#at what point is always and forever overused?

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy (2)

PART 2 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I was wondering doing a bonus part about Fernando POV throughout everything (to show he was ALSO miserable), but I don't know if i have the time and energy for it. Let me know if you guys would be interested in it and I'll do it in headcanons/topics.

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was taking way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

PART 1 | FERNANDO'S HEADCANONS

You were moping and crying in the living room when the phone started ringing. Looking at the little screen that showed the number that was calling, you knew it was Fernando. You had memorized his number at some point in your lifetime. Your parents weren’t home, so you hesitated. You took so long that his call went to voicemail.

“I know you’re there,” he said, voice sounding tired, low and inpatient, “please pick up the-”

You pulled the phone cable, unplugging the call and silencing him. Wiping your tears, you stared at the unplugged phone on the little side table for what felt like hours, until your parents returned from work, when you got up to plug the phone back and pretend like you didn’t spend the whole day mourning a friendship you always thought would last forever.

After two days ignoring all calls, even Flavio’s, you decided that you’d shield yourself from now on, and you wouldn’t give Fernando any more ammo to hurt you. You met with Flavio at the next race, face heavy with makeup to cover up the sleepless nights you had gone through. You put your bag down and stared at Flavio across the table.

“Good morning. Let’s go back to work,” you said, gently pulling the stack of papers from his grasp. He called your name in that tone, of someone wanting a heart to heart.

“We should talk about the f-” He started but you cut him off.

“No, I don’t want to talk about that,” you said.

“I talked to Fernando and he-”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. He’s dead to me.” You repeated slowly, finally looking up at him. Flavio must’ve seen something in your eyes because he let the topic go.

You didn’t see Fernando for two more days, and when the weekend officially started, you avoided him like the plague. Even when you two were in the same place with other drivers, you’d ignore his existence for the most part. Whenever you were in a little circle chatting with other drivers and he arrived, you’d leave immediately. Press conference, you convinced Jenson to switch places with you so you could be as far from Fernando as possible. Even with team debriefs, with Flavio trying to make you talk to Fernando, you refused.

The rest of the season was insane, during team meetings and debriefs you were cold and barely talked to him. He didn’t try to talk to you either, and the silent distance only grew.

You were head to head in a race, you were P2 and Fernando P3 right behind you.

“Switch with Fernando,” your engineer said on the radio.

“He won’t fucking pass me,” you said into the radio, holding your position and pace. He was less than a second behind, and you refused to let him pass.

“I repeat, let him pass,” That was Flavio.

“If he manages to overtake me, he can go.”

He didn’t. You knew you had more pace, but still he insisted, and through the mirrors, you could see him closing in behind you. He tried to overtake but you pushed the car fast, and when he couldn’t anymore, he turned into you, touching his front right tyre to your rear left tyre. You were too fast. The mere touch of his tyre bursted yours. You couldn’t even get angry as you lost control of the car in a millisecond, the speed making your car fly into the air as it hit the gravel. With your car overturning a few times in the air, you watched your sight going ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.

Then you blacked out.

When you woke up, you were on a stretcher being placed carefully inside the ambulance, you tried to get up, dizzy and someone handed you a bag where you threw up inside.

You had an insane headache as they took you to the medical center. Apparently, everything else was alright as you checked your own body for any injuries or problems. The doctor checked you but still made you through a round of tests and injected saline solution diluted with pain medicine in an IV drip. They also decided you’d stay overnight to make sure nothing was wrong. 

Your dad, who was watching from the garage, was the first to find you in the medical center, visibly worried and crying. He hugged you for a whole minute, before taking a step back and touching your face to make sure you were really alright.

“I’m ok, Papá. Just passed out when the car was spinning in the air,” You smiled softly, wanting to dissipate his worry.

“When you didn’t answer the radio-” He choked back tears.

“It’s ok, I’m ok now.”

“What are you feeling, darling?” He pressed, holding your hands to look for injuries in your arms.

“I’m all in one piece, Papá. Just a little sore, but that’s normal whenever a racing driver crashes,” you let him know, and he nodded.

“Let me just call your mother. She was so worried she wanted to get into the first flight here,” He told you.

“Tell her I’m alright and I love her,” you whispered and he nodded, going outside.

You sighed as you were left alone, trying to find a comfortable position where you didn’t have to move too much, since your whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The door opened and you thought it was Flavio, but you were faced with Fernando, still sweaty and in his overalls. He looked disheveled, but he was full of worry, even his eyes looked a little misty as he stood there a few meters from you.

But you couldn’t look past the anger when the memory of him diving into your car came back. He had gambled with your life, out of pettiness, out of envy, he couldn’t pass you, so he decided the next best thing was to take you out, not even caring about the danger he was putting you through.

“Leave.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Please,” he begged with his voice softer than you had heard for almost a year, “let me just-”

“Leave! You could’ve gotten me killed, Fernando. Get out!” You said, louder. “Do you have any idea that you could have ruined my life in a moment of anger?! That you could have gotten me seriously injured or worse?! I would have never done that to you!” You pressed your index finger to the nurse button repeatedly, and a few seconds later, a nurse came in, “Ma’am can you escort him out please?”

You could see in his eyes that he was hurt by your words, but in that moment, all you felt was blind rage, for what he did the last time you spoke and because he crashed into you on purpose. You didn’t want to hear any excuses now that he realized he put your life in danger just because his ego couldn’t take a hit.

The next day, after you were discharged, you traveled for a meeting with Flavio at Renault’s headquarters. He met you alone in the meeting room, talking to you about the accident, and after making sure you were physically fine, he went off.

“What you did yesterday was reckless and you went against express orders from the team and from me. This is not happening again, or you will be risking your seat at Renault,” He said, his voice never leaving room for debate, you swallowed and nodded, “When the team orders you to do something, you do. No questioning, and no going against it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fernando was really worried about you yes-”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” You cut Flavio off.

“You two are best friends, it’s really sad to see you lose all that because of Formula 1” Flavio said, gently.

“He put my life at risk, Flavio. This is not something a friend would do,” you stood up, walking away but you stopped by the door, “Kinda curious how motorsports, the very thing that brought us together, is the same that tore us apart.”

Then you went to meet the engineers for the next race strategies. 

That night as you laid down at home, you thought that you’d never compete with Fernando solely because he was Flavio’s favorite. If it ever came to Flavio to decide whether you would win or Fernando would win, he’d always pick Fernando. You could’ve been fighting for the championship this year, he had promised you, instead you were being used as a step in Fernando’s path of glory, when you could be fairly racing him for the championship. You’d always come second to him there. That was also the moment you stopped seeing Flavio as a friend, and confined him back to a position of Team Principal.

You reread the Sauber proposal that came to you that year to start racing for them the next season, tempted to just go and make your name somewhere else. Somewhere where you’d be put first.

But deep down, a sense of indebtedness had rooted into your heart ever since the day Fernando told you the truth. You had to pay Flavio back for his trust and for his money, and the only way you thought you could do it was by becoming world champion under his team.

There was still a little kid inside you, a little kid who aspired to prove Fernando wrong, to become a champion and prove to yourself you’re more than him. More than who he wanted you to be, more than a loser.

You turned down the offer from Sauber.

The rest of the season you went almost robotically. You still gave your all every race, but your mood would always damper when you had to follow team orders.

“Ask if me and Fernando can switch, I’m faster!” You said on the radio. You kept driving, Fernando a little less than two seconds in front of you, but you were getting closer and would catch up to him in two laps.

“Negative, protect his position.”

“There’s a McLaren right behind me! They’ll pass us both!”

“Negative, team orders.”

You swallowed and held your position, trying to maintain your P2 and Fernando P1. But when the McLaren got close to you, they managed to pass you after a brief battle, going for Fernando a couple of laps later.

Later, you stood on the podium, looking ahead knowing that P3 could’ve been a P1 if they had let you fight for it. You didn’t look at Fernando on the other side of the podium, you just stood there, eyes watery. You pretended to take part throwing champagne for a few seconds, forcing a smile knowing that it would look bad not to.

The post race interviews were torture, and you wanted to go home and vent to your parents.

“How has it been to manage your friendship with Fernando outside the track?” A reporter asked, and your smile disappeared from your face.

“We were never really friends,” you shrugged, annoyed, you added “Are there any questions about racing instead of my personal life?” The reporter was silent, visibly taken aback by your responses, you had rarely been hostile toward a journalist before, you knew he would have a field day with just those replies, especially when your PR manager gave you a hard stare, “No? Thank you, see you around.”

You finished P2 in the race Fernando became champion for the second time. When you got out of the car, you watched as Flavio and Fernando hugged, jumping from the ground and celebrating. The number one and your team principal. After the podium ceremony, you didn’t bother to stay to spray champagne, just leaving and going straight out.

You got a couple more proposals from other teams, and you were tempted, until Flavio told you Fernando was leaving for McLaren the next year and offered you an extension. You took it under the condition to become the number one driver now that Fernando was out of the picture.

A part of you mourned the death of the dream, the one you had at fourteen to become teammates with your best friend. So many things had happened in between everything, now you would miss it. Only the good, not the bad and ugly. You wish you could go back in time, redo everything, and never allow yourself to lose your best friend on the way.

The next year you ended up striking an unexpected friendship with Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and eventually the two rookies Lewis and Sebastian, who had been very vocal about being fans of yours.

You didn’t go back to talking with Fernando. You didn’t try and he didn’t either. It felt like the bridges were too far burned to recover.

One day as you walked out of the garage, you saw Fernando with a girl on the opposite side. She was clinging to his side, whispering. You knew he had his fair share of fun with grid girls but he never invited them to watch the race from his garage. You wondered if he was dating again, after a couple of years being nothing more than a player. You also wonder why it made a pang of pain flare through your chest.

You don’t linger too much. He had no reason to tell you. You weren’t even friends anymore.

You moved on, as much as you could. And eventually, you met Kaka, or Ricardo, as you preferred calling him. He was a footballer, a big name in the sport, playing for a big team in Italy. You actually met him at a gala party, the both of you being silly introverts, bumping into each other when trying to find a way out. You two ended up talking for hours on the balcony, watching the city lights.

He reminded you of Nano before Formula 1.

And you actually wanted to smash your own head against the handrail as you thought that.

After exchanging numbers and calling a couple of times, you managed to convince Ricardo to come to a Grand Prix. His presence was calm, funny without being mean, and so gentle. It was actually the calm between the storm your life and job was.

You were pacing around outside the motorhomes to try and see if he had arrived yet, since the last you had talked to him was when he was on his way. While waiting, your eyes found Fernando’s on the opposite side in front of McLaren, he was sitting down with his girlfriend telling him something. You stared at him for a whole minute, and for a brief moment, the anger left his eyes for something softer, something like-

“Hi, minha linda!” Ricardo showed up out of nowhere, and he hugged you so tight he actually swiped you off your feet.

Once the surprise passed, you hugged him back, your fingers finding their way through his hair. And he laughed, spinning you before putting you down. You talked for a bit, your face lit up as he told you about his day.

Your eyes unconsciously turned to Fernando, because you could feel that he had been staring at you for as long as Ricardo was there. His face was back to anger.

“You want me to give you the grand tour?” You offered, just so you could escape the weight of Fernando’s glare.

You took Ricardo by the hand and showed him all around, even introducing him to part of your team. After that race when you placed third, Ricardo invited you to a date, the first official one. After a couple of months and a few kisses, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You only hesitated for a second before smiling and squealing a yes.

Being the main driver of your team allowed you to live an entirely different season as a racer. You didn’t want to be arrogant, but you had it in the bag. You had the best car, the best engines, and just the perfect amount of boldness. Add insane strategies, and you were unstoppable.

Despite Fernando being your close rival on track, he was way too busy beefing with Lewis, his surprisingly great rookie teammate.

During summer break that year, you were on a trip to Brazil with Ricardo, but still, the night of July 29th, you got up at two a.m., slowly went to the fridge, where you got an ice cream pint. With a spoon, you sat on the handrail in the balcony, and watched the waves breaking on the beach a few meters away.

It was weird keeping the ice cream tradition alone, but you supposed it was even weirder not keeping the tradition. Staring at the stars, you wondered if Fernando had any ice cream to celebrate his birthday that day.

“Hi,” you heard Ricardo behind you, his hands sneaking around your middle and he hugged you from behind, laying his head against your shoulder, “everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted a little treat,” you mumbled, closing the lid on the ice cream, because a selfish part of you didn’t want to share the tradition with anyone other than Fernando. It was silly and stupid, and still… you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the ice cream back in the freezer and smiled at Ricardo as he pulled you into his arms and carried you back to bed.

You came back from summer break with a renewed sense of focus. Deep down you knew that was your season. Your season to become world champion, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. As you won the first two races after summer, you became first in the standings, this sense of purpose being the one thing motivating you every weekend to give your best.

It was Interlagos that year when you needed only a podium to become World Champion, pretty much the same as Fernando two years before. The race was tough, and it felt like Fernando was out to get you, especially in a moment right in the middle of the race, when you were behind him in P3 and he tried to brake test you again, but this time you were quick to react, avoiding his rear and using his own dirty trick against him, turning sharply to overtake him from outer side, moving past him fast enough to gain some precious couple of seconds.

After that, you managed to smoothly overtake the P1 with a carefully planned pit stop that allowed you to come out first. Later on, you saw a crash, nothing too bad, but you found out it was Fernando and Webber.

“Are they ok?” You asked via radio to your engineer.

“Yes, they are already back on the pitlane.”

You sighed and focused back to your race, keeping your P1 safe, and going smoothly to take the checkered flag.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You’re a Formula One World Champion!”

You felt the tears coming down and dampening your balaclava, as you took one last lap to parc ferme, waving at the crowd that went insane.

It was like a huge weight was lifted from your chest. Because you were now world champion. You were there, and you deserved to be there, among the best. You didn’t need to prove yourself anymore, and you had finally paid Flavio back.

You jumped out of the car straight into your team, jumping with them, and Flavio ran up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Jenson also found you and hugged you firmly, patting your back and Nico also hugged you, both of them were on the podium with you.

As you looked down from the podium, with a watery, emotional smile, you saw your dad crying like a baby and clapping his hands. Unconsciously, your eyes looked for Fernando, silly hoping it mattered something to him, that at least in the name of your former friendship, he would be there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and you felt like that was another nail in the coffin of your friendship.

Deciding to forget it, you drank champagne straight from the bottle, laughing as both Nico and Jenson paired up to drown you in champagne, looking happy for you.

After talking to your mom on the phone, you stood up, taking your bag and going out to look for your dad. You didn’t make it very far, as you came out in the hallway, you found Fernando, leaning against the wall. You paused, looking up to him while your heartbeat went up.

“I’m happy for you,” he whispered. And you wanted to believe it really badly, but thinking about him brake testing you during the race, trying to take you out, made you roll your eyes at him.

“Sure, you are,” you said sarcastically. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed you didn’t believe him, “my debt is over now.”

“What?” He frowned, confused.

“I just paid Flavio for his investment,” you explained, “I’m not just here because you asked him to support me, I’m a damn great driver. I’m here because I deserve it, not because you took me out of pity.”

Fernando stared at you completely shocked at your words, something painful stabbing at his chest. He never thought you’d think like that over disgusting words he said in a moment of anger. Words that never meant anything to him, that he didn’t even believe in himself. The hurt in your eyes was the same from the day he said the words, when you cried looking into his eyes and telling him he was dead to you.

You walked past him and away. He wanted to shout that he never meant those words, that you were so much more, so much better. But you just left. Fernando followed you outside, trying to catch you and explain himself, maybe fix things between you, making peace.

But as he got outside, he paused, seeing you jumping in your boyfriend’s arms, laughing at something he whispered to you. Fernando swallowed, closing his fist and jealousy burned through his limbs, with such force that it felt like a fever.

Right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, Ferrari got in touch with you, offering a two year contract to become teammates with Kimi Raikkonen and drive for what was one of, if not the most classic team in Formula 1. After negotiations, it was a no brainer. You didn’t owe Renault anything any more. And that’s what propelled you to meet with Flavio that winter break in a cafeteria in Monaco. When you had called, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, which was convenient.

After pleasantries and small talk, you were ready to start, but Flavio cut you off without noticing.

“I have to tell you something,” he started, carefully, “Fernando is coming back to Renault next year.”

You froze for a second, not wanting to think too much about the implications of that. The fact that Flavio was willing to force you and Fernando to be teammates again even after the catastrophic ending you had before. Sighing, you covered your face for a second.

“I know you have reservations, but I’ve talked with Fernando and he’s willing to-”

“I’m going to Ferrari.”

And Flavio understood, after talking for a while. He knew Ferrari was most drivers' ultimate dream, and you weren’t immune to that either. Unfortunately for you, Fernando released the news he was going back to Renault a week before Ferrari announced you, and the media had a field day with that, tabloids and media outlets doing numbers of articles about you avoiding being teammates with Fernando again, since he was coming back and you were conveniently leaving almost at the same time.

Your races with Fernando kept being dangerous, one always trying to one up the other, dangerous moves and overtakes, close calls of crashing into each other, and more and more jabs publicly. The attacks at each other never stopped, and the media seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it ever so often.

One occasion, you were going for a win, and the only thing between you and that damn P1 was Fernando Alonso. So you kept your P2, biding your time as you tried to close the gap, leaving your chance at overtaking for the last few laps. When a fast turn came, you advanced, overtaking him, Fernando tried to defend his position, but you were getting the lead, and both of you were in high speed. Someone had to back out, otherwise you two would crash. But you were feeding off of anger and hurt, and you didn’t back down well into the turn, but suddenly, Fernando slowed down, giving up defending. You took the P1 and after a few laps, the checkered flag. You knew on the podium that Fernando was seething, his face didn’t hide that. Later, at an interview, someone brought up the dirty move.

“So, a very dangerous move at turn 2 during lap 47, no?” The reporter asked, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I thought it was a pretty common battle, no?” You said, a condescending tone imitating him.

“Well, it could’ve caused you both to crash.”

“I took a risk, either I would pass and win, or we would both crash and DNF. Alonso was wise and went for the safest option.” I gave the reporter a fake smile.

You knew that answer would piss Fernando off, and a part of you knew he deserved it. Sometimes you acted on pure rage and pettiness, feral and way more aggressive against Fernando on track than you really needed to be. But he just pissed you off. Walking around with his model girlfriend, his attacks at your racing abilities, his pretty eyes that always seemed to find yours at the most inconvenient times.

Then, the race weekend would end, and everything that was left was shame. Your burning shame every time your mom’s eyes shone when she asked about Fernando, hoping you two would have made peace. You, looking away from her face every time you told her you knew nothing about Alonso because you didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Later that year, after your two year anniversary with Ricardo, you accidentally found a ring box in his suitcase. A proposal ring, a beautiful big diamond ring, probably worth a small fortune. And you tried to feel happy about it, but you could only find dread in your heart. Despite loving Ricardo, you knew you didn’t love him as much as you could. And certainly not as much as she loved you. You didn’t love him as much as you loved-

Closing your eyes, you also closed your heart, and after that just like the coward you were, you broke up with Ricardo the kindest way you could. He was confused, because your relationship was tranquil, without many problems. It broke your heart to break his heart, but you couldn’t lead him on, you knew Ricardo was husband material, and the earlier you let him go, the earlier he would find his true happiness.

Ultimately, you decided to only pursue love after your Formula One career. Having a bit of fun here and there, and a couple of casual relationships even with other drivers, but nothing serious or public. When you found out Fernando was single again, a flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but when you saw him go back to his playboy ways… It died down.

Sometimes you would dream of a different life, of one you never lost your best friend… or even better, one that you never had to suppress the love you felt for him. And sometimes it felt too much, like all this love was just filling up your hollow heart, filling up until it overflowed, until you felt like you were drowning in it, because there was nowhere for this love to go. And you wondered, what do I do with this love, there's no one to give it to, there's no recipient to put it. So you would just ground your teeth and bear it, holding onto anger because that much love, that much longing did nothing but cause you pain.

Every time someone mentioned him outside race weeks, you felt ashamed.

Despite being in a top team like Ferrari, you’d only get a few wins, and some podiums here and there, so it wasn’t like you didn’t achieve anything. But you were a woman so it was obviously not enough, and the media started questioning your career and your place in Formula One.

After two years of you driving for Ferrari, Domenicalli, your team principal, sat you down to let you know Fernando Alonso would be joining the team the next year, and you bit the inside of your cheek, considering just retiring. The criticism was getting to you, and the perspective of living hell with Fernando as your teammate was a broken heart all over again.

When an opportunity arose to drive for Red Bull Racing, with a two year contract, you didn’t think twice before accepting. It would be your chance to turn the tide in your career.

It sent the motorsport world into a frenzy when your new team announced you and a week later Ferrari announced Fernando as their future driver. The same narrative of you running away from him was passed ahead. And of course, it got to the paddock. Most drivers that were close to you actually congratulated you, but of course, nothing was ever good for Fernando. And despite not fully talking to him, he was always willing to throw a mean comment at you any given day.

“And people said you’re washed” Fernando said right after the news broke, the second to last race of that season, his voice dripping with venom. You knew it was a backhanded compliment, he always did that when he wanted to get a rise out of you. He smirked, waiting for your feral clapback, as you always had one on the tip of your tongue.

But when he looked back at you, your face was stony, and you were looking ahead with your chin raised. You didn’t even look at Fernando, nor answered his taunting. You pretended he wasn’t there but he noticed your eyes were misty.

That had been a low blow, even for him. He didn’t know shit about your feelings regarding your career, but he knew exactly how the world had been treating it, and it made you burn with shame that he could add insult to injury this easily. You wondered why he would say something like that if, just like you, it had been years since the last time he was champion of the world. Two years pushing yourself to the maximum so you could achieve your second championship.

Fernando had been your best friend for so long, he knew exactly what buttons to push when he wanted to hurt you.

When someone else arrived, greeting you, you cleared your throat briefly before answering and plastering a smile that never reached your eyes.

“Are you running away from me?” Fernando cornered you later that same day.

“What?” You paused.

“I went back to Renault and you left, now I’m going to Ferrari and you’re leaving,” he shrugged. You scoffed.

“I’m not sure if you know, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Fernando.”

“Well, that’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

Fernando paused for a second, his eyes searching yours, he looked vulnerable, open like he hadn’t been in so long. He looked every bit your best friend from years before.

“I miss you, I-” He started, then cleared his throat.

“I miss the old you,” You swallowed a whole bunch of your pride just to be able to say those words.

“Things are different now…” Fernando started, his eyes full of hoping, of longing, “We could- maybe we could-”

“Fernando, we’re too far gone, what we said- what we did…” You muttered, feeling a lump in your throat, “how do one come back from that?”

“We could restart. Try again-”

“You lost me forever that day, Fernando.” You muttered, the tears holding on to your eyelashes. You didn’t need to specify the day, he knew, he had seen in your eyes the moment he lost you, “I spent so long hearing your voice in my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I shouldn’t be here, and I- I hated you that day. And I had to hold onto this hate, because the alternative was overwhelming sadness.”

There was a numbing silence for a couple of minutes, as you stared down at your own feet, trying to stop all the feelings you spent years carefully locking away from breaking free. So much had happened, you believed you and Fernando were too far to recover now.

“I’m a woman here, the first and only woman in so long, and the whole world was against me. You have no idea how it felt that my best friend, the person I trusted the most, was also against me,” You shook your head, feeling the tears drop.

“I’m sorry, Nena… I’ve never- I’ve never meant any of that.” He muttered, and you didn’t look at him to see if he was being genuine. You had formed walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartbreak, and you now had a hard time believing him.

“There are some things… that are not meant to be.” You didn’t look back at Fernando after you said that, choosing to walk away with this broken heart feeling ever present.

It was hard to keep going everyday. You had always faced backlash for being a woman in Formula 1, and you were used to it. But the media took a turn over the next few years. When you didn’t win more championships, when years passed and you were still there, along with other champions and future champions. They started to call you old, washed, telling you to retire and placing bets on when you’d lose your seat. It was baffling because it had been six years since your championship, but it had been seven years since Fernando’s, but still, you were the only one whose spot was questioned all the time. It was unfair, and whenever they came up to you talking about it, you’d ask them if they’d ask the same to older drivers or other champions. They would leave you alone for a week and then come back stronger, ready to throw your whole career under the bus.

Finally, you got another chance at the championship in 2013, after an unbelievable start of the season with five consecutive wins. That had put you first in the standings for the championship, and from there on, your team molded the season around you. Smooth sailing through the season, you became world champion in Suzuka, way too far ahead in the championship to anyone be able to catch up to you.

When you stood on the podium that night, you cried happy tears. You had once again proved wrong years of demerit from the world. As you looked down to search for your family, your eyes found Fernando right beside them, a proud, emotional look on his face as he kept a hand over his heart, listening to your national anthem.

He nodded at you with a small smile, and a part of you healed a little bit.

You enjoyed a couple of days of pure bliss after becoming world champion. Parties, celebrations and trips, they were all you did for the next few weeks.

When the FIA Prize Giving ceremony came, you had another bombshell to drop at the world. You were the most stunning you ever felt that year when you arrived at the ceremony, in a beautiful dark blue dress with little crystals all over the bodice, a beautiful hairstyle and even more beautiful makeup. Never in your entire career in Formula 1, you had felt so fulfilled, so happy.

Hearing your name being called as the winner, the number one, was different this time, and had much more weight, and it made your heart burst with happiness. As you walked up the stairs to the stage, receiving your trophy, you stopped by the mic.

“Thank you so much. I’d like to thank my family for supporting me from the beginning, my team for making the perfect season, and the perfect car for me to be able to achieve this. I’d like to thank all my teammates that, in one way or another, taught me some valuable lessons as a racer. Thanks to Flavio for taking a chance on my career when probably no one else would.” You said, with a smile. You took a good look around, all the people in this sport who made Formula 1 the most important category of motorsport, all your peers, all the teams. “I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1, as of right now.”

There was a wave of shock and loud gasps in the whole room, flashes and flashes bulbing harder than before, journalists scrambling to take notes… But you kept smiling, hand firm around your trophy as you let the news settle down before speaking again.

“In 2007 I wanted to pay Flavio back for giving me the opportunity to be here today. That debt was paid that same year. After that year I wanted to win for myself, to write my name in the history books, and my dream is now realized. I feel like I should move on and make space for new upcoming talents.” Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, but you smiled, the first genuine smile in a few years.

Fernando felt his heart drop at your words. Things weren’t supposed to go like this, you two should be best friends, drive together, retire together. Go down in history together.

“I’m grateful for everything this sport provided me, the adventures, traveling around the world, the people I met and the people I lost,” there was a calm pause, and Fernando wondered if you were talking about him too, “Now it’s time to go and achieve new dreams. Thank you very much.”

You turned around and walked away under the applause.

Later, after the ceremony was done, you were getting ready to leave when Fernando came to find you. He was dressed in a beautiful suit, looking like a million dollar man.

“Nena…”

It made you pause. It had been a while since he called you like that with that specific tone. 

“What? Came here to gloat?” You couldn’t help but be defensive, worried.

“What?”

“I knew you’d be one of the happiest when I retired.”

“No, I would not-”

“You would, Fernando. You did. Many times you said I was done, that my prime was over, that I should retire…” 

“I never thought you’d easily give up!” He shouted at you, “Like you did in 2006, not competing against me.”

“That’s because they didn’t let me compete! Do you think I couldn’t have competed with you back in ‘06? I could, but every time, they would tell me to back off, to let you pass, to not fight you, to not overtake you-” You threw at his face, because you wouldn’t stand there and let him look down on you like that. You refused to back down now that you were finally free. “Pat threatened my seat if disobeyed team orders.”

“What?! Why did you never tell me that?” Fernando looked shocked. His fighting stance was completely gone now.

“You were going to be World Champion again. I would never take that from you,” You whispered, voice failing.

“Nena…” He said, like he wanted to drop everything. “Please, don’t leave. If Red Bull don’t want you, you can find another spot with another team, we can think of something.”

“Fernando, I’m not leaving because the team doesn't want me. In fact, they offered me a 3 year extension.”

“That’s not how it was supposed to go, remember? We planned that-” His voice was kinder than it had been to you in many years, “We would go down in history together. Win together, retire together.”

“When push comes to shove, only one wins… We learned that the hard way.” I say, with a sad smile, “Life doesn’t always go as planned. And I got everything I could ever want from Formula 1. Now it’s time for new stuff.”

“What new stuff?”

“I want to have a family, Fernando. People don’t stick around long for this lifestyle, you know that-” You shook your head.

With one last look at Fernando, your eyes watered, and you walked away.

Sitting on the porch, you looked up at the sky, thinking of what’s next for you. It had been months since you announced your retirement from Formula 1. The new season had already begun. It was your birthday, a refreshing new one.

You heard steps coming closer and your heartbeat sped up as you saw Fernando walking up to you. He sat down by your side, holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. He handed one to you and in silence, you started eating ice cream.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

“Was it hard to find me?” You asked, with a tentative smile.

“It only took me my whole life to find you again…” He said, wistfully, his eyes shining under moonlight and you didn’t know if those were unshed tears or not, “my best friend, my nena, my girl…”

“I’ve always been here. Right here.” You said, eyes watering. You weren’t sure you could explain what that here meant, but somehow you knew he would understand.

Fernando took your hand, gently placing it on his chest, right above his heart.

“Right here,” he whispered, pressing his hand above yours, over his beating heart, “you were always here.”

Then, he kissed you. For the first time in more than a decade, for what felt like the first time for both of you. As his other hand pulled you closer, the kiss deepened, like a prayer and a promise. Both of you knew there was a lot of resentment to navigate through, and a lot of feelings you’d both have to unravel and understand. But there was one thing that was always there, through hate, anger and hurt… And it was love, unshaken, steadfast love.

As you broke apart, Fernando pulled you into him, hugging you tight for a few minutes, before pulling away to hold your face with both hands, his eyes looking into yours with so much devotion it melted everything away.

“We will be alright.”

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[milykins]

Hacked

I felt like I needed to redeem myself with Donnie since I’ve had a couple comments where people expressed feeling sad that I had a girl scream and run away from him in a previous headcanon. I thought maybe I should give him something sweet and fluffy. Added some fun quotes as well.

Special thanks to @iridescentflamingo @the-cauldron-witch @avery73 and @sophiacloud28 for all of your help with this story, editing it and helping me with ideas! I hope you enjoy reading it!

Aged up TMNT x Reader

TW: None: Donnie's system keeps getting hacked into and he gets increasingly more frustrated.

“No I’m not playing hard to get! I’m telling you, Sir, it’s not that kind of phone line!”

“It’s always the time for accuracy, Leo.”

“When you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

“Let me be the bad-ass for once.”

On the outside, Donatello was the brain, the tech-wizard, the tinkerer. A master of all things technological and a true intellectual able to solve a Rubik’s cube in less than 20 seconds. If it was broken, Donnie could fix it, if it was a seemingly impossible situation, Donnie could figure it out. His three brothers relied heavily on him because he was the smartest, even Leo because there were some questions even he couldn’t answer. This is how it had always been, and he didn’t mind for the most part. He did feel like he was a valuable asset to the team if not a bit overused.

On the inside however, he was the shy one, the introvert, the one who secretly feared being alone forever while slowly descending into madness from his own self-induced seclusion.

Despite Chief Vincent telling them they’d be accepted by society, the collective agreement to stay hidden remained. It had served them well, why mess with it? As they aged into adulthood, it became glaringly obvious. Loneliness, the fear of being forgotten after their father passed on. The crushing reality that he may very well die alone.

He wasn’t like his brothers. Mikey had gotten himself on the scene pretty easily and had made friends and had girlfriends. Raph too, had managed to snag someone, even no-nonsense Leo had. That just left him and he couldn’t help but think. What was the point of having all of this intelligence, creating all of these wonderful inventions, all of the things he’d built… if there was no one but his brothers to share it with?

Donnie acted like it didn’t bother him but secretly he felt it: a sort of crushing loneliness that seemed to stretch on and on. Sadly, he’d sort of given up on meeting someone. It just wasn’t in the cards for him… or was it?

It had started off innocently enough, one day he’d come to work on his computer and noticed something was… off. His desktop looked normal but none of the icons worked when he clicked on them. It didn’t take him long to realize it was a false desktop placed on top of the real one. Odd, he thought. Who had managed to even do this? He’d had the best firewalls and encryptions and security that not even the FBI could crack. Yet, he’d been hacked, someone had hacked him.

He blew out a breath of disbelief, ran a diagnostic and fixed the issue in no time. He did a careful sweep and found nothing else out of the ordinary. He chalked it up to a fluke and went on with his day thinking that was the end of it.

Then it happened again. Upon sitting down in his computer chair he noticed his taskbar was horizontal.

“What the hell..?” He fixed it and upped his security and left it at that.

A week after that all of his icons were replaced with Hello Kitty characters. He was beginning to feel annoyed. Who was doing this, and why? It seemed like they just wanted to mess with him. Frustratingly he couldn’t figure out how they kept getting in. Every time, he strengthened his security it didn’t seem to matter!

He reached his breaking point the following week when he was re-routed to a popular Pokemon meme every time he clicked on something. He was going to find this person and ask them to stop. They weren’t that hard to trace and soon he was purposefully typing a message.

Please stop, you’ve had your fun but it’s getting old

No :)

Seriously, you don’t know who you’re messing with.

Someone who can’t even stop a low-level hacker, clearly.

Who are you?

No one :)

Why are you doing this?

I’m bored, it’s fun

Bored?! How did you even find me? These servers are highly encrypted!

LOL not enough… I was just bouncing around and found them.

Are you with the Foot?

What?! No? I told you, I was bored and saw your shit, and took it as a challenge.

A challenge indeed. Stop this now, this is your final warning.

He broke off their connection then because that had better be it.

Of course, it wasn’t. One boring Saturday night, he was zoned out, totally engrossed in one of his projects. His computer screen flickers a moment. He almost doesn’t see it thinking it’s a trick of the light but it does it again. Curiously, he moved to his computer screen. When he realized what was happening, he actually laughed.

“Seriously? Again?! They have no idea who they’re messing with…”

It was clear that this was same someone who had been hacking him for weeks was trying to get into his system again.

“I’ve got you this time…” His fingers fly over his larger-than-normal keyboard as he managed to secure a one-way live video feed.

“Someone forgot to cover their webcam…” He sang, “Hello, you’ve been hacked by Donatello, I thought I already told you to cease and desist.”

You are absolutely mortified. You’d been doing this for fun, and had no ulterior motives. Truthfully you had been bored and loved a challenge. Yes, you were warned but you didn’t think he would hack your webcam! Immediately, you attempted to hide, hoping he didn’t catch a glimpse of your face.

On his end, Donnie first heard a soft, distinctly feminine gasp and a string of curses. There’s a flurry of movement as you tried to move out of the range of the camera and swiftly stick a piece of tape over it. More shuffling followed, along with the sound of you returning to your computer chair.

He can’t help but feel amused. “There’s no point in hiding, I saw you. How did you think this was going to go?” He waited patiently for you to answer.

You swore softly. The cat’s out of the bag. Swallowing your embarrassment you gingerly peeled the tape off. It didn’t take you long to notice that the video feed only went one way. That was unfair and you intended to change that.

“Sorry…” you murmered. Shit, shit, shit! I’m gonna get you for that!

He took a moment to get a good look at you. Even with the soft lighting of what he assumed to be your bedroom, he could still make out your pink cheeks, flushed flushed with embarrassment and the bridge of freckles across your nose. It was… cute.

“Sorry?” He echoed. “That’s it? You still didn’t answer my question.”

“Do I have to?” You’re trying to keep him talking while your fingers worked their magic. If he could do it… so could you.

“No, but I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone. You’ve had your fun, go bother someone else, please.” He replies.

“But I like bothering you.” Almost there… just a few more seconds…

Donnie has to scoff at that. “You don’t even know me.”

“Not yet… there you are!” You cheered as you manage to tap into his own webcam.

In a split-second Donnie had instantly ascertained that she’d been distracting him. To his horror, the little red light of his webcam had blinked to life. Two seconds too long which meant he’d been seen…

“FUCK!” Immediately he cut the power, sending it straight through to your house. He was panicking, he’d been compromised, he was going to have to wipe her computer, all of her hard drives. His heart was pounding and his breathing had quickened as he tried to tamp down the panic he felt. No, maybe he’ll just find her… ask her to keep his secret…? All options were equally bad. What do I do…?!

Luckily, it didn’t take long for that powerful brain of his to think of a solution, albeit a temporary one. His fingers flew over the keyboard once again, restoring power on her side before getting to work.

You were utterly confused. Two seconds ago, maybe five…? Once the webcam was active, you saw what appeared to be the green, blurred image of his face. Was he wearing a mask? You heard the panic in his voice and the ensuing curse word right before your entire room was plunged into darkness. What. The. Hell. Just. Happened?

Just as quickly, it all came back and your computer was rebooting. Okay… you attempted to type once it was all back up and running but something was wrong. Nothing was clickable, nothing worked save for the cursor on your screen. Furrowing your brow, you kept trying, but to no avail. Then, something finally.

A message popped up on your screen and you wasted no time in reading it.

Apologies, I had no choice but to freeze your system. I promise I will explain everything but I need to do it in person. Meet me here:

There was an address to a building between two cross streets and he was asking you to climb the fire escape to the roof.

At first, you scoffed in disbelief. Hell no, you weren’t going to meet some stranger on a rooftop at some weird location. Did he think you were stupid?

Then, as if your mind is being read, another message popped up under the first.

I understand if this is something you might be uncomfortable doing but my identity and the safety of my family is at stake so I must give you an ultimatum. Meet me or your computer will remain frozen.

You swore softly to yourself. This wasn’t something you could fix on your own and you knew it.

You murmured a sarcastic reply. “Well, damn, I guess I’ll just go die then,”

He was giving you no choice and you needed your computer, not only for work, but it had everything. You considered it one of your most precious items. After a minute you’d made up your mind but you still packed your taser and pepper spray just in case.

Donnie was an absolute bundle of nerves. He’d already arrived at the location and was pacing back and forth while sticking to the shadows. He was berating himself about how stupid this plan was. She wasn’t going to show up, but he’d giving her no choice. He did feel a twinge of guilt but years upon years of lectures from Leo had made him be extra cautious. He couldn’t risk his family’s safety because he was careless.

You were nervous too as you carefully climbed the steps of the fire escape. Luckily, the building was only four floors but you still would’ve liked to take an elevator. Reaching the top, you took a moment to catch your breath.

“I do… computers… not stairs… you better be here.” Upon first glance you don’t see anyone and your annoyance grows. “Hello? Please don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing, I just want my computer back.”

Again, there was no reply.

Talking to yourself you groan. “Fuck… you are such an idiot…”

Donnie was only slightly panicking. To his amazement and relief, you showed up. In his anxious state he did manage to notice you looked kind of pretty despite the frown gracing your features. He felt frozen the moment he saw you but snapped out of it pretty quickly when he saw you about to leave.

“Wait!”

You turned. It was actually him. You recognized his voice prompting you walk closer to the source.

“Hello? If you’re here please show yourself. This is sus enough as it is and I’m already over it.” You couldn’t mask the exasperation in your tone. This was already beyond ridiculous.

Donnie had to admit he found her frustrated tone kind of endearing. In a fleeting thought he’d felt she was someone who could match wits with him.

 “Okay, okay, hold on, I’m coming out. Just… do me a favour and don’t scream, please.”

Arching an eyebrow you repeated. “Don’t scream? What kind of question is… oh.” You saw one extremely long leg and then another followed by a lengthy torso and a very green… okay, that’s definitely not human face. “Oh… so it wasn’t a mask…” It wasn’t as though he was unpleasant to look at though, just different.

He was trying his best to control his breathing, bracing himself for some kind of negative reaction. When none came, he took a breath and spoke, trying to keep his tone as even and neutral as possible.

“You see, when you hacked my webcam, you had unwittingly put me and and the safety of my family at risk… this is why I had to s-see you and why I froze your computer.” He was cursing himself inwardly for stuttering.

You were still trying to find your voice. You had SO many questions and actually still a bit annoyed. “First off… how…? You’re a turtle… I doubt anyone would even believe me… and… second… I didn’t even really see you! It was a complete blur and then you cut my power!” You exhaled as you took another breath. “NOW, I’m seeing you.”

Donnie couldn’t help but flinch a little. “I had to make sure, I had no idea how much of me you did see.” A soft sigh followed before he continued., pinching his skin just below where the bridge of his glasses was resting. “And if you had listened when I told you to stop, we wouldn’t be in this situation, now would we?”

He’s got you there and unconsciously you bite your lower lip. The stubborn part of you, however, wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet. “Well, how was I supposed to know that you were a… seven foot…”

“I’m six feet, eight inches.” He interrupted with his matter-of-fact correction.

Another exasperated exhale from you. “Sorry, six foot, eight inch… turtle man!” emphasizing your point, you gestured wildly at the full length of him with your arms. “Who’s apparently so good at hacking that my entire network is completely frozen and I had to drag my ass across town to beg you to unfreeze it!”

He was a little amused by this, he had to admit as his mouth quirked a smile. “Like, I said, I had to be sure, and might I remind you once again… you were the one messing with me.”

“Yeah! Because you were fun to mess with! It was giving me a chance to practice, and it was just innocent fun, it’s not like I could do what you did! And… AND you wanna talk about an invasion of privacy? You hacked my webcam first!”

Donnie blinked, she was really getting all worked up now, and he was trying not to stoop to her level. He was failing. “I only did it because I didn’t think you’d stop! I gave you fair warning.”

“I would’ve stopped!” He doesn’t believe you at all and you hate that because he’s right, messing with him had been too much fun.

“Really?” he deadpanned.

“Yes,” you stubbornly replied.

There’s no stopping his eyeroll at that. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

She crossed her arms with another soft huff. “Fine, don’t believe me.” A shrug followed. “So, now what?”

The tall turtle paused. Usually, he had all the answers but now that he’d frozen her computer and dragged her all the way out here, he felt at a loss of what to say. “I… I just wanted to make sure you’d keep my secret and not tell anyone.”

“Okay… I won’t.” A simple answer, and a truthful one. You watched as he looked at you a long moment. No doubt wondering if he could trust you or not.

Donnie was actually subtly checking for very slight facial cues to determine whether you were lying to him or not. He could tell that your heart rate appeared to be steady. Your gaze never wavered from his, no dilation of her pupils and no mouth tics either. He believed you.

“Okay.” He finally said. “Thank you. I’ll unfreeze everything once I get home.” He turned to leave. “Please get home safely.”

Wait… that was it? Just like that, he was leaving!? “Wait!” You rushed forward to grab his arm. “Wait… that’s it?”

He looked… confused? He had immediately zeroed in on your hand clutching his bicep and then back to your face. “Yes…? You agreed to not tell anyone so… you probably should… let me go? The less you see of me, the better? I thought you were… angry anyway.”

Reluctantly, you released his arm, speaking softly. “I’m not… that mad, I never was really, I just… didn’t want this to be… it. I feel like I could learn a lot from you.”

You watched as her hesitated, seemingly working through his own inner conflicts at this presented opportunity.

“You could…” He turned back around, facing you once again. “Although, you’re already pretty good, I was actually impressed that you’d made it as far as you did.”

You couldn’t help but puff up a little with pride. “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two.”

He actually laughed. Like a soft little chuckle with a wheeze, his lips blossoming into a smile. “Perhaps you could.”

You smiled back, that laugh of his was adorable. “I’ll let you go but, Donnie… don’t be a stranger, okay?” You already had known his name from getting into his system so many times.

He spoke your name too, softly. “Okay, I won’t.” He looked a little shy then. “Please, allow me to escort you home. It’s late.”

“How very chivalric of you.” Smiling at him with a nod. “I accept.”

Donnie looked pleased with this turn of events and then a little nervous. “I could… carry you, if you want, it’s faster going by rooftops.”

That was an unexpected offer. and now you hesitated before answering. “Oohkay… what are you, some kinda parkour master?”

He snorted softly with a little smirk. “Something like that, ready?”

When you nod, you’re scooped up into his arms at speed that makes you exhale quickly. Being in his arms and feeling the power they held was… nice.

“Hold on tight.” Is all he says and then he starts running.

Automatically you wrapped your arms around his neck watching as the edge of the building came closer and closer… and then, you were flying. Air shooting past your face at a speed that made your eyes water. Your stomach dropped and you clung tighter as you sailed through the air, landing with a thump on the other building.

“You, okay?” He wasn’t even out of breath, like this was easy for him.

“Yes…! Do you know where you’re going?” You ask a little breathlessly.

“Yep. Hold on, I’ll be there in ten.” He took off again, leaping across to the next and the next.

You had to admit it was probably the most exhilarating thing you’d ever experienced and you were actually a bit regretful when he stopped on the roof of your apartment building. Carefully, he brought you to your feet and pushed those large glasses of his up a bit.

“Here we are.” He was more relaxed now, you noticed and felt glad for it.

“Thanks, I appreciate you bringing me back.”

He offered a shy smile then. “You’re welcome. I dragged you out there, the least I could do is make sure you get home safely.”

“That is very much appreciated.” Feeling a bit shy yourself, you paused before heading in. “I’ll see you around.”

“For sure.” Donnie had found he didn’t want to leave yet either, he wanted to make sure you entered the apartment safely.

Heading in, you waved to him before closing the door behind you and took a deep breath. Wow… that really happened. That was incredible! You could barely contain your excitement as you went back to your apartment.

Once Donnie arrived home, true to his word he freed up her system and felt proud of himself for handling things the way that he did. He blew out a breath, leaning back in his chair a moment while lacing his fingers behind his head.

*bing*

He glanced at his screen to see his computer icons dancing and an unseen song playing in the background.

Ninja, ninja, rap, ninja, ninja, rap, go go go go. Go ninja go ninja go! Go ninja go ninja go! Go go go go!

Donnie snorted softly to himself and quickly typed a response.

Back in your apartment, your computer screen suddenly became flooded with memes. Mostly turtle ones of course and try as you might there was no containing your giggles and snorts as you watched them take over your screen. You liked him; there was something very endearing about his quiet shyness mixed with his sharp wit.

Typing back, you take over his screen once again. You took a breath and pressed enter. This was a big chance you were taking but you couldn’t help but feel a connection with the tall, lanky turtle man.

Go on a date with me

Check box yes or no

No rush

Donnie froze, his fingers twitching slightly as they hovered above his keyboard. She wants to go out on a date? With him? He had a mild panic attack for a moment and read and re-read the message at least ten times.

His cursor hovered over the ‘yes’ box. Come on Donnie, throw caution into the wind for once. When are you going to get another chance like this?

Making his decision finally, he clicked his mouse button.

Yes

You couldn’t hold your excitement as you blew out a breath of relief.

He said yes.

The End

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

been rewatchin' BTAS recently. so here's is some of my absolute fav episodes to name. 📺💥

...

(naturally, that's not all of my favorite episodes, haha. BTAS is just nearly perfect in terms of writing of an animated show. aside from a couple of lackluster eps, an' a few that i just don't personally care about much.

but anyways … 

‘blind as a bat’ was one of those eps, which actually made me so paranoid as a kid. losing your sight is one of the scariest things, which can happen to a person. an’ i love how they portrayed this via bruce, whose whole life is literally him fighting crime, but how will he do it now, when he can’t see anything? like, it doesn’t stop him of course. but man. it was so gut punching. BTAS not only understood batman / bruce, but they also gave him a lot of vulnerable moments like that. i mean, this was also one of like 2 or maybe 3 eps, where we see bruce tear up an’ it’s always gonna tug at my heart strings. admittingly, penguin mostly was there just to be well, an asshole, but i like how much it says about him, when he giddily an’ sadistically corners bruce, fully enjoying the fact, that he’s helpless. 

‘eternal youth’, i gotta appreciate how terrifying this episode is. an’ the utterly messed up the concept behind it. i think, that BTAS had really nailed the fact, that poison ivy is honestly a horrifying person. her rapey gimmick aside, her motivations an’ how far she’s willing to go for it … oh, she’s such a delightful psycho! i love, love ivy who acts like this. a proper female villain to boot an’ who’s also not a one trick pony, but can bring a lot of more of awful an’ chilling things to the table. not to meantion, that it's always good to see batman's other rogues, than the clowns to threaten batman's loved ones, esp if they had no idea that they do it.

‘joker’s favor’, for what it worth i’m happy, that i still can fully enjoy joker an’ harley’s characters at least in some media. i suppose, arkhamverse is fine too, but over the years, i feel like both of the clowns were overused in literally everything under the sun to the point, where i’m unable to stomach them in most outlets nowadays. i jus’ don’ wanna look at them or hear about them or anything … but here? oh, what a blessing! the best harley to ever exist. an’ one of two jokers, that i actually really like. as for episode itself, this has such an interesting flavor to it. not only we get to see what it’s like for a normal gotham citizen to be at the wrong place an’ at the wrong time, but also what smth like that can do to an otherwise a simple, everyday man. also, the joker crawling on his knees like a coward is always great. since i feel like many writers forget that aside from a crazy murdereous psycho, he’s also supposed to be a narcissistic wimp, who’s deeply afraid of death. an’ it was harley’s debut ep too. she’s so casually evil in it as well. an’ that’s kinda why i drew her without a mask btw. since we do see her face in that very ep.

‘nothing to fear’. i’ve talked so much about that ep, but i don’t mind talking about it yet again. a life changer episode for me. i also remember that while ‘pretty poison’ was entertaining as heck, an’ ‘on leather wings’ was breathtaking in some scenes, i’m pretty sure, that it was ‘nothing to fear’, which fully convinced a child me, that i will be always on the clock, sitting next to tv to watch every following episode of this show. so, yeah, forever gentle of this one an’ the concept behind it. also so many parallels an’ bruce’s fee-fees. i love how jonathan would always have that deeper, private key to bruce’s mind. an’ how bruce is always there to terrify him right back. 

‘read my lips’, when i was a kid, the twist of that episode made me so intrigued. bc i wouldn’t have ever thought about who the main villain was an’ how the show would handle it. like, you would expect a villain in typical sense. a man or a woman. or smth like that, not an actual dummy an' person who controls him, but belives that he's not. i love how this whole thing made bruce low-key paranoid as well, bc at some point, he also almost believes that the dummy is alive an’ cursed or smth. i also love how he doesn’t right away realizes that arnold is mentally ill an’ not just pretends like he is. bc it would have been such a clever scheme, if it was one to begin with.

to conclude this all, i will prob for sure ref those eps in my upcoming BTAS fic, bc yeah. i have a tunel vision in a way lol. but mmm, BTAS really feels like timeless classic at this point.)

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Nine - Turbulence

Part Twenty Eight

Content Warning - Vomit, Violence, & Gore

———

The human olfactory system is remarkably sensitive, able to detect a wide range of odors. It is known to trigger memories and reproduce strong feelings.

Humans are able to detect volatile chemicals and distinguish different scents rapidly, ensuring the safety of the body.

Smell or the olfactory system helps decide what you eat, how things can taste, and warns the person of potential hazards; often in cases of fire or gas leaks.

Pilots have been seen to have enhanced senses after compatibility testing and implantation, especially in the olfactory system. Increasing sensitivity to smell, taste, and hazard awareness.

When overuse occurs it can have an increasing negative effect on the enhancements seen from implantation and drift technology.

—

New Kaon was under siege, more than just one side of the city was being attacked and Megatron’s troops were spread out around the boundary. For the moment they were keeping the Quintessons at bay but it wouldn’t last forever.

Command was bustling and mechs were rushing around, Hound was sat down while someone he didn’t know was doing repairs to his gun and clearing out the sand filled barrel.

Knockout comes in although wrinkling his nose upon g drawing close to Hound, “You still reek of rust, Hound. Are you sure you’re repairs are well?” glancing up, Hound shrugs a bit, “I don’t exactly think now is the time to worry of it.” Knockout scowled before walking across command to talk with a few mecha.

Sighing slowly, Hound rubs his neck slightly, frowning as his assistance suits’ glove comes away with discharge and blood. Standing back up, he moves through to the other side of command where Megatron was on comms. He sits down on a crate and closes his eyes for a moment.

That moment didn’t last long.

Megatron was on comms with Cybertron and yelling, for how often Hound heard people make jokes about Optimus and Megatron being disgustingly married, this certainly reminded him more of how his marriage ended.

“You cannot request for the space bridge to be opened, you are not the senate and hold no power over it!” Megatron’s fist collided with the console and the screen flickered, “The law states that in the event of an emergency during the war on one of the colony planets—“ With a growl, Megatron pointed, “New Kaon is not a colony! Nor are we requesting the help of the United Cybertronian Army!” His claws dragged down his face.

Optimus Prime was clearly growing angry himself, optics darkening slightly and scowl evident even behind the mask, “Megatron, you can’t expect me not to intervene when Cybertronian’s are in danger.” Megatron growled, “But we cannot risk the lives of those on Cybertron for your need to intervene!” He moves closer to the screen, “This has not been a war between our people, this is a war against an old enemy and one that I intend to win while you seem content to lose!” Optimus stood and there was an echo through the other side of the line.

”And what, exactly, of my actions makes it seem like I do not wish to save our people?” Megatron laughed, “Just as always Prime, you fail to recognize the need for necessary sacrifices.” Optimus scoffs, “Sometimes you, Megatron, are too willing to write off the loss Cybertronian lives as necessary evils when it is easier than finding a proper strategy.” Megatron’s fist slammed back into the comms station, the screen shorting briefly.

He tried to take a breath, “Prime, the ridiculousness of your strategy, of threatening Cybertron for even a second, for the small number of lives you may evacuate and the little reinforcement you may bring, reminds me of your predecessors! After all, you were the one to comm me, while I was defending my people. You assumed that I would need your help defending my own.” Optimus stared at him and Hound swore that the room grew cold.

With a slight nod, Optimus took a breath, “Lord Protector, your outburst was unwarranted and your comparison baseless, we agreed in order for this peace to work that we must communicate. Would you not have done the same? I do not believe you are incapable, old friend, however I have found when times are dire, a helping hand goes farther than you think.” Megatron rolled his optics, arms crossed.

“Prime, I thought you would have outgrown this naïveté by now. I cannot spend precious time coddling your emotions, I need to attend to my people.” He nodded slightly, taking another breath and Optimus started to speak up, “Lord Protector, do not speak to me as if I am sparkling, I believe you forget I am calling as your Prime and that there are vows of your station which you are expected to uphold!” Megatron grit his teeth, before glancing down at the comms station and ending the transmission.

—

Optimus Prime stood in his office, staring at his transmission screen before looking across the room at Soundwave, “I believe that the Lord Protector has just implied that I should pen his resignation and tear up the peace agreement.” Soundwave stared unblinking, “Soundwave: suggests Lord High Protector will see the error of his way. Optimus Prime: is known for his limitless mercy.”

Optimus growled, “Prepare my battle craft, alert Elita and my other commanders, if he will not abide by his vows, then I have no need to abide by his wishes and will join my people in battle. Prepare a public statement, alerting the citizens to my imminent departure. It is time that the Lord Protector be reminded that I am not a golden statute.” he starts out of the room, pausing at the doorway, “And Soundwave,”

”Yes: my Prime?” Optimus takes a breath, “I need the solvent sent for the removal of the primal filigree. It need not appear on the battlefield, I would hate to anger the medic in the destruction of his work.” He turned down the hall, pedsteps heavy, “Soundwave: wonders if this can be called peace.” The poor mech's head hit the table.

—

The space was eerily quiet without the Prime’s voice coming through the comm line, even the explosions outside seemed muted. Megatron was quick to act and turned over the comms station which he had already dented and scratched.

Hound shifted on his crate, desperately wishing to be anywhere else but the current order of remaining by Megatron’s side seemed to linger. He attempted to escape more than once and had been blocked by those in the other half of command. Likely their scapegoat.

Instead, he felt maybe speaking up would be a better idea of escape.

“Well, uh, sir if you don’t mind me saying—“ “I do mind.” Hound was quick to shut up, staring as Megatron paced before the mech sighed deeply, “Proceed.” Hound cleared his throat a bit, “Uh, sir. That seemed rather violent.” With a nod, Megatron turned to the command table and reactivated the map of New Kaon.

The pair of them stayed silent for a minute, Hound watching as Megatron moved slowly around the map, “The Prime and I have always been the opposite sides of the same coin. For millennia we were enemies, as Jazz put it, kick down drag out enemies.” Hound tried very hard not to wince, “We both rose everyday to paint the earth with the other's blood, to stop our troops from being frightened of the other.” He sighed slowly.

Leaning forward, Hound stared, “Then how did the pair of you end up so… close?” Megatron chuckled lightly, claws tapping against the table, “Over a century of peace negotiations. We found ourselves stressed and only knew how to relieve it in one way,” There was a moment of pause where Hound was forcibly reminded that in that way, their species were more similar than he’d like to admit.

“Through aggression, through battle and eventually our schedules found us at the same places at the same times. Communication that wasn’t yelling and forced calm became typical. When the position of Lord High Protector was offered, it was one that I could not refuse.” He paused, staring down at the table.

He cleared his throat painfully, “I believe your rifle should be repaired and that our presence is needed on the battlefield.” Megatron was quick to leave command, leaving Hound sitting there for a moment.

”I’m beginning to think divorce should be universal and not seemingly just an Earth thing.” He grumbled and stood.

The back of his neck burned and drained as the time in his suit dragged on, starting outside, he nearly ran into the mech with his gun before jogging to catch up with Megatron, “Sir, my orders?”

“Kill the damned things, as many of them as you can, as fast as you can. Without getting yourself killed in the process. Primus knows I’ll never hear the end of it from your unit.” Hound tried not to smile, nodding before looking back out to the battlefield.

Where seekers were firing on the enemy and dropping bombs, while grounders were doing their best as the Quintessons continued to flood from the crashed ship, “That’s never in the plan, sir.” Hound checks over his gun before heading out towards the battle at a run.

Before now, his air tanks had been filled with fresh non-recycled air. Though now he had been away from Iacon long enough and in a mildly toxic environment where the air needed to be cycled.

All the smell hit him at once, the smell of himself and of the spent bandages in his cockpit. Of the food that he had to leave behind or thrown across the room. The current smell of his implants draining and face bleeding, and suddenly it was too much.

Gagging was the worst part, as not much was in his stomach, but what was ended up covered the legs of his assistance suit, “Oh god.” That only made things worse. His suit continued to run and he knew he didn’t have time to clean up.

Once the nausea passed, he strapped on his oxygen mask and activated the smaller tasks embedded in his seat for emergencies, it would have to do till the battle was done.

—

Ironhide was alerted first, Soundwave sending the emergency alert since the Prime was on the move. Though their disaster of a mission wasn’t fully cleaned up yet, there was a difference between one scouting ship and a full on assault on a Cybertronian run city.

Sunstreaker was still listening to Bluestreak, raptured by the concept of weapons designed solely to not harm cybertronian’s but cause catastrophic damage to organics. Bluestreak sounded tired, but kept talking, trying to keep Sunstreaker entertained and happy. He knew that Sunny wasn’t hurt, but it was hard to face that fact.

It was only when Ironhide came running over did he fall silent, staring, “What’s wrong?” Sunny grabbed up his helmet and put it on, shuffling back over to his piloting chair, “I just got word from Soundwave, the Prime is heading to New Kaon. They're under siege.” Blue gawked, “But, but how?” Ironhide shook his head a bit while Sunstreaker was getting back into his assistance suit.

“I don’t know, but Soundwave is making adjustments. Most of us are going there other than Skyfire and his mechs, Elita and her crew are being spread out on Cybertron to monitor the situation there but it is Elita we’re talking about.” Bluestreak sighed deeply, “So Soundwave is going to be with Elita’s crew while she’s with the prime.” Ironhide nodded.

It was only a few more seconds before Sunstreaker was plugged back into his suit, “Go ahead and wake up Civi, even if he’s hurt we’ll probably need him.” Ironhide shakes his head sadly, frowning, “Yes sir.” Before Sunny could even brighten his shattered visor, Ironhide was off.

Adjusting his cameras and deactivating the broken ones, Sunstreaker breathes slowly, “So, we’re moving out?” Bluestreak stared, “You could stay—“ “No, no way in hell.” Pushing off the ground, Sunstreaker offered a hand up to Bluestreak, “Come on, we’ve got Quints to kill.” Blue tried to smile.

Pulling him up, Sunny put an arm around Blue’s shoulders, “This could be interesting, it’s hardly been a week and a half, yet Hound already needs our help. Seriously.” Bluestreak tried to smile, nodding a bit but still couldn’t be convinced.

Sunstreaker looks at him and sighs deeply, stopping and turning quickly, taking Bluestreaks’ shoulders, “Blue, I am alright. I’m not hurt and if I was, you’d be the first to know. We’ve gotta focus, we’re going into something that sounds deadly serious. If you can’t pull it together they’ll sit your ass out and I’m going in regardless of my current state. Or, you do pull yourself together and have each others backs.” Bluestreak stared, open mouthed for a moment.

The moment dragged before Bluestreak rests his hands on Sunstreaker’s arms, staring at him, “Alright, alright. If you’re truly okay.” Sunny smiled a bit, “Scouts honor.” Bluestreak frowned slightly, “But you're not a scout. You're a front-liner.” And Sunstreaker laughed.

Throwing his arm back around Bluestreak’s shoulder, Sunstreaker started back towards where Ironhide went, “Tell me about where we’re going.” And this time, Bluestreak smiled, nodding, “Well, New Kaon was one of the first major strongholds built during the last war not on Cybertron, it was sort of the moment we all began to realize that this would be going on for a while.”

While Bluestreak talked, Sunstreaker listened and started to help the others reload supplies onto the shuttle. He was thankful that other then for the occasional pep-talk, he didn’t always have to butt into the conversation and Blue was content to fill the silence so long as Sunny was listening.

Most of the mecha around had turned down their audials.

—

It only took around an hour of peace for Sideswipe to grow bored and leave the bar, though now memorizing the way back out. Walking toward the taller buildings in Iacon though they were at a longer distance than he thought they’d be.

The sun had been on the verge of setting before he entered the bar and now it was nearly completely dark. If he didn’t feel confident that he could take anyone on this planet in a fight, he’d have probably adjusted his bracers before the trek back to the apartment.

It took about an hour to find his way back, exhausted and starving when he got there, only to freeze upon entering the apartment.

Elite-One and Breakdown were standing in the middle of the room, talking, Sideswipe clears his throat a bit, “Hey, BD, you’re supposed to be resting.” It was the first time in a little over a week that the old man had been in his suit.

Breakdown nods slightly, movements a bit stiff, “Something has happened on one of the colonies. Elita is meant to be watching over Cybertron, but—“ “But I’m not an idiot and refuse to let my Prime go into battle alone.” She sighs a bit, “I was going to request that you join Skids in north Iacon but you weren’t here.” Her hands rest on her hips.

With a bit of a nod, Sideswipe moves into the room and closes the door, “Uh, yeah. I didn’t exactly want to break apart Jazz’s apartment.” He slowly leans against the nearby wall, “And it’s late. Breakdown and I should be getting some sleep.” She very clearly did not like that answer.

“Sideswipe, Breakdown is coming with me to New Kaon. You can either report to Paraxus and remain under Prowl’s command, or you can join your team in North Iacon. There are no other options.” Sideswipe’s jaw twitched and his fingers flexed slowly, “You know, I don’t take orders well.” And Elita smiled, “Oh, I know. So, which is it going to be? And I will say this, your choice is going to be a determining factor of your future.” She glanced at Breakdown, “Ensure he makes the right choice and meet me outside.” She started out of the apartment and Sideswipe turned, Breakdown was quick to grab his arm before he could swing.

His grip was almost tight enough to crush the plating on Sideswipe’s arm, “Sideswipe, you are not going to strike your commander.” Simon was fuming, “And why the hell not? She’s not even giving me a choice in going!” Breakdown sighed deeply, “It’s because she’s the one one from her unit going. If you went it would look bad. Prowl suggested you stay.” Taking a deep breath, Sideswipe looks to Breakdown before pinging his comm.

Both men turn on their internal camera and properly look at each other.

Sideswipe looked exhausted, broken down while Breakdown looked well rested and almost human, “Sideswipe, go to North Iacon. Get to know your team and prove everyone wrong. You are capable and better at killing Quintessons than most.” Breakdown’s hand rested on Sideswipes shoulder, “You can rest on the transport and get some sleep once you’re there. If you went to Paraxus they wouldn’t trust you and if you snuck off to New Kaon you’d never leave this apartment.” With a deep sigh, Sideswipe nodded, rubbing his face.

“Alright, alright. But tell me everything when you get back. Then I’ll tell you about the bar that plays 80’s music.” Breakdown paused and started to smile, “Earth music?” Smiling and nodding, “Yeah, you’ll love it.” They shared a tired smile, before Breakdown started past him, patting Sideswipe’s back, “North Iacon.” Sideswipe nods, “North Iacon.” He sighs and shakes his head as the door closes behind Breakdown.

Sideswipe leans his head back and groans before moving to grab up some food and drinks for the trip.

Breakdown starts down to the street, looking for Elita, and just about jumps out of his skin when she seems to appear, “Well?” Smiling a bit, he nods, “Sideswipe will be on his way to North Iacon.” She smiles and nods slowly, “Good, come on then, I expect the only way to prevent either the Prime’s or Lord High Protector’s moods from growing worse is being fast and bringing better news.” Breakdown nodded and tried not to smile, “So, uh, my good health?” “Is the better news.” Nodding again, they started towards Iacon central, for headquarters.

They walked in silence for the first few minutes, Breakdown kept glancing at Elita, “So, what is New Kaon like?” Biting back a smile, Elita shrugs a bit, “Hot, dusty, and under attack currently. Ask what you actually want to ask Breakdown.” Nodding a bit, Breakdown glances around and looks back, “Why are we going?” Sighing, Elita shakes her head, “To prevent another war from starting in the middle of this one.” Breakdown nodded slowly.

—

The ground was blowing up around him and Hound was breathing heavily, thankful for the oxygen mask at that moment. Sand was blowing everywhere and he crashed behind some cover, arm half blown off and leaking oil.

He was thankful that it wasn’t painful to him.

Still breathing heavily, it took him a moment way too long to realize Mirage was over him, holding his suit’s arm together, “Hound!” Blinking a bit, he tilts his head slightly, “What?” The poor mech looked terrified, “What do you mean what? You weren’t answering!” Taking another breath, “Oh, sorry.” Mirage shakes his head a bit.

“Your arm is coming off.” Hound tried not to smile, shaking his head a bit, “No, it’ll be alright. Doesn’t even hurt.” Mirage looked horrified, hands getting covered in oil, “Your kind have been monsters to their heroes.” Sighing slowly, Hound pulls back and almost smacks the head of his suit into nearby rocks, “Mirage, you don’t know them.” His good hand came up and shoved Mirage back.

Once the mech was off him, Hound grabbed up his gun and stood again, staring out at the battlefield, “If you can’t accept that my job is to fight and die for this cause, then I’d suggest just staying away.” He throws his mech over the rocks and heads back into the battle, gun coming up and firing. Blasting apart the nearest Quintesson.

Mirage stayed in the sand, rifle abandoned around fifty yards back, his hands were covered in oil.

There were some things that were hard to face and at this moment, it was hitting Mirage hard. Hound didn’t feel pain when he was hurt, neither did Jazz or any of the other humans. They’d been engineered to not feel pain.

They’d all had new plating put over their own, which likely was stamped with property labels. Their mission had been a suicide mission for data and all of them threw themselves at danger as if they had no fear.

No matter how much he cared for Hound, the mech couldn’t accept that there was a path forward. Sinking a bit in the sand, Mirage looks at the clearing sky, it was already starting to get dark again which meant Hound would be exhausted long before the battle was over.

His spark fluxed painfully and he couldn’t help but swear loudly, he loved the idiot and if he didn’t at least try to protect Hound he’d never forgive himself.

With another swear, Mirage gets up and goes invisible, taking off back towards his rifle.

Hound was at present ripping the limbs off a Quintesson, bad arm and gun pinned. His other arm wrapped around a tentacle and pulled with horrific noises, ripping the thing apart with too little effort. At least in the eyes of any Cybertronian.

These suits were designed to kill Quintessons, they didn’t care how or if it was gruesome.

Megatron’s ion cannon was booming in the distance, while Hound’s fingers dug into the flesh of the alien and tore, spraying green blood across the rocks and sand.

The alien exploded with a perfectly placed rifle blast, Hound glancing back and scanning the horizon for Mirage, though not seeing him he could tell where the mech was and gave a light salute. There was a brief flash of a rifle scope in the light and Hound smiled.

Turning back towards the enemy, he did something that probably would freak out most of the mecha around, taking his busted up arm and heating up his gun. Preventing it from firing, he resealed the broken tubing and then tugged the broken plating back into a moveable position. It screeched and grinded which was painful on Hound’s ears, but he needed both arms working for this fight. The adrenaline the only think keeping him away.

———

A/N:

I had this chapter done like, 2 hours ago, but I was out of the house and kept adding little things. 3.7k later here’s the chapter. I kinda wanted to reach 4k but it’s fine.

Thank you @daffodils-and-bonfires for your help with the megop dialogue. I really wanted this moment to make clear that they were commanders facing the first actual parts of this war since the dawn of their peace.

I’ve loved all the asks I’ve gotten the last few days, please consider giving them a read.

But, yeah. I hope you enjoy this chapter it was a lot of work lol.

Tags:

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodlez @ratatatata248

As always, thank you to the incredible @keferon for this AU. It’s so fun.

[moody-alcoholic]

Bonfire Night

Summary: Ghoap x f!reader established relationship, WC: 6k. All sorts of fireworks going off tonight ;) This is purely self-indulgent, bonfire night shenanigans.

CW: +18 content MDNI. Fireworks, PTSD, mentions of bombs, mentions of injures, description of injures, hurt/comfort, sex, fingering, PiV sex, shower sex, oral (M&F receiving), threesome, overuse of the word cock, reader can’t cook, not proof read/first draft.

AN: This one really got away from me so yeah...

Resources: Help for Heroes Combat Stress

The Missing Piece - Masterlist AO3 Stay safe and enjoy <3

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” You ask sitting down on the sofa between Simon and Johnny. They look confused, you look up at Johnny who’s eyes dart to Simon. 

“Tomorrow is..?”

“Bonfire night,” you say, frowning at them. Johnny smiles.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in the UK for bonfire night.” He says. 

“Not even as a kid?” 

“Scottish.” He says as a matter of fact, pointing at himself.

“King James was Scottish.” You tease, leaning back. 

“What do you want to do?” Simon asks.

“I don’t know, when I was a kid it was hot-dogs and jacket potatoes while watching fireworks in the garden.” 

“One year instead of burning a Guy Fawkes effigy's me and Chloe made stick figures of our exes and burned them.”  

“Then did you dance around the fire and chant curses?” Johnny teases. You kick him and he grabs your feet pulling your legs onto his thighs. 

“Well we’ll probably be able to see plenty of fireworks from the balcony.” Simon says.

“Or we can see if there are any bonfires nearby?” Johnny asks. You lean against Simon as he wraps his arm round you. 

“A nice night in sounds good, I’m not working. I don’t mind cooking.” You offer. 

“Hot-dogs and jacket potatoes?” Johnny asks raising an eyebrow. 

“With so many caramelised onions you’ll have a heart attack.” You say smiling. 

“Sounds like fun.” Johnny says stroking your leg. You hum smiling at him leaning against Simon’s chest as you turn your head to watch the TV. 

—----------—

You’re cooking for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s simple food, jacket potatoes and hot-dogs. The potato part is easy, stab them, wrap them and chuck them in the oven. For some reason though the caramelised onions are kicking your ass.

“I can help if you want?” Johnny asks from the table. You look up at him over the second pot you’ve used today. The other one is soaking in the sink with a layer of burnt onions in the bottom.

“I’m fine. I know what I’m doing.” You huff, looking back down at the onions as you put more butter in the pan. You hear Johnny chuckle as Simon comes into the doorway of the kitchen. 

“Need a hand?” He asks, you look over at him frowning. 

“I said I could do it.” You snap, he holds his hands up going down the step and over to Johnny. 

“Quick Si, she might throw a plate at you or something.” Johnny teases. Simon goes behind him wrapping his arms around his chest as Johnny tips his head. You frown at them, digging your eyes into Johnny. He just smiles, the cheeky grin he always has on his face. For some reason it irritates you and you pick up your glass of wine taking a sip.

“Why don’t you both go and watch the fireworks until I’ve finished.” You say trying to hide the irritation in your voice. You can tell from Johnny’s giggle you’re not doing well. Simon nods though patting Johnny on the shoulder before turning to head for the balcony door. 

“Good idea, c’mon Johnny.” Simon says opening the door. Johnny smiles following him out. The sky is being lit up with all different colours as fireworks explode over London. In the distance larger public displays dominate the skyline. 

Simon leads Johnny over to the outdoor sofa as he picks up one of the blankets and throws it over them both. Johnny leans against Simon his eyes fixed on the sky, Simon hums leaning back throwing his arm over Johnny’s shoulder.

There is no break in the pops and bangs across the sky, the smell of gunpowder is strong in the air, Simon can see other people watching from balcony's. Some of the explosions are louder then others sounding like they’re exploding right above them as shades of red light up the area. 

A particularly loud set of large fireworks go off just on the other side of the Thames. Simon watches them in awe.

“Did you see that Johnny?” Simon asks nudging him, Johnny’s head turns slightly but he doesn’t say anything. No chipper remark or witty comeback.

“Johnny?” Simon looks over at him his eyes wide, his body stiff, his knuckles white as he grips the blanket. 

“Soap?” Simon calls in a slightly harsher tone. Johnny’s head flicks to look at him almost instantly. 

“Fireworks are just colourful bombs ya know.” He says, Simon can see the distant look in his eyes. He straightens up picking Johnny’s hand up. 

“They call gunpowder lift powder in fireworks factories.” He continues, there’s a shakiness in his voice. Simon smiles squeezing his hand.

“Yeah? What else Johnny?” Simon encourages him, turning in so he can pull him further up his chest. 

“Well I learnt that from a guy I trained with. He used to work in a fireworks factory before joining the army.”  

“Pretty bombs huh.” Simon says squeezing his hand again looking out as more fireworks pop across the sky. 

“Yeah, not very convenient as bombs though. I mean could you imagine selling anything that powerful to civilians.” Johnny chuckles.

“Yeah, it would be chaos.” Simon replies. Fireworks explode closer to the apartment building, each one makes Johnny tense. 

“‘Member that training exercise we did once. The one where they filled the fake bombs with smoke?” Simon says pulling Johnny’s hand to his lips and kissing it.

“Yeah, I always forget how much that shite stings your eyes.” Johnny smiles looking over at Simon. 

“Remember Gaz, dropping his gas mask and having to drag him out?” 

“I remember him throwing his guts up.” Johnny chuckles, Simon smiles. Another explosion very close by. Simon watches Johnny's smile fade and his eyes widen. His grip on Simon’s hand tightens. 

“C’mon let’s go inside.” Simon says brushing his hand with his thumb. Johnny sighs.

“I’m fine.” He insists. Simon kisses his hand again.

“Give me another fact.” Simon says smiling.

“Did you know fireworks where created by accident?” Johnny says turning to look out the balcony. He scoots closer to Simon who can feel Johnny's heart pounding in his chest. 

“Oh yeah?” Simon says pulling him closer and kissing him on the top of his head. He watches as colourful explosions fill the sky.  

Smoke is swirling in the air like a thick fog. Simon hears some kids shouting, screaming as the sound of rockets shoot through the air. He cranes his head over the balcony to watch them dodging rockets they’re shooting at each other. He lets out a sigh leaning back as Johnny strokes his hand.

The door opens and you step out. 

“Hey, foods ready.” You say watching as Johnny shoots up throwing his arm round you as you take him to the kitchen. 

“Smells good lass, so you won the fight with the onions?” He says looking at all the toppings you have laid out. In the kitchen, with the cooked potatoes and hot-dogs in buns.

Johnny takes his time to complement everything you’ve made ignoring the mess you’ve created in the kitchen. You promise him you’ll clean it up later. He nudges you telling you not to bother. 

You all sit on the sofa, watching TV while you eat. It’s a Saturday night which means the TV is dominated with game shows and talent shows which Johnny and Simon spend no time giving their opinions on. 

You’re tired from all the cooking and after you finish your food you curl up on the sofa with your head in Simon’s lap while Johnny is sat on the floor between Simon's legs rubbing his belly. He must have eaten at least 4 jacket potatoes, mounted with cheese and beans. 

“That was amazing.” Johnny says reaching over for his beer. Simon chuckles his hand running down your back. It’s nice, your belly is full and you're feeling sleeping, looking out the windows to see the different colours still lighting up the sky.

“It was very lovely.” Simon says. You turn so you’re laid on your back your head resting on his thigh. He looks down smiling at you as one of his hands comes up to stroke your hair. You hum as his fingers massage your scalp.

“Thank you, I’m glad I finally won the fight with the onions.” You say. Simon chuckles looking down at you, his eyes glaze over, there’s a twinkle there though and you smile back at him. It’s nice his other hand coming up to map out your face, his thumb brushing over your lips. It makes a burn rise in your core. You did a good job and you made them happy, that makes you happy. 

“You did good.” Simon smiles looking down at you. You close your eyes humming as Simon’s hand lazily travels down your body to your waist. His thumb dips below your waistband. His hands are warm, making goosebumps rise on your soft skin.

You turn your head back to the TV while Johnny tips his head back leaning against the sofa. Simon’s free hand runs through Johnny’s hair, running his fingers up and down his mohawk. You listen to

Johnny talk about what's happening on the TV, a talent show or something. Simon’s hand runs across your stomach, up to your chest, his fingers brushing over your nipples, the feeling is jarring it makes you gasp and your head looks up at him. He smiles looking back down at you. 

His eyes still have that cheeky glint. Your breathing picks up he doesn’t stop, pinching them between his thumb and finger. You try not to squirm, you don’t want Johnny to feel left out, at least it feels like he doesn’t care for right now.

You swallow hard, your body warm and relaxed his hand working it’s way down from your breast back to your waist. Your hand stops him and you shake your head. He looks at you confused as you tip your head towards Johnny.

Simon laughs and it makes Johnny turn round, your head snaps at him your mouth hanging open your cheeks flushed red with Simon’s hand halfway in your pants. Johnny takes in the scene smiling before leaning forward and pressing his lips onto yours. 

You close your eyes letting him play with your tongue, you can taste the salt on his lips. You’re enjoying this, Simon’s hand works down into your PJ bottoms his fingers pushing through your folds to press against your clit. It makes you moan into Johnny’s mouth. He pulls away getting up onto his knees. 

“Christ, Si you desperate or something?” He says moving from between Simon’s legs to the end of the sofa. You’re not sure what he want’s to do but he looks at Simon and they do that thing where it’s like they’re mentally communicating. Simon shuffles and you sit up his hand leaving your pants you suddenly feel empty. Johnny giggles hooking his hands under your knees and pulling you to the edge of the sofa. 

“Johnny you were full.” You say but honestly you don’t really care, you just want to feel someone's hands on you. Johnny seems to understand gripping the waistband of your bottoms pulling them off with your underwear in on quick action. 

Now you’re definitely sure you know what he wants. You spread your legs for him, Simon turns to face you gripping the hem of your shirt and you raise your arms letting him pull your shirt off. You let them move around your body as Johnny buries his head between your thighs and Simon locks his lips onto a nipple.

All of a sudden your whole body is tingling, goosebumps rising all over your skin as your hand lands on Simon’s head. It’s like their working in sync, each lick of their tongues making you moan. 

You can’t tell which feels better and you don’t care, it all feels good. “Is this your way of saying thank you?” You ask, your breathing picking up. Simon pulls off your nipple chucking, he hums moving his mouth to your lips. His hand coming up to cup your breast. The kiss becoming sloppy as you try to focus on one thing at a time, as your breathing turns into panting. 

Johnny’s speed increases. Simon looks down at him running his hand through his mohawk. His eyes look up but his mouth doesn’t move, his shiny blue eyes, he’s moaning on you sending vibrations though your core.

“Good boy Johnny, you gonna make her feel good?” Simon says his voice low humming in his throat as he grips Johnny’s hair keeping him in place. The frantic sucking and licking you’d been enjoying stops.

Johnny nods and Simon loosens his grip on his hair and he goes back to running his tongue over your clit. It’s deep and long strokes, you don’t even realise Simon has gone back to your nipples until he nibbles on them making you gasp. 

You’re getting close your hand gripping Simon’s hair again. “Johnny.” You cry, your legs squeezing round his head. Johnny chuckles, the vibrations push you over the edge. You cry out cumming as Simon and Johnny ride you through the orgasm, there mouths not leaving you until you chuckle letting go of Simon’s hair as you try to normalise your breathing. 

“Holy crap.” You breathe as Simon and Johnny pull off of you. They look up at you smiling. “Definitely a good way to say thank you.”

“Any excuse for Johnny give you a good time.” Simon says laying back on the sofa next to you. You look over at him palming his cock bulging in his pants. You smile at him pulling your legs onto the sofa, you get on your hands and knees crawling over to Simon.

He can tell what you want as he leans back further on the sofa letting you reach down into his sweat pants pulling him out. You hear Johnny sigh as he runs his hand up your thighs. You smile at Simon pressing your thumb over the tip of his cock, he’s already wet with precum as you bring your lips down letting your tongue circle round the head before thrusting your mouth down.

You feel Johnny stand up but he keeps his hands on you. Then he climbs on the sofa behind you. His hand running down your hips squeezing your ass his thumbs spreading you apart. 

You’re too busy preoccupied with Simon not paying attention to Johnny, just enjoying the feel of his hands on your body. The next thing you know his cock is pressed against your entrance. You’re moaning around Simon’s cock, forcing yourself to take him all the way with each thrust.

Johnny presses into you and you pull your mouth off Simon moaning as you feel Johnny stretching you out. You tip your head letting your hand pleasure Simon, you look up at him as Johnny lets out a moan before thrusting himself all the way into you. 

“Christ Johnny,” you breathe as his hands grip your waist bouncing you on his cock. Simon’s hand reaches down to your clit which makes you clench around Johnny. Your mouth waters as you replace your hand on Simon with your mouth again. 

He hums, his fingers knocking against your clit with each buck of your hips. You’re focusing on Simon, taking him all the way, or at least as far as you can. He doesn’t seem to mind though his moans sending shivers down your spine. 

You’re propped up on one arm with the other hand wrapped round the base of Simon’s cock. Johnny’s breathing picks up and his moans become more frequent, his hips drive into you harder his cock rubbing past your g-spot with each thrust. It makes you speed up your strokes on Simon, pressing your thumb into the underside of his shaft.

“Easy Johnny.” Simon says his free hand resting on the back of your head forcing you to slow down.

“Sorry Si, she feels so good.” He grunts, his hands moving up from your hips to your back. He runs his hands to your shoulders squeezing them before speeding his pace up again. You moan round Simon’s cock which causes him to squeeze your hair again, letting out a moan as his head tips back. 

You’re going to cum, Simon's fingers on your clit and Johnny’s relentless pounding is too much. You clench round Johnny as he slows his thrusts, almost pulling all the way out before pressing back into you.

“You gonna cum love?” Johnny asks between breaths. Simon pushes your head all the way down on his cock and you gag your mouth filling with saliva. 

“Mm-humm,” you moan as Simon lets go of your hair, giving you full control to move your head how you want. You’re chasing your own orgasm as Simon’s fingers press faster on your clit. You’re not going to last longer. You clench round Johnny thrusting your mouth all the way down choking on Simon as you cum.

“Christ love-” Johnny cums too, Simon’s speed on your clit doesn’t slow as Johnny throbs inside you. His hands running up and down your back as you shiver. You pull your mouth off Simon looking up at him smiling. 

As Johnny pulls out you sit back on your knees as he wraps his arms round you squeezing you. You watch as Simon strokes himself and you break away from Johnny straddling over Simon. You reach down gripping his cock and guiding it into you.

Simon sighs his eyes glazing over, as you bounce on his his hands coming down to squeeze your ass. You lean forward pressing your forehead against his looking into his eyes. He lets you control the speed as you take it slower. Then your phone starts ringing. You look over at Johnny who picks it up. You groan when you see the name Amy on the screen. Its work. You sigh looking over at Simon.

“Need to take it?” He asks. 

“It’s work, they probably want me to come in.” You sigh dropping your head and stopping your movement. Now you’re just sat there with his cock inside you. The call ends and you wait a few seconds before it rings again immediately. 

“Crap.” You say letting frustration slip though. 

“I thought you weren't on call.” Johnny asks as he hands you your phone 

“I’m not but it’s A&E on bonfire night, and it’s the weekend.”

“Hey Amy.” You say answering it. Simon smiles at you, there’s a twinkle in his eye as he hums gripping your hips. 

“Hey, can you come in and help, we’re 4 short.” She says, you sigh but Simon starts thrusting his hips in you causes your words to catch in your throat. Johnny chuckles, his hands landing on your shoulders squeezing them.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something, is there no one else?” You ask, as Johnny’s hands work their way round to your nipples.

“I’ve tried everyone, most people have hit their overtime already.” She explains you can hear the desperation in her voice. You have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from crying out. You pull the phone a way from your ear pressing it against your chest. 

“Simon-” you say quietly, he shushes you pressing a finger up to your lips. It feels good you can’t focus on the call tipping you head back and letting out a moan as Simon drives into you harder. Johnny's still playing with your nipples as one of Simon’s hands moves to your abdomen his thumb pressing on your clit.

You almost forget about the call, maybe this is their plan to fuck you so good you can’t work. You snap back to reality bringing the phone back up to your ear. 

“What time?” You ask her hoping she can’t hear the slur in your voice and the wet sounds of sex echoing through the flat.

“Now, until 8am?” She says, you hear another phone ringing in the back ground, and an alarm. You’re too blissed out to care.

“I’ll come,” you breathe down the phone clenching round Simon to stop yourself from actually coming.

“Thank you so much, you’re amazing honestly, we could really use your expertise-” You hum hanging the phone up and throwing it on the sofa as you fall back against Johnny who holds you while you cum, Simon throbs inside you. His fingers pressing into your skin.

“You going to work?” Johnny asks. You nod enjoying the feeling of his hands on you as you come down from the high. You open your eyes looking at Simon who pulls you against his chest kissing your neck. You hum enjoying the feeling before sighing and sitting up. 

“I’m sorry, It’s going to be 12 hours of blast and burn injures. They really could use my help.” You step up off Simon's lap, you can feel their cum dripping down your inner thighs as you walk over to the bathroom to clean yourself up. You really wish you didn’t have to go to work, maybe you could said you were drunk or something. You leave the bathroom heading into the bedroom as Johnny follows you in. 

“How long will you be gone for?” 

“Hopefully I can get off as early as possible. 12 hours max.” You sigh pulling on some underwear and a bra.

“Okay, let me drive you at least?” Simon says coming over to the bedroom as you pull your uniform on. You nod.

—----------—

You let out a sigh as you walk through the front door, the sun is up now turning the sky pink and red. You need a shower you’ve spent way too much time covered in blood and burnt flesh for a lifetime.

It almost reminded you of some of the hospitals you’ve worked at in war zones, people waking around with limbs barely hanging on. The burns are the worst, you can deal with the blood but the smell of burning flesh and muscle is something you think you’ll never quite get used to.

“Hey.” Simon calls behind you as you’re emptying your pockets. You pulled an unused tourniquet out and what seems like half a wards worth of pens and tape. You let out a sigh putting them down next to your keys.

“Rough night?” He asks, you finally look up at him and nod. 

“First time I felt like I was back on deployment. Screaming ward sisters have nothing on angry generals though.” You smile. He comes over to you wrapping his arm round your waist and pulling you up to his lips.

The kiss is soft and gentle something you needed after such a long night. You forget the fact you stink, you let the horrors of the shift wash off you as he pulls you up against him. You kiss him back almost needy, you needed this. He pulls away first his hand coming to brush your cheek.

“Shower? Then you can tell me all about how horrible the shift was.” You smile at him and kiss him back quickly.

“Where’s Johnny?” 

“He had a bit of a rough night. Turns out fireworks so close to home, not really his cup of tea.” 

“Shit, you should have called me. I could have come home, said it was a family emergency.” Simon chuckles.

“Thought you would be having fun arms deep in blown off limbs.” He says wrapping his arm round your shoulder following you to the bathroom. You chuckle as you open the bathroom door.

“Join me?” You invite him raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t hesitate following you into the room as you go to turn the shower on. 

“Let me.” He insists almost bullying you out the way so he can mess with the water. You let him stripping your clothes before coming up behind him running your hands up his shirt. He turns, a smile growing on his face as he sees you naked his hands coming up to your breasts. You hum as he brushes his fingers over your nipples.

You pull on the hem of his shirt, you want to take it off. He gets the idea stepping back and pulling his cloths off as you step into the shower. It’s hotter then you’re used to but you don’t mind it’s nice to get the grit out your hair letting the water soak through to your scalp.

Simon gets in behind you his hands on your hips pulling you back against him, his hands work their way up your body. His hands are soft and slow as she maps your curves with his fingers. He’s not as needy as Johnny, he likes to take his time. Touch you all over before he starts squeezing and flicking your nipples between his fingers. 

He hums into your neck as his hand travels, down your stomach his hands never leaving contact with your body. You relax against his chest as his tongue runs up your neck. His fingers press through your folds running up and down your clit. You can’t help moaning, your hips pressing further against him. 

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your lower back. You turn in his arms and he presses you further into the shower. The water is hot down your back, your feet ache from being on them so long. You reach up on your tip-toes and kiss him your hand running down his chest. 

You run your hand down his cock, your thumb brushing over the tip. Simon moans in your mouth before pulling away to look down at you. His thumb brushes over your lips as you continue to work your hand round him. He presses you back against the wall. His fingers are pressing up against your entrance as you rock your hips towards him. He chuckles and you grip his shoulders. 

“So perfect.” He hums, pressing his lips to yours. You sink into the kiss as his tongue runs against yours. It’s hot and needy as you wiggle your hips trying to force his fingers in you. He finally relents after what feels like minutes of teasing, pushes his thick fingers into you. You break from the kiss moaning as works them deeper into you, curling them up to hit the oh-so-sweet spot. 

“Simon-” You breathe clenching round his fingers as he controls the speed. His palm presses against your clit as you buck your hips up against him, his cock pressing up against your stomach.

“Feel good?” He asks his voice low almost being drowned out by the running water. You tip your head back panting as he drives you closer to the edge. The steam makes your head feel stuffy as you chase the feeling. Every time you clench around his fingers he speeds up making you gasp and moan into his neck.

“Yes, don’t stop.” You beg as you dig your nails into his shoulder. “Si-” It’s all you manage as you cum on his fingers biting your bottom lip as you moan. You don’t want to be too loud and wake Johnny. 

Simon rides you through the orgasm slowly pulling his fingers out. Your using the wall to support you as your hands fall down to grip his biceps. You look up at him his hair wet pressed against his forehead, you smile at him he smiles back.

You run your hand down his chest to his cock, you wish you could suck him off but there is no way enough room in the shower. At least you would be off your aching feet though. Your thumb knocks against his tip and he twitches in your hand. 

“How’s this going to work?” You ask looking up at him. He cheeky smile comes across his face.  

“Let me,” he says, you frown at him before his bends down hooking his arms under your thighs pressing you up against the wall. You let out a yelp as he holds you like you weigh nothing. You wrap your legs round his back as he slowly lowers you down to the right height. 

“You okay?” He asks moving one of his arms as you lock your hands round his head. Your fingers brushing through his wet hair. He nods and you feel him line himself up with your entrance. You patiently let him do what he needs to do as you hold onto him for dear life. As he slowly lowers you down on his cock it’s like it’s pressing all the air out your lungs.

“Relax,” he says moving his arm back to support you better. You don’t want to what if he slips, he’s holding you up against the wall. “C’mon, I got you, relax.” You sigh relenting and shifting your weight. 

“That’s it,” he says bucking his hips up into you. You moan out as he thrusts into you. You grip his hair, twirling it round in your fingers as he grips your ass pulling you up and down on his cock. You feel so full as you clench round him, he twitches inside you causing you to dip your head into his neck. 

“You feel so good,” you say pressing your lips on his neck. He hums as he bonces you up and down. You’re surprised he’s managing to hold you up as your body becomes slippy with the water. You don’t care though, he feels too good it’s making your head spin, your body relaxes into him your hands running up and down his neck, your head tipping back to hit the wall. 

“Last night wasn’t enough?” You ask panting into his hair. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He says, you chuckle moving your hands to his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. You kiss him deep and long chasing the orgasm building inside you.

“Gonna cum.” You say between kisses. 

“Yeah, cum for me. You deserve it.” He pants. You moan out calling his name as you cum your pussy spasming around him. He cums too with one final thrust pulsing inside you. Your head drops against his chest as he pulls out of you lowering you to the floor. 

Your legs feel like jelly and you have to keep holding on to him. He chuckles, turning you round and letting you rest up against his chest as he presses you back under the shower.

He takes his time to wash you, picking up a scrubber and lathering your body with some kind of orange smelling soap. You let him wash you and listen to him as he tells you how good you’ve been for them. How strong you are for working a horrible 12 hour shift, you're almost falling asleep in the shower accepting the praise. 

“I love you.” You say to Simon as he reaches over turning to shower off. 

“I love you too.” He says bringing your chin up and kissing you. 

He helps you dry even though you don’t need It your body feels heavy your limbs feeling like lead weights. You accept the help as he follows you into the bedroom so you can change into pyjamas. Johnny is still asleep snoring softly as you try to be as quiet as possible pulling on clean clothes. You pass Simon the towel, reaching up and pressing a kiss on his lips. 

“Get some rest I’ll wake you up later.” He whispers smiling. You nod heading over to the bed. You pull back the covers climbing in behind Johnny, pressing your chest against his back and wrapping your arm round him. He murmurs tipping his head back as you snuggle under the duvet. 

“Missed you.” He says sleepily grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips kissing it.

“Missed you too.” You say. Laying down into the pillows. He turns round in the bed, his eyes half open as he wraps his arm round you pulling you up against him. 

“How was your shift?” He asks yawning.

“Ugh, I’ll tell you later. I’m tired.” You say his yawn making you yawn too. He chuckles squeezing you tight against his chest. 

“Love you Johnny,” you whisper closing your eyes.

“Love you more.” He slurs his lips pressing against the top of your head.  

—----------—

“Hey love look what we got!” Johnny says enthusiastically coming over to you before you have time to react. You’re still rubbing sleep out your eyes as you walk over to him.

“Sparklers.” You smile as he thrusts the package in your hands.

“Yeah we thought since you missed the fireworks last night it would only be fair to save the sparklers for you.” He says, you look up at him smiling before wrapping your arms round him, hugging him. They didn’t have to do that. Johnny breaks away from the hug letting his hand drop to your waist pulling you over to the door. 

“Hey Simon, you coming?” You ask waving the sparklers at him in the kitchen. He nods picking up a lighter off the table. Johnny’s giddy with excitement bouncing out the door onto the balcony. It’s cold and you’re only in your pyjamas.

You should have got a coat but you’re too wrapped up in Johnny’s enthusiasm. He opens the package handing you a sparkler as Simon comes out onto the balcony. He hands you a jacket and you thank him before Johnny shoves a sparkler in his face. 

You pull the jacket on then hold the sparkler out so Simon can light it. You almost immediately start making circles in the air. You smile letting a chuckle come out spelling out your name in the air. You look over at Johnny who looks like he’s drawing spirals in the air.

You feel a warmth bubble inside you. It makes you think back to your childhood. Funny how such a simple activity can invoke such strong feelings of nostalgia. Simon lights his last moving away from Johnny. You take another step back. 

“Hey, lass.” Johnny calls, you look over at him as he draws a heart in the air. You chuckle copying him. Simon rolls his eyes, holding his out making swirls in the air. You watch as Johnny enthusiastically makes shapes, you smile leaning up against Simon. Fireworks are still going off sporadically but Johnny seems completely distracted. 

“I feel like Harry Potter.” He says at one point waving it around like its a wand. You laugh at him, Simon rolls his eyes. It’s nice being out here with them, you turn to look over the wall at the firworks flying across the sky. 

“Woah look at that one!” You call pointing with your sparkler. You turn to look at Simon and Johnny smiling back at you. Johnny’s sparkler dies out and he huffs throwing it on the floor. 

“Hey, maybe next year we can set our own off?” You smile. 

“I can make them!” Johnny shouts enthusiastically, looking at Simon who looks between you both. 

“That would be awesome, we can pick our own colours, we’ll have the best fireworks show in the area.” You say matching his enthusiasm throwing your spent sparkler on the floor and jumping into his arms.

“I don’t know if that’s strictly legal.” Simon says.

“You’re such a buzzkill LT.” 

“Yeah Simon, Johnny would make the best fireworks.” You chuckle. 

“Maybe, we can talk about it next year.” Simon says throwing his sparkler down. You smile at him letting Johnny throw his arm around you, pulling you against him. 

“It was a good bonfire night.” You say.

“You worked a 12 hour shift.” Johnny chuckles.

“It was a good shift. Let me tell you about all the burns I treated.” You nod. Simon smiles and turns to open the door back inside. 

“C’mon. It’s cold, lets order some food.” Simon says. Johnny follows in after him talking about what food he wants. You take a second to look back out at the fireworks still going off. It has been a good bonfire night, you smile and head inside. 

—----------—

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Pt. 2)

—

Tw: canon-typical violence (Batman), emetophobia at one point

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

Danny sat in the back of one of the transport trucks currently on the way to Arkham, his hands in his lap.

So far, everything was going to plan.

About a quarter of the team had gotten themselves admitted into Arkham in the days leading up to the raid, carefully sneaking in supplies and weapons for both themselves and the rogues they were going to free.

Half of the team was on trucks, ready to storm the building with their fancy new tech. A couple others were keeping an eye out for the Bats, and the last one was holed up in a recently condemned building, ecto-modified sniper rifle in hand, ready to fire.

Danny’s hands were cold.

He hadn’t always run cold, from what he remembered. Even after he died—hell, even after he started developing his ice powers—he had always been warm.

Now, though, his body was freezing.

Maybe it was because of the ecto siphoning he and Derringer had done the day before.

He couldn’t make the ecto guns work without fueling them, after all, and the only ectoplasm he had access to was the stuff inside his body. So, he had Derringer hook him up to a GiW machine and filter the ecto out of his blood.

The process was excruciating.

Not only did he get light-headed from the loss of fluids, the machine also chilled his blood considerably during the filtering process, and when it was pumped back into his body, it was freezing. Derringer had to cover him with heating pads and thick blankets to get him to stop shaking.

Still, that had been a little over eighteen hours ago, so that probably wasn’t it.

Maybe it was just another side affect of his time with the GiW.

Overuse of his ghostly wail, he had realized earlier, was the reason that he had lost his voice permanently. Maybe he had accidentally used his ice too many times the same way, and now his body was irrevocably changed. Maybe warmth was just another tiny privilege he had taken for granted, that had now been lost forever.

Danny stared down at his hands.

Maybe his body had just given up entirely on keeping him warm, on pretending to be human.

“Kid, you alright? We’re almost there.”

Derringer’s voice snapped Danny out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Danny signed, “just tired. And cold.”

“We’ve got to get you a jacket, kid,” Derringer said, “it’s not even winter and I already have to worry about you freezing to death.”

“I died a long time ago, it’s fine.”

“No,” one of the other men in the truck drawled, “it means you’ve got to be extra careful. You’ve got a second chance at living, so you better not screw it up.”

“What did he say?”

“Danny thinks that because he’s died before, he doesn’t need to worry about freezing to death.”

The truck went quiet for a few moments. Most of the guys in there didn’t know he had died before. He didn’t exactly like to advertise the fact.

“I have a cousin who had a heart attack, and it only made his heart worse,” one of the guys near the front of the truck offered.

“See, kid?” Derringer said, “I’m right. As soon as this is over, you’re getting a jacket.”

Danny crossed his arms, slumping over in his seat with a huff.

A few moments later, a loud clang echoed through the truck. Danny jolted, almost falling out of his seat.

The door opened, the driver looking at them with boredom written all over his face.

“Alright, up and at em. It’s go time,” he mumbled, smacking the door loudly for emphasis. “The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can leave.”

They all stood, hopping out of the truck and making their way to the fence line.

Danny moved his hand to the bandolier on his chest, fingers brushing against the small ecto-bombs he had attached to it.

There were five of them, their bodies made of tempered glass and black steel, and they glowed a sickly green in the night. They were designed mainly for combat; he had a few larger ones meant to blow a hole in a wall in his backpack, which was securely zipped shut.

His hand then drifted to the holster on his left side, and the ecto-gun nestled securely within it.

Most of his parents’ inventions were far too big and bulky to be practical in any real combat setting, so he had downsized them considerably. The weapon he had was modeled after a standard glock pistol, matte black paint covering the GiW white of the gun’s body.

The gun should be able to fire around fifty shots a minute without overheating, which was more than enough for Danny. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to fire a single round tonight. However, for whatever reason, the words should and hopefully didn’t inspire much confidence in him.

Danny followed the group as they snuck up to the facility, Derringer by his side.

Originally, neither of them were going to go on the raid, but someone on the patient list had caught Danny’s eye, so he decided he would investigate in person. Derringer was just along for the ride because Mr. Cobblepot wasn’t willing to lose an asset as valuable as Danny.

Danny would make it up to the bodyguard later, he decided.

Entering Arkham was, all things considered, pretty easy. Mr. Cobblepot had connections to a few of the orderlies, and it was all too easy to convince them to “forget” a few steps in setting up the security system for the night.

However, since nothing can ever just be simple, they ran into an unexpected patrol of nightshift guards just a few minutes after all splitting up to find the rogues.

Danny and Derringer were able to take them down pretty quickly, but not before they sounded the alarms. And, according to a few guys on the comms, they weren’t the only ones to run into guards where they shouldn’t be.

“They must have changed their patrols,” Derringer huffed, spinning the pistol in his hands, “c’mon, let’s go see about freeing our good friend Victor Fries.”

Danny nodded, scampering after the man as he sprinted through the halls.

The inmates, who had woken up from the loud alarm’s continuous blaring, shouted at them from their cells. Danny’s pulse was loud in his ears, drowning everything out.

Distantly, he wondered if those guards were going to die. Maybe they were dead already.

He supposed that it didn’t really change much if they were.

Soon, they were at the cell. It was custom-built to hold Mr. Freeze, constantly kept at subzero temperatures to avoid killing him.

Derringer hefted his bag off of his back, pulling out the suit and freeze gun that Mr. Cobblepot had procured. As he did so, Danny took a few of the larger ecto-bombs and placed them on the joints of the door.

They carefully moved away, putting some distance between themselves and the door, and Danny detonated it.

The explosion was loud. It shook the entire building, the shockwave knocking Danny to the floor.

Danny brought his hand up to his safety goggles, yanking a small piece of metal shrapnel out of them and dropping it on the floor. He was dimly aware of more pieces sticking out of his kevlar suit. Derringer was similarly peppered with metal, luckily uninjured as well.

They had come from the body and mechanism of the bomb, he realized. He’d have to fix that later.

Mr. Freeze emerged from the cell a few moments later, a scowl on his face. Derringer quickly shoved the suit and freeze gun into his hands and he retreated back into the cell for a few moments, getting dressed.

“I could have died from that, you know,” he hissed. “Killed by some amateurs with shoddy explosives.”

“The Penguin sent us,” Derringer said, ignoring the man’s clear annoyance, “our getaway car is outside. If you’d come with us…”

Mr. Freeze nodded sternly.

“Hurry up, then.”

Derringer and Danny hurried out, Mr. Freeze right behind them. Then, at a certain hallway, Danny paused.

He had to check.

“Kid,” Derringer barked, “we have to go.”

Danny shook his head.

“You go,” he signed, hands trembling, “I have to check.”

“Oh, what’s the problem now?” Mr. Freeze asked, his frown more pronounced by the minute.

“Danny…” Derringer sighed, “Danny thinks his sister might be in here. He hasn’t seen her in years. It’s the whole reason he was a part of the Arkham raid, actually.”

Mr. Freeze paused for a moment.

“Well, lead the way, then,” he said, clearly regretting his words as soon as he said them. Danny just nodded, scurrying forward, the other two men close behind him.

They came to the right cell quickly. Danny looked in through the glass, and he felt a piece of himself shatter.

That was Jazz, his sister, sitting in a padded wall wearing a straightjacket and a muzzle.

She didn’t bother looking up at them as they arrived, not stirring even when Danny slammed his hands on the door to get her attention.

Shakily, he attached an ecto-bomb to the door, hoping with all his might that she wouldn’t get hurt.

The door blew open, and Danny rushed in.

Jazz’s head swiveled to look up at him, her eyes narrowed.

He slipped the goggles up and his bandanna down, exposing his face as he came to kneel beside her.

Slowly, her expression shifted to shock.

“Jazz,” he creaked, his broken vocal chords cracking painfully as he spoke, “it’s me.”

She looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Danny?”

He nodded, pulling her into a hug, careful not to let the shrapnel dig into her skin.

“I thought you were…”

“Very heartwarming,” Mr. Freeze snapped, “but now isn’t the time. We’ve got to go, now.”

Jazz nodded, leaping to her feet. Danny stood as well, slipping his mask and bandanna back on, and grabbing onto one of her arms for support.

They left the cell, Danny doing a double-take as he saw the frozen-over pathway that they had just come from. He looked to Mr. Freeze, tilting his head questioningly.

“There were guards,” he said flatly. “Now hurry up, we need to get out of here.”

Derringer grabbed the two of them, dragging them along as he sprinted through the hallways. They had to take a bit of a detour, coming out of the main entrance instead of the side one they had entered.

Unfortunately, there was an active gunfight going down.

Danny was roughly pulled behind a desk, just barely dodging a few rounds.

His hands shook as he pulled a small ecto-bomb from his bandolier, priming it and throwing it at a small grouping of night guards. They cried out as the pure ectoplasm collided with them, covering their bodies in burns.

The smell, while familiar to Danny, was still horrific.

They took a few shots off at the night guards, trying to take them down. Their group was efficient, but with the rate they were going at, it wasn’t going to be enough. Only adding to that, the gun Mr. Cobblepot had prepared for Mr. Freeze had broken after just a few uses, leaving them unable to create an ice wall.

Then, Danny heard the sound of a gun’s safety being turned off behind them, and his vision went white.

He grabbed onto Jazz and Derringer, making them intangible right as the night guard opened fire.

Waves of nausea hit him all at once and he doubled over, his vision swimming. Danny was only dimly aware of Jazz taking the guard down with a high kick right to the head, and Derringer pulling him into a protective hold.

Ignoring everything, he pulled the last of the large bombs from his bag, throwing it into the air, pulling everyone behind the desk.

The entire room went white.

Danny’s ears rung as he scrambled out from behind the reception desk, dragging Jazz with him.

Luckily, none of the hired hands on his team had gotten injured, but the guards…

Danny looked away, trying to ignore the taste of bile in his mouth.

It was fine. He was fine. Everything would be okay.

The next few minutes were a blur. He knew that he had puked only a few seconds after they had left the building, and that Derringer had picked him up afterwards, carrying him to the truck with Mr. Freeze and Jazz in tow.

Danny’s entire body was wracked with tremors, an unbearable phantom pain passing through the still-healing surgical wounds in his head and torso like lightning. He dry-heaved, shivering uncontrollably.

They drove off soon after. Luckily, no one had been left behind. Someone, probably Derringer, helped Danny rinse out his mouth and got him a bottle of water to drink, wrapping him in his jacket.

As soon as the truck doors were opened within one of Mr. Cobblepot’s safehouses, Danny became aware of the sound of wailing.

Hopping out of the truck, most of his mind still far away, he saw a man being rolled out of the room on a stretcher. He was one of the people who had been on the other truck, Danny realized.

Beside him was a teenager, probably only a few years younger than Danny, who was screaming and crying uncontrollably. They wailed at Mr. Cobblepot, who only stood there with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

“Oh shit,” Derringer breathed. Danny pulled on his sleeve, tilting his head at him questioningly.

“The guy on the stretcher, that’s his sibling.”

Danny just stared, a hollow feeling deep in his chest.

Jazz, her arms now freed from the straightjacket, pulled him away from the scene. Danny let her.

—

[nyx-xp]

ok look no matter what, i think ill always be obsessed with dl-6. i know, its kinda overused at this point, but the whole thing is so amazing

like,, miles obviously didn’t know he was innocent, but gregory didnt either. when they channeled him he said it was the bailiff (forgot his name srry) even though there was no proof, because he wanted to protect his son. and the result of a child convinced he is guilty for the death of his dad, who even after death tried to find a way to reassure him he was innocent??? just- the concept of this relationship is fascinating, and honestly has so much potential.

and then you add von karma, and the fact he was not only the murderer of the father but the adopter of the son??? just makes everything gets better (worse)

dl-6 will forever live in my head and in my heart bcs the overwhelming guilt at least two of the three must have felt!! (depends on your headcannons about manfred ofc, maybe he was slightly guilty or smth) the psychological impact and the aftermath of it? amazing. maybe its not perfectly written, nothing is, but its fascinating and makes me want to dissect all three’s brains to see the effects this would have caused.

[kyalico]

I remember how your hands felt on mine

☆ : hai guys this is my first tumblr post (idk how to use this app) english isnt my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes n my overuse of commas :’) was originally gonna be a nanami oneshot but i switched it in the middle of writing

characters: toji fushiguro (jjk) x gn!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, reader’s kinda an ass but so is toji, reader’s in denial half of the time ngl, rushed, not proofread :(

author’s note: its slightly inspired by i remember how your hands felt on mine by Wisp bc i luv that song <3 go stream!!

word count: 1.2k (short bc i wrote it in an hour and its time to sleep)

the cold air gently brushed on your delicate skin, whispering soft hums into your ear. your feet kicked back and forth above the gloomy water, your reflection barely visible from the cloudy specks floating above the surface.

his raspy voice ringing in your head every time the cool wind breathes onto you.

“i’ll love you forever and always, okay? don’t forget that, honey,” is what he would remind you of no matter the day or situation.

the stupid promises were repetitive to say the least, but you couldn’t help but reminisce the days where he gently held you against his firm arms, cooing nothing but delightful words that sounded melodic.

you had known toji for years. from freshman year of high school to now, adulthood. adulthood was definitely one of the most terrifying things to ever exist, but toji would always be there by your side no matter what. he went through hell and back if it meant seeing your smile that imitated a ray of sunshine for just a split second, and not once did he feel an ounce of regret for it.

the first interaction felt as if it came fresh out of a corny romance movie. looking back on it, you realize how unusual you used to act, yet toji never minded. in fact he loved how much you would rant on and on about something silly you’ve suddenly started to hyper fixate over or how much you absolutely despised chemistry. whatever it was, he adored it. he adored you.

now, what did go wrong in your relationship? was it the fact that you felt that he wasn’t emotionally mature enough or was it the fact that he thought you were never direct about how you felt about him? nobody knew the answer but you wish you did. he wishes he did.

“what the fuck? why would you just pour all of that onto me all at once? didn’t even give me some time to process, damn.” a condescending tone and a rough hand covering his face, he was insanely frustrated with you. you never meant for it to escalate, but it wasn’t really your fault he couldn’t handle this, right?

“it’s not my fault you’re never aware about how i feel,” you retorted, a frown on your face which was unusual knowing the fact you never frowned. seeing the way the corners of your lips turned down made toji uncomfortable.

“how am i supposed to know if you won’t give me shit? you lock yourself away in hopes of me getting the idea about how you feel.” toji groaned. it was getting harder to contain himself, but it was definitely frustrating that you were acting this way. you almost never did, and that’s what was so off about the situation.

“maybe read the room better? it’s not my fault you’re so fucking dense all of the time for no reason. it’s almost like you’d choose money over me.” you sneered as your body felt like it was burning up, temperature quickly rising as you struggled to keep yourself together. “i bet you spend all of that money on your side chicks, hm?” it was completely out of anger and you were basically speaking on autopilot at this point. it was hard to figure out what to say especially in the heat of the moment.

however, toji was infuriated at this point, unable to concentrate as he basically stared you down. his fists clenched, dull nails digging into his calloused hands with his knuckles turning snowy white. “the fuck? why the fuck would you say that? you’re actually so immature. i don’t know why you would think that in the first place, but maybe you’re right.” he scoffed, an unamused look on his face. “it’d be crazy if i just admitted i had a side chick or two, huh?”

“what?” it took you a while to fully process all of that, and it wasn’t great at all. “did you just admit to fucking other girls? holy shit, you’re a fucking whore!” you cried out, hand raising as it came in harsh contact with his cheek.

a red sting stained the feeling of his cheek, his eyes widening as he realized what came out of his mouth and it was stupid.

“wait, darling no.” he gently grabbed up by the shoulders, noticing the way your eyes glistened up. “sweetheart, it was just in the moment. i swear i didn’t mean it and i would never cheat on you.” he spoke rapidly in hopes of you believing whatever bullshit came out of his mouth.

a voice interrupted the continuation of your thoughts, the feeling of the wind once brushing against your skin. you didn't even realize the puny tear falling from your eye, sliding down your cheek.

you quickly wipe it away, warily turning around to locate the familiar voice hidden by the whispers of the wind. it was him, wasn’t it? you were unsure whether or not you wanted to see him in this very moment as uninvited memories swam back.

you felt the weight of a large hand covering your shoulder, its thumb gently caressing your skin. “hey, what’re you doing here?” toji spoke softly yet loud enough to penetrate the sound of the wind.

“nothing. what about you, why are you here?” you mumble, responding with a hint of hesitation present in your voice.

“missed you, that’s all.” he gently pecked your cheek without a request and he knows he doesn’t have to ask for permission from you. you’d allow it anytime.

“liar, don’t even.” you slowly pulled away, looking back down at the murky waters. “your ass cheated on me, i dont want you back.” huffing, the wind exposing your features that he absolutely loved.

he squished your cheek gently. “already told ya, i never did and will never want to.” he planted another kiss on your body, except this was on the top of your head.

“your ass admitted it, didn’t you? that’s why we broke up, you slut.” you sighed. you didn’t want to talk about any of this but he was definitely willing to after messing up horribly.

“no, baby, no.” toji sat next to you on the bench, grabbing your hand in his. “i know you won’t believe me, but it was all in the heat of the moment.”

“i genuinely didn’t mean to hurt you at all, please know that. i love you so much and saying those things was the biggest regret and mistake i’ve ever made in my life, and i hate making mistakes especially when it comes to you.” he confessed and you couldn’t lie, you wanted to believe it. and you did.

you noticed the sincerity in his voice, the look of love in his eyes. eyes that were meant for you and only you.

you would’ve never expected for him to own up to his mistakes, but you needed to as well. he wasn’t all at fault, especially when you instigated the argument in the beginning. pride was swallowing you whole, and you didn’t want to ruin the moment at all.

you let it swallow you but also let the warmth of his body engulf you. you missed this. you missed him.

“it’s okay, hun. i forgive you.” you spoke gently, forgiveness was all toji needed. he didn’t even care for the fact that you were at fault. all that mattered was you. just you.

you’ll apologize soon, but you needed him right now. not even the frosty wind and the aroma of seawater could ruin this moment.

☆ rlly rushed ending so sorry!! ill do better :’(

[modetta-no-hope]

[Towards the Lost Lamb]

Happy birthday, Natsume!!! I spent forever thinking about what to draw for him, and after going through a million cursed ideas (lmao), this is probably the least cursed one I could come up with!

This piece was actually inspired by a love letter I wrote a while back, but looking at it now, I’m pretty sure I wrote it while I was high on MAMIYA. Posting the drawing alongside the letter just feels way too fitting, haha.

Below is the content of the letter (with some parts omitted because they’re meant only for the recipient). I’ve also translated it into English since there’s no way I’m letting anyone else see the original. It might not flow as smoothly as it does in my native language, but I hope you don't mind!

Love.

The love I hold for you and all its shades.

Have you ever wondered what those shades are like? What form they takes, what scent they carry, what sound they sing? What it’s like to touch them, to cradle them within your palms?

No beginning to trace, no end in sight— That is the love I have for you.

I remember someone once said, “love” is an overused word. Some even liken it to a fire—blazing bright, yet destined to wither into ash. Perhaps they weren't wrong, But I still adore it— “Love” is such a beautiful word, don't you agree?

We hold that love close, Make it our own, Even as we delude ourselves, Foolishly believing that "love" was always meant for something else.

They say love is fleeting, selfish, blind, Detached from reality. Yet even in its selfishness, Isn’t there beauty? A beauty steeped in selfishness, Do you see it that way too?

I've always thought that, in truth, to "love" is to "be loved." Not by the object of your affection, But by love itself.

I’ve always yearned for a love as gentle as water, Perhaps that's why I falter before gentleness. And, well, isn’t it said— “Eventually, you’ll become what you desire most”? So, in that way, perhaps— Love has always answered me back in kind.

“Gentleness” is a cruel word, And “love” a selfish one. You are cruel. And I’ve long since become cruel myself, haven’t I?

You—to me—are a long scarf. Long, so long, endlessly winding. Tight around my throat, shrouding my eyes, binding my hands, Making me a frog unwilling to leave the boiling pot's searing heat.

A scarf so long. A warm embrace, a shielding blanket, a tightening noose. That’s "you"—that’s my "love".

A warm embrace. I give it back to you. A shielding blanket. I’ll give it back to you. A tightening noose. I give it all back to you.

My existence is a love letter—a letter pieced together from countless fragments of love. Its traces linger in every dot, every comma, every sentence, even in each rise and fall of the tone.

I’ll give this love back to you; I’ll curse you for a while. I love you.

No beginning to trace, no end in sight— I cannot say when it sparked, Only that, at some point, "You" eclipsed almost my entire world.

Isn’t that cruel? But yes, it is what it is.

This letter is like a river, Unceasing. No beginning to trace, no end in sight.

“Even as you're being born, screaming, loving, struggling, or breaking apart; the river flows on and on.”

“Never resisting the flow of the water, I let my nerves get eroded. I'd been repeating this for so, so long. Like in a delirium. As if nothing had happened.”

“...I can't say I like it. It's so black, and very noisy when it rains. But I know it well. I know it well because I don't like it. ...That's just how it is.”

On the verge of suffocating. On the verge of exploding. On the verge of shattering into a maelstrom. On the verge of flooding the world with thousands venomous curses.

I want to kill you.

[nentenkoneko]

I am of the belief that Tiger likes to feed stray cats, so he accidentally ends up a stray cat army that will protect him from a mugger who tries to steal from him. This can also be the writing prompt, hehe

Such a cute idea! I had a lot of fun trying to mold it into something that kinda resembles a story, even if it turned into more of a group of small slice-of-life moments rather than focusing entirely on just the prompt itself (curse me and my love for banter between characters). Thanks for the suggestion :)

And you’re totally right, by the way. Tiger would 10000% casually have a mini army of cats.

Word count: ~5000 Main 'tags' I'd use to describe this: Fluff, slice-of-life, humour, and cats. Lots of cats. Other characters come and go but the cats are forever. Cats for life.

—

“-and this lil guy is Tachio.” He scooped up the large, mottled brown cat into his arms. Tachio settled with little fuss, as he always did, his big furry head coming to rest against the fabric of Tiger’s hoodie, eyes already beginning to close sleepily. “I called him that ‘cause I was eating pistachios when I first met him.”

“Wow.” Joe snickered. Not mean, or biting. A teasing, friendly tone. “Great naming skills you have there, Ti.”

“Better than some other cat names I’ve heard.” He scoffed, “I mean, what was it you called your childhood cat again? Mittens?”

Joe mock-gasped. “You leave Mittens out of this you heathen.”

“Mittens has to be one of– no, the most overused name for cats.” He continued, settling himself down onto the floor, Tachio still in his arms, dead asleep. The concrete was cold beneath him, but not uncomfortably so. He grinned up at Joe, “It’s kinda like how everyone calls their dog ‘Buddy��, or ‘Max’. It’s so boring.”

“Hey now, cut me some slack–” Joe whined, even as his face cracked into a smile. He followed suit, lowering himself down to sit beside Tiger, narrowly missing sitting atop Dalgona, an old, cream-coloured tabby. She darted away with a grumpy huff, disappearing behind one of the nearby dumpsters. “I was like, five,” He added with a roll of his eyes, “it was the best I could come up with.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

A loud, obtrusive “mreow” had Tiger glancing upwards. Bright, sharp, golden-yellow eyes blinked back at him. He chuckled, “See? Rye agrees with me.”

“Rye.” Joe echoed, “Like… Like rye bread?”

“I like to name a lot of them after different foods I like.” He pointed up to a balcony high above them, where a lone cat lay, sprawled out on her side. She was basking in a small, rare patch of sunlight that had crept past the high walls of the surrounding buildings. Her fur, usually a dull, muddy-brown, was shimmering under its rays. “That’s her up there.”

“Very cute and all, but we need to go back to the name, brother-” Joe made a weird, scrunched-up face, “-Rye? Is rye bread seriously your favourite kind of bread? Really? Not, like, brioche or literally anything else?”

Now it was his turn to make a face, “I thought brioche was a pastry.”

“No, it’s…” Joe paused, then frowned the more he thought about it, “Maybe…? Ugh.” He waved a hand, “Besides the point, okay? Rye is disgusting.”

“Meow.”

He couldn’t help but snort. “I think she took that personally.”

“I could tell.” He shook his head with a mock-sigh, “Getting back on track– are we feeding them or not? That’s what we came to do, right? Feed your little mini army?”

A mini army? As if. “I was waiting for you to finish bashing my naming choices first.”

“Still gonna continue bashing them, ‘cause that shit’s nasty.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Carefully, Tiger slid Tachio out from his arms, letting the cat lazily flop down across his lap, his furred chin resting against one of his thighs. He napped on, oblivious.

Now, with his hands free, he could reach for the bag he’d brought along with him. The sharp sound of the zipper immediately caught the attention of the cats lurking in the shadows around them. Bright, eager eyes popped out from the darkness. He grinned. 

“They’re like little ninjas.” Joe muttered quietly, his own eyes wide, “I didn’t realise there were that many. I counted like, seven, not seventeen.”

“There’s usually more, honestly. Quiet night.” He busied himself with rummaging through the bag, pulling out two plastic containers, filled to the brim with chunks of fresh chicken and fish. “Here–” He tossed one towards Joe, who fumbled to catch it. “If you wanna make any friends, you’re gonna need that.” 

“I thought they were friendly…” He glanced between the container and the manifested crowd of hungry cats, “You said they were friendly.”

“Friendly with me, yeah.” He laughed, “They don’t know you, you gotta earn their trust.”

“I’m gonna get bit.”

“We’ll start you off easy.” He promised, already scanning the crowd of cats, gaze landing on a familiar speckled figure.  “Tutorial round, yeah? I think I can see Pepper– on your left. He’s probably the friendliest here.”

Joe squinted. “Pepper..?”

“Yeah. Black fur, little white specks. Kind of like ground pepper?” He shrugged, “He’s a big baby. A little shy, but he’s not mean.”

Joe shook his head with a quiet laugh, “You’re seriously running a whole grocery store out here.”

"Hey now, I branch out." He giggled, “There’s maybe like, three of ‘em who aren’t named after food. I let Miko name those ones.”

"You dragged Miko into this?”

“Only sometimes, when I’m bored.” He hummed, cracking open his container of food. The quiet crowd became loud with excited, hungry meows, the cats gaining more confidence now that they could outright smell the food. “I like annoying him. Like I like annoying you.”

“As much as it pains me to say this, you don’t annoy me at all.” Joe chuckled, opening his own container in tow. Pepper poked his head out further than the other cats, beginning to slink over, towards Joe, just as he’d hoped. “You just make me question my sanity sometimes. Like why I agreed to come sit on the floor of some shady alleyway on a Thursday night to feed cats.”

“You enjoy it, deep down.” Tiger gestured to Pepper, still slowly padding closer, sniffing the air curiously. “He likes chicken more than fish. Hold some out for him and he should come right up to you.”

Joe scooped out some chicken from the mix, his nose wrinkling in mild disgust at the jelly-like texture. "If he claws my face off, you’re paying my hospital bill,"

"Deal.”

As expected, he didn’t get his face torn off. Instead, Pepper, after a few more cautious steps, simply bit the bullet, waltzing right up to Joe before snagging the piece of chicken from his outstretched hand, gulping it down in a flash. As soon as he’d swallowed it, he immediately began nudging at his now empty palm, meowing incessantly for more.

Joe looked up with a broad, almost childlike grin, "See?” He puffed out his chest, “Natural-born cat whisperer right here."

Tiger chuckled, throwing a piece of fish out from his own container. "Not bad for a guy who named his cat Mittens."

Joe mock-scowled, but he couldn’t quite hide the smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as he fished out another piece, watching as Pepper took it eagerly, purring all the while.

—

“I need your help.”

“You know it’s, like, nine PM over here right now, right?” Miko yawned loudly on the other end of the screen. The angle of his camera was tilted slightly, his face half-buried underneath what looked like the many thick, cozy blankets he knew Miko kept on his bed at all times. “I’m about to go to sleep.”

He waved a hand dismissively, “You being an old man and going to bed early isn’t my problem.”

“Well then what is your problem, exactly?”

He darted out of frame, returning moments later with a little, squirming, white-furred kitten. Holding her out towards the camera, he waited for the lens to focus so Miko could get a better look before speaking, “–what should I name this one?”

Miko pulled a face almost instantly, “Seriously? I thought you only fed the strays, now you’re full-on adopting them?”

“I’m not– I don’t usually.” He huffed, “These guys are a litter from one of the cats I was feeding. She trusted me enough to show me her kittens.” Adjusting his grip as the kitten tried to claw her way up his arm, he added, “And I’m not keeping them, for the record, just housing them until they’re fully weaned, then they’ll be off to new homes. Their mom’s here too. I’m getting her spayed as soon as I can. She’s not happy being inside, though.” He chuckled, “So I doubt she’ll be heading off to a new home herself.” Detaching the tiny claws that had wormed their way through the fabric of his shirt, Tiger brought the kitten back out towards the camera, “But they deserve names in the meantime! C’mon, help me out here.”

“I should’ve never answered your call.” Miko muttered, staring at the kitten intently for a moment before sighing, “..how about Snowball?”

“I’ll take it.” He grinned, “Thanks for the contribution, Anija.”

Miko shook his head with a laugh, “I can’t believe I still put up with you. I’m not paid to like you anymore, you know.”

“You know you love me, pay or no pay.” Tiger couldn’t help but sing-song, gently putting Snowball down, watching as she waddled back towards her siblings. He reached down into the pile, plucking up another kitten. A lanky, bony little thing, which let out an undignified squawk, flailing around in his arms like a fish out of water, “What about this one–?”

Miko leaned in closer, squinting at the screen. “He looks like he’s got about three brain cells.”

He reached for a nearby tube of cat food. The kitten, upon spotting the treasured item, settled almost instantly, mouth snapping open, waiting. His bright little eyes stared in rapt attention all the while. He barked out a laugh, “He definitely does.”

“You like food names, right? What’s that American food called again?” Miko tapped his chin idly, brow furrowed in thought, “The one with the funny name?”

“There’s a lot of American food with funny names.” He snorted, wiping the kitten’s fur as he gulped down the food, flecks of chicken-paste going just about everywhere. “Like this thing Bo was telling me about the other day- a sloppy joe? It sounded disgusting.”

“I got it-” He clicked his fingers, “Spam. That’s that canned meat block thing, right? Spam?”

“Oh, yeah, spam.” He hummed, "Blok loves that stuff.”

“Yeah, well, that cat looks like that stuff.”

He chuckled. The kitten really didn’t, all things considered, being a greyish white like his sister, but the food-paste had dyed his whiskers a pinkish, flesh-like hue. “He does now he’s all covered in meat goo.”

“Spam. Take it or leave it.” Miko yawned, “‘Cause I’m too tired to come up with anything else.”

He kissed the kitten atop his furry little head, making sure to avoid the gross gooey spots. “Spam it is, then.”

—

“Yeah, yeah. Hello to you too.”

Tiger barely made it three steps into the alley before his oh-so-familiar welcoming party descended. 

Without Joe here, or any other person he might’ve forcibly dragged along, the cats were much more open. More willing to come out at just the scent of him alone. Just turning into the alleyway itself was enough to receive an audience of eyes on him. Cats appearing left and right from high ledges, or peering out from beneath dumpsters and wooden crates. 

There were his usual few who always came right up to greet him Rye, Saffron, Tachio– and Pepper too, of course, ever the gentle, welcoming sweetheart.

Unlike one of his other more regular cats. Sushi, a white-and-cream cat who had the patience of a toddler, had leaped out from one of the higher perches in the alleyway, latching onto his leg as he walked with an abrupt meow. Her claws dug deep into the fabric of his joggers, prickling at the skin underneath as she began to climb, meowing all the while.

“Alright, alright!” He couldn’t help but laugh, wiggling in a feeble attempt to get her off. She clung tight, though. He should’ve called her barnacle or something… Maybe parasite? That seemed more fitting. “Gimme a second, Sushi– geez,” 

Once he’d gotten a bit further into the alleyway (and Sushi had gotten further up his body, now clung to his hip) he put down his sports bag, his now free hands instantly moving to pluck the cat from his clothes. She purred, her rough tongue licking at his hands as he swiftly deposited her back onto the ground where she belonged, before moving back for his bag. He’d shoved some food in here somewhere…

A flurry of meows had him groan, even as he grinned. A hoard seemed to form around his bag, cats eagerly jostling against one another as they tried to practically merge with him as he unzipped the bag, pulling out the food (and quickly shooing away the more curious cats, who had instead focused on attempting to drag his sports gear out from the bag, rather than the food). He zipped the bag back up quickly– he’d be damned if he lost another shoe or sock to one of these furry thieves.

The food itself wasn’t anything amazing this time- usually he brought chicken, or fish. Something he knew the cats would appreciate over basic kibble, but he hadn’t had a chance to stock up on wet foods yet, as of this week, so kibble would have to do. Not that it seemed to bother the cats, who swarmed the floor as he spilt the kibble onto it, the sound of tiny teeth crunching and snapping quickly echoing around him.

Now that everyone seemed settled, he allowed himself to sit down fully onto the concrete floor, Rye quickly moving to secure his lap, stretching out along his legs with a scruffy purr. He rubbed at the back of her ears fondly.

Crap, his shirt was covered in fur. Caked in it, even; it was hard to tell what the beginning colours had even been at this rate. He hadn’t brought a damn lint roller this time either… 

Oh well. 

He breathed, exhaling tiredly. Pepper bumped his head against his leg, as if sympathetic. It only served to cover him in more fur. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, reaching out to pet the gentle tomcat. “Thank you, Pep.”

One of the cats Miko had named many months ago also bumped against him, reaching her body up to rest her paws against his shoulder, leaning forward to sniff his ear curiously. Her nose was cold and wet as it pressed close. He had to stop himself from outright flinching at the random protrusion. “And… Thank you, Haru… I guess.”

Haru meowed… Right down his ear. That he had to flinch away from. Haru let out a strange hmprh sound as she was dislodged, slinking back to the ground. She turned away almost instantly, back towards the kibble, and continued to graze on it as if nothing happened.

Tachio, who had been somewhat nearby, batted a paw at her as she went. He missed entirely, by miles, even, but at least the thought was there.

Tiger couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the scene.

“Anyway, this was only supposed to be a short trip,” He spoke aloud to himself, checking the time on his phone as he did so. “Five more minutes then I gotta book it, otherwise I’ll be late to practise.” He scrunched his face at the mere thought, “Last time I was Coach made me run ten laps around the pitch. That sucked.”

A few cats looked up at his words, chirping back, as if protesting. Others bumped up even closer to him, meowing and purring. He couldn’t help but smile at the attempts. They wouldn’t work on him.

Until five minutes turned into ten. 

Then fifteen. 

Then twenty.

Oh he was so screwed…

—

He ended up running twenty-seven laps around the pitch this time. Each representing a minute he was late by. A new record, honestly. For both how late he was and how much he’d run. Fun times.

“Hey, Tiger?”

Tiger grabbed at his water bottle, bringing it up to his lips to take a quick sip, “Yeah, Joe?”

“I just realised I forgot to ask, so, well–” He sounded sheepish as he slumped down nearby onto one of the changing room’s many benches. “How’s Pepper doing?”

“Don’t tell me he’s looped you into the whole cat-thing too.” North groaned from across the room, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he made his way towards the showers. He couldn’t help but laugh at the grumpily-fond look North threw his way. “This is turning into some sort of cult, Tiger, I swear.”

“How’d you even know what I was talking about?” Joe chuckled, his confusion ebbing away the more he thought about it. “Wait, don’t tell me-”

“You aren’t the first, Joe.” North snorted. “And I bet you won’t be the last, either. He’s dragging all of us in by the second. I mean, I was only there a few days ago for like the third time. Not to mention Rasta’s been helping him out for months.”

Rasta blinked at the mention of his name, glancing up from his phone, confused, “Hm?”

“He’s talking about the ‘cat cult’.” Joe quoted with his fingers, “Am I seriously the last to meet the family? I’m offended, Ti’.”

“Not the last, amigo.” El Matador called out smugly from his locker, adjusting his hair in the mirror he kept on the inside of the door, brushing the long black strands up into his typical ponytail. “But that’s because unlike you, I refuse to be dragged into some stinky dump and catch lice and whatever else those cretins carry. Absolutely not.”

Tiger couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Who said I even wanted you near them to begin with, El Matador? You might be carrying something yourself.”

“Even the mutts of the street want to meet me, Tiger.” He shot back, “And the only things I carry are Gucci, Prada, and Balenciaga. Things I’m sure those mutts have only ever dreamed of.” 

“Mutts are dogs, dude.” North sighed, pinching his brow, though the edges of his mouth quirked up into a faint, exasperated smile, “These are cats. Stray cats.”

“Strays don’t sound nearly as demeaning as it should.” El Matador huffed, “I’ll stick with mutts, thank you.”

— 

"Hi, Mrs. Liang!"

The little bell above the door chimed as Tiger slipped inside. The scent of the store hit him instantly, as it always did: dry hay, dusty plastic, and the heavy sweetness of something floral and powdery. It was familiar, and comforting. Like he’d walked right into his grandmother’s living room after a long day. 

Or a horse stable… Both ideas were nice, though, so he couldn’t really complain.

"Nǐ hǎo, Tiger," Came the usual elderly voice from behind the counter, warm and friendly. "Back so soon? I could've sworn you just left!”

He laughed, already halfway down an aisle, basket swinging from one hand as he scanned his options. "I practically live here, nǎinai. I thought you knew that by now."

"At this rate, I should be charging you rent.” She hummed, “Or at least letting you sleep in the back. I could make you a bed out of the bags of millet I have."

"Tch. If you start paying me in tuna cans and cat toys, maybe I’ll consider it." He poked his head out the end of the aisle, flashing her a grin. "I could be your on-call cat guy.”

“You already are.” Her face creased with a smile, “And I don’t have to pay you whatsoever.”

He ducked back behind the aisle with a huff, “I guess I’ll have to rein back in on how much I help out around here.”

“You’ll come crawling back.” She teased with a laugh, “You always do. You and your crazy obsession with those strays, I swear. I’m surprised they don’t follow you home.”

That made him chuckle, “Sometimes they do, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I had one sneak into practice once.” He grabbed a bag of kitten formula– he figured maybe it might be useful if any of the kittens needed some at any point. “She managed to crawl into North’s locker. Spooked him so bad when he opened it back up that he almost punched the locker door.”

Mrs. Liang let out an amused puff. “I’m sure he wasn’t too pleased with that.” Her face came into view once more as he finally finished up, wandering out from where he had hidden between the aisles, hoisting his now-full basket up onto the counter. Her eyes held a sort of parental sternness that made him duck his head in mock-shame, “And I’m sure neither was your Coach.”

“Yeah…” He laughed, “But it wasn’t my fault! I didn’t think one of them would hide in my bag.”

She gave a low, noncommittal hum, looking up from scanning the items to send a wink in his direction. “Sure, sure.”

“Gah.” He whined, making her giggle, “Stop judging me. I check my bag now before every practice.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, sending him another wink. He couldn’t help but giggle too “Whatever you say. Now. Back on the more important things– why don’t you go grab some more wet food? On me, of course. For the little ones, yes?”

"Ah ah ah, nǎinai." He wagged a finger at her, shaking his head fondly. "You know I make more than enough to pay for it. You’ve gotta stop giving me freebies."

“I’m not giving you freebies.” She argued halfheartedly, “They’re for the cats, unless you plan on eating them yourself.”

He pulled a face at that, “Now I’m definitely not grabbing more.”

She tutted, “You never let me spoil my grandchildren, lǎo Hǔ.”

He couldn’t help but snort, “They’re not my children. They’re more like… friends?”

“And I’m not your grandmother.” She pointed out with a teasing grin, “But yet here we are, and I want my grandbabies well fed. So go get the damn cans, young man–”

—

Night had begun creeping in by the time Tiger finally managed to save himself from Mrs. Liang’s ‘freebie argument’ and get himself out of the store. The sky was grey and clouded, heavy with rain; the only light coming from the yellow-bulbed streetlights leaning over the pathway as he walked.

Now that he’d escaped the calm wrath of his pseudo-grandmother, it was time to head home, get out of his training gear, and collapse onto his couch to watch some crappy TV with his little hoard of kittens. That sounded like heaven right now.

The walk home wasn’t too long, thankfully- if he took the back routes, that was. Luckily he knew these alleyways like the back of his hand, and while they weren’t too bright, lacking the lights the main streets had, they were bright enough to maneuver through with ease. And that lack of light meant a lack of people. 

Not that he was avoiding people, but sometimes even he preferred some quiet in his hectic life sometimes.

Especially after having spent all his energy bantering with Mrs. Liang. And from running laps around the pitch because he was just a few minutes late.

Not to mention also lugging his sports bag along, full to the brim with both his sports gear and the cat supplies he’d just purchased. Usually he’d bring regular bags, but having only been able to slip in last-minute because of practice getting in the way, he’d resorted to shoving the food in there, instead. So much easier to carry, slung over his shoulder. Not that it didn’t weigh a ton, though, because geez, it did. The thing was a whole workout to carry. His back wouldn’t be thanking him in the morning, that was for certain.

He turned the corner, shifting the weight of his bag slightly as he did so with a grunt.

And that’s when he noticed it. Footsteps. Somewhere behind him. Light, but with an obvious weight behind them. As if someone was trying to sneak, but lacked the frame to do so.

His gait quickened. There was no reason for him to look back– that’d only draw more attention. Walk forward, ignore. Simple– he wasn’t too far from his house, either. 

Besides, what were the chances this was an actual criminal? He wasn’t the only damn person walking around this time of day. He was getting anxious over nothing.

The footsteps grew quicker. “Hey.”

Okay, maybe he’d misspoken. He had far too much bad luck…

“Hey.” The stranger repeated, practically storming after him, “You know I’m talkin’ to you, dammit.”

A big, burly hand shot out, gripping the back of his jacket. He couldn’t help but try and squirm away, but the hand only tightened, a hot breath against his ear. “Fuckin stop.”

Tiger couldn’t help but grit his teeth, instantly stopping his movements. “What do you want?”

“Wallet, bag, the usual shit.” The guy sneered, “You never been mugged before or somethin? Wanderin around in these alleyways? You’re one lucky fella.”

“What can I say? The people I meet aren’t usually assholes.” He bit back. He found himself shoved into a wall for that comment. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Take it, man. There’s nothing of worth in it anyway.”

The stranger’s free hand dragged his bag’s strap over his head, letting the bag drop to the floor. “I’ll be the judge of that. Don’t think I don’t know who you are– you’ve gotta have some good shit in here somewhere.” The hand shoved him into the wall once more, his head bouncing off of the bricks. “Now stay there and don’t fuckin move. You look at me and I’ll kill you, got it?”

He kept his head pressed against the wall. His forehead was warm, and wet now, with what he assumed was blood. “Got it.”

Tiger couldn’t help but wince as he heard the zipper, followed by the sound of cans being haphazardly tossed out onto the concrete floor as the bag was looted. Hopefully they wouldn’t break, it’d be a shame to waste the food. “You some sort of cat-fanatic or somethin?”

“Something like that.”

The carton of formula he’d bought just moments ago hit the ground, a slosh of milk exploding out from the now broken seal. Oh come on. “There’s jack shit here.”

“I told you that.”

The hand was back now, against his jacket, the hot breath back, pressed to his ear. “You got that stupid charm on you that you always carry around?”

His heart lurched at the mere mention of his charm. His shoulders hunched instinctively. “That’s not worth shit either.”

The stranger’s hands moved upwards, towards his neck. “Liar.”

“I’m serious–”

“Mreow?”

Tiger could’ve almost laughed at how the pair of them instantly paused at the sound.

From his peripheral, he could see a little black blob, wandering down the middle of the alleyway. From some of the casted moonlight hitting the alley, he could just make out white speckles.

…Was that Pepper…?

Well this was awkward.

He bit his lip as a finger looped around the necklace his charm sat on, dragging it up so the charm was exposed from where he usually hid it behind his shirt. The stranger chuckled. “For someone who says otherwise, this shit looks mighty expensive.”

Pepper tottled closer, meowing again. He felt the stranger stop to look down at the cat, kicking a foot in Pepper’s direction. “Shoo!”

Pepper hissed, scrambling backwards slightly to avoid being hit.

…Before running and jumping right up onto the guy, claws and teeth fully bared.

“What the fuck-!?” The stranger screeched, letting go of Tiger  as he stumbled backwards, Pepper still hissing and yowling all the while.

Tiger took this opportunity to move, forcing himself away from the wall and spinning around to take in the view.

The man was huge, a big, bulky, tall guy, but he looked absolutely dwarfed with fear as Pepper clung to him, hissing and screeching and snapping, teeth and claws flying.

“Geez.” Was all he could say– because seriously? Was he actually seeing this right now?

He blinked as a few more eyes peered out from the darkness. No way. No way.

Rye, Tachio, Sushi, Haru– all of them were here, darting out from the darkness, looking just as pissed as Pepper did. They joined their fellow cat in what could only be described as a movie-esque battle scene, jumping atop of the stranger and beginning to claw and scratch at him as he cried and babbled, flinging one off only to have two attach themselves in their place. “Get them off of me–!! Please!”

“Uh.” Tiger’s voice couldn’t even begin to be louder than the current war-cry of his weird little cat army. He shrugged at the man, instead moving to sit himself down on the concrete below before he ended up falling down. That blow to the wall earlier clearly took its toll on him. “Sorry…?”

He blinked as a weight settled in his lap, looking downwards despite the nauseous feeling that overcame him as he did so. “Oh.” He grinned at the scruffy-looking, elderly cat curled in his lap. “Hey, Hotdog. I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”

The stranger continued screaming and yelling, beginning to now try and scramble up from where he’d collapsed against a nearby wall. He took off, sprinting down the alleyway, falling into dumpsters and trash as he went, a hoard of cats still clutched tightly to him, with others following suit, yowling and hissing as they ran.

Tiger figured he could sit here then. For a bit, just to regain himself a little. Seemed like his ‘friends’ had everything covered… If the echoes of the stranger’s screams still ringing out into the night meant anything.

Hotdog yawned, nuzzling up against him with a scratchy purr. He accepted the love happily.

—

*Slaps roof of car* This bad boy took me far too long but it was worth it.

[quantum27]

a lot of the mid 2000s (and even still today) post Shrek era of self aware fantasy films lack a crucial element of the Shrek universe and what makes that self awareness work. Now don't get me wrong I don't think every film that did this is bad. (For example, Happily N'Ever After is like technically a mid movie and does have some broken world building if you think about it too long, I think did this pretty well iirc)

What makes it work is that Not Everyone is Aware of Fairytale Tropes. For example the reason why Shrek is aware of them, is because he's shown to have actively read fairytales. Obviously we see this in the intro and the fact within his house he has a bookshelf. There's also some dialogue -

Donkey: Stairs? I thought we was lookin' for the Princess.

Shrek: The Princess will be up the stairs in the highest room in the tallest tower.

Donkey: How do you know that?

Shrek: I read it in a book once.

(Shrek )

Shrek, upon hearing the terms of the Happily Ever After potion:

Midnight, why is it always Midnight?

(Shrek 2)

In comparison, Donkey is NOT as aware of Fairytale Tropes. His experiences are usually all personal. This leads to him being surprised more often. Seemingly contrasted in the alternative timeline in Shrek: Forever After where Donkey is highly aware of the tropes in that timeline, while Shrek isn't. (Speaking of- Shrek doesn't know every single fairytale- not knowing who Rumpelstiltskin is allows him to be tricked.)

Puss on the other hand is super knowledgeable about the world around him and can point out the culture - likely due to his long term career as a thief, adventurer and assassin.

These varying levels of knowing fairytales and how they work isn't completely static between characters, instead varying.

Compare this to some of the other mid 2000 fairytale movies in which somehow, characters will be aware and mock tropes in the movies. Often more a fourth wall jab than anything else. Overuse of this leads to a weird fake feeling to the universe sometimes.

I just think this is a neat writing thing over all and another example of how Shrek as a movie series is able to have this world building feel clean. Similar to how you don't need to get its pop culture references to be funny. You don't need to know about the abundance of Starbucks everywhere to find the gag in the second movie of them running to another building across the street funny. That's another post entirely but yeah.

[newx-menfan]

Who is your favorite marvel comic villain that you wish would show up more? I personally think selene :)

I HATE Omega Red- never have been a fan and don’t understand his popularity.

I love Selene, but you really need a solid writer for…same with Mojo and Spiral…

Love Cassandra Nova and The Shadow King!

LOVE most versions of the Hellfire Club, except for Kade Kilgore and Co…

I like Belasco and wish they used him more!

I do enjoy the “Purifiers”, “Brotherhood of Humanity”, and “Reavers”… they fulfill pretty basic storylines.

Don’t care for Orphanmaker and Nanny, Trevor Fitzroy, or Fabian Cortez.

Apocalypse is okay- never been a major favorite.

I LOVE the Brood and whatever aliens were featured after “a Love Story” with Storm and Forge.

I actually really liked evil Rogue and the Brotherhood in general. (Mystique and Destiny are my hardcore favorite villains!)

Everyone loves Magneto- even though he’s overused.

Juggernaut is fine- not my favorite but his storylines are fine- his relationship with Black Tom is kind of what seals it for me.

I LOVE evil psychopathic Sabertooth…but the comics kind of ruined his character.

Never really got into Deathbird, D’Ken, or the Shi’ar- they’re fine but it’s not something I get excited for…

Everyone loves Mister Sinister- honestly I wish they would bring back Liu’s version of Miss Sinister because she was great.

Weirdly not a fan of Exodus, despite being a fan of telekinesis….

Lady Deathstrike is fine- again, not my favorite but I do enjoy her.

I DO miss evil Emma- I liked her heel change but they have never been able to find a character to fill that space ☹️

I do guiltily LOVE Empath… I know he’s creepy and problematic but he IS a great villain when written as a psychopath.

Kind of miss Mastermind- Regan isn’t as fun as the original.

Everyone LOVES Sauron!

I DO weirdly love Arcade and Miss Locke…but like Sabertooth, they kind of ruined the character by trying to “update” him and make him “cool” 😒

Love Emplate and wish he appeared more!

Silver Samurai is ALWAYS fun!

Miss evil Daken despite again, being problematic. Now Akihiro is just boring because writers don’t know what to do with him.

Kimura was fun but got old fast (wish KYOST had developed her more!)

Never cared for Bastion. Nimrod is fine but again kind of a “one trick pony”.

I do really like Bella Donna.

Trask and Cameron Hodge were fun.

Hate Danger- just never got into it.

Don’t like Sugarman. Dark Beast is okay.

I LOVE Fernis and wish they popped up more!

LOVE Madelyn!! One of the most complex villains created and I wish she showed up more!

Really liked Graydon (guess that fits in with FoH but…) and wish we saw more Sabertooth illegitimate kids (you just KNOW there’s more!)

Weirdly love Masque because it’s such a dark character!

Mesmero and Mikhail Rasputin were fun!

I really miss evil QQ (was better as a villain)

Honestly think Fantomex should have been a villain/ assassin!

Love S'ym and N'astirh!

Never got into Onslaught or Proteus.

Love Sat-Yr-9.

I think everyone liked Senator Kelly as a “normal villain”.

Like Dark Phoenix but it’s been used to Death!!

I really loved Sublime- I don’t know why…probably the scene where he calls out Emma’s nose job.

Pretty much EVERYONE hated Vargas, Romulus, and Vulcan…

Wendigos are always fun!

X-Cutioner was interesting.

Have always been pretty “meh” on Children of the Vault.

Villain’s that I wish would show up more:

Orphans of X (although that plot point was settled, I would like to see Laura fighting old Facility customers again!)

Kingmaker

Predator X

Bellona- most interesting X-23 clone, because she is morally ambiguous!

The Krakoan (duh!!)

*I limited this to “X-Men Villans” because otherwise it would have taken FOREVER!

[magicwithclass]

Duskmourn or Innistrad?

Today, Magic the gathering released a humongous amount of new information about upcoming sets in 2024. We received many spoilers about Duskmourne and I stand with what I always thought upon first hearing about the set and theme; this could have been set on Innistrad. Maybe griselbrand has been fused to a haunted house upon resurrection (demons on Innistrad can return from being destroyed). Slowly, griselbrand has been gaining more power and he is starting to expand his domain outward. I think that a future trip to innistrad may want to move away from the typal creature support as that has been done many countless times. Do you think people would approve of an Innistrad set without the majority of creatures being locked into 5 types? Of course, vampires, spirits, humans, zombies, and werewolves/wolves would still get a few cards but it would pivot away from an overused theme just as Ixalan did in Caverns of Ixalan. After seeing Caverns of Ixalan and Murders at Karlov Manor experimenting with the idenitty of established planes, I thought that any horror set would be a lock for Innistrad. Didn't Innistrad do cosmic horror at one point? There are also many similarities between Duskmourn and Innistrad. Delirium debuted in Shadows over Innistrad. It is insulting to the audience to downplay the obvious similarities and then resuse an old mechanic that debuted on the first horror plane. One of the cards in duskmourne depicts a chainsaw. Innistrad just referenced the texas chainsaw massacre with the banned meathook massacre. Many of the spirits of Innistrad have connections to enchantments. While the creatures are not spirit, some of the glimmer creatures play in this same space. I will say that delirium seems like a stronger fit in Duskmourn as some of the villainous factions are either enchantment creatures or artifact creatures (quickened toys) The razorkin also kind of remind me of zombies and the beasties kind of remind me of werewolves. Beasties have two faces just like werewolves and werewolves also usually do not want you to see the wolf face. Even the wickerfolk kind of remind me of evil treefolk masquerading as trees. I do not like to spread conspiracy theories but a part of me thinks that Duskmounre was supposed to be set on Innistrad but they changed it after the failure of crismon vow and midnight hunt. Is Duskmourne meant as a replacement for Innistrad which looks like it has diminishing returns with set after set? Has wotc realized that returning too frequently, even to popular planes does not allow us nostalgia to build? Also, what is with the butterfly set symbol. A butterfly would have made more sense for bloomburrow or lorwyn but the symbol totally contradicts the theme. Do we get a butterfly card in the set? Will it be creature type insect or butterfly? The symbol should have obviously been a spooky house. We did get more news on Bloomburrow but I think we all know enough about what to expect from that set. I had never heard of the Redwall series but I am familiar with some of the tropes. I do not feel like the news about bloomburrow was significant or important in the history of the game. However, one announcement could have a major impact on the game going forward. Standard is now five years. Yes, after just increasing standard to 3 years they have decided to make standard even longer. May sheoldred forever reign! Ok, you got me! Standard is NOT going to be 5 years...... yet. A major announcement does shake up standard in a way that many did not see coming. Magic the Gathering Foundations is a new set that is going to release November 15 2024. It will be a standard legal set and it will be legal in standard until AT LEAST 2025. That means the set will have a role in the next two standard environments. The set is supposed to be similiar to a core set with some amount of reprints and some amount of new cards and the cards showcased so far seem very simple. So why am I so concerned about this set? Well simple does not mean weak. The few cards spoiled in Foundations seem extremely pushed.

[bethanydelleman]

Northanger Abbey Readthrough Ch 14

PEOPLE THIS IS THE BEST CHAPTER EVER!!!! We have reached the pinnacle of Tilney awesomeness...

my heroine was most unnaturally able to fulfil her engagement, though it was made with the hero himself. This always makes me think of Evelina by Fanny Burney, where the poor heroine always is taken places she doesn't want to go. Luckily for us, the country walk is actually happening! No Thorpes! No rain! Just charming Tilneys.

One of the best earnest quotes in Austen has happened!:

The narrator has taken more of a back seat at this point, but here we have the hero of the novel, openly admitting that not only does he read novels, but he loves them. Henry also seems to understand that Catherine has been mocked about this before, he's very overt in his appreciation of novels. And he calls on her to be proud of him for stealing a novel from his sister, which is just... 🥰🥰🥰 "I am proud when I reflect on it, and I think it must establish me in your good opinion.”

Now is Tilney a little pedantic? Yes. But I find it cute. Sue me.

"...But I really thought before, young men despised novels amazingly.” “It is amazingly; it may well suggest amazement if they do—for they read nearly as many as women.

Catherine has picked up a lot of language from Isabella and Mr. Tilney is subtlety (and not so subtlety) correcting it.

“Henry,” said Miss Tilney, “you are very impertinent. Miss Morland, he is treating you exactly as he does his sister. He is forever finding fault with me, for some incorrectness of language, and now he is taking the same liberty with you. The word ‘nicest,’ as you used it, did not suit him; and you had better change it as soon as you can, or we shall be overpowered with Johnson and Blair all the rest of the way.”...

“Very true,” said Henry, “and this is a very nice day, and we are taking a very nice walk, and you are two very nice young ladies. Oh! It is a very nice word indeed! It does for everything. Originally perhaps it was applied only to express neatness, propriety, delicacy, or refinement—people were nice in their dress, in their sentiments, or their choice. But now every commendation on every subject is comprised in that one word.”

Henry is pointing out both overuse of the word nice and meaning drift. You see a lot of meaning drift comparing Austen's language to ours, words like wonderful, awful, interest, etc. Nice apparently used to mean something close to "neat" and now it means "pleasant" and Henry Tilney is in a battle to preserve it. Well sorry, Mr. Tilney, but you lost. He has a point though, the overuse of a word entirely dilutes it's meaning and can make it basically mean nothing at all.

I love Catherine's speech about history:

The quarrels of popes and kings, with wars or pestilences, in every page; the men all so good for nothing, and hardly any women at all—it is very tiresome: and yet I often think it odd that it should be so dull, for a great deal of it must be invention. The speeches that are put into the heroes’ mouths, their thoughts and designs—the chief of all this must be invention, and invention is what delights me in other books.

She's so right here!

Now while Catherine does spend a lot of time in awe of Henry Tilney and his wit, she does stand on her own opinions. She asserts that "torment" and "instruct" are synonymous and to borrow the phrase of another Austen woman, she will not be laughed out of her opinion! (Jane Bennet, P&P)

Eleanor and Henry soon begin to talk about the picturesque, and from the clues it seems they have opinions similar to Marianne Dashwood and her love of dead leaves. This section is the one I see most quoted by those who think Catherine is too stupid for Henry Tilney or that he is distasteful for wanting to marry an ignorant girl.

I will first point out that ignorance is not equal to stupidity, Catherine is eager to learn. Also, I doubt Henry would have anything to do with the vapid Isabella Thorpe. Catherine may be ignorant about drawing and have trouble with discerning motives, but she is in no way an idiot. If anything, Austen is mocking this sentiment:

Where people wish to attach, they should always be ignorant. To come with a well-informed mind is to come with an inability of administering to the vanity of others, which a sensible person would always wish to avoid. A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can.

But Catherine did not know her own advantages—did not know that a good-looking girl, with an affectionate heart and a very ignorant mind, cannot fail of attracting a clever young man, unless circumstances are particularly untoward.

Does Henry enjoy being admired by Catherine in all his wit and knowledge? Undoubtedly, yes. But he also loves hanging around Eleanor who is just as intelligent as him (riot fears aside). The chief attraction here is not the ignorance. It's primarily the honesty. Here again we have Catherine fully prepared to admit that she doesn't like reading history and that she knows nothing of drawing. She doesn't pretend, she is a creature of no disguise.

Now we get to see Henry making very suggestive statements that go right over Catherine's poor head:

"...Miss Morland is not used to your odd ways.” “I shall be most happy to make her better acquainted with them.” “No doubt; but that is no explanation of the present.”

No doubt! Eleanor is shipping this couple hard. Good for her.

It was no effort to Catherine to believe that Henry Tilney could never be wrong. 

Oh Catherine, you've got it bad.

We hear from an Isabella clone (her younger sister), who was left behind from the Clifton Scheme, she is with two of the sweetest girls in the world, who had been her dear friends all the morning and says:

“They set off at eight this morning,” said Miss Anne, “and I am sure I do not envy them their drive. I think you and I are very well off to be out of the scrape. It must be the dullest thing in the world, for there is not a soul at Clifton at this time of year. Belle went with your brother, and John drove Maria.”

Girl, your speech is dripping with envy so much that even Catherine Morland, our intrepid heroine, realizes that you spouting bullshit.

I will give like, 1 half point to Thorpe for actually helping Isabella out and driving his sister to Clifton. But I award it very begrudgingly.

[tsukkismoonlight]

Together Again || U.W x reader

Summary: It's been two years since you’ve last seen your childhood friend. Busy with his career in volleyball, and your own college life, you’ve certainly missed being home. It was easy to forget the comfort of your family’s home cooked meals, and their secure hugs. Summer break just as easily brings it all back, including the way you had forgotten your true feelings for the boy next door. An old summer tradition from your young days brings you back together, and you hope that it stays that way.

Wc: 8.3k

Gn! Reader

A/n: Long time no see! I hope everyone has been well! A while back I joined the For the Summer (and Forever more) collab that @auraxins was running, and of course I got busy with work and life, but I am posting this just in time! A little fic about childhood friends and nostalgia mixed with a couple of overused tropes (that i love) please feel free to let me know what you thought about the fic, as i'm pretty excited to be posting something, and this one i'm particularly proud of! Also, this is most certainly inspired by @gb-patch ‘s Our Life, so if you haven’t checked it out before, be sure to take a look at the game!

The night air is warm, settling heavily in your chest with each breath in. The grass beneath your legs seems to both tickle and itch at the same time, a sensation that you’re not sure if it bothers you or not.

“Why are you out here by yourself?” a sudden voice comes behind you.

You startle easily. This is no exception. You quickly shoot to your feet, your eight year old self has no problem with that yet. No sore muscles or tired mindset to hold you back.

Turning to face the stranger, you find that it's a kid about your age. In the dim lighting you can't tell if his hair is a dark brown, or just black. “Uh, I’m waiting for the fireflies. They always come out this time of the year.”

He studies you for a moment, young eyes seemingly scrutinizing your appearance. Your knee has a newly healing scrape, not yet bandaged by your family. You are sure that your pale shirt has a grass stain from your tumble earlier, and you wouldn’t be surprised if your hair was unruly.

“Cool.” Is his only word. It’s hard to tell if the kid means it, by the way he stares so blankly at you.

You tear your eyes away from him, taking interest in the patch of grass under your scuffed up shoes. It's quiet once more, and yet neither of you make any moves.

Finally after what feels like an eternity, you give a small sigh. Maybe you could share your summer tradition with the boy. The one you always partook in alone, a special annual celebration of your own doing that meant the world to your eight year old self.

“Want to catch them with me?”

At this, the boy’s eyes seemed to widen some, and he gave a silent but firm nod. He moved to stand closer to you, not quite next to you, but near you.

Together, you held your breath, eyes scanning across the field as you both ached to catch a glimpse of a neon bug.

After a few mere moments, one caught your eye, just to the left of the kid, floating lazily through the air. You silently brought your hand up to point at it, starting to excitedly bob up and down on your toes.

The boy moved towards it quickly, hands outstretched as he attempted to catch it. Before he got close enough, it’s light dimmed and it disappeared into the night. He stilled, turning back to face you with golden eyes, “It was too fast…”

You laughed at him, cutting yourself off before he thought you were making fun of him, “You have to go slow! And be more careful!” You paused, thinking of a way to make it sound easier, “Like…a spy! One on a super secret mission!”

For a moment, all the boy did was stare at you, and then, he surprised you.

The boy cracked a small smile, and held a hand out to you, his left hand, “Let’s be spies then, we can pretend to need the fireflies to…to save the world.”

“Team Firefly ! That can be us!” You grin eagerly, before turning to face the rest of the grassy field, “Let’s get to work!”

Together, the two of you ran through the uneven grass, hands outstretched towards the tiny glowing bugs, pausing only when you had one to show, repeating the actions until your names had been called for the night.

Time seemed to pass quickly the rest of that summer, maybe due to having a new friend, maybe not. In fact, time seemed to pass quickly over the next few years, so much so that you were now about twenty-two, and getting ready to head back home.

“So, what's your plan for the summer?”

You turn your head to look at one of your closest friends, dark eyes meeting yours for a second before looking out of the window of your now empty dorm room.

“Well, once I get back home, I want to try and catch some fireflies if they come back out this year.”

“You haven’t done that in awhile.”

His comment stills you, a low and hollow feeling settling in your stomach. Spending time away from home was hard, and missing out on your favorite childhood activity only made it worse.

“Yeah, I guess that's true…”

He leans across a box labeled “books” lazily, humming to himself for a moment, “So, does that mean you’ll see him this summer?”

You blink a few times, face heating up as you realize what he means.

“What? No! I mean…maybe but uh. I uh…” you fumble to form a sentence, hands coming up to defend yourself.

“Jeez! I didn’t mean it that way, I just meant it in general!” He pushes himself of the box, shaking his head slowly, “I know that you’ve been in love with the guy since you met, but is that all you think about when it comes to him?”

You release a large amount of air in a dramatic sigh, “First of all, I am not /in love/ with him. He’s just a friend. Secondly, I’m not sure if he’s going to be home this summer, because of his whole volleyball thing y’know?”

“Ah yes, how could I forget, you know someone almost famous” he chuckles, rounding the corner of your small dorm hallway, “Well, when you see Ushijima Wakatoshi, don’t forget about your best friend because you are totally in love with that guy, and I’ve been telling you that for ages.”

He leaves through the front door, not before shouting something about being back the next morning to help you pack up your car.

The lock clicks loudly in the quiet of your dorm, as does the sound of your feet softly hitting the wooden floors. Your bed creaks beneath you as you lower yourself into the plastic of the mattress, something that had always bothered you about it.

You pull out your phone, tapping away at the numbers on the screen to let you in.

3473359.

Firefly.

That was your passcode. It had been part of your life ever since you were eight. Ever since you met him. Ever since Ushijima Wakatoshi snuck up on you in the tall grass.

Maybe your friend was right. As your trip back home had come closer, the only thing you’ve been able to think about was him.

You let out a loud groan, throwing yourself back onto the mattress, squeezing your eyes shut. This was no time to contemplate your feelings for your friend. If anything, this was the time to focus on your summer. Iced coffees, long naps, days at the beach, picnics, home cooked meals from your father, and the feeling that everything would be okay.

That's what you needed.

Just then, a notification crossed your screen. It was your mother.

>Everyone is excited to see you! Please drive safe tomorrow, or you might give this old woman a heart attack

You squint at the words, thumbs flying over the keyboard with a response just seconds after receiving it.

>everyone? Isn’t it just you and dad?

The typing bubble pops up, then disappears, and finally, another text.

>oh i think i forgot to tell you! Takashi Utsui and his son will be home this summer!

>i was telling them all about you and how well you’re doing in school!

Your phone nearly hits your face, though luckily it lands just to the right of your head, the screen illuminating a small portion of your room.

So he was going to be home this summer. You were going to see him after all. And he was excited to see you?

>well, i'm excited to see everyone too!

>okay well get some sleep dear, i need you to arrive in one piece tomorrow, okay?

>okay mom. I love you, see you tomorrow!

With that, you lean over to where your charger sits on the floor, before setting an alarm for the morning, and then setting a second one, knowing full and well that you’d either sleep through the first, or shut it off and go back to sleep.

The morning came and went, you, your packed car, and your favorite playlist of music, were on the road.

Driving alone had never been your favorite idea, but it had to be done. It gave you too much time to think. Too much time to think specifically about your summer. You knew that your parents had some things planned for the three of you, but they had also said that you were free to do whatever you pleased, as long as you came home at a decent time, and let them know where you were going to be.

Part of you wondered how many of their plans included Ushijima and his dad. How many did you /want/ them to be included in? Should you invite him to hang out? What if he was busy?

You sigh, shaking yourself out of your thoughts as you glance out your window, where a cow in passing grazes on some grass. You imagine that the cow has no worries, which must be nice.

You bring your focus back to the road, loosening your grip on your wheel. It was summer. You could be like the cow, not a care in the world. No school, no homework, no job, just you and the warm air, itchy grass, sticky hands from melted popsicles. You were going to enjoy yourself. You had to.

It was the late evening when you arrived at your house, two lone figures standing outside waving as you pushed the gear shift into park.

They didn’t wait for you to leave the car, your mother pulling on the handle to the driver side door, while your father stands behind her.

“You’re just in time for dinner!” Your mother.

“Why don't we do the unpacking tomorrow, and catching up tonight?” Your father.

“I have so many questions about your time away, you’ll have to answer every single one of them.” Your mother again.

Before your father could steal a chance to speak again, you climbed hastily out of the car and threw your hands around the both of them, burying your head in their shoulders, “I missed you.”

Their arms immediately enveloped your frame, squeezing you tightly as they repeated the words back to you.

Just being back in their arms made your little world feel right again, pulling you back into one piece.

Together, you walked inside of your small house, and into the kitchen where two more people sat.

The first of which was Takashi Utsui, who looked a little more aged since you last saw him. But his eyes still held that warm look he had always given his neighbors.

The second of which, was of course, Ushijima Wakatoshi. It had been two years since you had seen him. And he hadn’t changed. His hair was still styled the same way, short bangs falling over his forehead but stopping just before his eyes. Even sitting down he was tall, large frame making it a bit hard for him to sit comfortably. But what was the most recognizable, was the nearly expressionless nature of his face.

You greeted them politely, a small bow of your head before speaking up, “It’s been awhile, how are you two?”

His dad spoke first, “I’ve been well, just trying to stay busy while my son is away.” He cracks a smile, carefully clapping a hand onto Ushijima’s shoulder, “It’s been real quiet in the neighborhood without you two around.”

You give a little laugh at that, recalling days when you were kids, most typically you were the one shouting as you ran in the grass, while Ushijima made sure you weren’t going to trip on anything.

You spare another look to Ushijima, eyeing him for a moment before re-stating your question, “And how are you Ushijima-san?” You ask, turning away at the last moment. Was looking at him always so…flustering. Probably not. Your friend making all those comments must have something to do with it. You make a mental note to yell at him later for it.

You can hear the rustle of his windbreaker, and a small breath taken in. “I’ve been well, thank you for asking.”

There’s a long pause, awkward as much as it is stifling, before he speaks once again, “I hope you’ve been well.”

This brings you to look back at him, piercing eyes matched with his signature stone faced expression. Some things will never change. At least you know him well enough to know that he doesn’t mean any harm by it. A small smile seems to creep on your face.

“I have been alright. Mostly just tired. But, I finished the year off with high marks.”

Upon hearing that, his father stepped into the conversation, “Your parents have been telling us about your time in college, congratulations on finishing your year well!”

This brought your parents back into the discussion, their faces lighting up at the chance to engage in their favorite activity: smothering you with affection.

It was nice that they cared so much, but at times it could make you feel as if one wrong move, one bad grade, even the slightest way of disappointing them could make their image of you crumble away. They never meant to put that kind of weight on your shoulders, and you knew that it was entirely self imposed, but it was something you couldnt shake, ever since you first left for school.

After some time of constant praise, you managed to switch the topic, asking about summer plans.

Your mother came around to where you were standing, a gentle hand on your shoulder blade, “Whatever you want to do.”

“Mom, I can’t make all the decisions, I want to do what you and dad want to do too.” You gave her a pointed look, then looked back to your neighbors, “And if you guys have any plans, I can join you for them too, as long as im not intruding on your time together.”

Utsui seemed to brighten at your words, before turning to face his son, “Now that would be pleasant, right Wakatoshi?”

“Yeah.”

His father laughed, shaking his head slightly as he did. “Why dont you get settled in here, and we can make plans tomorrow?”

Your father nodded along, “It is getting late, we wouldn’t want to keep you too long. Let’s plan tomorrow!”

Not too long after, the five of you said your goodnights, waiting for your neighbors to step inside their house before returning to your own. Your parents walked you to your bedroom, where most of your things still laid dormant.

“Maybe tomorrow we can help you put up your pictures, and if you want we can rearrange your furniture?” Your mom stopped at the doorway, eyes scanning your childhood room carefully.

You mimicked her gesture, looking around the space. Your bed had always been pushed into the far left corner, while your desk was opposite it in the right. You had a dresser just off to the side of it, and a small closet along the same wall that your bed was on.

“No thats alright. I think kid me would cry if I changed it now.”

Your father came up behind your mother, nodding seriously, though there was a hint of a smile hiding on his features, “You did hate change when you were a kid. I still remember when Utsui and his son moved in, you were mad that our old neighbor had left, and that you wouldnt be able to play with their dog again.”

You huff dramatically, “I am still mad at them. Who is going to chase Maru around the yard?” You paused, stepping closer to your parents, “I bet they found some other kid to take my place, I’m devasted to this day.”

“I’m sure you are.” Your mom reached out to take your hands carefully, “Now, its time for you to get some sleep, you were driving all day.”

You pulled her in for a hug, in which your father joined shortly after, and you all said another set of goodnights.

The next morning, the sun woke you up. Something you had forgotten about since being away. Every morning, it would stream through your curtains, and force you to wake, like a natural alarm. You could vaguely remember kid you rolling over in an upset manner, hiding under the blankets until it got too stuffy to stay in bed.

Slowly, you pulled yourself out of bed, and stepped into the hallway, quietly making your way back into the dining area where you had been the night before. Your father stood near the opening to the small kitchn, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. He had been staring down into it, deep in thought.

Like this, you could see the age clear on him. His hair had greyed some, and he had deep smile lines by his mouth, and worry lines on his forehead. His eyes seemed tired, half due to it being about eight in the morning, and your father was not a morning person.

“Good morning, dad.” You spoke quietly, to which he still startled some.

“Oh good morning!” He grinned, moving to set his drink down for a moment, “Your mother is out in the garden, but we need to stop by the market. She wants to cook something special tonight.”

You hummed lightly, “Am I tagging along?”

He chuckled, “Oh no, not only do you need to unpack, but you got your hate for mornings from me. Go ahead and stay home kiddo.” He ruffled your hair as you walked into the kitchen, despite your attempt to dodge away from his hand.

“Mkay, you’ve got a point there.” you paused, “Any idea when you’ll be back?”

He stared at you evenly, “You know how your mother is, we might be there for a few hours. She’s very picky when it comes to cooking ingredients.” While his words were slightly exasperated, he still held a warmness in his eyes. He probably could spend all day at the market with your mom, if it meant making her happy.

He left you to find your breakfast, ushering your mom into their car and driving off to the market just barely on the other side of town.

You settled for some toast and eggs. Bringing it back into your room, a little voice in your head reminding you to bring the dishes back out before your mother returned. You would not repeat the summer you were twelve, when she discovered crumbs on your bed.

You picked up your phone from where it was hidden under your pillow, opening it to your messages. Your friend had messaged you, just hours before you woke up, most likely he was getting up for a run. How he managed it every morning was beyond you.

>Get home alright?

>See your boyfriend yet?

You glared intensely at the screen, hoping he could feel it wherever he was. You tapped away at the screen.

>he’s not my boyfriend

He responded quickly, another cheeky remark filling your screen.

>but you want him to be

You paused, starting to reply, but backspacing your words. You couldn’t find a way to defend yourself without knowing he would only use it to his advantage.

>Im blocking your number

You hit send, and directed your attention to your bedroom window. There was a slight thudding noise coming from outside. Your hands deftly sliding it open, just as you had done many times growing up.

It wasn’t hard to find the source of the noise. In his backyard, Ushijima was practicing. You watched silently as he set himself up for a receive, before quickly moving to a low stance, arms in a perfect platform. The ball flew back up into the air, a few inches away from his old volleyball net. His next move was something you had always wished to see in person. He had just enough time to take two steps, before pushing off the ground. His left hand making contact with the ball flawlessly.

With no blockers, and no one to attempt a recieve from his hit, it slammed into the ground, and bounced away. He seemed to take a few heavy breaths before crossing under the net, stooping down to collect his volleyball.

When he turned back around, his eyes strayed up to your window, instantly spotting you leaning out of it.

You stifled a gasp, realizing that you had been staring at him while he was practicing, for too long. You could feel the warmth in your cheeks, and raised a hand ever so slightly. “Uh, morning, Ushijima-san.”

It took him a moment to reply, most likely wondering why you had been watching him. “Good morning.”

You gave a sheepish smile, mentally kicking yourself as you did. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to watch for so long, I just never actually got to see you play outside of a phone screen.”

He walked a little closer to your window, stopping short of his fence. As he did, you could see a light layer of sweat, and his face slightly red. He must have been at it for quite some time. Which did not surprise you. With his repuatation, a volleyplayer such as himself couldn’t afford to miss out on practice.

His words brought you out of your own thoughts, a question that you hadn’t thought he would bother asking.

“You watched my games?”

Instinctively, you leaned a little further out of your window, just as you had done as a kid, “Of course I did. I tried to keep up with all of your games! Its you, I mean, we were close friends as kids, so…” You trailed off, trying not to sound weird.

Just then, Ushijima let out a quiet but clearly a positive hum, and his lips turned up in a small smile. The sight of it made your heart thud. You looked away, instead taking an incredible amount of focus on a cloud in the distance.

“Next time I have a game, I’ll send you a ticket.”

Another sentence that cause your heart to beat hard enough for you to notice. You glanced back over to him, taking a moment to calm yourself. “I promise to be the looudest one cheering for you then.”

He finished your statment for you, “Like when we were kids.”

Your mind stilled for a second. You had convinced yourself that by now, Ushijima Wakatoshi had left behind the times that you shared when you were younger, in favor of his sport and new friends. The thought was immediately shattered upon hearing his words.

“Yeah, just like when we were kids.” You returned the sentiment, before clearing your throat some, “I’ll uh, let you get back to it though. I need to bring my things inside and unpack.”

He nodded to you, slowly turning away to the net once more.

You paused, halfway back inside your room, before leaning back out of it once more, “Ushijima-san!”

He glanced back your way, eyes a little wide at your sudden call. The ball in his hands waiting for its user to continue his practice.

“When i’m done, would you like to join me for a trip into town? Maybe I can buy us lunch or something…”

He thought for a moment, eyes showing no hint as to what exactly those thoughts were. The seconds spanned between the two of you, your stomach seemed to churn with anxiety.

“Sure.”

You nearly let out a sigh of relief. Then said a temporary goodbye before sliding back into your bed. You never had trouble asking him to hang out as a kid, which was probably due to the nature of your friendship. As kids, you had a large amount of courage, and hardly ever took no as answer, especially when it came to Ushijima. Where you went, he was sure to follow.

The more you thought on it, the more you realized that Ushijima had been such a staple of your life. When you were kids, Ushijima scared away anyone who was mean to you, and you would loudly object to anyone who called him names. Before highschool, you had grown even closer, enough to talk to him about your dreams for the future, the ones that did not match your childhood dreams. Nothing would ever top being spies however.

You breathed in, a thought at the forefront of your mind. Your friend was right. Even just being home for one day reminded you of the affection you held for your neighbor. How long had you ignored the idea that you might want to be more than just friends with Ushijima? You couldn’t say, but looking back on the years, it was easy to see now.

You always wanted to be near him, always wanted to share a space with him even if it meant sitting in silence. You’d share food with eachother, and offered to take care of him if he ever felt sick. You would do your best to help him practice, which usually resulted in you shagging the balls that he hit your way. Not to mention that every summer that he had been home, you always dragged him out to see the fireflies.

You could feel your chest tighten, heart rapidly speeding up as you came to the realization that you did have feelings for him, and had just been hiding them away from yourself. But now, what could you do about it? You would never want to get in the way of his career in volleyball, or any dreams that he had, and you also had aspirations of your own, ones that might mean being away from him. And of course, there was the heavy weight that loomed over you, shadowing you with uncertainty. Ushijima might not even like you in the same way. Afterall, you had pretty much been the driving force of your friendship. Hopefully he had never felt that you were overbearing.

From where it still sat on your bed, your phone began to buzz a random pattern. You were getting a phone call.

You mentally thanked whoever it was for the distraction, and reached over to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello to you too, you mother would like to know if she should buy you anything from the market?” Your father sounded a little muffled, probably trying to keep his voice down while out in public.

You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it, “I don’t think so…not unless they still have the stand with the necklace pendants!” That one had always been your favorite to look at as a kid. It was full of intricate designs on either wood, stone, or wire wrapped gems. You never had enough on you to buy one, but looking was enough.

“Hah, okay. I’ll let her know. Did you get your stuff inside yet?”

“No, not yet. I’m about to though, and then when i’m done, I invited Ushijima to go into town with me, it’s been awhile since I’ve been there. “

You dad was quiet for a moment, thinking over his words most likely, “Back to sticking by his side all the time?” there was a light teasing tone in his voice, and something told you that your father was onto you and your troublesome feelings for Ushijima.

“Well, it is summer, I have to be as much as a kid while I can.”

Another pause, “Well, don’t forget to come home to your loving and adoring parents, yeah?”

You snorted, “Yeah, I wont forget. I’ll let you go back to shopping though, don’t lose mom in the crowd.”

After you hung up, you looked back to your forgotten breakfast, carefully grabbing the plate and taking it back down into the kitchen. You needed to focus on bringing your things inside and set up your room. It takes you a few trips to get it all inside, but it gets done.

You glance at the time. Eleven thirty-two. You could at least unpack your clothes, and put them away in your dresser. Most of them should still be folded anyways. You moves past your box of books, and another one labelled ‘decorations’ before finding your suitcase. You pulled out an outfit for today, and then started to separate shirts from pants and shorts, athletic clothes fom sleepwear, and everything inbetween. Once they were all sorted, you moved onto putting them away in your drawyers, knowing full and well that they’d inevitably end up sitting in a laundry basket, never to be folded again.

As you finished, you took some time to clear a pathway through your room, picking up your clothes to bring them to the bathroom, so you could take a quick shower to wash off your drive from the day before.

By the time you stepped out of the shower, it was already noon. Hopefully Ushijima still wanted to join you in seeing your hometown for the first time in about a year for you, and about two years for him. You wondered if anything had changed, and what had stayed the same. If you could change within a year, so could your town.

With a fresh set of clothes, you set out to go find Ushijima. A quick glance outside your window showed that he was no longer practicing, which meant you’d have to go to their front door. Grabbing your car keys from where you had tossed them onto your desk, you once more made your way to the front of the house, and locking the door behind you. You hesitated for only an instant before stepping off your small porch and crossing through the grass to your neighboring house, rapping your knuckles across the door in a way to keep it from being too loud.

Within moments, the door swung open, revealing Ushijima. He had changed out of his clothes from earlier, now in a simple gray t-shirt and a pair of black joggers. He looked good. As the though hit you, you shoved it away, not wanting to just stand in his doorway focused on how he looked attractive in the plain outfit.

“Do you still want to join me to town?” You asked, rocking back onto your heels, waiting for his answer.

His eyes slid to the side, just behind the door, where he grabbed a crewneck sweater, pulling it over his head easily before stepping outside, “Yeah.”

You looked at him sideways for a moment, pursing your lips as you looked at his sweater. “You do know it’s going to be hot out?”

“I do know that. But it might get cold iniside certain buildings. I want to be prepared.” He stated it so simply, as if he couldn’t fathom why you didn’t have the same thought process.

You laughed lightly, of course that was his reasoning. Ushijima wanted to be prepared to be cold, in the middle of summer. At least he was thinking ahead. Something about the whole thing made you wonder if he was like that with everything he did, though he had never seemed overly cautious.

“Mkay, let’s get in the car.”

“What’s funny about my sweater?” he asked from your side, his long strides making it hard to keep up with him for the short distance that was to your car.

At this, you reached over to his sleeve, pulling at the seam gently, “It’s inside out Ushijima-san.” You kept your voice a little low, trying to be gentle about it. You’d never seen him get embarrassed but if he were, it would be about something like that. Ushijima usually wanted to seem well put together when he was home.

He looked down at his sweater, pulling it away from his body as he inspected it. “You’re right.” He stopped walking, starting to pull the dark green crewneck back over his head, now flipped so it wasn’t inside out. He slid his arms back into the sleeves, only to struggle getting it over his head. You blinked a few times before moving closer to him, the soft fabric in your hands before you could think about it.

With a careful tug, you pulled the crewneck back down, freeing Ushijima from death by sweater. You were looking down at the lettering on it, when you could hear him take the quietest breath in. This prompted you to look up, quickly becoming aware of how close you had gotten to him. Your eyes met. In the sunlight, his eyes looked golden. They were widened, seemingly a little shocked. You immediately took a step back, fumbling with your words for a moment before finally getting out an apology.

“I did not realize how close I was, I’m sorry!” You held your hands out away from your body, mind still reeling.

Ushijima appeared to have shook himself from his surprise, and once more looked at you, “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Another apology died in your throat, as you proccessed his words. He didn’t mind? What the hell was that supposed to mean? He didn’t mind you helping him with his sweater, or he didn’t mind how close you were? If it was the latter, then what does that even mean in general? Was itbecause you were close friends as kids? Or was it-

You stopped yourself from the spiraling thoughts, instead focusing on not letting your face show your worried thoughts.

“Ah, what do you mean by that?” You questioned, trying to be casual about it.

He stiffened visibly, one of his hands coming up to pull at the collar of his crewneck. “It’s nothing. Thank you for helping me.”

And just like in your dining room, an uncomfortable silence descended over the two of you, one that hung in the air like a candle scent that you dont entirely love. It lasted the whole car ride into town. You resolved to ignore it for the time being, and instead try to lighten the mood from whatever it was just then.

You rounded a corner steadily, and pulled to a stop infront of an old cafe. It used to be run by an elderly couple, but a few years back, they retired, and their daughter and her partner took over the business for them.

There was a subtle ringing of bells as the two of you walked inside, making your way to the counter side by side. You watched as Ushijima’s eyes wandered the little cafe. He looked down at the counter, where a small cat statue sat, portraying a spotted cat curled up, asleep. He gingerly tapped the ceramic head of the cat, lips curling up ever so slightly.

You both looked up as a hostess greeted you politely, and led you to a small booth. She left you for a few moments after that. It wasn’t busy in the cafe but she did have other patrons to attend to.

“I’ve never been here.” Ushijima was still looking around, admiring the minimalistic design of the place. It was mostly white, with some soft blue detailing, and a few gray-scale paintings hanging on the wall.

“Really?” For someone who had lived here almost his whole life, he sure didn’t get out much. It was almost hard to believe that he hadn’t also been everywhere you had been. At least that’s what both of your parents would say on the topic.

“Mhm.” He pulled his attention back to you, a tender look in his eyes as he mused outloud, “I think Tendo would like it here.”

The name rang a bell in your head, and it took you about two seconds to remember why. “Oh! You played with Tendo at Shiratorizawa! I think I remember seeing him on the court!”

He nodded. “I think you two would have gotten along too.”

“Maybe he can visit sometime, he seemed like a good friend to you when you weren’t playing.”

Ushijima thought for a moment, before pulling out his phone, “Would you mind joining me for a picture?”

The suddenness of the question took you by surprise, tilting your head as you gave Ushijima a blank look.

“Well, I think he would like this cafe, and also have liked you.” He sucked at communicating. It took you at least three whole seconds to connect the dots.

Like a light being clicked on, you understood what he meant. Ushijima wanted to send a picture to his friend. He wanted you in the picture. He was going to tell his friend about you. Well…maybe.

“Yeah, okay. Do you want me to sit in your side of the booth for it?”

He merely nodded in response, a more serious look crossing his face as he tapped away at his screen. While he readied the camera, you stood up, making your way to the open spot on the booth, sliding close to him, but not as close as earlier.

The smell of freshly washed linen, and slightly of sandalwood washed over you, and you were surprised that you hadn’t noticed it earlier. Your shoulders bumped as he leaned a little closer to you. And you drew your attention to his camera, where Ushijima’s finger hovered over the shutter button. You frowned slightly, watching as his face stayed the same levelness that he always seemed to have.

“You should smile.” You stated plainly, bringing a hand up to his face, poking his cheek. It was easy to fall into a pattern of being playful with him, just as you did when you were younger. You almost didn’t even realize that you had done it.

He turned over to you, opening his mouth to say something, before shutting it quickly. He seemed to question himself for a moment, before doing what he was told. His smile didn’t seem forced. It was small and rather cute. You leaned in a little more, letting a natural smile take over your face as he snapped a few pictures. One of them you didn’t even notice Ushijima holding up two fingers behind your head, acting as bunny ears, until he had already taken the picture.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that, Ushijima-san.” You said as you started to stand back up, to return to your side of the table.

However, he caught your wrist, his hand easily enveloping your wrist, though his grip wasn’t tight enough to hurt you.

“You don’t need to do that.” He paused, thinking to himself once more before continuing, “We’ve known eachother for years, we don’t need to use honorifics.”

You knew that when he said ‘we’ he meant you. And it wasn’t something you were doing on purpose, rather it was habit you had forced yourself to do while in school, as you only really had the one close friend, and hardly knew any other students beyond their names. But Ushijima…he had a point. You had known him since you were eight. You nodded slowly, starting to pull your hand out of his. You tried to ignore the way your fingers lingered on his. You tried to ignore the searing feeling of his hand on your wrist. The gentle tone he had taken. The meaning of his words.

“Okay, just Ushijima then.” you sat back down, and before either of you could continue, your hostess came back.

She took your drink orders, and then your food orders, and left once more.The rest of your time at the cafe was spent talking, and then at times, sitting in silence while you ate your food. But it was different than in the car. This was easy, comfortable, a reminder of how things used to be before the two years of not seeing eachother had happened. You could sit at this diner with Ushijima for hours. Maybe even days.

But, you did have to return back home at some point. Your mother was making dinner, and your father made you promise to come back, in his own words of not forgetting your parents, of course.

Back at the front counter, you tried to pay, card already in hand, when Ushijima’s phone flashed a card, and the reader gave a short beep. You blinked a few times, your brain trying to catch up to your eyes.

“Hey! I was supposed to pay!”

He shrugged a response, already turning to the door of the cafe, “Too slow, maybe next time.”

And just like earlier in the day, at your window, your heart sped up, its beats sounding loud in your chest. He had said next time. There was going to be a next time. You forced a scowl, shaking your head at him. “I’ll slip money under your door.”

He held the door open for you, his hand coming to the small of your back as he followed behind, guiding you out of the way of more cafe guests. His touch seemed to burn, but in the way the sun felt when you were outside, its rays warming your skin while a breeze floated past.

“I’ll just return the money.” He leaned down, his words held a light tone to them. This was the Ushijima you knew as a kid. While he could sound uninterested, the fact that he talked at all was how you knew he was your friend. And that was all you needed to know when you were younger. That you had made a friend in him.

You frown at him, and stop walking all together. “Ushijima Wakatoshi. This can only be settled one way then.”

He stared back, brows furrowing for only a moment before you spoke again.

“The fireflies. They should be out tonight. If you can catch more than me, I’ll let you get away with paying for lunch. If I can cath more than you, I get to pay you back.”

He stepped around you, throwing a competetive look over his shoulder, “Alright.”

You pulled your keys out, unlocking the car for the both of you. It was a short trip home, filled with music from an artist you hadn’t heard of, but was good nonetheless.

You departed on the sidewalk, after confirming that you’d meet up in your backyard around ten pm.

Upon walking inside, your mother greeted you with a kind smile, and an almost childlike joy in her eyes. Your heart swelled at the sight.

“Good evening, how was the market?” You asked, slipping off your shoes before making your way to where she stood by the kitchen counter.

“Oh it was wonderful! Your father let me bring home new plants for the garden, as well as some handmade house decorations!” She paused, hands coming up to hold your shoulders for a moment before her eyes widened, “Oh! We also got you a few gifts! Let me go get them!”

She disappeared into the hallway, leaving you in the quiet of the kitchen, a pot on the stove bubbling on a low flame. It smelled good. You had missed it.

When your mother reentered the room, your father was trailing behind her. She held a small parchment envelope, which she passed to you, holding your hands for a passing moment.

When she let go, you took a moment to admire the packaging. It was a simple brown paper, wrapped with twine, and a small card stamped with the vendor’s logo. Simple, but definitely something to take your time on looking at.

You carefully untie the twine, and unfold the wrapping, revealing two identical necklaces. They were fireflies. The bug itself was carved out of wood with impressive detailing, while the end had small green stones, if you shifted them one way or another, the green would fade a slight yellow, giving the feeling of a glow.

You smiled at the sight. It wasn’t hard to imagine why they bought two of them. Your parents knew what the lightning bugs meant to you…and you were sure that they knew how much Ushijima meant to you.

“After dinner, be sure to give him the other one.” Your father said, all while stirring the contents of the pot on the stove, most likely knowing that your mom would eventually forget that it was there.

“I will, dont worry.” You wave him off, starting to say something to change the subject, when your mother stops you short.

“I don’t want to assume anything, but do you love him?”

You froze. The feeling from earlier today taking over your whole body. A not quite uncomfortable feeling, but one that sends warmth to your cheeks and a slight tremble to your hands.

Instantly, your father chastised your mother, trying to ease his child at the same time.

You took a moment to shake off the nerves that had spilt over your mind. “Its okay dad. Im sure that you guys have always known…” you trailed off, eyes glancing to the clock on the wall nearest to you, “I think I do love him. I’m not sure when it happened, but even for the short time I’ve been home, It’s been on my mind. He’s been on my mind.”

Your parents shared a look. They weren’t exactly expecting you to be so honest with them on the topic. When they brought their attention back to you, they both wore the same expression. Not quite worried, but it was still there.

“Are you going to tell him?” Your dad’s voice was soft, one he would use when he tried approaching the local strays.

You shifted your weight, mind racing with all the different ways that conversation with Ushijima could go. In the end, you were sure that you’d regret it if you didn’t.

“Yeah. Tonight. When the fireflies come out.”

They shared another look, and a quiet breath escaped your mother. When she turned back to you, she was smiling once more, “Well, let’s eat before the big moment, yeah?”

You’re hardly able to eat dinner, hardly able to sit still. You notice every minute that passes by. It takes all of your strength to stay with your parents as they finish their meals.

It’s nine forty-five when you make your way to your backyard, slowly coming to sit on the ground, trying to take as many deep breaths as you possibly can.

The night air is warm, and it settles in your chest heavily. The grass beneath your legs tickles and itches all at once. Above your head, a few fireflies are seemingly floating in the summer night’s breeze.

This time, his voice doesn’t scare you.

“You’re early. It’s not ten yet.”

You turn halfway, leaning on one of your hands as you do, “I know. I figured I’d sit for a minute.”

He walks closer, standing next to you for a moment, eyes straying up to the sky. He brings his eyes back to your form, lowering himself into the grass next to you. Ushijima is still wearing his sweater. He still smells vaguely of sandalwood.

Neither of you speak just yet. You don’t know how to tell him your thoughts, and he must know that you have something on your mind.

A small gust of air passes over you, and you can’t help the shiver that follows shortly. Part of it is from the temperature starting to drop, the other part from nerves.

“Would you like my sweater?” His voice is quiet, and sincere.

You don’t even get the chance to answer before he slides it off, and passes it to you. You fumble over a thank you, trying to hide the shaking of your hands as you pull the collar over your head, tugging on the sleeves until they meet your wrists.

It’s silent again.

You open your mouth to speak, when you feel something land on your hand. Your eyes flick downwards.

You hadn’t seen it. A lone firefly danced through the air before it came to rest atop your hand. It’s gentle glow would come and go in waves while you watched it crawl.

“Caught one.” Your voice scares it away, but the sensation stays.

He chuckles. A sound you had always enjoyed. “That’s only one. I can catch up.”

You shake your head lightly, remembering the earlier conversation you had. “Hey, before we catch any more, can I tell you something?”

Ushijima glances towards you, then nods in response, “Sure. What is it?”

You angle your body towards him, finding a few stray blades of grass to keep your hands occupied as you work up the courage to confess. Finally, the words tumble out of your mouth.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“You think?”

You catch yourself smiling carefully, looking out towards the edge of your yard, “No…I know I do. I was pushing my feelings aside for a while. But, I needed to tell you, now that we’re together again.”

A few beats of silence pass again. And you’re about to ramble about how it’s okay if he doesn’t feel the same, when his hand tenderly turns your face to look at him.

Your eyes meet his golden ones, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull your lips to his.

His hand is gentle and warm as he cups the side of your face. You can feel his lashes ever so slightly on yours. His lips are chapped enough to notice, but not enough for you to care. Ushijima is careful in how he kisses you. It’s light and fleeting, and everything you need to suppress your worries.

When you part, you’re speechless. His hand doesn’t leave your face. You shut your eyes for a passing second before looking back at him.

“I know that I’m in love with you too.” He sounds sure of himself, as he always does, but this time it's different.

You aren’t exactly sure when, but eventually you found yourself leaning your head on his shoulder, watching as the fireflies lifted into the night sky. You could sit there for hours, as long as you had Ushijima right there next to you.

[thecomicsnexus]

TMNT ADVENTURES: THE FOREVER WAR (kind of FAN MADE)

April 2024

By Steve Murphy, Chris Allan, Andrew Modeen, Artem Tsarkov, Arseniy Dubakov, Egor Prutov , Jon D'Agostino, Dmitry Bobrovnik, Yuri Kochin, and Jim Lawson.

The Shredder finally succeeds at erasing the Turtles from history and conquering the world. But the Turtles and Splinter will try to defeat him and ensure their existence in this conclusion of the iconic Archie series.

SCORE: 8

You'll have to forgive the lack of images, but it is very hard to scan this book (I'll see what I can do for the video review, but I may need to work with photos of it). In any case, this is another of those fan projects by Arseniy Dubakov and Andrew Modeen... but with some interesting twists in its genesis.

You probably remember that this saga was announced in 1995 before the Archie adventures were canceled, and fans have been speculating forever about how the story ended.

In 2009 we almost got the conclusion by the original team (Steve Murphy and Chris Allan), but the turtles were sold to Viacom and the plans never materialized. In any case, Murphy couldn't remember where he was going with the story, so it would be fair to say that it was never going to be the same arc.

More recently, Chris Allan met Arseniy and the two got together to make this project happen. The first chapter (which was made public at some point in the past few years), was mostly recovered from 1995, but it had been colored and edited by the new team.

As far as I know, the second chapter was plotted by Steve Murphy, and I can say that the two first chapters feel the most like the original book... with some annoying differences.

After that, the book does its job, and the story works very well. The project was promoted as "closing all open plots" of the original series, but fortunately, it only tried to solve a time paradox that has always been a problem in that book. I applaud the restrain of the writers from bringing up every single plot point just to let readers know they read the book (as is usually the case with these projects).

The art is probably the most spectacular aspect of the book. It's an updated look for the Archie adventures that for the most part, looks like a continuation of the story. There are some stylistic differences when it comes to inking after chapter one, but you get used to them after a while.

The book comes with two back-up stories. One penciled by Jim Lawson that tries to make sense of the convoluted Archie timeline (specifically about which Shredder you were looking at in each adventure). The second backup is some sort of epilogue to Forever War that will leave you with more questions than answers.

For me, the weakest point of the book is the "overwriting" from Andrew.

It's hard to explain, but Andrew goes into these long narrations directed at the reader that just feel overproduced and underproduced at the same time. There is an overuse of "Modeen" expressions that can be said by any character at any time. Perhaps because he is not doing the writing/plotting alone, this is his best story yet. We know Andrew is a fan, an we know he can write. But it would be nice if he could work on his dialogues and... I'm going to call it now... think twice before adding an unnecessary celebrity quote at the beginning of each chapter.

I am not sure if this was in the original plot, but some elements in this story were even darker than the original series (like slashing a classic character in two). I get that we all grew up and we can take it, but this should be a continuation of that book, and I feel that it wasn't this bloody (most of the time).

But again, this story worked for me, it didn't bring up characters and plots just for the sake of it, and the turtles were front and center.

Should we consider this an ending for the Archie series? Well, just like it happened with Volume 3 before Urban Legends came out, this is all we can get. It's technically just the story, and not a proper ending, so you could still consider "Year of the Turtle" the final story (I assume that it not being referenced was intentional). There is one reference to "TMNT: Odyssey" (because for some reason, all these projects need to share the same multiverse), but it can be easily ignored... I think.

Maybe one day IDW will decide to do their own version of Forever War, but I don't think Chris Allan would go through this ordeal again... I think it could be published as is (fourth-wall monologuing included). Perhaps censoring some of the blood, to keep it consistent with Archie guidelines.

Now, let's take a look at those spoilers after the break...

You guessed it, most of the chapters take place in an alternate timeline. This allows for familiar characters to return even if they were already dead. And also introduces Carter to the Archie universe... and he may be British... I don't know.

Most characters show up to die... which isn't unusual on alternate timeline stories, but feels like a waste. Carter and Claire had very little time to do anything, and Claire being April's sister is an interesting twist... but I wonder what caused it? It is implied that they may have been separated at some point, but the existence of the same photograph without her suggests there wee further alterations to that timeline.

The Mutanimals play the bad guys... probably for the better. I wonder if the reason they didn't undo their deaths, or brought back Cherubae, was so that it could all tie into "TMNT: Odyssey"? Whatever the reason was, I appreciate it.

Perhaps the biggest reveal was that Chet was the Rat King. While this is a fun twist, some things are a bit too convenient. Why did he choose the H'antaan name? And why didn't he ever mentioned this to anyone in the original timeline? (Apart from the flashback in this book).

Overall, Shredder's plan makes sense (for once), although he somehow recreated all the mutants from the original series, even the ones that weren't mutants (like Katmandu)... perhaps he and Al'Falqa simply joined the cause.

There isn't much characterization for the turtles, but I think is in line with the original book as well. And to be fair, the main focus is the story.

The Jim Lawson back-up also introduces another problem, a Shredder that finally remember everything (this may be the one in "Year of the Turtle"). Mr. Null decides to share all of this, searching for the Turnstone (a "TMNT: Odyssey" plot). I don't like these fan-projects being all connected, but I appreciate the long explanation of the Shredder paradox in the Archie adventures. It also officialized that Armaggon created the Archie universe.

I would have appreciated a Mr. Null origin story... but I guess that would have clashed with "Odyssey" (and this is why I don't like them being connected).

I may sound negative, but my nitpicks only took two points from the overall score. I am happy with the results, and I think we can now stop wondering what it could have been.

Although... can you imagine what it could have been in 1995?

That my friends... is the forever war.

[Include some super serious celebrity quote here]