#I made one with a real lemon last year | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 months ago

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Please, Please, Please

Summary: A lot can change in two years, but will your husband be able to gain back your trust?

Pairing: past (?) Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3k

Rating: T

Warnings: angst, talk about past shitty behaviour, moving on, feelings and their denial, more feelings, earning back trust, eventual forgiveness, flashbacks, maybe... a kiss???!

A/N: This is it! The last part of yet another series that started out as a very angsty one shot I had no real intention of writing more parts of. I hope you like this last part. Now all I need is to finish my long neglected Joel Soulmate series....

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part five of invisible string

Christmas was approaching.

The second Christmas you and your family would be spending in Jackson.

And with it a long to do list to make the holiday as perfect as it was possible in these times. The plan today was to prepare everything for the cookie bake session the next day at the community hall. Your alarm bleeped early and you reached over it blindly with a long groan that turned into a cough that shook your whole body.

Groaning you turned to lay on your back, your eyes blinking open.

Trying to take a deep breath through your nose gave you another cough attack, your throat hurting, your nose stuck.

„Fuck,“ you sighed, eyes closing.

„Mommy?“ There was a knock on the door. It was Ana.

„Mhhhhh?“ You sighed and the door opened. Your heard her footsteps coming to the side of your bed, your eyes opening. Smiling softly at her wearing the Christmas jumper Tommy had gotten for her and her brother only the week before. Patrol having found five boxes in the corner of an old store a couple weeks ago.

Her lips turned down as she looked at you.

„Are you okay Mom?“ She asked, frowning.

„I think I’m a little bit sick,“ you coughed, voice hoarse.

„Oh nooo,“ she said, about to crawl into bed with you when you heard the door downstairs open and Joel calling a loud Good Morning into the house.

„Daddy’s here,“ she cried out happily before she turned around, about to run out of your room, stopping at the door, looking at you.

„Get better soon,“ she smiled before she turned around and ran down the hallway, leaving you chuckling to yourself.

You must have fallen asleep again at some point, the sun already high up in the sky when your eyes blinked open the next time. You tried to take a deep breath which only ended in another coughing fit.

You looked around the room, surprised when you found a full bottle of water on your bedside table. Next to it was one of those herbal scent candles lighted you knew one of the nurses from the clinic made in her free time and you think you could scent the eucalyptus. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

„You’re awake,“ you were startled, your head turning towards the voice, finding Joel leaning in the doorway.

„Barely,“ you croaked and he hummed.

„I got the kids to school and I shovelled the snow in front of the house. I also started some chicken soup downstairs and Tommy will get some honey so I can make you your favourite tea,“ he said and a small smile sneaked to your face.

„You remember my favourite tea?“ You asked and he looked almost insulted.

„With the amount of times you asked me to keep an eye out for honey and lemon? You bet I do,“ he winked.

You still did not know how to react to him causally mentioning things like these.

The last almost two years had been a constant back and forth on your journey to learning to trust Joel again. And he was working hard to get you to trust him again.

You had talked. A lot.

Which was so unlike the Joel you had married in Boston. He answered every question you had and apologised over and over again until you told him to stop.

Deep down you had forgiven him a long time ago, and you told him so. Because it was hard to hold a grudge over someone who had such a big part in your life.

But that did not mean things could just go back to the way they were before.

Something he agreed on. He did not want to get back to how things were. Because the way he treated you was not how a husband should treat his wife. And if you’d give him a chance to show him how he wanted to treat you if you’d let him, he’d love to have one.

That was how family dinner started.

Once per week in your house.

Once in his house.

And occasionally at Tommy and Maria’s.

In the beginning your brother joined the dinners too, still not trusting Joel completely, at least not with you and his family.

Outside of that they became quite the patrol team, becoming partners. Calvin trusted Joel to have his back and vice versa. But it took longer to gain that trust when it came to you and the kids.

You actually had one of your biggest fights with your brother when you wanted to tell Ana and Leo that Joel was their father.

It was almost a year ago.

You could see the longing in Joel’s eyes every time he was looking at the two children.

And even though it scared the shit out of you to tell them the truth and let Joel into your life like that, you knew your kids life would be better with Joel as their father.

Because above all, Joel was a Dad.

He had spoken a lot to you about Sarah and how losing her made him lose the part of himself that kept him going. That kept him human.

He told you that he felt a little like that again when he met you, when you were together. But so many things had happened that made him fear for what would happen if you were taken from him too, that he always kept you at arms length. Even though all he wanted was to just love on you.

That part of him had died, or so he thought.

Loosing you for real had made him spiral so badly, he had woken up in the FEDRA hospital with no recollection of how he got there.

Apparently while drinking himself into a coma his heart had given out and he had a heart attack.

If it wasn’t for Tess coming to pick him up for a drop he would have died.

And it was only after then that he realised how much he was the problem in the situation he was in.

Which apparently did not mean he wanted to change.

No, things got even worse before they got better, but Joel did not want to go into detail about that.

It was only after he was tasked with taking Ellie to the fireflies, you knew she was immune by now, that he felt like he was starting to heal. It was her that did it, and he told you that he was sorry he could not do it for you. That you had to live with a shell of a man.

More than once he asked you how you could ever have fallen in love with him in the first place to which you only said

„The moment I first saw you I knew that you would be it for me. It was you or no one, Joel.“

And so, a week before Joel’s birthday you had sat him down and told him that you wanted to tell Ana and Leo that he was their father.

A news that was taken with big eyes and excited shouts of „I always wanted a Daddy!“ by both of your kids when you finally told them.

Yet when a month after Ana and Leo asked you if they could have a sleepover at their Daddy’s place you found yourself agreeing only reluctantly. Frankly, you did not know what to do with yourself when your kids weren’t around. Because ever since you had given birth to them, you were never apart for more than a couple of hours.

This would be two days.

You think it was the panic of being completely alone in your house that made you agree to meet up for dinner with Nick, Jackson’s dentist.

He was in his late forties and had been in Jackson for the last five years.

And it was only after almost an hour into the dinner that you realised that he thought this was a date. A date you had said yes to.

Internally panicking you had excused yourself with a very much not existent headache, making your way to Maria and Tommy’s where you and Maria had a glass of Jackson’s first red wine and a much needed talk which made you come to the realisation that the thought of dating, let alone being together with anyone other than Joel was so foreign to you that for some reason you let Maria talk you into an actual date with Nick.

It seemed logical to you after two glasses of wine.

Something you regretted by the time the date ended and you had allowed Nick to kiss you.

You felt absolutely nothing.

Thankfully he felt the same way.

What you did not know was that Joel had seen the two of you kiss. He had been on his way to the Bison to pick up leftover cake for the kids, Ellie was at home with Ana and Leo.

It was only when Tommy walked by, watching Joel stare at the spot you and Nick had long been gone from that Joel snapped out of his trance, the cake long forgotten as he walked back to his house.

He had asked you about it the next morning, wanting to know if he still had a chance to make things right with you.

And seeing him like that, almost desperate at the thought of having lost you for good, stirred something in you.

So in a move neither you or him had seen coming, you had kissed him.

It was just a quick peck, so quick you did not even realise it happened until after when you saw Joel’s surprised expression. He just looked down at you, his lips parted in surprise. You were torn if you wanted to run out for the door or if you wanted more. So you didn’t fight him when he pulled you closer, his arm hesitantly coming to wrap around your body, his face lowering to catch your lips in a kiss that would be consuming your every waking thought in the near future.

He kissed you like you were his oxygen, and it stirred something inside of you, you thought you had forgotten.

Joel moaned when you let your fingers scratch through his hair, his whole body seemingly jumping in surprise.

Parting from your lips, he rested his forehead against yours.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he smiled at you.

„I gotta pick up the kids from school,“ he whispered and you took a deep breath.

„I know,“ you whispered back.

He pecked your lips again, before he very reluctantly let go of you.

„See you at my place for family dinner later?“ He asked, to which you only nodded. He smiled, making you laugh when he walked straight into the wall behind him, cursing under his breath.

That day was three months ago.

And while you haven’t kissed since then, you and Joel got closer. As close as possible without actually being together.

Because there was a tiny part of your brain who was still wondering if the old Joel is lurking somewhere. If he would end up hurting you again once something happened that he could not deal with. If he would lash out like a wounded animal just to push you away again.

Though deep down the last almost two years had shown you that he had changed. He was…. Content. Happy even at times. Mostly when he was with you and the kids.

Ana and Leo asking if their Daddy could live with you was not helping either.

Because you craved it.

You craved having some… domestic normalcy in this crazy world. You wanted to come home to Joel. To have dinner with him and the kids every single day. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms. You wanted to wake up with him.

You just wanted to be with him.

The tiny part in your brain just needed to shut up and let you do your thing.

When you woke up the next time to a coughing fit, the sun was setting outside. Taking a deep breath, or as deep as you could manage, you sat yourself up with a groan. You went in the bathroom to do your business before you grabbed your fluffy bathrobe, Joels birthday gift to you, and slowly made your way downstairs.

You could hear Leo asking something when you made it down the stairs. Following his voice you walked towards the kitchen, a smile sneaking to your lips at the picture that you walked into.

Joel was sitting at the kitchen table together with Leo, Ana on his lap. He had his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, as he helped Ana use one of the cookie cutters to make the perfect cookie, a big sheet of dough on the table.

Looking through the kitchen you could see that he must have prepared the whole dough that you had intended to make for the baking session tomorrow. There was a big pot on the stove which probably would be the chicken soup he mentioned earlier. And to top it all off it looked like he had fixed the blinds of the kitchen window.

„Mommy is awake,“ you heard Joel say and you looked back at your little family, sitting at the table.

Leo and Ana were grinning at you, just like Joel, all three showing the dimple in their cheeks.

„Are you feeling better mommy?“ Ana asked and you nodded.

„A little. I might feel even better after I eat something,“ you said and she nodded.

„You should have some of the soup Dad made. It’s super yummy,“ Leo perked up and you smiled.

„I think I will,“ you said, walking over. You were about to grab a bowl to put some soup in when you heard Joel get up.

„Sit. I’ll bring you some,“ he whispered as he walked by, his hand coming to rest on your hip as he did. You nodded, too tired to fight him before you walked and sat down at the table.

„Daddy made so much dough, we can make our own cookies,“ Ana said, carefully picking up the cookie she had just cut out, setting it down on the baking sheet.

„I didn’t even know Daddy could make dough. Or…. Cook anything really,“ you said.

„I have some hidden talents you do not know about,“ Joel winked as he sat a bowl of soup down you wish you could smell. It looked delicious and you gave him a small smile.

„You gotta tell me about those hidden talents some time,“ you said and he nodded with a mischievous grin.

„Will do. Now eat. You gotta get better,“ he said before he sat back down to make some more cookies.

This is what you wanted.

You wanted to have everyone you loved under one roof. You wanted Joel to never leave.

You were back in bed after dinner, reading your book when you heard a soft knock on your opened bedroom door. Looking up you found Joel there, looking at you.

„Kids are in bed. I’m gonna get them tomorrow morning too, so try to sleep the cold off and get better quickly. Wouldn’t want you to miss Christmas over this,“ he said.

You nodded softly.

„Okay. Then…. Good night,“ he said, about to leave.

„Joel?“ You asked and he stopped and looked at you.

„Yeah?“

„Would you… Would you mind staying?“ You asked quietly.

Concern washed over his face immediately, walking towards you.

„Are you feeling worse?“ He asked. He knelt down beside the bed with a groan, his hand coming to rest on your forehead. You shook your head, your hand taking his and pulling it down to rest against your cheek.

„I want…. I want you to stay. Here. With me. With us. I want us to be a real family. I want to fall asleep next to you every night. I… want you to be my husband. For real this time. Because I finally feel like I know you. All of you. And I… I love you,“ you said.

Joel just looked at you.

And when he didn’t say anything you were afraid you had waited for too long to completely forgive him. Your face fell and you were about to pull away when he kissed you, surprising you.

„I love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you sighed relieved.

„I love you so much,“ he said and you carefully pushed him away.

„You gonna get sick,“ you warned and he huffed a teary laugh.

„I don’t care. Through sickness and in health, remember baby?“ He asked.

„We actually never said those vows,“ you reminded him and he hummed.

„That’s why I’m gonna ask you to marry me. For real this time. But not now,“ he said and your eyes widened, your head shaking.

„We are already married Joel. You don’t have to ask me.“

„Oh but I do. Because if we do this, I want to do this right. Fresh start. I wanna speak my vows in front of everyone who wants to listen because I will spend the rest of my life loving you the way I should have from the start,“ he said and you felt yourself tear up.

„But not now. Now I want you to get better so I can take you out to show you the surprise I’ve been working on,“ he said and you smiled.

„Surprise?“ You asked, he nodded.

„I have been working on a surprise for you and the kids, and it’s finally ready,“ he brushed his hand over your cheek.

„Now I wanna knowwww,“ you pouted and he smiled.

„You will,“ he promised.

„Joel?“

„Yeah?“

„Will you hold me?“ You whispered and his expression softened before he nodded.

Minutes later you were laying in bed, Joel behind you, his arms around you.

„Thank you for giving me another chance at loving you,“ he whispered against your ear.

„Don’t waste it,“ you hummed, already half asleep.

„I won’t,“ he promised before you both fell asleep.

#my fic #invisible string series #joel miller #joel miller x fem. reader #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #tlou fanfiction

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enviedear · 3 months ago

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Could you imagine just... life with Jason? You're considering buying a home so you snuggle up on the couch and watch House Hunters to learn about each other's taste in homes. Judging the outdated bathrooms and the layout of the furniture together. Of course Jason would want to give you anything, but baby, he is not maintaining a pool for you. You guys go furniture and you're sure the couch you want will fit. "It'll fit. I *measured*" "Babe, we live in a home that is at least 100 years old. Measuring means nothing." "It'll fit. - At home - "Okay, so it doesn't fit..." "I told you."

When a pipe is leaking and Jason is there assuring you he can fix it, but it has been weeks and he is ticked off because the leak keeps migrating and no matter what he does it KEEPS LEAKING, but he refuses to call someone for help. So you're forced to smuggle a plummer in the odd hours he isn't home and be like "dude. You gotta make this quick. My boyfriend can never know you were here." Then give Jason a kiss because yay! He fixed the leaking pipe! You need just a few items at the store. A quick in-and-out situation and Jason tags along lost minute. You're skeptical that he won't slow you down but so far you've made good time. He can reach the top shelve so you don't look silly climbing on the shelves which helps... until you stupidly walk near the book section and now you know you're never leaving. Maybe one time he gets really mad on a call or had a rough patrol and snaps (not at you) and just punches the wall. So now you have a random picture frame on the wall that does not fit the rest of your home, but it was the only one that covered the weird sized dent. Or his blood stained the floor so now there is an awkward rug in the hallway, but you don't want to have to explain the blood to your guests. Or when you're pregnant with your first child and your cravings at 3AM are bringing you to tears. Jason has literally looked everywhere in Gotham, but can't find the special edition ice-cream flavor you crave and he's freaking out a little bit. He has to go to Alfred and hope he can re-create it. (he can because I believe Alfred and do anything) I dunno. I like daydreaming and imagining what it would be like with Jason as I go through my day and watch other people. >///<

omg nonnie this was all so beautiful thank you thank you for sending this in!!

You're considering buying a home so you snuggle up on the couch and watch House Hunters to learn about each other's taste in homes. Judging the outdated bathrooms and the layout of the furniture together. Of course Jason would want to give you anything, but baby, he is not maintaining a pool for you.

STOPPPP!!! watching hgtv and all the shows—do we think he's a chip and joanna gaines stan? he can be a proponent for no pool but idc...mama wants her pool.

YUPP! and then winter hits and a pipe bursts—you're snowed in with him and his aggravation toward your home's pipes. and the whole time he's muttering, "this worked last time..."

Or when you're pregnant with your first child and your cravings at 3AM are bringing you to tears. Jason has literally looked everywhere in Gotham, but can't find the special edition ice-cream flavor you crave and he's freaking out a little bit. He has to go to Alfred and hope he can re-create it. (he can because I believe Alfred and do anything)

this is so real because as a girl with a favorite ice cream flavor that was discontinued (jeni's lemon buttermilk) but truly—jason would just be such a sweet and dependable lover. he's not a perfect person, but i do think it'd be easy to build a perfect life with him <3

#—askolivia !#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd thoughts

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jeanbie · 11 months ago

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SWEET UNWIND ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampies, foodplay, grumpy & sunshine, fem!reader, piv sex, silent sex (little dialogue) | wc: 6.1k

note: proudly inspired by the insatiable thoughts i had while watching charles bake his cake and kill people in "the brothers sun". also i got cheated on and felt horny, so turned to my favourite cartoon man for relief

⏤ When Levi's not working, he likes to take things slow, and as of late, he's found that baking desserts is an excellent way to unwind. Yesterday, he made a beautifully sweet strawberry drizzled cake with cream. On today's menu, his personal favourite: cream pie.

Gangnam, Seoul; five to midnight, the city turning in for the night as bold and bright lights flicker to life, the streets lined with neon glows that on the waterfront look like blurry fireworks. While constant lines of traffic come and go, honking and revving at the lights as they hurry to wherever they need to be next, Levi switches off the egg-timer that blares to life loudly and sets it down on the kitchen island.

Behind him, baking in the oven with a warm and golden glow, is the sponge for his lemon drizzle cake. He glances up at the TV screen across the room and watches as one of the contestants drizzles extra veins of lemon curd across a wide canvas of white meringue cream, then looks back at his own display of ingredients.

First, he heads to the oven and using the oven glove, he pulls down the door and extracts his top sponge layer. Immediately, Levi sets it aside to cool — too hot and the dollop of cream that will spread into his smooth centre will melt and dribble off like water.

When Levi’s not working, he likes to take things slow, and as of late, he’s found that making desserts is an excellent way to unwind. It’s a simple step-by-step process where the final product produces something he can feel proud of, and something he can enjoy with a cup of tea or even something stronger.

He’s found over the last three years or so of baking that a hard liquor blends well with cheesecake, one with crumbled biscuits as a garnishing layer. Bailey’s accents any type of chocolate dessert almost too perfectly, and even does well inside of one. Last Christmas, for example, Levi enjoyed a whole chocolate truffle infused with the alcohol all to himself.

Baking takes a level of concentration that actually requires very little of him, and being able to see something he’s made all on his own at the end of it all can often be more rewarding than the stakes in the real world, outside of his entirely too fancy penthouse apartment. His job is often too demanding, too vicious, but coming home with a bag of ingredients that will eventually transform into something beautifully delicious feels like he’s turning a switch and stepping out of one life into another.

Outside, out there in the harsh city, Levi Ackerman is a force to be reckoned with, a danger to those outside of his inner circle. But here, inside his home, his fortress, he doesn’t have to be anybody but himself — Levi Ackerman, the man, the neighbour, the dessert enthusiast.

Now that the sponge has cooled and the decorations have been sliced and prepared, Levi takes to assembling his own version of the British Bake Off lemon drizzle cake. Instead of it being baked as a tray bake, Levi’s followed the same style as Mary Berry herself; circular, smooth and comfortably petite.

He takes the cream he prepared before and slaps it with a wet plop on the bottom layer of sponge, smoothing it out with the flat-knife until he’s satisfied with the coverage. Then, he uses a spiral technique to create a lemony blend to bite into.

He spares a single glance at the swirling iron staircase leading up to the upper floor of his apartment when he hears movement, a simple and quiet rustle of sheets and an equally low-volume groan — a stretch of some kind. Then, he looks back at his cake and sets the top sponge over the finalised inner workings of his cake and gets to work on the pipework and decorations.

It is so easy for him to get lost in the craft. One minute rolls into five and rolls into ten as he perfects the lemon slice arrangement on top of the cake. He even prepared some lemon gratings beforehand and uses them as a powdery layer on top of the smoothed out blanket of cream. Once everything is in place, Levi looks back up at the TV and watches the contestants present their final results to the judges.

Back and forth — his eyes move from their cakes to his. He thinks his cake would have earned him Star Baker that week, that’s for certain.

Even though Levi chooses to bake after work to dispel the tension building up in his bones, he still doesn’t feel completely satisfied with his work today. The cake is as good as he can get, especially when it’s his first real attempt at a lemon drizzle. But an ache lingers in his shoulders, a buzzing feeling of discomfort in every joint and muscle.

Today has just been extra hard. One dessert won’t suffice.

After a long haul of tracking down one of the leaders of a local crime organisation known as the Hannam Tigers, and successfully putting a few of his henchmen in early graves, Levi knows that one small cake won’t be enough to satiate his irritation for the night. In his line of work, things went wrong sometimes, even when they were annoyances he could do without.

The Hannam Tigers operate in a network of highly trained men with highly decorated backgrounds, and even with Levi’s colourful skillset, it can be a challenge to rid them from the world.

Levi rinses his hands under the tap and uses a cloth to dry them, catching the final portion of the competition on TV before tossing the cloth to the side and dumping his utensils into the sink. For now, he focuses his attention on the assortment of ingredients he’s set to the side to make his all time favourite dessert.

But first, he’ll need to head upstairs.

With what he needs in his hands, Levi escapes the kitchen before it swallows him into creating more and more desserts and then climbs the staircase curling up into the upper floor. Up here, there is a study that he barely uses — not because of his incompetence to utilise it, but instead for a general lack of need, considering he prefers a much more physical and hands-on approach to what he sensitively calls his ‘career’ — a small bathroom and his bedroom, which he heads for and catches a glimpse of the glistening city from the window inside, the door ajar.

Inside, he takes a few steps forward and sets his things down, looking up to make out your shape in the swamp of black bedsheets. He can barely see you in the dark, but you groan and make your presence known, sitting up on your elbows to peer at his silhouette cast by the light from the hallway.

“You finished your cake?” you ask, your voice tired but nonetheless sweet, caring, genuinely curious.

Levi makes out your face in the dim light and waits until his vision settles. Once he sees you more clearly and sees the smile on your face, he nods simply and looks back down at his messy pile of ingredients.

You arch up a little higher to see what he’s looking at.

“Bring any for me?”

Levi doesn’t look up. “No.”

“Rude,” you reply, amused and unable to make out what he’s arranging neatly on the ottoman at the bottom of the bed. “I happen to like lemon drizzle.”

He knows. That’s why he picked that episode to watch, those ingredients at the store.

“I don’t,” he replies. Levi’s not a fan of lemon anything, really.

The door behind him creaks ever so slightly, the light widening across the room. You sit up straighter, watching him as he falls into a carefully analysed breakdown of his mystery items.

“Can I have some later?” you ask, filling the silence with conversation. If you strain, you might make out the next episode of Bake Off beginning to play, but you search for Levi’s signature noises instead; his silent yet attentive laughs from his nose, the grunts under his breath, unbothered hums of his attention and or interest.

Levi looks up then, and rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. His blazer is downstairs hanging off one of the bar stools under the kitchen island, his shoes by the door. Now, he’s just dressed in whatever he came home wearing — there hadn’t been time to change, what with you slumbering like a princess in his bedroom.

It’s a good thing he likes you, otherwise the lights would have been on and his work clothes off. Instead, he left you to it, heading for the kitchen when he came home and switching on his complimentary British Bake Off episode to accompany him in his regular routine of baking.

“I only made it for you,” he tells you.

You arch an eyebrow — not that he can see, anyway. “Oh, really?”

He gives you a hum, thoughtless. You rearrange yourself under the sheets.

“I thought the whole point was to eat the dessert yourself after making it,” you say, filling the quiet moment with something as he skims his gaze over the ottoman again.

He doesn’t look up when he says, “Well, I haven’t finished baking yet.”

“Oh?” you reply. “Something else cooking?”

“Yes,” he says. Then, he rounds the bed slightly from the right and whilst looking at you, he climbs up onto the bed with his knees.

“What’re you making?” you question, a grin widening over your face as he looms near. You feel his hand just miss your leg under the sheets as he lays his hands flat on the bed, lifting his weight closer to you all whilst maintaining an unnaturally cool composure.

If you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he was bored by the entire exchange. His face is covered in shadows, and yet you can still see the slipping shift of something in his eyes as they catch in the light from the windows.

Levi’s face reanimates in the city lights, now not far from your own. He curls his fingers around the bedsheet and tugs it down, exposing your legs to the cool shift of temperature in the bedroom. You shudder, leaning your head back until it softly hits the wooden headboard.

“Pie,” Levi says.

“Mmm. I love pie,” you comment.

He grunts, another one of your favourite Levi-sounds.

His hand shifts from the bed to your leg. In the dark, everything feels more pronounced; his ever-so-slightly rough palm smooths across your thigh and down your leg, past the knee and down towards your ankle. Once caught in his grasp, he manages to pull you from your sloped position against the headboard and back down into the pillows. He knows you're wearing nothing else from the waist down — all the more reason to tug you down and snatch a glimpse of what he knows is his.

“What kinda pie?”

Levi finds your eyes again in the dark, and you’re not sure if he planned it, but now you can see his face in a spectrum of light. His expression is flat, toneless, yet intrigue dances across his eyes as they wander across your face, down past your neck, and down to the exposed skin of your chest from underneath one of Levi’s shirts you stole from his drawers.

He says nothing for a moment. Using both hands and releasing your ankle, Levi presses his hands against your abdomen, running them up underneath the shirt until he reaches your sternum, the sloping sphere of your breasts against his fingertips. His eyes flick up to yours as he pushes the shirt all the way up over your breasts, and uses his body to part your legs until your knees are on either side of his hips.

The weight of his gaze makes you squirm slightly.

He blinks. Licks his bottom lip so quickly you almost miss it and says very simply, “Cream.”

Your grin widens.

Levi lowers his face to your stomach, his lips pressing against the skin above your belly button. Immediately, as if practised, your hands jump up to his head of hair, your fingers threading through it as he works his mouth down from your stomach to the damp space between your legs.

A home within a home; a place he loves to push his face into when he’s had a particularly long day.

Levi doesn’t even have to put in any effort anymore. You quite contently lift your calves up over his shoulders, widening them enough to feel his lips circle around your clit, two fingers widening your folds so he can stuff his face with your cunt.

Coating your clit with a layer of wetness, he replaces his lips with his right thumb and moves his fingers, using his tongue to part you down the middle, and making you writhe against the bed with a satisfied moan.

He’ll admit it to nobody but himself — he’s missed you. You’ve missed him, too, and the way it feels when he rubs his thumb against your nub in careful circles and plunges two fingers up your cunt. Levi could fool himself all he liked with the fantasy that baking a cake was enough to relieve his pent up stress from work, but nothing quite works to ease the burden like a face full of his favourite girls’ pussy.

Levi’s left hand drifts from your stomach to your thigh, smoothing over the top before curving down and round to the inner of your legs, his forearm wrapped around you comfortably and effectively locking you in place. He likes to watch the wetness pool between your legs as he gorges himself on your taste, but today he closes his eyes and closes his lips around you, tasting every inch of you like you’re his own slice of dessert, his favourite kind. Topped and served with a string of elated moans, just the way he likes it best.

“Mmf—!” There’s not a lot for you to say, nothing you can conjure up from the air gasping in your throat as Levi’s tongue licks laps around your clit, his thumb just shy to the side as he leaves a wet present for him to massage into your skin, his mouth very quickly preoccupied by the space neglected beneath.

As his fingers curl up inside of you, then widen apart, your calves drop as if you’re trying to pull Levi closer to your body, and in turn he pushes his left arm down on your thigh and drags you with a smooth motion down the bedsheets and closer to his mouth. Your head arches back with the angled slope of your back, reaching up off the mattress in a coordinated performance of pleasure, and Levi finds the time to open his eyes and look up over your stomach and breasts to find your face; mouth agape and lids closed, gasping silently into the dark.

Yeah. Out of all the desserts he could possibly create in his kitchen, he’d probably have to confess that his favourite one was one that could be made in the bedroom.

Your hands take fistfuls of his hair and feeling the hot flatness of his tongue in the space between your clenching hole and your clit, you find your hips grinding up into his mouth, the slight nudge of his teeth making you squirm even harder beneath him. Levi’s no longer phased by the aching tightness of your fingers woven in a knot on his head. Whenever your fingers twitch and the clutch on his hair tightens, Levi knows he’s doing something right.

Every lick and nip against your cunt is matched by a groan, and as you ride the dampness between your legs against his lips, your voice thins out into a raspy nothingness. Your mouth is dry with the air of the bedroom, your eyes forcing themselves to close when they try and open to peer down at the man snug between your thighs.

Levi feels a mixture of wet substances around his mouth and on his chin, but before he can grant you the pleasure of cumming down his throat, he pulls back.

The emptiness of the space between your legs is jarring, and almost immediately you sit up. Your hands drop from his hair and fall onto the bed, which you use to lift up your shaking body to watch as Levi leans back on his knees and retreats to the forgotten ottoman. It is only when he rises to his feet to observe the array of secret items displayed for his eyes only that you realise Levi is still wearing every article of clothing he was before.

“What’re you doing?” you ask him, finally finding your voice as he arches over and fiddles with something that sounds plastic.

You catch the shine of your own arousal on his chin as he scans the catalogue of items.

“Preparing dessert,” he replies.

Your brows quirk, but when Levi stands upright and begins to shake something with his left hand, you feel your heart and its fast beating plunge straight to your stomach. A knot wells and tightens, and you bite a moan back and feel your thighs coming together like a magnet in anticipation.

Levi is shaking a bottle of whipped cream.

It shouldn’t surprise you nor excite you the way that it does. Levi has always had reservations about whipped cream — it should be from a bottle or made in a bowl; exclusively used as a side for a tart or cake slice, as a topping on a pancake, as the twist of sweetness on top of a hot chocolate. Levi doesn’t use whipped cream on his desserts in the same way he does as an accessory to the bake, but today — tonight, it seems as though he has found another valuable use for his generally unused bottle of whipped cream.

“This is new,” you say, feeling your ass lift off the bed as you struggle to contain your writhing excitement. Levi tests the nozzle; a burst of white cream spits out onto his finger, and without looking away he puts his finger in his mouth with all the nonchalance of a chef tasting his dish as he makes it. “I thought you didn’t like bottled cream on your desserts.”

“I like it on some things,” he replies. “First rule of baking is that you never feel afraid of trying something new.”

You hum thoughtfully as he retakes his position on the bed. It should make you laugh with the way he looks down at you while slowly twisting the bottle from left to right, but it doesn’t; it only makes you breathe heavier, your pulse quickening and legs opening as if on automatic and letting him take the space he’s claimed between them.

“They do say that it goes well with pies,” you say finally, watching as he angles the nozzle down on your stomach. The placement, if nothing else, has surprised you, and you suppress a moan of eagerness when he presses down and watches with a newfound intensity as the spiral of white cream pools out onto your skin. He’s cautious with the amount; just a small bud of cream, enough to swallow in just a mouthful.

Levi leans himself forward and pauses just before he can lick the dollop up off your tummy.

“Clue’s in the name,” Levi replies, and with his eyes boring into your own, he presses his lips around the blob of cream and mouths it up off your body. It is entirely too fast, your jaw slacken as he pulls away, as if gauging your reaction. The yearning expression on your face has the nerve to almost look endearing to him.

He swallows. “Sweet.”

He receives from you something sounding like a whimper. Then, his finger is back on the nozzle and using the cream, he creates a trail from where he last was all the way down to your clit.

You feel yourself clench when the cool texture of the cream sits in a melting bundle on your bud, and your teeth bury themselves into the flesh of your lower lip, biting down with extra force when Levi’s mouth shifts down to your clit and in one teasingly slow strip, he licks the trail of sweet cream up from your cunt to the wet spot on your stomach.

With his tongue, your back arches up off the bed, your knees by his shoulders. Levi is uncomfortably aware of the pooling arousal between your legs, his own forming tightness in his trousers. Watching you writhe with a glistening shine getting more and more pronounced so close to his face has proven to be exactly what he needed to unwind today, but he’s still not quite satisfied.

He’s not ignorant to the way your hips meet with the empty space he leaves when he moves away again, as if fucking an imaginary cock or grinding against an invisible set of hips. He uses his right hand to press you back flat against the bed and savours every second of your aroused moaning when he slathers your cunt with the cream, leaving no wet patch untouched.

He watches with only minimal irritation when the cream slips down your folds into a white pool on the sheets — his sheets — but he takes its sliding as a sign to move back in.

Levi licks the cream up as if it isn’t even there; it’s as if he’s taking gulps of you like it’s nothing, licking every inch of the cream and enjoying the wonders of your pleasure as you cry out above him. His nose brushes against the hidden bump of your clit, the feeling of his hot tongue making your toes curl behind his back, your fingers clenching around the sheets.

Ordinarily, you may have laughed at the sight of his lips coated in a white sheen, the cream on the tip of his nose, but today you can find nothing to laugh about. Every unit of energy is devoted to the tightening clench of your cunt, the tingling warmth growing inside of you as Levi wipes his nose and rises off the bed and onto his feet, right where the ottoman stands as a barrier between you.

He lets you play out your imaginary fantasy, rolling your hips into the empty vacuum of space where he was just situated and uses his hands to undo the belt around his waist. His trousers fall with an effortlessness when he undoes the front button, and he compels himself to watch you stare at him with a lustful gaze as he pulls his trousers down to his ankles. He decides he’ll keep his shirt on — it’s only fair, since you’re still wearing his, albeit the fabric is bunched up under your neck in the way he likes it.

He mounts the bed once again and meets you when you moan expectantly, and relishes in the sharp intake of your breath when he takes your right leg and folds it to the side. You look at Levi over your shoulder, your neck to the side as he presses you down with his left hand and uses the right to hold his cock.

You are once again reminded of how truly lucky you are to have a man like Levi; a man who needs nothing but your cunt in his face to get his cock standing rigid against his lower stomach.

You swallow a moan when Levi pokes the tip of his cock against your fluttering entrance, and when his eyes catch yours, the sharpened edge of his grey eyes staring straight into your own, you can’t catch the cry of pleasure that escapes when he pushes himself into you, feeling you wrap around the tip of him like your cunt is a mouth on its own.

Levi watches you gasp as if pained and he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up. You’re wet enough,” he says in a low tone.

“Hmf—!” And then the length of his cock is buried inside of you, only proving his point.

There’s nothing to explain the way it feels when he’s stuffing your hole: it’s as if he was made for you, a perfect fit to make you whole. Even with virtually nothing to ease the slip into your pussy, there’s no agonising stretch, no painful play — just a wholeness that feels as natural as anything else in the world.

Levi’s fucked you so many times that he might as well claim he lives up here, and each time he makes himself at home, he’s welcomed with open arms and a swallowing gulp. He pushes his hips all the way against you, until the underneath of your thigh is squished against his stomach and you feel the slight slap of his balls against your ass.

He’s never quite fucked you from this angle before, but it’s not unwelcome in the slightest. He wraps his wrist around your thigh and holds the front of it with his hand, his left coming to hold the sinking curve of your waist, which he uses to push you further into the mattress.

Every time his dick sinks further inside of you, you let out a moan — he moves in and out so fast it’s as if he’s trying to keep your noise at a constant speed, never wanting to be left in a silence.

Levi looks down at you as he fucks, no longer interested in the way his dick disappears into the dripping darkness of your cunt and instead entirely devoted to mapping out the pleasure on your face. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, but everything he loves to see.

His hips rock against you, his shoulders tensing as you clench furiously around his length. Surely you don’t mean to be coaxing him into an early finish — surely you wouldn’t be rushing him along when he’s trying to enjoy his dessert.

The tip of Levi’s dick kisses your insides, but from this angle and the burning heat pooling in your abdomen, you don’t know if he’s hitting your cervix or deeper into your literal stomach. Levi’s fucked you from all different angles in every corner of his house, but he feels extra large today. The darkened edge of his eyes might be deceiving you, the sticky residue of cream still on your skin.

You’re almost vibrating with pleasure as he fucks you, and all you can do is stay pinned to the bed like a doll and gasp out your praises.

Like most fucks with Levi, he says nothing besides, “Fuck,” in a dragged out, strangled type of way. He likes to make you suffer by dragging it out for as long as humanly possible, just to see you writhe and cry underneath him, your pussy pink and pulsing, begging for him to stop.

Today, however, luck looks to be on your side.

Unlike normal, Levi has little desire to unravel you into a sobbing mess. All he wants today is to fuck the brains out of his girlfriend and watch as her cunt fills with his cum.

Levi’s fingers clench into your skin, and for a second he closes his eyes in an effort to ride it out just a little bit longer before filling you up. When he feels your hand wrap around his wrist like a vice, his eyes fly open to look at you; you’re curled up, sunken in the bed, contorted into his favourite shape.

Levi spares a glance at his cock swallowed up in your hole and watches with pride as he thrusts in and out of the wetness, and after a stuttering sequence of your hips jerking and mouth falling open with the release of some of his all time favourite sounds, Levi devours the sight of white squeezing from around his dick.

He feels his throat catch. He’ll let you have that one.

Around the quivering clenches of his cock, Levi shudders and lets you squeal until you’ve run dry. He runs his fingers across the width of your connection and smooths the cum between his fingers. Then, without giving you the satisfaction of catching your breath, Levi continues his thrusting which gives him the continued pleasure of hearing you squeal and cry, your free hand reaching to the slip of sloping skin above your pussy as if you were trying to suppress the feeling rippling through you.

Long forgotten are the fingertips pressing bruises into your skin, but each thrust of his dick hitting the same spot inside you is met with an exhausted groan. Finally, when you’ve gathered the energy and courage to look up and around your body at his face, Levi lets slip what you think might be a satisfied smile, and he falters.

Ropes of warmth fill your cunt, and you hear Levi moan, loudly, and he unwraps his wrist from your leg and holds the base of his dick with his right hand. Carefully, he pulls himself out, save for the tip which remains snug in your hole, leaving no space untouched by his seed. He watches with wonder at the way your hole gapes around his cock like a mouth, swallowing his cum up until it billows out. Finally, he slips out of you, staring down at the oozing, swollen hole that is pulsing with cum.

For a while, he stares at it, breathing loudly as he waits for all of his cum to squirt out of you; it’s like squeezing a cream doughnut and watching the sickeningly sweet contents slide out.

Levi glances back up at you, amazed that you’ve been bold enough to watch him until the end, and he pats your waist appreciatively before rolling you back so that you’re flat on the sheets, legs apart, cunt wide.

Time to taste.

You watch as his head disappears between your legs, but he leaves no element of mystery. Your body almost jumps up off the mattress when his tongue pushes into your gaping entrance, lapping at the mixture of your cum and his and whatever else he can catch a taste of while he’s savagely licking down there.

Barely having the energy to pretend to stage a protest, you elect for moaning your approval and tiredly rake your hand through his hair again, pushing it from his forehead as you stare half-lidded at the crown of his head.

You lose count of how long Levi remains nestled down there. The only way you notice he’s no longer there is by the way he sweeps his hands down your legs and lays them flat, making note of every twitch and quiver your body makes.

Staring up at Levi and reluctantly forcing your body back up on your elbows, you grin up at him as he licks his top lip and appears thoughtful.

“Yeah,” sighs Levi, sniffing once in the way he does when he’s trying to fall back into his characteristic charade of coolness. “Homemade cream tastes better.”

Unable to argue, you heave out a laugh and meet his gaze.

“You’re fucking greedy,” you say, but that he actually does smile at.

“So what,” he replies, reaching for another one of the items on the ottoman; a cloth from downstairs that he uses to wipe the mess between your thighs, “we both know I like cream pies. I even shared.”

You flinch when he dabs the cloth against your still-sensitive pussy. You take it from him to finish the honour, meanwhile Levi gathers the bottle of cream and whatever else he brought and never used before opting to watch you shift the cloth between your legs, throwing it back at him in a forced huff. He catches it effortlessly.

“Whatever,” you say, very slowly moving across the bed to the floor. The wooden slabs are cold beneath your feet. “I’m sure your lemon drizzle is miles better.”

Levi shakes his head affectionately and moves to meet you face-to-face when you stand on your feet. He hums when he gets there and strokes his finger down your arm, charming his way into your arms and once he’s close enough to your face, he allows a smile to warm over his features.

He dips his head to greet your lips with a kiss, the first of the day since he left you in the morning.

“Trust me when I say,” Levi says when he pulls away, his expression amused as he croons his finger under your chin and quickly leaves another kiss on your mouth, “I very much doubt that.”

#aot #attack on titan #snk #aot imagine #levi aot #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #levi imagine #levi ackerman imagine #attack on titan imagine #levi baker au #jeanbie #ittojean

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richarlotte · 6 months ago

Note

Most important steps to your glow up?

Top Tier.

Braces.

I had my braces on for 18 months, and they were the best decision of my life. I can breathe better, my jaw and chin look better, my teeth are straighter, and I have no more pain. Facial harmony is everything, and mine was restored by an expert orthodontist and continued use of my retainers. Jaw surgery wasn’t reasonable or necessary, but I can’t even begin to describe the impact that dental whitening, braces, weight loss, and proper dental care work had on my face.

Electrolytes and Hydration.

I was severely dehydrated and in need of electrolytes for years and years. I thought that drinking enough water wasn’t as important as people made it seem, but my life changed when I started to do it. Life feels much less stressful now that I’m properly hydrated, and I make sure to toss a little lemon and salt in my water and drink a Gatorade or Liquid IV to get electrolytes.

Darker and Longer Hair.

I look better with hair that’s long, dark, and thick. I have alopecia, so I did a number of things to disguise my hair loss growing up, but I wear wigs now that my hair is gone. I was told to wear my hair long, dark, and straight last year, and whenever I do, people tell me that I look otherworldly. Now that I know what to do with my hair and what looks best, I’m a million times more confident about myself.

Less Dairy.

I am not lactose intolerant, but I do not need to be eating dairy in excess. I enjoy dairy, so I won’t cut it out of my diet, but I don’t need to be eating it in the amount that I did. I was bloated, always breaking out, and tired all the time, but my low energy dissipated the second I cut my dairy intake. I’m not 100% dairy-free and most likely won’t ever be, but I’m careful with the amount I consume.

Korean Contact Lenses.

Americans think that all colored contact lenses are unnatural, and American-made colored contacts are. I use Olens contacts and only use the dark shades, and they’re amazing. I find that having huge, dark, striking eyes helps me get exactly what I want, and I love the way I look when I’m wearing contacts. I use contacts to craft my look and emphasize my eyes, and I never buy or use colors that aren’t brown or black. Wearing dark contacts has reduced my need for so much bright eye makeup; they make me look friendlier, and I look better in photos.

Better Quality Makeup.

Investing in higher-quality makeup and actually learning how to apply it was crucial. Buying Hourglass, Pat McGrath, Charlotte Tilbury, MAC, and Nars was sort of essential to my makeup journey, and I look much better now that I’ve invested the time and money into learning about makeup. Dupes just don’t hold up to the real things, and I look better now that I’m spending $45 on one product instead of spending $45 on five different products to try to replicate the look.

Urea, Glutamic Acid, and Dry Brushing.

I used to have serious strawberry arms and legs, dry skin, and dark spots from body acne, but all of that has cleared up. Hyaluronic acid and body serums have nothing on this combo, and dry brushing has completely cleared up my rough skin and helped with my stretch marks. If you want skin that’s plump, hydrated, glowing, and looks healthy, then you have to exfoliate your dry and wet skin and start using this trio to care for your body.

Better Skincare Products.

I invested a lot in using fancy designer brands, but the things that helped me the most were basic, unscented, and quality. I use Paula’s Choice exfoliant, plenty of SPF 100, retinol, and a variety of Korean and American products. My facial acne is gone, my dark marks are cleared, my skin barrier is healed, my skin looks healthier, and I’m glowing. Drunk Elephant, celebrity skincare brands, and trending products didn’t do it for me; figuring out what I needed and then implementing it into my routine helped.

Creating my own aesthetic.

I won’t stop talking about The Blend because it helped me become who I am today. I wanted to create a look that would help me, and so I had to spend months solidifying my image. It took me a year to get to where I am today, but life became easier once I was able to figure out what I should be doing, what I should be saving for or investing in, and what suited me. The Blend isn’t just about style, and I had to be scientific with it at times and really work with the resources I had and what was readily accessible to me.

I can do Mid Tier next.

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greyyson-but-no · 4 months ago

Text

Six Years Waiting

PAIRING; tangerine x spy!oc (easy to switch in reader)

UNIVERSE; bullet train but tangerine doesn't ‼️

WARNINGS; canon-typical violence, mentions of kidnap, torture, bad flirting, they're both idiots that want each other but don't know etc, no spoilers for bullet train plot

GENRE; fluff, tad-angst

WORD COUNT; 2.9K

A/N; im back to writing? I know, insane right? hope you enjoy, I'm gonna be rejigging this account completely so here's this as a waiting gift. aaron taylor johnson what a man you are.

It was a large plaza, filled to the brim with rich American businessmen that had nothing better to do with their time then host an auction, then a party, then get drunk and coincidentally lose the prize of the auction. Her name had been spreading around the city slowly, the more auctions that ended in chaos. Brioches, treasured coins, ancient weapons and vintage prizes just… slipping out of the hands of whoever had bid the most. She hadn’t always completed stretches of thievery — it used to be far, far worse. The company she worked after had taken her down after the news of the Segovia job had reached them at HQ. Just a couple too many spare bodies. She was now in therapy.

Descending the curved staircase, black flowing from her shoulders, a prize necklace she had stolen just last week hanging from the skin of her neck. It wouldn’t be the only thing hanging from her neck in a couple hours, though. Light bounced off of the glass chandeliers, alighting this night’s prize, sitting all grandiose at the far end of the room.

She kept a sharp eye on it.

But as she got to the bottom of the staircase, the red carpet moving out into the rest of the room, another person caught her eye. One she recognized, and knew better than she knew anybody else she’d ever met.

Tangerine donned a blue suit, his classic striped one that she always compared to David Tennant’s rendition of Doctor Who. He never understood it. He had just come in through the back entrance, and had made it very obvious he wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. It was a given. Otherwise, he would have told her he would be here, when, in fact, that hadn’t happened. She assumed he had been sent on this mission last minute, to fill in for someone. Because not only had he told her tonight was his free night, but his brother, Lemon wasn’t standing by his side.

Those weren’t their real names, of course. Just the names they went by to keep their real lives hidden. Over the years, their trust grew and eventually, after she had nearly died to an assassin from another company and the two of them had to carry her back to their house to let her get better, Aaron and Brian had trusted her with their real names. In response, she had done the same. Angel, became Ophelia, to the twins.

But there was always something more special about Tangerine.

When forced to explain it to her co-workers, all Angel could come up with was, “he’s just pretty, isn’t he?”, and she couldn’t help but think he had taken this job just because she was there, too. Bullshit, she was aware, but one could always hope.

Unless… Because as she looked back up at him after answering something urgent of her watch, he had his eyes skirting down her body, and quickly made a b-line towards where she was standing. There was this look in his eyes, that she hadn’t seen before, as well. Alas, the place was so damn big, this could have just been something she was imagining, since he was still so far away.

Something in her brain was telling her to run, and it wasn’t her handler shouting in her ear, that was for sure. Instead, the voice of logic, of reason, was screaming at her to not let him speak to her tonight. Was there really any harm in it though? It wasn’t like she was attached, or anything.

When he reached her, that smile, the cunning smirk, fed its way onto his lips as he took her hand and lent down to kiss the back of her palm. Words she never thought she would ever hear him say left his lips as he did so. “Ma’am, it’s lovely to see you here, you look incredible, as always.”

Okay, maybe she was a little attached.

Angel let a laugh fall from her lips as he stood up straight again. “Tan, shut up.”

“Never, my dear.” God, he was going to be the end of her. “I’m assuming you’re here for the necklace on auction tonight?”

She nodded, searching the crowd as he moved to stand to the left of her instead. “Yes. I can assume you aren’t? You’d never take a steal like this, even if it meant you would see me again. And especially without Lemon.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not that special.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Then a pause. Angel couldn’t get the smirk to leave her face as he continued on with his reasoning of being here tonight. Moving his arm, he pointed towards one of the women sitting up in the glass balcony above where he had entered the plaza just a couple minutes ago. “Lady Francis De Marco. Owes a client a superfluous amount of money and she’s late by a couple weeks. Harsh client, let’s say. It really was just coincidence you’re here too, love.”

Angel blinked, spotting the pearl necklace falling from this women’s neck. “She’s the one selling the necklace, no?”

“Her husband.”

“So, what?” She took in a deep breath as his hand brushed up against hers. “You’re here to kill her? Or just get some answers.”

Tangerine laughed heartily. “What do you think, doll? I am an assassin.”

Angel shook her head. “Careful, don’t say it too loud, someone might be listening.”

“Nobody cares about our conversation, sweetheart, don’t worry. They aren’t listening, to us.” He calmed, looking over the crowds just as she was. The conversation came to a simple ending, a comfortable silence waving over the two… friends.

Tangerine had now known Angel for six years, and each year he struggled more and more to understand how and why she could make him feel the way he felt about her. It started in New York, they had met at something similar to this evening, and had gotten along well, much to Lemon’s dismay. A couple months later, they were both sent out to kill the same person, by different clients. They took a finger each as proof for their individual clients. Every couple months, they would bump into each other, and after the first few times, the sight of her dressed up at the party, or clad in a tight black suit while fighting some prick had him head over heels. Literally once he had nearly died because he was too busy staring at her. He had started to worry he couldn’t work around her.

Then two years ago, she had nearly been ran over by a bike while on the run from someone trying to kill her. She had been kidnapped, tortured by this guy who only wanted her because of a small job from 15 years ago. When she escaped, she found herself finding Lemon and Tangerine. That night he had found out her real name. Ophelia. He thought no name could ever be better.

Don’t worry, Lemon had told him many a time that this was an issue. He knew it very well. It didn’t mean he had to do anything about it, but it was defiantly an issue.

Tangerine coughed, clearing his throat. “What’s your plan then?”

Angel shook her head. “Was gonna figure it out as I went, personally. What about y-”

“Same.” He dropped his head, looking down at the carpeted floor. “I was only put on this job last night, so, I didn’t really have time to come up with a plan. They didn’t even tell me that it was gonna be in a place this big.”

She sighed, allowing herself to look over to him for just a second, seeing his tired cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “I keep telling you to leave your company, they’re shit.”

He shrugged, grunting. “Could be way worse, sweetheart.”

Angel was well aware there was no point in even trying to convince him to move company. He defiantly wouldn’t without Lemon, too, and a long time ago that man had gotten himself into some trouble with the CEO of said company, he hadn’t been allowed to leave since that day.

“I s’pose we better get to work then, aye?” Tangerine murmured.

Angel coughed. “Yeah. See you in a bit, Tan.”

And while Tangerine was fully convinced they were going to complete both their tasks together, he again, mumbled a small sinnabit, sweetheart as she wandered off. God, what was his problem? Why could he not just do something about this stupid infatuation with her? He constantly just let it sit, murmuring in his stomach for years and years. Was anything ever going to change? He couldn’t ever imagine it.

Only two hours later, she was dead. Tangerine had cornered her in her office nearing the end of the party, and once she had understood what the assassin was there for, she simply let it happen. Her family didn’t have the money, it was as simple as that.

Angel was the issue. Tangerine had found her outside the office, clutching the necklace in her hands, shouting at him to hurry up because they needed to leave. She really had figured it out as she went, and it had turned out for the worst. This is why she was assassin, that’s what she was trained for, not stealing.

The two were running, and fast. Down the stairs and into a storage cupboard somewhere, Tangerine was following her, and from a rucksack behind a shelving unit, she pulled out spare clothes.

“I haven’t go anything spare for you, sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay, I’ll just take my jacket and vest off, that should do.” And he paused for a moment, spotting her struggle to unzip her dress at the back. It was probably just because they were in a rush, but then again, they were definitely in a rush, any help would do. “C’mere, love.”

Angel coughed a thanks, turning around as he took a hold of the zip, tugging it downward. She brushed away the thoughts of his knuckles running down her back, her bra strap appearing behind the black fabric. This was far too intimate for her liking, and the second he reached the bottom, she turned back around, telling him to turn around so as to not see her while she changed. Just a couple seconds later, she was clad in a white shirt and dress skirt, looking as if she was a waitress. Her hair was done up this time, a neat bun at the back that to her, wasn’t neat. It would do. “We’ll leave as staff.”

“Sure. Lead the way.”

They left the closet, turning left and joining the crowd again, the necklace neatly tucked in her pocket still. Luckily they didn’t scan in and out, so they could easily just slip away from the plaza, out the front door, and no one would look none the wiser. People were even acting as if the necklace hadn’t been stolen.

But as they joined the escalator that was leading them down to the final floor, a very obvious security guard was eyeing everyone up and down. While everyone on the top floor was made to act as if nothing had gone wrong, the De Marco family had sent out more security to see if anyone was acting suspicious. Staff members that didn’t have key cards and had seemingly spawned in from nowhere? Suspicious.

Angel turned to face Tangerine again, who looked nervous having also spotted the security guard. “I could just kill him?”

“Making ourselves even more suspicious and draw attention to us? No. We need to deflect them. Making them not want to look at us.” This wasn’t the first time Angel had needed to get herself out of a situation similar to this. Tangerine, though, hadn’t.

Tangerine frowned. “And how do you expect we do that?”

She grimaced. “I’m sorry. People hate public displays of affection.”

“Public what—”

Hands around his neck, she pulled him in, lips against his own, letting it get a little too intimate for public. They just fell into it. As his tongue brushed up against her bottom lip and her knees nearly gave in, a thought occurred to her. With his hand on her waist and her arms around neck, playing with the length of his hair. This felt natural. It felt… right.

They reached the bottom of the escalator, the security guard long gone. Tangerine cleared his throat as they made their way to the exit. His car was parked just a couple blocks away, so they walked in tandem to find it. There was a silence between them that wasn’t like the one before. Somehow, they were thinking the exact same thing, without even knowing it. How do I get rid of these feelings? And yet, neither of them wanted to.

Tangerine got in the car when they found it. It was an old Rolls-Royce he refused to get rid of, which she had been in many a time. Just, this time was different. Part of her just wanted to walk home. Her company would kill her if they found out she just took a stroll home with the necklace just tucked in a pocket somewhere, but the only other option was to get in a car with him.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “You getting in or what?”

On a whim, she got in the car, sitting alongside him as he started driving off. There wasn’t a mention of who’s place they were going to, but they lived on the other side of town, and he was going in the direction of her apartment. Driving there from any point in the city was just automatic to him now. He knew how to get there from anywhere.

It wasn’t a long drive. Soon enough, they were parked in the blocks car park, and were heading up the elevator to the 12th floor, where her flat was. When the door was swung open, Angel flicked the low lights on, kicking her heels off as Tangerine helped himself to a cup of tea. He was good at telling whether she wanted to be alone or not, and from her relaxed form she had taken on the sofa, he gathered he could stay for a bit. Not too long, he wouldn’t overstay his welcome, but just for a little bit while they both recharged. Just a couple minutes later, he found himself next to her on the sofa, she automatically leant her feet on his legs as he grabbed the remote to scroll through the channels. The silence became comforting again as she watched him flick between late night shows, comedic dramas and general news channels.

Angel yawned, starting to speak as she finished. “You should probably text Lemon you’re here, he’ll worry if you don’t.”

“He’ll worry any way.” Was all he wanted to say, but the words came natural to him as he furthered. “You should go to sleep, sweetheart, you’re clearly exhausted, I can show myself out when I need to.”

She sat up, removing her feet from his lap and letting herself get that little bit closer to him. He cared. She could see it in his eyes, and it was genuine. The most genuine emotion she had ever seen him show, really. But it truly was there. Slowly, as his eyes scanned over the details and features of her face, now just as close to him again as she had been earlier when they had kissed, she reached a hand up to stroke at his cheek, seeing the dark circles around his eyes and that tired looked that seemed to follow him around everywhere. She felt his breath get heavier as he tried to avoid looking down at her lips. This was happening.

Angel sighed. “You need to take better care of yourself, Tan.”

His eyebrow twitched at her words, and he gulped. “What’s the point? I’m never going to find anyone that cares enough to force me to care about myself, and with my job I could die any day.”

“Oh, Tan…” Her thumb dragged across his chin.

He let out a breathy laugh. “What, sweetheart?”

It was only that little bit further that she had to move in order to press her lips up against his. It felt the same as last time, her hands resting against his jaw, his arms naturally, as if done a thousand times, curling around her waist, pulling her that little but closer. But this time they were doing this for themselves. They weren’t doing it for a quick escape, or to distract people, this was for them. Because for six years, these two idiots have pined for each other, and only now had something been done about it.

While all Tangerine wanted to do was ravage her, give in to all the temptations from six years of falling for this woman, he let her lead, let her keep it slow. They were both tired, they both just needed this.

As she went to pull away, he chased her lips with a couple small pecks, as if he never wanted to stop kissing her ever. Angel chuckled. “I care, so much.”

“I know.” He mumbled, looking up at her as he resting his hands on her waist tightly to pull her over onto his lap, letting her fall around him, resting his face against her neck, breathing her in and repeating the words thank you in his head, for anything to listen, grateful that he had her.

It would take a lot of work, but they were both now confidence they could maybe work together and juggle everything else. There was hope now; a reason to live.

#bullet train #tangerine #tangerine x reader #grey writes #tangerine fluff #tangerine x oc #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine fanfiction

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sebsbarnes · 1 year ago

Note

Hi there!

I first of all wanted to start off by saying that I’m absolutely obsessed with your work- it’s amazing!!

Secondly, I was wondering if I could make a request?

Can I request a tangerine x reader where they’re out at a bar or something and there’s this guy being really pervy and creepy and just won’t leave her alone?

Obviously the reader can handle herself but they just got back from a long and tiring mission, and she quite honestly doesn’t have the energy.

So of course tan comes to the rescue 🤭🤭

I hope this is okay, and if not please feel free to ignore this!!

Have a wonderful day love and don’t forget to drink lots of water <33

heey!! i really appreciate the kind words, it keeps me going! i hope you've had a good day/night and if not tm will be better! and i hope u enjoy this!

bar fight || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

warnings: harassment, fighting

word count: 1.6k+

masterlist

a/n: im drawing inspo from something that happened to me one time at a bar which will be the reason tan steps in here but of course tangerine was not there to save me although that would've been lovely

"just one pint! two, two! i swear and then we all can leave," lemon pleaded, "we can leave the second i finish it. i'll even take the last sip on the way out the door," he tried enticing you, rubbing his shoulder up and down against yours.

"i reek, lemon. and tangerine looks like he nose dived into green and purple paint," you grimaced slightly at the bruises forming on tan's face.

lemon grabbed your wrist dragging you closer to the bar doors, "is it even a real bar if at least ten people don't smell awful and your shoes don't stick to the floor?"

the color of your eyes disappeared into the back of your head, "let's go."

lemon did a little victory dance before swinging the door open which tangerine held for you to walk in. the fatigue was riddled on both of your faces. the three of you had just gotten back into town after a long and very successful mission. you were all for celebrating but tonight you'd rather celebrate with a burning hot shower.

"you 'right by yourself? i'm going to head to the balcony for a few," tangerine asked, waving his pack of cigarettes in the air.

"yeah go for it, i'll manage," you replied. tangerine gave you a small nod before turning his back and sliding outside.

the inside of the bar was packed and you were shuffling around with your shoulders pulled in to try and avoid hitting people. it was loud, smelly, and yes, the floors were grossly sticky. it only annoyed you more, but, you tried having a positive attitude about it. 'two drinks' is all you kept telling yourself. after what felt like years you made it to the bar. you were sandwiched against a girl with blonde hair and a guy who weaseled his way in between you and an older gentleman. you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your head and the last thing you wanted to do was look over, but, it was becoming too much.

"hi!" he nearly yelled as you glanced over quickly.

"hey," you said curtly, bringing your lips into a straight line.

"i'm craig. what's your name?" he asked leaning in closer to you. you gave him your name, refusing to look back at him as you felt his eyes examine you. the drink you ordered appeared in front of you and you scribbled your name on the receipt.

"what's that you're drinking?" craig asked but you pretended not to hear him as you slinked into the crowd, hoping to lose him.

it worked for a while, you found some space near a wall to stand. there was a group of girls next to you singing loudly and dancing around. you couldn't lie and say it wasn't infectious as one of the drunk girls grabbed your hand and started dancing with you, which of course you joined in. it was fun and it kept your mind off how tired your body was.

"thought i lost you there!" you flinched away, startled, by craig's nervous laughter beside you. you looked down at the man who stood inches below you and gave him an award-winning fake smile.

"you're very pretty," he said puffing his chest out slightly.

"thanks."

"you don't talk much, eh? is it because you're nervous around me?" craig asked his eyes looking down at your legs.

"just tired!" you exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, gulping down the tequila in your cup.

"you seem a bit lonely, are you by yourself tonight?" he persisted, inching closer to you with each word despite you stepping to the side each time.

"nope!" you retorted, popping the 'p' and turning to find the bathroom.

you stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes and finished your drink. the eyebags seemed to protrude out of your face as you examined them in the mirror. now, lemon had to almost be done with his drinks. that man can pound drinks back. so, with high hopes you left the bathroom to go find a seat at the bar and wait until lemon found or texted you or hopefully tangerine was done smoking.

there was a vacant stool in the dead center which you jumped on. your elbow rested against the bar, head in hand, absentmindedly watching the tv in the corner. it was a boxing match that you had zero interest in but it provided enough entertainment. you shut your eyes tight as you felt the familiar, unwelcomed, presence over your shoulder.

"look, i think you are really pretty. hotter than anyone else here and look at me. any girl would want me and the fact you're trying to play hard to get is starting to really piss me off," craig ranted but you refused to turn your head and pretended like the noise of the bar drowned his voice out.

"you're right, i'm sorry. that was rude of me, i apologize. i just noticed you the moment you walked into the bar and i needed to talk to you. you're really beautiful and i know i'd treat you right. whoever you're dating must not be treating you right because i can feel that you want me."

tangerine blew out one last cloud of smoke and tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. it was far more peaceful outside but he knew he had to go in and find lemon, who he knew was more than two drinks in and probably friends with ten more people. tangerine opened the door back into the bar and scanned the room. that's when he saw a man with his hand on your throat.

you ignored craig's presence until you no longer could. he was silent for a few moments after his rant. suddenly, you saw a hand snake into your field of vision and you felt his hand pressing firmly against your throat. you were shocked for a moment before realizing what was going on. craig's thumb and middle finger were applying harsh pressure to your throat making it hard to breathe. then, you felt the pressure shift in his hand from choking to pushing. craig pulled you to the ground by your throat, your body flying backward off the stool and slamming into the floor.

you saw a figure jump over your body and loud commotion next to you but you were too disorientated at the moment from the wind being knocked out of you. one of the bartenders leaped over the bar and pulled you up and shielded you from the commotion. that's when you realized it was tangerine who had hopped over and started beating craig to the floor. it was like a scene straight out of the boxing match you were just watching. tangerine towered over craig in height and build and the anger in his face was terrifying.

tangerine was throwing the smaller man across the bar with punches. he'd punch craig in the face to which he stumbled and then tangerine would trip him. his body would fall to the ground and tangerine would pick him up by the shirt before launching him into the now vacant stools.

"please!" craig pleaded, blood running from his eyebrow. tangerine grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the bar.

"you like hurting women? huh?" he screamed, "you think you're so tough, look at you now! fuckin' pathetic piece of shit. what? it's not fun being picked on and harassed?"

tangerine was raging. his face and chest were red with anger and the vein in his forehead pulsated. he had wild eyes similar to when he was on a mission. you watched as he slipped his hand into his pants pocket, slipping on his brass knuckles. before he was able to crush the bastard's nose lemon swooped in from behind and grabbed tangerine's bicep. the bouncers from outside grabbed craig by the neck of his shirt and kicked his bloody body out of the bar. lemon's hands were on tangerine's shoulders trying to calm his brother down. finally, tangerine's chest rose and fell at a normal pace and he turned his head and noticed you. lemon released his shoulders letting him walk to you.

tangerine cupped your face and craned his neck down a bit, "are you alright love?"

you laughed slightly uncomfortable that a big scene was made because of you, "yeah... just shocked really."

"did he hurt you in any other way?" he asked with softness.

"no. no... i didn't think it would turn into that. he had been bothering me the whole time i should've been more forceful but i was just too tired to really care," you sighed.

"no," tangerine said sternly, now eye level with you, "none of this is your fault, okay? that prick should know better than to continue to harass someone who is clearly not accepting their advances. and the fact he fuckin' put his hands on you. fuck i'll..." tangerine gritted his teeth now standing upright and looking towards the door craig was kicked out of.

"tan! no. you getting arrested is not worth it. i'm okay, okay? he got what he deserved and i really don't want to be here any longer," you pleaded, grabbing onto his forearm to force him to look at you.

tangerine caressed your head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger. tangerine guided you outside and when the door shut he pulled you into a tight but gentle hug, mindful of your back.

"i'm so fuckin' sorry love. i should've stayed with you the whole night," he whispered into your hair.

you pulled back from the hug, "mmm no, hey, hey- that's not what we are going to do. you have nothing to be sorry for and i'm thankful for you and not just now when you beat dickheads up for me, but always."

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bbrissonn · 1 year ago

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭? - 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

summary: in which you tell the tucrotte boy about your relationship

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting

warnings: couple of swear words, not proofread,

pairing: luke hughes x y/n zegras (lemon au)

wc: 1.7k

previous masterlist next

-MID JUNE '23-

Being Trevor’s little sister, Alex Turcotte was no stranger to you, no he was practically another brother to you. The two hockey players have always been close during their NTDP days, but their bond only grower closer and deeper as they arrived in their neighboring cities to start their professional hockey careers. At first, the two were always together, getting tattoos at the same time, something you teased them about, going to check out cars, everything they did, the other was right next to him.

Over the time, your own friendship with the Chicago native grew, and he was the first person you’d talk to whenever you had problems you didn’t want your actual brothers to know about. He was one of the first to know about your new friendship with the youngest Hughes, the defenceman also seeing the Turcotte boy as an older brother since he lived with them for two years. It was safe to say Alex was over the moon when he found out his “adopted little siblings”, as he liked to call the two of you, were finally friends.

When you and Luke got together, you both wanted to tell Alex more than anyone else, but you both knew how bad he was at keeping secrets, getting too excited about them and blurring them out without even noticing. So, it was a mutual decision to not tell him before your brothers, not wanting him to tell your real siblings about your relationship.

You were pretty good at acting like nothing was going on whenever he’d question you about the Hughes boy, but for Luke, that was a different story. The boy stuttered everything he’d have to answer the simplest question about you, how you were doing, how your classes were, it all made Luke so nervous.

The worst time was when Alex called him while the two of you were studying in his room together, you could hear his voice coming from Luke’s phone speaker slightly, holding back a laugh as you heard your name being said. Your boyfriend looking at you with wide eyes, stuttering over his words as he informed the Turcotte boy that you were right next to him.

Their call ended with Alex asking the young boy to tell you he’d be calling soon, and Luke waisted no time hanging the phone and letting out a loud sigh as a laugh erupted from you. For the next week or so, you took every chance you got to tease him about how nervous he was, his face growing red everytime you’d mention it.

Now, here you sat on the dock of Jack and Quinn’s home in Michigan, your feet barely touching the water as birds sang in the air, the sound of the family a couple of houses over swimming being heard. It was early in the morning, none of the boys were up yet, having stayed up late last night considering today was a day off, meaning you had peace and quiet for what felt like the first time in almost a week.

You had been invited by the middle Hughes brother months ago when they were planning this, before you and Luke we’re even together, still in the early stage of your friendship. But, even if Jack hadn’t personally invited you, Luke would’ve asked you to come, or Trevor would’ve dragged you there, tired of hearing Cole complain about how excited he was to see his favorite Swifty, the boy deciding to buy you tickets to the show in Detroit for your birthday.

You had now been a resident of the Hughes’ brothers lake house for almost two weeks now, and sneaking around the boys had been pretty easy so far. They weren’t the smartest out there, and they also just never knew what was going on around them, making it pretty easy for you two to sneak around at night or even during the day. You and Luke both thought you were doing amazing at keeping your relationship a secret from the boys, well at least from his brothers and Cole, Alex though, he was different.

Whenever you and your boyfriend would be sitting next to each other on the boat, casually talking, the boy would always be looking over at the two of you. You ignored it though, thinking it was probably just weird for him to actually see the two of interacting for the first time, but that all quickly changed the night before your brother was supposed to arrive in Michigan.

You were sitting at the end of the dock, your feet barely touching the water as your eyes were stucked on the sunset in front of you. The lake was quiet, it always was during this time of day, most families either eating a late dinner outside or already starting a firecamp, which is what the boys were doing at the moment.

Firecamp time mainly included them arguing about who got to do what, and at first you would just watch and laugh, but eventually you grew tired of their childish bickering and decided the dock would be where you spent your time while you waited for them to do done. You liked to consider it your alone time for the day, considering the house was never silent until everyone went to sleep and the noise would start again early in the morning before they left to train.

You used the hours they were gone to sleep, since sleep hand’t came until the early hours of the morning staying up late in Luke’s room until the boy fell asleep before slipping back into yours, that you’d soon be sharing with Trevor.

“Hey.” Alex said, sitting down next to you. His voice made you jump slightly, lost in your thoughts, a small chuckle leaving his mouth at his reaction. “Sorry.”

“You’re good.” You told him, smiling slightly at him before focusing back on the sight in front of you.

“You okay?” The boy asked after a couple of minutes of silence, his words making you look over at him with a confused look on your face.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like there’s something… weird going on with you.” He mumbled. You bit the inside of your cheek slightly before looking back in front of you, the action going unnoticed by the older boy.

“I am normal.” You said confused, making Alex let out a laugh.

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N/N. It just feels like you’re hiding something, that’s what I meant by weird.” He explained after his laugh died down. You once again bit your the inside of your cheek, this time your action didn’t go unnoticed by the hockey player. His elbow nudge when he noticed how silent you were being. “Talk to me.”

“Can you keep a secret?” You whispered, your eyes now focused on the water below your feet.

“Mh-hm.”

“Luke and I are dating.” You admitted, your voice low, almost scared someone would hear. The boy next to you stayed quiet for a while, making you a little worried.

“Old news.” Alex said after almost a minute, making your head whip towards him with wide eyes. “Z couldn’t shut up about it, freaked out a little when he found out you two were already at the L word stage.”

“Trev told you?”

“Told all of us, we all know. That’s why I thought something was wrong, you and Luke weren’t acting like Trev describe the two of you. Asked Moose about it, why you were acting weird, said he thought you were acting pretty normal.” The curly headed boy explained, a soft grin on his face.

“Trev’s an asshole, I told him not to tell anyone.”

“You really expected him to be able to keep any kind of secret? He spammed our groupchat at like midnight, Jack wasn’t happy to get woken up.”

“How’d Jack react?”

“I think he’s scared. If something bad happens between you two, it’s gonna be weird for him and Z to act like nothing happened. And if nothing bad happens, he’s scared he’s gonna be stuck being brother’s in-law with him.” The boy explained. A part of you almost started feeling guilty for maybe ruinning your brother’s friendship, but you knew Luke was the one for you.

“Ellen said he’s never seen him like this.” You admitted, a smile of your own appearing on your face as your cheeks became a slight shade of pink.

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell me though, how long as it been?”

“Almost six months. December 14th.” You told him, a small gasp leaving his mouth.

“I am wounded!” He exclaimed, his right hand coming up to rest on top of his heart, making you roll your eyes. “We’ve only known since like April!”

After a couple of minutes of talking about your relationship with the youngest Hughes boy, you and Alex made your way back to the firecamp after Cole had called out for them. Once you had made it back, you saw Luke standing along in the kitchen, his back facing the outside. You excused yourself quietly before making your way in with a grin on your face.

Since the patio door was always left open, your boyfriend didn’t hear you, so when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, it’s safe to say he freaked out a little. The cup he was holding fell on the counter, the drink he had made spilling everywhere as a yelp left his mouth.

“It’s just me Lemon.” You mumbled as you poked your head above his shoulder, standing on your tippy toes. His body turned slightly, grabbing your waist before bringing you in front of him, a yelp of your own echoing in the kitchen.

Before the defensemen had time to say anything, you quickly connected your lips together. You hands reaching to the back of his head and his neck, holding his body close to yours as your lips moved together. Whistles and howlers could be heard from the boys outside, making Luke pull away from you.

“What’re you―”

“They know, Lu, they’ve known. Since April, because Trevor can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” You explained, Luke smiling down at your brightly before connecting your lips again. His arms now completely wrapped around your waist as he pulled your body to his as possible.

“I love you, Munchkin.”

“I love you more, Lemon.”

#bri writes #luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n zegras #lemon au #alex turcotte #trevor zegras #cole caufield #jack hughes

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pretty-little-mind33 · 6 months ago

Text

Tangerine x ex fem!reader

Summary: Seeing your ex for a job is the worst possible scenario—you think?

Prompt: second chance - "I never thought I'd see you again."

~ i hope you like this @dreamofbetterthings!! ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

The moment you see him, wearing torn fragments of an all-too-familiar blue suit, his brown hair just a little longer than it had been when you'd been dating, you freeze and your entire mission is forgotten.

You're clutching the case behind you. The blue, pink, and purple lights in the train car are now overwhelming as he seems to turns around in slow motion.

You inhale, seeing how bruised and beaten he is. His eyes narrow when he sees you and he points at you. "You. I know you," he croaks, desperately trying to recognize you in the low light. You can't blame him. You'd changed in the last year.

"—Y/n?" Tangerine's voice is softer as he says your real name. You snap your head up to glare at him—force of habit—and he raises his arms in surrender, "S-sorry, sorry." He looks around too, relaxing when he sees that no one else is around. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" you argue, walking closer to him. Your mistake because he sees the case and instantly reaches for it.

"You're the sneaky fucker that stole our case?" he hisses.

You pull the case away. "Hey! Hands off!"

"Oh, piss off, it's mine!" Tangerine snaps and suddenly, the jerk of the train sends you falling forward and straight into his chest. You drop the case simultaneously and he wraps his arms around you to steady you. Your hands grasp his shirt and you look up as he looks down, your noses almost touching.

It's too personal—too familiar.

You pull away and snatch the case from the ground as you sprint away from him. You've never had much luck running from him and this time is no different because the doors to the other train car falter and you slam into them, falling backward and hitting your head on the ground. Hard.

How fuckin' embarrassing.

When you wake up, you're in some fancy hotel room, the sound of a shower being heard from the bathroom. You adjust to the light, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. When you see Lemon, sitting and cleaning his white shirt on his knee with a wet sponge, he sees you and smiles.

"He monopolizes the shower. Ya know this, Petal."

Petal. You haven't heard that code name since you first met the twins—three years ago now.

You touch your head and wince.

"He did say you would feel a bruise when ya woke up."

"What happened?" you ask and Lemon shrugs.

"Complications. But, all that matters is that we're all in one piece, hm?"

You look around again and then your eyes widen when Tangerine comes out of the shower, wearing a pair of checkered blue pajama pants you know very well and your heart leaps. He's in a white shirt and using his towel to dry his hair. Lemon stands silently and pats his brother on the shoulder before locking himself in the bathroom.

Tangerine turns his head to you and sits on the edge of the opposite bed, staring at you with sharp eyes. "I never thought I would see ya again," he says bluntly.

"Me neither," you tell him honestly, also staring at him.

"Why did you change your number?"

"Why did you leave?"

Tangerine frowns. "Me?" his voice raises, "You left."

This information stumps you. Why did he think you left? Sure, you had been the one to initiate the breakup, but that was because he had spent the last months growing more and more distant.

He had left long before you had.

"I didn't leave by choice! I had to leave because it was obviously what you wanted."

Tangerine turns paler and his knee bounces. "I never wanted you to break up with me! I was goin' through a hard fuckin' time and ya just up and left me!"

"I had to leave because I couldn't stay anymore. You made my life miserable."

Hearing this, Tangerine snaps. Only, he doesn't become angry like you've seen him do a thousand times before. He doesn't scream or storm away. Instead, he rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, going quiet. Too quiet.

When he sees the small shakes of his shoulders you panic. You hate seeing him cry. It's such a rare sight. You stand and kneel next to him, your hands cupping his cheeks as you force him to look at you. His cheeks are crimson and he looks like a petulant child, the tears in his eyes refusing to fall no matter how hard he tries.

"Hey," you whisper, your voice shaky.

"Don't look at me," he grumbles and turns his head away. "I really made you that miserable? Fuck, I'm such a prick."

Your heart squeezes. "N-no, of course, you didn't—and you aren't a prick, not all the time or unreasonably so. You made me happy," you tell him urgently. "I loved you so very much, and that's why I had to leave. Don't you understand? You were destroying yourself, and that meant you were destroying us. I couldn't watch that happen anymore."

You rest your forehead against his, unable to control your movement. Your head is still throbbing from the minor concussion you're sure you've endured and so you'll blame that for what you say next. "I still love you, you know."

Tangerine's breathing has calmed and his tears have disappeared just as quickly as they came. He looks up and he feels like he's dreaming as he waits for you to continue.

"I never really stopped. God, I've missed you more than you can imagine," you finish with a pitiful scoff.

Instead of words as an answer, Tangerine leans down and kisses your lips quickly. He moves away. "I've missed ya, luv," he finally says and then his hand finds your hair as he looks down at you adoringly. "I have loved you ever since I met you. I didn't stop either."

Your cheeks heat up as questions and doubts flood your mind, but his lips on yours again drowns those out until all you can think of is him. You kiss him back again, almost as if there hadn't been that tortuous one-year gap that had kept you apart.

"Ew, I fuckin' knew it. Get a fuckin' room, arseholes," Lemon's voice rings out but neither you nor Tangerine care.

Nothing could ruin this moment.

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @longlivedelusion, @princesssunderworld

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stalkerofthegods · 1 year ago

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Lady Hestia Deep Dive

Lady Hestia is a wonderful goddess, she is always there for everyone, I adore Lady Hestia, I do not worship her personally but I know well that she is Amazing.

Herbs • Chaste trees, Rosemary, Parsley, Basil, Sorrel, vanilla, Cinnamon, coriander, Marjoram, Mint, Lemon balm, cloves, clary sage, Allspice, Angelica, Coriander, poppy seed, chamomile, Angelica, Bay, garlic, mint, peppermint, pepper, marjoram, The lavender, the chaste tree, the datura, the California poppy, the goldenrod, the hollyhock, the yarrow, the purple coneflower, all white flowers, Lavender, White roses, angel’s trumpet, goldenrod, hollyhock, and yarrow, pine, Wildflowers & sunflowers, raspberry leaves, sage, pearly everlasting, yellow rose

Animals• pigs, donkeys, one-year-old cows, a Crane.

Zodiac & scared number • unknown, I cannot find out what month she was born on, or the day. But I would associate numbers 1, and 6 because she is the oldest and the youngest (and etc, but who even likes my rambles?)

Colors •Gold, yellow, orange, red, White, Gold, Lavender, light purple, black, silver, and dark red

Crystal•Carnelian, Garnet, Goldstone, Calcite, Topaz, garnet, amethyst, lapis lazuli, green tourmaline, Vanadinite, Quartz, gold, silver, and brass, Amber colored crystals, citrine, clear quartz, sunstone.

Symbols• a kettle, the hearth (fireplace), torch, candle

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• friendship bracelets

Diety of• the virgin goddess of the home and hearth fire, cooking of meals, and sacrificial food for feasts, architecture, domesticity, family, and the state, and sacrificial flame

Patron of where the families ate and congregated, hospitality, family.

Offerings• give her prayer beads that remind you of her that are not Christian (or make one, which is better), wooden beads, Oil Lamps, Seven Day Candles (because they burn for 7 days), LED Candles, A Candle that reminds you of home, White or red candles, Apple juice, cider, Wine, Baked goods, keys to the home (preferably not stolen(looking at Hermes devotees))), Small kitchen antiques/objects, pottery/cups/bowls, artwork of homey things, a meal, your favorite things, poetry, books, items you made, fall-themed stuff, spring-themed stuff, First/last foods & libations from a meal, Candles/flame, Honey, Pork, Cakes or Cookies made to look like one of Her symbols,), Keeping a candle/hearth fire or lamp constantly burning, Pictures of homes you want to live in one day, pictures of homes you have lived in, Pictures of architecture that you like, Teacups, teaspoons, tea towels, Childhood memories (ex- stuffed toys, baby clothes, old photos), Homegrown herbs, Toys or art of donkeys and pigs, Leaves or blooms from a chaste tree, Tea light candles (real or fake), Your favorite poetry or poetry you have written for Her, Your favorite books, Stories you have written, Art of flames, fire, candles, Garmets that you have made such as clothing, blankets, beanies, Homemade lotions, bath bombs, shower gel, bubble bath (You can ask Her to bless them then use them she probably won't say no), Beeswax products, honey, olive oil, pumpkin pie

Devotional• Pick up rubbish in communal areas, Offer the first or last bites/portions of food your to her, Cooking/baking for yourself or others, Having a candle lit whenever possible (electric or real), playing a video of a fire place, Volunteerring at homeless or DV shelters, donating to homeless or DV shelters, Setting healthy boundaries with friends and family, reading about Tea/Coffee magick, Getting involved with your local community, Advocating for policies you believe will better the community Allowing yourself to rest, Do a chore you've been putting off for a long time, organize to hang out with some loved ones, Veil or bind your hair, Wear something red or orange, Make a devotional playlist for her, make a Pinterest board or a mood board for her, Learn about kitchen witchery, Cook a meal in her name, Clean the House, Put together a puzzle, Eat popcorn and watch a movie, do Knitting, read about knitting, donate yarn and

knitting supply’s, prepare food for family, make the table before eating, garden, Harvest berries, pick flowers, Donate to food charity/drives, Support people who lost their homes to natural disasters, Welcoming others into your home, Keeping the peace (especially in the home), Donations of time & money to Habitat for Humanity, Do little (or big) acts of kindness, If you have a fireplace light it for Her or build Her altar around it, Meditate next to a fire, Read poetry or a book, play a playlist for Her and play it while you clean or cooks, Clean your house/room and keep it nice and tidy, Take a cooking or baking class, Collect recipes and keep a recipe book, Host celebrations at your home, Remember your ancestors and learn more about them, Spend time with your pets, Take care of yourself and your mental and physical health (Your body is a home for you), Take a hot bath, eat some ice cream, chill at home for a day, Pray to Her( ex- for protection, inspiration, happiness, guidance, and help getting rid of negative entities in the home, peace in the home, good food, an abundance of food, independence), help to start/tending to the hearth, work on having strong family bonds, Open your curtains and let the sunlight warm the room, Make a potful of tea and keep it in a large thermos, Watch movies that make you feel nostalgic and cozy, Say goodnight and good morning to her, Get an electric blanket and feel the warmth connect you to her, Cuddle a stuffed animal, Make a blog/journal filled with cozy homely things, Keep a few locally baked goodies nearby for when you need them, String up fairy lights and use them as your only light source, Whisper prayers and devotional pieces before you go to sleep, Use a Himalayan salt lamp to connect to feeling of a fire, Invest in little things (ex- pillowcases, photos, curtains) that make your room feel welcoming and peaceful, Make a little bottle filled with herbs and crystals and other things that remind you of her, Listen to music that makes your soul happy and your heart content, Take care of yourself (ex- Brush your hair, use a wet cloth on your face), Keep a tealight on you, Clean one small area of your house, Savor a hot drink, Do small, unnoticed acts of kindness, Always greet animals (both big and small), Do anything by candlelight, Wear colors you associate with her, Practice your patience (both external and internal), Be a listening ear or shoulder to cry on for those who need it, Make compromises when it is healthiest for both parties, always have a lighter or matches, Listen to music that reminds you of her, Spend time tending to your body, Leave a big tip the next time you have a chance, Practice kindness in all areas of your life (including driving), Take a hot bath or shower with no time limit, Decorate a space, Build a fire, Compliment people (both strangers and loloved ones), Donate something (ex-clothes, money, or your time), Look at photos and embrace the happy nostalgia, Wear makeup or jewelry that reminds you of her, Wake up early to see the sunrise - or watch the sunset, Watch/read about acts of kindness to be inspired, wear prayer beads that are for her, go to a high school reunion, do a family reunion, do budgeting in her honor, do meal planning, set healthy boundaries, have a household notebook, do seasonal cleaning, try home remedies,As you light your gas stove, say a prayer to Hestia, Spend quiet quality time at home, Gather your family (including your chosen family) for a festive candlelit meal, Commit to spending more time with children and old people.

Ephithets•Äídios - eternal, Aïdius – See Äídios., Basileia - See Vasíleia, Bulaea - See Voulaia., Chloömorphus – See Khlöómorphos, Daughter of lovely-haired Rǽa, Khlöómorphos - verdan, Polýmorphos - multi-formed, Polyolbus – See Polýolvos, Polýolvos - rich in blessings, Potheinotáti - beloved, Prutaneia – See Prytaneia, Prytanei, Vasíleia - queen, Voulaia - of the council, Prytaneia -”of the Prytanis.”

Equivalents• Vesta (Roman), loki (Norse), Brigid (Celtic), Hathor (Egyptian)

Signs they are reaching out• having a strong urge to Vail in her honor, seeing her animals and symbols in your dreams, and seeing her imagery a lot, everything at home suddenly going well.

Vows/omans• that she “would be a maiden all her days”

Morals• morally light/pure

Courting• None

Past lovers/crushes• None

Personality• She avoids drama, and is generous, but her temper is volcanic in nature, she is slow to anger, but when she gets angry her rage is a force of nature. She is modest, tranquil, and industrious

Home• Mount Olympus

Mortal or immortal • immortal

Fact• Historically she is supposed to be the first deity offered to in a ritual due to being the goddess of fire, she's the oldest Olympian, She is spat out last by Kronos so she is also the youngest, she shares her seat with Diyonisus, she did not give it up, she receives a share of every sacrifice/prayer to the gods, and she is commonly seen alongside with Hermes, I would recommend putting their alters close together.

Element• fire

Curses• a bad family life, food being burnt, having not enough food, being turned away at restaurants, being homeless, your house catching on fire

Blessings• all domestic happiness and blessings

Roots• Greek mythology….and she was raised in her father's stomach, and at the first years of theogony era.

Friends• all of the gods, but most notably Hermes, but is not friends with Priapus, she dislikes him (he tried to rape her.)

Parentage• Cronus and Rhea

Siblings• Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, Demeter, Hera

Pet• she has no pets.

Children • she has no children.

Appearance in astral or gen• she was typically represented wearing a veil and robe. In some images, she held a flowering branch or kettle as well.

Festivals • None, at every feast and meal a liberation was made to her name first and last, but I associate Thanksgiving with her, but her Roman counter part Vesta has 1-15 June of each year, an then another festival celebrated on 8-9 July. Hestia is also mentioned on 8 June. But a neo-pagan sets aside 26 December – 22 January as a month devoted to Hestia.

Status• Virgin theoi goddess.

What disrespects her turning away people at your home (she is a goddess of hospitality and it was seen as disrespectful to her to do so.)

Planet• unknown

Her Tarot cards• the Temperance, the fourteenth Major Arcana card.

Remind me of• Hot cocoa, and Thanksgiving.

Scents/Inscene • Lavender, Rose, spring water, rain, Pumpkin, Apple pie, cinnamon, fall leaves, Chamomile, Myrrh, Frankincense, Iris, Angelica, Peony, Angelica, iris, Sandalwood

My opinion • I like her, but I'm scared of her too. (what a shocker!)

Prayers•

Historical-

Holy Queen of Sanctity, we hymn you, Hestia, whose abiding realm is Olympus and the middle point of earth and the Delphic laurel tree! You dance around Apollo’s towering temple rejoicing both in the tripod’s mantic voices and when Apollo sounds the seven strings of his golden phorminx and, with you, sings the praises of the feasting gods. We salute you, daughter of Kronos and Rhea, who alone brings firelight to the sacred altars of the gods; Hestia, reward our prayer, grant wealth obtained in honesty; then we shall always, dance around your glistening throne.

For the lost -

Blessed Hestia, the first and the last, and the always flame. May your light burn bright and strong, May your prayers be those of respect and love, May you guide the lost, And give to those who have nothing. I give thanks to you, Hestia, for all that you have done And continue to do.

For people with intrusive thoughts -

I ask Hestia, the kind goddess, to help those who feel down. May they find comfort and peace inside of their homes and inside their own minds. Protect them for their destructive thoughts, and be the safe place they need so much

A prayer for homeles—

In Hestia’s name, may you always have a home and a roof over your head. May you always be comfortable and warm with a full belly. May you always be in good spirits and good company, never knowing the pervading loneliness that envelopes the soul.

Morning

Blessed Hestia, Fill this home with your light and bounty, As the day fills it with golden sunshine.

Evening

Glorious Hestia, Let your hearth fire warm this house, As night draws her shadowed cloak over it now.

Blessings of the kitchen-

Hestia bless my little kitchen, I love it’s every nook And bless me as I do my work, Wash pots and pans and cook. May the meals that I prepare, Be seasoned from above, With thy blessings and thy grace, But most of all thy love

Links/websites/sources •

ts-witchy-archive, constantly-disheveled, saryoak, eldritchhorror06, https://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/625205765818515456/hestia-offerings/amp, https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/179727039352/offerings-to-hestiahttps://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/625205765818515456/hestia-offerings/amphttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/179727039352/offerings-to-hestiahttps://www.learnreligions.com/hestia-greek-goddess-of-the-hearth-2561993#:~:text=Keep%20a%20candle%20dedicated%20to,prayers%2C%20songs%2C%20or%20hymns.https://www.theoi.com/Ouranios/Hestia.html#:~:text=In%20myth%20Hestia%20was%20the,youngest%20of%20the%20six%20Kronides.https://www.theoi.com/Ouranios/Hestia.htmlhttps://greekmythology.fandom.com/wiki/Hestia#google_vignettehttps://greekmythology.fandom.com/wiki/Hestiahttps://greekgodsandgoddesses.net/goddesses/hestia/https://www.hellenicgods.org/festivals-of-hellenismos---eortai https://hestiasservant.wordpress.com/2018/05/27/honoring-hestia-a-festival-every-day/https://www.elissos.com/the-family-goddess-hestia-mother-of-all-gods/#:~:text=The%20birth%20of%20Hestia%20dates,to%20his%20throne%2C%20his%20children.https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhea_(mythology)#:~:text=According%20to%20Hesiod%2C%20Rhea%20had,and%20Zeus%20in%20that%20order.https://www.reddit.com/r/pagan/comments/14sy8cj/is_hestia_reaching_out_to_me/https://mythopedia.com/topics/hestia

http://persephoneandhecate.blogspot.com/2011/06/exploring-archetypes-hestia.html?m=1https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/170063420188/bedridden-devotion-to-hestiahttps://honeyandhestia.tumblr.com/post/170063420188/bedridden-devotion-to-hestiahttps://www.tumblr.com/heatherwitch/160613514230/hestiavesta https://constantly-disheveled.tumblr.com/post/156636591525/can-a-hearth-fire-just-be-a-candle-that-you-lighthttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/169551188078/devotional-activities-for-hestiahttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/167758105763/jar-to-help-me-connect-to-hestia-chamomilehttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/171225676313/burn-herbs-and-spices-as-an-offering-to-hestia-i https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/183383795283/what-kind-of-crystals-would-yall-associate-with https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/171208375440/a-historical-prayer-to-hestiahttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/169394109439/i-ask-hestia-the-kind-goddess-to-help-those-who https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/166938581678/if-youre-still-doing-prayer-requests-may-you-be https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/178225408393/lady-hestia-goddess-of-comfort-and-warmth-to https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/183772520921/a-little-kitchen-prayer-for-hestia https://www.hellenicgods.org/festivals-of-hellenismos---eortai

I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.

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alwerakoo · 1 month ago

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'when I'm nothing new'

ROTTMNT Leonardo & everyone written for @nerdy-turtle-enthusiast, as part of @tmnt-secret-santa-2024 PROMPT: Getting older

AO3

A/N: I had so much fun working on this fic! Couldn't wait to share it with everyone. Happy holidays! --

There are better things he could spend his birthday doing, Leo supposes.

Like going home and actually attending the ''surprise'' party his brothers are definitely throwing him, judging by how shifty Donnie has been acting the whole week. He's never been a good lair, and he's even worse at keeping secrets – especially from Leo.

But no one said anything to him in the morning, only exchanging knowing glances, and he quickly took that chance to run.

There are places where he goes to wind down, to make his lungs fill with air, his stomach unclench.

And there are places where he goes to occupy his mind with other annoying things, to the point where he can't even remember what made him so upset in the first place. Places like Draxum's apartment.

“That's a check,” Draxum tells him.

“No, it's not,” Leo says on instinct, even before his brain winds up to find the right move.

He moves his bishop, the sudden surge of uncertainty leaving him as soon as it appeared.

Draxum's face shifts into something strange, like he's bitten into a lemon, which Leo now knows means he's trying to hide his amusement.

Draxum is still the only person he actually knows to have ever beaten him in the game, and every time Leo outsmarts him leaves him with a sudden surge of giddiness. He's also the only person willing to play with him on the regular.

He's always been more than good at chess, and it gave him a great sense of pride and probably more than a bit of a god complex. But Draxum never seemed to care about the genuine emotions that spilled out of him sometimes during the game, usually matching his intensity tenfold.

Which is one of the reasons Leo came to him this morning. There were things he never seemed to mind, like Leo's intense emotions, quiet bitterness and secret cynicism, taking everything at face value and never talking about any of it.

It's why he's not expecting him to ask.

It's Draxum he spends the whole morning with, and it's Draxum who first puts the idea in his head.

“Well,” he says, rather sudden. “You're turning twenty-five.”

Leo blinks a little.

It's not like he really expecting Draxum to fully forget, and there might've been a sting of something painful if he did. But it's nice reassurance.

“I am,” he says.

“So, are you planning on doing anything with your life?”

Leo's hand freezes, previously hovering over his queen.

He puts the finger on the piece, feeling the smooth wood under his callused skin.

“What?” He asks.

He can feel his mind ticking away, like a factory machine, trying to unwind every detail of the new conversation.

Draxum's not meeting his eyes, but he usually isn't, so that doesn't really tell him much.

“You're twenty-five, and you haven't done a thing.”

A part of Leo bristles, the part that used to take everything as a personal attack. It was something that made him rather annoying in his early twenties, and borderline unbearable in his teens.

He clenches his jaw, letting himself take a breath as Draxum knocks down his rook.

This is the part that he grew to appreciate over the years – raw and unfiltered honesty. Even, especially if, it makes him feel a little worse about himself. He needs that reality check, sometimes.

“I've done plenty,” he says, simply. “Like save the entire world. And many people.” He raises his head again to look Draxum in the eye. “Including from you, by the way.”

Draxum doesn't seem phased, which makes Leo think he might've practiced this whole conversation before. He hopes he hasn't, because that means there's a real chance of Mikey being involved, and he's already heard enough of his brother's unwanted advice to last a lifetime.

“You haven't done anything that made you happy,” Draxum says, and then leans backwards, like he's been itching to say it the whole morning.

That puts Leo's mind to a stop, for just a moment.

“I like helping people,” he defends, letting some of his old anger slip though.

Draxum moves his queen. It suddenly feels like they're playing two games at once.

“That's not the same.”

“I was happy the world didn't, you know, end.”

He sometimes still feels the weight of that "almost" in his chest and Draxum looks at him like he knows.

“Well,” he finally snaps, his voice harsh and bitter, “did wanting to kill all of humanity made you happy?”

“... No,” Draxum says, and it sounds so honest and raw it punches all the anger out of Leo.

They don't talk for a long moment.

Leo works his jaw, pushing the words in his head over and over again.

He's not wrong, is the thing. There were moments in his life where he felt happier than ever, and they rarely had anything to do with the heavy weight of a "leader" balanced on his shoulders.

He moves his knight (which he keeps calling a "horsey" out loud, only because it annoys Draxum), and says:

“I'm not unhappy.”

“I believe that.” Draxum nods.

“Did Mikey put you up to this?” Leo finally asks.

Draxum's face does a complicated thing.

“No,” he lies.

“Well,” Leo scoffs a little, looking at the board. The conversation made him distracted and he can already feel the corner he was backed into. “Tell him I'm perfectly satisfied with my life as it is.”

“Clearly you're not,” Draxum says, a little harsh. “If you were, you'd be having a birthday party right now.“ He moves a piece. “Check.”

Leo feels like someone drew a line straight through his chest.

Because there was a moment in his life where birthdays stopped feeling like laughter and presents and cake, and started to look a lot like responsibility and expectations, and he's not sure he can ever go back now.

Twenty-five is a big number.

“What I am supposed to do, then?” He asks, desperate.

It's weird, because there's a whole textbook of history between them, and he doesn't think he'll truly ever see Draxum the way Mikey sees him, but he thinks they might be friends now. And isn't that something.

“Whatever you want to,” Draxum answers, simply. “Right?”

Leo watches the board.

Then, he holds out a hand, putting a finger to his king. Slowly, he tilts it down.

“Right.”

***

Later, he comes home, gets his birthday party, and they don't talk about any of it until two weeks later.

***

When he pokes his head through the door, Mikey's sat in his hammock, legs swung over the edge.

He looks up from a sketchbook sprawled over his lap and smiles at Leo.

Leo never really grew into the habit of knocking before walking in, and Mikey was the only one of his brothers that never seemed to really mind.

“Hey, dude,” he greets and Leo walks in, closing the door behind himself.

“We gotta talk.”

Mikey's face falls, just a little. There's a line forming on his forehead that grows more and more pronounced with each year, and reminds Leo of Raph in an almost painful way.

“Okay,” he answers, very slowly. “Do I need to bring out a PowerPoint presentation for this or...?”

Leo can't really find it in himself to smile honestly, so he doesn't.

He shouldn't be angry with him.

Him and Mikey spend an awfully long time fighting in their late teens – both sick on guilt, misdirected anger and too much love. There were many things that changed after the Kraang, but out of everything, Leo regrets this one the most.

He doesn't want to waste more of his life making his little brother think he hates him.

(Even if he did, just for a short while. Mikey saved his life and Leo hated him for it.)

It took years, swallowing down their own hurt and pride, and many, many late night conversations for Leo to feel like he could breathe freely again.

Still, there was some odd comfort in knowing that Mikey would never walk on eggshells around him – laying down even the harshest truth if he didn't see any other way.

Maybe that's why it ruffled Leo so much.

That even after all that, he still couldn't face Leo himself. Not with this, apparently.

Leo sits down on Mikey's bed – the cleanest part of his entire room, probably only because it was so rarely used.

Leo still isn't sure how Mikey deals with an aching back after spending so many nights in his hammock.

“I had a very weird conversation with Draxum the other day,” he says, cutting right to the point.

He puts his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, leaning against the wall.

Mikey watches him for a moment, very carefully, his eyes bright and wide open.

“Did you?” He finally answers.

“Stop that,” Leo huffs. “I know you talked to him.”

Mikey makes a face.

“He's bad at keeping secrets,” he says, almost like an apology.

He looks back at the sketchbook on his lap, adding a few more lines with the pencil held in his hand. It's not a spiral one, and so he spread the two pages so flat it left a mark on the spine.

“The hell was that about? Since when is he a mail pigeon?”

Mikey doesn't look up, but there's something more genuinely apologetic etched onto his face, some kind of regret. Maybe embarrassment.

“I felt like you wouldn't listen if it came from us,” Mikey says, quietly.

Leo clenches his fingers, holding his thumb until it aches.

“That's not true-”

“Is it?” Mikey cuts him off, harsh.

His face quickly softens; he chews on his cheek.

Leo thinks for a moment.

“So you talked to Donnie and Raph? Is this what we do now? Talk behind each others' backs?”

“That's not-” Mikey holds a hand to his forehead, groaning. “You're doing the thing again.”

Leo stands.

He circles Mikey's room, feeling the anger buzzing under his skin. His bad knee startles in pain and he feels it up to his spine.

“Doing what?”

He doesn't want to argue.

But he hasn't been able to sleep well since his birthday – caught up in his own mind, reflections and what-if's, and he can't help blaming others for it.

Because they're right.

Draxum, Mikey, his whole family, apparently.

There are things, parts of his life he never dared to look too closely at, that they all saw right though. And that scares him to his bones.

“Damn it, Leo.”

Mikey slides to the ground, letting his sketchbook fall to the ground with the outermost carelessness. He steps closer, blocking Leo's way to stand right in front of him.

Over the years, Leo grew taller and taller, towering over most of his family.

Right now, he feels much smaller.

“This thing,” Mikey says, as a way of explanation. “Where you keep acting like we all hate you.”

He reaches out, closing his fingers around Leo's arms, shaking him a little.

It's so unexpected it almost punches a laugh out of him.

He feels like he's running backwards, grabbing onto all the old anger that's left in him instead of letting it go.

His progress is a circle and he's always running backwards.

“I'm worried,” Mikey says, quieter now. “You're-”

“What? Useless? Depressed?”

“Aimless.”

That hits Leo right in the chest.

They don't really go on missions anymore, not like they used to. Donnie called them "retired" and Leo wanted to laugh because it was true. His brothers had lives to throw themselves into, something they carved along the way. Seemingly, Leo missed his cue to do the same.

He was himself, then he threw it all away to be a leader, and now he's too scared to look. Scared he'll find nothing else left.

“You wouldn't get so defensive if you didn't agree,” Mikey says, because he's known him his entire life.

Leo feels like he's been sitting with this for months, like an open wound right in the middle of his chest, and he needed Mikey to force his chin down to finally face the fact that the pain wasn't coming from inside.

“I love you,” his brother says, like the most important part he forgot to add before. “I want you to get your shit together.”

Leo laughs, and Mikey smiles. His face always seems to fall, rather than stretch into a smile, like it wasn't made to do anything else.

“I don't know what to do,” Leo says, honestly.

“You're a smart guy,” Mikey says. “Figure it out, man.”

Leo looks at his face and wonders when he missed the moment where his brother started to look so grown-up.

***

He sits on it for the next week.

Mikey told him to 'figure it out', and he honestly, truly – tries to. But it's only a rather long and tedious call with April, many aimless walks around the Hidden City, and even more conversations with Draxum – that he comes to an idea.

It's something he latches onto from the loose suggestions thrown around him, and holds onto like a drowning man.

There's hesitation there, of course.

He's past the point of admitting his own failure, but the thought of actually picking himself back up scares him. He's grown detached from the idea of throwing himself into the deep water like this, of climbing out of the uncomfortable and cold hole he accidentally dug himself into.

'It'll take years,' a part of him says. 'You'll be thirty before you'll even get anywhere'.

'You'll be thirty anyway,' another, bigger part replies.

Past that, it's not a hard choice. He can't really imagine anything better for himself.

He loves helping people.

There's a part of him that wonders if this too is tied more to his past and how he was raised, rather than his true self. He shuts it down pretty quickly, because it doesn't really matter what finally gets him moving, as long as it does.

He lets himself chew on that thought for another week, like a hard piece of gum he can't quite swallow, before he finally sets his mind to it.

But he knows the difference between making plans in his own mind and actually putting them into practice, especially in his own case.

He needs a final push.

The door to Donnie's room is cold under his knuckles when he knocks, and it only takes his brother a second to answer it:

“If it's not a life-or-death situation, I don't wanna hear it right now.”

Leo rolls his eyes, the sudden urge to be annoying, just because he can, adding confidence to his steps. He pulls at the door, letting it open with a quiet squeak of rust.

“It's always life-or-death with me,” he says.

Donnie stops for a moment to look up from his soldering work, which can already be counted as great success.

If they were younger – fourteen and careless, where death was a thing that will one day reach everyone but them, Donnie would've said: ''And I wish you'd choose that second option more often''.

He doesn't now, because they stopped joking about those kinds of things a long time ago.

“Well, hurry up then,” he scoffs instead. “You're already bringing down the property value.”

Leo shifts in place, suddenly feeling a little smaller.

And from behind Donnie's clear, protective glasses, Leo spots the exact moment his brother squints, brows drawn into a furrow.

“What's wrong?” He asks, because he's never been good at reading people, but he's always been good at reading Leo.

It must be something in him, the things people usually don't pay attention to and that Leo doesn't bother hiding, that Donnie has grown so attune to over the years. A high pitch note that he can only notice when it skips a beat.

“Nothing,” Leo says.

Donnie frowns some more.

“Lair,” he says.

Leo has been called many things in his life. Out of all of them, this might be the truest one.

He sighs, letting his shoulders curl a little in an unusual show of vulnerability.

“I just, uhm.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I need to do some research. Thought you could help?”

Donnie's shoulder's drop, and there's an increasingly panicked look growing on his face, like he's standing on the edge of a drop, leaning in further and further, only now realizing it doesn't seem to end.

Leo doesn't blame him, because the last time he spoke almost those exact words was also the day he first came out. He's been out to his family for ten years now, but that first day has cemented itself as one of the most painfully awkward experiences of his life.

And one of the sweetest, probably.

“It's nothing like that,” he reassures, and Donnie's shoulders loosen with relief.

“Oh, okay.” But quickly there's some new worry in his eyes, something more embarrassed. “I mean, not like- If it was, it's not-”

“Look,” Leo says, sparing him from the awkward, lingering moment.

He walks up to his desk, finally letting go of the leaflet he's been squeezing in his hand and placing it in the middle of the table.

It's covering Donnie's work, which he doesn't really care for, but there's also a slight wave to it now, where the sweat from his palm leaked into the ink. He wipes his hands against his thighs, self-conscious.

Donnie stares at the paper.

He blinks before finally looking up at Leo.

“You're going to med school?”

The words leave his mouth and the air around Leo grows just a little thinner.

He laughs, nervous and without any traces of humor.

“Well, I'm not going yet. It's just- I don't know, I thought about it?”

He rubs his hands together, going back to the old habit of circling the room. He can't tell if his knee hurts, or if he just can't seem to stop clenching his muscles.

Donnie's quiet, carefully tracing the small text with his eyes. He picks the leaflet up to see better.

“Like, obviously I can't do New York Med,” Leo continues, “but there's this college in Hidden City. And it's not like we really have any, uhm, proof of education or anything, but I'm sure Big Mama can pull some strings, right?”

He turns his back on Donnie, too skittish to keep looking at him.

He walks back and forth, eyes trained on his own feet.

“So I just thought- I don't know. It says here you have to pass an exam to even get in, so it's not like that's cheating or anything.”

Donnie has always been the smartest of them, but Leo and his brothers all took to education like ducks to water, as long as it involved anything other than sitting straight in front of a desk for hours.

He doesn't think they'd do well in a normal school, not as kids, but they always seemed to soak knowledge a little faster than April, like tiny-turtle sponges, especially when it could be applied to practical use.

Leo's sure it was part of Draxum's design.

He might not be far behind Yokai his age, but there's still uncertainty curled at the bottom of his chest.

He's uncertain about everything.

“And, like, I probably won't pass it, anyway. But I thought,” he breaths, “maybe-”

“Nardo.”

Leo stops.

He feels his heartbeat in his head, beating fast behind his eyes. He blinks, turning to look at his brother.

Donnie's still holding the leaflet, absentmindedly running his finger along the edge. His face looks calm, almost neutral, but there's a new spark in his eye.

“What's after the exam?”

Leo swallows, clenching his fingers to stop his hands from shaking.

“Then it's five years of school, and then residency.”

“Okay.” Donnie nods. “Do you want me to help you study for that exam?”

It's a long moment when Leo doesn't know what to say.

“You think I can do it?” He asks, finally, his voice quiet.

Donnie looks at him like he's stupid.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Donnie holds out his arm, handing him back the leaflet. His other hand, clenched into a first, taps against his thigh, like there's some new energy in his fingers he can't quite hold in.

He's bleeding happiness, and Leo doesn't know to wrap his mind around all of it.

“You're going to be a doctor,” he says.

“Is this a question?”

Donnie reaches out to squeeze the crook of Leo's elbow; once, twice.

“No. That's a statement.”

***

He's been staring at the envelope for ten minutes now.

It's off-white, closed with an old-timey wax seal, and there's his name on it, written in a neat cursive right at the top.

He runs his thumb over the soft texture.

Him and Donnie spend a few grueling weeks almost living inside the Hidden City's library, with stacks of books piled onto desks in the most inconvenient of ways, and newly developed dust allergies.

Donnie's methods of teaching consisted mostly of borderline bullying, but it was the constant need to prove a point that pushed Leo forward – not that he was going to admit any of it out loud.

He showed up to the exam hall half-drunk on stress, desperately trying to look like someone who hasn't thrown up into a trashcan on his way there.

He found the questions tricky but not hard, which made him double guess everything over and over again, until he was probably the first one to finish, and the last one to leave.

Leaving it all behind was like weight dropping off his heart, and he feels all of it coming back now, settling behind his lunges like an avalanche.

He's bouncing his leg up and down so much his knee starts to ache.

Leo takes a breath, and with one hand – rips the envelope open.

His family's in the living room, huddled around the table for a dinner he's late to, and everyone's heads turn when he walks in.

His heart beats: once, twice, thrice. And in that rhythm, he says:

“I got in.”

***

In his first year, Leo learns a lot of things, only most of which have anything to do with medicine.

Most of his classmates are younger than him, bright with that special kind of annoying you can only be at nineteen, and Leo quickly learns to keep his distance.

His lectures feel long and exhausting, leaving his body aching after hours of sitting, and he's forced to leave the more practical classes to stretch out his bad knee – numb from standing in one place for far too long.

He thinks the faculty might know his family, or at least the reason why he was even able to apply in the first place, because there's a certain look some of his professors give him, that makes something in his stomach turn uneasy.

It's his first steps, and he's already climbing uphill.

He's so caught up in it – in desperately trying to avoid the label of a major weirdo, the constant thought of finals looming of his head, planning out his week to squeeze in as much free time as he can, that it takes him a while to realize he's planning out his week.

He's leaving the house everyday now; there's always a class to attend to, a book to pick up from the library, or something he needs to scream about on some secluded beach in Hawaii until his throat goes hoarse.

He's both more and less tired now. There's some sleep he always seems to be losing, but it doesn't settle in his bones like it used to. It doesn't cling to him like molasses, making him want to curl up on his bed until he can't get up anymore.

(He wonders if it was something other than tiredness keeping him down this whole time.)

His family is looking at him differently now.

Maybe they've been for a while. He just had too much time to dwell on himself to notice it before.

There's something in their smiles now, something hesitant but hopeful, like he's an injured bird they nursed back to health – taking flight again.

He's clumsy and slow, but he's up in the air and there's no going back.

He's moving now.

And that's a start.

***

The first exams hit him hard.

“Come on,” April says, her fingers tapping on the book's cover. “You know this.”

Leo's laying flat on the couch, his fingers locked together on his stomach, and he feels a little like he's at a therapists office.

That is, if therapists were weirdly interested in his bones, rather than feelings. Which might be true for some. Leo has never been to one.

April's sitting on the floor, her back rested against the couch, a heavy textbook spread open on her lap.

“I don't,” Leo huffs.

April seems monumentally more interested in adjusting her leggings than anything he has to say, so he waits till she looks up at him again to roll his eyes.

“You're just panicking,” she says, very matter-of-fact. “Stop winding yourself up.”

It's the kind of tone that used to keep them all in line when they were kids. It still does, to a certain point.

So Leo just wines, picking up a pillow he previously threw aside just to have something to scream into.

When he's finished, April raises an eyebrow at him.

“You're so dramatic.”

“I'm tired.”

Something genuine must've slipped into his tone, because at that, something in her face softens.

She reaches out to squeeze his good knee, before handing him some of his notes back.

“Read over it again.”

Leo studies his own handwriting.

There are so many things, so many things to remember, that he doesn't know what to put his hands into.

“This is so stupid,” he says after a minute.

April's already busy, filing down her nails with careful consideration.

“Welcome to college,” she says, holding out her hand in front of her face. “What shape should I do?”

“Almond,” he responds, automatically. Then: “How did you do this?”

April got her degree a few years back, coming out the other side with bangs under eyes, coffee jitters, and radiating happiness.

“Through sweat and tears,” she says, simply.

“What if I fail this?” He asks.

“What if?”

She doesn't turn to look at him, but raises a brow again, like she knows he's looking at her.

“I'll have to retake it,” Leo says, a little hesitant.

“Ok, you'll do that then.”

There's a kind of certainly in her voice, something stubborn and so sure of itself, Leo almost lets it quiet down the worries that have been rotting him from the inside out.

“And what if I fail again? I'll have to redo the year.”

He sounds even less sure than he'd like to, his voice quiet and mellow.

“You have all the time in the world.”

“What if I fail so much they kick me out?” He finally lets out.

It's a worry that sits heavily in his bones, the fear that he'll slip, and then all of this would've been for nothing.

“Then you'll find something else to do in your sad, little life.” She tilts her head against the couch, sending him an upside-down grin. “You're not winning this game.”

Leo lets out a shaky breath.

His chest squeezes, matching how she touched his knee just moments ago.

He might slip.

He might fail, and he might fall and never want to pick himself back up again.

It won't matter, because as sure as he breaths – there will always be someone there to catch him.

“Okay,” he says instead. “Ask me those questions again.”

April's smile widens.

Leo has a lot of things to learn. But he already knows who he can count on.

***

He feels the years pass faster now.

It might just be that he's getting older, but he feels like it's barely a blink before he's already in his third year.

It gets both harder and easier.

He's been an outsider his whole life, always either too young to understand why the world he lives in would never accept him, and just old enough to feel like he could never be a part of anything else.

But he knows the way people see him. He's cheerful and optimistic when he needs to be, charismatic to his very bones, and it doesn't take all that long for his colleagues to warm up to him.

They talk to him like they believe he should be there, like they see potential in him, and that makes him want to try harder and harder – over and over again.

And before he blinks, it's his birthday again, and there are twenty-eight candles, all awkwardly squeezed onto a cake.

Mikey baked it, and the blue frosting flowers he decorated it with look a little wonky, maybe a little worse than he would've done some years back, but so much better than anything he could've done right after Kraang. It makes Leo smile with all his teeth.

He's so occupied with all of it, with his family's arms around him, the promise of sweet taste on his tongue, loud music drumming away from the speakers – he almost forgets to make a wish.

He hesitates, for just a moment, before blowing out the candles.

More, he thinks. More of this.

A few hours later, he's sitting on a chair; feet aching from dancing and mind numb from beating Draxum in chess three times in a row. He's already on his fourth piece of cake, grateful Mikey never learned how to bake in moderation, when he feels a familiar shadow pass over.

He tilts his head back, meeting Raph's eye.

“Hey, man.”

Raph's finishing his own plate, tossing the leftovers on his plate with a fork.

“Happy birthday,” he says, not for the first time today. “How was school?”

Leo's classes were long and exhausting, made even more grueling with the promise of a warm welcome waiting for him at home.

“Ugh,” he says. “I don't wanna talk about it, it's my birthday party.”

Raph gives him an interesting smile, tilting his head a little.

“Well, okay. Raph just wanted to say...” He hesitates for a moment. “I think it's really cool you're doing it. You're gonna help a lot of people, you know?”

Leo feels his face twitch a little.

“Yeah. I mean, that was always the goal, wasn't it?” He says, and it comes out a little more honest than he intended.

Raph's face twist, like Leo just stepped on his foot but he's too polite to say anything about it.

He's still awkwardly hovering over him, which means he has something more to say. Leo doesn't rush him.

“I wanted to say...” He scrapes his fork over his plate. “I think I was too hard on you when we were younger.”

Leo blinks.

He sits straighter on the chair, turning around to look his brother properly in the eye.

Before the Kraang, him and Raph were rubber bands, high strung and waiting for the other one to finally snap. It was wanting to show each other up, and it was the rush of panic when they realized their wish might come true.

“Thanks. But maybe I needed some of that,” he says.

Leo used to think himself larger than life, like he knew some undeniable, secret truth that all of his family was too blind to see. He wishes he would've felt the cold water they were trying to throw on him before it pulled him under – right into the deep end.

“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says like he doesn't really mean it. “But I just- I was looking at some pictures and I saw some from right after Kraang and... I don't know.”

They took a lot of them during that time, like a desperate rush to never let anything slip through their fingers ever again. Leo thinks his broken bones and bruises that seem full on display on all of them, no matter how hard he was trying to hide them.

He remembers Mikey taking one of them, making him look straight into the camera despite his blackeye. Now, he thinks there was something to that.

Something like: 'despite everything, you're still here'.

Raph shuffles on his feet, his gaze turned down.

“I don't know. You were smaller than I remembered.”

Something in Leo's throat hitches.

He searches his mind for something to say.

“You were smaller than you remember, too.”

Raph's smile turns warm.

Leo knows there are things hidden under those sentences, things they need to talk about sooner than later. But for now, Raph only says:

“I'm really happy you're doing this. I mean, it's awesome,” he laughs a little. “You're awesome.”

Leo looks up at him, and just this once, lets himself grin with all he has.

He's warm, drunk on good food and good company, and when Raph goes to sit down next to him, he reaches out. He puts his arms around his brother's neck, letting his head rest against Raph's shoulder.

He feels when Raph takes a deep breath, then sighs.

The song playing in the background dwindles down, turning into something that makes April and Donnie pick up another fight.

“Hey, you know.” Raph picks up his fork again, playfully tapping it against Leo's snout. “I'm proud of you.”

Leo takes a breath, and when he breaths out, it comes out as a laugh.

“Thanks,” he says, honest and raw. “I'm proud of myself, too.”

*** When he's in his fourth year, his professor asks him what he wants to specialize in, and it's almost like making that first choice all over again.

Except this time, he doesn't hesitate for a moment.

There's confidence in him that he hasn't seen in a long time, and the world feels wide and open, everything on his way pushing him further and further along.

'I'm not unhappy', he told Draxum a long time ago.

'Are you happy now?' he asks himself every day, looking into the mirror.

Every day, the answer he gives feels a little more like the truth.

***

While he waits for the tea to boil, Leo taps his fingers on the counter.

He's been fighting hard to kick back his caffeine addiction, and it might be a battle he's losing, but he's going down with dignity. And a lot of tea.

He's thumbing through his journal, because he's the kind of person who keeps a journal now, absentmindedly memorizing the dates of his finals. It's a lot of work, commitment, and work again, but he's used to feeling busy these days.

He looks up at the sound of familiar footsteps, smiling on instinct. He's smiling a lot less than he used to, but for once – all of them are honest.

“Hey, Pops.”

His dad grumbles, rubbing his hands over his eyes, clearly not awake enough for an actual conversation yet. Leo decides to not hold that against him.

“You want some tea?” He asks instead, not waiting for an answer before reaching up for a mug.

He feels this urge more and more often now. To pass him the remote, to move his chair for him, to bring down the heavy pans he can't quite reach anymore.

He looks a little older every day, and every time Leo spots a new patch of gray fur he wants to bury himself in his arms and never let go.

“What are you doing?” Dad asks, walking up to the counter to watch Leo wash his mug under the sink.

“Tea,” Leo answers. Dad looks at him like it's too early this sort of attitude, which is probably true. He adds: “I gotta bounce by the uni later. I have to give them some papers.”

“What papers?”

Dad takes the mug out of Leo's hands, filling it with tea and hot water himself. He's been doing that more and more often, too, like he has something to prove to them now.

Leo supposes he does.

“Just for next year. We're branching out, so it's a mess all around.”

He often felt like the administration system of his university was a pure mystery to everyone involved.

Dad looks up at him, eyebrows raised a little.

“What are you 'branching out' into?”

Leo hums.

“Pediatrics.” He reaches out, pouring water into his own cup. “They have a good program here. One of my professors said-”

He stops, something on the back of his neck crawling with alarm.

He looks down. Dad's not meeting his eye anymore.

“Pops?” He says, very carefully.

He puts away his mug and his hands hover awkwardly, unsure where to lay.

His dad's hand presses against his mouth, his eyes fixed to the floor, and Leo's body tenses, like he's once again a little kid who just broke a glass – waiting for the shoe to drop.

“I'm-” Dad finally looks up at him again.

His eyes look glossy, and something in Leo staggers, like a seized engine.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Dad shakes his head, stops, then nods, like he's correcting himself.

“Yes, yes, I just-” His shaky breath turns into a laugh.

“Dad.” Leo shifts on his feet, his fingers tapping against his thighs in a very Donnie-like gesture. “Dad, are you about to cry?”

His father laughs, waving his hand almost dismissively, but there are already tears in the corners of his eyes.

“I guess-” He sighs a little. “It just hit me now. You're- You're really doing this.”

Leo blinks.

He frowns, looks around the room like he expects to find any answers there.

“Doing what?”

“Come here.”

Leo's still frowning, but there aren't a lot of things he wouldn't do for his father. He leans down, letting Dad cradle his face in his palms.

Leo's grown so much taller than him, and everyday it hurts, just a little.

“You know, it's funny,” Dad says, very quietly. “I don't remember you growing up.”

Leo swallows.

The ties holding them together are strong, but coated in years and years of history, bitterness, and things they never said out loud.

It's melancholia, it's bitter-sweet, and it's an apology.

Leo raises his hands, covering both of his.

“My boy,” Dad says. “My baby blue.”

I love you too, Leo thinks.

***

The only good thing about his final exam, is that it is the last one he'll ever have to bare.

The whole ordeal feels more a job interview than an oral exam; unimportant inquiries about his future plans and small talk mixed with actual, medical questions. Leo gets the sense they might've been intentionally trying to throw him off, which seems a bit mean, but maybe necessary.

Waiting in the hallway for the examinators to call him back, Leo sinks into his seat, feeling the full weight of all his bones and muscles.

His family's waiting outside, and when he closes his eyes he can almost hear the hum of their nimpo, warm from the inside of his chest.

He thinks he might be nervous. But more so – he's relived.

He thinks that, for the first time, he's not afraid to fall.

This is his best.

Hope is a fragile thing and Leo's holding onto it with everything he has.

They call him back in and he's hovering in the doorway just for a moment too long, until one of the professors looks up at him.

There's a smile edging at the corners of their beak. They raise a hand to beckon Leo closer.

“Come on in, doctor.”

***

Leo can't imagine spending his birthday in any other way.

The night air feels cool and calm on his skin; his head and face warm from dancing and drinking. He's leaning back against the railing; the rooftop of April's new apartment building already familiar enough for Leo to not hesitate before he tilts his head up, balancing on the edge.

“Raphael wanted to eat the last piece of your cake.”

Leo straightens, opening his eyes to look Draxum in the face.

“Tell him to piss off, it's mine.”

“He already ate it.”

Leo's face scrunches up and he huffs.

He doesn't say anything else, but he shifts a little, because Draxum will only stay if he doesn't acknowledge his presence. He's like a cat in that regard.

The man slides next to him, resting his palms on the railing.

“How's work?” He asks, because Leo is now the type of person who's asked about his job.

With real curiosity at that, because while Leo's usual clients are rarely anything other than heartwarming, their parents have been the source of more than a few equally absurd and frustrating stories.

Even with that, he rarely complains about work.

He thinks he's actually good at it, which might be the funniest possible outcome for someone who's only previous experience with children was being one.

He's been told kids find him funny, parents 'charming', and there's a real kind of satisfaction that comes with it.

But working so closely with kids, with their bright smiles, chubby fingers, cute faces and not a single ounce of bitterness in their entire being – made him feel a whole sort of new things. Things he never thought he'd catch himself thinking.

Things that look alarmingly close to white picket fences, piles of small shoes next to the front door and the future.

Why not, he thinks to himself. Why not?

“It was fine. One kid fit an entire Lego piece up his nose.”

“Riveting.”

“You want to play chess with me later,” Leo says.

“I'll be tired.”

“That wasn't a question.”

Draxum huffs, and Leo recognizes it for the laugh it is.

“Leo!” Mikey's standing on his chair, waving at them from the other side of the roof. “Group picture time, get your ass over here!”

And so he does, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

As he tilts his head to squeeze into the frame, he takes a moment to look at his own reflection.

'Are you happy now?', he asks himself.

He hears the answer in his brother's laughter, in the soft music playing in the speakers, in the hum of an airplane passing above them.

He's only a few years past thirty, and there's already a deep ache and sadness etched into his bones – things that wouldn't seem unfit in someone much older.

The limp in his left leg won't ever go away.

But there's something in this, in getting older and older.

He was a dreamer when he was a teenager, and he dreamed of glory, blood rushing in his ears and things greater than his own life.

He's a dreamer now, and he yearns for more of this. More slow mornings, more days where he can't feel the coming cold in his bad knee, more moments where his brothers laugh like they haven't ever forgotten how to.

He's been living with a gun aimed at his head for so long he didn't even feel the cold metal on his skin until it stopped.

Leo tilts his head up, looking into the sky.

And from where he sits – the lights of the airplane almost look like stars.

#feeding yall my pediatrician leonardo propaganda #ff #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #fanfiction #leonardo tmnt #tmnt secret santa 2024 #tmnt

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