lena.
“Kara, hey, the fireplace needs cleaning,” she says, head still in the fireplace. “Do you think you can-”
Kara's already on the roof and back before Lena can finish.
“Yes, okay, good.” She claps her hands to clean them. “Once we start a fire this place will warm up in no time.”
“What can I do?”” Kara asks and waits and frowns. She knows that look.
“Start the fire, I'll bring the food.”
Food turns out to be bread and stew and chedar cheese and Kara's about to cry when Lena laughs and is that a Big Mac?
“When? How? Lena!” She grabs the burger, afraid that it will disappear. Madra takes a few steps towards her and Kara's not proud, she's not, but she snaps at him. “No!”
“Jesus, Kara,” Lena laughs, but goes to comfort the pup. “He's just a wee boy, no need to eat the head off of him.”
“I'm sorry,” she is. “I'm so sorry, Madra, but...burger.”
Lena laughs again and hides her face to Madra's fur, whispering sweet noghtings to his ear until his tail is up and wagging, then she's kissing him softly, making Kara's heart beat faster inside her chest.
“He can have some,” she says weakly because she doesn't want to share her precious burger, but Lena loves Madra and Kara loves Lena so...
“I didn't bought just one burger,” Lena's voice comes muffled, face still hidden in Madra's fur and Kara is, maybe, a little jealous. “I know how much you love food, but Kara, you need to do something with your obsession over burgers. Every other corner is a Burger King or a McDonald and you're behaving as if you haven't seen a burger in ages.”
She's mocking her. Lena is moching her, Kara can hear the smile in her words, but she pouts (even if Lena can't see her) and says, “What can I say? I'm just a simple American girl.”
“Yeah, a simple American girl from Krypton,” Lena mocks yet again, but Kara is more than glad to note that there is not a single hint of anger in her voice. The last few months were hard, especially to Lena, but it seems that they are finally moving forward.
Much, much later, the sun is long gone and the fireplace warms and lights the room, Kara thinks that perhaps she shouldn't had that sixth burger because she feels heavy and lazy and nostalgic. This is nice, being with Lena alone in a cottage in the middle of nowhere in Ireland is nice, but she misses Alex and her apartment.
She miss flying.
Saving people.
(This is a dream and dreams don't last forever.)
“Do you think I should grow my bangs?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, you don't even think of it.”
“Kara,” Lena says from the opposite corner of the couch, “People change their hair when they want to make a change in their lives and after the year you had I don't blame you.”
“What 'bout you?”
Silence. Then, “I'm leaning towards a mohawk.”
“Don't you dare!”
They both laugh and after a while they fell in a comfortable silence, enough that food drunk Kara starts to doze off when she hears Lena stand up, almost falls asleep again when the sound of a bottle opening and the smell of whiskey hits her nose and sleep is the last thing on her mind.
“Lena,” she's alert now, more alert that she's been in the fight with Leviathans, ready to fight whatever demons torture Lena.
Lena pours two fingers of whiskey in a glass full with ice (Kara has seen Lena drink enough times to know that her friend likes her whiskey straight), “I'm grand, Kara. I'm in a good place.”
Kara swallows hard; she's worried as hell, but she also has to start trust Lena. Lena is a Luthor and Luthors, like it or not, like their secrets. Kara had as a hard time to accept that as Lena had a hard time to accept that her best friend is Supergirl. Lena takes a sip, walks back to the couch, looks her spot and then sits next to Kara.
She sits right next to Kara.
She sits so close to Kara that her thighs touch.
“You don't have to worry about me.”
Kara, who has come to hate the smell of whiskey on Lena's breath, shakes her head. Not worrying about Lena? Imposible.
“My father was an alcoholic,” Lena confess looking at the fireplace, avoiding Kara's eyes and Kara lets her. “He could be a violent drunk and he could be a lovely drunk, and after a while we learned – Lex and I- which drunk we would face.”
Kara stares at her, the need to hug Lena and never let her go stronger than ever, but she can hear the steady beat of her heart and knows that Lena don't need to be saved, not today. Today she's her own heroine.
“I really love the taste of whiskey,” she looks at Kara and nods in emphasis. “And I admit that I sometimes...most of the times, I abuse it instead of use it, especially the months after, you know.”
Yes, Kara does know. “You scared me.”
“I know,” she says soft enough that if Kara didn't had powers she wouldn't hear her. Lena takes a big breath, exhales. “Okay, since you're awake now and I'm bored, how about a game of chess?”
“How about no? I've seen your trophies, nuh uh.”
“And I've seen the Fortress of Solitude, Kryptonian, don't play dump with me.”
And that's how Kara ends up opposite side of Lena taking whites.
“You're blonde, I'm brunette, you play whites.” Lena commands and Kara obeays.
It takes Kara five minutes to make a move and somehow Lena manages to keep a straight face while she waits. Five minutes and three seconds later is Kara's turn again.
“You're overthinking it,” Lena accuse.
“You're like a grandmaster that can see five moves ahead, sorry if I want to think my moves first.”
Lena laughs and takes a sip from her watered down whiskey.
“You're cruel, Luthor, making fun of me.”
“Stop whinning, Kryptonian, and make a damn move.”
Thirty minutes later, Kara asks, “In how many moves do I lose?”
And Lena answers, “Ten if you move your knight, twelve if you take my rook with your bishop.”
“Well, shoot,” Kara bites her lip. “If only Lex and Clark played a game then maybe we would had avoid so much drama.”
Lena laughs again, deep and rich, and Kara loves that sounds.
She loves it!
“I'm a mess, Kara,” Lena says when she sobers. “I have so many issues I need to work through, but I really want to kiss you.”
“Oh.”
“I know it's not fair. I know. I took you away from your friends and fam-”
Kara doesn't let her finish.
In the blink of an eye she's there, inches away from Lena, and she hopes she didn't scare Lena, but all thoughts are gone because Lena is kissing her and she just melts into the kiss. They kiss until Lena gasps for breath, lips wet and a little swollen, cheeks red and eyes dark with hunger.
“Your move, Kryptonian.”
#supercorptober2020#supercorp#lena luthor#kara danvers#madra the wee dog#unbeta'd#I was homeless for a while and without internet access#but now I'm back#and I'll finish the prompts#no matter how late I am#tw: drinking#tw: alcholism
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notable moments from The Future Job
leverage 2.13
Nate: Yeah, belief perseverance. People cling even tighter to their beliefs after they've been shown evidence contradicting them.
🥰 psych terms 🥰
- - - - -
Nate: All right, don't worry. This guy, Rand, is gonna pay. We're gonna make sure of that.
Ryan: I'm not here asking for money, Mr. Ford. I just want my sister back.
another noble client 😌
- - - - -
Parker: So this is where he shoots his show, huh? Surrounded by warehouses and storage lockers?
Nate: Well, it's, uh, local cable access. He's, uh, self financing. They're probably trying to score a bigger payday. Network or something.
[Interior Van]
Hardison: Yeah, you're right about that. I've hacked Rand's website, stole his passwords and used 'em to access his e-mail. You know, this man has his computer hooked up to the city's free Wi-Fi? My nana could hack this thing.
- - - - -
Woman (to Parker): Who are you hoping comes through today?
Parker: Nothing. What, uh, nobody. I don't wanna talk to anybody.
Nate: What's wrong?
Parker: I just don't like psychics, OK? They freak me out.
Nate: OK, just relax. All right? We're just here to see what tricks Rand has up his sleeve. That's all. Just..
- - - - -
Tara: What is that smell?
Hardison: What smell? I just washed this thing. You could eat off the floor.
Tara: No, there's a smell.
someone make a compilation of people disrespecting the van and hardison Not Having It™
- - - - -
Rand: It's, uh, It's not a gecko. You've shut yourself off to the energies that are around us. But, your friend here, she's a little more receptive.
(Parker fidgets)
Rand: In fact, I think I'm getting an energy right now. It's definitely family. Is it your father? No. No, it's a sibling. Brother.
(Parker looks down)
Rand: You were both very young. It was an accident. I see a road. I see a car. But your brother's not in the car. He's in the street. Wheels. I see wheels. A skateboard. No, a bicycle. Was he riding a bicycle when he was struck? He's been gone a long time from you now.
(Parker tries not to cry)
Rand: He's sorry that he had to leave you. He knows that you feel responsible, but he wants you to know it was an accident. You taught him to ride that bike, didn't you?
(Parker runs out of the studio)
Rand: That's all right. Sometimes people aren't ready to hear what the spirits have to say.
(Nate gets up and follows Parker out)
[Interior Van]
Tara: Damn.
Hardison: Damn.
Tara: He is good.
Hardison: He should be shot
this is heartbreaking but also see how hardison IMMEDIATELY wants to hurt the guy because NOBODY has the right to hurt parker like that. he cares about her so deeply, your honor
- - - - -
[Leverage HQ]
(Parker is sitting on the floor near the couch when the others walk in)
Nate: Parker?
Parker: There's no way he coulda known that stuff. I've never told anyone. No one. Ever.
this scene made my heart HURT
+
Nate: But, Parker, he didn't know anything.
Parker: No, Nate. You said we'd find a trick up his sleeve. You said we'd find a trick. Well, we didn't find a trick, did we? He knew things. He's really psychic.
Eliot: He's not a psychic, Parker. He's just a con man.
Nate: He just did a cold read on you. That's all.
Tara: He asked questions and used your answers to guide him.
Parker: But I didn't say anything (her voice cracks)
Nate: You didn't have to. Can I show you something?
(Hardison pulls up a feed of the show on the monitors)
Nate: Right, right there. Do you remember when he asked you, "Is this energy that I'm getting, does it have anything to do with your father?" Do you remember? Well, you furrowed your eyebrow. You might as well have told him, "No."
Tara: And then, when he keyed in on your brother, right here. Your eyes widened just slightly. He knew he was on the right track.
Hardison: Then he just guessed, Parker. He got a hit when he said that you were both very young and he just went with the odds. An accident of some kind.
Parker: But he knew about the bicycle.
Nate: No, he didn't. 'Cause what happened was he said "wheels," and then he moved on. He said "skateboard." You told him about the bicycle.
Parker: No, I didn't say anything.
Nate: You had a certain tell, Parker. Your mouth opened just a little bit. Enough for him to register your surprise. Then, well, he just guessed.
Tara: He used all these things during the reading. How your breathing changed, if your shoulders were raised or slouched, how you were holding your hands, if your, if your lips were pursed.
Parker: What about the other people? He knew names and relationships.
Nate: Yeah, the hot read. What he does is he researches before the show, gets himself armed with as much information as possible to help him with the readings. It's not really that much different than what we do.
Parker: But he doesn't know who's gonna be in the audience ahead of time.
Nate: Well, no. No, he doesn't. He doesn't know until they're there.
WHEN HER VOICE CRACKED I LOST IT
“but he knew about the bicycle” HER VULNERABLE SAD VOICE
- - - - -
Tara: So what do we do now?
Parker: Cut off his arms. And his head. Yeah. I wanna kill him. Can we make that happen?
Eliot: Yeah. I can... I mean, I could...
okay but THIS SCENE
IT HAS MY WHOLE (WHOLE) HEART
eliot, who has SWORN OFF killing, sees parker in such distress and hurt that he offers to bring back that part of his past for her.
he knows she’d never ask that of him, though, which is partially one of the reasons he felt comfortable offering. she would never abuse his past like that, even with how hurt she was and some part of him knows that when he speaks
he’d do anything for her because he loves her, even in season two. send tweet.
- - - - -
Rand: You wanna know what the trick is?
Wilson: Yeah.
Rand: It's confidence. You believe what you're saying and they'll believe it, too. Doesn't matter how many misses, 'cause it's the hits that they'll remember.
- - - - -
Tara: Two years ago, I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. The doctors removed it, but ever since, I guess you could say I was twice blessed. With renewed life, and with this gift.
Rand: You're serious.
(Tara takes his hand and guides it to the back of her head)
Tara: Feel the scar?
Rand: All right, then. Tell me something that only the spirits would know. Tell me about my father. How he died.
[Interior Van]
Hardison: Don't worry. I got you, girl.
Eliot: Wait a minute, we didn't give her that scar, did we?
Nate: No. We did not
tara has SO MUCH undiscussed backstory that I desperately want to know
- - - - -
(Rand takes his arms off the table and shakes them, surprised)
Tara: What's wrong?
Rand: I just felt something.
[Interior Van]
Hardison: Nate had me rig the table with a mild electrical current.
Eliot: You electrocuted him?
Hardison: Yes, I did. It helped sell the bit.
Parker: I approve.
Hardison: Thanks, Parker.
Eliot: No. Her agreein' with you is not a good thing.
Nate: (at Parker) Thanks
eliot when parker suggests something sketchy/morally grey: eh, whatever, I’ll stop her if she goes too far but it’s just who she is
eliot when nate does the Exact Same Thing™: NOPE. GET OUT OF HERE WITH THOSE HORRIFIC IDEAS. BAD NATE. *sprays him with water*
- - - - -
eliot laughing as he tows the car LMFAO RETRIBUTION IS A BITCH
+ hardison with the fortune cookies and the bandana (bonus if parker saved them to eat for breakfast)
+ nate smiling as he almost hits rand with his car
- - - - -
Nate: OK, you ready?
Hardison: You do realize what you're asking me to do is impossible, right?
Nate (hands him orange soda): Here ya go.
Hardison: And my gummy frogs. I need my gummy frogs.
Nate: You serious?
Hardison: Yeah.
(Nate goes and gets the gummy frogs and throws them to Hardison)
GIVE HIM HIS ORANGE SODA AND GUMMY FROGS. HE NEEDS THEM TO WORK!!!
also I LOVE how there is apparently a DRAWER of them in nate’s kitchen
- - - - -
tara squared up to fight too, even ready to brawl without eliot because she’s a BADASS
- - - - -
Tara: Her husband. She thinks he's cheating on her.
Hardison: How'd you know that? All I said was she hired a private investigator.
Eliot: Married woman in her 40s? She's not looking for the Maltese Falcon
maltese falcon? foreshadowing anyone???
- - - - -
Parker: So, what, Kusen has a secret and he's gonna kill Rand so he doesn't reveal it? That'd be good.
Eliot: No, you wanna kill someone you don't get out and throw 'em in a van. You don't get out of your seat
- - - - -
also this is like the third (?) episode in a row where eliot has lil braids in his hair, it’s adorable but I wonder if it’s significant ???
+ parker changed and now she’s wearing a pretty blue flannel
- - - - -
also apparently to get a paper seem old you crumple it a LOT and then sandpaper it??? (according to parker in this episode)
- - - - -
(Down the aisle, Hardison, Eliot and Parker round a corner moving boxes toward a storage unit)
Hardison: We need more boxes.
Parker: And a lot of luck.
Eliot: Yeah, well, I think we used all our luck on finding this place.
Hardison: Wait, hold, hold...
(Hardison tapes something to the back wall of the unit as the others move boxes)
Hardison: You know what? It ain't luck, OK? Finding the perfect place to end the treasure hunt is a testimony to my intellectual prowess.
(Eliot drops a box on Hardison’s foot)
Hardison: Ow. (Parker laughs)
Eliot: What? It's baby clothes.
Hardison: It says "books," man.
Eliot: Does it?
chaotic ot3
- - - - -
eliot next to parker with his head resting on his arm is v cute
- - - - -
the whole fam was there to gloat vengefully with parker and I love that for her
- - - - -
Tara: They do make a cute pair, don't they?
Nate: Let's see, we got, uh, we got assault, kidnapping and burglary for our friend, Kusen, and garden variety fraud for our psychic friend, Dalton Rand. Any way we can get them in the same prison?
Hardison: That could be arranged
PUT THEM IN THE SAME PRISON
- - - - -
Jodie: A part of me knew it wasn't real, but I didn't care. I missed Mike so much. I wanted to see him again so bad.
Nate: You will see him again. Maybe it'll be a look. (looks at Jodie’s pregnant stomach) Maybe it'll be a gesture. Maybe it'll be the way he spreads peanut butter on a slice of bread. But when you see it, you'll know and you'll say, "That's Mike." And you know what? That's a miracle no one could ever sell you.
Jodie: Thank you, Mr. Ford.
(Jody and Ryan get up and head for the door)
Tara: (eyes watering) Now I see why you do it.
- - - - -
(Parker stops Jody and Ryan before they leave)
Parker: Before you go, this is for your sister and the baby.
Ryan (looks in envelope): What is this?
Parker: It's the money Rand took from your sister. All of it.
Ryan: I don't know what to say.
(Ryan hugs Parker who reluctantly hugs him back before they leave. Parker sits down at the bar with Hardison and Eliot)
Eliot: Wait a sec. I thought you said all of Rand's money went into paying for his show. I thought you said he was broke.
Hardison: It did. He was.
Eliot: Where'd the money come from? Did you guys find the stolen money? Hmm? Did you find Kusen's loot?
(Parker and Hardison just look at Eliot)
Eliot: Without... Unbelievable. Hmm? (walks away)
Parker: He who looks for hidden money shall find it, if he is also a thief.
(Parker and Hardison clasp hands)
there are so many things about this I want to talk about:
1. parker showing emotion and vulnerability talking to ryan and being startled and uncomfortable when the hug starts but slowly relaxing into it a little bit
2. eliot’s MAJOR fomo with parker and hardison,,, it’s adorable. poor baby
3. THEIR HAND CLASP YOUR HONOR
- - - - -
eliot is wearing a flannel in the final scene
also, you know how you can tell so many of the team is lgbt (parker, hardison, eliot)?
THE F L A N N E L S
THE P L A I D
as a bisexual I can #confirm there is way too much to be a coincidence it’s a Science™ I promise
#leverage 2.13#leverage 2x13#the future job#leverage#leverage season 2#season 2#notable moments#mine
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MORE CUTE SCENES OF FLORENCE AND THE FAM PLS 🥺🥺
Everyone loves a lil protective Daniel around his girls x
Clementine
Valentines Day always came around once a year to rub it in parents’ faces that they weren’t as sappy and crazy love-drunk as they once were; too caught up by real-life problems to bother even making time to participate in society’s made up holiday. But even if they agreed on skipping it year after year, Daniel always brought home a bouquet of red roses for his wife and three long stemmed roses for his daughters, one each. His four Valentines.
Daniel struggled to open the apartment door as he held his bag over his arm and the fifteen flowers in his other hand, eventually nearly falling inside at 4:30pm. There were excited screams from the living room as his daughters came running to greet him like almost every day after work and he closed the door behind him and bent down to kiss them each.
Daniel set his bag down to give him room to bend down in front of the three girls and took the first single rose from the bunch and offered it to Clementine.
The seven-year-old grinned, taking it from him and gave him a kiss, “Thank you, Daddy.”
Penelope was next, carefully taking her single rose from him with blushing cheeks and she broke into a dimpled grin, copying her older sister as they smelt the fresh cut flowers.
Lucy was third, the eighteen-month-old reaching eagerly to the rose he held out to her. Daniel was thankful he had the florist cut off the thorns as the girls held the stems tightly with their excitement.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, my little ladies.” Daniel smiled, pulling them all into a hug and pressed kisses over their heads.
Florence appeared in the hallway, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail as she had been making dinner, and she smiled at the sweet scene in the foyer.
“Daddy bought us flowers!” Penelope grinned up at her mother, her arm still snug around Daniel’s shoulders.
“I see that! How lucky of you.” Florence chuckled. “Let’s get washed up for dinner, alright?”
The oldest two girls went running off to the bathroom to wash their hands, the youngest toddling after them with her rose waving around in her hands. Daniel stood up from the ground and swooped right in to kiss his wife, sliding an arm around her waist as he held the bouquet of roses between them.
“Couldn’t forget my forever Valentine.” he whispered as her arms draped around his shoulders.
Florence grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips, and they shared soft ‘I love you’s before making their way into the living room. Florence unwrapped the flowers and tucked them in a vase with water on the kitchen counter before finishing up tending to the dinner.
The girls came back out and he got them settled at the dining room table as Penelope talked about her class party they had in her kindergarten class that day and all the crafts they made. Florence brought over the plates as Daniel buckled Lucy in her highchair and they all sat down to eat.
“I had a party too!” Clementine added when her sister was finished. “My boyfriend made me a special Valentine’s card.”
Daniel choked on his water, nearly spitting it back in the glass at his shock, “Boyfriend?”
“Yeah, Daddy! His name is Christopher and he asked me to be his girlfriend at recess yesterday!” Clementine grinned as if it was the best news ever.
Florence kept her smile to herself behind a bite of her dinner, watching Daniel’s nearly grief-stricken face and saucer wide eyes.
Daniel tried to speak as calmly as he could, “Clemmy girl…sweetheart…angel, you’re only seven, you shouldn’t have a boyfriend.”
“It’s okay, Daddy. He’s really nice. He made me a card today and we might hold hands tomorrow.”
“Oh my gosh.” Daniel shut his eyes tightly for a second. “No. Do not let him touch you, okay? Boys are yucky. The only boy who you are allowed to love is me.”
“What about Uncle Callum?”
“Sometimes.”
“And Uncle Christian and Uncle Tyler?”
“Sometimes.”
“And Jack?”
“Sometimes.”
“And Christopher?”
“Some-No.” Daniel glared at his daughter’s cheeky grin. “No boyfriends, okay? Not until you’re a grown up.”
“Buy why?! Mommy!” Clementine turned to Florence with pleading eyes.
Florence looked between her daughter and her husband, both of them staring at her expectantly.
“I’m not getting involved in your conversation.” Florence mumbled lightly.
“Flora.” Daniel gaped. “Are you hearing this?”
“Go get your card, baby.” Florence said sweetly to her eldest who proudly ran off to her backpack.
“You’re my boyfriend, Daddy.” Penelope whispered, smiling her dimpled grin in his direction.
“God bless your heart, bug. I love you.” Daniel whispered, petting her hair and squishing her cheek a little.
Clementine came rushing back over with her homemade Valentines card in hand, glitter sprinkling onto the table as she thrust it into her mother’s hands. She stood eagerly between her parents at the corner of the table, hands curling around the wood as she watched her mother read the card, a small smile on her face.
“It’s very sweet, Clemmy.” Florence said, holding it out to Daniel, mouthing a ‘be nice’ as he grabbed it from her. He set his fork down and stared at the glitter heart on the front and the messy stickers all around it before opening it up. It was obviously done by a first grader but Daniel frowned, handing it back to his eldest without a word.
“Isn’t it nice, Daddy?” Clementine asked, grabbing his arm with one hand.
Daniel clenched his jaw a moment, staring down at the seven-year-old giving him those puppy eyes she had perfected since she was a baby and he melted, “Yes, angel. It’s very nice.”
Clementine grinned at him and rushed back off to tuck it safely in her backpack.
Daniel mumbled, “He didn’t even spell her name right.”
Florence smacked his arm through a soft laugh, “She’s in grade one, even she can barely spell her own name right.”
Penelope
Daniel parked the car on one of the side streets outside the movie theatre downtown, waiting to pick up Penelope from her night out with her friends. She was just barely 15 and still too hesitant about taking the subway alone at night but her slightly overcautious parents were more than fine to pick her up and drop her off wherever she needed to be instead. Florence had dropped her off just before dinner time and she was gone all evening, texting Daniel that she was ready to be picked up around 9. He found himself waiting there in his car until 9:15 when he finally saw Penelope rounding the corner a bit of a ways away. He kept an eye on her to make sure she was safe on her small walk from the building to his car in the dark city but he frowned when she stopped in place and turned to a boy standing behind her.
The way they were talking made it appear that they knew each other but Daniel kept a hand on the door handle just in case. He watched with narrowed eyes as the guy pulled Penelope into a hug and she curled into him for a moment before he was taking her face in his hands and kissing her. Daniel sat frozen in shock, staring wide-eyed as the teenagers said their goodbyes. Penelope was the daughter who seemed to steer clear of boys the longest and suddenly Daniel was slapped in the face by this change in his shiest girl. He tried to straighten himself up and took a few breaths the best he could as Penelope rushed over to the car.
“Hey, Daddy.” she whispered as she climbed into the passenger side, her voice shaking a little.
“Hi, bug.” Daniel breathed, his hesitation mirroring hers.
They fell into silence for a moment, both staring in opposite directions. Penelope twisted the material of her sweater on her lap anxiously, biting hard on her bottom lip as she stared out the window, Daniel clutching hard onto the steering wheel with the car still in park and his eyes focussed straight ahead, still in shock.
“Dad.” Penelope finally broke their silence and looked over at him.
Daniel met her eyes, the blue shimmering with tears, and he set a hand on her cheek, “Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know!” she cried suddenly, hiding her face in her sweater to try and muffle her sobs.
“It’s okay.” Daniel wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her as close as possible over the centre console of the car. He pressed a kiss to her head.
“H-he kissed me and...and I wasn’t ready for it and I don’t...I don’t know how I feel about it! I’m scared!”
“Oh my gosh, bug. No need to be scared.” Daniel said softly. “It’s nothing to be scared about, your first kiss is always going to be awkward and awful and uncomfortable but now you got it out of the way. However, he should have asked your permission first.”
“Are you mad at me?” Penelope sniffled.
“Oh, Penny girl, no. Why would I be mad at you?” Daniel sat back a little to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“Because I just got k-kissed by a boy.” Penelope sobbed, curling into his chest.
“I’m not mad, bug. I promise.” Daniel chuckled, petting her hair softly. “I’m a little surprised that it happened so quick but you’re 15 so boys were bound to come into the picture soon.”
“No one has ever liked me before.” Penelope sniffled.
“That, or you’ve just never noticed. Maybe you’re just like me.” Daniel sighed, resting his head on hers. “You’re just my late-bloomer, nothing wrong with that. Stay young as long as you can, okay?”
Penelope nodded and sat up straight in her seat, wiping her eyes with the heels of her palms and took a shaking breath.
“Would an ice cream stop on the way home help you feel better?” Daniel asked.
“Yes please.” Penelope nodded through her pout.
The ice cream was also sort of for Daniel too as he focussed his heavy heart into his pint of vanilla, watching his second daughter eat quietly across from him with her eyes red from crying and mouth coated in chocolate. She still was the same four year old she once was in his eyes and he wished he could keep her that young forever.
Lucy
Florence knew the moment Lucy brought a boy into her car after school that it wasn’t going to end well. The youngest daughter was only nine and a half, eager to bring home a friend from school; a friend who happened to be a boy. Florence had absolutely no problem with her nine-year-old having male friends, she actually encouraged it, but she knew her husband would have a different opinion, always a tad too protective of his daughters.
Lucy and her friend Marcus sat and chatted excitedly in the backseat, talking youthfully about their classes that day and other things, thirteen-year-old Penelope in the passenger seat. Florence kept glancing through the rear-view mirror at the two fourth graders as she drove towards the apartment building by the waterfront.
“Daddy’s gonna have a fit.” Penelope whispered to her mother.
“I know.” Florence mumbled, trying to bite back a smile. Penelope giggled quietly to herself and leaned against the window.
Of course, it was that day that Daniel had the afternoon off, meaning he was already home when they arrived, busying himself around the apartment as Clementine was sat at the dining room table doing her homework. His double take was unmatched as the fourth person coming into his living room was not a member of his family. Florence kissed him hello, whispering a gentle, ‘He’s a friend’ to her surprised husband. Daniel let her kiss him once more although his eyes were focussed past her and on his youngest daughter and her friend.
The young boy walked right up to Daniel and held out his hand, “Hi Mr. Seavey. I’m Marcus.”
Daniel could barely form words, taking the nine-year-old’s handshake with a wavering, “Nice to meet you, Marcus.”
“Daddy,” Lucy grabbed onto the side of his shirt and smiled up at him, “Can Marcus and I go play in my room?”
“No.” Daniel said quickly, composing himself with a, “You can play in the living room here, okay?”
“You can play in your room, Lucy Lu.” Florence spoke up. “I’ll call you two when the pizzas get here.”
“Thank you!” Lucy grinned and the two friends rushed down the hallway together.
“Someone needs to relax.” Clementine chuckled under her breath without looking up from her textbook.
“Who is that?” Daniel turned to them quickly.
“He’s her friend, Daddy, chill.” Penelope laughed, sitting herself at the table with her sister and pulled out her notebooks.
“We all know what starts as friends.” Daniel whispered sharply to Florence over the kitchen counter as she put away Lucy’s empty containers from her lunch bag.
“Oh my gosh, baby, she’s nine.” Florence chuckled. “You’re overthinking.”
Daniel leaned closer to her to keep his voice down so the other two girls wouldn’t hear, “I’ve seen the YouTube docs of girls being pregnant at ten. That’s only six months away, Flora! She could-“
“Daniel! Jesus!” Florence held her hands over her ears. “Stop that! You’re going crazy! She can’t even get pregnant yet, chill out.”
“She’s my baby, Flora.” Daniel pouted.
“Our baby, I know. But stop overthinking and just let her be a kid still.” Florence tisked, holding out her phone to him. “Now go make yourself useful and order dinner.”
Daniel kept himself quiet and collected during dinner, trying not to eye the boy beside his youngest too much from across the table. He couldn’t deny that the boy had some of the best manners Daniel had ever seen on a child – other than his own – and it made his paternal distaste hard to stick.
However, his calm only lasted so long, as the girls moved to the living room to watch a movie and Florence and Daniel stayed in the kitchen to tidy up dinner, and barely five minutes into the film, Marcus slid his hand into Lucy’s and they tucked their fingers around each other. Daniel never moved faster in his life, rushing into the living room and wiggling himself between the two nine-year-olds, pushing them apart.
“Okay! What are we watching!” Daniel asked loudly, slinging his arm over Lucy’s shoulders as she glared at him with annoyance. Penelope and Clementine shook their heads with disbelief at their father’s overprotective tendencies, and Florence could only roll her eyes from the kitchen.
#daniel seavey#daniel seavey imagines#daniel seavey one shots#why dont we#wdw#why dont we imagines#wdw imagines#why dont we music#limelight#anything but mine
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Sooo I am the only one who watched the coming soon trailer for next episode maybe a 100 times already and it's going insane?
I'm going try to break it down a recap what we are seeing, but since the screenshots I have were taken on my phone, the quality is horrible, so sorry for that.
So soon at the beginning we see this fella (top) here, wearing that neck piece that represents the high council (I guess?) and I seen a lot of people saying it's Rassilon, but I don't think it is.
Next (bottom) we have the one and only Gat back (is great cause I personally think she's very hot) but that could mean that what we seeing are images from the past, most likely what The Master is showing the Doctor. Gat is accompanied by two Time Lords or just regular gallifreyans, I can't really tell
Next (top) we have the Master offering his hand to the Doctor and by the background, must be very early on the episode, as soon as he got himself in Ko Sharmus . We also have in the trailer a little more ahead The Doctor pleading for him to save her friends and she'll do whatever he wants, so maybe it's in this moment, since the trailer does not make that clear
Next (bottom) we have Gallifrey destroyed, nothing new here, very standard at this point
Now it gets interesting since we are now looking at The Doctor at Gallifrey (top), facing the destruction. Not a lot to analyze here, but it's going to be brutal watching her confronting her trauma like this
Next (bottom) on we have the Master, looking very pleased with himself and looking up. On the ground we can see gallifreyan and and off camera by his side we see The Doctor trapped in something, some sort of contraption which seems very interesting. By the looks of things there are still in Gallifrey.
Next (top) we can see a Cyberman ship, I can't really tell if is the same one that is carrying the Cyberarmy and Yaz and Graham cause I really didn't pay much attention to the ship design last episode, but it's probably the same one. They are most likely landing in Ko Sharmus.
Next (middle and bottom) we have another interesting shot of the Cyberarmy actually in action on the ground, and as we can see, that's Ryan on the corner so we are definitely in Ko Sharmus now and in the next shot we see Ryan looking at the same Cyberman very scared/shooketh
Now let's get to the shots that left me trembling and screaming into the void. Here we have my granddad Graham looking very worried and bruised?? Is that a bruise on his cheek? WHAT THE FUCK GUYS. YOU CAN NOT LEGALLY HURT GRAHAM, THAT'S FORBIDDEN, and he is talking with Yaz and MY BABY YASMIN KHAN HAS TEARS IN HER EYES? I AM SEEING THAT CORRECTLY CHIBS? DID YOU MAKE HER CRY AGAING? THAT'S ALSO ILLEGAL! STOP HURTING MY FAMILY 2020!
Next on we have the Master snapping his fingers in The Doctor's face (maybe a form to establish a telepathic connection?) And telling the Doctor to brace herself.
And the next shot is of the Master's eyes, probably having made the connection and showing the Doctor something? I have no idea.
Now this shit right here left so scared I can't even form words correctly. In this next shot (bottom left) we have the Doctor looking very scared/shooketh/ and we can see metal with something blue shining in the middle in front of her, so probably Cybermen?
Next (top) we have someone (WHO LOOKS VERY MUCH LIKE YAZ WOULDN'T YOU GUYS AGREE?) looking through something and crying. Here's where it get's tricky because I could swear she was trapped somewhere watching something happening to someone important to her (maybe she's watching Graham get that bruise?) BUT someone idiot had to plant the seed of paranoia in my brain and said that it looks very much like she's looking from the inside of a Cyberman AND WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? IT CAN NOT BE RIGHT???
Next (bottom right) we have the same shot of the Cyberidiots walking around like assholes and a gun pointing at them (Ryan or that old guy?)
Next on we have Ryan with a gun and that old guy with him entering somewhere that looks suspiciously a lot like where the Doctor and the Master where.
In the next shot we see the Cyberjerks shooting at my new crush, the hot girl with the hat *insirt here 'Quit playing games (with my heart) by Backstreet Boys* so R.I.P to my hot wife with the cute hat (thanks for that Chibs)
And in the last one we have The Master using a tiny guy (sorry but that's kinda hot?) And he seems to be in the same place where we just saw Ryan and the old lad (ohh look at me being British)
Okay, so next we have the Doctor and the Master standing somewhere (Desolation???? It kinda looks like it) not much to analyze here.
Next we have the Doctor yeeting herself at the Master ( ARE THEY GOING TO FIST FIGHT CAUSE FIRST OF ALL THAT'S HOT AND SECOND THAT'S WHAT I CALL SNAPING) and it look like she's had enough with his games. (Poor thirteen tho, she looks like she literally being dragged through hell)
And next we see The Doctor holding her head and screaming a la Jean Grey, and that poor baby is not really going to catch a break this episode huh. I JUST WANT TO WRAP HER IN A BLANKET, GIVE HER SOME ADVIL AND KEEP HER SAFE, IS THAT TO MUCH TO ASK? It looks like something is going wrong with the telepathy thing.
And last but not least we have another shot of the Cyberbutts looking like BITCHES as always
Next on we have Ryan screaming which filled me with fear and anxiety, cause he's screaming a NOOOOO so pained that it can only mean something is happening to either Yaz, Graham or the Doctor herself (my money is on Graham to warrent that reaction from Ryan, but worry not guys, I am halfway through selling my soul to keep my fam alive, safe and happy)
And in the last we have THOSE ASSHOLES AGAIN and that's it.
Soooo let's talk guys, tell what you think and let's theorize to survive until next Sunday.
By the way, if you guy wanna talk with my poor depressed soul, hit me up please, I would love to talk about the show with laterally anyone, since my cat is tired of hearing it.
#doctor who spoilers#doctor who series 12#thirteenth doctor#doctor who#doctor who trailer#thasmin#yasmin khan#ryan sinclair#graham o'brien#cute girl in a hat that I'm now mourning WE COULD'VE HAD ALLLL
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Don’t Go - (Turtle of Choice)
I apologize in advance for the sin I am about to commit and will take the full blame for this being one of my bad days last week without my tumblr Fam... Forgive me for this love you all so much *Blows kisses*
@bloody-dark-shells03 @lonelyheart-clubband @fyreball66 @betelgeusessonajblog @blossom-skies @midnightrebel669 @all of my wonderful beautiful followers who love these boys as much as I do
It was normal for her to hear the rapid knocking on her window this late at night even though he had promised he’d be there three hours ago and she had been more than happy to hurry to open it knowing just who was standing on the other side. In all the years they had been together he had never once been on time but then again that was part of his charm because she loved when he surprised her
Her heart was beating fast as she pushed the window open and stepped out of his way to let him in
He was abnormally quiet as he slipped through the window moving further into the room and she quickly shut the window and pulled the curtains so nobody could see inside “Your late - I was beginning to think you forgot about me” when she turned around she noticed he looked really beaten from behind meaning he must have had a hard night on patrol before noticing the blood dripping off his skin; so a really hard night
“Oh honey - you should have called I would have got your clothes ready before you got here” he still said nothing and she started to walk past him to her dryer where she kept a basket of his extra clothes for when he stayed over but instantly he had her pressed against the wall and was kissing her hard his mouth devouring hers as if it were their first time all over again his hands so gentle as he worshipped her body kissing her in a way she had never experienced
It left her breathless as he finally let her go watching her as she stumbled in a daze down the hallway grinning like a love sick school girl getting him a new set of clean clothes and the large towel she had went out of her way to find them that would go all the way around his hips without a problem going to let him use the shower to clean up “Come on-” when she turned around she realized he wasn’t behind her
Walking back down the hallway to see he had moved from where she had left him standing to her sunken in couch and just dropped into it without the slightest sound “I just cleaned that from… Hey-” it shouldn’t have taken her that long to realize something wasn’t right
He wasn’t acting like himself
“Baby?” her turtle no matter what when he came through the window was normally a little more affectionate and talkative not hearing him saying anything made her walk closer “Baby… Your scaring me” she could hear him breathing raggedly looking at him as she came closer
All at once she couldn’t breathe
He was laying there every inch of his upper body was splattered in the dark crimson of blood that looked to have been soaking his pants and was now soaking her cushions under him, he looked so tired his normally bright eyes dulled and distant looking right through her as he stared ahead, his vibrant green skin was paled and grayish in tint, then her eyes landed on where his arm was pressing against seeing fresh rivers of blood dripping down his sides
“O-Oh my god… Honey-?” she was instantly next to his side lifting his arm choking out a sob before she took the towel she was holding pressing it into the wound trying to stop the bleeding calling out his name trying to get him to look at her even as the light started to leave his eyes mumbling so fast her words becoming a jumbled mess as she tried to get him to talk to her “Hold on – you’re going to be okay please just hold on… I-I’ll call the guys”
She grabbed the radio he was wearing hitting the button calling out for his brothers knowing they all wore the radios or headsets so they could stay in contact during patrols hearing nothing before she tried again begging for any of them to answer her sobbing and screaming for anyone to answer as his hand came up grabbing her hand shaking his head slowly
“N-Nobody…they’re not - gonna sweetie…t-they’re gone-”his words only cut deeper as he struggled to speak making her shake her head shushing him – the others couldn’t be…
“No – No listen their on their way to help… I-I’m sure they are coming my love”
He never would have left his brothers if they were hurt or- it wasn’t true they couldn’t be gone
She lifted the towel looking at the wound another gasp ripping from her as she cried over him, this was bad he had to have been in so much pain on his way to her place whispering for him to hold still keeping him from getting up her lips pressing to his trying to keep him calm while doing her best to help
“Stay with me – I won’t let you go I promise” he smirked up at her as she nuzzled against him needing him to stay with her talking until he smiled soothing her to calm down moments before he shuttered his body starting to shut down right there in front of her as she pressed the towel over his wound harder “D-Don’t… you can’t give up on me now”
The turtles breathing was becoming shallow as he laid there looking at her like she was his world making her grab onto his hand shushing him softly when he tried to speak telling her how he screwed up and let her down which was immediately followed by her assuring him brokenly he could never let her down in a million years, pressing the palm of his massive hand over her heart making sure he was focused on something as she lifted his phone calling the first number that popped up in the call logs going down when nobody picked up until she reached Casey’s
“B-Baby… don’t go I need you-”
The phone rang forever until she hung up as the voicemail answered calling again sighing between sobs in utter relief when the man answered to her call and before he could say anything she was pleading him for help giving him her new address telling him her turtle was bleeding out needing help, he told her he was coming asking about the others but she couldn’t respond putting him on speaker pleading for him to hurry
“I love you – I love you please”
His smile was just as bright as always as he cupped her cheek in one bloodstained hand seeing tears starting to well up in his eyes as he forced out his words breathing in choked attempts to tell her what he needed her to hear in that moment blood dripping from his mouth as he started to leave her faster
She shook her head this wasn’t happening, not now not when they were at their happiest sobbing brokenly as he told her he loved her over and over that smirk causing more tears as she cradled him to her, in that moment her mind never comprehending Casey telling his friend to hold on that he was almost there
Suddenly his shaking hand dropped from her face hitting the floor, the smile fading fast as he went limp making her move forward letting up on the towel to grab onto him as his head dropped to the side falling to her chest
“No.. NONONO STAY WITH ME PLEASE! BABY! OH GOD… OPEN YOUR EYES DON’T LEAVE ME!” she nuzzled at his cold cheek kissing his face begging for him to hold on long after his chest stopped moving shaking her head as she tried to stir him “Casey! CASEY HURRY!”
No matter how loud she screamed the man never answered her
He was lifeless in her arms making him so much heavier but she still tried to hold him her heart shattering within her chest as she called his name over and over pleading for him to stay when she knew the truth
He was gone her world had just died in her arms
The pounding on her front door made her jump but she didn’t dare move not going to leave him alone telling him repeatedly she loved him crying for the loss of her friends, her family, for the loss of the only person that had truly understood her
Slowly she could have swore the banging on her door was getting louder and – she could almost hear his voice
That was when the room went dark feeling the cold around her as she finally felt herself breath in, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest as something cracked loudly forcing her to look over just as the frame gave the solid thud of wood meeting floor had the woman sitting up fast to see her door laying on the ground and-
He was there – her turtle was breathing hard standing in the broken door way looking confused and scared before she was off the bed hugging him tight sobbing into his hard chest as he told her it was okay lifting her face smiling down on her as she tried to speak but that was silenced by his lips over hers kissing her just like she remembered in her dream whispering against her lips as she finally looked up at him scared when she did she would see him hurt again
That he was really dead and this was her shattered mind trying to make her believe all was well
His lively eyes shone bright in the dark as he tried to soothe his frantic mate, his strong grasp so warm making her feel safe until she relaxed touching his face as he kissed her nose so adoringly nuzzling her as he saw the trembling in her limps holding her while listening to the frantic words telling him what she had saw before kissing her much softer to calm his love
“It was just a nightmare- I won’t let anything happen baby”
His underlined promise was one he couldn’t keep but sighed knowing if anything ever did happen there wasn’t anything he could do; they would face that moment together when they came to that unwanted bridge taking his hand kissing it softly when he petted her cheek pulling him to the bed making him lay down before she was at his side pulling him into a sweet kiss that slowly grew with her hunger trying to erase the horrible thought
Trying desperately to wipe away the image still haunting her
That night her comfort came from showing him she loved everything about him as he showed her every ounce of his affections, kissing and worshipping the turtle like he did to her until he chuckled pulling her down beside him telling her to rest cuddling her against his body, his soft words relaxed the woman until she fell into a deep slumber
He didn’t sleep keeping her in his arms protecting her from the darkness looming in her mind until the sun came up before lying back closing his eyes letting the tiredness take him to her dreams for just a bit longer before he would have to leave
But before he did he would wake his love with one last kiss
#teenage mutant ninja turtles#I will let you strangle me later#i'm so sorry#angst#tmnt leonardo#pain#tmnt raphael#Blood#tmnt donatello#so many tears#tmnt michelangelo#i am a horrible person#nightmare#love#comfort#tmnt 2014/2016
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This Time
Buck sat in silence looking out the fire engine window with his hands folded in his lap and his head leaned back against the square headrest of the seat as buildings whizzed by and the sirens above blared, letting those in their path know to get out of the way, heading to yet another emergency. Bumping in the seat as each turn and pot hole is hit at high speed. Eddie sitting ramrod straight, staring straight ahead face passive . No words being spoken between them. Another shift, another day, of the cold shoulder.
He’s seeing Christopher every chance he can get now. Not realizing how much he missed the little boy’s smell, crooked smile and admiring gaze until that first yell of “Buck” and arms thrown around him. Eddie disappearing as soon as he got to their place, while they played and watched movies. Even building a lego firehouse. A Christopher version of a lego firehouse. He was just relieved when Christopher asked him what he thought the creation was and he answered correctly and that smile he received in return that if a heart had the ability to cry would have burst into an ocean far surpassing that of the tsunami they survived in tears.
Shame though stayed behind coursing through him as the nervousness finally subsided but the shame stayed as his little boy babbled on and on about how much he missed him, sleepovers he’s going on now and school. It wasn’t until that shame slammed into his gut of distancing himself from Christopher that he realized that yes he is indeed his little boy. Just like he was Christopher’s Buck.
Shame about Eddie’s dirty little secret.
How could he not know about that?
It’s been forty-three days since Bobby told him he was being reinstated, thirty-two days since his first day back to the 118 and twenty-eight days since he found out about Eddie and the fight club.
It was by accident, of course. Eddie hadn’t spoken a word to him, even when Bobby in his stern “Remember, my house my rules” greeted him at the lockers with the rest of the crew. Then with a slight smirk and a hug with what Bobby would never admit to as misty, watery eyes and an “oh, kid. What am I going to do with you?” The hugs had come in procession. Eddie had just walked off.
As promised Bobby did make him regret it with scut work duty, for a week. The Captain has softened since becoming a step dad. And become more forgiving. Athena had stayed out of it until she saw him one shift, slapped the back of his head and then hugged him. “Talk to your family before being an idiot again.” Were her words to him, then promptly invited him to dinner that night. Bobby opening his mouth and snapping it shut with one glance from Athena. They spent dinner calmly talking. Bobby feeling betrayed. Buck telling him he didn’t know the lawyer was going to use any of that. He thought he was just talking. Telling both Bobby and Athena about the lawyer telling him he should take the millions offered to him instead of listening to him and saying he just wanted his job back. Athena was still coughing after the wine she had spit out at the mention of Buck turning down millions to return to the 118. The lawyer trying to convince him they would never take him back.
He had missed the look between Bobby and Athena, the first of many that night. Never heard her “manipulative bastard.” Buck had explained he felt Bobby had lost faith in him and the hurt at finding out he lied to him instead of just telling him from the beginning that day in the hospital. About how it hurt to have the first man he felt had a positive influence on him, actually believe in him, lie to him was his breaking point. He might of even ended up telling him about his own father well after dinner was over. Athena slipping away to bed with tearful eyes. A kiss in the lips for Bobby, a kiss in the cheek for Buck as the two men kept talking. He had ended up spending the night at Bobby’s insistence, taking the guest room. Things had been different since then between the two. Yes, Bobby was still The Captain but if he treated Buck just a tiny bit different, gave him a bit more praise, nobody said anything. The fire fam had forgiven him. Christopher had forgiven him.
But not Eddie. And not himself.
So, of course Eddie wouldn’t tell him something like being in an illegal fight club as he threw down with strangers every night. It was when Buck got a phone call in the middle of the night from Carla. Christopher had spiked a fever and she couldn’t reach Eddie.
Buck had driven straight over, not taking any chances and with the help of Carla; saying fuck 911 drove him to the ER himself. Where he stayed with him, surprised to find out he was listed as a guardian in case of emergencies in Carla’s medical file on Christopher she keeps up to date. Maybe even intimidating a resident, ignoring flirting nurses and demanding a damn real doctor not some physician assistant.
Eddie had not been able to be reached all night.
Buck finally drove them home around 4a.m. after the doctor cleared him of any urgent medical conditions. It was just the simple flu. He didn’t care what it was. His boy was sick, that was urgent enough. Carla stayed in the car with a sleeping Christopher as Buck found a twenty-four hour pharmacy, waited then paid for the medication the doctor prescribed with instructions to call his pediatrician as soon as they opened if he got worse during the rest of the night. He had everything done to Christopher that night printed out on the spot to add to Carla’s records.
A frantic Eddie had stormed out of the house as soon as the headlights of Buck’s car entered the driveway. Ignoring Buck, Eddie picked up his son and walked into the house. In the rush to get to the Emergency Room Carla had forgotten her phone and hell would freeze over before he called Buck. They never spoke of it. Buck ended up calling Carla to see how Christopher was feeling and even stopping by after his shift to check in his boy. Maybe the oversized Teddy Bear he took him may have been too much but screw it, he owed the kid a teddy bear.
He owed the kid the world.
He even took him to Build-a-Bear as soon as he was cleared by his doctor to go out. Christopher just might have ended up making a bear dressed as a firefighter. Memories of him on the pier saying he wants to be a firefighter when he grows up went through Buck’s mind as Christopher proudly showed it to him. Knowing now what he should have known then, he would raise hell to get that kid on the LAFD, even as a Fire Marshall.
It was not being able to reach Eddie that made him curious, his gut telling him he needed to know. He may act on his emotions and impulsive at times but his gut instinct he always followed. So, on a night when Christopher was at his friend’s house for a sleep over Buck tailed Eddie home at a distance. Not like he didn’t know where the guy lived. He followed a bit closer as he came out of the house, got off the interstate onto some old dirt roads and came to a makeshift lot of disarray parked cars. Getting out he smelled the smoke before seeing the barrel fires lighting up the night sky. Old tires stacked up to make a circle. No, a ring. That had two men beating the living shit out each other in the middle of it. People crowded around, cheering them on as blood splattered onto the ground.
Then he heard the name Diaz being called. A shirtless Eddie stepping up to face another man. He was both disgusted and impressed with Eddie’s fighting capability.
He edged closer to the ring, making sure to stay hidden so Eddie couldn’t spot him, but he could get a better look at him. That’s when he saw it. Eddie’s eyes. The anger. The rage. The emotionless death in them.
Oh, Eddie. What are you doing and what have I done?
That was twenty-eight nights ago. He followed him every night, watching, praying to a God he wasn’t sure existed. His cell phone on in case of an emergency Carla might have with Christopher since his father was too busy being the idiot that only thought about himself he accused him of being in a grocery store forty-five days ago. According to Carla when asked it was around that time frame Eddie started paying her for extra night hours unless Christopher was at a sleep over. Which he was having more and more of.
Buck may not be on Eddie’s talking list but Eddie was on Buck’s watching over list. Every night, just to make sure nothing happened so Christopher wouldn’t lose a father along with a mother. Screw it. Who was he kidding? He felt the shame, the guilt. He wanted his team back so he fought for them but ended up losing a family he didn’t realize he had until it was too late.
Evan “The Ladies Man” Buckley is in love with Edmundo Diaz and it was staring him right in his blind as fuck face. Christopher right there tied with his daddy. He’d die for both of them and he went through hell every night watching Eddie taking his anger out with his fists. Wanting to but unable to run into that ring and yell stop this Eddie.
But the dead eyes as punch after punch kept him from doing so.
Arriving on scene of the accident, Bobby quickly gave out orders as they went to work. Eddie with the jaws of life and an I don’t need your help.
“Eddie, Buck’s on the jaws as you lift the car roof so Hen and Chimney can get to the little boy.”
It turned out the father ran a red light and the back where the little boy sat got slammed. As Hen and Chimney worked on the little boy Eddie went off on the father, Bobby and two rookie police officers holding him back as Athena put him in the back seat of her squad car. Unfortunately, the other driver didn’t see the car to stop in time, hitting them head on. They died on impact, the windshield slicing their throat as they flew through it, a teenage girl not wearing their seatbelt and texting.
Bobby telling Eddie to meet him in the office when they get back to the firehouse as they loaded the truck back up. Hen shaking her head at Bobby, signaling the boy didn’t make it. Eddie slamming his hand against the fire engine as they covered him with a sheet.
Buck could see the fire simmering in his eyes even though his face remained passive and blank on the ride back. Closing his eyes as he once again realized how much he missed Eddie’s smell. The smell of comfort, safety. Home.
As soon as they were back at the house, while the fire engine was backing into its spot, Eddie was opening the door and jumping out. As soon as the engine was cut Bobby followed calling after him.
Eddie kept ignoring him, pacing.
Taking a leap of faith and frankly tired of this shit, Buck walked up to him. Placing his hand on Eddie’s shoulder before the words are you okay could leave Buck’s mouth he found himself with a right hook square to the jaw. Fists flying at his face, chest, stomach as echoes of Bobby’s, Hen’s and Chimney’s shouts can be heard along with the sound of pounding footsteps and flesh.
Buck didn’t deflect one shot. All it took was one look into Eddie’s eyes. The emotionless dead eyes of the rage infected street fighter.
“It’s okay.” Buck kept saying as punches were landed. “It’s okay” as hands wrapped around his throat. “Eddie, It’s me, it’s okay” as he found himself flat on his back, slammed to the floor. “I’m me, it’s okay” Eddie straddling him after pushing Bobby off his back trying to get him off Buck.
“Eddie, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s Buck. It’s okay.”
He could hear Bobby yelling Eddie’s name.
“Eddie, it’s okay. It’s me. I love you. It’s okay.”
Suddenly, the punches stopped and a loud sob was heard. Buck picked his bloody body up from the floor, shaking his head no at Bobby and his team.
Kneeling in front of Eddie he caressed his cheek with the palm of his hand.
“It’s okay, baby. Let it out.” Bloody tears from the cuts on his face streamed down his own cheeks as he wrapped Eddie in his arms, lightly kissing his lips. “It’s okay. I’m here. I love you. I’m here. It’s okay.”
“No! You left me!” Eddie sobbed, burying his face into Bucks chest, wrapping his own arms around him.
“I’m here now.”
“Buck.”
“Not now Bobby.”
“We need to get you checked out and Eddie…”
“Eddie, needs help and you need to write me up.”
“Buck….” Bobby had his stern Captain voice starting. Hen and Chimney hung back, unsure of what to do.
“I fell disobeying a direct order from you.” Buck sat rocking Eddie, stroking his back. With a kiss to the top of his head he looked directly at Bobby, telling him he’d get the full story later with his eyes. “Eddie needs us and this time we’re doing it the right way, as a family.”
Nodding his head, Bobby gently placed his hand on Buck’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly before standing. “I’ll get a non-department trauma therapist on the phone. At least let Hen look at you, please. There’s a lot of blood and your head is still bleeding.” A sigh. “I thought it was you being impulsive in the field I had to worry about.”
“Eddie needs looked at, too.” Taking a bloody hand in his, Buck brought it up to his lips kissing it.
“It’s okay. I love you. I’m here and I’m never leaving you again.”
Hen sat beside Buck, giving him a small smile as she gently patted at the cuts on his face. Placing a pressure bandage on his forehead.
Chimney sat quietly, glancing at Buck every now and then as he cleaned Eddie’s hands, his head rested against Buck’s chest.
Buck let out an accidental hiss and Eddie whimpered, burying his face back into Buck as Hen hit a particularly open wound.
The wounds were raw and deep but they would heal. It may be slow and take time.
But they would heal the right way.
This time Buck would make sure of it.
#make buddie happen#buddie#911 on fox#911fox#fox 911#911 spoilers#9 1 1#evan buckley#eddie diaz#eddie x buck#buck x eddie
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Children (4 of 4) | Michael Gray
[Photo by Pixabay from Pexels]
✏️ Pairing: Michael Gray x wife!reader
✏️ Summary: Michael is back from the war, but is he really? Life is still difficult and the Gray family is falling apart under Y/N’s helpless gaze. (Requested by @duckydae)
✏️ A/N: wow, I reached a new level of angst. @kind-wolf will not be happy haha
✏️ A/N 2: also, another note, just as a sort of background info. The whole America thing (and obviously Gina) didn’t happen, everything’s peachy between Michael and Tommy (and the rest of the squad fam). :)
✏️ Warnings: angst and a slight hint of smut and ‘mature’ themes (sort of PTSD talking, drugs use, depressive moments ?), so for safety measures, 18+ only! I hate it when you guys are minors and cheat me, don’t think I’m stupid.
✏️ Word-count: 5,613
<< part one: children << | << part two: anna and john << | << part three: a bigger table << | PART FOUR: WARHORSE
There has never been this much silence in the Grays’ house―six years have done plenty to change the precious status quo of things. Even the children are afraid to step on those floorboards that creak a little louder than the rest.
“The children”―they have stopped being children a long time ago, when their Daddy had to leave for the continent, Y/N reasons. They’ve grown up quicker than she did when her time had come, when the war had come crashing against the shores like a tide and had brought her father away in its muddy waves.
John and Anna are now adults―probably too young to be such―definitely too young―but it doesn’t matter, not in 1946. John is eighteen, Anna just two years younger, and while Y/N always sees them as her babies, she knows that what she’s looking at is the result of something she never thought would come again.
Even the twins don’t feel like the fourteen-year-olds they’re supposed to be. Rebellious, headstrong, Henry and Paul get in more trouble than she can count and there’s nothing she can do to help. Nothing she can do to stop that barbaric destruction her children are going through.
Michael doesn’t help. Michael can’t help―he can’t even help himself. He sits in their bedroom with the curtains drawn and the lights switched on―he’s afraid of the outer world, but he is even more of the darkness. And of what the darkness carries in its hands when it clouds his vision and the ratatat of the artillery fills not only his ears, but his veins as well.
Bill can’t help his Daddy. Bill, with his angelic face and curly hair, with that omnipresent smile on his face and that silence that always accompanies him around. Bill, from the hill of his ten years of age, can’t help his Daddy, can’t bring him back to the Brummie countryside where everything is as quiet as he is.
He’s hated―Y/N knows it and refuses to acknowledge it at the same time. His father can’t bear his company, can’t bear his presence. And it’s not because he’s mute, but because his silence fills his father’s void with screaming creatures and living horrors he just wants to forget, to delete from his memory, a burning rod scraping and digging into the grey matter of his brain.
He’s mute, too, Michael, but for a completely different reason. His lips are sealed during the day and while he’s started to finally eat again, his tongue doesn’t move, his lips don’t give shape to any kind of words.
There are screams during the night, though―blood-curdling screams that give her nightmares in the waking hours of her days―that make her skin crawl as she turns on her left side to face her husband. The screams are worse than the bombings, worse than the shrilling yells of the air-raid sirens that sometimes still thrum in her lungs and in her stomach.
But tonight is different. Tonight Michael doesn’t scream―and that’s because he doesn’t sleep. He can’t sleep, can’t bring himself to close his eyes, to see the walking skeletons that still plague his every breath with the same violence of the silence in this house. He lies there, on top of crumpled sheets, butt-naked, staring at a ceiling that’s giving him visions. He sees waves in the stucco decorations watching his every move from above, and he hears voices, whispered voices that ring like a mixture between Russian and German to his frustrated ear.
The need to scream is there, tickling the base of his throat with those chilling cold fingers that scrape at the sides of his brain every day. But there’s no sound leaving his lips.
He thinks of snow. It’s the first time in forever and the need is so strong that it’s making his mind spin, his vision blur, the muscles in his thighs cramp. He thinks that if only he manages to find some―he’s sure John uses some every once in a while―then everything will be alright. For a few hours, that is. His wife doesn’t need to know, doesn’t need to hear a thing. All he has to do is get up from that bed of thorns, walk down the corridor and into his first son’s room, and look for that God-damned magic white powder that will make him leave his body for a few, precious hours.
But when he sits up, a man possessed by his need for cocaine, the bedsheets whisper under his ass, the mattress moans and holding his breath is of no use because his wife is already turning in his direction. She didn’t fall asleep in the first place―she just can’t if he doesn’t fall asleep first, these days.
Hate bubbles up in his mouth like vomit―and it’s so sudden and unexpected that it would make him shiver if only war didn’t skin him alive. And it’s hate that makes him seethe that Go back to sleep through gritted teeth.
“Where are you going?” Her voice scrapes his eardrums, removes layer after layer of membrane from his brain. Even the faint sound of her breathing makes the nerves under his skin come to life, tense and creak like a branch ready to break and fall to the ground.
“Go back to sleep, Y/N.” It’s the most he’s said in the five months he’s been back home and he all but hates the sound of his voice. It’s foreign to his own ears, and it’s strained, paper-thin, dry like fallen leaves on a winter day.
He wants to tear his throat out with his own bare hands.
She doesn’t answer and he feels the mortal combat going on in her soul, feels it in the air like the static electricity before the storm comes. But the storm never comes. And despite his raging need for some drug-induced happiness, he sits and waits like a man staring out at the never-ending expanse of the sea.
His mouth is dry, his tongue a dead weight pressing against the back of his teeth. It weighs him down, loads his muscles with lead and cement and ashes. So many ashes that he can smell his own flesh burn and combust, baring his bones for the world to see.
“Come sleep with me.” It’s a whisper and the sound of his wife’s voice is worse than the furious march of tanks.
He’s repulsed by his wife―and repulsed by the fact that he’s repulsed by his wife.
*
There’s a mist of constant anger following Anna and her mother can’t read its reasons behind it. She wants her father back―she needs her father back now that she ended up pregnant with the child of a veteran more dead than the dead.
She’s only sixteen and she’s having a baby she doesn’t want with a man that doesn’t see her through the curtain of what he’s already seen.
‘46 is the year Love died, or so it feels as Y/N cries bitter tears in the desolate solitude of the kitchen. It’s like war didn’t end, like it brought back a monster that still has to exhale its last breath.
Sometimes she thinks she sees it. In the vacuous look in her husband’s eyes. In John’s stubborn studies. In the mess the twins give birth to every single day without cease. Even in William’s eerie silence, and she’s glad he’s off to school, now, she’s glad the week has finally started again and has brought him away for a few days.
There is no escaping what the monster does to people. Anna could get rid of the baby if she weren’t that scared, but she can’t get rid of her husband. Can’t kill off the only man she’s ever loved and that has always treated her like a queen, worshipping her like one worships God in a temple.
“Why doesn’t he say anything?” Rage burns her only daughter’s voice as she stomps into the kitchen, purposefully loud as if she’s trying to catch her father’s attention, to rile a reaction out of him the way warm water and baking soda help you vomit. “Why doesn’t he say anything?!” Voice louder, tears are burning hotter than her anger on her cheeks and there’s no stopping the furious movement of her hand, which reaches up to wipe them away.
“Anna-”
“NO!” It booms and echoes in the cramped space of the kitchen of that countryside house. It rattles against the dishes in the cupboard, scratches the wood on the walls, hits the thick panels of the windows as it scorches the girl’s throat, threatening to punch out her teeth. “Don’t do this, don’t treat me as though I don’t understand shit!”
They cry―it’s unwanted and almost humiliating, for everybody’s trying to ignore the elephant in the room, but they still do cry together, clutching at each other like they both were unyielding rocks under the onslaught of the sea. They cry and they do so in vain, for Anna’s still pregnant and Y/N’s still hated. Those tears don’t change the new reality of things and while the hiccups disrupt the otherwise gravel silence of the house, nothing happens.
Nothing can happen.
Probably nothing ever will.
“I need him and he’s a fucking ghost.”
When they look back at it in a few hours, neither will be able to say with complete certainty who pronounced those words, for they belong in both of their mouths. Y/N craves love, Anna - a father, and neither can have any.
*
John is high. He’s so high it’s a miracle he’s not floating mid-air and while his mother knows how good snow can feel, she still cries bloody tears when she sees her son like that.
John, ahead of his peers and studying psychology to help build a better world from the inside, is just as shattered as everybody else. He lies on the grass, under the shadow of an oak and the blue sky of a late-May afternoon.
And for a blind moment, Y/N thinks she’s lost him to the family’s very own sin. And she almost pukes right then and there, turned away as she is towards the flowerbeds she’s spent so much time tending to―it doesn’t matter that the house is surrounded by flowers planted in the hopes of forgetting, for nobody seems to be able to see them anyway.
But then he smiles, and he calls her over, and for a second she can see a glimpse of how Michael used to look like. The boy lost John Shelby’s looks and resemblance right before turning ten and has since then started down a path that was bound to make him stand out like his father’s very copy. Beautiful and strong and just as passionate about life and horses as one could be.
Life and horses and Tokyo.
“You are so beautiful, Mum,” he says, knocking the air out of her lungs as she stands there, frozen in time and space as she stares down at him. “You shouldn’t cry so much. Red eyes don’t look good on you.”
For a weird, unknown reason she bursts out laughing. She doesn’t know when the last time she laughed was, and John doesn’t recall it either.
It feels good, liberating, even. She didn’t think she still had it in herself to produce such sound, to let go in a burst of unexpected laughter induced by a second-hand high. But it’s good and for a moment, it makes her forget better than gardening has ever done.
“Where did you find it?” The words are out before she can stop them―she doesn’t want to know. She doesn’t want to know who gave her precious son a pinch of that artificial happiness that’s still staining his nostrils.
John looks happier than he’s ever looked in the last six years and a half. He looks like himself once again and she’s terrified to the bone by this thought―by this realisation―by the fact that there’s still a glimpse of the real him just because he’s managed to find the Devil’s powder somewhere she can’t even name.
“Charlie,” he answers with a chuckle almost as if to ask her Who else do you think has coke to spare, uh, Mum? The name also rings like an accusation, acid and scorching like an unwanted truth―It’s always been in the family and always will be. We’ll turn into snow when we die. And then we go straight to hell. “It’s good shit.” His dreamy eyes are more terrifying than the appalling screams tearing her husband’s body apart from the inside. “Have some with me.”
She doesn’t. The need to is strong, buzzing with a life of its own in her very veins with the same intensity it burned in Michael’s just a month before, the night he ordered her to go back to sleep before walking out naked of their shared room.
“Isn’t this the best feeling in the world?” Johnny asks and she lies―Yes. Yes, it is.
But she’s crying. She’s crying silent tears that stream down her ashy face like rivers. Their saltiness tastes like blood between her parted lips and she’s sure that they’re staining her teeth red, turning her mouth into that of a monster.
That’s the first time she thinks her family is dying, slowly falling apart between her numb, useless fingers, under her heart as heavy as a tombstone. It wrecks her from the inside out, a little more with each minute she passes staring into her son’s blissed-out eyes.
Yes, it’s the best feeling in the world, she cries, holding him between trembling arms as she feels old and decomposed inside.
*
Tommy’s visit is unexpected that night. And for a moment, his possessed face is all Y/N can see as she does her best not to recoil in front of that ghost as she keeps the entrance door open.
“Can I come in?”
His voice rings foreign to her ears, paper rustling in the wind, aged by years spent smoking―and then screaming. His whole face appears alien, a haunting vision out of a blood-freezing nightmare.
She doesn’t answer, but she does step back―enough to let him see the bare hall but not enough to let him pass. And it’s not because she doesn’t want him in her house, but because she can’t move, rooted as she is to the stone floor she scrubs every morning, from four to six, just to keep her own mind distracted after the restless night she’s had.
Henry and Paul follow the man with their heads hanging low and they, too, look like a spectral vision. Bloodied faces, crumpled clothes. Two fourteen-year-olds suddenly aged into old men.
She’s on the verge of fainting.
She’s weak and trembling inside, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets and she doesn’t even know why. Doesn’t know why the world is spinning and her throat constricting, vomit threatening to make an appearance after the tasteless dinner she’s still recovering from.
Yes, it’s the best feeling in the world. She now wishes she had kept her son’s cocaine because she could so use a snort right about now.
If nothing, it’s a blessing that Michael is in bed already―that he hasn’t moved from the mattress the whole day. A lack of reaction on his part is what would make or break her―break her most likely.
“Where is Michael?”
She doesn’t answer. Her tongue is knotted and her mouth is stuffed―with what, she doesn’t know, but it has the strangely familiar taste of nightmares. Her hand is still on the door handle: if she lets go, she’s going to fall. She’s going to fall knees first to the floor and there’s nobody there willing to pick her up―not her sons, not her husband’s cousin.
He’s seen too much already―Tommy. He’s marched through two wars and the extra years he’s been granted in France after the Great War have been wasted away between France and Germany now, possibly even Italy―she doesn’t know for sure―doesn’t want to know for sure.
Y/N wants to speak but can’t. Wants to ask her children what’s wrong with them and why do you want to break your mother’s heart? You stop being you the moment you give birth to your children, or so she’s always thought. Life starts again with a new Day One and all that came before that was extra. But now motherhood feels like lead shoes, pulling her down to the bottom of the ocean as her lungs fight against the salty water, fight for oxygen, fight for-
She doesn’t know, not anymore.
“They’ve been going at it again,” Tommy says, looking around and taking in the bare walls of a once well-decorated house. There had once been wind chimes hanging from the ceiling on the middle of the hall, but they’re not there anymore. And Tommy knows why. “Paul more than Henry.”
He says this almost as though Y/N knows what he’s talking about. The truth is, she doesn��t. And as soon as he’s going to leave, the twins are going to go upstairs without even glancing in her direction. That’s how it always goes, how her heart keeps on breaking day in and day out. There’s no rest. Absolutely no rest from that kind of torture.
“I’ll keep an eye on them, but…” He trails off, averts his eyes from hers almost as though the sight of her has burned him. He breathes in deeply and for a moment he keeps the air there, somewhere in-between his nose and his brain, afraid he’s going to smell blood or gunpowder or the acrid stink of war. “You keep one on them, too.”
The best feeling in the world―she’s not even sure she remembers what such a thing is. Nor if it even existed and she was there to witness.
She nods, and it’s all she can do.
“Keep them home for a week. The waters need to calm down.” These words make her gag, but she’s quick at swallowing it, at looking away―from the devil and from her sons. Then, Tommy reaches the door again, takes her hand off the handle. It’s not a gentle touch―he pries her fingers off the brass knob and that’s it. Dead fingers touching dying fingers―it doesn’t matter that her nails are painted a calm shade of pink, pale cyclamen on a spring morning. “Two is better.”
He leaves without turning back, without telling her it’s all going to be okay, that he’s there for her and her family, that he’ll come back, sooner or later. There’s no solace for her soul, sick and tired and on the brink of the abyss, staring up at her with its raping, hungry eyes. There are no words for wives like her, for women like her, left behind even when the husbands are back, breathing.
The best feeling-
She’s sobbing before she has the chance to feel the sob, to feel the tears sting her desensitised eyes. And she’s clutching a hand over her mouth because she can’t make a noise, can’t make a noise, can’t make a noise. Not in this house, not in this world.
“Mum?”
She wants to scream at them, wants to kick them out―out of the house, but not out of her life, she couldn’t take it, couldn’t-
“Mum?”
There’s a hand on her shoulder and the contact makes her jolt―almost jump out of her fucking skin.
They can’t see her like that.
And at the same time, part of her wants them to see. Wants them to know they’re not the only ones suffering.
Greedy bastards.
And she’s scared of that sudden, intrusive thought in the desolated land her mind has become.
“We’re sorry, mum.”
And when they hug her, Henry from one side and Paul from the other, she cries even harder because she’d do anything in her power to give her children a better alternative ending, but she can’t. She doesn’t have the power, doesn’t have the strength.
“So sorry.”
The best feeling in the world is that of the memories long forgotten in the deepest part of her mind, inside that red room she’s had to securely lock back in ‘39. A sunny September day it had been, still tasting like August and summer and the lovemaking sessions under a starry sky her husband had gifted her.
This is…
This is not…
“We’ll be better.”
And she cries because she knows the promise is sincere―fate just isn’t. Fate is against them, a growing tide ready to kidnap anything and anyone on the shore, staring up at an unforgiving moon.
It will last for a day, maybe a week, but soon enough she’ll have to witness her twins’ return home bloodied and battered, and she’ll have to live this moment again.
And again.
And then once more.
And one day Tommy will come home to tell her that her boys have died, that someone has stabbed them both to death and Quick! and Come! Before they bleed out in the middle of the street!
Her worries leave her mouth without her knowing she’s spilling them, bullets of a machine gun travelling a thousand miles a minute, hitting flesh and bone and brick. And soul.
They let her cry until there are no tears left, until she can barely stand on her feet, her right hand back wrapping around the door handle.
The best feeling in the world is a cocaine-induced orgasm, but she doesn’t tell them.
*
Bill is home from school. One more week and she’ll have to endure his presence for the whole summer. She’s terribly aware of how wretched a mother she sounds like, but she thinks this for his own good.
She doesn’t want him at home, at home where everything hurts and the silence eats him alive. Eats them all alive. She wants him away, in some far-away boarding school, someplace where nobody has ever heard of war or grief or silence and every day is a blessing.
Where is Dad? he wants to know with a smile on his face.
He’s a kid―he’s still her baby, the one she held in her loving arms back in ‘35, when shit still had to pop. She’s loved him then and she loves him now, but she’s a liar.
Y/N is a mother and a liar.
“Sleeping,” she answers, stretching a terrifying smile across her lips.
She’s making apple pie―the family’s all-time favourite―and Billy is helping her, pouring cinnamon on freshly cut apple slices with those tiny-but-growing hands of his.
Do you think he’ll enjoy his birthday present?
Oh, honey, I’m not even sure Daddy knows what day it is today, she wants to say but keeps quiet. “He’ll love it, baby.”
William always blushes when she calls him ‘baby’―I’m not a baby anymore, Mummy. And she smiles because he still calls her ‘Mummy’ when the rest of her kids have stopped calling her that before they turned ten. He’s her precious ray of sunshine on a stormy day, somehow managing to pierce the thick layer of clouds covering all sources of light.
But he doesn’t complain today. William is mute, not deaf, and he knows his Mummy cried herself to sleep in the living room last night. It’s his favourite, he signs, fingers wet and sprinkled with cinnamon.
And she hums and for a moment she feels like singing as she’s always done in the past. But she doesn’t, she can’t feel the music inside herself, can’t even conjure up the names of the notes. “We all love it,” she adds, turning back towards the dough she’s somehow correctly making. “You’ll be an amazing chef one day. Everybody will know William Gray’s name from Los Angeles to Tokyo.”
She’s glad Will doesn’t know what Tokyo can be―nor that she’s had a pinch, a few days before, and that that’s been her fuel for a whole day, keeping her up on her feet when all her knees wanted to do was give out under her weight.
It’s almost four in the afternoon when Anna joins them, baby bump barely peeking from underneath the yellow sweatshirt she hopes would help brighten up her day. Andrew hung himself the month before and the unexpected baby won’t have a father for real, now.
She’s used coke, too, a couple of times. Probably not the best choice when there’s a baby involved, but snow always helps everybody, whether it comes from the sky or some back-alley pusher.
“Hey, Billy-boy.” She ruffles William’s loose curls and everybody knows he hates it, but he still smiles at his sister from underneath beautifully long lashes.
Ten years old and he’s probably the more mature in the house. He sees right through the lie, but doesn’t make you feel guilty for lying, doesn’t kick you with the donkey-kick of a priest. Hey, Annie-girl.
She chuckles at the nickname and before she can second-think it, she kneels down and kisses his fingers one by one and then the tip of his nose and hugs him as tight as only a big sister can do. The sight warms Y/N’s heart and for a moment she stands there, tea cloth in one hand and wet kitchen counter forgotten.
The best feeling in the world has the taste of her children hugging, not the bitter one of snow. And it’s warm and bright and breathtaking―utterly breathtaking even now, on the edge of the unknown.
“You’re a good kid,” Anna murmurs in her brother’s ear and then she gasps and freezes and it takes Y/N a while to look up from her kids to see what has shocked her daughter so much.
The world stands still for a minute as she stares at him from the other side of the kitchen. It’s a scary view, it truly is, but it tastes like the sweetest lie, even if he doesn’t say anything, even if it looks like he barely registers his wife or two of his children’s presence in the room.
And then, the spell snaps and it breaks and all Y/N can see is the revolver in his left hand.
The children are out before they have the chance to complain, to tell her that they’d rather stay, that I’ve heard of shit happening, Mum, and I don’t want to bury you in that sweet and worried voice of her daughter that will plague her forever if things go wrong.
“Baby.”
She hasn’t called him ‘baby’ in forever and the word has a weird weight on the tip of her tongue right before it jumps out. The tea cloth is on the floor, forgotten, and she takes slow steps in her husband’s direction, bare feet against bare stone as she tries to ground herself in the moment, to not let her mind wander off. This is not a rabid dog she can shoot in the back of the head, this is her husband, her best friend, the love of her life.
“Baby.”
He’s breathing hard and fast, and when she’s close enough to touch him, she can feel his warmth―his heat. There’s no need to touch him to know he’s feverish, no need to read more in the goosebumps dotting his skin than the temperature rising higher in his body.
“People were here to hurt you.” It feels like each and every word he speaks pains him as his chest rises and falls and the air comes out scorching hot from his flaring nostrils. “Hurt you.” He cradles the side of her face with his right hand and the gun in the other presses its side against her cheek. There’s no menace in the action, just a husband holding his wife’s face and forgetting about the weapon he’s still clutching on to. “Hurt you.”
He doesn’t see her―his gaze is vacuous and distant―and it’s almost as though he can’t feel her, for the pads of his fingers press harder into the soft flesh of her cheeks.
There are tears on his face and those are the first thing John sees when he rushes into the kitchen from the door that gives on the back yard and the fields beyond, where Anna or William probably found him right after leaving the room. And they’re what stops him in his tracks, ready as he is to lunge himself on his father and push him away from his mother.
“Killed the kids,” he’s saying―Michael―and he sounds pained, more pained than he does at night when the horrors behind his closed eyelids wake him up. “Wanted to rape you.”
Anna is late at covering William’s ears, at shielding him from words whose meaning he doesn’t know, not yet. Snow and rape are still terms in the vocabulary he hasn’t reached yet―and hopefully he never will.
“They wanted to hurt you.”
It’s a blessing that John has managed to hide all the bullets he found in the house and that his father’s gun is not loaded. If it comes down to violence, he knows it won’t end with a bleeding hole in his mother’s chest.
“Dad?”
Michael moves almost as though he’s standing in the fog, fog so thick that both sound and light get distorted into nightmarish visions and sounds.
“Come outside, let Mum go.”
*
Summer ticks by painfully slowly and out here, in the country, the nights are silent. Cicadas are quieter than they ever were and it’s almost as though they know they shouldn’t disturb the warhorse.
Not even when he’s awake.
It’s a foreign feeling, that of being touched by her husband once again, of having him pumping inside her as he keeps himself propped up on his elbows, his hands cradling her face, his eyes focused on a spot right above her head, on the pillow.
It’s not love, it’s barely the shadow of what love used to feel like between the two of them, but it’s not violence, either―Michael came back many things from the war, but not a violent man. It’s the desperate attempt of going back to normalcy, of feeling alive again even when your limbs are cold and your loins feel dry. It’s tasteless and mechanical, but not meaningless.
This is not the best feeling in the world, but it can be, one day. It can be.
It will be again, Y/N knows it, and she’s willing to wait, she’s willing to help if he allows her.
Even now, her hands are soothing on the tense muscles of his back and on the ridgy scars left behind by God knows what kind of horrors. And her lips are warm against the cold sweat layering the skin of his neck, and her words soft―honey-like in his ear as she tries to bring him back home, bring him back where he’s loved and cherished and safe.
It’s silent. Their new lovemaking sessions are silent even when he pants above her, lost in some memory of his, in some feeling of his as he thrusts into her, trying to remember what it used to feel like.
He’s not back yet, Billy said that day in the kitchen, too wise for his own age and sake. But he will be. Don’t worry, Mummy.
She doesn’t worry, not when her son’s words meant the world to her back then―not when they still mean the world to her right now.
There is still hope and this is what she thinks of when Michael lies on his back, skin flustered and sweaty and breath short and ragged, his eyes staring up at a ceiling she doesn’t know if he’s seeing or not. He’s trickling out of her, down her thigh and onto the mattress, but it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t care.
She looks at him and she thinks that there’s still hope, that one day they’ll be back in their Birmingham bedroom and he’ll take out those stupidly expensive Parisian earrings from her ears and he’ll unclasp her diamond necklace. And he’ll let it fall to the ground―as carelessly as only he can―as he worships her body with his own.
Her fingertips are butterfly wings on the skin of his abdomen―still tight and soft as ever, maybe just not as full. She traces one of his scars, circles her bellybutton, and then plays for a moment with his happy trail. She stares at it and the only thought in her mind is, Oh, how I wish you still knew what the best feeling in the world is!
He’s ticklish, he’s always been, on his abdomen, behind his knees. He’s not as much now, but his body still tenses under her touch, an involuntary reaction she’s quite sure he’s not even aware of. She doesn’t know whether he felt her around him just a while ago, doesn’t know whether he’s heard her sweet nothings whispered like prayers in his deaf ears.
But when she looks up at him, she finds him looking down at her, brows slightly furrowed in a questioning expression, almost as if he’s wondering When did she get here?
He doesn’t touch her, doesn’t move his hands―his right one from his stomach and the other from the mattress. He doesn’t touch her but his eyes still caress the features of her face, trail down her naked body and then back up. It’s like he’s seeing her for the first time after a long absence, like he’s not just been sheathed inside her for the better part of the last two hours, trying to make himself feel something again.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she says, and her whisper floats up to him and makes his eyes sting. “However long it takes.”
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Put a ring on it
I’m not sure what this is, everyone. Had it on my docs for a while, got bored during work and thought ‘what if I just post this?’, and here we are. Basically the Core Four being loving and caring (and spiteful).
Shout out to @animemangasoul who pumped me up about this and @the-quiet-carrotcake and @iphoenixrising for letting me cry to them the Titans loving Tim.
Can be read as either ship or friendship
------.------
When shit went down, Wally and Roy made sure they were nowhere near the planet. A nice little interplanetary fuckery called for anyone free, and both of them had magically clean schedules, so off they went, praying to every god they knew about (and, with how many holy disasters they had faced between them, there were a lot) to be back after the worst of the mess had blown over.
Even if it meant missing the undoubtedly hilarious face Batman would make when he found out. Not even the chance of witnessing that was worth staying and waiting with bated breath until someone pointed out that, in the end, it was both their faults.
-So let me get this straight.
-Difficult for me, but go on.
Wally rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at his little dude, wondering how Nightwing could do this with not one, not two, but three badly adjusted little brothers (and that without counting the girls, though, to be honest, they already had Babs). Truly, a hero of the ages. Arsenal just cackled from his place in front of the coffee table, where he was keeping them company and cleaning his equipment.
-I’m serious. I’ve never seen you this mad without a bad guy to blame for it.
-Well…
-As furious as you are at them, Bart, they are still the good guys.
-Debatable.
Wally threw another pillow, and Bart, arms crossed and all but vibrating on the couch, didn’t even bother on dodging. Just moved his particles quick enough that the thing went straight through him.
Arsenal raised an eyebrow at them- It’s scary when you do that. Like a freaking ghost.
-It’s scary that Tim’s whole family can be this level of neglectful, but you don’t see me bitching at them.
-Only because you know they’ll give you your ass back to you in a silver platter after they are done whooping it -interjected the older speedster, snack bag on his lap, a few more by the ground at his feet, sitting as close to Bart as the whole ‘don’t touch, I bite’ aura he had around him would allow.
-Kinky.
This time, Wally’s pillow was aimed at the archer. Roy just dodged without looking, still cross legged on the other side of the little table facing the couch.
-Real talk now, it’s not like they are jerks on purpose. We all know the Bats are on a whole new level of ‘always busy’, it’s to be expected they wouldn’t have time for social niceties.
Wally winced, scooting a little further away from Bart when he looked up to glare at Roy. That wasn’t a nice look. That was a ‘I can take you to someplace no one would hear you scream in less than ten seconds’ look.
-My seventeen year old best friend managed to finish high school after having to take a year off to go look for his missing mentor, going through several different mourning processes and dodging a frankly creepy cradle robber of a ninja terrorist, all while kicking ass and taking names, taking care of a huge as hell company, and keeping up the intel guy work for the rest of his shitty family. And he still graduated early. The least they could do after the fuckery he was put through by their collective stupidity would be go as moral support, but no. No, other things are more important than such a big milestone on his life. Fuckers.
Wound down after the rant, Bart dropped back on the couch, shrinking in place, oozing contempt from every pore.
Roy raised his eyes to share a look with Wally. Even if the bro code meant they were contractually obligated to defend their respective best friends, there was undeniable truth to Bart’s statement. Jason had gone on killing sprees for far less than Tim’s situation, and God knows Dick would have showed a big middle finger at his mentor and go off world with the Titans as a protest at the slightest fight. All in all, Red Robin was taking it like a champ.
-Jason’s busy with the Torinelli drug cartel thingie -tried Roy nonetheless, loyal as one could be.
Wally nodded- And Dick had already promised Damian to go on a camping-training trip that weekend...
-Great. So criminals that aren’t going anywhere and the ‘favorite’ demon child are more important than my best friend’s graduation, which isn’t even a long thing, just a couple hours and a few photos. Awesome. Do you happen to know Batman’s excuse? I mean, I’m sure is equally as shitty as his sons’ excuses, but, you know. Variety and stuff.
Wally sighed, because yeah, point. Were it Bart’s graduation, nothing short of the end of the world would have kept him from going, but, again, he only had one little dude to worry about. Dick’s house was full.
-You’ll be there -tried Roy, dropping his arrow back on the table and resting his crossed arms next to it, leaning forward to look straight at Bart-, you and the rest of the brats, right? Supes and Diana’s babies. You guys may not be related like that, but that’s not necessary for you to be family.
Like the Teen Titans were, went unsaid- the older heroes exchanged a glance, reminiscent of their days fighting side by side under Dick’s unwavering leadership. No matter where they were now, that’s where they both came from.
-Yeah -accepted Bart, but the frown hadn’t left his face-. It’s just. His parents are dead, his ‘foster’ bat-family are dicks. He has us, yeah, but… I wished he could have his family there, you know. Like, if I could adopt him, I would, just so he can have that.
Wally dropped the empty snack bag onto the ground and took a new one, tipping it in Bart’s direction as a peace offering- I mean, it’s still a month away, maybe one of them would clear his schedule and go? Probably not all of them, but anything’s better than nothing, right?
Bart harrumphed, hunching even lower in the couch, pout still present.
-If anything else fails -joked Roy, going back to cleaning his stuff-, I hear Kara’s single right now, and Tim’s an emancipated minor. Get them to marry each other, and then your Super friend is technically his brother- or something like that. Political families still counts.
Bart went still for a second, and if Wally were less invested in his snack and more on the thoughtful expression on his face, he might have known ahead of time that his next words were a bad, bad idea.
-And if she’s not on board, you could always ask someone else on your team. Team as family and all that shit, Tim would literally be marrying into the fam. Want some chips?
But Bart was already gone.
-Huh? -blinked Roy- Where'd he run to?
-...
-...You don't think he…
-What? No. No, of course not, they aren't so dumb...
For a horrible second, Roy and Wally crossed eyes again, both remembering the stupid shit they got up to when they were seventeen, and replayed the conversation. Their jokes, that anyone with half a brain would take as that, as silliness. Then came the thought that being stupid was almost a requirement for being a Titan.
With the kind of synchronicity one could only have after fighting side by side for years, they both jumped to their feet at the same time.
-I’ll hit Kori up, maybe she has some alien fuckery to deal with and we can tag along.
-Imma call Supes and let him know we’ll be off planet for a while. Shit, Dick’s gonna flip. He was the big B for a while, he knows stuff. Painful stuff.
-Dude, he at least doesn’t kill. Jay has guns, and it’s his favorite brother we’re talking about.
A shiver went through them when Batman’s reaction came to mind.
-If Kori’s not dealing with something, I’ll ask her to start shit up somewhere far, far away to give us an excuse to leave either way. She’s a goddess like that, she’ll help.
-Good thinking. I’ll start packing.
---.----
The secret meeting was held at one of Tim’s safe houses, because it had enough lead on the walls there was no risk of Superman overhearing them. Not that the owner of the place was aware of it; no one was, besides Cassie, Kon and Bart themselves. Keeping it hush hush was vital for the success of the mission.
-All on board then?
Kon’s smile could light up a town- Hell yeah dude. I’ll take care of getting Tim time off from work. Tam knows me and I’m fairly sure she doesn’t hate me as strongly as she does the bats. Fair warning though, she might ask to come with.
-She’s cool, so I’m in. We’re gonna need a witness anyway.
Cassie nodded, fierce smirk and challenge in her eyes- This is gonna piss so many people. Hey, do you think if we let Oracle in the know she’ll give us footage of the bats' faces when they find out?
Bart bit his lip- As crash as that would be, I don’t think it’s worth the risk.
Cassie deflated, but then shrugged it off- We’ll ask Tim, then. He’s as good as her with hacking, I’m sure he’ll figure something out.
-If he doesn’t kill us first, you mean.
-Don’t be a coward, Kon. I thought you were in.
-I’m not saying I’m backing down, just that we should put our business in order in case he snaps and murders us in cold blood. I know he has it in him, if pushed the right ways.
She nodded, because point. The almost feral look on her face wasn’t gone, though- Worth it. I'll be in charge of clothes. You reckon there's any chance I can get a dress on him?
-Sure, if you want him to actually break his no kill rule.
-Fine, but he's wearing white anyway. It goes well with his skin tone.
Bart extended his first for her to bump- Now you're talking. I'll be the extraction man and take him to the place.
Kon crossed his arms, looking conflicted for the first time- We can't go the classic way about it, because a fake name would mean he won't take seriously what we're trying to do, and if we use his real one in a formal document, it'll hit the news before the ink has a chance to dry. And then he'll kill us for sure.
-You're awfully worried about him drawing blood, Blue. What gives?
-He's scared shitless of Cassie and you're too adorable to hurt, but me? I'm the one he's gonna focus his rage on, and you know how he gets when at his limit.
Cassie snorts- He can't live without you, you dork. I think we are all safe. And anyways, the plan is to make him too drunk to walk on a straight line, he wouldn't be able to hurt us.
-You say that -interjected Bart, getting up from where he was crouching above their carefully spread, color coded sheets of plans; Tim would be so proud- but I've seen the dude drop kick someone with a broken leg once. He can fuck shit up no matter the situation.
-True… still, we are doing it, right?
-Oh yeah, for sure, I just wanted everyone aware that it might be our last big bang.
-Then we better make sure it's one hell of an explosion, am I right?
-Hell yeah.
-This is gonna be so crash!
----.----
The entire thing had gone something like this.
On friday, Tam made Tim turn around and head back home the second he showed his face at the office, claiming the bags under his eyes clashed terribly with her new Prada handbag and she’d rather had it than him around. In Foxspeak, it meant ‘go the fuck to sleep or so help me God’. Tim would have fought back just on principle, but Tam had him at a standstill, because the spleen thing could very easily reach Alfred’s ears if he crosses her, and no one (him) wants that. As if to make sure he would obey, she demanded they share the car that would take her to the airport (did she have some meeting out of Gotham? He couldn’t remember) and dropped him at his Perch on her way there.
He wasn’t actually planning on sleep, maybe work some of his cases from home, start patrol early, possibly tracking Jason down to offer his help for the drug cartel thing. Confused by the unexpected way his morning had gone so far, he was woefully underprepared for a flash of red and yellow to whisk him from his living room the second he put his carrier bag on the ground.
It was only years from using his team as glorified uber drives what kept him from nerve striking Bart on reflex. Knowing whatever he asked would be lost to the background sound of super fast travelling, he merely slumped over the thin shoulder he was thrown over and waited till they reached their destination.
Which… he wasn’t expecting Vegas.
The next few hours were a blur of his team explaining they had planned this gateaway as an early graduation party, hugs and a few grateful tears on his part, and booze. So much booze. He was trained by Batman, he had a bigger than average resistance to… well, everything, and still, he got so, so wasted.
Saturday’s hungover was cured with more booze. They hit casino after casino, danced over tables, payed a bar owner to close for the night and let them work their way through his entire supply, went to some neon party at someone’s exceedingly large hotel suite (the guy wasn’t getting his deposit back), his cellphone was thrown on a fountain after Cassie got sick of it going off again and again with Dick’s predetermined ringtone, drank some more, were kicked out of yet another casino...
At some point Tam appeared (a very drunk Tim had hugged her and spun her around so fast her stilettos went flying and almost blinded someone), and they all went back to the hotel, where Kon basically manhandled him into a white suit. More booze when Tim started asking questions, followed by a two hour long stay at some park were Cassie, Bart and Kon took turns holding his hand, and then each others’, with Tam saying something about bonds, and family, and sickness, and health in the background, Kon muttering something in kryptonian and making Tim repeat it, Cassie dropping to one knee and sprouting some Amazonian speech, Bart jumping on his back after his own speech (futuristic laws and all) was done, then more booze, partying and….
Well, everything was a blur, before and after that.
They woke up saturday morning with the worst headache, in a undignified puppy pile back at their suit, minus Tam who apparently had her own room. Kon’s TTK took care of the blinds and Tim blinked awake at the sound (Robin instincts), looked at his sleeping friends and then went back to sleep, head pillowed by Bart’s butt, with Cassie’s knee denting his ribs and Kon’s arm thrown over his neck, completely disregarding the three rings hanging from his shiny new necklace.
That was a problem for sober Tim to solve.
---.----
Monday morning, Tim went back to the office, Tam by his side, acting like everything was perfectly fine.
Dick called after lunch asking about his whereabouts that past weekend, claiming he was missed during patrol, but backed down when informed he was actually relaxing with his friends. Bruce didn’t ask, probably had tracked him down the second he couldn’t find him and let him be after realizing he was at Las Vegas.
Everyone that saw them walking down WE’s hallways would have swore a trail of classic music followed them, graceful and elegant.
In Tim’s mind, however, the background sound was the kill bill sirens and blaring red lights.
Tam felt like a queen, coming back after conquering treacherous lands.
Tim felt like Jason may have been onto something when he died.
----.----
When the Big Day (capital letters included) arrived, and Tim got into the stage to accept his diploma (Honor Student, of course), his eyes automatically went to the loud, rowdy teenagers, sitting as close to the front as possible, cheering and smiling.
He was far enough that it could’ve been a trick of the light, but he thought he could see all three of them going misty-eyed. His own eyes watered when he shook the headmaster's hand and posed with his diploma for the cameras (Wayne Heir Graduating would be trending on every magazine by dinnertime), his friends never stopping yelling his name.
When the time came to throw the little hats, he catched by the corner of his eye how Bart held both Cassie’s and Kon’s hands, keeping them from flying in their emotion. If one paid close attention, their feet actually were floating juuust above the ground. They were just so genuinely excited for him, it was… it was amazing.
After as little smalltalk as possible with his classmates, he sneaked away into some hidden spot, away from prying cameras, and waited. Sure enough, his best friends were there barely ten seconds later, and using that same speed, they swept him off his feet. Bart was the first, latching to his front, Kon a close second jumping on his back and hugging his head. Cassie, ever the showoff, threw her hands around the three of them and spun them around as if they weighted nothing to her. That was probably the case.
-You did it, you did it, you did it!!!! Oh my god, this is so crash!!!
-Not that we had any doubt, with that big brain of yours. Making a girl so proud.
-Speak for yourself. Personally, I feared the worst. This is Gotham, after all.
-But nothing happened! And you GRADUATED!
Tim let out a laugh, allowing himself to just feel joy. Letting them see him like that, as payment for being the most awesome friends (family) in existence, he returned the hug, squeezing back as strongly as his non meta arms could.
Then, a voice behind them that he absolutely didn't expect- Congratulations, Master Timothy.
Without letting any of them go, Cassie turned around, so they could all see Alfred Pennyworth, in his Sunday’s best, looking proud and warm, his eyes glazed over with nostalgia when they landed on his young charge. One of the young men he had the honor to watch grow into the amazing person he was today.
Even more surprising, he held a tablet on his arms, screen facing them, with a familiar figure there, white streak and leather but no firearms, probably cautious of possible civilians around.
-Hey, baby bird. Sorry ‘couldn’t be ther’ p’rsonally. Hope ya don’t mind me an’ Alfie crashing like this.
-A-Alfred? Jason? What… I thought you were in Russia!!
The man on the screen scratched the back of his head, visibly uncomfortable but determined.
-Am, actually. But it’s yer big day, babybird. Wouldn’t missit for the world.
Tim’s already watery eyes just overflowed.
-----.----
It took a month for shit to hit the fan. Tim was honestly impressed, because things rarely went his way, and getting more than a few hours to mentally prepare for Disaster? Unheard of. What a shocker.
When it did went down, it was in large part because he was milking the ‘no metas in Gotham’ rule that kept his team at bay and allowed him to go days without sleeping. Kon would say it was karmatic retribution for ignoring their orders to relax and take it easy. He would protest, but really, how to deny the truth; if not for his sleep deprivation, his secret would have gone a lot longer without being unveiled.
Between hacking into Lexcorp, running the dna samples he took during patrol half an hour ago on the database and finishing his report of the night, he was out of fucks to give. Damian bitching on his ear was the last drop.
-...And your mere presence here is an insult to Grayson's legacy. He founded it, Todd died for it, what did you even contribute to it?
A slow blink. Tim was aware his brain to mouth filter was as good as gone, but tired as he was, he just didn't care.
-Besides providing the brains on this whole fucking operation? Pants, I guess. Common sense. Ninja skills commended by your own grandfather, the king of ninjas. Virtue, too, since Dick is a verified hoe and Jason slept with your/
-C'mon Timmy -cut in Dick, Nightwing suit halfway down his chest, when Damian's face was turning an alarming shade of blue- aren't you a little old to be fighting a kid?
-Who are you calling kid?!
Typical, big bro to the rescue. Tim was too tired to be disappointed that once again Dick was siding with an eleven year old bully that kept harassing Tim. Never mind that he had been minding his business before Damian came to bark at him.
-Boys -chided Bruce and, huh, Tim had said that out loud. Whatever, not like it wasn't true. Fuck them.
-Fuck you -he told… Bruce? Dick? Definitely Damian, too- all.
-Tim! -gasped Dick. Still half naked. Standing right by Damian's side.
That kid was going to have a very uncomfortable sexual awakening any day now.
-SHUT UP, DRAKE! YOU ARE DISGUSTING!
Wow he really needed to stop talking out loud.
-Tim -And now Bruce was walking towards them, frown firmly in place- you are obviously too tired, if you can't control what comes out of your mouth. Go to sleep.
Tim hissed at him. Dick looked too shocked to answer but Bruce, somewhat used to that reaction of the sleep deprived teen, loomed even more.
-I'm an emancipated adult. I control your company. I live on my own. You're not the boss of me.
Now even Damian was looking at him open mouthed. Whatever. The computer pinged with his results, just as his phone did with his 'The hubbies and waifus' group chat.
-What's gotten into you, kiddo? -now Dick was worried, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Still half naked, that was an important detail.
Tim shrugged him away.
-Fucking demon spawn coming from nowhere to fuck with me just for the hell of it puts me in a bad mood, I'm weird like that -he deadpaned, replying to the group chat one handed- And the rest of this fucked up team siding with him just because he's a bad word away from a violent psychotic break doesn't help. Fuck off and let me do my shit, and I'll be out of your hair before you know it.
And then, with a sneer, ignoring both Bruce's and Dick's flabbergasted expressions, Damian said what would be Tim's down fall.
-Go to hell, Drake.
A ping made Tim look down at his phone and he replied without thinking, one hand tapping away at the screen- Wait, let me ask my wife.
A beat of silence. One sneer, one grunt, one surprised gasp.
Bruce made a half step towards him- Tim, what/?
A ping.
-She says no. Hang on, let me get you a second opinion, just to be safe.
-Timmy, what do you mean/?
Another one.
-Husband number one says no, too. Husband number two hasn't replied, probably asleep or traveling somewhere, but two already win by majority. It seems it's a ‘no’ on going to hell for me. Bummer, it would have been funny seeing your homeland, brat.
-...
-...
-...
-Aaaaand that’s my cue to interrupt -announced a new voice above them all. Kon, phone at hand, looked down with half amused, half guarded expression-. Someone hasn’t held their end of the deal and slept eight hours, huh, bud?
Tim, ignoring his family that hadn’t yet recovered from the bomb, shrugged- I slept eight hours. This past week. You never said they had to be consecutive hours.
The super just sighed and landed long enough to haul a too tired to resist bird in his arms- I can see you aren’t getting any sleep in Gotham. Let’s go back to the Tower, Cassie wants us to see The Princess Bride with her again.
-Don’t lie to me, you liar.
-Bart wan/
-Look at my face and tell me the truth.
-Okay, I want to see The Princess Bride again -he conceded, taking flight towards the closest exit, sleepy bird cocooned in his arms and TTK- Later, bats!
-...
-...
Finally, Dick snapped back to reality, although the background noise in his head was one would expect in suspense movies right before the assassin jumped a unsuspecting protagonist- ...did he say ‘husbands’? As in, married?
-...
-AS IN MORE THAN ONE?
----.----
#Tim drake#kon el kent#cassie sandsmark#bart allen#tam fox#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#damian wayne#Alfred Pennyworth#core four#crack wedding
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