#almost wrote april

[keylovesstuff]

I give you guys this :)

AO3

FFN

Little Events Chapter 4: Proposals

"So when are we going to get married?" Bowser asked her five minutes into silence after everyone left the meeting room.

Water mixed with spit flew an impressive fifteen inches across the table hitting him directly in his face. The Koopa King blew the little water from his nostrils while the rest dripped down his face. It took a good ten seconds for Peach to finally catch her breath and another five to compose herself while repositioning her crown upon her head. 

"Excuse me, but one you never proposed, two I never said yes, and three are there not specific courting customs you have to follow?" Peach asked while listing off each statement one gloved finger at a time.

"Fine." Bowser huffed standing and making his way over to her seat. Peach turned her body to face him once he was in front of her. Taking her hand in his giant one bending down on one knee. "Peaches, from the moment we first met, I knew you were the one that I wanted to spend my entire life beside. You're already such an amazing leader and together we would be the best rulers in the world. With that accept my hand in marriage." He finished giving her his best dreamy eyes.

Peach was certain she was blushing out of embarrassment as she quickly pulled away and straightened up the papers on the table.

"I wasn't being serious and what kind of proposal was that? It wasn't even romantic." She pouted gathering up today's materials and started towards her office. The Koopa King followed behind.

"We both have a different view of what a 'romantic' proposal entails." Bowser grumbled under his breath looking at all the free space along the walls. "I've been saying you should add more portraits or at least some mirrors. How's a guy supposed to admire their own handsomeness or their leader when I'm here?" He commented for the umpteenth time.

Other than a slight chuckle, Peach carried on towards her office. Another thing both Bowser and her Advisor Toadsworth shared similar opinions on. It wasn't so much as she didn't think she was pretty- far from it actually but, that doesn't mean she wants a portrait or her own reflection 'staring' as she went about her day. Lone stone statues and having his entire face sculpted into his castle may work for him but not for her. The thought of having to sit perfectly still for almost eight hours dissuaded her from wanting any portraits done. While the glass stained portrait displayed outside was nice, she did not miss that numb feeling in her butt just for them to get the perfect reference. Peach was thinking that if any pictures were to go on the walls, landscapes of the world's natural beauty would be nice.

Peach supposed that once she starts traveling to other kingdoms she'd find some lovely sights that she'd want to look at again even if she could only visit once. She entered her office to place the papers on the desk to look over at a later time while Bowser waited outside.

"I got some other things to attend to so I'm going to be leaving here in a bit. Is there anything else in that pile I need to sign or something" Bowser asked from outside the room. 

Peach hummed and quickly skimmed through the paperwork she just placed down and hummed softly.

"No you're all good. Thanks for fitting this meeting into your schedule. I know you hate how early they are." She told him, while closing the door "I'll accompany you to the pipe if you'd like" she offered and he just nodded. 

"Least you can do after you rejected my proposal earlier." Bowser finally said after they walked in silence for a few minutes. 

Peach continued but was at a loss of words. Was he really that hurt by her rejection? Was he really that serious with his proposal? Maybe that was the most 'romantic' he could be and her expectations were either too high or unrealistic given that the most she knows about romance comes from books. Bowser was from the darklands and similar to her, didn't have anyone to look to on how being in love looked. She has her doubts that Kamek had little time for a personal life of his own with being at his lord's beck and call, much less giving him advice about it. Toadsworth himself never went into much about his romantic life only going as far as to say at one point he was involved with some ambassador in training but they broke up mutually.

To her memory Toadsworth never actually pursued anyone else in their community either. When Peach was young she did question him every now and then about wanting a partner, only for him to brush it off and sweetly tell her that he'd wish to put all his energy into raising her. Younger Peach enjoyed hearing those words then but now she wished he took time to focus on himself outside of her but, he doesn't seem all that bothered she guessed. The princess had to stifle a chuckle once she realized she hadn't responded to Bowser's comment.  Even after knowing him for all these years, Peach still viewed him as her very much self-absorbed friend that would occasionally offer some good advice when it comes to being in power. While she didn't take all his advice to heart, she couldn't argue with the fact that it worked for him when she visited his Kingdom. That didn't mean she could see herself being by his side for the rest of her life.

They made it to the pipe before she finally found something to say.

"So um, exactly when and how did you know that you loved me to the point that you were thinking about marrying me?" Peach turned red again in embarrassment after structuring the question in the best way. Bowser stared at her silent for what seemed like the longest two minutes. She found an interesting spot on the ground and was about to tell him to forget about it till he finally spoke up.

"Guess I just see you as a worthy leader to be with considering how far this place has come in just half a year into you taking power. Already better than other kingdoms that've been operating for years. That and I can never have too much territory and this place is huge and of course having you as my Queen would grant me access to that. What are you thinking about saying yes?" He finished with a wiggle of his bushy eyebrows.

Peach gave a sigh of relief inwardly. There was no sort of love confession in what he had said which would make what she had to say next a little more easier. 

"Not exactly. I feel like I still have so much to do as a leader on my own. I really do appreciate all you've done to help me get this far but, I think I want to see more of what other places have to offer before I even think about marriage I guess" she finished with a bow.

"Hmm on your own...I see" Bowser regarded her words with claws on his chin. 

The way he repeated her own words sent a sort of strange feeling down her spine but Peach shook it off. Maybe due to nerves of having to admit that out loud and not having a clue on where to start to make it happen. Again the silence lingered on for far longer than she was comfortable with as he stepped onto the pipe.

"No choice but to sit back and see what you do Princess Peach," Bowser finally concluded. "When you feel like you're in that position make sure to consider what I've said. I do trust you'll make the right decision as it's much better to have me as an ally than an enemy" he added, smiling proudly to himself as he saw her gulp.

"Of course Lord Bowser. Please take care and I look forward to our next visit, where you'll hopefully start accompanying me to other kingdoms?" Peach reminded him of his promise to hopefully end this conversation on a positive note.

"Sure. I'll write or come visit you when I can so we can set up some days. I'm pretty sure that old man and that excuse you call a council would insist on being in attendance" mouth frowned in disdain when he mentioned her people. She chose not to acknowledge it.

"I'll look forward to it," Peach said, waving him off as he disappeared down the pipe. 

As she was heading back to the castle to carry out the rest of her appointments and for the remainder of the day, Bowser's words and the idea of marriage played throughout her mind. For the first time since her coronation, she was thinking about all the other responsibilities that came with being a leader.

The sun had already set for the day and Peach found herself in her office chair reviewing notes written by both herself and council along with documents from  today. She could feel her eyelids getting heavy and brain turning into mush as she tried to process the words enough to know where to properly sort them in the drawers behind her. A long yawn filled the otherwise silent room and in that moment she looked up at the clock and it was about a half an hour till 12am. The first obligation scheduled for the day was set for seven. With a groan she contemplated on just leaving everything sprawled out on the desk and just calling it a night. A small laugh found its way out of her mouth as she could practically hear Toadsworth saying that he taught her to make sure all her areas were left spotless when she leaves. Gathering up the last little bit of her energy, Peach willed herself into finally sorting the papers and the thoughts from earlier bought her Advisor outside of her door with a knock.

At her words of 'come in' the door opened and in walked Toadsworth dressed in  lavender striped nightshirt,  matching night hat atop his cap, and white slippers instead of his usual attire with his signature bowtie. 

"Time management needs to get better my dear Princess. This is the fifth time this month I've found you in here at an unruly hour" He tsked and set to work organizing the writing materials on the desk and then her papers. 

Peach watched as with just a five to ten second glance he knew the correct place to file it for later, Truly earning his place as being her most trusted advisor. He's always been there to listen to her concerns and give her good advice whenever she found herself too much in her head.

"I guess I was just a little distracted by something today and it's taking me a while to get this stuff done" she told him, moving to help with the other stuff.

"Oh? Perhaps you'd like to discuss? It may help to ease your mind." He offered before gasping suddenly at the sight the untouched tray of food. "Before we get to that you need to eat your dinner" confirming his suspicions he lifted up the lid. 

With a quick promise of returning he grabbed the tray and left the office. Peach finished sorting the remaining papers. By the time she placed the last piece away, Toadsworth returned with the now warmed meal. She was a few bites into her grilled cheep fish sandwich before the toad seated across urged her to share what was on her mind.

"What do you think about the idea of me getting married to someone someday?" she asked him finding the right way to phrase it. 

Immediately Toadsworth eyes glanced to both her hands for an extravagant ring on her finger. He put his hand over his chest to ease slow down his heartbeat when he realized she hadn't rushed into a commitment like that without talking to him first.

"Well of course I want you to find someone that you're so infatuated with to want to spend the rest of your life with." He told her and took a sip of tea he bought up earlier. "As a matter of fact...I should probably apologize for not allowing you to interact with people more like you despite them being a pipe away" he added, setting the cup down and looking at nothing on her desk.

To an extent she understood where he was coming from but, on the other hand she couldn't remember a time growing up where she wanted to be around other humans. Then again from the time she turned nine after a normal school day she was immediately thrusted into formal leadership teachings so where did she have time to really think about it. In conclusion, Peach thought that she couldn't quite miss or be bitter about something she never had an association with in the first place.

"There's no need to apologize about that Toadsworth" she started and reached out for his hand. Toadsworth grabbed it, giving it a squeeze. "I don't think it matters how a person looks so much as their personality and how they are when it comes to ruling." Peach finished with a smile.

"If you say so my dear" Toadsworth patted her hand with his other hand and returned her smile with his own best. 

Hearing that made him feel a bit better but, he'd be lying to himself if he didn't think he could've done better as her guardian. Sure Peach has turned out to be an amazing young lady and while she still had a lot more growing to do, he was proud at just how good of a leader she is now. Toadsworth did wonder just how much if any of her mental has been affected by not being around humans and wasn't sure if he was ready to face it should the time come.

"You must be in love if you're asking questions about marriage. Am I right?" He asked to get them back to the topic at hand. Now thinking and hoping that it's not about the Koopa King after what she said earlier. Saying she fell for one of the toad guards would've been better if he was honest.

"Not exactly" she started not acknowledging the look of relief on his face. 'What was he thinking she was going to say?' It was probably better she didn't know so she just carried on. "I was looking up other reasons that people, well mostly royalty get married and it's not always about love" she shared this most recent discovery with him but if she thought about it he probably already knew that fact.

"I guess I understand that. What pushed you to look into all that Princess" he urged her to continue. Peach gathered her thoughts for some moments and took a deep breath before speaking.

"Well why I don't think I like Bowser in that way, his influence as an ally has proven to be good. Mmm I guess if there's a permanent engagement in place  especially when it comes to the safety of everyone. If that's taken care of well then I guess I could learn to love him or anyone for that matter later" Peach told him and then felt unconfident about it seconds later "I'm sorry does that make any sense? I fear it doesn't." She said turning away to focus on the wall.

"I see where you might have come to that conclusion. I do want to assure you that as you will never have to make a decision like that alone and if you feel you need to I would hope you address that with the council or me first." He told her sternly and only continued when she gave him a nod. "Furthermore, as the people who have cared for you from the time you were little, your happiness means the most to us and while other kingdoms have their own rules set in place, here you will marry who you love ok." Again she nodded to show that she was still listening to him. "Finally if it's the peoples safety that really pushes you to go forward with something like that, then we'll give us time to show you that we can adapt and find ways to be strong ourselves." He finished but felt it necessary to add the next point. "We trust you so you have to trust us."

While Toadsworth wanted to follow that up with he'd be fine with her marrying anyone that wasn't Bowser, he didn't want to sound like an immediate hypocrite should she genuinely fall for him in the future. Though he'd have to see a serious change in that reptile to even consider him someone worthy of respect other than having the obvious title.

Peach could feel a burning sting prick the corners of her eyes while processing his words. In some part of her mind she knew that but it hit so much harder hearing come out of his mouth. It probably was because it came from Toadsworth but she also knew everyone would also say the same thing. With that she gathered the strength to get up from her seat, walk around the desk, and wrap her arms around his neck. Only feeling him return with the same gesture did she speak.

"Thank you Toadsworth" she said as a happy tear streaked down her cheek.

_______

Three weeks later Peach found herself in the throne room and felt another headache coming along as one of the Toad gave the same report since the first day. Part of her alliance with Bowser included sending some of his minions to do border control once dark rolls around, while other Toads patrolled during the day. There hasn't exactly been anything seen to warrant having such a thing in place but it was better to be safe than sorry.  However as of late, Koopa Troops and Goombas haven't been showing up to their posts to alleviate them leaving the toads to pull all-nighters to ensure the safety of the citizens. After the third night, Peach ordered them to return home to rest and just return by the time night falls since that's more important. The Princess has written several letters to the Koopa King about this but hasn't heard anything back yet. She even checked her document from the last meeting with him to make sure everything was still the same and sure enough his signature was there at the end of the paper.

Rubbing the temples of her head she told the reporter Toad to once again tell the others along the borders to return home to rest and return to their post by the time the moon enters the sky. Before he left to do exactly that, the toad left her with one more thing to know about. Power-ups only exclusive to the darklands she found really helped toads with certain tasks and vice versa when it came to the mushroom kingdom. Well the toads who normally handle all the imports and exports hadn't heard from the Koopa's King's people and their scheduled date was closing in. Peach assured him that she'll take care of everything with a smile as he took his exit.  She concluded that if she couldn't get a hold of Bowser via letters, she'd just have to pay him a visit in person to see what was going on. If the darklands was dealing with problems of its own, she'd hate to selfishly make it about her own Kingdom's needs and would provide support if she could.

All she gathered from her visit was that 1. The Darklands was doing just fine as the inhabitants went about their daily happy lives, at least by the kingdom's standards. 2. All the guards that normally took the border work at night were also in good shape. That didn't mean they were these past weeks she had to tell herself but also had some doubts.  Finally 3. Bowser was doing just fine and reading her letters as well. Rather he really was there or not, Peach wasn't gonna keep bombarding Kamek with questions. The magikoopa did tell her that it was under Bowser's direct order that the citizens weren't allowed to leave the darklands under any circumstance until he said otherwise. At least she got an answer for their lack of attendance the past three weeks. She just told him to tell the Koopa King to get back at her when he could, to which the wizard assured her he'd pass the message. 

Another three weeks went by and she still hadn't heard from Bowser in any form be it letters or in person. What she was expecting to see on her daily strolls through the town was her people barely managing to get through the day. Instead what she saw was the toads going on as normal, chatting about the usual topics, and smiling. The toads on border control took it amongst themselves to get back on a similar schedule where some would take the daytime and others would take the night, switching it up every now and then. Even though she saw it with her own eyes her mind just couldn't accept that everything was just fine. One day after everything was taken care of she found herself in Toadsworth office silently sitting there as the advisor did some calculations. It was silent for just a few more minutes before she finally decided to speak.

"Am I being tricked by everyone?" She asked him. Earning a questioning look from the mustached Toad. "It's just that everyone seems okay but are they really okay? Or are they just acting like they are when I come around?" She tried to get him to see what she was getting at. He was still very much confused.

"I don't believe your people would try to deceive you in that way Princess. More or less how would they be able to hide their suffering from you with a snap of the finger." Toadsworth said, trying to get her to logically think about the first question.

"Well I have developed a routine of visiting the town. Perhaps they've caught on to it and spend those hours in good spirits when I come around?" Peach reasoned with him and even she could admit to herself that that didn't make any sense.

"Or perhaps everyone really is just doing good. My dear we've always had a knack for finding ways to manage things on our own together. So even if we don't have what we're used to, guarantee we've found a way to do it ourselves." He finished that last part with a chuckle though that didn't reach Peach.

"If you say so. I'm going to pay another visit and see how it goes. Maybe I'll get somewhere this time." Peach told him,  getting up and heading towards the door.

"Of course Princess. Be sure to return at a decent time. I'll be waiting" Toadsworth promised her, returning to his calculations. 

Who was he to stop her or be the one to say her visits would be futile. Part of being a leader meant she had to face some things head on and see people's true colors. Even after all these years.

This visit was already off to a better start than the last as she caught Bowser returning to the castle. The King insisted that he wasn't in the mood for a visit but she explained that it wouldn't take long. Much to his annoyance he agreed and she waited alone in his throne room for a good ten minutes till he came in and sat down. No more than five seconds of silence Bowser snapped.

"Well...you said this would be quick...start talking" he snarled. A brief smirk of satisfaction crossed his face when Peach flinched in place and she stuttered a few words.

"Well to start I just wanted to know if our alliance still holds any weight? As of lately I haven't seen you hold your end and I've been wondering if somethings wrong." Peach told him once she remembered how to form words.

"I don't know...Depends Princess. What have you learned about doing it all on your own?" Head in hand he looked down at her from his spot on the throne.

At that moment everything seemed to come together and to say she was angry was an understatement. She was outright furious to find out the reason for him acting like this for the past two months was because of a small thing she said. It took everything she had in that moment not to blow up on him. Instead she took a deep breath and told herself that to some degree she had to placate the King if she wanted to see some semblance of normalcy return to her kingdom.

"While for certain I don't want to get married anytime soon...I'll still keep you in mind as a potential suitor." She gauged his reaction to see him looking quite impressed. "I do know that having your help makes it easier on my people's lives. So at your earliest convenience could we get everything back in place. It would be appreciated." She finished with a bow of her head.

With how long it took him to finally speak up, she was starting to feel like he'd just dismiss on the spot. Peach wasn't sure what she would've done if that happened. Would she have begged on the spot or even say she'd marry him the next day. Luckily neither of those options happened.

"I hear you. Tell your people to expect my minion's to contact them and be at their place by tomorrow." He waved a hand. Peach looked up at him and smiled finally hearing what she wanted. Already picturing everything returning to normal. "One more thing I still have some things to take care of but in about two months at most I'll start taking you to other Kingdoms so be prepared" He added.

"I will. Thank you" with one more bow she turned to take her exit.

Bowser stayed true to his word and only for the first time in weeks did she feel more at peace seeing the toads resume their daily routines. To the best of her abilities, Peach tried to tune out the voice in her mind along with Toadsworth's verbal and knowing look saying 'Everyone was fine all along'. While ignoring her was mostly intentional on his part, he really did have other obligations that came with his title. He reached the age and maturity where it was time to produce an heir and there was responsibility that came with keeping the bloodline as pure as possible. That intrigued Peach if only for the mere fact that she would one day be able to see a baby Koopa. Nothing could ever compare to baby toads though in her own biased opinion but it could come close. There was also the bonus of seeing papa Bowser in which she could barely contain a giggle every time she thought about it much to his annoyance.

Within the next year she was introduced to a variety of rulers who were mostly older than them. Peach found that leaders whose kingdom's were closer to her own home, were easier to make connections with. The leaders whose kingdoms were more shrouded in darkness and mystery, gave her a more unsettling feeling if she was honest. From the domain full of Ghosts who's tragic stories she'd rather not know about to a literal bomb that would probably explode over anything, she thought it'd be best to prevent any problems before they present themselves. There was no amount of asking to convince Bowser to take her to the jungle kingdom. Something about reptiles not mixing well with apes and he also couldn't stand the crocodile king that resided there. She'd just have to visit herself one day to see just how advanced it was.

Sarasland was another kingdom she wanted to see if only for the chance to meet someone around her age. Name and reputation alone wasn't enough to get an audience. The leaders had to get together and send a personal invitation and the qualifications for that weren't so straightforward. Peach would keep her fingers crossed that she would one day receive a summon. Bowser ended up taking her to the neighboring flower kingdom and while he didn't have many good things to say about it or their people, she did. That was made possible by interacting with their Prince by the name Haru. The moment she first sputtered out how pretty she thought his cerulean hair was, sparked the first of their conversations.

While the council and surprisingly Toadsworth left to tour a separate part of the kingdom, Haru took her on a quiet walk in their castle garden. There was the back and forth that comes with meeting with someone for the first time but, Peach was really surprised with how comfortable and natural they fell into conversation. Together they sat on one of the benches as he handed her a flower and complimenting her appearance for the second time, whatever was going to happen next was interrupted by Bowser showing up finally finding where she disappeared off to. That caused an almost comical misunderstanding of Haru assuming the two were engaged and he was overstepping in some way. Until Peach explained that was far from the truth, much to the anger on Bowser's face. They all said their goodbyes and just as they were about to depart Haru stopped her with a piece of paper. Said paper contained his castle address and insignia.

The added comment of hoping to hear from her soon started the two months of communicating with each other via letters. There were many days after completing her daily tasks where she'd spent time writing just to make sure it was ready for the deliverer by morning. Two days ago he had invited her to the flower kingdom to show her how to drive a motorbike, as enthusiastically as possible through words she accepted the offer. Toadsworth and a few members of the council escorted her to the kingdom and while they carried on with the scheduled meeting, Haru took her to the location of his bike. Now she stood there in traditional toad clothing she hadn't worn in forever since her dress wasn't appropriate attire for this activity, while Haru did a final once over on the bike.

"Ready to go Princess? Feel free to climb on" He told her after getting on the vehicle himself. 

There's only one seat she rationalized with one look. Was she just supposed to sit behind him? Would it be more appropriate or safe if she just sat sideways on the bike and held on to him that way? Wait, could she just wrap her arms around him? In the midst of her asking those questions to herself, a hand was guiding her to sit down on the back behind him. Haru assured her that he didn't mind her holding onto him as a matter of fact he'd prefer it cause he has a habit of going fast. That didn't stop his ears from turning red and stiffening a little under her touch.

Before taking off he passed her a gray helmet with the promise of getting her a pink one for next time. It was her turn to blush as she slid it on to hide her cheeks at just the very comment of him wanting to do this again with her. They took off and through the face shield, Peach watched as the scenery sped by. Of course she enjoyed calm and slow walks but, there was something more freeing that came from riding. They made it to a more open area and that's when they both got off the bike and he started explaining how everything worked. The Prince told her to try it for herself and maybe it was due to beginners' luck, but she caught on pretty easily for it to be her first time. By herself she remained cool and collected but, as soon as he hopped back on and held onto her waist it was a different story.

Peach was braking the bike excessively, swaying side to side, or going too fast one moment and too slow the next. The most embarrassing thing had also happened when she suddenly popped a wheelie. She was certain Haru had lost his hand but not sure why but one moment he was right behind her and the next he was on the ground. Of course she stopped immediately turning off the bike, rushing to his side, and apologizing profusely while helping him up and checking for any injuries. After that he proposed that they take a break and just admire the clouds, it was a beautiful day afterall. They laid on the soft grass together shoulder to shoulder, the smallest distance together they've been today. They made small talk pointing out the shapes of the clouds first to other random stuff before they somehow got on to the topic of families.

"Does it ever bother you that you don't know where you're from? Or that you don't know who your parents are?" He asked her hoping it wasn't a touchy subject. She hummed thoughtfully.

"Not really. I mean I've lived with the toads for so long that I can't say for certain I'd feel any different from knowing anything if that makes sense." She truthfully answered.

Peach knew for as long as she lived, she would always regard the toads as her true family seeing as they've always been there. She couldn't imagine how different her life would be now if she had ended up somewhere else or even stayed with her original family.

"I'm just really happy where I am now in life where I've come across many people now and am just looking forward to what the future has in store" Peach finished sitting up. Haru followed the motion.

"That's a nice way to think about it. I guess we wouldn't be sitting here together now if you never ended up here." He said putting his arms on his knees. "I hope that I can be more a part of your future," he added, facing away to hide the blood rising to his cheeks.

"Hmm well you're an ally of ours now. Of course you're going to be a part of that future." Peach told him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. When he snorted covering his mouth she couldn't help but think that something in what he just said went over her head. "What are you laughing about?" She pouted and it took him a minute to gather himself.

"True but, that wasn't entirely what I meant about being in your future" this time putting more emphasis on the word 'your' hoping it would come across differently this time around. Peach still had a slight look of confusion on her face. "Here um, if you would allow me..." He turned, repositioning his body to face her prompting her to do the same with her head.

As quickly as it all started it was over. One moment he had a hand on her cheek pulling her to him. Soft lips pressed against hers for several seconds. Before she had time to process returning the action, he was pulling away standing up and offering his hand. Haru apologized and told her they should probably head back as the meeting was probably done by now. Peach was speechless during the entire exchange unsure what had gotten into him. The ride back was just as quiet and slow as if he still wanted to prolong the time to the destination. He bid her farewell after taking her to the castle's meeting room, not waiting around to do the same with the others.

They went two weeks after that going about their daily routines minus writing letters. Well Peach herself didn't entirely stop writing them. After finishing them, she couldn't find the confidence to actually pass it along to the messenger. By day sixteen her drawer was almost filled to the brim of unsent papers. Toadsworth noticed the change and had asked her about it, but she convinced him that it was nothing. When deliveries came around the next day, there was a letter from Haru and just as she got her hopes up, it depleted upon seeing it was addressed to Toadsworth. Apparently Haru had matters that he could only talk to her advisor about, is all Toadsworth said.

Peach couldn't help but feel a little anger towards Haru. From kissing her, to ignoring her, and now requesting to meet with her advisor of all people, could he not talk to his own people. For once she actually envied Toadsworth's age and life experience that made people want to seek him out for advice. She had half the mind to order him to write a letter declining cause if he can't talk to her, why should he be able to talk to Toadsworth. Curiosity got the best of her though and even she said not to, Toadsworth probably wouldn't listen without a valid reason. So as planned, Haru arrived to meet with Toadsworth and had the audacity to smile and wave in her direction. Having other places to be, she said her farewells to Toadsworth and went on her way before he had a chance to lecture her about the rude behavior.

A couple hours went by and she had almost forgot he was here till she stepped outside her office to see him standing there. Part of her was happy that he decided to stick around for a while. Then she remembered why he initially visited and did an entire mood change.

"I suppose now that your business with Toadsworth is taken care of you'll be taking your leave?" Peach asked him, keeping a formal tone. 

"Well I should, but I have no other obligations and I really wanted to talk to you." He said walking up to her. "That is if you want to," he added.

"Sure I guess" she said, not bothering to fight back the smile on her own face as he gave his own. She fell in line beside him as they made their way outside the castle. 

"I want to say that while I don't apologize for kissing you, I do want to apologize for not following the procedures in order to do that in the first place." He started turning to look at her. "It's actually why I wanted to talk to Toadsworth and your council to see if I could fix things if you will." He stopped  there to allow her time to process what he was saying.

"Fix things cause you kissed me? I'm sorry but I'm a little confused." She said inviting him to elaborate.

"Well I guess what I want to do is enter a courting arrangement with you." He said finally getting to the point "I figured it'd be best if I got Toadsworth's permission and I also wanted to ensure that there weren't any other plans for you in that regard" That last part made her remember their first encounter when Bowser had shown up.

"Oh well what did he say?" She was curious now. It had been awhile since they had discussed that aspect of her life and wasn't sure if anything had changed.

"He said that he had no problems with it but, in the end the choice is up to you" he repeated her stewards words "said your happiness is what's most important...so would that be something you want to do be in with me?" and with that he stopped in place as they made it outside the town reaching his bike.

"Sounds like him" she smiled in relief before noticing how he'd become a bit fidgety as she hadn't answered the question. "Oh yes sure let's try it" Peach made a move to hold his hands in her own.

"Really? Okay then gosh, we'll then I'm going to try and see you more often if that's alright with you." Haru stammered over his own words in excitement moving in to close the distance. "Would it be alright if I kiss you now? as official partners"  He asked leaning in when she nodded yes.

"It sounds like the discussion didn't take long. I know Toadsworth can talk a lot though but still two hours? I hope I didn't keep you waiting that long outside" she said after they had pulled apart and he started to get settled on his bike.

"I want to say we talked for a good hour about the relationship thing with you. There was so much he had to say." Haru was remembering every last word from the conversation. "I wanted to come to you right away after that but, he said I should allow you to focus on work and so for the remainder of the time we spent it playing a few rounds of mahjong. In the end it was 0-5 in his favor. " He feigned annoyance at having to admit that and smiled when that got a laugh out of Peach.

"You'll get him one day I believe. If it makes you feel better, I'm 109-10 and those were pity wins because it was my birthday" she said, waving him off as he drove off.

For the next few months when either had downtime they would visit the other's kingdom. More often than not Haru, would be at the mushroom kingdom or either picking her up to take her to the flower kingdom to spend time there. They returned to writing letters to each other everyday and while it was mostly about stuff they talked about before, some of the letters took on different turns on both their parts. The content that some of the letters contained had Peach double checking the seals of letters before sending them off, doubling up the original with extra empty papers, or choosing to read them late at night in her own room. They also talked about future plans when the topic of marriage came up. Even though he hadn't asked the question yet, talking about it had her thinking it was only a matter of time. She briefly considered how all that would work being that they were from different kingdoms in all, but that could wait she concluded.

The next time Peach met up with Bowser, she updated him on everything that had happened. To say he wasn't pleased was definitely an understatement. The Koopa King went on about what Haru could possibly do for her Kingdom that he hasn't been doing for years and how she's only infatuated with him cause he's just like her. Dealing with Bowser for years, Peach knew it was best to just let him say whatever lest it lead to something bigger. It was in the middle of his tangent that Haru decided to appear having been waiting for a little longer than normal. Bowser decided at that moment it was time to leave, giving Haru the meanest glare as he walked past. Uncharacteristically Haru returned the gesture and Peach was glad Bowser's back was turned. As they were on the way to the flower kingdom Haru would ask her how she's put up with him all these years.

Peach had quickly learned not to bring either man up to the other regardless of what it was about. If it didn't have nothing to do with making sure everything remained functional in her kingdom it wasn't discussed. If it didn't have anything to do with the two of them specifically it wasn't discussed. In her excitement one day she did slip up and tell Bowser that Haru had officially proposed with a ring and everything. After the conversation it left her viewing a few of her most recent encounters and relationship as a whole a bit differently. Just as she was starting to feel a bit better about things, one night after having dinner with the King, Queen, and Haru's council left both of them in a weird mood by the time they went up to his room. Haru in particular seemed to be lost deep in his own thoughts, having not said a single word as they laid together on bed before he suddenly got up and sat down at his own desk and started writing down stuff on paper.

"So tell me again while it would be more preferable to have a boy first." Peach asked, staring up at the ceiling breaking the silence.

"It's more so about the title. See here in the flower kingdom the next in line for the crown goes to the oldest male once the current King passes. So while my dad was born after my aunt, the throne automatically went to him once my grandfather passed because of that." He explained while writing. "It was quite the conflict between everyone around that time but it's what the will stated and one of the last laws he passed. My dad's been assuming that we're going to be adapting laws from here since it's more 'set in stone' and 'proven to work' none of that making it up as it happens." Haru said only dropping his pen to do air quotes with his hands. "I'm sorry if he made you think that he or even myself would be disappointed in having a firstborn daughter. It's quite annoying since we haven't even gotten married yet and they're going on about kids now." He apologized, returning to the task at hand.

"I see. On the topic of kids I guess, how do you think I'd do as a mother? I mean I also started training a little later in life to become a princess and with this child I would have to start them earlier right" Peach asked more questions rushing to her brain than she could voice. He hummed before answering.

"Well I've seen you with both babies here and in your own Kingdom. I think you'd be a great mom. You grew up surrounded by toads so you know what it's like to be really involved so to speak. It's me you'll probably have to reign in every now and then, even up to four years ago I very rarely saw my own parents around and spent most of my days with mentors." He recounted, pen going to his cheek briefly before returning it to the paper "As far as training goes well like me we can have a few mentors if you want and you have me, I'll tell them what I experienced. We can also decide the best age to start it if that helps. But, again I just say we focus on getting through this wedding first before all that stuff" He finished.

Peach thought it'd be best to take his advice for now and worry about that topic for later and she also sensed that would be how he'd end everything else regarding the matter. She sat up covering her legs with the t-shirt and then pulling them to her chest.

"Is that why you're over there writing down some hypothetical laws of your own" Peach guessed and did a little cheer in her head when he stiffened in place.

"They're hypothetical laws for us" he corrected and faced the opposite direction in the chair. "I figured since you were thinking about things having it written down where you could see it would help and maybe for me too" he concluded and matched the frown that appeared on her face.

"How is it for us when I'm not giving any input?" She asked him.

"In a way you are by talking about your worries. I'm just adjusting and making things accordingly so you don't think about when the time comes. I was gonna show you later once it was a bit more polished." He promised.

"Would you be ok if we were to hypothetically still have an alliance in place with Bowser?" Peach asked out of the blue.

"What does he have to do with anything Princess?" He was genuinely confused at the sudden change of subject in the span of twenty minutes. She gave him a look that told him to answer the question. He groaned "If I'm honest I'm not 100% on board with it. I mean I was always taught to be wary when it comes to Koopa's. I'm willing to go along with it if that's what you want but I'm not going to be as kind as you are and allow him to do and talk as he pleases"  He told her honetime.

“I guess I understand where you're coming from but, there's a certain way you have to deal with him or he could get vindictive. " Peach advised.

"That doesn't mean anything to me, especially since I've been without his assistance for years and been ok. I would like to think that by being your husband you'd have faith that I know what's best for the people." He said feeling offended.

Peach was silent, not sure what could be said to make Haru not think that way. Making decisions alone was easy but doing it as a team seemed like it took way more work. In her own head she didn't process the bed shift under the added weight and arms wrapping around her shoulders until he spoke.

"I really do mean what I said. Look I know I haven't been there as long as Bowser and I know I'm nothing to compare to him physically but, I'd do anything I can against him for the people and you. So put some trust in me that I'll know the best choice" he begged.

Peach let the nodding of her head do the speaking instead of using her own voice not trusting it to sound sincere. Haru took it for now and hoped that one day he'd be able to prove it to her in the future. They ended up dozing off for a while before Peach woke up and asked if he could take her home. Despite the late hour, he slipped on some clothes and had her home in record time.

_____

It was three days to the wedding and aside from a few little things that could be handled on the day of, The preparations were complete. For the first time in a while she had actually finished all her work early. Not that she had much stuff with everything going on, just similar stuff for her coronation minus a speech.  Peach laid on top of covers in the dark room, engagement ring on the stand instead of her finger.  Deep down she had already admitted that she wasn't ready for this. There were just too many unknown possibilities that for some reason she could only envision poor outcomes. When she had told some of the Toads this, they had completely brushed her off saying it was just the pre-wedding jitters and once she's walking down the aisle it would fade away instantly..

At that moment she just agreed and laughed it off with them but she couldn't shake the thought that they were just telling her that because they had put so much energy into the preparations for her to change her mind. Something a couple of Toads in particular said was really sticking in her head and made her just want to suck it up and go through with it regardless of feelings. 

"If you change your mind now, you might end up regretting it later" one of them said as they were twisting her hair.

"Who knows if you'll ever find someone else that loves you the same way or even more than he does" The other one said while painting her nails.

"Oh but think of your reputation amongst the lands my dear. If you back out now any potential suitor looking your way will see you as a flake." The former one finished her hair and held a mirror up. "Do you like it?" Peach nodded.

"Don't say that! anyone would be lucky to take our Princess as their bride. Pay her no mind dear." The latter one held her hand up at a better angle "ooh I smudged it a little," she frowned and got to work fixing it.

Peach had tuned out for the remainder of the time she was there only replying with single words and nonverbal movements with her head. She grabbed the pillow and covered her face in a lousy attempt to drown out the words. The knock at the door caught her attention and like many times before she knew exactly who it was. Upon her approval, he walked Toadsworth and he stood right at the head of the bed. 

"I would assume you'd be in much higher spirits given that you're getting married soon. Yet you're in here alone and looking upset" he said his observations out loud. "Any reason for that?" He asked.

"Just because I'm laying down doesn't mean I'm upset." She told him. "I'm just a little exhausted with everything so I'm trying to catch up on sleep" she lied and turned to face the other direction. 

Even in the dark she could feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of her head.

"I'm not convinced that's the truth at all Princess. However, if you wish not to discuss what's bothering you now, know that I'll be here to listen to you later. You know where I'll be" he assured her, making his way to the door. 

The mustached toad didn't even make it five steps away from the bed before she sat in the bed reaching an arm out at him and in a panic told him to wait. Halting in his steps as he waited for her next instruction. The word came out of her mouth faster than her brain processed as she slowly lowered her arm thinking about the best way to talk about it.

"Could you just...you know what, wait a second'' Peach started but then decided to get up off the bed, turn the light on, and grab the chair from her work desk bringing it over to her bed. "Sit please" He did as he was asked and held her hand when she reached for it. "I, well, gosh I'm sorry" she choked then took a deep breath and then apologized, failing to find the right words.

"Peach, It's okay, take your time." He rubbed her hand once he got her attention at the sound of her name. "I'm not going anywhere" He promised, giving her hand a soft squeeze.

The Princess took his advice. Closing her eyes she took a few deep breaths and just focused on the feeling of Toadsworth rubbing her hand in gentle circular motions. It was a good five minutes of that as she collected her thoughts before she felt ready to speak. With one last deep breath, she started.

"I don't think I'm ready for all of this. I mean it's not that I don't love him" she said looking at the ring from the corner of her eye. "It's just... I guess I don't want him or anyone else to hate me for not putting the kingdom's best interest first you know?" She expressed it in the best way she could.

"I see your predicament my dear" Toadsworth said, taking time to process her concerns. "But, I want to remind you that when it comes to love, the kingdom should have nothing to do with it." 

"Toadsworth, the relationships I have with people regardless if it's romantic or not has everything to do with my Kingdom and even others" she tried to get him to understand. "I already hear some people say you could get away with anything and I'd turn a blind eye" she gave a better example and couldn't help the little smile as he chuckled no doubt having heard the same thing.

There was nothing he could really think to say to convince her otherwise. He had a good feeling that her relationship with one particular person was the main cause of all these worries. Toadsworth had decided a long time ago that Peach would have to figure that one out on her own since no amount of talking would get her to see right.

"Never matter, if you're feeling all these doubts, perhaps you should talk to the Prince about waiting longer or if you really feel that it's not a good idea, just call it off all together. I'm sure he'd be more than understanding" Toadsworth offered.

"Do you really think that would work out well with him?" She asked him. The second question of what if he does the same thing as Bowser did? Went unasked because she couldn't even think about grouping those two together in that way.

"I don't see why it wouldn't but you won't know if you don't have the conversation" he said, letting go of her hand and standing up in the chair and widening his arms. Peach did the same and they embraced each other. "You should probably have it sooner rather than later unless you've changed your mind" He combed his fingers through her blonde locks.

"Yeah you're right" she nodded "sorry just a little longer" she held onto him tighter.

"Of course," he whispered, doing the same.

In the end no matter how many times she rehearsed the conversation with an imaginary Haru, nothing felt right and time was running out. Peach decided it would just be easier to communicate with him the way they always did. At least she didn't have to see the look on his face telling him she couldn't go through with it. Better yet she didn't have to worry about him trying to convince her to otherwise change her mind. After sending the letter and the ring off she got a response 24 hours before the wedding was set to start.

"I understand. I'll always be here for you" 

That's all his letter said and she gave a sigh of relief that it was over. Later on that night, the feeling of relief turned into sadness that it was over. Peach once again laid awake in bed staring at the ceiling hoping her heart would heal quickly. There was no time to grieve she had a Kingdom to run and was more than happy to do it alone forever if she had too. All she needed was to know her toads were happy and safe. That's the mantra she kept telling herself to fall asleep. When that didn't work, she could only hope that things would be much easier should another person come along.

[sydney-carton-of-sour-milk]

The Many Illustrators of A Tale of Two Cities 4: Curtiss Sprague

...& a guest book editor...

This week's is a special one. We'll dive right into this 1930 edition by first admiring all the silhouette art of its illustrator, Curtiss Sprague - but see if you notice something extra along the way:

And to highlight the last one for its marvelous misquote:

Alright, have you noticed it? There's more than just ink coloring some of these pages!

Yes, this week we're not just taking a look at this 1930 edition - we are taking a look at this particular copy of this 1930 edition, which features not just Sprague's beautiful work...

...but also the work of William*, a high school sophomore 92 years ago who clearly learned the lesson from my last post! *although perhaps not clearly enough because I personally can't tell for certain what his surname is by his signature😅

Besides his coloring in Sprague's silhouettes, there isn't a lot more of his work written throughout the book - he did make sure to take plenty of notes in the blank pages, though!

There is also this brief note (please comment if you can make out the word above the date!):

As well as this subtle substitution (whoever C.E.S. is...oof!):

William's work made searching through and scanning this particular book an absolute delight - it was a grounding and beautiful reminder that students have been idly writing in their schoolbooks for as long as school has existed.

Thank you, William!

& the standard endnote for all posts in this series:

This post is intended to act as the start of a forum on the given illustrator, so if anyone has anything to add - requests to see certain drawings in higher definition (since Tumblr compresses images), corrections to factual errors, sources for better-quality versions of the illustrations, further reading, fun facts, any questions, or just general commentary - simply do so on this post, be it in a comment/tags or the replies!💫

[sophiethewitch1]

Getting out of a writing slump feels quite similar to rising from your coffin like a vampire. Which I am btw

[chucapybara]

i know i'm an acts of service masc when i once spent hours sitting on my bedroom floor carefully chipping away the rough splintery sides of this old scrabble set i have (the tiles are small chips of wood that were cheaply cut hence the splintery sides) with my box cutter because my crush at the time said she loves scrabble and wanted to play but i didn't want her to get hurt playing on the set i had

[pepsimaxolotl]

I’m actually getting my puter back in a few days this is surrral…

[bookwyrminspiration]

my boops are only sending like 1/5 of the time now but in spirit i am slapping you with my paws so many times

GET REKT !!

[lonelychicago]

how many presumed dead fics are too many presumed dead fics?? .... asking for a friend.

[painless-innit-colourful]

sat down at nine to write a drabble. three hours later it’s a oneshot and I have the best ‘fic writing research list’ since I read half of hetty feather to write about ranbulter. it goes as follows:

quote from sun tzu’s ‘the art of war’.

lyrics from the last few songs of hadestown.

the ‘curse of the ninth symphony’ (and beethoven’s 9th)

the correct spelling of ‘barre chords’

who the bassist is for lovejoy (I knew it was ash but I needed to check)

[mer-se]

Breathing the same air as jodie comer in April and idk how to act rn

[givemeasword-callmequeen]

A pretty - out of my league - girl talked to me today on one of those online platforms & she was so kind. So flirty. So charming.

& now I think it might be just a April joke.

[probablyasocialecologist]

The U.S. government’s two foremost authorities on humanitarian assistance concluded this spring that Israel had deliberately blocked deliveries of food and medicine into Gaza. The U.S. Agency for International Development delivered its assessment to Secretary of State Antony Blinken and the State Department’s refugees bureau made its stance known to top diplomats in late April. Their conclusion was explosive because U.S. law requires the government to cut off weapons shipments to countries that prevent the delivery of U.S.-backed humanitarian aid. Israel has been largely dependent on American bombs and other weapons in Gaza since Hamas’ Oct. 7 attacks. But Blinken and the administration of President Joe Biden did not accept either finding. Days later, on May 10, Blinken delivered a carefully worded statement to Congress that said, “We do not currently assess that the Israeli government is prohibiting or otherwise restricting the transport or delivery of U.S. humanitarian assistance.”

[...]

Separately, the head of the State Department’s Bureau of Population, Refugees and Migration had also determined that Israel was blocking humanitarian aid and that the Foreign Assistance Act should be triggered to freeze almost $830 million in taxpayer dollars earmarked for weapons and bombs to Israel, according to emails obtained by ProPublica. The U.N. has declared a famine in parts of Gaza. The world’s leading independent panel of aid experts found that nearly half of the Palestinians in the enclave are struggling with hunger. Many go days without eating. Local authorities say dozens of children have starved to death — likely a significant undercount. Health care workers are battling a lack of immunizations compounded by a sanitation crisis. Last month, a little boy became Gaza’s first confirmed case of polio in 25 years. The USAID officials wrote that because of Israel’s behavior, the U.S. should pause additional arms sales to the country. ProPublica obtained a copy of the agency’s April memo along with the list of evidence that the officials cited to back up their findings.

24 September 2024

[earthtooz]

x : AFTERGLOW :*+ﾟ it's all me, just don't go !

in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.

warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.

a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.

you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone. 

your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times. 

when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?

when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?

the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut. 

the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.

so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.

after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.

you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon. 

he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine. 

you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.

and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.

except it doesn’t.  

from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.

you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.

it feels like you’re living with a ghost.

some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin. 

you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence. 

but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you. 

it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time. 

it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.

(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“why are you late?” 

you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension. 

coming home to a house with someone there feels nice. 

he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too. 

“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.

“hello.”

“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.

the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”

(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)

“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”

rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.

when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.

when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.

perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.

“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.

“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”

“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”

he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.

“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”

“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”

your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.

“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”

“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates. 

“it’s not about that-”

“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.” 

there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out. 

rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.

“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.

in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home. 

your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows. 

the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot. 

“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption. 

“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”

you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.

“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”

“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”

“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”

“no.”

“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”

“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.

the silence is deafening and most hurtful. 

you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”

he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”

“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”

the thread keeps unravelling.

“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”

“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”

when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.

he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept. 

the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead. 

that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.

he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.

you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.

except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’. 

the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?

was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?

checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.

he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.

a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.

you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence. 

you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.

reo: Are you still coming to my party?

you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.

y/n: not anymore. what’s up?

reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun

y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?

reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come

reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood

you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it. 

besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.

wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”

“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”

“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”

bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”

a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?” 

the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”

“yeah. reo told me.”

“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”

“i wonder if rin knows.”

“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”

“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”

“probably.”

a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?” 

isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?” 

bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!

but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”

the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs. 

“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.

“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”

“yes but-”

“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”

without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant. 

“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?” 

“nah.”

“agreed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you should have never come to this party.

how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs

“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.

“y/n!” 

“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.

except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.

“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”

“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you. 

“not until you listen to me!”

fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.

you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.

rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.

“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?” 

he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left. 

“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily. 

“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”

“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”

you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”

“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.

“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”

there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.

then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.

quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it. 

he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.

swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”

“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”

“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”

“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”

“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”

“-we won’t work like that.”

“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.” 

the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.

a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart. 

a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him. 

“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

please don’t cry because of me.

“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch. 

rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”

“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?” 

“-i do.”

“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”

“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much? 

still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion. 

even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life, 

you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.” 

“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly. 

“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”

“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”

he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination. 

tears dance along his lashline. 

“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination. 

words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me. 

i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”

the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin. 

“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this. 

you cave. “how will you fix us?” 

slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.

second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will. 

third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation. 

plus, it gives rin more time with you.

fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times. 

fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.

sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.

and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).

rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.

now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his. 

then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.

a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you. 

you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[natelm2nd]

A scene from Parks and Rec April Ludgate has scheduled all of Ron Swanson's meetings for March 31st. She didn't think March 31st existed. Ron is about to be grumpier than usual.

you can only reblog this today

[romugh]

SHE'S ON THE FLOOR ROLLING HER EYES AT ME- SJ

ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER

october 25th — stress relief, free use, friends with benefits

DAY SIXTEEN || kinktober masterlist || 2024.

pairing- scarlett johansson x fem!reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!scarly,

wc- 10 276 words

a/n- wrote this as i kept refreshing ticketswap in the hopes of scoring some last minute CAS tickets, and edited this for the past four days... i'm still not happy with it, but this is what you get! anyhow, got chase atlantic tickets for in april so i'm happy :ppp (recognise the title = smooch!)

synopsis- scarly + needy + strappy? = baby?? if only lol

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches, @lizziewitchy ❀, @simpforlizzie, @riyaexee - comment or dm to be added :)

DISCLAIMER- i don’t believe any of what i write about real celebrities is or would be real, neither do i ever want to shove it down said celebrities faces. in fact, i'd rather they never see these kind of fics.

these fics ARE AU original pieces of fiction using actors as a general basis/face claim, so no need to spam my dm's saying 'writing rpf is wrong' :)

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as you lay there, awake, with Scarlett nestled against you. Her body was draped over yours, one hand possessively holding your breast while the other gripped your shoulder tightly, as if she could anchor herself to you even in sleep. The gentle weight of her head resting on your chest brought a sense of tranquillity that contrasted with the restless nights she’d had lately, filled with endless to-do lists and the persistent hum of stress. Now, though, she seemed at peace—almost.

You felt the subtle movements of her body, the way her hips shifted and rocked in slow, rhythmic circles against your pelvis and abdomen. Even in sleep, Scarlett sought comfort, pressing her heat into you as if trying to chase away the tension that had become a constant companion. Soft breaths escaped her parted lips, each exhale slightly ragged as it caught on a moan, the sound barely audible but unmistakably there. Her brows drew together faintly, and her fingers tightened against your skin, clutching as though seeking reassurance, her subconscious yearning for the comfort only you could give.

You didn’t dare to wake her. She had been so tired, her exhaustion carved into the hollows beneath her eyes and etched across the lines of her face. It wasn’t just physical fatigue; it was something deeper, more draining—a kind of weariness that came from giving too much of herself to the demands of work and the expectations of others. She was juggling too many roles, always on the go, always striving to meet impossibly high standards. You had seen her push through days where every smile was a mask, her energy stretched thin, yet she still found ways to keep moving forward, never quite allowing herself the luxury of simply stopping.

Watching her now, you saw hints of the toll it had taken. The slight tremor in her exhale, the restless way her body sought friction, and the quiet whimper that escaped her throat—it all spoke of needs that had been left unattended, desires she had pushed aside because there simply wasn’t enough time or space for them. But here, in the stillness of your shared bed, her defences were down, and her body’s quiet pleading told you what she couldn’t say aloud: she needed release, a moment of surrender to let go of everything that had built up inside her.

As her hips continued their slow, unconscious grind against you, a sense of protectiveness welled up in your chest. You wanted to give her what she needed, to be the balm that soothed her stress away. There had been moments over the past week when her frustration seeped through in small, uncharacteristic snaps—brief flashes of irritability that hinted at just how much she was holding in. The way her voice would rise slightly when she answered the phone, or the way her replies grew shorter and more clipped as the day wore on.

You thought back to last night, when she had come home late again, her shoulders slumped and her gaze distant. When you had greeted her with a warm hug, she had melted into you, but her embrace had been tight, almost desperate, as though she was trying to ground herself in the solidity of your presence. There had been a tension there, an unspoken plea that came out in the way she clung to you a little longer than usual before letting go. Her laugh, when you managed to draw one out of her, had been tinged with a weariness that spoke of more than just a long day—it was the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could cure.

Now, as she shifted restlessly against you, you could see all the signs, her stress manifesting in the unconscious roll of her hips and the quiet moans that slipped past her lips. She was craving not only the release of tension but the comfort of surrendering control, of letting someone else take the reins so she could simply be. 

With gentle fingers, you brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, watching the faint crease between her brows smooth out at your touch. The small sigh that followed seemed to echo through the quiet room, a sound that stirred something deep within you—something protective and possessive. You wanted to take care of her, to give her a space where she could let go completely. And perhaps that was what had driven your decision to surprise her later, to bring not only her favourite lunch but something extra, something that could offer the kind of comfort and release she so clearly needed.

You knew that later today, when you showed up at her office with the surprise lunch in hand, there would be a moment of recognition in her eyes—a quiet understanding of what you were offering her, not just a meal but an escape. And if she needed more than just a break from her day, if she needed to be taken to that place where she could let go completely, then you would be ready to give it to her. For now, though, you would let her sleep, cradled in your arms, her breath hot against your skin as her body continued to move in that slow, seeking rhythm.

Slowly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb her as she slept. A quick glance at the time told you it was nearly seven. Scarlett would need to get up soon, another busy day at the Outset office awaiting her. You considered waking her gently, but as her fingers tightened on your breast, you decided to let her rest just a little longer. She needed every bit of sleep she could get.

The day moved quickly after that. Scarlett had woken with a groggy smile, briefly leaning up to kiss you good morning before hurrying off to get ready. There was a hint of frustration in her movements as she pulled on a dress and hurriedly applied her infamous “three-step routine” in the bathroom mirror. It was subtle, but you could tell—she was rushing to keep up with the day before it had even begun.

When you made your way to the kitchen to prepare her coffee, you heard her phone buzzing incessantly on the countertop. It seemed as though even before she stepped into the office, work was pulling her away. She grumbled under her breath when she picked up the phone, irritation flashing in her eyes as she scanned through the endless messages and emails. You didn’t comment on it, only offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand as she passed by, but you felt the weight of her stress growing heavier by the minute.

Later that morning, as you packed the Thai dishes you’d just made—Scarlett’s favourites, the comforting aromas already filling the kitchen—you glanced at the clock. Time was running out, but the idea of surprising her made you move with purpose. 

You slipped them into a small cooler bag, and you couldn’t help but picture the look of pleasant surprise on Scarlett’s face when you walked into her office. She’d appreciate the gesture, you were sure of it. But you knew there was something else she needed, something she wouldn’t say out loud, and you wanted to be prepared for that, too.

With that thought, you made your way over to your shared wardrobe. Sliding open the wooden door, you rummaged through the lower shelf, past neatly folded stacks of Scarlett's favourite Black Widow pillowcase and spare blankets, until your hand found the strap stored in its leather case. You unzipped the case and pulled out the deep black silicone toy, its length heavy and textured with faint ridges. It wasn’t built for delicate moments like teasing or taking in one’s mouth; it was for pushing boundaries, for reaching places that nothing else could. Its girth was substantial—wide enough to fill completely without room for doubt, designed to stretch with every thrust.

You ran your fingers along the smooth, cool surface before setting it aside to grab the harness. The straps of the harness were made of black leather, worn soft over time from use and care, with an O-ring securely fitted in the centre to hold the base of the strap in place. It took a few moments to adjust the straps around your hips and thighs, tightening each buckle to ensure the harness fit snugly. Once you were satisfied with the fit, you slipped the strap into place, its weight settling low between your legs as you clicked it firmly into the O-ring.

Before pulling your pants back on to leave, you reached for one of Scarlett’s belts—a black leather strip with a gleaming buckle in the shape of a heart, adorned with the red emblem of a black widow spider nestled in the middle. The buckle’s metal was darkened slightly from wear, the edges smooth to the touch. Looping the belt through the harness straps, you cinched it tight around your waist to keep the strap hidden firmly in place.

You took a moment to adjust the angle of the strap and the harness, pulling your trousers over everything until the toy was concealed against your body, its outline invisible beneath the fabric unless one knew exactly where to look. If Scarlett didn’t want anything more than a warm embrace, you could keep the strap hidden. But if she did—if she gave you that look, the one that said she needed you to take charge—then you’d be ready. Either way, you were prepared to give her what she needed, whether that was a moment of emotional comfort or the kind of release only you could provide.

You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror before grabbing the cooler bag and heading out the door.

You stepped outside, bag in hand, as the crisp late-morning air greeted you. The cool breeze brushed against your cheeks, a contrast to the warmth of the sun breaking through the clouds above. With a sense of determination, you slid into the driver’s seat of your car, the leather interior cool against your back. You placed the bag carefully in the passenger seat and buckled up, a flutter of anticipation running through you as you started the engine.

The drive to the Outset office wasn’t a long one, but the anticipation made it feel like the minutes stretched on. The city was alive with its usual buzz—cars whizzing by, pedestrians rushing to their destinations, the distant hum of conversation in the streets. As you navigated the familiar route, your mind wandered back to Scarlett, imagining her sitting at her desk, probably typing furiously on her laptop or going over product launch strategies. You knew her well enough to guess that she was immersed in a whirlwind of tasks, the weight of responsibilities bearing down on her.

With each stoplight you passed, you could feel a rising excitement in your chest—a mix of eagerness to see her and the hope that you could lighten her burden, even just for a little while. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel as you thought of her reaction when she realised that you hadn't actually forgotten to pack her lunch. The idea of catching her off-guard, of seeing that flicker of relief in her eyes, was almost as satisfying as the thought of finally getting your arms back around her.

Turning onto the street that led to the Outset office, the sleek, modern building came into view. Its glass façade reflected the blue sky, towering high above the bustling city below. You pulled into the underground parking garage, your car’s tires humming softly on the polished concrete. Finding a space close to the elevator, you parked and grabbed the cooler bag from the passenger seat, taking a moment to steady your breath. The coolness of the bag’s handle against your palm anchored you as you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for Scarlett’s floor.

As the elevator ascended, a faint hum reverberated beneath your feet, and you glanced at your reflection in the polished metal doors. The smooth surface captured the outline of your figure—a blend of strength and softness. Your broad shoulders filled the frame, the muscles sculpted from years of dedication and routine, yet there was a distinct femininity in the curve of your waist and the subtle swell of your hips. The light fabric of your shirt stretched slightly across your chest, hinting at the toned definition beneath while still showcasing your natural shape.

The faint glint of the heart-shaped buckle peeked through, just barely visible under the hem of your shirt. The black widow emblem in the centre was a playful nod to Scarlett's iconic role, a small but powerful symbol of your connection, one that spoke of shared secrets and mutual interests. The way the belt cinched at your waist, securing the strap snugly against you, made you feel empowered, ready for whatever the moment would bring.

You allowed yourself a small, satisfied smile, the reflection staring back at you with a quiet confidence that came not just from physical strength but from the knowledge of what awaited on the other side of the elevator doors. As the chime announced your arrival on Scarlett’s floor, you took a deep breath and straightened your posture, the movement of your muscles rippling subtly beneath your shirt.

Stepping out into the office, you let the brisk, cool air of the space brush over you. The Outset headquarters was its usual bustle of productivity, a place where sleek modernity met the frantic energy of constant motion. It was an environment Scarlett thrived in, even when the pressure was relentless. Her office came into view, the glass walls giving a clear sightline to her slender figure moving restlessly inside, one hand pressing a phone to her ear while the other gestured animatedly.

You walked with purpose, your frame cutting a path through the hallway as you approached her office. The slight click of your shoes on the floor echoed softly in the open space. The moment you reached her door, you paused, catching sight of Scarlett’s tense figure through the glass. She was pacing, her brows knit together in that familiar way she did when she was overwhelmed, the muscles in her jaw flexing as she spoke into the phone.

You noticed the fatigue etched into Scarlett’s face as soon as you walked through the door. Her eyes were slightly red from exhaustion, and the lines of tension around her mouth made it clear that she was on edge. The moment she spotted you, a flicker of relief flashed across her features, quickly replaced by a kind of resignation as she let out a deep breath.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said, her voice strained and weary. “It’s been one thing after another all morning. Deadlines keep getting pushed up, and I’ve got interns running around like headless chickens. Nobody seems to know what they’re doing, and—” Her voice trembled as it rose in frustration. “I just…I don’t have the time or the patience to keep dealing with every little crisis. I swear, it’s like no one can make a decision without asking me first.”

Her words came out in a rush, each one clipped and hurried as if she could barely keep up with her own thoughts. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her forehead, and you could see the strain in the way her shoulders hunched slightly, the weight of all the things she was juggling pressing down on her.

You stepped closer, catching her eye as you listened without interrupting, letting her vent. She continued, her frustration spilling over into a few harsher words about some pressing deadlines and missed calls from her acting manager. The mounting stress was evident in her quick, shallow breaths, her gaze darting restlessly between you and the paperwork scattered across her desk.

“It’s just been…too much,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I haven’t had a second to breathe.”

You moved with quiet purpose, closing the gap between you and Scarlett. Your hands found her waist gently, your touch firm but reassuring. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re doing everything you can.”

She flinched slightly at the contact, a reflexive reaction to the stress rather than anything else, but then her body seemed to recognize the comfort you offered. You guided her back toward her chair, steering her with gentle pressure from your hands, easing her away from the tense stance she’d held moments before. Scarlett's protests died down as you led her to the chair and then took a seat yourself, pulling her down onto your lap.

Scarlett's body sank into yours with a quiet exhale, her initial rigidity slowly giving way as she leaned into your chest. She brought her knees up onto the chair on either side of you, settling into the embrace as if finally allowing herself a few seconds of rest. You wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her close, the warmth of your body providing a buffer against the coldness of her stress.

“Just take a moment,” you murmured against her temple, your voice steady and calm. “You’ve been carrying so much.”

Scarlett rested her head on your shoulder, her breath coming out in a shuddering sigh. “Feels like there’s never enough time,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and fragile in a way that twisted something inside you. Her fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, as though clinging to the security of having you there.

You ran a hand through her hair, letting your fingers glide soothingly over her scalp, down to the nape of her neck, where you massaged in slow, steady circles. “There’s always time to take a break,” you assured her. “Even if it’s just for a few minutes.”

Her shoulders sank further, and you could feel the weight begin to lift ever so slightly. The quiet, intimate space you’d carved out in the chaos of her day wasn’t just about distraction or indulgence; it was about giving her permission to let go, to feel cared for in a way that went beyond the demands of her hectic world.

You brushed your fingers through Scarlett's hair, gently separating the strands as she curled closer against you. Her breathing had steadied, the tension in her muscles melting away little by little. The familiar comfort of her weight on your lap felt grounding as you began to braid her hair. Each twist and fold of the strands was a rhythmic motion, a quiet act of care that seemed to ease the lingering anxiety from her frame. Scarlett nestled into your chest, her head tucked beneath your chin, the warmth of her body melding with yours.

She was still exhausted, too worn out to notice anything beyond the calming sensation of your hands weaving through her hair. The strap beneath your clothes remained hidden, out of her mind and out of sight. You worked slowly, not wanting to rush the moment, letting Scarlett sink into the quiet reprieve, her fingers resting lightly on your biceps as you braided with steady precision.

The sound of the office door swinging open shattered the stillness. Jasmine, one of the newer interns, stood hesitantly in the doorway, a stack of folders clutched in her hands. “Um, Ms. Johansson, I just need you to—”

Scarlett's head snapped up, a frustrated sigh slipping out before she could hold it back. “Jasmine, this isn’t the time,” she cut in sharply, her voice carrying a bite that was usually softened by her usual patience. “I’ve told you a hundred times, if it’s not urgent, then leave it on the desk downstairs. I don’t have the bandwidth to handle everything right now. And please, call me Scarlett, I’ve told you already.”

The young intern stiffened at the reprimand, mumbling a hasty apology before backing out of the room. As the door clicked shut behind her, Scarlett slumped against you again, letting out a weary breath. “These interns are morons,” she mumbled, her tone softening with a reluctant fondness. “But I still love them.”

A chuckle rumbled in your chest at her words, the familiar warmth of your amusement bringing a slight smile to Scarlett’s lips. You could feel her body relax a little more, giving in to the comforting weight of your arms around her.

“Do you feel like eating?” you asked gently, stroking a hand down her back in soothing circles. Before Scarlett could answer, her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl that filled the quiet of the room. Scarlett let out a small, tired laugh, her head tilting back against your shoulder. “You didn’t pack my lunch or snacks or even make breakfast,” she mumbled in a small, almost whiny voice, her cheeks flushing with the faintest hint of embarrassment. “But I still love you… I’m just… hungry.”

You couldn’t help but coo softly, tightening your arms around her as you cradled her closer, allowing her to sink deeper into the embrace. You gently brushed a thumb across her cheek, taking in the weary lines beneath her eyes and the slight tremble in her voice. It wasn’t just hunger. It was a need that ran deeper, a desire for someone to take over for a little while, to let her stop carrying the weight of everything around her. Scarlett wasn’t asking for anything physical; she was reaching for reassurance, for the kind of care that allowed her to let go without the burden of being in control.

As you held her, you could feel her need to be taken care of, not in a sexual way, but in a way that reminded her she didn’t always have to be the strong one. There were times when she could lean on you completely and let you guide her through the chaos. You recognized that this was one of those times, and you wanted to show her that she could let go and be vulnerable without fear of judgement.

Before you could continue coaxing Scarlett into taking a break, the door creaked open again, this time revealing Kate. She took one look at the two of you, immediately picking up on the subtle shift in Scarlett’s posture and the protective way you held her. “Hey, I just wanted to check in—”

Scarlett didn’t respond, her eyes fluttering shut as she nestled back into the crook of your neck, ignoring the intrusion completely. Without a word, you lifted a hand, signing to Kate to give you both a little time. She gave a knowing smile, the kind that carried sympathy and understanding in equal measure, mouthing, ‘take care of her.’

You nodded appreciatively, watching as Kate quietly exited the office, pulling the door shut behind her. With a reassuring smile, you reached over and pressed the button that made the walls go from transparent to an opaque blackish tint, effectively sealing the room from prying eyes and granting Scarlett the privacy she so desperately needed.

Now cocooned in the peaceful dimness of the room, Scarlett seemed to relax even further, her breathing evening out as she sank completely into you. The weight of her exhaustion was palpable, and as you held her, you felt the silent gratitude in the way she clung to you, allowing herself, just for a moment, to be taken care of.

As began to feed Scarlett, it became increasingly clear just how much she was depending on you to guide her through every motion. She didn’t even lift her hand to help, allowing you to bring each bite to her lips and waiting passively for the next, her eyelids fluttering lazily shut between each mouthful. Her body moulded against yours, completely relaxed as if she’d given up any pretence of staying in control. You held her securely, making sure each bite was small and manageable, soothing her with your touch as you rubbed slow, steady circles against her thigh.

Scarlett’s breathing grew deeper and steadier as lunch went on, her tension melting away with every gentle caress and each soft word of encouragement you whispered. It was as though she were slowly being untangled, one knot at a time, her exhaustion finally seeping through and sapping what little energy she had left. The last few bites came and went, and when the food was finished, Scarlett rested her head against your shoulder, her arms draped loosely around you.

You set the chopsticks aside and adjusted her in your lap, wrapping her up in your embrace. Scarlett nestled deeper into you, her cheek pressed against your clothed collarbone, and you felt the weight of her beginning to sag. Her breathing became slow and even, and before long, her head lolled slightly as she slipped into a light sleep. You stroked her hair gently, the rhythmic motion comforting for both of you. As you watched her drift off, you couldn't help but notice the signs that had been appearing over the last few days—little hints that Scarlett was edging toward a kind of subspace, almost involuntarily.

It wasn’t the typical kind of subspace brought on by intimacy or desire; this was different, driven by sheer exhaustion and the need to relinquish the burden of control. The signs had been building, subtle at first—a slightly glazed look in her eyes when you’d run your fingers through her hair after a long day, the way her body would lean into you whenever you touched her, how her breathing would hitch when you whispered reassurances that she didn’t have to worry about anything for a while.

Flashbacks surfaced as you continued to soothe her, recalling the moments from the past few days that had hinted at her state. There had been an evening where she’d come home unusually late, her voice thin and frayed as she’d told you about all the missed deadlines and last-minute changes at work. You’d taken her coat off for her, helped her undress, and she’d stood there, motionless, as if she couldn’t muster the will to do anything but let you handle it. She’d sighed so deeply when you’d wrapped a blanket around her, her shoulders finally slumping with relief.

And then there was the morning she’d snapped at you about the coffee grounds being spilled on the counter before having rushed out the door. Frustration had flashed across her features before her expression had crumpled into a look of apology. She’d slumped against you right after, her forehead pressed against your chest as she whispered a string of soft “I’m sorry”s, letting you comfort her without any resistance. It was as if her need to be taken care of had become so great that she couldn't help but fall into it, the strain of trying to keep everything together becoming too much for her to bear alone.

Now, as Scarlett lay slumped in your lap, her breathing deep and even, you recognized the same look on her face—the softness around her eyes, the slight parting of her lips as she gave in to the comfort of your embrace. She was surrendering completely, leaning into the safety you provided and allowing herself to rest. It wasn’t a conscious choice; it was simply what she needed—someone to take over, to give her the space to let go of everything that had been weighing on her.

You continued to stroke her now braided hair, your fingers moving with a slow, reassuring rhythm, as you watched over her.

As Scarlett nestled further into your lap, her body began to shift again, the familiar rhythm of her movements returning. Her hips rolled slowly against you, just as they had that morning, with a gradual, seeking motion that brushed against your pelvis. Your hands moved to stroke her back, your touch soft and comforting, as if you were simply soothing her back into sleep. But as the moments passed, her breath began to catch, the quiet exhalations becoming small, needy whines that told you everything she couldn’t articulate. They were faint, almost imperceptible, yet heavy with meaning, spilling out with every unconscious shift of her hips.

She ground down in one particular motion, her breath catching sharply as if that angle had jolted her back to consciousness. Her eyes flew open, wide and glazed, but not quite seeing—her gaze locked on you, pupils blown, lips parted in a silent plea. You smiled gently, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, one that had slipped loose from the braid you’d woven half an hour earlier. Your hand lingered against her cheek, the tender touch grounding her as she trembled in your arms.

You didn’t move beyond that, didn’t try to push her one way or the other. You simply watched her, letting her find her own pace. Her grinding became more insistent, her hips rocking down harder, and her eyes searched yours with a quiet desperation. Her breath hitched again, the whine that escaped her lips now unmistakably filled with need. It was as though she was asking without words, leaning into you with all the yearning and exhaustion she had kept bottled up.

You ran your thumb along her cheek, brushing over the warmth of her flushed skin as you whispered softly, “You have to be quiet, Scarlett. We’re still in your office.” Your voice was steady, calm, as though coaxing her back to the reality of the room around you.

But Scarlett shook her head, her hair falling loose from the braid, the motion sending a shiver through her frame. She looked up at you with glassy eyes, her voice barely above a murmur, slurred with fatigue and longing, “Please just– make me feel good. Please, need it, need you.” The vulnerable pleas spilled from her lips, her tone so small and fragile, laden with all the need she’d been holding back.

You nodded slowly, your voice a calming murmur as you traced the curve of Scarlett's spine with your fingertips. "Okay, sweetheart," you whispered, “but only if you keep working. I’ll be right here with you…I’m not going anywhere.” Your reassurance seemed to steady her, a small spark of relief lighting up her eyes. She looked back at you, her lips trembling with need, before nodding faintly, as if agreeing to the terms in the only way she could.

Her hands moved to your waist, fumbling as she pushed your shirt and sweater up and struggled to free the strap from beneath the belt. Her fingers were clumsy with anticipation, each tug growing more frantic as she wrestled with the buckle. The blush that crept across her cheeks deepened into a rosy hue when she realised it was her favourite belt—the heart-shaped buckle with the Black Widow symbol a familiar sight. She hesitated for a breath, her eyes widening when it dawned on her just what you’d brought along.

Scarlett’s breath stuttered as the realisation sank in further, her skin flushing all the way down her neck. It was her favourite strap, the one she’d always gravitated toward when she wanted to feel utterly full and stretched to her limit. It wasn’t exactly discreet—meant for deep, satisfying penetration rather than anything subtle. Yet, here you were, prepared to have her on your lap while she tried to continue with her work, the mere thought making her heart pound in her chest.

She shifted on your lap, her dress sliding up as she positioned herself just right. The hem bunched up around her waist, enough to hide most of the intimate act from any wandering eyes. Her breath hitched sharply as she eased herself down, feeling the initial resistance before the strap slid deeper inside her, stretching her with a slow and deliberate pressure. Her moan came out as a half-stifled whine, the needy sound echoing in the small space of the office as she sank all the way down onto your lap. The fullness made her tremble, her thighs pressing into yours as she tried to get used to the sensation.

You shrugged off your sweater, knowing that technically, anyone could just walk in the room. The office was surprisingly cold, and you didn’t want to risk her becoming uncomfortable, so as an extra measure, you reached over Scarlett’s head and pulled the oversized hoodie down over her frame, adjusting it until it covered her almost completely, draping over her like a protective shield. Now, if anyone did happen to walk in, they’d see nothing but a cosy moment—Scarlett resting in your lap, wrapped in an oversized hoodie, looking every bit like she was simply leaning on you for comfort as she typed away on her laptop.

Her hands settled against the desk to steady herself, and you continued to caress her back over the fabric of her dress, letting her adjust at her own pace. There was a softness to your touch, a reassurance in the slow, steady movements that told her she didn’t need to rush.

As Scarlett nestled deeper into your lap, you could feel her surrendering to the moment, inching closer and closer to that delicate line of subspace where she felt safe, cherished, and utterly at peace. The way her breath began to deepen, slow and steady, was like music to your ears. It was a sure sign that she was slipping further into that blissful state of submission, her fingers moving sluggishly over her keyboard as if every keystroke required more effort than usual.

The trust she placed in you was palpable, and it made your heart swell. You watched as she leaned back against you, her body curving against yours, her entire demeanour softening with every gentle caress. It was almost intoxicating to see her give in so completely, the tension of the past weeks melting away as she became pliable in your arms.

To draw her even deeper into that trance, you began to tease her with soft commands and subtle touches, each action deliberately crafted to heighten her anticipation. “Keep working for me, babe,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing. Your fingers trailed along her back, sending shivers through her as you coaxed her further into the depths of her submission.

With every slow stroke, you could feel a different kind of tension building within her. Scarlett's breaths became shaky, little whimpers escaping her lips as her body reacted to your ministrations. You kept her on that precipice, refusing to let her find that release she craved. Hours slipped by, and with each passing moment, you noticed how her arousal grew. She was already so wet, the evidence of her need staining the fabric beneath her as she almost unnoticeably rolled her hips in a rhythmic, unconscious dance, seeking friction against you.

By the time the clock struck 6 pm, it became clear to you just how far she had fallen into that deep mindset. Her expression was one of pure need, eyes glazed over as she looked at you over her shoulder with an almost dazed desperation. The way her lips parted, the soft gasps spilling forth from her throat, and the subtle way her walls pulsed around your strap told you everything you needed to know.

“Please…” she murmured, her voice soft yet filled with urgency. “Make me forget.”

Those words sent a thrill through you, igniting a fire in your belly as you realised just how close she was to losing herself completely. The constant fullness had become a torment for her, a tantalising tease that simply wasn’t enough anymore.

With a firm grip on Scarlett’s waist, you lift her from your lap slowly, savouring every reaction as the thick length of the strap brushes over each nerve, dragging against her sensitive walls. Each inch you pull her away is torturously slow, every movement controlled, intentional, and you watch as her breath hitches, her eyes fluttering shut. Scarlett clings to your shoulders, lips parting with a soft gasp as her body shudders, helpless to the way each nerve is ignited with need. Finally, the strap slips free, leaving an obscenely wet sound in its wake, accompanied by a slick warmth dripping down her inner thighs.

 For a moment, you catch a glimpse of your mark left within her, her entrance still slightly gaping, pulsing, a visible reminder of her submission.

As you guide her to her feet, her legs are shaky, nearly giving out beneath her, but she’s obedient, unwavering in her focus, her mouth slightly parted, breaths coming in shallow waves.

“Good girl,” you murmured as Scarlett sank to her knees in front of you, her legs trembling from the effort. Every inch of her body speaks of surrender, from the lingering imprint of the strap to the way her thighs tremble as she kneels, waiting. You’re captivated, and that familiar thrill rises in your chest, igniting as she stares up at you, ready, trusting, and open to whatever you decide comes next. There was something undeniably captivating about the sight of her like this—kneeling obediently before you, her body still pulsing from the fullness that had just been taken away.

Another gush of wetness dripped down her inner thighs as she stayed on the floor, the evidence of her arousal glistening in the dim lighting of the office. You could see the way her skin flushed as she breathed heavily, eyes locked onto yours with a mix of exhaustion and submission.

“Stay right there,” you commanded, your voice soft yet firm as you reached for Scarlett’s laptop. “I’ll finish your work.”

Scarlett’s lips parted in a quiet sigh as she rested her hands on her thighs, her posture completely surrendered. She looked up at you with a gaze that was filled with trust and need, her body still trembling in the aftermath of the pleasure you had denied her for so long. It was clear she was still deep in her submissive headspace, her mind willing to follow your every word.

You placed the laptop in front of you on the desk, positioning it so that you could type while still maintaining a steady gaze on her. Scarlett remained still, eyes heavy-lidded as she watched your every movement, her breath hitching each time you shifted your attention back to her.

You felt Scarlett’s head grow heavier against your thigh as she began to drift, exhaustion wrapping around her like a shroud. You stroked her hair gently, pity filling your chest as you looked down at her. She was clearly on the brink of falling asleep, her breath deep and steady, her body lax and surrendered. But that wasn’t what you wanted for her—not yet. She needed to stay awake, even if just for a little while longer.

“What would help you, sweetheart?” you asked, your tone laced with gentle authority as your hand continued to comb through her loose hair. The question stirred her from the edges of sleep, her eyelashes fluttering as she blinked up at you with a dazed expression. You already knew the answer, your chest tightening in anticipation as you watched her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink.

Scarlett’s eyes dropped to the strap that glistened between the two of you, wet and thick from being inside her just moments ago. The blush on her cheeks spread down her neck as she glanced back up at you, meeting your expectant gaze. Her lips parted, a small, needy sound escaping her as she reached up, her fingers curling around the base of the strap, but you tutted softly and shook your head.

“My princess knows to ask before taking,” you reminded her, your voice a mixture of softness and firmness. Scarlett’s eyes widened at the reprimand, a lone tear slipping down her flushed cheek as she let out a frustrated whine. She immediately lowered her gaze, her face nuzzling against your thigh to shield herself from the weight of your steady, commanding stare.

She rubbed her cheek against the fabric of your pants, her breath warm against your skin as she tried to gather the courage to speak. The struggle was evident in the way her body tensed and then relaxed again, like she was teetering on the edge of giving in to her desire and retreating into herself. You waited patiently, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her scalp as you felt the heat of her blush spread even further.

“Please…” she whispered, her voice shaky and filled with longing as she turned her head slightly to peek up at you, “Can I…?”

Your hand moved to cup her chin, tilting her face up to meet your gaze fully. “Use your words, Scarlett,” you instructed gently, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Tell me exactly what you need, or want.”

Scarlett's blush deepened as she pressed her lips together, her breath coming in short, uneven puffs. Her gaze flickered up to yours, and for a moment, it seemed like the words were stuck in her throat. But she finally found her voice, though it was timid and soft, barely above a whisper.

“Can I… suck your cock?” Her tone was a mix of hesitation and desperate need, her eyes searching yours for any sign of approval.

Your brow arched, the faintest hint of amusement curling at the corners of your lips. “And why do you want to do that, sweetheart?” you asked, voice low and calm, your thumb still resting against her chin.

Scarlett hesitated again, her blush spreading to the tips of her ears as she swallowed hard. “B-Because… it helps me,” she stammered, her voice faltering under the weight of her own admission. “It helps me… ground myself.”

Your eyebrow arched a bit higher, and Scarlett's cheeks burned even hotter. Another tear rolled down her flushed face, and she shifted uncomfortably on her knees, the movement betraying just how vulnerable she felt. The sight of her so deep into her own embarrassment tugged at something tender within you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you traced your fingers along her cheek, your touch as gentle as your voice was firm.

“You know this isn’t a strap for sucking, don’t you, Scarlett?” you replied, your tone taking on an almost childlike quality as you tilted your head slightly. “It’s too big, sweetheart. I doubt you could even get half of it into that pretty mouth of yours.”

The humiliation was evident in the way Scarlett’s breath hitched and her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, as though trying to shut out the reality of your words. She hadn’t thought about it—not in the way you were explaining it now—and the realisation only made her blush harder. But then, her gaze found yours again, and the fire of determination burned behind the haze of submission. She shook her head, the movement small and insistent, as though a child refusing to admit defeat.

“I… I can do it,” she whispered, her voice trembling yet resolute. “I’m… I’m a big girl. A good girl.” There was a pleading in her eyes now, a desperation to prove herself, even as she quivered under your touch.

Scarlett's lips wrapped around your length, her breaths coming in soft, needy whimpers as she took you deeper with each bob of her head, her tear-streaked cheeks flushed and glistening. The room was silent except for the obscene, wet sounds filling the air, each desperate suck drawing her further into a space where her only focus was you, and pleasing you.

Her hands instinctively gripped your thighs for support, but your fingers threaded through her hair, tugging her back just enough to make her gasp. "Only please me with that pretty mouth of yours, princess. Hands behind your back," you murmured, your voice gentle yet unyielding.

A soft whine slipped from her lips as she obeyed, her hands slowly moving to clasp together behind her. The moment she relinquished that bit of control, the trust in her gaze only deepened, her vulnerability on full display as she gave herself over to you completely.

Scarlett’s determination shone in her glassy eyes, each tear staining her flushed cheeks and smearing her mascara. Her jaw worked tirelessly, her lips stretching around you as she pushed herself further, cheeks hollowing as she tried to take more of you, to meet your silent approval. She was so close, and the thought of making you proud fueled her every motion. Her breathing hitched when she reached her limit, her throat fluttering around you, but she pressed on, determined to make you proud, the weight of your gaze driving her to keep going.

Tears streamed freely as she strained, her whimpers muffled against you, her resolve unwavering. She was yours—utterly and unquestionably—and that trust wrapped around every hitch of her breath, every soft sob as she looked up at you, wordlessly asking for your approval.

Without a single word, you slipped your hand from her hair to cup her jaw, guiding her gently but firmly, pushing her down further onto the thick strap. Scarlett’s eyes fluttered, her throat contracting as she gagged, and the wet sounds grew louder. She tried to maintain her rhythm, even as tears mixed with her gentle make-up and streaked her flushed cheeks, but she never once pulled back or looked away. Her gaze stayed locked onto yours, wide and glossy, the vivid green of her irises nearly lost in the depth of her pupils.

You brushed your thumb across her cheek, a silent approval, watching the way she responded, eager and desperate to please. Her breaths came in choked gasps between each plunge, drool slipping from the corners of her mouth and trailing down her chin, mixing with her wet remnants already coating your strap. She was a vision of need and devotion, every part of her vulnerable and open, as though she’d surrendered not just her body but her very soul to you.

With every inch she took, she sank deeper, her whole being focused on this moment, this act of submission. The look in her eyes said it all: you were her entire world right now, the centre of her universe. And in that gaze, through her tear-streaked face and soft, muffled sounds of effort and adoration, you saw everything—her trust, her willingness, her absolute need to be yours.

Your fingers slip beneath Scarlett's chin, pausing her as she eagerly works over the strap, her lips glistening, cheeks flushed. You gently tug her back by her hair, watching as her gaze lifts to meet yours, her eyes heavy with a mixture of need and reverence. A quiet whimper slips from her, the loss of contact a sudden ache, but she doesn’t question it—she simply obeys, letting you guide her upwards.

As you guide Scarlett up from her knees, her breaths are still heavy, cheeks flushed a deep red that only adds to the haze of submission in her eyes. Your hands rest firmly in her hair, both grounding and possessive, as she rises, her hands slipping from your thighs to brace herself. The heat of her skin against you, the way she follows your lead without resistance, only deepens the thrill settling in your chest.

When she’s fully standing, you keep that hold on her, savouring the haze in her eyes, the way she’s waiting, hanging on your next move. Her breaths come shallowly, still tinted with the intensity of submission, her lips parted as if they’re still moulding themselves around your strap. You slide a hand to her waist, guiding her step-by-step back until her thighs brush the edge of her desk, a slight shiver running through her at the contact. Your hand releases her hair, trailing softly down her cheek as you turn, carefully moving her laptop to the side and making room for exactly where you want her next.

The moment you step back, Scarlett moves with unrestrained need, perching herself on the edge of her desk. Her hands move purposefully across the surface, sweeping documents and pens to the floor behind her without hesitation, clearing everything that separates her from you. Pages scatter around her feet like fallen leaves, forgotten in the moment as she leans back slightly, resting her hands on the desk for balance. Her parted thighs cradle the space between you, inviting you closer, and her chest rises and falls with each breath, anticipation radiating from her as she watches you.

When you step forward, her hands instinctively find your shoulders, holding onto you like an anchor, her fingers digging in ever so slightly. There’s a look in her eyes—one of complete trust and surrender, mixed with the rawest need. She is wholly yours in this moment, and you know she’d follow wherever you lead, without question. 

With a familiar but sturdy grip on her hips, you pull her close, her warm thighs parting to cradle you as she sits obediently on the edge of her desk, waiting with that unshakable trust and raw need in her eyes. Her hands immediately find your shoulders, clutching onto you as if you’re the only thing grounding her in this moment. Without a moment’s pause, you sink into her, filling her completely. The sheer stretch and fullness has her gasping, back arching as she lets out a guttural moan that echoes through the office.

You don’t hold back, finding a relentless pace that has Scarlett's fingers digging into your shoulders. Every thrust drives deeper, pushing her closer to that raw, untamed place where everything—stress, worry, tension—melts away, leaving only you and her together, bound by the intensity of this moment. Her head falls back, and you can’t help but lean in, pressing a hand gently around her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath your palm as you apply just enough pressure to keep her present, grounded, and so thoroughly yours.

Her breaths become shallow, eyes widening in rapture as you slide three fingers into her mouth. She accepts them eagerly, lips wrapping around them as her eyes flutter shut, sinking further into the rhythm you've set. The way she works her mouth around your fingers, desperate for that grounding sensation, shows just how deeply she’s fallen into her need. She gags slightly as you push in a little further, and you watch, captivated, as her cheeks turn pink once more with the effort, saliva beginning to trail from the corners of her lips.

The framed photo of you two, once sitting so carefully on her desk, topples to the floor with a muffled clatter, but Scarlett doesn’t even notice. Her world is so completely consumed by the feel of you, by the way you’re giving her exactly what she needs, that everything else has faded away. She clings to you even harder, nails pressing into your skin, her whines turning louder, more desperate as your pace grows even more intense, leaving no space for anything but this moment.

Her legs shake as she pulls you even closer, whimpering your name between gasping breaths around your fingers, her body surrendering completely to the rhythm, to you. Her trust, her submission—it’s all yours, and in this pure, raw exchange, you feel her stress, her tension, everything melt away, leaving only the beautiful, messy vulnerability she offers up so willingly.

You hold Scarlett so close that there’s no space left between you, and as your hand slides from her throat to cup her cheek, you murmur soft, grounding words against her lips. “I’ve got you, Scarlett,” you tell her, voice low and steady. “You’re safe. Just let go, baby—I’m right here.” The reassurance, the comfort—each word is like an anchor pulling her back to you as she spirals, her breaths catching in little, desperate gasps. She leans into every touch, every gentle kiss, letting you guide her, fully immersing herself in the trust and safety you've built together.

You feel her need, her trust in you heightening with each stroke, each whispered word, and you can’t help but tighten your hold on her, supporting her through every wave of sensation as she hurtles toward a release so powerful it could only come from the pure connection between you. 

It’s not just sex or making love, not just her body unravelling at your touch—it’s the way she feels seen, cherished, understood. It’s the way you’ve made it clear that nothing matters more than her well-being, her peace. You’d already planned the calls you’ll make, to Kate, to her agency, to give her this week she desperately needs, time to just rest, to be taken care of, with you.

You pick up the pace, pushing her further toward that shattering edge, watching her expression shift, eyes growing glassy, mouth falling open with the sheer intensity of it all. Her body tenses, thighs quivering around you, and you know she’s close, so close. You don’t hold back, murmuring her name, reminding her just how cherished she really is. “Let go for me, Scarlett. I’m here. Just let go, beautiful.”

And when it hits her—a release so overwhelming that it leaves her crying out, voice trembling and raw, her arms are ready to give out, her arched back ready to hit the surface of the desk with a small thud. Her whole body shudders, and you can see her pulse around you as the intensity rips through her, wave after wave, until she’s almost limp in your grip, barely able to keep herself upright. It’s a release that’s more than just physical. You know this moment is everything—safety, trust, the overwhelming knowledge that you love and worship her, flaws and all. One of Scarlett’s hands moves up to cling to your shoulders, nails pressing into your skin as if holding onto you will keep her grounded in this beautiful, freeing sensation.

And maybe, just maybe, you know there’s a part of her—a small, mischievous part that’s always secretly dreamed of this exact moment: of you absolutely wrecking her in her office. But that’s a story for another day.

A surge of need floods through you, and for a moment, you can’t hold back. The way Scarlett looks in front of you, her body open and ready, her trust so complete, ignites something deep inside. You gently push her back to finally hit the desk and slide her knees up, pressing them to her chest, taking in the flushed, glistening sight of her—all red, and achingly sore from how much you’ve already given her. Yet there she is, waiting, craving more.

You start moving again, each thrust deep and deliberate, eyes fixed on where your strap meets her. She’s pulsing around you, slick and needy, her wetness coating the base, leaving a faint, creamy ring with each pull out that only drives you further. Her pussy clenches around you as you thrust, the delicate flesh red and puffy, the way her body is moulding itself around your strap telling you everything you need to know—how much she needed this, how much you’re giving her right now. The red marks around her neck, the remnants of your grip, make your heart race with the raw intimacy, with how deeply she’s let you in, trusting you to push her limits but always knowing you’ll catch her when she falls.

Her face is a masterpiece of pleasure, mascara streaked down her cheeks, her eyelids heavy, lashes clumped from the tears she’s shed in complete surrender to you. Her beautiful lips part in that perfect “O” shape, soft little moans escaping with each movement. You watch her eyes roll back, her brows furrowing as she loses herself completely, letting those helpless “hmm, mmhh” sounds spill past her lips in pure ecstasy. The little gasps she makes, the way she trembles under you—it’s everything. Every reaction pulls you deeper, grounding you in this shared rhythm that’s both raw and profoundly tender, each of you finding something you didn’t even know you actually needed.

You feel her building up again, her body tensing, the pull of her muscles around you signalling that she’s close, so close, and you don’t hold back. You thrust with everything, moving in perfect sync with her, giving her exactly what she needs. And as you watch her, the trust, the love, the way her body is opening for you, you know you’ll stay right here as long as she needs you—filling her, grounding her, cherishing her, in every single way.

You see her tightening around you, each tremor intensifying, her body teetering on that precarious edge, and you know exactly what's coming. Her brows knit together, lips trembling, and with one last, deep thrust, she breaks. You watch as the first wave of her release hits, her walls pulsing around your strap, and then, just as you sink even deeper, you feel it—a sudden, hot rush of wetness spilling over, coating the strap, soaking down through the fabric to your thighs.

The base of your strap is slick and creamy, each pulse of her release making it even messier, her wetness spreading as she rides out the crest of her climax. You know you’ve pushed her somewhere she rarely goes. Her muscles contract so tightly, a light, glistening spray that soaks your clothes and the desk beneath, her body surrendering every ounce of pleasure you’ve built up in her. The sight has you captivated, watching the way her release catches the light, a rare and precious surrender that she only ever reaches when she’s completely given over to you.

This is only the third time she’s ever done it, each time burned into your memory like a treasured secret: once after you’d completely ruined her, left her no choice but to let go, and once after you’d edged her past the point of no return. That day, your phone—with which you had been filming—had been left drenched in the aftermath, proof of just how deeply you could unravel her. But right now, watching her face soften, her body convulse with those final aftershocks, you feel like this might be the most intense and beautiful one yet.

Her chest heaves, cheeks flushed, and she’s dazed, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, yet still locking onto yours with that unmistakable look of devotion.

You keep her close, feeling the tremors slowly fade from her body, gently running your hands over her skin, grounding her with each soft touch. Her breaths are still shallow and shuddering, so you murmur gentle praise, each word a steady reminder that she’s safe and cared for, and that you’re here to guide her back. “You did so well, my love,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m so proud of you… I’ve got you.”

Carefully, you help her sit up, supporting her as her body relaxes into you. Her gaze is still hazy, her pupils blown wide, and you brush a few stray locks of hair back from her forehead, your fingertips warm against her flushed skin. She leans into your hand, eyes fluttering shut as if your touch alone is helping her find her way back. You take your time, reaching for tissues to clean her (and yourself) up, your movements gentle and patient, each pass of the tissue over her skin a silent affirmation of your devotion.

When she’s settled again, you take her hands in yours, kissing each knuckle softly. “This week is yours,” you say softly, looking her in the eyes as she begins to focus on you, fully present again. “No work, no stress. Just you and me.”

You feel her squeeze your hand in response, a subtle but sure sign that she’s starting to ground herself. She takes a deep, slow breath, the look in her eyes shifting, becoming clearer with each passing second. You stay like that, just the two of you in the quiet of her office, letting her absorb everything, taking the time she needs to process.

And when she finally leans into you, resting her head on your shoulder with a small sigh, you know she’s back.

You hold her close, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath against you. She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck, her vulnerability raw and open. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice soft and sincere. “For everything.” There’s a slight tremor in her words, and when you pull back to look into her eyes, you can see the depth of emotion there—a mix of gratitude, trust, and a kind of love that defies words. You bring a hand to her cheek, wiping a stray tear away with your thumb.

“You don’t have to thank me, Scarlett,” you murmur, brushing your lips softly against her forehead. “I’d do this for you a thousand times over. I want you to know that I’m here… always.”

She smiles, the edges of her mouth quirking up even as a blush spreads across her cheeks. For a moment, she just looks at you, as though memorising every detail, every feeling. Then, as if a switch has flipped, her eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “Well then…,’” she says, biting her lip, “we might just have to do it again sometime.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Exhibitionist,” you tease, and she laughs, that light, infectious sound filling the room.

“Only for you,” she replies, resting her head back on your shoulder, the weight of her words and the warmth of her embrace settling over you both like a promise.

“Thanks for the food, by the way. I’m expecting dessert for the rest of the week.”

a/n- i don't know how to feel about this one :') hope yuo guys like it x (sorry for the late post! stayed up and wtched AAA (kill me rn, agathario fics coming up.) and fell asleep! second-to-last kt fic tonight!)

[papyrus-in-practice]

IT'S WORLD MENTAL HEALTH DAY, FOLKS!!!!

So, I wanted to post something a bit different!

A common prompt I use with my clients is a positive affirmation jar which is a project in which the client decorates a jar and writes positive affirmation on slips of paper to keep in the jar. In the case that I run out of jars, I make boxes out of paper. A couple weeks ago, I had an idea while and that was to fuse this prompt and Superhero Therapy.

Superhero therapy was initially conceptualized as a form of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy that used superheroes or other characters from media to facilitate the acceptance of oneself and one’s emotions and the commitment to move forward. 

Clients engaging in superhero therapy may be prompted to reflect on their own experiences in life and identify a “superhero” they may relate to or look up to. “Superheroes” don’t have to be the cape-wearing people with superhuman abilities. They can be any characters we find in any media. What defines a “superhero” in superhero therapy is a character that you can relate to on some level and one that possesses strength, wisdom, or other traits you admire. 

Especially when diving into the topic of change, clients might be encouraged to imagine: if that “superhero” showed up at the exact moment you needed them the most, what kind of message would they tell you? This prompt takes that part and creates a physical object that can relay those messages when you need it most. 

Basically, what I did is I thought of characters that I felt I could relate to or look up to. These are my “superheroes”, characters that have strength, wisdom, or another trait that I admire. I drew these characters out and collaged them onto a box.

After the box was done, I wrote short lines that each character might say to me during times when I need encouragement the most. I made sure to label each one so I knew who was talking. I'm still adding some messages, so it's almost "done".

Since I tend to need encouragement the most when I’m at work, I put it in my office!

It was a fun project and I wanted to share it with y’all.

Quick disclaimer, this isn’t therapy nor any kind of substitute for therapy. This is more of a project I did to essentially play-test a prompt. Still, I think other folks could benefit from doing it, too. We’ve all got our own self-defeating thoughts rampaging through our brains and, sometimes, we need a reminder from our inspirations to direct us towards our values. Superhero therapy is a lot about naming and recognizing our unhelpful thoughts as thoughts. Then, we make the commitment by pursuing our values through the characters we admire

Characters from left to right:

Toriel(Toby Fox's Undertale)

Papyrus(Toby Fox's Undertale/Papyrus in Practice)

Sans(Toby Fox's Undertale)

Doc(@tehrogueva Therapist!Sans)

Baggs(@megalommi Megalosomnia)

Dream(@jokublog Dreamtale)

Nightmare(@jokublog Dreamtale)

I also wanted to shout out @wishing-stones Rabble and Rampallians since I also felt really connected with their portrayal of Baggs, Dream, and Nightmare!

Luz and Eda(The Owl House by Dana Terrace)

Andromachus(Vampire Therapist by Cyrus Nemati, @littlebatgames)

References: 

Scarlet, J., & Alves, W. (2017). Superhero therapy: Mindfulness skills to help teens and young adults deal with anxiety, depression, and trauma. New Harbinger Publications, Inc.

Washington, K. (2019, April 25). What is Superhero Therapy? Denver Health. October 10, 2024, https://www.denverhealth.org/blog/2019/04/what-is-superhero-therapy

[dandylovesturtles]

I lied

this fic is going to have at least four parts. oops.

Sorry this took longer than I intended! I started working on it literally the next day after the first part went up and banged out 3K words, then wrote another 1.5K over the next couple days, ended up hating it, deleted the whole thing and started over. I'm much happier with this version.

I had intended for this part to go deeper into the immediate aftermath buuuut this part ended up so long I decided to make that the next part!

And I got enabled on discord to be mean with the cliffhanger, so... sorry <3

CW: minor violence, angst, nobody having a good time, Bishop being Bishop

btw this is Part 2 of the Room Fic that doesn't have a title yet. If you're confused, start here!

-----

They're somewhere in Nebraska, and Raph's never seen so many stars before.

He thought he had seen stars, when they went camping in the woods that time with Todd. Now, sitting on the side of the road by the Turtle Tank, he's realizing that he didn't really see them.

He wishes he could enjoy it, but he can't. Not really. Because nine days ago, Leo stormed out of the lair and never came home.

(Raph knows the thing he'll always blame himself for is picking the fight in the first place.)

It took them several days to learn what had happened to him. Even more days to learn where he was taken. And now they're stuck on the side of the road in Nebraska while Donnie fixes a flat.

Mikey's dozing against his shoulder. He hasn't been getting enough sleep, not that any of them have. April's handing Donnie tools and keeping him company while he changes the tire. Draxum and Splinter are inside the tank, on the lookout for cops with the help of Donnie's police scanners.

It's cool since the sun went down. Quiet. Crickets are out and playing their songs. Raph's seen a few deer, and an owl. The stars are twinkling overhead, and it's calm, peaceful.

The weight on his shoulder is suddenly gone; Raph looks down to find Mikey sitting up straight, wide awake and head cocked to the side like a bloodhound who just caught a scent.

He opens his mouth to ask - and then he feels it too.

It's a cacophony of emotions, strong and hot and mixing together until they're overwhelming. Fear, pain, exhaustion, loneliness, and a blinding fury like even Raph has never felt before. Hatred and bile and the desire to attack, to harm, to destroy.

And underneath it all, a presence as familiar to him as his own, one that's been by his side since almost the day he was hatched. One that is fragile and desperate and screaming out for help.

Leo.

Raph stands up - next to him, Mikey is already on his feet. Raph reaches out his hand, his ninpo flaring to life, straining out into the open air like if he just stretches far enough, he can pluck Leo out of the hell he's trapped in and bring him home.

But he can't reach far enough, because the EPF took him all the way to Colorado. And they're still on the side of the road in Nebraska.

As quickly as it came, the presence is dying away again. It shrinks smaller and smaller and then fizzles out. Raph releases his breath, letting his ninpo fall away, his fingers still grasping open air.

A sniffle. Raph looks down and finds Mikey sobbing. He scoops his little brother into his arms, and Mikey throws himself into Raph's chest, heaving breaths shaking his tiny frame.

"Leo," he whimpers. All Raph can do is pat his shell.

He turns to take stock of Donnie next, carrying Mikey over. His other little brother has tears trickling down his face, too, more subdued but still visible. He's holding his wrench in a vice grip, and for once he doesn't utter a single protest when Raph reaches out and tucks him in under his free arm.

"...What just happened?" asks April, hesitant. Raph wishes he knew how to explain.

"It was Leo!" Mikey does it for him. "He... he's reaching for us."

"What!? Like, mind meld or something!?"

"No," answers Raph. "I don't really know what that was... but it was definitely Leo."

"So..." April pauses, eyes searching each of their faces. "Is he... okay?"

None of them know what to say, but she gets it anyway.

"...I'm going to destroy the EPF," says Donnie, voice dark and cold. "I'm going to raze it to the ground. There will be nothing left."

Raph squeezes his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He doesn't know what to do other than agree.

-----

"This is a good thing," says Draxum. "That means he's still alive."

"But they're hurting him!" Mikey argues. He's halfway in Draxum's lap, arms wrapped around Draxum's middle. Donnie sits on one of the bench seats, curled tight around his own legs, while Splinter strokes his head. Raph sits on the bench seat across from them, April leaning against his side.

"I told you what the EPF is capable of," Draxum reminds them. "This is not a surprise."

"Read the room, Barry," says April.

Splinter's look is increasingly far away, his touch on Donnie's head automatic and absentminded. He's able to stay in the room with them when there's something to do, but now the fear and depression are threatening to take him away again. For the hundredth time since this nightmare began, Raph feels the hopelessness set in.

Draxum sucks, but he's right, echoes the voice in his head that sounds too much like Leo. The plan hasn't changed. Now get moving before you tire out.

"Drax is right that Leo's alive," Raph echoes. "So we need to get a move on. Donnie, how's the tank?"

Donnie uncurls, coaxed by the request to talk about his baby. "The spare's on, and I did some checks on the engine and interior systems. We're ready to go."

"Alright." Raph stands up, rolling his shoulders. "It's Raph's turn to drive. Everyone buckle up."

The mood in the tank shifts after that; they have a direction, and a plan. Leo is hurt, but he's still alive, and nothing has changed.

Donnie and April sit together in the front seats. Mikey passes around snacks and drinks from their cooler, then snuggles in between their dad and Draxum. Draxum says something negative about the snack food, which pulls Splinter out of his trance and starts up some heated bickering between them. Even more of the tension leaks out of the cab.

Raph puts the tank in drive and pulls back onto the quiet highway, driving west again. At their back, the sun starts to rise.

-----

It's late in the day when they reach Colorado Springs.

Donnie was able to pin the EPF base's location down to the mountains surrounding the town, but he couldn't find its exact location. Whatever equipment they have, it's completely scrambled the subcutaneous tracker Donnie put on Leo (and boy, was that a stir when Donnie revealed he'd put trackers on all of them). It had taken a combination of Donnie's hacking and April's investigative skills to get this far.

"It makes sense," says April as they pull the tank into a campsite outside the city limits. "There's, what, three bases here? Where better to hide a secret branch of the military than with the military?"

There's snow on the ground outside, even though it's early May. Even so, the temperature was pretty mild while the sun was up. "It's the proximity to the mountains," Donnie explains when Raph mentions it, but the rest of the explanation blurs together. He's too tired to keep up with Donnie's science facts, but infodumping calms his brother down, so he lets him do it and nods along.

They eat a proper meal that Mikey cooks for them on one of the campsite grills, then settle in to nap until the sun goes down. Raph isn't sleeping, and he can tell from all the shifting around that Mikey and Donnie aren't, either. They're too close to Leo now to rest.

But you gotta catch some Zs before you go storming into enemy territory, the Leo in his head reminds him.

Raph hates every second you're in there, he thinks. But it won't be long now. Big bro's comin'.

He wishes the Leo in his head would say that he believes that. But all Raph can remember are the words they said during the fight, and he never quite goes to sleep.

-----

They break into pairs for their search. Raph goes with April, Mikey with Splinter, and Donnie stays with Draxum at the tank. Donnie uses his tech to try and narrow down the location of the base, while the other two teams go in opposite directions and start scouting the area on foot.

It takes a long time for them to learn anything, and as the sun comes up again, Raph starts to worry that they're going to have to leave Leo trapped for another full day.

But then he and April finally get a lead. They send the info to Donnie, and it helps narrow down his search.

Just after dawn, they reconvene at the tank, gathered around satellite images and drone shots of a nondescript military compound several miles outside the city.

"There it is," says Donnie with finality. "That's where they're keeping Leo."

"Then what are waiting for?" asks Mikey.

Wait for dark, says the Leo in Raph's head.

And that advice makes sense. There will be fewer employees at night. The dark provides natural cover. It's sane. It's smart.

Raph ignores it entirely.

He's not leaving his little brother with those people for one second longer. Not after what he felt, sitting on the side of the road in Nebraska.

"We're not waiting for anything," he says. "Let's move out."

From the looks on their faces, they all agree.

------

The site looks as generic as possible. There's a high electric fence circling the whole thing, with a basic "No Trespassing - Government Property" sign. A simple guard stand sits at the drive-in gate. The buildings visible beyond are drab and featureless.

The government stopped publicly funding the EPF in the nineties, Draxum had told them. But the organization had never truly gone away; it was just funded through underground means now. Miscellaneous defense funding. Anonymous donations. Private benefactors.

Originally it had been founded to defend Earth against aliens. But when no alien threat appeared, they moved on to a new mission: defending the United States against yokai.

"Even though we were here first," Draxum had said testily. "Typical Americans."

Raph hadn't liked anything Draxum had to tell them about the EPF. That they weren't bound by any of the laws the rest of the military was. That the yokai they had managed to capture were never seen again. That Draxum had had a very brief run-in with them once, decades ago, and he doubted they had ever forgotten it.

Really, though, all he'd needed to know was that they had his brother.

It's the middle of the morning, so their stealth options are limited. Still, they aren't ninja for nothing; they use the forest and the snowy terrain to their advantage and sneak their way into the compound. Raph has to admit, he was a little worried about Draxum on the trip over, but the old goat does a pretty good job keeping up.

It takes them a bit of time to work out which building to enter. They rule out a mess hall, a medical ward, the barracks, and some kind of training center first. Then, toward the furthest reaches of the compound, they find a building that looks particularly suspicious, with a guard gate on the path leading to it and more armed guards on the roof.

"That has to be it," says Raph. No one disagrees.

They use a passing supply truck to slip past the guard gate, then sneak around the back and use a fire ladder to get to the roof. They dispatch the guards on top quickly and easily, then find a ventilation shaft leading inside. Mikey, Donnie, April, and Splinter fit easily enough, but Raph and Draxum are too big to wiggle through.

"Find out where we're going. Radio us as soon as you find something," Raph says. Then he gives Mikey, April, and Donnie's shoulders each a squeeze in turn. "And be careful."

"Take care of Red," their dad says to Draxum just before he follows the others inside.

"He's safe with me," Draxum promises.

"You're safe with Raph," Raph feels the need to say. Splinter chuckles before disappearing into the shaft after his siblings.

Waiting outside becomes nerve-wracking quickly. Raph starts to pace the length of the roof, back and forth, glancing at the unconscious guards from time to time to make sure they're still unconscious.

"You're going to wear a rut on the roof," Draxum admonishes him. Raph keeps going anyway.

-----

Finally, after what feels like ages but is only about ten minutes, his radio crackles. Raph freezes, pulling his wrist close, where Donnie's tech is hidden under his wraps.

"Hey." It's April's voice. She sounds out of breath, but not distressed. "Come to the back of the building. Should be a door."

"On our way," says Raph, waving at Draxum to follow before dropping off the roof.

The door is easy enough to find, the snow around it trampled down. He gives the metal a rap with his knuckles when he gets there, and the door swings open, April grinning, her bat perched against her shoulder. Behind her is another unconscious guard.

"Nice, April," says Raph, hustling inside. He kicks the last of the snow off his feet once he's on the cold linoleum floor, Draxum following suit. April lets the door swing shut again. "Where's everyone else?"

"We found some kinda security room. Leo's gear was in there." She pushes by and starts to lead them down the hall, voice low, eyes watching for anyone rounding the corner. "Donnie's poking through the camera footage. Didn't look like anyone much was in this hall, so I came to get you."

"And Leonardo?" asks Draxum.

April gives a shake of her head. "Haven't found him yet, but he's gotta be here. There's not much more of the building to search, so we're close."

Raph peeks in open doors and through windows as they walk, taking in the space. It looks like an ordinary office building inside; nothing nefarious, except for the fact that the people working here are kidnapping scum who have done something so terrible to his little brother it made him scream out in anguish and fury. But if he hadn't known that coming in, he wouldn't have expected anything. It all looks very...

Raph comes to a sudden stop. Through the sliver of window in a door, he sees the first occupied room since he's entered the building. Only one person is inside, wearing a white lab coat and tapping away at a computer.

But what's more interesting is the door on the other side of the room: solid metal with no window, and a sign that reads "Inmate Observation - Authorized Access Only".

Raph grabs April by the shoulder before she can get too far ahead, pointing at the window. "Do you know what's in there?"

She turns back and takes a peek. "...No. I don't think we went through there yet."

So they haven't ruled this part of the building out yet. And it's the only one so far with anyone inside.

Inmate Observation.

"Raph, wait, I think we should-" April starts, but Raph doesn't listen. Raph can't stop himself.

His little brother is in here. He knows he is. The one who was taken from them. The one who cried out to them in fear, begging to be saved.

He's not making Leo wait a moment longer.

Raph throws open the door and marches inside.

"...Okay," April says behind him. "I guess we're doing it this way.

-----

The scientist or whoever they are tries to radio for help. Raph picks the radio up and crushes it in his hand. They turn and run, and that takes care of that.

April calls the others on her radio. Raph doesn't listen to the conversation. His eyes are locked on the door.

Inmate Observation.

He reaches out and throws the door back with a bang.

He's ready for the gunshots before they come, and his ninpo is already active, forming a protective bubble around himself and shielding Draxum and April. He's expecting bullets, but instead it's darts; they embed themselves harmlessly in the arms of his projection. Raph waits until the volley stops, then drops the projection, and the darts fall harmlessly to the floor.

He steps into the room and clocks one of the guards on the head before they can reload, watching as they fall to the ground. April wallops the other one, then kicks their fallen gun under a desk. She brandishes her bat at the other occupants of the room: two more scientists in lab coats, and one steely faced man in a suit.

The scientists seem intimidated. The suited man does not.

"Ah," he says. "So you've finally made it here, Draxum."

"Bishop." Draxum sounds equally unimpressed. "I thought you died in the nineties."

"So does most of the world. It's convenient for my work."

"You guys know each other?" April asks, looking between them.

"We know of each other." Draxum sneers. "If my plans had gone as I intended, he would truly be dead by now."

Raph narrows his eyes at the man. "Are you the one who's been keeping my brother here?"

To his credit, Bishop still looks unphased, even though Raph is tall enough to hulk over him. "I am the director of this facility."

It's enough of a yes.

Raph rushes Bishop, slamming him into the wall behind his back. Raph keeps him pinned, one hand on his neck, the other arm pressed against his chest, and Raph presses until he feels something start to crack.

Bishop hisses but does not cry out.

"Where are you keeping him?" Raph demands.

"He's in there," says Bishop, wheezing only slightly from the constriction on his lungs, his voice firm otherwise.

Raph tosses a look where Bishop indicates, seeing a large window. It's looking into a seemingly empty room; white walls and no furniture other than a toilet in the corner.

"Raph don't see him," he growls.

"He hides under the window." Bishop's eyes flicker to one of the scientists. "Pointless, really," he says, giving the man in the lab coat a nod. "Show them."

The scientist looks uneasy, but he turns and clicks a few buttons on a desktop. A screen pops up, but it doesn't show anything other than static.

"...Something is wrong with our camera signals, sir," the scientist reports.

"Ah." Bishop's eyes glint, and then flick back to Raph's face. "So there are more of you."

Raph doesn't answer that. He gives Bishop a rough shake. "What have you done to him?"

"Your brother?" Bishop clarifies. "Nothing."

Another shake. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Bishop's eyes are steely, even as his wheezing picks up the more Raph leans into his chest. "Other than as was necessary to move him, we have not touched him."

Raph doesn't move an inch. "I don't believe that."

"Then see for yourself." Bishop looks at the other scientist now, giving a small nod of his head. "Dr. Keller, open the door for this brute so he'll stop assaulting me."

Raph scowls, staying exactly where he is while the other scientist scurries to the metal door by the window and inputs a code into a keypad. There's a beep, and a clipped, artificial voice says, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Finally, Raph lets Bishop go, and approaches the door.

-----

When Raph imagined one of them getting kidnapped by a shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, he always pictured something... different.

He thought they would be in cages, not tall enough to stand in. That they would be fed from dog bowls or water drippers. That handlers would patrol the room with cattle prods, ready to shock anyone who stepped out of line.

But there is no cage, and no cattle prods. Leo is just in a room.

The first thing Raph notices about the room is the cold. The rest of the building is hardly stifling, but even then, the blast of air that comes through the open door feels like Raph is stepping into a freezer.

As he saw from outside, there's no furniture. Or he doesn't think there is, until he looks down, under the window, and finds a cot.

And what's on the cot makes his heart stop.

Raph can barely remember the last time he saw Leo pull himself fully into his shell for anything other than shell bowling. He complained that it was too small, that the hot and cramped space made him feel claustrophobic.

Now he's completely pulled inside, still and silent in a way Leo should never be.

For an eternity, Raph thinks he's too late. They came all the way here only to save Leo's corpse.

"Leo...?"

He kneels by the cot, reaching out and putting a hand on Leo's shell. He's cold to the touch, and it unsettles Raph even further. He shouldn't be this cold.

Raph keeps his hand where it is and stays very still and very quiet. And he waits.

And then he hears it, so faint he almost misses it: a terrified, whimpering chirp.

Leo is alive.

Raph feels tears spring to his eyes. He puts his other hand on Leo's shell, rubbing in big, soothing motions.

"Leo! Leo, it's me! We're here, we're getting you out! It's all going to be okay, just trust Big Raphie, alright?"

So saying, Raph straightens back up, and grabs Leo's shell in his hands to carry him out, to take his little brother home.

A hand shoots out of the shell, stick thin. Though it's clearly weak, it grabs on to Raph's arm with a desperate ferocity, clawing at the skin there.

Raph freezes, not putting Leo down but not lifting him any further, either. He peers into the gap in Leo's shell, and sees eyes peering back at him, glassy and wide and full of terror. A cornered animal fighting for his life.

Raph takes a deep breath. He summons all the love he has for Leo, all the relief he feels at finding him alive, all the happiness he has from having his little brother in his arms again, and he pours it into a genuine smile, no matter the danger outside.

"Hey, Leo," he says, voice soft. "It's just me. Raph came to get ya. Everything's okay now."

A second passes, then five, then twenty. April starts to come in, but Raph waves a finger at her to tell her to go back before she startles Leo. He keeps the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hold secure but non-threatening.

And then, slowly, Leo pokes his head out.

"Raph?" he asks, in a voice that is exhausted and hoarse and warbling and absolutely beautiful.

"Yeah," says Raph, blinking tears back. "Hey, buddy."

Steadily, Leo unfurls the rest of himself, one limb emerging at a time. He looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and gaunt, his skin is an unhealthy color, his eyes are ringed by dark black circles showing off how little he's slept.

Raph is so happy to see him. He so wishes this wasn't the state he was finding Leo in. If he could turn back time and make it so Leo never suffered, he would in a heartbeat. But he's so happy to have Leo back that the tears keep flowing.

The grip Leo has on his arm shifts. No longer trying to claw himself free, but grabbing on, holding still, with all the same desperation as before. His eyes search Raph's face, over and over until it seems he's finally satisfied.

"Raph," he repeats, and it's not a question this time.

"Yeah," Raph says anyway. "I'm here."

He lifts Leo the rest of the way, cradling Leo against his chest. Leo's so much lighter than he should be, and Raph feels a sharp pain in his heart over it.

It's okay. They'll leave. They'll take care of him. And then Leo will be all better again.

Leo shifts himself, reaching one arm up and hooking it around Raph's neck. Just that much movement seems to sap a lot of energy, and he slumps his head against Raph, giving up on holding it upright. It reminds Raph of when they were little and he would carry Leo to bed, before Leo started insisting he's too old for that.

"Am I dreaming?" Leo whispers.

Raph's heart breaks, but he doesn't lose his smile. "Nope. You're wide awake."

"Then..." Leo nuzzles closer. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah." Raph sniffles, shifting his grip so he can get a hand free without disturbing Leo. "We can go home."

Leo doesn't say anything more, just hums quietly against Raph's neck. Raph wipes his tears away, then turns and carries Leo out of the room.

-----

Bishop is still against the wall; it's Draxum's vines holding him there now.

When Leo sees him, he shrinks into himself, crossing the arm not hooked around Raph over his chest. Raph turns his body so Leo is shielded from view, glaring hard at Bishop as he does.

"Didn't do anything to him, huh?" he asks, voice icy.

"He is unharmed," says Bishop, equally cold. Raph wants to kill him.

"That's enough out of you," says Draxum, and a new vine wraps around Bishop's mouth. That shuts him up.

April's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth as she looks at Leo, but she quickly pulls herself together, her expression turning to one of hard steel. She comes closer, only softening when Leo's eyes lock on her.

"Hey, Leo," she says, reaching up and giving his arm a pat. "How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," Leo rasps, and it's so sincere that Raph feels tears spring to his eyes again. April has to blink hard behind her glasses.

"We're really happy to see you, too."

"Yes, everyone is happy now," says Draxum, though his eyes are worried as they look Leo over. "But we still need to get out of here."

"Right." April opens the door back into the offices, letting Raph through, before she pulls up her wrist to talk into her Donnie tech. "Guys, you there?"

"We're here, April," comes Donnie's voice. "We've extracted the information and we're on our way to meet you."

"Great." She smiles up at Raph. "We got Leo."

"Leo!" Mikey's voice comes booming through the radio, loud enough that April cringes and leans back. Raph can hear Donnie make a noise of protest in the background. "Is he okay!? Can I talk to him!? Did he miss me!?"

April raises her wrist so the tech is in front of Leo's mouth. He tilts his head towards it, saying, "Course I missed you."

"LEO!" screams Mikey even louder, and Raph thinks he hears the shout from somewhere in the building, too.

"-key, give me back my arm-" comes Donnie's voice, then there's an exaggerated throat clearing before he's saying, "We'll be there in one minute. Be ready to move."

"We're ready," Raph assures him. They move to the door and watch for the others to appear.

-----

Days of stress seem to fall off his brothers and Splinter when they see Leo.

Raph wishes they could have all the hugs and reassurances he knows they all need, but there's just no time; they're still in enemy territory, and the man who hurt his brother the most is just behind two doors, only being held by Draxum's vines. There's time only for brief shoulder touches and for Splinter to jump up on Raph's shoulder and give Leo's forehead a quick, relieved kiss.

Raph gives the rest of his family a quick glance over. Mikey is carrying Leo's gear, the katana sheathed across his shell and the rest of it slung over his shoulder. They haven't gotten any injuries, as far as he can tell. Everyone looks good to go.

"How do we get out of here?" asks Raph. Donnie pulls up his wrist tech.

"It may be inevitable that we'll face resistance on our way out... But the closest door is this way." He points down the hall, back the way Raph, Draxum, and April came from.

There's a weak thump against Raph's shoulder. "Gunners on the roof," Leo rasps once he has Raph's attention.

Raph wonders how he knows that, but there's no time to ask.

"We took care of 'em," he says instead. "You just relax, okay? We're getting out of here."

Leo lets his head fall against Raph's shoulder again, and Raph takes that as the okay to move.

It takes less time to get out than it did to get in. No need for stealth now that the director knows they're here, after all.

They run down the hallways, through doors, past the still unconscious guard April took care of earlier. Draxum takes the lead through the door, and they all crash as a group outside.

Where a ring of soldiers are waiting for them, guns trained their direction. And Raph isn't sure they're loaded with darts this time.

Leo shudders in his arms, and Raph curls protectively around him, already summoning his ninpo to shield them. His family forms their own protective barrier around the two of them, readying their weapons and squaring off against the soldiers.

Behind them, the door opens.

"This doesn't have to end in anyone getting hurt," says Bishop as he walks out.

Raph doesn't turn towards him, keeping the shivering Leo out of his sight. "What, like you didn't hurt my brother?"

"I've already told you, I didn't touch him." Bishop sounds only mildly put out. "He can attest to that himself."

"It's cute that you think any of us care what you have to say," snaps April, rounding on him and pointing her bat his direction.

"You should care what I have to say." Bishop nods at Raph. "Your comrade needs medical attention. Care that I can provide, if you lower your weapons and surrender."

"Care he only needs 'cause you jerks kidnapped him!" yells Mikey.

"Mikey," whispers Leo. Raph glances down at him, but Leo isn't looking his way.

"I gave Inmate 24365 plenty of chances to cooperate in exchange for more comfortable living conditions. That he declined was his choice. But I have no wish to see him dead. We were going to transfer him to the medical unit just as you arrived and interrupted us; surrender, and we'll take him there now."

"No," snaps Splinter, stepping toward Bishop. "You will come nowhere near my sons ever again."

"Mikey," Leo hisses with more urgency.

"These turtles are your sons? Really?" Bishop sounds disbelieving. Raph still doesn't turn his direction. "What am I supposed to believe next? That humans can give birth to birds?"

"They are my sons!" Splinter asserts. "Come near them again, and you are dead!"

"Perhaps we should kill him now, Lou Jitsu, and be done with it," Draxum suggests.

"Mikey," says Leo, kicking one emaciated foot. Mikey finally looks their way, confused. "Gimme... swords."

He doesn't have to explain. But Raph feels uneasy. He exchanges a glance with Donnie, who seems similarly concerned. "Nardo, I don't think-"

"Hey," says Leo, and even though his vocal chords sound tired and out of use, they can all hear him, their confident face-man of a brother, with a big ego and a cocky tone, shining through. "Trust me, I got this."

Mikey gives him the katana.

"The American government have allowed the yokai to live peacefully within our borders up until now," says Bishop. "If you kill me, that peace will be ruined."

"This war was started when you kidnapped my child!" cries Splinter, snapping his tail.

"You threaten the Hidden Cities as though you know anything about them," says Draxum. "They do not fear you."

"We know more about them than you think."

"You expect me to listen to this blathering?"

"Is it a chance you're willing to take, Draxum?"

Draxum falls silent. The lack of answer makes Raph feel even more on edge. But Leo is holding his katana now.

"You'll threaten the yokai no matter what we do today," says Splinter, voice dark. "No. We will not hand Leonardo over to you. You will not lay a single finger on him."

"So you're saying you won't surrender." Bishop pauses. Leo takes a deep breath. "You agree, Draxum?"

"...Leonardo is my creation. My son." Draxum sounds resolute. "No. I will not surrender."

Bishop scoffs. "Your son... this animal."

It's only the fact that he's holding Leo, fragile and shaking in his arms, that keeps Raph from turning around and killing Bishop right then.

But he doesn't, and Bishop raises his voice.

"Baron Draxum is a known yokai terrorist, who has threatened mass murder on the civilian human population of the United States and the rest of the earth. These five yokai are co-conspirators, and this woman with them a sympathizer and accomplice. They are attacking this base with the intent to harm those inside, and so anything we do now is self defense."

There's a smile in his tone as he says it.

"Fire at will."

Around them, triggers are pulled, and gunshots sound off.

But the flash of blue under their feet is faster.

For the first time since coming outside, Raph chances a look over his shoulder at Bishop, just as he's falling through the portal. Bullets whiz overhead, and one hits home.

The last thing Raph sees as he disappears into the blue light is blood blooming across Bishop's suit.

-----

They fall out of the portal somewhere outside the fence. Raph's not sure exactly where. He's not even sure Leo was aiming, beyond getting them away.

He lets out a relieved laugh, looking around at everyone, in one piece and notably not shot. They still have to get back to the tank, but they made it. They're safe.

"Leo! You did it!" He whoops, looking down at his little brother. "I can't believe you really- ...Leo?"

That's when he realizes that Leo isn't moving.

He's slumped over in Raph's hold, no longer holding himself up. His katana slip out of his lax grip and fall into the snow with a soft whump.

"L-leo!? LEO!"

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |