#he just wanted his paper boat guys

[evilbookworm]

Georgie in most fics sadly 😔

rip Georgie y’all

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Angel || LN4

Summary: Kingsday gets a little wild, in honour of Lando’s nose. Warnings: alcohol, injuries, blood WC: 1.7k

Lando wasn’t drunk, but he was by no means sober either. Everyone had warned him the Kingsday event was a marathon not a sprint so he was taking it slow, sipping his rum and coke out of the orange paper cup while the river boat cruised its course.

By midafternoon it was another story completely.

Martin had taken a break and let a playlist continue the party without him on the deck while he went in search of Lando. The British driver had reached the point of being tipsy and fallen into a state of drunkenness where he could no longer block out his intrusive thoughts. Everywhere he looked couples were dancing or making out and he couldn’t help the despair of loneliness that separated him from the fun.

Leaning back on the cushions that covered the bow, Lando looked up to the bright blue sky and wondered why he couldn’t find someone that loved him with the same passion he had. He was always the one to fall harder and knew it was why things didn’t work out long-term.

The half empty cup was stolen from his hand and Lando lolled his head to see Martin drinking it dry. “No more for you, my friend. Smile! It’s Kingsday: the sun is out and the music is loud.”

“Sorry,” Lando sighed, not quite able to muster up a real smile.

“What’s wrong?” Martin dropped onto a cushion beside him and nudged his shoulder until Lando spilled the thoughts he was harbouring.

—

“These heels are killing me,” you complained as they wobbled on the cobblestone. “Can we stop for a minute?”

There were groans from some of the guys in the group but their girlfriends silenced them. You smiled gratefully at your friends but knew they were in just as much pain after hours of drinking in the city for Kingsday. The thought of walking any further to the house party someone had invited everyone to nearly had you calling for a taxi, despite the chances of getting one next to nothing.

“Lennon said there will be tons of single guys at the party. In that dress you will totally pull a 10,” Sarah said as she leaned back against the bridge rail and rolled each ankle to ease the ache.

You laughed at the statement and mirrored her position, careful not to drop the glass you had accidentally stolen from the last bar. “Getting laid isn’t the problem, it’s getting the guy to stick around afterwards.”

“Relationships are overrated,” she said, blowing a kiss to Lennon when he looked her way and raised a brow. “Not ours, baby.”

You sighed longingly as they shared a smile. “I want what you guys have.”

“Well then you better hurry up because the love of your life might just be waiting for you. Wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”

You rolled your eyes but decided that you would continue the walk barefoot and put your heels back on when you got to the house. Leaning against the rail, you balanced on one foot and reached for your heel just as a drunkard went flying past on his e-bike.

“Ah, shit!” you screamed as you lost your balance, toppling back over the rail and straight towards the murky water below.

—

Martin yawned as he listened to Lando’s long winded explanation for why he was alone and all his friends were in relationships.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was putting you to sleep,” he sassed.

“Well if you want some advice, from someone in a relationship, you’re not helping yourself moping around. For starters, you need to get up,” Martin encouraged as he rose to his feet and offered his friend a hand before the sunlight disappeared, the boat passing under one of the many bridges. “Love isn’t going to just fall into your lap-”

A scream pierced the air before a flurry of orange material crashed onto Lando, both their eyes squinting to readjust to the bright sunlight out of the tunnel.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you realised you were still alive and you looked around to see what had broken your fall. “Holy shit, I am so sorry!”

A stunned man sat beneath you and you reached for his face as you noticed the blood running down his nose. “Oh my god, did I do that? Are you alright? Shit, you probably don’t speak English.”

“He speaks English. It’s getting him to shut up that’s the problem,” a man standing above you said with a laugh. “Lando, mate, snap out of it.”

You started to climb off his lap but his arms tightened around you and he shook his head with a wince. “Don’t move, you might have broken something.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you apologised again.

“Not me, you muppet,” he laughed. “You might have broken something.”

You patted yourself down, straightening your dress back into place at the same time, but everything felt fine. You tested your wrists and ankles too, only to notice you had indeed broken things.

“What’s the damage?” Lando asked.

“Ego mostly,” you admitted sheepishly. “I think I broke my heel on your face.”

“Pretty sure that was your glass,” he said looking at what remained in your hand, the sting of the cut on your palm finally appearing when you noticed the blood on the broken glass. “How bad is it? Am I hideous?”

“You are still a 10,” you giggled after noticing he was devastatingly handsome, even with the cut across his nose. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you gently dabbed the blood away before realising that it was a stupid idea. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

“Rabies,” his friend joked.

“Speak for yourself, mate,” Lando shot back and while they bickered jokingly you heard your name called from the river bank. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Are you alive?” Lennon shouted as he ran along with the boat.

“Nope, I’ve died and gone to heaven!”

“I’ll let Sarah know!” He grew smaller as he stopped running and the boat continued downstream to some unknown destination.

“That’s my best friend’s boyfriend,” you explained as you patted your bra but found your phone missing. “Can I borrow your phone? I think mine drowned.”

Lando carefully shifted you so he could get to his pocket before settling you back on his lap. The grateful smile you gave him almost made him drop the device and he had to enter his passcode in twice before he got it right.

“Where is this boat heading to?” you asked as the dial tone connected. “Hey, it’s me, calm down, I’m alive.”

“Good, I’ll kill you myself! You gave me a fucking heart attack, woman!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as she shouted her concern.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m sorry for giving you a heart attack.”

“As you should be! Len said you landed on some guy. Is he hot?”

Your face heated and you knew he had heard the question with the curious look on his face. “Mhmm, very.”

“You should invite him to the party and do a little sexy dance for him!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I kind of…broke his face.”

The silence was damning before you swore you heard her laugh from all the way upstream. “Only you could have the worst luck with men.”

“Trust me, I know all too well. Anyway, they are stopping at the Rose Bridge so I’ll just meet you guys there. Guess my luck isn’t all that bad.”

You ended the call and handed the phone back.

“What party are you going to?” Lando asked as he pocketed it again.

“I don’t know, it’s some house party. There’s a local DJ playing.”

Lando’s smile grew and he pointed to his friend. “Local DJ, ha!”

As it turned out the house party wasn’t actually a party at someone’s house and the DJ wasn’t just locally renowned. Once you were finally introduced to Lando’s friend you found out he was the DJ, Martin Garrix, and Lando was even more famous.

“I can’t afford a lawsuit,” you groaned when you realised you had practically assaulted a celebrity.

“It’s just a scratch,” Lando assured you after Martin found a first aid kick. His poor attempt at wrapping a bandage made Lando look like a mummy so you took the box yourself and found a couple of small butterfly stitches. “Nothing a kiss wouldn’t fix.”

You giggled at his flirty nature you had come to adore in the last hour and if you hadn’t drunk so much liquid courage at the bar you probably wouldn't have been able to lean closer and kiss his cheek. His skin was warm and soft beneath your lips and when you opened your eyes you found his blue eyes staring intently back. “Better?”

He shook his head. “Nope, I think it needs another try.”

“Hmmm, good idea.” You kissed his other cheek and grinned when he pouted. “No? One last try.”

Your fingers delighted in the feel of his soft hair as you combed the curls and dipped your head to his. Your heart rate spiked and you closed your eyes as you kissed his pillow-soft lips teasingly slowly before his hands cupped your face and he deepened the kiss.

You broke away with a small gasp and your eyes were wide with the want for more. It was a look reflected on Lando’s face as he gently stroked your heated cheeks.

“Hey, lovebirds! We’re here,” Martin called as the boat reached the canal edge.

You kicked off your broken heels and Lando frowned before he gave you his, looping his fingers into the straps of your shoes to carry them. You were already wearing his shirt since your dress had his blood on it and you were certain you looked at absolute mess.

“Ready to party, Angel?”

“Angel?”

“What else would I call a beautiful woman who fell from the heavens?” Lando wondered if he was making a mistake and moving to fast like he always did but it was too late, the question was already out there.

“You could call me your girlfriend.” You cringed in an instant. “I mean not tonight, that would be way too quick but-”

Lando cut you off with a kiss and you felt his smile against your lips before he asked, “How about tomorrow?”

[i-loved-silly]

(PART 2) - WOLVERINE x READER x DEADPOOL — fuckup twinsies

dp&w spoilers!! + slight gore description --- part 1

Okay, recap.

Your perfect little day in dimension-travel-jail was interrupted. You almost got knocked out by two muscular men who came down from the sky like little drunk angels, who in turn happened to be famous characters. You don't know how you didn't realize earlier, guess timeline hopping also slowly melts your brain. You should really get an MRI exam sometime.

You almost passed out again when you realized you were chest-to-chest with Deadpool. Wade Wilson. Heart to heart. Body to body. Tip to tip, if that applies to you.

"You're real. I'm real. We're real." You deadpanned, stars almost twinkling in your eyes. No, maybe it wasn't the first time you've met a Deadpool. But this guy? He was the real deal. The original. How the hell did an original end up here?

"Pfft, you thought we were just drawings on paper? Two of the world's sexiest men in skintight costumes? Wrong. We're the real deal here, friendo. Can I call you that? Or will you try to kill me? You know I really didn't mean to crash into you I rea--"

"Alright, listen here. Wade, shut up. You," Logan pointed a finger at him then at you, still being embraced by Wade. "Do you understand any of the...nonsense he's talking about? Because I don't, and I don't. Have. Time for this. It's either you help me get out of here or get out of my way."

"Woah woah woah, since when did that 'we' turn into 'me'?" Wade reluctantly let go of you to walk up to Logan, his hands landing on his hips. "You're not the only one trapped here, you know, we're kind of all in the same boat here. We all fucked up our lives and it was definitely our fault bu--ACK"

You gasped, watching in horror as three silver claws stabbed straight through Wade's torso and out his back. Logan stalked closer, his scowl deepening. "Come again?" He taunted, his teeth grinding. Before Wade could get a word out, Logan turned his hand, twisting the blades inside of him.

"G-owww, FUCK. God, I swear this happened differently in another universe. Somehow hurts more this ti--" Logan stopped him again and began lifting him up in the air. By the torso. With his claws inside, being the only thing holding him up.

Your eyes widened, "Hey, guys stop that! Logan!"  You yelled, taking a step forward, your hands held up in the air defensively.

Logan briefly glanced in your direction and grunted, tossing Wade to the side. “Move aside, bub. We need to settle some things.” Then he…lunged at Wade. They just started fucking fighting each other.

You backed up, watching everything go down. This could not be real. “I thought…you guys wanted out?” You muttered, your voice barely heard over their grunting and blades clashing.

“You know it’s true, so--argh, no hard feelings, right? Plus, I forgive you Wolvie.”

“I don’t give a damn about what you think, Wade. It’s all your fucking fault I was dragged into this. I was doing just fine without yo—“

“Just fine? You call spending all your days at bars and drinking all their supply just fine? While your life crumbles around you like a house of cards. If we were really on the TVA's watchlist, maybe they should've just sent us all to anger management sessions, huh?"

“Stop fighting!” You shouted in a voice heavy with irritation, grabbing a clump of sand from the ground and hurling it in their direction.

Logan, reacting instinctively, closed his eyes and shoved Wade aside, now choking and coughing violently. “What the hell?”

Simultaneously, Wade spun to face away, retching into the sand. “Oh god it’s inside of my mask. It’s in my face hole—“

Logan regained himself quicker than Wade, to where he immediately brushed aside the sand on his face and stomped towards you. You took a step back, by the sight of his fists clenched and white knuckles you swore he was about to beat you. “Waitwaitwait! I don’t have healing factor!” You rambled and held your hands out.

He paused in his tracks, his jaw visibly clenching as he tried to control his anger. Yeah, maybe he was used to taking out his frustrations on himself and now..Deadpool. But he couldn’t do that to you. You’re not even involved in whatever shit they got themselves into. You didn't deserve to get roped in their..mess, whatever it was. He let out an annoyed breath and swiveled away, seething internally. "I wasn't going to hurt you."

You slowly put your hands down, then looked around to see Wade still rolling on the floor. Upon hearing Logan, he snapped his head towards you both, the eyes of his mask widening. Before he could even get a little, tiny, miniscule word out, you spoke.

"ANYWAY...ehm..you both want out, yes? This is all one big mistake? I could help you. I've survived out here this long without being brutally killed." You forced a grin, facing the two. They blinked.

"Killed? What..who is in charge of killing here?" Logan narrowed his eyes.

Wade stood up to his feet, popping his wrist back into place. "There's--" His face under his mask soured, god he could still feel the sand particles crunching around between his teeth.

"ugh, there's others around? What kind of crazies would wanna live here?" He raised his arms, gesturing the vastness of this dystopian desert. Camera pans out, there's an echo to his voice, a tumbleweed passes by, you know what i mean

You scoffed, still very much salty about your own situation even though it's been years. "It's not like it was a choice. The only person could who take us out is Cassandra Nova, and she does not use her powers for that. She's basically with the freaking TVA, from what I know."

A singular laugh escaped Logan, his lips turning up in a knowing smirk, "Really now? How bad could she be?"

"Uh..let's see..multiple counts of murder, enslavement, power abuse, she's sadistic, evil, has a whole paragraph worth of powers. Unstoppable, basically?" You shrugged.

"I think we could get along."

"No, Wade."

"How do we get to her?" Logan crossed his arms. Perhaps he was the only one taking this seriously. You had gotten used to it already, but you too remembered how badly you wanted to leave this place at first.

"You two seem in a rush. "

"Yeah, well we're in a rush because I've got a whole-ass timeline to save, not to mention I also made a pinky swear to this guy over here. I promised the gruff-beard that I'd help him clean up his messy timeline, like a stain of last nights left ove-"

"Got it!" You exclaimed, interrupting him. "But uh, is that even possible? To..fix your guys' timelines, I mean."

"It better be," Logan glared at Wade. "Because otherwise, I'm going to tear you apart." He sneered, really making his point by leaning closer to him. These guys need to kiss already.

You nervously smiled. If another fight starts, you swear you were going to start ripping your own face off. "Okay! I know someone, guys! We'll all help eachother out, he's real nice, which means you probably won't like him--but he'll help! Follow me."

Oh, you knew someone alright. He was the most suburban-canadian guy you knew.

Lot's of dialogue in this, oops. This fic is kinda going off the plot of the movie, so I'm sure you know who you'll meet next! Leave ideas in the comments if you have any, since this fic is very freestyle and let me now...should i include the car scene we all wanted or too soon? GOODBYE! taglist <3 : @pink-jello-fish @radiantdanvers @superlegend216 @salted-snailz @wolfsune09 @jxssimae @remuslupinsfavoritebook @flannelforthetoads @rowanlovesmoonknight @bengewatch @i-shall-be-the-possum1 @kyriekurokami @marymustdie @tzurue @euinein @sophiemajokie @itsrainingtodayyy

[cal-flakes]

dealer!rafe would be soooo pervy towards an innocent reader 😏😏 want to write this as a full fic desperately but i’m trying to get through blurbs so i’m sending you the idea to hold me over😋😋

your wish is my command beautiful. (you better tag me in that full fic when you post it or i’ll send you divorce papers)

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— the second that man laid eyes on you at one of his infamous tannyhill parties, mini skirt clinging to your eyes for dear life, eyes wide, lips plump and glossed, he absolutely had to know you— and know you he did.

rafe cameron; big bad rafe, spent the next couple months doing everything to be around you, savouring every bounce of your tits as you skipped towards him, buying you ice lollies just to ogle you as the juice dropped down your chin, wiping it off your lips with his thumb.

he’d invite you to every party, keeping you on his arm, giving you endless amounts of cocaine as long as he was the one rubbing it on your gums. “c’mere doll” he’d hum, hoisting you on his lap for everyone to see— you were untouchable, and you had no idea.

not a single piece of the puzzle was connecting for you, he was just your friend; your overly touchy, borderline creepy friend. “don’t say that! he’s just a nice guy!” you’d whine whenever it was brought up, whether you simply didn’t believe it, or just didn’t want to believe your so called friend had less than kind intentions, you didn’t know.

not only did he invite you to every party, he’d invite you everywhere— meetings with barry, days out on the boat, the country club.

he’d boast about his experiences with you, well— the ones he’d made up in his head. “you fucked her yet man?” topper would ask, raising a brow. “pfft— have i fucked her? chick might as well buy a leash for my cock, doesn’t let it outta her sight” he’d lie, signature smirk plastered on his face as he salivated at the though, planning and scheming just how he was going to make his words true.

[pretzel-box]

I need Sebastian's reaction to some divers flashing little octo boy🙏🏼🙏🏼

SQUIDDLE ME THAT

words: 2,1k

tags: octopus hybrid reader, platonic relationship with sebastian, sebastian gets protective

authors note: I wrote the part before the flashing scene yesterday and had to add your request at the end, hope you don't mind some extra content!

Having a little octopus hybrid running loose was a challenge on its own. God forbid that Sebastian take his three eyes off you for even a second—you'd either wilt from loneliness or start creating a mess in a bid to reclaim his attention.

One such instance involved you folding his newly sorted files into funny little paper boats, which you then gently rocked over a random puddle that had started to develop in the corner of his shop. The first time you did this, Sebastian was initially impressed that you'd found something to do on your own. He even joined in, taking a sheet of printed paper and folding it into a rather shoddy boat, chuckling until he realized—these were his important assets!

Sebastian learned quickly from that incident. He made it his mission to keep you occupied, providing you with paper and pencils to draw pictures instead. Soon, his shop was filled with your artwork, pinned up on every wall. He couldn’t help but find your efforts endearing—most of your drawings were of the two of you, and they filled his heart with a warmth he wasn't accustomed to feeling.

“You know, I think you're starting to develop an eye for ar—” Sebastian began to say, but as he turned around, you were gone. You had simply vanished from sight. However, the trail of suction-cup marks on the floor was a clear indicator that you'd slipped through the vent and were now somewhere outside the shop.

Panic surged through him as he quickly made his way out, calling your name and checking every room. You were small and had a short attention span—surely, you couldn’t have gotten far.

And then he saw it. You were standing face-to-face with a Squiddle. The scene was bizarre: the Squid Monster hovered slightly above the ground, its ‘eyes’ locked onto you with what could only be described as confusion. You, on the other hand, were trying to mimic the creature, leaping up and attempting to hover in the air, only to be defeated by gravity each time.

Sebastian froze for a moment, his panic shifting to a mix of concern and disbelief. The Squiddle seemed more perplexed than hostile, perhaps unsure of what to make of this smaller, more enthusiastic "squid" that was now mimicking its every move. You, in your innocent curiosity, were completely absorbed in your game of imitation, oblivious to the potential danger.

Sebastian approached cautiously, not wanting to startle either of you. “Hey, buddy,” he called softly, trying to get your attention without alarming the Squiddle. “What are you doing over there?”

You turned to him, eyes wide and full of excitement, as if proud of your new friend. Sebastian's heart skipped a beat seeing how happy you were, but he knew he had to get you away from the creature before anything went wrong.

“Come on,” he coaxed, holding out his hand. “Let’s leave the big guy alone, okay? We’ve got plenty of drawing to do back at the shop.”

Reluctantly, you took his hand, casting one last curious glance at the Squiddle before allowing Sebastian to lead you away. The creature watched you go, still floating in place, before it finally drifted off, no longer interested in the odd encounter.

Back at the shop, Sebastian let out a deep sigh of relief. He knelt down to your level, ruffling the top of your head gently. “You’ve really got a knack for finding trouble, you know that?”

You gave him a sheepish grin, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “Alright, how about we stick to drawing for a while, huh? Maybe we can work on some more pictures of us. Just... let’s keep the paper boats on hold for now, okay?”

You nodded eagerly, and Sebastian led you back inside, silently vowing to keep an even closer eye on you from now on.

Sebastian! You there?” a male voice called out as a customer clambered through the vent. Sebastian, already familiar with the type of people who usually wandered into his shop—rude pricks deserving their prison sentences—acted quickly. Without a second thought, he wrapped you in a blanket and gently but hurriedly stuffed you into a spacious locker, hiding you from the potentially mean human.

“Ah, welcome~” he greeted the customer with an air of nonchalance, shifting into his usual role as a shopkeeper. He led the man through a small conversation, maintaining his outward calm even though his thoughts were with you.

Meanwhile, inside the locker, you pressed your arms and tentacles against the metal walls, trying to push your way back to Sebastian. The dark, cramped space fueled a growing sense of anxiety. You didn’t understand why he’d suddenly hidden you away like this. Did you do something wrong? Did he stop liking you?

Fear and confusion spiraled in your little head until they became too much to bear. The only logical response, as far as you were concerned, was to scream. Tears streamed down your face as you wailed loudly, feeling abandoned and terrified. The darkness was cold, and being alone felt like the worst punishment imaginable.

Sebastian, who was busy trying to offload some junk onto the prisoner, froze when your piercing scream cut through the conversation. The customer blinked in surprise, glancing toward the sound. “What the hell was that?”

Sebastian’s mind raced as he tried to think of a plausible excuse. “Uh, faulty alarm system,” he lied, forcing a smile. “This place is falling apart, you know? I’ll get it fixed. Now, about that flashlight you were interested in…”

But the scream came again, louder this time, filled with pure distress. Sebastian’s heart clenched with guilt. The customer raised an eyebrow but seemed more annoyed than concerned. “You might want to take care of that. Sounds like something’s dying in there.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll handle it,” Sebastian muttered, barely containing his irritation as he hurried the man toward the exit. “Thanks for stopping by, and don’t forget to tell your non-existing friends about the shop!”

As soon as the customer was out of sight, Sebastian practically “sprinted” back to the locker. Your cries were breaking his heart—he hadn’t meant to scare you, but in his haste to protect you, he’d overlooked how you’d feel being stuffed in there.

He flung the locker door open and immediately pulled you out, wrapping you in his arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, holding you close as you continued to sob. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You clung to him desperately, burying your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. Sebastian felt like the worst person in the world for making you feel this way. “I was just trying to keep you safe,” he explained softly, rubbing your back in soothing circles. “I didn’t want that guy to see you. But I shouldn’t have locked you up like that. I’m sorry.”

Gradually, your sobs began to quiet, though you still held onto him tightly, afraid he might push you away again. Sebastian continued to whisper apologies and reassurances, promising that he would never do something like that again.

Finally, you lifted your head, looking at him with tear-streaked eyes. “You’re okay,” he said gently, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you.”

Your grip on him tightened, and Sebastian could feel the tremble in your small body slowly subside. He stood there for a long moment, holding you close, letting you know through his actions that you were safe and loved.

After a while, he carried you over to a cushioned seat, sitting down with you still wrapped in his arms. “You’re my little partner, okay?” he said, his voice softer than usual. “I’m always going to take care of you. Just… no more screaming like that, alright? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

You nodded weakly, sniffling but feeling a bit better now that you were back in his comforting embrace. Sebastian gave a small, relieved smile, brushing your hair away from your face. “That’s better,” he said, rocking you gently. “Let’s just stay here for a while. No more hiding, I promise.”

——

It was an unusually busy day in the shop, with a steady stream of prisoners coming through the vents, all of them more obnoxious than the last. Sebastian had been on edge, keeping a close eye on you as you busied yourself with drawing on a scrap of paper behind some boxes to hide you out of the sight from the visitors. He didn’t want a repeat of the locker incident, so he made sure you were always within arm’s reach.

But even Sebastian couldn’t anticipate everything.

As a particularly rough-looking prisoner stomped into the shop, his eyes darting around suspiciously, you instinctively curled a little closer to Sebastian. The man was big, with a scarred face and a sneer that made your skin crawl. Sebastian noticed your discomfort and subtly shifted his body to block the prisoner’s view of you.

“What do you want?” Sebastian asked, his tone curt and to the point.

The prisoner didn’t answer right away, his gaze flicking over the various items on the shelves. “Just browsing,” he muttered, though there was a malicious glint in his eyes that set off alarm bells in Sebastian’s head.

Sebastian’s grip tightened on the counter. “We don’t have all day. Either buy something or get out.”

The prisoner’s sneer widened, clearly enjoying the tension he was causing. As if on a whim, he suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device—a flashbeacon. Before Sebastian could react, the prisoner activated it, directing the blinding flash of light straight at you.

You let out a terrified yelp, your sensitive eyes overwhelmed by the sudden burst of light. Instinctively, you tried to shield yourself, curling up and covering your eyes with your tentacles as best as you could. But the damage was done—the intense flash had disoriented you, leaving you scared and vulnerable.

Sebastian’s protective instincts kicked in instantly. Without a second thought, he lunged forward, shoving the prisoner hard against the nearest wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he snarled, his voice dripping with fury.

The prisoner barely had time to register what was happening before Sebastian’s hand was around his throat, pinning him to the wall with a strength that belied his usually calm demeanor. “You think you can just walk in here and pull something like that?” Sebastian growled, his three eyes narrowing dangerously. “You’ve got some nerve.”

The prisoner, now realizing he’d severely miscalculated, struggled to speak, his face turning red as he choked out, “It… it was just a joke!”

Sebastian’s grip tightened, making it clear he wasn’t amused. “That ‘joke’ could have seriously hurt them,” he spat, nodding toward you. “You don’t mess with my shop, and you sure as hell don’t mess with them.”

With a final shove, Sebastian released the prisoner, who staggered back, clutching his throat and gasping for air. “Get out,” Sebastian ordered, his voice low and menacing. “And if I ever see you here again, you’ll regret it.”

The prisoner didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled for the vent, shooting one last fearful glance at Sebastian before disappearing as quickly as he’d come.

Sebastian took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger still coursing through his veins. Then he turned to you, his expression softening as he saw you huddled on the floor, still reeling from the flash.

He rushed over to you, kneeling down and gently pulling your tentacles away from your eyes. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, his heart aching at the sight of you trembling. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry, but you could see the concern etched on his face. Slowly, you uncurled from your protective ball, reaching out for him. Sebastian didn’t hesitate—he scooped you up into his arms, holding you close against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret. “I should’ve protected you better. But I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

You clung to him, your small body still trembling slightly, but his warmth and the steady beat of his heart began to calm you down. You knew Sebastian was strong, and as long as you were with him, you felt safe.

[eiraeths]

Penpals Ghost and Soap who met through an anonymous support group system for enlisted soldiers. Ghost didn’t want to join initially but some pushing from Price and he gave in. He didn’t expect much to come from it, a few letters here and there that’d eventually taper off and him and whoever his penpal was would forget about each other soon after.

Only that didn’t happen.

Ghost didn’t expect the person who wrote the letter to be in the same boat as him, sharing the same frustrations about support groups full of people trying to keep their head above the water, only to be organized and run by people trying to keep their head above the water. He didn’t expect himself to pick up a pen and start writing a response letter after reading the most horrid pun he’d ever rested his eyes on.

He didn’t expect to enjoy it, let alone want to know more about this Soap guy. More and more letters are sent and received and somehow, they integrate into his daily routine. He looks forward to the letters arriving twice a month. He never knew he could anticipate something.

Soap likes loud things, Ghost learns. Music, cars, explosions, any and everything loud. He has gym routines and lists upon lists of everything he does. He adores math and chemistry—for reasons Ghost can’t wrap his head around—and always goes on long-winded tangents about his day.

Ghost thinks he likes Soap.

One letter comes with a photo. A printed out polaroid with the center focus being on man with a mohawk. Soap says they’ve been talking long enough, and Ghost might as well know what he looks like.

Ghost didn’t expect for himself to track down a photo printing camera and send one back—no mask present—nor did he expect for Soap to call him cute. No one knew, but he kept the photo tucked into his plate carrier on every op. And he sure as hell didn’t expect to find himself flustered over some damn words.

A few years go by without a day missed. Ghost didn’t expect for Soap to miss sending a letter. Then two.

He didn’t expect to go to the mail room and his dread turn to excitement when he saw a letter addressed to him. Only to turn to dread when opening the letter to different handwriting, and knowing what happened, knowing Soap was dead the moment he didn’t see chicken scratch capital letters or random marks on the paper from where soap would tap his pencil while thinking.

He didn’t expect to feel this much grief over someone he never met in person. Didn’t expect to feel this much grief over what could’ve been, might’ve been if they had just met up.

[shimmeringpinksunflowers]

Daisuke (Mouthwashing) dating HCs

On the Tuplar

so let's say you guys meet on the ship, you hit if off and you guys start being a thing, great!

However, the 'dating' part is a little tricky

There's only one location and that's the Tuplar

Two if you count his bedroom

We all know this guy tries to make the best out of a bad situation, so what does he do?

Probably invite you to the dining area to watch the sunset on the monitor over a cup of chicken ramen cup soup

It's probably as romantic as it gets with the resources on the ship

But it's the thought that counts, and honestly, you've probably had worse dates

You two get all cuddly and talk about whatever, conversations feel easy, you almost forget about the situation y'all are in

Has begged Curly for permission to make you a cake

he also shares his extra sweetner packets with you

Other than that, I think a lot of dates are just you guys chilling in each other's rooms (got a real friends-to-lovers vibe from this)

You watch him play on his game boy and cheer him on or you play paper games like naughts and crosses, hangman or exquisite corpse

If you've brought any books with you, you guys read them together

or if you've downloaded any films or tv shows you watch them together

I think you guys talk about the future a lot, like what life will be like off the ship. it's all hypothetical, so you can have fun with it, but you can tell when Daisuke is being kind of serious about it

he'll just be like 'yeah, that will look great in our house by the beach'

and you'll be like ??? what do you mean 'our' house?

He just knows you're the one, so there's no point in trying to hide the fact he wants a future with you

You also talk about family, not necessarily having one, but family drama

future ambitions, passions, hobbies etc.

This guy lives for the soft physical affections, which I believe is his second love language to words of affirmations

head pats, arm touches, hand holding sweet hugs, small kisses

Will write small notes and leave them in your ship to find with a little doodle

On Earth

if you're on earth, now that's a different story

I'm not sure how this scenario plays out, like if you meet before the pony express or continue to hang out after

either way

I can see this guy loving outside dates more than indoor ones

like, don't get me wrong, the guy is always down for a good movie night or just watching tv while eating take out

But Daisuke strikes me as someone who likes to enjoy the outdoors

First thing that comes to mind is beach dates

picnic beach dates <3

just you guys, the waves, some good food, you in swimwear 👀👀👀👀👀

He’d try to keep his cool, but the poor boy can't keep his mouth shut

and if it's later in that day, he'll try and do a little bonfire and roast something

I also see him being a big fan of arcade dates

tries to win all the tickets for you

defiantly tried to win you something from the claw machine

On a related note, he's totally into carnival dates

LOVES cottan candy

loves the fast rides, but is totally a sucker for the whole 'kiss on the top of the ferris wheel' thing

looks at you the same way Flynn looks at Rapunzel on the boat

Given his doodle habit, he’d probably love a DIY or creative date

painting together and making crafts

Random little surprises, like notes hidden in your bag or flowers picked during a walk

Tried to cook you dinner once

almost burnt down half the kitchen, but it ended up turning out not bad

he swear's he'll get better

[gallusrostromegalus]

You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:

How did folks react to the moon landing?

"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.

Especially when it's a kid.

"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."

"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"

"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"

"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.

"Yeah!"

Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"

---

The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.

"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"

"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.

"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.

"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"

"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.

Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.

"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"

"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.

"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"

"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"

There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).

"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.

---

"No." Grunted Mayuri.

"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.

"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"

"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."

"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.

"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.

"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.

"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.

"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."

Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.

"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"

"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.

"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."

Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.

"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.

"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.

"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."

"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.

"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"

"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.

"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"

"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.

"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."

"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.

"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.

"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."

"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"

"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.

"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.

---

Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-

"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.

"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."

"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."

"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"

"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.

Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"

"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"

"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.

"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.

"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.

"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."

"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."

"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"

"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."

"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.

"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.

"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.

Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."

"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"

"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.

"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"

"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.

The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.

"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."

"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

On Galadriel’s Whitewashing by the Fandom

Allow me to rant. Because at this point I really have to ask this: what show have you all been watching? Many say that Sauron deceives the audience, but it was actually Galadriel who deceived you all, really.

In Season 1 and Season 2, we saw Galadriel using others left and right, for her own ends (including Halbrand, Míriel, Adar, etc.). Her character introduction in Season 1, was her beating the sh*t out of some kids over a paper boat. Then, we saw her treating her companions’ lives as if they meant nothing to her. This alone should tell you something, but no, you wanted to see the “feminist hero” that never was. She was acting like... Sauron, when he ditched the humans on the raft. 

Nah, you think?

Throughout Season 1, she was arrogant, high on herself and downright offensive to pretty much every character she came across. She was constantly acting as if she was better than everyone else, and others were beneath her, because of her delusions of grandeur. She disobeys Gil-galad over and over again because she doesn’t truly recognize his authority. He’s younger than her, and in her mind she’s the one who should be High Queen of the Noldor, because she’s the only surviving child of High King Finarfin. She lied and manipulated others to her own ends... like Sauron.

When your ways of manipulation are more radical than Sauron’s.

Allow me to say this once more: “Rings of Power” has Tolkien experts to assist with the writings of the scripts. Christian doctrine and preaching is a huge deal on Tolkien’s work, and even if the show producers don’t see it or don’t recognize it, it’s still there because it’s inevitable, you can't work Tolkien without it.

What does this mean? Galadriel is not a hero. Pride and greed are not good traits in Tolkien lore. She’s not one of the “good guys”. Not yet, and she’ll only get worse before she gets better. She’s not a villain, either; she’s an anti-hero like Adar. Why do you all think Satan’s little helper Sauron got so interested in her, in the first place? 

When Sauron of all characters gives you the side-eye and tells you to chill and tone down your antagonistic behavior.

And was she deceived by Sauron or did she deceive herself? Because Elrond, as usual, is right, and that’s why he calls her out on her bullsh*t in Season 2: Galadriel wanted the lost king who could ride her to victory, to destroy Sauron and cover herself in glory, being worshipped by everyone on Middle-earth as its savior. She wanted to use Halbrand as a pawn in her big plan, and it’s mind blowing she actually fell in love with him. Does this ring any bells? It’s because it’s Sauron’s plan, too. They are alike. Everyone agrees, but doesn’t realize just how much.

You think they showed us these glorious shots of them for “good” reasons? This is the first of Mairon’s deceptions on Season 1, another step closer to evil and his old ways. This is them high on power and on themselves.

Gil-galad foresaw that Galadriel would bring back Sauron if her pursuit for him would to continue. That’s why he sent her back to Valinor, in the first place. Guess what? He was right. It was Galadriel’s actions that condemned Middle-earth to Sauron’s tyranny. In the legendarium, the Elves are also the ones to blame. And what consequences did she faced for this? Enduring Elrond in charge for two episodes until she went rogue? Or perhaps the Valar have already banished her, and the show failed to mention this. 

Preach it, brother!

Elrond was also the only character who could see through Sauron’s “rings of power” masterplan (must be that Melian’s Maia blood kicking in), until he was deceived himself, as well, and now he also thinks the rings are a good thing. Because these rings allowed the Elves to “cheat death” and stay where they don’t belong. “Rings of Power” made this point very clear in Season 1: the Southlanders don’t want the Elves on their lands, they are invaders.

In truth, all of these characters are not only Sauron’s accomplices, but are feeding off his power, but they are acting as if they are the “good guys” here, and they need to save Middle-earth from the new Dark Lord. No wonder the Valar told them to f*ck off, and only sent a few helpers who didn’t even dealt with Sauron directly, even though they (being Maiar themselves) had the power to do that.

Long story, short: for the love of Eru, stop whitewashing Galadriel’s character, or believing her to be some sort of “Virgin Mary” nonsense type of character. Or if you actually think her behavior is somehow heroic I don’t even know what to tell you, honestly. Because it’s not suppose to be. And if you were upset with her “toning down” in Season 2, oh boy, I might have bad news for you.

We should appreciate Galadriel’s character for what it is; an anti-hero seeking redemption. She f*cks up a lot, is flawed, and makes huge mistakes, and that’s what will make her character arc feel earned and compelling. In that way, she’s the opposite of Sauron; as he falls into evil, she raises up to good; the Lady of Light and the Dark Lord. This is actually refreshing in the midst of so many boring-ass one-dimensional female characters we see nowadays, an ideal of perfection no one can relate to.

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Twelve

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky and Jake tiptoe around each other; Bob attends Ducky's 20 week scan

WC: 1.3K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

The apartment was empty when you returned. Just a note on the counter. 

Staying at Bradshaw’s for the night

– J

You sighed and put your purse down. It was what you had wanted. So why didn’t it feel good to win? 

***

Jake spent half of the night pacing Bradley’s house, a small bungalow near the beach. At around three in the morning, Bradley emerged in a pair of boxers and no shirt, rubbing his eyes. “Hangman?” 

Jake turned, bags starting to form under his eyes. 

“You OK man?” Bradley asked, standing in the doorway to the living room. 

Jake shook his head. “Yeah, sorry, didn’t realize I was being loud.” 

Bradley sagged against the wood frame. “It’s Y/N isn’t it?” 

He nodded. “Always.” 

“When are you gonna admit you’re into her?” 

Jake stopped dead in his tracks. “What?” 

“We all talk about it all the time,” Bradley said, crossing his arms. “You like her. She liked you enough to sleep with you. And now here you are kissing random girls in the bar and she’s running off crying.” 

“She cried?” 

“No, she peed on the sand, but same thing.” 

Jake frowned. “What? How is that the same?” 

“It just is, OK.” Bradley shook his head. 

Jake squinted. “You guys don’t actually talk about us, do you?” 

“Come on,” Bradley said. “I know you’re more self absorbed than that.” 

“She doesn’t want me,” he said quietly. “She told me to go out and see other people.” Jake paused. “She said she would, too, if it didn’t look so weird, with the baby and all.” 

Bradley rolled his eyes and turned to go. “You two are so fucking stupid, I swear.” 

***

Bob picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” 

“Bobby,” you said into the phone. “Will you come to my appointment with me today?” 

“I, uh, what time is it at?” 

“Four.” 

“OK, yeah, I can do that. Pick you up at 3:30 from work?” 

“Yes, please.” 

There was a moment of silence where you both knew what the other was thinking. He wanted to know why you had asked him. You didn’t want him to tell Jake. 

“See you soon, Duck,” he said, hanging up the phone and you let out a sigh of relief. 

That afternoon, you sat in a paper gown on the medical table as Bob sat in the chair near the door, bouncing his leg in his green flight suit. “You smell like gasoline,” you complained. “It’s making me want to throw up.” 

“I didn’t have time to change,” he replied, leg still bouncing. 

“Stop jiggling, you’re making me nauseous.” 

“Will you stop complaining when the baby comes?” 

“No, it’ll just be a new set of complaints.” 

“Lucky me.” 

There was a knock and then the door opened. “Y/N? How are you?” 

“Doing OK,” you replied, shifting your weight from one hip. “This is my brother, Bob.” 

“Ma’am,” he said, standing up and holding out a hand. She took it and smiled. 

“Dr. Whitman. Nice to meet you.” She walked over to the sink and washed her hands before pulling on a pair of gloves. “So, twenty weeks. Halfway there.” 

“Thank God,” you muttered. 

The doctor laughed. “Any trouble sleeping or heartburn or indigestion.” 

“Whatever you name, I’ve got it.” 

She smiled. “Well, I can give you a prescription for some heartburn medication. If you want to just pull your shirt up, we can take a look to see how baby is doing.” 

You inched the edge of your paper dress up, the roundness of your stomach shocking every time you caught a glimpse. The jelly was cold, as always, and you found yourself holding your breath as she moved the wand around until you heard it. 

The steady beat of your baby’s heart. 

“Strong heartbeat,” the doctor said. “Baby is about seven inches.” She turned to you. “Do you want to know the gender?” 

You looked over at Bob, who had climbed out of his seat and was standing next to the table, one of his hands on your shoulder. “Bobby?” 

“I’m here.” 

You sucked in a deep breath. “Yes, I’d like to know.” 

“It’s a girl.” 

You closed your eyes. It was overwhelming. You couldn’t put into words how you felt. 

And then you felt a tear fall on your shoulder. But it wasn’t yours. When you opened your eyes, Bob was crying. 

He pressed his lips to your temple, arms wrapped around your shoulders. “A girl,” he whispered, tears and laughter caught in his throat all at once. 

You placed your hands on either side of your belly button and closed your eyes. 

***

When you got home, you taped the sonogram to the fridge. Jake had returned from Bradley’s, but the two of you had been frosty. A simple hello or excuse me as you passed each other in the living room. It was like living with a complete stranger. 

You didn’t want to freeze him out. But whenever you went to talk to him, the image of him with the girl in the bar came to mind and you felt bile rising in your throat. There was a part of you, somewhere buried, that wanted Jake Seresin for yourself. 

For your daughter. 

At twenty weeks, you already had trouble sleeping. After an hour of tossing and turning, you got up and eased open the door, rubbing your eyes as you headed for the kitchen in a skimpy nightgown. 

As you rounded the corner into the kitchen, Jake stood facing the fridge, completely still. He barely moved when you entered, stopping short the minute you saw him. 

“Oh.” It fell out of your mouth before you could even stop it. 

Jake turned, slowly. There were bags beneath his eyes. His normally golden skin looked sallow. His hair, always so perfectly tousled, had lost some of its luster. “When was the appointment?” he asked. 

“Yesterday.” 

“You didn’t want me there.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. There was pain laced in every word. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to be there.” 

Jake’s face hardened. You watched in real time. The way his green eyes went dark and the hands at his sides flexed into fists. “Don’t you understand, Y/N, that it my child you’re carrying. Mine. Of course I wanted to be there. But you wouldn’t let me. Because you’re punishing me.” 

“I’m not punishing you.” 

“Yes you are!” It came out as a roar. You stepped back, one hand over your stomach. Jake’s eyes dropped to your hand. “I’m sorry.” It was a plea. Soft and gravely and depressed. “I fucked up, OK. This is so fucked up.” 

“My next appointment is in a month,” you replied softly. “Do you want to come with?” 

Jake lifted his eyes to yours. “Yes.” 

“OK,” you replied. “Can I?” You motioned to the fridge and Jake nodded, stepping aside as you grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the door filter. 

“Goodnight,” Jake said, backing out of the kitchen as you closed the fridge door, the slice of light growing thinner and thinner until it disappeared and the two of you were bathed in darkness, just the diagonal strip of moonlight shining from the window above the sink. 

“Jake?” 

“Yeah?” 

You smiled. “It’s a girl.” 

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @withahappyrefrain @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @gigisimsonmars @xomrsalliej4787xo @myfaveficrecs @mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @je-suis-prest-rachel @shanimallina87

@rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @boiolay @sometimesanalice @na-ta-sh-aa @bobfloydsbabe @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @palepeanutponyshoe @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @mel119g @daggerspare-standingby @grxcisxhy-wp @mrsjobarnes @csmt-m @rockbottompunk-blog @joaquinwhorres @xoxabs88xox @spinning-away

[jazziejax]

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐌𝐬.𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

Pairings- Black!OC x Abbott Elementary Cast, later Black!OC x Manny (Can be read as x Reader though!)

Summary- Pilot Episode Experience with Naoya Lovel

Warnings- Swearing, kids, mixed race reader( those aren’t warnings really, just what to expect)

Jazzie’sNotes!- let me know what you guys think!! I’ve been really obsessed with Abbott Elementary recently and I’m contemplating if I want to write S1&S2 just to get to the Manny season. I want to get there fast but I know what won’t be possible with two seasons worth of writing. Let me know what you guys think I should do.

Word Count- 6,358

“Okay, so you wouldn't put the number on the bottom because that's what?” The older woman asked, drawing out her words as she stood in front of her fourth-grade class, pointing at the whiteboard behind her with her yardstick.

“The denominator.” The class answered.

“Correct, and what do we call the one on top?”

“The numerator.”

“Yes! You guys are killing this lesson.” She smiled as she placed her hands on her hips. She caught the camera crew in the corner of her eyes and then turned to them. “Or should I say I’m killing this lesson?” She smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she posed. It was silent for a moment as they all watched her just smile.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” She’s asked, looking at one of the guys behind the camera. He nodded, moving the camera along with him, causing her to smile and adjust her glasses. “Why, thank you.”

“Hello! My name is Naoya Lovel. Pronounced Now-Ya, it’s Japanese because I’m half Japanese. Don’t ask why I’m half Japanese in Philly, it’s a long story.” She sighed as she shook her head.

“Well, actually, let me tell you the story because it’s actually kind of crazy.” She chuckled, starting to explain, but it then cut to another clip of her in the class.

“Ms.Lovel, we ran out of paper towels.” A student said, standing in front of her desk with paint on the palms of his hands. Noaya looked up, at him, a slight frown on her face. “Ohh, okay, well I have some in my desk.” She started, pulling open her desk drawer. The camera angled down to catch the empty towel box staring back at her. She smirked up at them awkwardly and shrugged her shoulders. “What, I have a constant runny nose.”

“As a teacher, you teach kids how to solve problems while solving your own. In your personal life and at school. And in this school, there are a lot.”

“Ms.Lovel, I need paper towels too.” Another student said, showing her blue and pink palms to her teacher. Noaya then stood from her seat, looking around her room. “Okay, okay class. Give me one sec.” She said, nervously looking around her room to solve her paper towel problem. She the. Saw a stray beach towel near the window on her small bookshelf. “Oh! Here we are, guys.” She said, rushing over to the towel and snatching it up.

“This could be a lesson too.” She smiled excitedly and grabbed a pair of large scissors from her desk. “I probably shouldn’t have these just sitting out.” She mumbled to herself, giving the camera a sideways glance. “So class, this is going to be a hands-on moment. If there are almost thirty of you, how many pieces would I need to cut this into for you guys to share?” She asked, looking at all of them. There was a moment before anyone said anything, the kids thinking over their answer. Then, some of their hands shot up. Naoya flashed the cameras behind her a quick smile before turning back to the kids.

“Noaya, Jacob, and I came in last year with 20 other teachers. We’re three of the four left so…trauma bonding, I guess?” Janine said, in regards to the other girl.

“Yeah, I taught for two years before I got here, I transferred from Addington to here because those people are a bunch of stuck-up freaks who are just in it for a little extra on their check.” She said with a smirk. “And that’s not what I’m here for, I’m here to change lives.” She boated, folding her arms.



“Hey, Melissa, can you please tell “Ta-Nehisi Quotes” here that “white boy” is a term of endearment from the corner store people?” Janie said as she walked into the break room on the second floor.

“Ooh, cheese steaks?” Naoya questioned as she looked up from her papers, knowing the full situation after only hearing the words ‘white boy’ and ‘corner store’.”

“For Zach Ertz, yeah.” Melissa started, turning around with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. “For him. It’s an insult.” She smirked, then paused at the sight of the cameras in her face.

“Well, you guys, I need a new rug. Mine is officially done.” Janie said.” Coming take a seat right next to the working woman.

“Mhmm! Me too.” Jacob started, taking a seat on the other side of her. “I shook mine out and all the asthma kids had to go to the nurse's office.” This conversation caused her to raise her head, placing her work aside and adjusting her glasses as she listened.

“Yeah, mine’s busted.” Melissa started. “And you can’t class up a rug like you can a couch with a nice coat of plastic.”

“You guys have rugs? All we have is a little mat.” Naoya started, looking between all of them. They all cringed at her words, but couldn’t say more before someone’s loud voice cut through the air.

“Hey-yo! What it does, baby-boo?” Ava yelled as she walked into the break room and over to where they were sitting. “What yall think about this little film crew I bought in here.”

“Distracting makes our jobs harder,” Melissa said disinterestedly, shooting the crew a glare.

“I wish I would have known this was going to be a video thing, I would have made myself look better,” Naoya mumbled, causing the camera to turn her way. She smiled, making her face appear happier than usual.

“But exciting. We about to be on TV.” Ava said, looking between them all.

“Because they are covering underfunded, loosely managed, public schools in America.” Barbra interrupted in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No press is bad press, Barb.” Ava practically disregarded the woman’s claim, continuing to smile at the camera. “Look at Mel Gibson. Still thriving.” She laughed. “ “Daddy’s Home 2”? Hilarious!” She looked around the room, either expecting people to laugh with or or just so confined in her large ego that she didn’t care if they laughed or not.

“Ava’s the worst person I know,” Noaya stated. “I’ve never seen her show an ounce of care about anything other than money. Which is a terrible mindset to have as a principal because you’re literally in the brokeest position of power.”

“There you are.” Ms.Schwartz sighed as she rushed into the room, spotting Ava. “Ava, can I talk to you?” The woman was out of breath as she stood before the principal, and her attire was disheveled. “I-I need an aid. I’m outnumbered there. The kids are crazy.” She ranted this wild look in her eyes. “One of the kids told me to ‘mind my six’ this morning, I don’t know what that means! I need help!” She ranted. Ava placed and hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down.” The darker woman said, cutting Ms. Schwartz off. “They’re just kids. And, besides, aids cost money, and we don’t have that.” She said before flashing a quick smile at the cameras. “Right, but I just—” Ms. Schwartz started again.

“Do you want to split your salary with somebody else?” Ava asked, leaning closer and angling both of them away from the cameras.

“No.” The other woman said dejected.

“No!” Ava cut her off before she could continue to rant. “No, I didn’t think so.”

“Well, if we can’t get aides, maybe we can get new rugs?” Janine chimed up, standing from her seat.

“All I’m hearing is “new, new, new, need, need, need,” Ava answered. “And yet, Barb, one of our best and most senior teachers here.” She continued, walking over to the older woman who sat at the table with Melissa and drank her coffee. “She never complains. What is your secret, Barb?”

“Knowing there’s not much you can do, Ava.” The woman said with a sarcastic smile. But Ava didn’t care to hear her condescending tone.

“So understanding.” The principal smiled, looking around the room. “Be like Ms.Howard, people.” That was all she said before she left the room.

Noaya shook her head as she started to collect her things, knowing the bell would be ringing anytime soon.

“But, I’m not Ms.Howard.” Ms.Schwartz cried from where she stood.

“Ohh, Tina, look.” Janine started, walking over to the stressed woman. “Try some counting exercises, between one and forty the kids start to quiet down.” The other woman gave a slight nod before she exited the room, still in obvious distress. “You, know, a little support might help make things happen, ladies,” Janie said, turning around to face the older two women in the room.

“My support was gonna do about as much as that five-year-old bra you’ve got on right there,” Barbra said as she pushed in her chair. The camera then cuts to Naoya staring at the camera, her jaw clenched. Janine looked down at her chest for a slip second, before covering it up with her sweater and deciding to ignore the woman’s bra statement. “Hey, it’s not impossible to get things. Melissa asked for those new toy cash registers for her classroom and got them.”

“Yeah, those aren’t toys.” The Italian woman stared as she put on her coat. “I know a guy who wired a Walmart demolition. I got a guy for everything. I know a guy right now working on the stadium build. Need rebar?” She asked, looking around the room.

Noya just shook her head.

“No,” Janine answered.

“Melissa is resourceful, capable.” Ms. Howard started, looking between all the younger teachers. Naoya’shead jerked back at what she was insinuating but before she could say anything, Janine placed a hand on her shoulder and started talking.

“Well, I think the younger teachers are capable.”

“Really? Then why is it that Ms.Schwartz’s hair is falling out? Why does Jacob here need a smoking break every five minutes?” The woman sassed, gesturing over to the male beside her.

“I switched to an herbal vape.” He tried to defend himself.

“And why can’t any of you stick it out longer than two years? More turnovers than a bakery.” She hissed before her and Melissa walked out of the door. Once it shut behind them, Naoya turned to her friends beside her.

“I almost lose my job every day dealing with the people here.” She shook her head, resting her butt on the table behind her, the other two following suit.

“You know what? Hell, I think we should still try for rugs.” Jacob’s said.

“Yeah.” Janine agreed.

“You know, before I taught here, I was in Zimbabwe.” Jacob started, causing Noaya to stand up completely and begin to walk to the door. “I was going Teachers Without Boarders, and what I learned—.”

“Jacob.” Noaya cut in, turning to face the two of them. “What did we say you about, like, not talking about your time in Africa?” She said, gesturing between her and Janine. The boy stuttered, trying to come up with an appropriate answer.

“We told you to stop. Yeah, it’s weird.” Janine finished, looking over at the male.

“I have an immense amount of respect for my elders, including the ones I work with.” Naoya smiled at the cameras. “But Mrs.Howard has a smart mouth on her. A mouth that has never been directed at me.” She continued to smile, although strained, and raised her hands in mock defense. “But the day it is the day I got to prison.” And although she was finished, she was cut off by the sound of quick hurried footsteps making their way around the corner. She turned around just in time to catch Janine with a student.

“Noaya, come quick, there’s a fight.” The older woman got out as best as she could, although out of breath. Naoya ran around the corner, practically leaving the child and shirt woman in the dust.

“Damn, she’s fast,” Janine said, briefing glancing at the kids next to her before rushing to follow the running woman.

“What the hell is going on here?” Naoya yelled as she entered the hectic scene with a bat in her hands. She saw the crazed look the teachers were giving her and she shrugged. “I heard there was a fight, I brought it just in case.”

“Where did you get that? I was right behind you.” Janie asked, out of breath with her hands on her knees.

“I didn’t know she had it in her like that.” Melissa nodded a proud smirk on her lips. “I like her.”

“That’s beside the point, what happened?” Naoya asked, looking at the older white woman standing in front of a child. “He hit me first!” Ms.Schwartz said, pointing at the boy across from her.

“Liar!” The boy yelled back at her, being held back by Ms.Howard.

“I’m a liar? I'M A LIAR?” Ms.Schwartz asked a crazed look in her eyes, her gaze solely trained on the little boy.

“I can’t believe she hit a kid,” Noaya said, shock written all over her face as she folded her arms. “I mean, I threaten that I will but I never actually do it.” She shrugged.

“Okay!” Ava yelled, interrupting the conversation between the small group of teachers. “So, not good. Ms.Schwartz was out of line and clearly didn’t know how to handle her class.” The woman sighed.

“You hired her.” Melissa spat back.

“And fired her,” Ava responded. “They give me a lot of power around here. It’s crazy.” The woman smirked.

Melissa and Noaya both gave the camera a look of disbelief.

“In the meantime, Mr.Johnson will be watching her class.” Ava finished.

“Mr.Johnson the janitor?” Naoya spoke up. “Our conspiracy theorist janitor? Teaching social studies? Do we not see the problem with this?” She asked, looking around at the group.

“I think maybe we should alert the school district to this,” Jacob spoke up, getting spins of approval from the rest. “I mean, a child was harmed.” He tried to finish before Ava cut in.

“Hey! Harmed?” She questioned. “I handled this. No need to let them know that a child was harmed on my wa—” She stopped, remembering that she was being recorded, and looked towards the camera. “On the school's watch, to be clear.” She clarified.

“Ava, this is not handled,” Janine spoke up. “There is a 70-year-old custodian who voted for Kanye teaching social studies right now.” The woman stressed, pointing down the hall. “We need help. Look, I know we don’t have any money—“

“Okay!” Ava cut her off. “Alright. I’ll make a small emergency budget request to the district, and then you guys can get pencils and hire aides or whatever else you need.”

“So, even rugs?” Janine asked her entire demeanor from earlier changing at the woman’s words.

“Sure! Just email a request.” Ava replied.

“Okay! I can- I can write an email.” Janine smiled excitedly.”

“Another day in principal life.” Ava smiled at the cameras before walking away, horribly singing some old song. “I believe the children are our future.”

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“Um…Hello?” An unfamiliar voice called out as she came into the school building, making their way to stand in front of the desk. “I’m looking for Ms.Coleman.” The man said. Melissa looked up at him. “Oh, yeah she’s—“ She was cut off by Ava rushing up next to her.

“Hello.” Again said flirtatiously, looking the man up and down.

“Hi, I’m Gregory Eddie. I’m the sun for the teacher who, uh…” He trailed off, looking down at the papers he pulled from his briefcase. “Pinter a student.” The man said worriedly, looking back up at her.

“Oh! You’re the sub.” Ava said. “Forgive me, I thought one of my colleagues here hired a stripper for me.” Ava laughed off, dismissing the looks Melissa and Barbra gave her. “Okay.” That was all Gregory could say to that, giving the woman obvious judgmental looks.

“Nice to meet you, young man.” Barbra offered him a kind smile.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, Ryan,” Melissa said, staring at the together papers.

“It’s Gregory.”

“Eh, let’s see how long you’ll be here.” She said, only flexing up after she was done stapling. “Then I’ll remember your name. Okay, Tim?”

Gregory didn’t even have time to fully digest the interactions he just had with the women before him before Jacob came around the corner. “Yes!” He smiled, stalking up to the man. “My dude.” He said, arms open for some sort of hug but was cut short by Gregory putting his hand out. “Oh, yeah,” Jacob said, placing his hand on the one offered out to him. “Keeping it profesh. I like that.” He smiled, leaning against the counter. “I’m Jacob. It’s nice to see another male teacher in here. It’s not a lot of us. Hey, now I got somebody to talk sports with. You like women’s tennis?” The paler man asked, before shooting the camera a sideways glance. “Or, as I call it, you know, regular tennis.”

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

Naoya was walking the halls, whistling a tune with her bad over her shoulders when she came across a tall, good-looking man in a gray sweater. Hearing her, the man turned around to see a tall, light-skinned woman with a large, light brown puff ponytail at the back of her head. She had on specs that covered most of her face, enlarging her eyes. She was dressed in a slightly baggy pair of dark wash denim jeans with brown shoes that matched the brown in her green sweater, paired with a white shirt underneath. Seeing the mysterious man, she furrowed her brows at him from down the hall.

“Uh, hello.” The man waved awkwardly from down the hall.

Naoya waved back as she made her way closer to the man. “Uh, hi. Are you lost?” She asked, slowing down when she got in front of him. “In a school building?…And smelling like pee and/or vomit. I’m calling security.” She started to back up and pull out her phone, or even yell before she stopped and frowned. “Oh wait, I am security.” She said, moving her bat to her good hand getting ready to swing.

“Wait!” The man yelled, sticking out his hands in defense. “I’m a sub! I’m here to fill in for the woman who kicked the kid.” He defended.

Naoya visibly relaxed as she looked the man up and down, taking in his formal attire. “Okay.” She said, dropping her defensive pose. “That still doesn’t explain the smell.” She said, giving the man a disgusted once over. Gregory stuttered to get an answer, embarrassed by the cameras and such an awkward situation in front of another beautiful woman.

“It’s a long story. A broken toilet, a student wet his pants, another one threw up.” The man shrugged, a look of disgust crossing his face as he thought it all over. At his words, Noaya nodded with a look of understanding.

“No, yeah. I get it. Well, um, congratulations on being here considering…” She trailed off, gesturing around the school and then to him. “If you need anything at all, I’m at the very end of the hall. I'm Naoya Lovel, and I teach fourth grade. I’ll be here to help any way I can, I am known for having everything anyone might ever need, so.” She shrugged and began walking away, pat him, and to her class. The man nodded, a sliver of a smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on the spot she just left. Catching the camera out of the corner of his eye, she quickly straightened up and then turned the opposite way to face her. “May I ask why you’re carrying a bat?” He asked.

Naoya stopped walking, the bad still in her hand as she angled her body slightly to look back at him. “No, you may not.” She said with a smile before continuing to walk away and into her classroom. Gregory just nodded and walked into his room as well.

“Today was utterly disgusting, but she and Janine seem nice.” He smiled slightly.

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“I got a good feeling about this,” Jacob smirked at Naoya and Janine as they and the rest of the teachers gathered outside at the entrance of the school. It had something to do with Ava needing them to see the improvements she made to the school. “Right? Me too!” Janine said excitedly. Naoya rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets due to the cold weather.

“I wish I could live in the blissful ignorance you guys call optimism.” She said, looking between her two friends. They only rolled their eyes at the girl, who was usually a pessimistic person, so they didn’t take her words too seriously.

“Good morning!” Ava said to all the teachers before her, who were obviously in no good mood. “Good Morning!” Janine was the only one to respond.

“Gregory.” Ava finished, giving the man a look. Noaya furrowed her brows slightly, throwing the man a sideways glance.

“The district was so moved by my plea that they approved the emergency budget and sent us the money right away,” Ava said to the group. The crowd started clapping, Jacob and Janine were genuinely happy while most were in shock that the district pulled through.

“Okay, we could have hired aides, we could have got rugs.” Ava continued as the clapping died down. “But then I thought, “No. We need something more immediate.” She said, her words causing Naoya to nod her head as she began slowly making her way away from the group. She knew this wasn’t going to end well, and this was her stopping herself from throwing her loafers at Ava’s head.

“Oh, no, no. The rugs are immediate.” Janie spoke up. “They’re like instant Xanax for kids. I explained it all in my email.” She told the group as she made her way to extract her phone from her purse.

“Girl, who told you to send an email?” Ava asked, looking down the steps at the shorter woman. Jannie stopped what she was doing and glared at Ava. “You did.” She hissed, looking at her confused.

“Anyways, I always feel better when I get my hair done.” Ava continued, not caring for what Janine had to say, as she showed off her new blonde number. “Thus, I do better work, like I’m doing now.” She smiled at them. “You know, fix the outside, the inside takes care of itself.” She then gestured up to the giant tarp over the building, the man pulling it down to show a sign.

It was a giant Willard R. Abbott Elementary sign with Ava on it, leaning onto the letters. The teachers just stood there and looked up at the sign, no words were said between any of them. But they all had the same thought.

What the fuck?

“Yall seeing this?” Ava asked, copying her pose that was on the sign.

“A plastic sign?” Janine asked, looking between the woman and the sign.

“Thank God for the school district, because they gave us $3,000 and I had to spend all of it.” Ava said as if she didn’t care about the severity of the words she just said.

“You spent all of the money on this?!” Janie asked in disbelief.

“Rush job, can you believe this quality?” The terrible principal continued.

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“This is fucking ridiculous, she has gone too far,” Naoya said as she, Jacob, Janine, and Gregory rushed back into the school.

“Somebody needs to do something before I get my bat back out. Actually, Forget the bat, I’m gonna go get a gu—.”

“Okay! Yes.” Jacob cut her off, trying to ignore the scared look Noaya received from Janine and Gregory, while she just continued to sit in her anger, not even seeing them. “Somebody, anybody but you, should do something.” The man said to the angry woman.

“You know what. I’m gonna do something.” Janine said, as stored up and Naoya. Well, maybe not as much but still fired up.

“Okay, alright. Whatever you do, I will co-sign it.” Jacob encouraged. “Yes!” Janine said. “That is how change works. Someone does something and somebody co-signs it.” He finished.

“I want Jannie to succeed in what her plan is because Ava needs to be out in her place, “professionally”, or whatever Jacob said,” Naoya stated, rolling her eyes. “But I also want her to prove something to Barb. For her sake. Because Janine really needs a mother figure in her life and the constant groveling for Barb’s praise is starting to make me want to choke.” She finished with a shrug. “That’s my girl though, I love her.”

“Hey, you two, wait up! I’m going out to lunch too.” Janie called out to Melissa and Bard as they walked down the hall. The camera caught Naoya, who rolled her eyes at the situation she was just talking about making an appearance as she walked after Janine.

“Oh yeah, where are you going for lunch pip-squeak? Bird feeder?” Melissa joked, putting her purse over her shoulder.

“Thought you’d be working on your next miracle from Saint Ava.” Barbra pushed.

“Ha ha, No.” The shorter woman defended herself. “I don’t think I’ll need anything from Ava ever again.” Janine smiled, her words causing the other three women to look confused.

“What does that mean?” Naoya chimed in from behind them, ready to go out for lunch as well.

“Well, I emailed the superintendent and told him everything Ava has done today. No way she doesn’t get fired.” Janie bragged.

“Oh, for the lives of God.” Melissa groaned.

“Janine,” Noaya said in disappointment. “This is why I told you to tell me.”

“What?” She asked, looking between the three women.

“The superintendent never sees our emails,” Barbra told her. “He has them bounced back to the person in charge of where they came from.”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Janie stared. “Person in charge? That means the emails go back to…” She trailed off, the dots connecting. Just in time for said person to come in the intercom with an announcement.

“Teachers, it’s come to my attention that some of you—one of you—.” Ava clarified, looking through the glass of her office at the group of women standing at the door, her eyes trained on one in particular. “Think it’s okay to go over my head. So, during lunch break—this lunch break—we’ll be having a trait workshop so that we can learn how to become a woke family.” The woman was clearly pissed off, glaring at Janine from where she sat. “It’s gonna be fun!”

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“We are at a crossroads, this is a crisis,” Ava stressed as she stood before the hired group of teachers.

“No, a crisis is eating the cafeteria pizza for lunch.” Naoya chimed in from where she sat in the back.

“Uh, why are we here, exactly?” Gregory asked his seat right in front of hers.

“Well, chocolate drop.” Ava started, causing Naoya to snicker at the name. “I learned that someone here doesn’t respect me. But it’s not about me. Because if you don’t respect me, how can you respect this school?” She continued, causing them all to look at her confused as such a stupid correlation. But, it looks like Ava took that as a look of confusion due to her question.

“You can’t. It’s mathematically impossible.” She finished.

“W-Whoa. Who doesn’t respect you, Ava—I mean, the school?” Jacob asked.

“Me,” Naoya said but seemed to be completely ignored.

“It’s not important. We’re gonna make this a group matter so as too not to single any one person out.” The woman answered him. “Let’s try an excuse where we say whatever we want out loud to each other, no matter how critical. It’ll be fun, let’s start with Janine.” She said, looking over at the short woman who was practically shrinking in on herself.

“Janine?” She asked, smirking evilly.

“Yes?” Janine asked dejectedly, knowing that this whole situation was her fault and knowing that Ava did the exact thing she said she didn’t want to. Single her out.

“You’re pushy, squeaky and annoying,” Ava stated.

Collective disagreement was heated around the room.

“Excuse me?” Melissa piped up.

“Thaya just…” Gregory said.

“When is it my turn?” Naoya asked, starting to take her earring out of her ear.

“No, it’s not bad. No.” Ava defended. “We’re shaking to make us all better. Constructive. Hershey kiss, why don’t you try, start with Janine.” She pushed.

“I don’t want to.” The man sighed.

“You’re right, it should be someone who knows her better. Noaya, Jacob, Barbra?” She asked, looking between the two.

“When is it your turn? I wanna go when it’s your turn.” Naoya stated, folding her arms to keep herself at bay. Gregory glanced back, seeing the look of pure hatred on her face.

“Well, her hair is—“ Jacob started before getting cut off.

“Not!” Noaya and Barba said at the same time, the younger more so talking to her friend next to Janine, who gave the man next to her a look of disbelief.

“Ava, no one’s doing this to anyone.” Melissa started, looking at the woman before her.

“Hold on, I came prepared for this. Sheena, come on in.” Ava said, looking behind her to a student who was sitting behind the library desk.

“Ava, that is my student, she should be at lunch right now,” Janine complained, as everyone in the room looked at the little girl, trying to see what Ava's plan was.

“I am kinda hungry.” The little girl sighed, begrudgingly walking closer to the woman.

“Sheena, remember what we talked about? What was the thing that you wished was different about Ms.Teagues?” Ava asked the little girl. She just stood there, not knowing what to say as the whole room waited on her.

“She got some big feet.” Mr.Johnson chimed in from the very back of the children’s library where he was sweeping.

“Okay.” Janine sighed before standing from her seat. “Everyone, that’s enough. I am the person who disrespected Ava. I emailed the superintendent to tell him that she spent the school's money on a sign.”

“And got her hair done,” Naoya said, Janine, gesturing over to her in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Ava.” She continued. “And I’m sorry everyone missed lunch, especially you, Sheena. But I didn’t it because I care about the kids in this school, and that shouldn’t be a bad thing.” She ranted. “I—Okay. You know what.” She sighed, done talking. She felt as if no one was listening anyway and just wanted to leave. She was on her way out before turning back around. “Sheena, you should have this. I’m sorry.” She said, handing the school pizza over to the girl.

“Uh, no thank you.” The girl said, shaking her head. Janine just sighed again and turned to leave.

Ava chuckled as she watched the girl walk off, shaking her head. “Not a compelling speaker.” She smirked as she shook her head. “Charisma vacuum, am I right?”

Noaya cracked her neck as she stood up. The teachers in front of her filmed a little at the sound and her sudden movements. But she ignored that. “You know what, Ava? I was going to whoop your ass in the parking lot, and as much satisfaction as that would bring me, I don’t want to lose my job. Because I care about these kids. Just like Janine. And she may be a lot of things, like naive, a bit clingy and too cheerful—.”

“Ooh, this is good stuff, let me call her back in here,” Ava smirked as if she didn’t hear the first part of the girls’ speech.

“But she is also right.” Barba cut in, standing up with Naoya. “You know, actually wanting to help the children at this school shouldn’t be a bag thing.” The older woman finished for her. Afterwards, both her and Naoya walked out, letting Ava sit with their words.

They walked out to find the girl in front of her classroom, looking through the window. “Janine, ignore Ava. Big feet are a sign of fertility.” Barbra stated.

“I’m telling you to just give me the signal, I can have her framed for mur—something.” The light skinned girl said, catching herself in front of the cameras.

“Every lunch period, guys.” Was all Janine said before stepping out of their way to show the inside of her class. They both looked in seeing a little boy napping on his jacket, as the library door sounded again. “Every single one, Amir comes and naps in the rug.” She said, informing the whole group as Melissa, Jacob and Gregory joined.

“Mm-hmm. He was in my class.” Barbra said with a fond smile on her face. Mom’s got a lot of kids. Dad’s not around and when she is, the parents fight.”

“Right, so he doesn’t get much sleep. I told him to sleep at his desk, but she says that rug is softer—.” The shirt woman paused, trying to get emotional over the whole situation. “Softer than his bed at home.” There was a moment of silence as all the adults sat with her words. It’s hard hearing about the life of the kids you see everyday, knowing they live lives no one should. And knowing it’s on you to create a better life for them at school.

“You know what? I don’t care I you think I’m good at this or not anymore. I care about whether or not I can make a change.” Janine told Barbra as sternly as she could, which wasn’t a lot.

“Janine.” The woman started. “Teachers at a school like Abbott— we have to be able to do it all. We are admin, we are social workers, we are therapists, we are second parents. Hell, sometimes we’re even first.”

“Mm-hmm.” Melissa agreed.

“Why?” Barbra continued. “It sure ain’t the money.”

“Yup. I can make more working the street, easy.” Melissa chimed in. Causing Jacob and Naoya to look at each other in concern.

“Prostitution?” She mouthed over to the man, who shrugged.

“Look, we do this ‘cause we’re supposed to.” Melissa said to Janine. “It’s a calling. You answered.”

They all looked at eachother fondly, before Jacob started.

“I believe it was Brother Cornel West—“

“No.”

“Don’t.”

“Not right now, white boy.”

They all told him, causing the man to retreat back to his corner.

“You want to know my secret?” Barbra asked, ringing the subject back to where it was. “Do everything you can for your kids.” She smiled. “We’ll help. Hey, I suggest we put our money together and buy Janine the rug.” The older woman encouraged. “What yall think?”

“Absolutely.” Melissa said, pulling out her wallet.

“Guys, you can’t.” Janine started, looking between them. “You don’t have it. I know because I have the same salary as you and I overdrafted on a doughnut hole this morning.”

“Don’t tell me how much money I have.” Noaya stated, holding her hand out as a halt to the girl's words. “I do not claim that broke energy.”

“Well, why are you gonna do?” Barbra asked. “Steal a rug?”

“Not me, but I know a guy who knows a guy?” Janie trailed off, looking between Noaya and Melissa. The light skinned girl raised her hands. “I don’t know a cute guy that can steal that many carpets that fast.” She shrugged, a hopeless look on her face as she glanced at Melissa.

“Way ahead of you.” The woman said as she started typing into her phone. “I’m gonna have to bake a ziti.” She said, holding the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Tony, ya big strung, listen, you still working that stabiuk build?” She said into the device as she walked away from the group.

Sometime later, a guys pulled up in a truck around back with a bunch of rugs for them. They all celebrated, going one by one to grab a rug. “Yay! I finally have one! My room was so depressing.” Naoya said as she waked down the hall with her rug.

“You’re on a mission.” Gregory stated, looking at the shorter girl in between him and Noaya. “It’s cool to see.”

“Thank you. Just a day in the life of being a teacher here. You get used to it.” Janine smiled.

“And that smell in the walls?” He asked, pointing.

“Oh no, you’re never gonna get used to that. Sometimes I wish I had a bad nose like Naoya.” She joked, elbowing the girl next to her. The taller woman lightly groaned. “Janine, you know that’s a big insecurity of mine. I have a fear of smelling bad.” The half Japanese girl tried to clarify to the male. “You’re subbing to go full time right?” She asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Um, we’ll see.” He said as they all briefly stopped in the hallway. “This job definitely surprises me.”

“Well, I hope you stay.” Janine said. “For the kids.” She clarified. Naoya shot a quick glacé to the camera, a small smirk on her face. She then decided to walk away. The camera caught Gregory’s eyes jumping from both women walking away, a small smile on his face. He then looked in the camera and dropped his expression.

“I’ll stick around for a while.” He said. “You know, for the kids.”

“Look guys!” Naoya said as she rolled out her shakes rug for her students. They all celebrated, clapping excitedly at the fact that they had a rug now.

“Ms.Lovel, I hate the egales.” One student said, standing next to the woman.

“Yeah, me too, kid. But don’t tell anyone I said that.” She said, patting the top of their head as Ava walked past her door. She paused at the sight of the rugs. Naoya placed her hands on her hips and cocked her neck, making Ava glare at the woman for a quick second before walking away.

“And that kids, is how you get rid of the enemy without fighting.” She said, pointing around the room to make sure they were watching. “Now that we have a rug, let’s watch that nature documentary!” She said excitedly, causing all the students to yell with excitement well.

[lovelaurs]

A DECLARATION OF LOVE

pairing : mcd laurance x gn reader synopsis : after returning from a long journey, all you could think about was just relaxing at home. but when a mischievous laurance has other plans, it seems like it won't be just another ordinary day back in phoenix drop. tags : friends to lovers, gifts, misunderstanding, confession, comfort, kissing, cuddles, just overall sillyness from laurance. he's a lovesick loser. word count : 2.9k a/n : wow, my first x reader i've ever written! i really hope you guys enjoyed it! i just love writing lovesick laurance and can't wait to write about him more! (please send laurance fic requests i beg of you).

MASTERLIST

It had been an entire week since you began negotiations in Metelli.

Laurance, the loyal guard of Phoenix Drop (and ex-guard of Metelli), decided to join you on your trip in order to help smooth over any issues. Since he had a hand in the relations between the two villages in the first place, his presence, though irritating, was a surprising help in getting the deal moved along faster.

The week was tormenting to sit through; waiting to receive the stamp of approval from several higher ups as you sat around in your given quarters. The rooms you two were given weren’t completely awful, but yet they felt suffocating to sit in as you awaited the answer you so dearly needed.

The two of you going outside was barely an option, seeing as your friend Laurance had so many adoring fans chasing after his affection left and right. You practically had to hide around corners in order to avoid their viscous glares.

Though the thing that surprised you most was how uncomfortable Laurance looked. From when you first met him, he always seemed to bask in the attention his adoring fans gave him. However, something was different this time around. He seemed annoyed, trying to brush off their advances, before finally grabbing your hand and leading you back to your quarters.

The next day, Laurance decided to leave the building and settle the matters himself. Within the day, the two of you were sent back to Phoenix Drop with the papers you needed.

Sure, you were thankful that the trade dealings discussion didn’t last more than a week, but you weren’t about to inflate Laurance’s ego by thanking him. Just having to spend a week there in general left you tired; the stiff stone bed you were given did not help your cause in the slightest.

As you finally set foot on the docks you so craved to see, you jumped out of the boat and immediately started to trudge your way back to your house. 

You had been dreaming of your soft bed ever since you laid down on that brick-like mattress the first night in Metelli, and today was the day you were going to spend entirely laying around. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Of course, life always seemed to get in your way, as Laurance caught up to your brisk pace and walked alongside you through the village. You groaned as you turned to him with a frown.

“What do you want?”

He poked your cheek playfully, giggling at the sight of your annoyance. “Oh come on, why are you so grumpy? We’re finally back in Pheonix Drop!” He walked with his right hand poking you, occasionally waving to other villagers with his other as you passed by.

You pushed his hand away from your face, clearly wanting to be left to your own devices. “I know, that’s why I just want to lay on my bed and rot the day away.” 

As you continued to walk, Laurance sighed, “You’re no fun, you know that?”

Before you could respond with a rebuttal, the two of you eventually winded up at your house. You turned to wave off Laurance, but instead found him looking at you with puppy dog eyes, most expectant, waiting by the door.

All you could do was just roll your eyes and close the door on him, ignoring the loud “Hey!” from behind the surface.

Now your thoughts are filled with only one goal: sleep. You quickly made a b-line towards your bed, flopping onto it unceremoniously. You couldn’t even bother to pull the covers over yourself as you let your eyes finally drift close.

Finally, I can rest.

You had your eyes closed for but only a few minutes until you heard something at your window.

You groaned as you forced yourself up. Maybe you left the window open while you were gone and some animal got in? Or maybe it’s just a sound from outside?

As your mind started to go through all the theories it had come up with, you were left confused when all you found on your windowsill was just a bundle of flowers.

“What in Irene’s name-” You stuck your head out the window, looking both left and right to see if anyone was in the area, but all you saw were just two kids playing outside along with several people walking around town.

What the hell? Who could have placed these?

Slightly annoyed by the action, you took in the flowers and closed the window behind you, placing the flowers by your bedside. 

You quickly splayed yourself out on the bed once more, allowing yourself to make snow angels amongst the sheets.

As soon as you closed your eyes, you felt the exhaustion take over you.

This time, half an hour had gone by before you were disturbed again.

A knock at your door was heard, causing you to whisper, “Are you kidding me?” Before getting up to answer it. At this point, your bullshit meter was slowly reaching the top. You could handle a certain amount of disruptions, however, when it came to interrupting your sleep…

You begrudgingly opened the door, only to find no one standing there. A quick look around was all it took before you found a basket of fruit at your doorstep.

Okay, now what in the hell is going on? First flowers, now fruits?

The situation was just getting more and more ridiculous. 

You took one last glance around before walking back inside, shutting the door behind you. You placed the basket of fresh fruit on a nearby table, before practically sprinting and jumping onto your bed.

No more distractions. No. More.

As you closed your eyes, you thought nothing more of the strange happenings and decided to put them in the back of your mind for the time being.

You ended up sleeping for three hours.

The next thing you knew within your slumbered state, you awoke to a bang coming from the window next to your bed.

That’s it. 

You rolled over and sat up as fast as possible, hoping to spot the culprit of who was messing with you, but all you could see was a letter stuck to your window.

You opened the window, and grabbed the letter, this time not bothering to look around.

Your hands practically ripped the paper open, enraged by your lack of peace. As you unfolded through the torn pieces, your eyes scanned over the letter addressed to you.

‘I hope you’ve been enjoying my gifts so far!’

Like hell you have!

‘I’ve been putting off doing this for a while, so I decided to do it as soon as I came back to Phoenix Drop.’

What?

‘Meet me by the docks after sunset! Don’t be late? :)’

A smile? A goddamn smile? They used precious ink to seriously draw out a smile? 

As much as that smile annoyed you, it was what was signed at the bottom of the page that really was the last straw.

‘Love, Laurance.’

You gripped both sides of the paper, hands shaking as you reread the last line. You let your finger trace the word ‘love’, your eyes focusing on it, mindlessly thinking of what it could mean before shaking your head in rage.

“Laurance?! Are you kidding me?! Ugh, I should’ve known it was him messing with me!” With anger being the only option to turn to, you gladly let loose. “So that’s it, huh? He’s toying with my emotions! That little-”

You bursted out of bed, your hair a mess from tossing and turning, grabbing the nearest coat. As you slipped your arms through the sleeves, all you could feel was anger boiling inside of you.

Within moments, you swung open your door and stomped your way over to the docks. 

The light within the lanterns nearby lit your way through the night as you thought about how messed up this whole situation really was.

How could he do this to you? You thought you were friends, and now he’s just toying with your emotions? 

You would soon find your answer as you arrived at the docks, finding Laurance sitting at the edge of the boardwalk, letting his legs dangle off the side.

A fire lit in your eyes as you made your way over there, making your presence known as your steps sounded on the wood.

Laurance turned around with a smile on his face, expecting you. “Ah, welcome! I was worried you wouldn’t-” “You!” “Me?” Laurance nervously smiled as he pointed to himself, quickly noticing your anger.

“You- You asshole!” You yelled, throwing the letter at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” He quickly stood up, putting his hands in the air in defense. “What are you talking about?” “Oh, I don’t know! Maybe the flowers, the basket, and let’s not forget that letter!” You clenched your fists as you remembered the previous events. “What were you thinking? Toying with my emotions like that? I’m not just another one of your fans! Who the hell signs their letter with “love” as a joke?” 

As you yelled at him you felt tears start to fill the brim of your eyes, threatening to free themselves at any moment.

“Wait, it’s not what you think-”

You scoffed as he tried to explain. “You know, for a second you really had me thinking you had feelings for me.” A stray tear fell down your face, your voice cracking as you spoke, “Isn’t that pathetic?”

Soon enough, the dam broke loose, and you were crying. Crying on the docks. Crying on the docks in front of who you thought to be your friend. At night. With your head in your hands as you bawled. Irene, could this get any worse?

Laurance took a step towards you, in which you responded by taking a step back.

He hesitated for a moment as he watched you cry, biting his lip as he tried to figure out what to say.

“It wasn’t a joke.”

You raised your head to look at him, tears still running down your cheeks. “What?” “I said it wasn’t a joke.” He took another step toward you, this time you stayed still. “The gifts, the letter… it was all in preparation for tonight.”

You sniffled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ever since we returned from Metelli, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, and I thought what a better way than to do it the day we got back! But… you seemed upset after returning so I wanted to cheer you up first; hence the gifts.”

You wiped the tears from your face, letting out a small giggle. “It was creepy.” “Huh?”

“The gifts. It was kinda off-putting how you delivered them. I’m not going to lie, it kind of freaked me out.” You had to hold your hand over your mouth as you hiccuped while giggling.

Laurance blinked a few times. “Wait- Really?”

You snickered, “Laurance, you left random things by my house and ran away without leaving a note alongside them. Does that not cross you as the least bit alarming?” He sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. “You know, now that you bring it up…” You keeled over, holding your stomach as you laughed, your tears becoming ones from joy. “Oh my Irene!”

He approached you, putting his hands on your shoulders, shaking you profusely. “Come on! Don’t laugh at my attempt at making you smile!”

Him shaking you only made you laugh more, more tears running down your face at the sheer stupidity of the situation. You had really thought he was messing with you, huh?

But that’s when your mind wandered back to the letter.

You stood up straight, wiping the tears away, before looking him in the eyes. “But what about the letter?” “The letter? Oh-!” He pulled his hands away from you, taking a step backwards, scratching the nape of his neck. “Well, if you mean the signature… I did intend to sign it with love.”

Your breath hitched as he said that. 

He intended it?

As you looked Laurance in the eyes, there was a fondness shining within them. A fondness that seemed so common from whenever he looked at you, something that you never properly registered it until now.

“What I originally brought you here for… was to confess my feelings.” He slowly reached out, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it. His eyes fluttered shut as he did so. 

He opened his eyes to gaze at you, truly looking at you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you held eye contact.

As he lowered your hand, he held it tight within his, as if not wanting to let you go. “Around the time when you first moved to Phoenix Drop is when you stole my heart.” He took a deep breath in, as if composing himself. “You were tough, self-sacrificing, and didn’t accept help from others at first. But as you grew to become a part of our village, you slowly started to open up more. And when you’d laugh– my Irene, your smile. It tore me to pieces the first time I saw it. I couldn’t get enough of it.” Your eyes widened as he spoke, before nodding, silently allowing him to continue.

“The way your hair looks rushed when you wake up late in the morning, the way your eyes sparkle in the sun, the way you look at me when you’re excited… All of these little things I noticed along the way drove me crazy. It was then that I knew you were truly something special.” He smiled, taking your other hand in his. 

The moonlight shining on him from behind was surely a sight to see. He looked ethereal. Something in you craved to have him for yourself– to hold him close, to cherish him as much as possible.

A silence filled the space between you two as he looked at you like his sun, and him, your moon.

“I love you.”

Those words were just what you needed to hear. Confirmation. Assurance.

You looked down at your feet and shut your eyes tight, trying your best to prevent yourself from crying once more.

He quickly took note of your state, leaning closer, sounding almost panicked. “A-Are you okay? I’m sorry if this is sudden- you don’t have to give a response or anything!” 

You quickly raised your head up, shaking your head back and forth rapidly. “No- No it’s fine! I feel the same way, I’m just trying not to cry-” He smirked, “Oh? Did my words truly make you that emotional- wait, you feel the same?” His eyes widened as if not expecting a positive response back. Of course the first thing he registered was something he’d use to be cocky. That goofball.

You nodded your head, sniffling. “Of course I do! The entire reason I came over here so angry was that I thought you gave me false hope! I thought you were just messing with me like always.” He let go of your hand and cupped your cheek, brushing away the tear stains with his thumb as he looked at you as if you were his world. “I would never joke about my feelings for you. Ever. I adore you.”

Those words truly hit your heart, as you leaned into his palm.

Oh how lovingly he looked at you just made you burn under his gaze.

It was then that he leaned forward, inches apart from your lips. “May I kiss you?”

You gave but one nod.

That was all that was needed for him to softly press his lips against yours. He carefully brought his other hand up as well, cradling your face within his hands. Fireworks were lit within your stomach, as he set you ablaze with the match that was his touch.

As he kissed you, you wished within your heart that this would last forever. Forever entangled within his loving gaze.

As the two of you pulled apart to catch your breath, you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked with his cheeks flushed and pupils blown. He looked otherworldly from your eyes.

It wasn’t even a few seconds before he went in for seconds, kissing you far more passionately than before. He let one of his hands wander and grip your hip, pulling you even closer. His hands felt like they were burning your skin, searing at the touch. It wasn’t until he licked your lips that you pulled back, flustered.

He immediately looked at you with worry. “Are you okay? Did I go too far?”

“No! It’s just… my heart is beating so fast I’m afraid any more will kill me.” You laughed, clutching your chest.

He extended his hand. “How about we just sit down by the edge and look at the stars instead, hm?” 

“I would be delighted.” You took his hand in his, following him to the end of the docks, before sitting down at his side.

As far as the rest of the night went, the two of you continued to sit side by side on the docks, kicking your feet in motion with the waves.

He extended his arm around you, pulling you close, as he nuzzled his face into your neck. You couldn’t help but giggle at the feeling.

Maybe sleep could wait.

@lovelaurs, 2024. do not repost this work in any way!

[goodlucktai]

raised on little light (3/?)

rise of the tmnt word count: 4k as you can see the chapter count has become a mystery even to me, i really was not anticipating another leo pov and yet the blue boy got me. as always big thank you to  @soldrawss and  @mykimouser for making this au richer and more lived-in than it would have been without them title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3

x

2020

Leo is being carried. 

The rest of the world is a shapeless blur of muted color that slides in and out of focus the second he lets his mind wander, so he clings to what he knows. He’s three-fourths little brother down to his very core, and he knows exactly what it feels like to be picked up and taken somewhere by someone who wants him to go to bed, or come eat dinner at the table, or just be held until some danger is gone and a safe place is found. 

The footsteps beneath him echo in all directions even though they’re only resolutely headed in one, and there is a constant dull drum of water moving through pipes, punctuated by drips and splashes, and a stale, pungent smell that coats everything like a layer of growth. 

One sewer tunnel probably sounds like any other, but Leo would like to believe that he knows the way home when he hears it. He runs the risk of being wrong and finding himself someplace unfamiliar but he opens his eyes to take a peek anyway. 

It’s dark, with only passing moments of light from grates overhead to see by, and it takes a few more minutes than it should for Leo to realize that he does know where he is. He knows the poorly designed clusters of pipes, the faded brickwork covered in faded spray paint that a much younger Michelangelo left there before he ran out of room and had to branch out farther, the upcoming intersection with a maintenance tunnel to the left that always floods when it rains, where four little kids used to race paper boats. 

Home, Leo’s heart cries out. He’s so close now. For a crazy minute back there he thought that he’d never go home again. 

Belatedly, he thinks to pull his gaze inward, up toward the face of the person carrying him. Leo’s at an angle where he can really only observe a spotted cheek and a stubborn chin in profile. 

The guy who appeared out of nowhere to save him, the stranger who isn’t really a stranger if the ancestral magic in Leo’s chest that reaches eagerly towards him is to be believed. A bigger turtle who did what bigger turtles always did and carried the smaller one. 

Giorgio—that’s what he said his name was. Another painter. 

Another brother, Leo thinks, catching that thought with both hands and holding tight to it before it can disappear. It’s as quiet and slippery as a fish and Leo’s out here on a boat without a net.

“You know the way,” Leo says. It must be kind of abrupt from the way Gio’s eyes dart down to his in surprise. “You said you did,” Leo adds, to prove he’d been paying attention. “But how? Are you sure you’re real? Or are you a psycho—psy—pomp—uh—the thing that guides people’s souls when they die. You can tell me, I can take it.” 

If this is death it’s not too bad. He’d been imagining something a lot worse. But he can see Gio frown, and feels him shift Leo a little closer, as if daring any other monster lurking in the dark to try its worst. 

“You’re not dying,” the spotted turtle says. “You’ll be fine.” 

Leo assesses himself. Everything is a little floaty, a little hard to hold onto, and his head is killing him. He feels the way he did in the prison dimension, where gravity was an afterthought, half-heartedly doing its job. This feels alarmingly like that. 

He wants to believe he’s out, that home is just a few city blocks away, that he’ll follow his little brother’s paint trails all the way there, but he didn’t earn that miracle. It’s hard to understand why he would have gotten one in the first place. 

He was so sure he was done for. Doubt creeps in. He tries not to be afraid. 

It’s not about me, Leo thinks, but the mantra is losing some of its steel. He’s still that stupid, selfish kid that nearly got everyone killed, after all, he really hasn’t learned a thing. Even though he knows what he deserves, he still wants the other thing. He wants to go home. 

Eventually, Leo realizes that a faint low buzzing in his ear is actually humming. Gio is humming. It’s an unasked for, undeserved comfort, but it soothes the sudden sting of fear like lidocaine. Leo absorbs it, then abruptly something clicks in the back of his mind and the song resolves itself into one he recognizes. 

Three little birds sat on my window…

“Oh,” he says, “I love this song. You must not be an alien after all, not if you know what good music sounds like.” 

“Is that how that works?” Gio stops humming to ask. He’s not smiling, but his voice sounds like one anyway. 

“Hey, I’m the expert here,” Leo says importantly, proud of himself when he only slurs on the sibilants. “You’ve passed the first part of my litmus test. Now I just need you to select all the images that contain bridges.” 

“Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.” Leo is about to explain the joke when Gio goes on, completely straight-faced, “We don’t have CAPTCHAs on my planet.”

It takes a moment to register—a longer moment than it should, which Leo is happy to blame on his concussion and Gio’s frankly amazing poker face—but when it does, Leo can’t help but laugh. 

He hasn’t laughed since the invasion started, and for awhile back there he was pretty sure he’d never laugh again, but now he’s wheezing breathlessly even though it sparks pain all through his ribs, half-smothered against Gio’s shoulder. 

When he thinks to look, he sees Gio smiling for real this time.

I don’t know where you came from, Leo thinks, or maybe says out loud, but I’m glad you’re here. 

Gio’s step falters a little bit, but he keeps walking. 

The closer they get to the turnstiles that serve as the front entrance to the lair, the more clearly Leo can make out raised voices. The confused rambling in his brain goes quiet and his heart sits up at attention, because it sounds like Mikey is shouting. It sounds like he’s crying. 

“Oh, no,” Leo says. “We gotta—hey, we gotta get in there.” 

He is abruptly aware of his missing swords, the lack of any suitable stand-in for him to transform into a sword. He’s tapped out, he doesn’t think he could so much as walk a few steps on his own, but he won’t let that stop him. He would portal to the moon a hundred times if it would take that grief-adjacent anger out of his baby brother’s tone. 

Gio doubles his pace, because he’s clearly a turtle with his priorities in order, hopping the turnstiles and shooting like an arrow through the messy living room toward the garage where all the noise seems to be coming from. 

Mikey’s still shouting. The sound is grating and horrible, like it’s hurting his throat to do it, like it’s about to either ratchet up into a shriek or double over into a howl at any moment. Leo can’t make out what he’s saying, but he doesn’t need to know to be unsettled by it. He’s never heard Mikey sound this way before, not even when they lost Gram-gram and the first lair and had to leave dad behind. What could possibly be worse than all of that?

“That’s my sunshine,” Leo tells Gio seriously. “Shouldn’t sound like that at all. World might still be ending.”

“As far as he’s concerned, it is,” Gio replies. “He thinks his big brother died.” 

Leo’s stomach lurches sickly, an instant, intense reaction, because his mind connects ‘big brother’ straight to Raphie and then draws another line to connect Raphie to ‘died,’ and then everything falls out from under him like the ground is gone and the sky is gone and it’s just bleak empty horrible nothing in all directions.

Only he can hear Raph’s warbling rumble from down the hall now, all thick and syrupy, stuttering in a way that’s unlike him. It puts a hard pause on Leo’s panic, yanking up the emergency brake. Raph is alive. 

His twin is also Mikey’s big brother, and maybe that’s who Gio meant, but now that Leo has had a moment of stunned disorientation—confusion that is sitting with itself instead of just screaming wordlessly in both his ears—he realizes Donnie’s little light in Leo’s soul is as warm and alive as ever. So is Raph’s, and Mikey’s, and April’s, and dad’s. Their constellation hasn’t gone dark anywhere. If anything, it’s one star brighter than it used to be. 

Then they’re in the doorway and there’s no more time to think because Leo is staring across the garage at his family, who are all staring back at him. The sudden silence rings for a very long, stretching second. They’re all there—everyone Leo held close to his heart in hell, everyone he was ready to die for. 

They’re all staring at him like they’ve just seen a ghost. They’re all very still, like the ghost might disappear if they’re not careful.

This is when Leo should say something. He had—back in the prison dimension, he had so much he wanted to say to all of them. So many last words and goodbyes. 

When he opens his mouth, what spills out is, “I’m sorry.” He’s looking at Raph, his Raphie, whose right eye is inflamed and puffed closed, whose left shoulder still hasn’t been bandaged by anyone. It must hurt. Leo hates that it hurts, that it’s his fault it hurts. “I’m sorry,” he tries again. “You’re my hero. That’s what I meant. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly Donnie is right there, so fast he must have teleported, which is not a thing that Leo knew Donnie knew how to do. He wastes no time pulling Leo into a crushing hug and they sink to the floor beneath Leo’s weight. 

Leo’s ribs and leg scream in protest but that’s their own problem. Donnie’s snuffling wetly, sad softshell sounds that make Leo’s heart crack right down the middle, that hurt like knives in his stomach, that override every single other thing in the universe. He hugs Donnie back as hard as he’s capable of. He’s not letting go until someone wrestles him away. 

A smaller body collides with them both and the embrace changes shape. Donnie would only loosen this particular brand of death grip if it was to include their baby brother. Mikey burrows right in, shoving his damp face against Leo’s shoulder, his whole body heaving with how hard he’s sobbing. 

And then they’re all seized in huge arms and held securely against a rumbling chest that Leo would know anywhere. He’d know Raph even if he was deaf and blind and numb, he’d know him at the end of the world. The whole world.

“Leo,” Raph sobs. It’s all he can seem to manage, so he says it again. “Leo.” 

“You scared me so bad,” Mikey chokes out. “Lee, I thought, I thought I’d never see you again.”

Leo can’t move more than to press his cheek to the top of Mikey’s head. “Reports of my death have been greatly—” 

“Make one single joke and I’ll murder you, and no jury on earth would convict me for it,” Donnie hisses against his temple, still roughly more turtle than person. 

“Noted,” Leo mumbles, and then makes an upset sound because Raph is setting them all down and Mikey is peeling away just barely and he doesn’t know why they’re letting go even that much until familiar hands are cupping his face. “Daddy,” he realizes, going boneless. “I missed you.”

It’s nowhere near big enough to describe how badly he wanted his dad when he was on the other side of that portal. He doesn’t know any words big enough. 

“I missed you, too, Baby Blue,” Splinter says, stroking the stripes on Leo’s cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, unendingly gentle, the way nothing in the prison dimension was gentle. “Luckily we will not have another opportunity to miss each other for a very long time because you are grounded for the next century.”

An excuse to stay home forever is not a bad thing to the person Leo is currently, but he still has a brand to maintain, so he says, “Hmf. I want my lawyer.” 

“She’s already filed a motion to withdraw from the case, on grounds of her client being an uncooperative little shit,” April says from somewhere above him, voice drawing in closer as she presses a firm kiss to his forehead. “You’re doing the time.” 

“This whole justice system is a scam,” Leo says. He has to blink hard so he doesn’t lose focus, there’s still one person he hasn’t put eyes on. He’ll have bad dreams if he falls asleep before he checks in on everybody. “Where’s Junior? He’ll be on my side.” 

Something uncomfortable and guilty steals across his sibling’s faces—the faces Leo can see, anyway. Donnie still has his tucked in the crook of Leo’s neck and shoulder and doesn’t seem inclined to change that anytime soon. Raph ducks out of the way a little, and Mikey says, “He’s—yeah, he’s here—” 

The human boy who shuffles forward is wringing his hands, face ashen and tacky with old tears and eyes glassy with new ones. He looks more anxious and sick to his stomach now than he did when he was unwillingly pitched through a time gateway by the remnants of his doomed family. The second he meets Leo’s eyes he crumples to his knees so he’s looking up at Leo instead of down, this poor kid they all owe so much. 

“I’m so sorry,” Casey says. His voice doesn’t tremble or break but there’s barely any air behind it, like it’s taking everything he has to get the words out. “I closed the portal on you. I killed you. I’m so sorry, sensei.” 

Leo hates everything about this. He lurches forward, gets exactly nowhere with all the people holding him, but manages to free an arm and snatch up one of Casey’s restless hands.

“Three things,” he says, wishing he could be more eloquent, “and you need to listen.” 

“I’m listening,” Casey whispers. 

“I told you to close the portal. I put that on you. That wasn’t right. I shouldn’t have made you do that. Right after you lost your dad. That was just—horrible for you—and when my brain isn’t a scrambled egg I’ll make it up to you. I will,” he adds fiercely, when Casey opens his mouth to interject. “Hush. You’re still listening. The second thing—you didn’t kill me, I’m right here. Alive, not a ghost.” 

Not a ghost, he thinks, because no one would go all the way to the prison dimension to save a ghost. And no one would hum for a ghost, or carry one home, or share a stupid joke to make the darkness around them not so dark. Not a ghost. 

“And—you’re still listening?” Leo checks. Casey nods jerkily like a puppet on a string. Leo squeezes his hand and says, “You saved us. You saved everybody. Don’t be sorry. You’re a lifesaver, Casey Jones.”

That child soldier comportment finally dissolves enough for the shaken seventeen-year-old underneath it all to peer out, devastated, orphaned, displaced. He holds Leo’s hand in both of his own and nods again. 

“How did you get out, Leo?” Raph asks, absurdly tentative as he asks the question they’re probably all wondering. He sounds afraid to jinx his good luck. 

“New brother,” Leo says. “Who is not imaginary. Or an alien. He was tested extensively and passed with flying colors.”

“Good to know,” April says, gently stroking his sore head the way he could remember her doing every time he was sick since the age of seven. Then she pauses. “Wait, did you say—”

It’s funny, they’re all ninjas or ninja-adjacents, and they still managed to completely forget about the whole entire extra mutant turtle in the room. The turtle who carried Leo here, who Donnie extracted Leo from in the first place, who has been quietly observing their reunions this entire time. 

So overall, situational awareness is definitely an area that needs some improvement, but in their defense it’s been one hell of a day. 

Gio, for his part, is as good as a statue in the doorway. Every warm hint of feeling Leo managed to thaw out of him is back behind a resting murder face, that face that stared down the Krang General without flinching. 

“Hi,” he says once the entire room is staring at him, as unflappable as ever. “Gio,” he adds, by way of introduction. 

He’s so cool, Leo thinks, or maybe says out loud, if the sidelong looks his siblings give him are any indication. It’s hard to keep track when all he wants to do is lay his aching head down for roughly fifty consecutive hours. 

“Oh,” Mikey says, wide-eyed. It’s a sentiment echoed on Donnie and Raph’s faces, too. 

They’re letting themselves feel it, recognizing him the way Leo did in that connected place where their ninpo lives—the steadfast red mountain, and brilliant purple lightning, and cheerful orange bonfire, and mischievous blue wind, the landscape that Leo knows as well as he knows his own face in the mirror. 

There’s another feeling there now, another color; a fifth presence. Soft, unassuming gray that could turn stormy in an instant. Calm water meeting the shore at low tide. Miles away yet, not quite close enough to touch, but undeniable. A piece they hadn’t even realized was missing until it wasn’t anymore. 

“Little Spot?” Splinter blurts. He looks rattled. If he wasn’t kneeling on the floor already he might have fallen over. He pushes himself upright, bracing himself on Raph’s shoulder, and says, “It is you. One of my sweet baby turtles. But how can it be you? I watched—the day we escaped the lab, a machine went haywire, and you were—”

“The light you saw back then was a portal,” Gio says. His tone gives absolutely nothing away. He could just as easily be talking to anyone about any old thing. “It didn’t kill me. It just took me someplace else.” 

“A portal,” Splinter says numbly. “All this time, one of my babies has just been—someplace else.”

“Splints, how can you be so sure?” April says, more out of journalistic curiosity than any real disbelief. 

Splinter beckons at Gio with both hands. There’s a brief, stilted pause on Gio’s end, and then he obediently folds to his knees so the rat can reach him. He looks like the very last thing he’s expecting is to be held the way Leo was held just minutes ago, his spotted face cradled carefully in his dad’s hands. Suddenly he looks his age. 

“Yes, look at that,” Splinter says warmly. “He has my eyes, just as his brothers do. There is no mistake. He is one of ours.” 

From the way Gio blinks, it’s his first time hearing anything like that. His stillness now is more aligned with a prey animal than a badass alien-killing predator, as if he’s keeping himself safe by not moving a single inch or even breathing visibly. Leo feels a pang in his stomach, made lonely just by proximity to that expression on his new brother’s face. 

Stick around, Georgie, Leo thinks, and you’ll forget what it felt like to be alone. I promise, I swear. 

“Oh, what?” Mikey whines thickly, rubbing his face dry on Leo’s arm like the brat he is. “We had another brother this whole time and we’re only just getting him now? That’s not fair!” 

“Clemmys guttata, an aquatic turtle,” Donnie says, bright-eyed with interest. “Clearly a man of distinguished taste. I’ll need a blood sample.”

“Donnie,” April says with an air of exhaustion. 

“Raph has so many questions,” Raph admits. 

“I’ll answer them,” Gio says calmly. If he’s overwhelmed, it would be nearly impossible to prove it. “But first Leo needs a medic.” 

It’s comical the way everyone springs into action the second they finish processing that statement—or it would be, if Leo wasn’t suddenly un-hugged by a whole bunch of people. Displeased, he says, “He doesn’t need a medic, he is a medic. I know exactly which of my bones are broken, thank you very much.” 

“You have broken bones?” Donnie snaps. “And you’ve just been sitting on the floor letting us manhandle you like an entire idiot?” 

“Infirmary,” Casey announces, already halfway across the room. “Sensei trained me in field medicine, I can help with anything short of open-heart surgery. Are we stocked?”

“Who do you think you’re dealing with?” April says, which means ‘yes, our resident paramedic is pedantic about one thing and one thing only and that’s having enough medical supplies to outlast a zombie apocalypse.’ 

Leo is scooped up in Raph’s arms, handled much more carefully now that everyone is aware of his not-entirely-intact state. Normally at this point he would be sinking, lulled into uselessness. The adrenaline fading, the individual hurts jumping up and down and waving pompoms to get his attention. He’s so close now to being able to just lay down and let someone else take care of things, but—

But Gio hasn’t made any move to join them. He’s lingering behind, like he’s trying to be respectful of someone else’s family during this difficult time. Or like he’s just waiting for them to forget about him so he can disappear. 

Leo’s heart jumps as panic seizes him by the throat and all quiet, peaceful thoughts of passing out go up in smoke. 

“Wait,” he blurts, lurching forward so suddenly that Raph almost drops him. “Hey, don’t go.” 

What if the Krang comes back? What if Leo gets lost and ends up in the prison dimension again? What if he never got out in the first place? Leo is pretty sure he’s home for real, and he’s almost one-hundred percent positive that everything is okay, but he wants Gio to be here just in case. He wants all his siblings safe where he can see them, including this one. 

Leo doesn’t realize he’s reaching until his open hands are taken carefully. Gio holds them and leans in to look right at Leo so Leo can look right at him. His eyes are deep and dark but there’s rich, warm brown in them when the light’s just right. His face could be carved from stone, but it softens for smaller turtles. 

Gio glances up at Raph. Leo doesn’t have to look to know that Raph is probably smiling warmly back at him. If Gio is looking for a reason to leave, he won’t find one there. 

Donnie is a harder sell on most days, but not on this one. He’s still got one hand wrapped around Leo’s arm. He’s still shivering off and on, like he just had a really close brush with his absolute worst nightmare and now he keeps seeing afterimages of it each time he blinks. Donnie would be willing to make peace with Big Mama and Witch Town and the Purple Dragons all in the same day if they were the ones who brought his twin home—but since it was Gio, he gets the free lifetime pass into Donatello’s good graces, which is a lot like winning the Powerball jackpot on your first try. 

And Mikey, of course, is everything bright and sweet and spoiled in the world, beaming at Gio and gearing up to baby brother his way into getting exactly what he wants, accepting no substitutions. 

“Come on, at least give us the chance to win you over,” he wheedles. “I’ll make my world-famous breakfast empanadas in the morning if that sweetens the pot!”

Gio seems to have no idea how to look directly at Mikey’s shining face, so he looks down at his own hands instead. Leo holds onto them a little tighter, and it feels almost like being back in the prison dimension, knowing the most important thing he can do is hold on. 

Come in already, Leo imagines calling out to the tide, that distant crashing water still dithering off the coast, still making its mind up about making this place its home. We saved a spot for you. 

“Stay,” Leo says stubbornly. Unreasonably, maybe. Gio came here from somewhere, and presumably has somewhere to go when he’s done killing aliens and babysitting clingy turtles, but he can belong to them, too, can’t he? They’re all big kids, they can share. 

Whoever else loves him out there in the universe must love him enough to share, or they wouldn’t have let him go in the first place. 

“Let’s make a deal,” Gio finally offers. 

“I’m listening,” Leo replies, game face on.

“If you accept all the medical attention Casey decides you need without sulking or fast-talking or trying to sneak off,” Gio says flatly, that blink-and-you-miss-it humor, “I’ll stay for breakfast.” 

Leo gapes at him, game face off. “Uh, hey, new guy, what gave you the impression I would do any of those things?” 

Donnie doesn’t bother containing his snort, amusement breaking through the stormy upset on his face, and Mikey laughs out loud. Raph’s chest is rumbling, affectionate and happy, and Gio is gazing at all of them like he knows exactly how much their smiles are worth. 

Like he knows exactly how much Leo is worth, and he’s willing to stick around anyway. 

“Deal?” Gio says, quiet and kind. 

“Yeah.” Leo matches his tone without meaning to, all but whispering, “Deal.”

[howlingday]

Goodnight, Father

"Jaune, are you in here?"

"Over here, Weiss!" Jaune waved next to his team. Some would say he was taking advantage of his girlfriend's hospitality in using her family's ballroom for dance practice. However, those close to the couple would know better and that the room had been unused since it's reconstruction, save for the occasional charity dinners that were held once in a complete moon. "Take five, guys."

Oscar and Nora collapsed to the floor, both panting and groaning from their stretched limbs and aching lungs. Nora wasn't used to the former while Oscar was unaccustomed to the latter. Ren rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

"What's up?" Jaune asked, wide toothy shark grin on his face.

"It's a letter from your mother."

"Mom?" Jaune took the letter. Sure enough, his mother's name and address were written hastily on the outside of the letter. Slipping his finger under the sealed flap, he made a tear in the paper. Digging in, he hooked and tore more and more of the envelope until it was open.

"You do know we have a letter opener, right?" Weiss said with a hand on her hip. The smile that accompanied it fell as she noticed Jaune didn't have a response. He pulled the contents free and opened the folded message. Then Jaune made for the door. "Jaune?!"

She picked up the letter unceremoniously dropped to the floor and read the words meant for Jaune. She gave a small gasp, matching the small message delivered to Jaune.

'COME HOME'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune didn't buy a boat ticket. Heck, he didn't even pay for a cab! The clothes he wore to arrive at his home in Ansel were the same as when he left New Atlas three days ago. He ran across three continents and swam through both the icy and temperate seas that surrounded them just to reach home. How he wasn't dead could be attributed to his aura, but no one could really explain.

The only surprising thing that happened was when he found his team, and his girlfriend, waiting inside his home. In his panic, he forgot that air travel, as much as he hated it, was the fastest and safest way to get from point A to point B. Still, he arrived, soaking wet from sweat, rain, and sea, right into his mother's arms.

"And you haven't seen him since?"

"No." His mother poured another cup of coffee for him. He hated the stuff growing up, but he's since relied on it after his departure for Beacon. "No message. No mention. Nothin'. It's not like your father to just leave like this."

Jaune furrowed his brow. It's true that his dad wasn't the kind of guy to keep secrets. If he didn't like you, he told you to your face. In fact, he told Jaune it was a stupid idea to leave for Beacon on a whim. Still, his father loved him and supported his choice. He even said he hoped Jaune did it sooner, at least so he could get some training in.

'Ancestors'd be proud either way.' His father shrugged.

Jaune sipped his coffee. "Hey, Mom?"

"Yes, Jaune?"

"Was Dad... dying?"

The room got really quiet. Nora and Weiss, who were playing with Adrian, stared at him. Ren looked around and noticed the rest of the family wasn't looking in Jaune's direction. Oscar excused himself and stepped outside.

"He was, wasn't he?"

His mother nodded. "Said it was something in his blood. He said it got harder for him to sleep."

"And... he didn't tell me?"

She shook her head. "You deserved to know. I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but he said it wasn't something for you to worry about."

Jaune gripped his mug a little tighter. "Somebody should've told me."

"You're right." Saphron said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The CCT network is still being worked on, but letters can obviously still be sent. Seven sisters and nobody could tell you."

"Why?" Jaune stood up suddenly, surprising his sister. "Because it's okay for everyone else but Jaune the crybaby to know? Because he'd just cry his little eyes out over every little thing?!"

"Hey, I wanted to tell you-!"

"Enough, both of you!" Their mother yelled. She sighed and pressed a hand to her face. "Twenty years and I'm still breaking up fights." She sniffled. "Oh, ancestors, don't make me do this alone..."

Suddenly, Jaune felt like punching himself. Since he came back home- heck, even before that -he was thinking only about himself. He gritted his sharp teeth, flaring his nostrils as he looked away. Years later and Jaune was still a spoiled brat, on the verge of tears because he wasn't getting what he wanted. His mind began to fill with memories of his lifetime in the Ever After, far away from home, like he'd always-

A hand touched his. It was a delicate and soft hand, one with slender fingers that were guided by a tender heart. He looked up and saw the worried look of his love, Weiss. His self-loathing began to fade as he looked into her eyes, entranced by the icy blue that belied a warm and caring soul.

Another hand rested on his shoulder, belonging to his brother, Ren. Attached to him and looking with a smile, trying to cheer him up, was his sister-in-arms, Nora. Entering the room, offering a weaker smile was his friend, Oscar. In his gloved hand, he held a small bit of foliage.

"I... think I found something." He offered.

"Alright," Jaune gave a smile and nodded, "we've got a mission, guys. I know it's late and you all want to go to bed, but I'm not going to let this one get away. We're not getting paid more than room and board, but if you'll help me, I'd really appreciate it. Are you with me?"

"You got it~!" Nora cheered.

"To the end and back." Ren nodded.

"Wherever, whenever!" Oscar agreed.

"I'm not exactly part of this team," Weiss patted Jaune's arm, "but you still helped mine all the same. I'm with you for as long as you'll have me."

Jaune smiled at his team. Looking to Oscar, he nodded. "Where'd you find that grass, Oscar?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a long walk through the rain for Jaune and his team. The winds blew in their face, pelting rain hard enough to soak through their ponchos. Following the clues left behind, they picked up on a trail leading through the nearby woods, over a stream shifting to become a river, before finally reaching an enclosure, and beheld the beautiful sight before them.

As if untouched by the storm, a blue lake rested undisturbed in the midst of the raging storm outside of the treeline. There was enough light for them to see, despite being so close to midnight in the midst of a huge thunderstorm. Jaune crept low and touched the water with his finger, bringing it to his lips.

"Salt."

"What?" Nora asked. "Are you that hungry?"

"No, it's saltwater." Jaune said, taking his poncho off.

Taking a deep breath, he plunged his head beneath the surface. His eyes adjusted to the change in light and nearly bulged at what he saw. The lake, despite its size, was much deeper than he'd ever expected. He couldn't even see the bottom. More surprising to him, though, was what lined the walls of the lakebed.

Swords. Shields. Axes. Crossbows. All white with gilded trim, each embedded into the muddy walls of the undersea cliffs. Pulling his head up, he shook his head. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"It's..."

"A graveyard." Jaune whirled to see a man, well-aged beyond his years (even by Ever After standards), with a thick, white beard and eyes as blue as the ocean itself. He held himself upright with an alabaster cane with gilded trim, much like Crocea Mors and the weapons located underwater. "It's the Arc Graveyard, Jaune."

"Dad..." Jaune stood to his feet. Meeting his father for the first time in what could have been years, he saw how tall the man really stood compared to his progeny. At his full height, he was six foot even. Now, hunched over, he was just a few inches shorter than that, and even shorter than Jaune. Still, the gaze he held was something Jaune was all too familiar with.

Oh, sure, there was love in his father's eyes, for despite their tiffs now and again, Jaune was raised and taught by a man who did his best to teach him everything he could. Did he succeed? Jaune felt like he did, since he was still alive, and happy, and had found love with a beautiful and wonderful woman in Weiss. None of this would have happened if not for the man in front of him.

"You've come a long way, Jaune." The old man smirked. "And you reek, too. Did you bathe before coming here?"

"Technically." Jaune chuckled. "To be honest, the last time I had a bath, or even slept, was about three days ago."

"Stinky." Jaune's father chuckled. He then coughed, making Jaune drop his smile. "Your nephew loves that word. Giggles every time he hears it."

"Dad..."

"Jaune, you are my one and only son, so I know you feel like you have this idea of what you're supposed to be. Like you're supposed to be some kind of big, damn hero with forty wives and a hundred kids. And as cliche as it may sound, I never wanted you to have such an extravagant lifestyle. Or, at least, I didn't want you to feel like you had to. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and ready to be the man you had to be when someone tried to take away your happiness. And my son," a wide, toothy shark grin spread across the man's wrinkled face, "you are that happy man."

Jaune swept the man into a hug, tears pouring from his eyes as he heaved sobs into the man's shoulder. The man chuckled and wept a few tears of his own. Off to the side, watching the spectacle, the rest of group were each weeping along with the men. Finally, however, the time came for Jaune and his father to part.

"It's time, Jaune." Slipping into the water, the eldest Arc swam a few feet to the center. From there, he dove beneath the surface. Bubbles came up as he dove deeper. His shadow disappeared a few yards down. Jaune stood on the shoreline, watching, waiting, hoping that this was some elaborate hoax, as if to play a cruel trick on him. But nothing came up.

"Goodbye, Dad."

---------------------------------------------------

Fun Fact! In 2022, scientists discovered a "shark graveyard". At first, as they dragged nets across the ocean floor, they thought what they pulled up were just rocks when, actually, what they were pulling up were shark teeth. HUNDREDS of shark teeth, including recent sharks like Great Whites and more ancient sharks like, yup, MEGALODON! Since sharks are cartilaginous, only their teeth are tough enough to make it through decomposition, while the rest is consumed by scavenging wildlife.

[osaemu]

ミ★ quick learner 🜸

pairing: student! gojo x reader

summary: to you, chemistry means two things – the worst subject on earth and the best feeling ever. satoru somehow teaches you both.

word count: ~2.0k

notes: suggestive. modern au. mentions of organic chemistry. making out. guest appearance by geto. gojo calls you 'smart girl' at one point. rushed. barely proofread. written while i was half asleep. like always, reblogs are very very appreciated.

a/n: i genuinely don't know how i feel about this one... there are parts i like and parts i don't like (that i was too lazy to fix) and it's kinda just stitched together ... lmk what you think in the comments pretty pls 💞

"question four – what's the difference between molarity and molality?"

"wait, those are two different things?"

since you and satoru had both procrastinated studying for your impending chemistry test, you found yourselves at the library long past midnight. 

it was an accident – when you had decided to study in the library instead of at home, you hadn't anticipated running into anyone you knew. but of course, satoru gojo, the charismatic guy in your english class, was here too. 

you wouldn't say that the two of you were close – acquaintances was a better word. satoru and you knew of each other and were on friendly terms, but until now you had never really taken the time to talk alone.

but hey, just because you didn't know the guy that well didn't mean you were about to turn down a free study partner. especially one as attractive as satoru, although it was admittedly a bit distracting when you were trying to focus on your work.

it wasn't his fault – his long, white lashes were just naturally mesmerizing. and his eyes? breathtaking. even in the dim light of the library, his eyes shone like crystals. you didn't even want to start thinking about his hands, his jawline, and certainly not his body, otherwise you'd be studying something else the whole night – him and his stupidly attractive self.

after a ton of mental self-chiding, you finally manage to get your priorities straight and actually try to study, but what started as a study session gradually turned into a tutoring session when you two realized that one of you needed a lot more help than the other.

and to your dismay, that was you.

"you really thought molarity and molality were the same thing?" satoru scoffs, shamelessly grinning. "y'know, it's really a miracle you have an A in the class. you don't deserve it."

"shut up," you reply, knowing only too well that he was right. the only reason you were able to maintain a good grade in this stupid chemistry class was because the teacher offered a ridiculous amount of extra credit.

but unfortunately, you couldn't float on that boat for much longer. your grade was still slowly slipping, from a 95 to a 93 to what was now a flat 90, and your pride wouldn't let that number fall any further.

satoru laughs and shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair. "c'mon, at least tell me what molarity is."

"uhh, that's moles per liter, right?"

he nods and twirls a pen in between his fingers. "yeah, that's right. now what's molality?"

"how should i know? i don't pay attention in class," you groan, resting your head in your palm.

satoru rolls his eyes, and you take a moment to appreciate how gorgeous they are. they were a color somewhere in between cerulean and ocean blue, further enhanced by his long white lashes.

your admiration quickly fades to indignation when satoru clicks his tongue and starts rattling off some dictionary definition of molality.

"y'know, you'd know more if you weren't on your phone the whole time in class," he says dryly. 

you groan again and lean back in your chair. "it's just so boringgg," you whine, pushing the chemistry worksheet away. "forget it, i'll just guess on the test tomorrow. it usually works."

as you start to sweep your pencils and papers into your bag, satoru grabs your wrist and gets you to meet his ocean-blue eyes. "i'll feel bad if you do badly because i didn't help you enough."

his grip on your wrist is firm but gentle as he leans a millimeter closer. "let me help you, yeah?"

after a beat of silence, you nod and look away. his glacial eyes are piercing in the kind of way that makes you think he can see right through you, and you don't like the feeling of being readable.

"so, am i gonna have to force you to pay attention or will you do it yourself?"

the question catches you off guard. something about the way he asks it makes it very clear that it's a genuine question – either you can try and make yourself focus or he can make you.

you don't quite know what the latter means, but it sounds more fun, so that's what you pick.

and that's how you ended up on his lap, hair wrapped around his fingers as he quizzed you from behind. 

satoru had somehow motivated you to actually try and study by rewarding you with a kiss for every question you got right. had the offer come from anyone else, you would've called them a creep, but satoru was attractive and he knew it. on top of that, he wasn't afraid to use his good looks to get what he wanted, which, in this case, was for you to do good on tomorrow's test.

"avogadro's number?"

"umm, 6.022 x 10 to the 23rd?"

satoru nods and kisses the side of your face, lips trailing over your jawline as his eyes flick back to where he'd scribbled a couple practice questions.

"how many bonds can hydrogen form?"

"one."

this time, his lips touch your neck, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint in your body to hold back the embarrassing sound you can feel at the bottom of your throat.

"last question, how many bonds can carbon form?"

this time, your voice comes out breathier than you expected. "four, right?"

"smart girl." 

and now, for the first time this night, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips. he doesn't linger and he doesn't give you any chance to savor the taste of his lips – one second his mouth is pressed to yours, the next it's moving with words you don't quite absorb.

he rifles through a couple papers and makes a face. "actually, my bad, there's more. not much," he quickly adds when he sees you groan. "just some stuff we didn't cover completely at the beginning."

"you're the worst."

"you'd fail without me."

"maybe, but at least i'd be happier."

despite your playful jabs, the truth that studying with satoru was a lot more bearable than studying by yourself, and it was also a lot easier to stay awake. before you knew it, two hours came and went, and you were practically an expert on everything that could possibly be on the test tomorrow.

and when you're finally able to confidently tell satoru the difference between molarity and molality, that's when he turns you around on his lap to face him and presses his lips to yours again, and this time, he doesn't pull away.

"you're a quick learner, aren't you?" satoru mumbles against your lips. he pulls back for a second to get some air before grabbing your chin and leaning in for more. "yeah, i wonder what else i could teach you. you wanna find out, pretty?"

you're not entirely sure when the studying ended and the making out started, but you certianly do know when the making out ended. 

before you could reply to satoru's rather suggestive question, a message blared from the speakers around the library and interrupted whatever you two had going on.

" it is now closing time. all remaining students, please return to your residential places immediately."

satoru chuckles and nudges you off of his lap before standing up and stretching. "well, it's almost 3, we should get some rest." 

"yeah, that's probably smart."

"of course it is. i'm smart."

"yeah yeah," you mumble after a second when no better retort comes to mind. probably because he was telling the truth – satoru was smart, and he knew it. 

"well, i'll see you tomorrow," he says, sweeping the remainder of his stuff into his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. "good luck on the test, you'll do great."

you smile and zip up your own backpack before heading towards the exit on the other side of the library, his words buzzing around your head and the memory of his mouth fresh on your lips the whole way home.

"satoru, satoru! guess what i got on my test!"

after you made your way home from the library last night, you slept like a rock. barely a minute after you tiredly stumbled into your oh-so welcoming bed, you were out. 

despite only getting around five or six hours of sleep, you felt pretty damn good the next morning as you sat down to take your chemistry exam. and that good feeling stayed with you the whole test, and when you finished, you were able to confidently set your paper on your teacher's desk.

well, as confidently as anyone could set a piece of paper down anyways.

but now it was lunchtime, and a soft chiming sound from your phone signaled that the test was score and put into your grade. your hands shook slightly as you tapped the notification, but to your delight, a 97 lit up your screen.

and of course, who else could you credit with this besides satoru? so you walked over to where you'd seen him hang around during lunch and called out his name, but you really hadn't anticipated company.

"ah, satoru, who's this?" the dark-haired boy beside satoru asked, voice light with interest. "have you been seeing someone and not telling me about it?"

satoru laughs and shoves the guy's shoulder before turning to you and grinning. "sorry 'bout him. yeah, what was your score?"

he has a lollipop in his mouth, and as he raises an eyebrow at you, you feel yourself grin as you proudly say "a ninety seven! my grade went up to the mid-ninties, too!"

"smart girl. knew you could do it," satoru says, a lopsided smile spreading across his face.

"it's only 'cause of you," you say, a bit sheepishly. "without your help, i wouldn't've been able to do that."

satoru exhales a laugh and reaches out to ruffle your hair. he looks like he's about to say something before the other guy clears his throat.

"sorry to interrupt your... moment, but the lunch line is starting to grow and my patience is starting to shrink. satoru, you coming?" 

"yeah, give me a sec, suguru." 

satoru looks back down at you, sunglasses resting on the tip of his nose and cerulean eyes flashing in the sunlight. "looks like i gotta go."

you nod and wave him off. "yeah, i'll see you around, i guess. thanks so much for the help, really. i owe you one."

satoru grins and pulls the lollipop out of his mouth. still looking at you intently, he runs his tongue over the lollipop one last time before sticking in your mouth.

"you wanna pay me back for tutoring you last night?" satoru asks, smirking at the surprised look on your face. "drop by my place tonight. i'll teach you something else this time."

he leans in and gives you a quick, sugary kiss before turning away and walking in the direction geto left in, leaving you with nothing but a tingling sensation in your lips and a promise to see you soon.

satoru laughs to himself as he walks away, waving one hand back at you without bothering to turn around. when he catches up to suguru, the latter notices the wide smirk satoru dons and asks about it.

"oh, it's nothing. just looking forward to tonight."

you were, too.

a/n: if i wrote smut i'd write a pt 2 to this. maybe one day idk

i'm probably going to get back to writing some more angst after i finish the last of my requests. i miss writing fics that make people cry /hj

if you haven't already, check out some of my other jjk fics in my masterlist (below!)

anyways thank u vvv much for reading, reblogs are always very appreciated 💞

masterlist

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 2

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The Saturday afternoon lunch rush keeps Isla on her toes, weaving around tables and balancing trays of plates and glasses as she serves those seated in her section. The weather is beautiful out, so lots of customers snagged tables in the outdoor section, the air a delightful scent of salt and wood. Music plays through the speakers of the restaurant, but it’s drowned out by the constant chatter and clinking of utensils.

“Want a refill on that Dr. Pepper, Charlie?” Isla asks one of their regulars, an older man who always dons the same Budweiser trucker cap.

He gives her a kind smile, looking up from his sudoku book. “I’d appreciate that, Isla.”

She grins at him as she picks up the last of the dirty plates from a nearby table, piling them on the tray before carrying it over towards the kitchen window, dropping them off so they can be taken care of. Isla makes quick work of getting Charlie a fresh glass of his soda before going around the counter where Kie is putting in an order in one of the monitors. Before Isla can get started on the other one, the kitchen bell rings.

“Order for pickup!” comes Earl’s shout, and Isla turns to grab the paper bag to put it on the table behind the counter designated for pickup orders. 

When she goes to the other monitor to put in the order for table seventeen, Kie says from her left, “The guys are planning a party tonight at the Boneyard.”

Isla cracks a smile, unsurprised by this. As summer rolls around, she knows they’re in for a lot of parties and boat days. “Any special occasion for this one?”

Isla can sense Kie’s hesitation, and when she glances at her sister—younger than Isla by eleven months—she sees Kie pressing her lips together before meeting Isla’s gaze. “JJ’s dad’s in jail again.” 

Isla’s eyes widen, jaw dropping. Luke Maybank getting arrested is never new news, but Isla knows every time he gets out, he takes out his anger on JJ. Her best friend is too prideful to talk about it, but she doesn’t miss the bruises, the cuts. Neither do the others. But JJ isn’t the talkative type, so they show their support in other ways. Always.

“What the hell did he do now?” Isla asks, frustration coloring her voice. If there’s one person in this world she hates, it’s JJ’s dad, simply because of the abuse he inflicts on his son. It’s why JJ always stays at John B’s, whether his dad is in jail or not. 

“Drunk and disorderly and resisting arrest,” Kie answers with a roll of her eyes. But Isla doesn’t miss her sister’s own anger, sees it in the way Kie clenches her jaw. And why wouldn’t she? JJ is one of her best friends, and if there’s one thing Isla loves about her sister, it’s Kie’s fierce loyalty to the people she loves, her protectiveness over them. Especially where JJ is concerned. Their whole group keeps an extra eye on the blonde, whether he likes it or not. “I think he might be in for six months this time.”

Isla’s eyebrows shoot up, pausing in her work to look at her sister. “Seriously?” She whistles. “That’s his longest stint in a while, isn’t it? Is JJ gonna crash at the chateau?”

Kie nods. “He’s playing it off like he doesn’t care, but I know he’s sick of his dad’s shit.”

Nodding, Isla huffs out a breath. “Yeah, we all are.”

“Yeah.” Kie also lets out a long, heavy sigh. “I just want—oh, what the hell is he doing here?”

Isla glances at Kie, but her sister is looking past her, towards the front door of the restaurant over Isla’s shoulder. Kie’s features are hard as stone, dark eyes blazing with a kind of contempt and anger she saves for a select few people. Her jaw works, and Isla turns her head towards the door to see who she’s looking at—only for her to feel her stomach drop at the sight of Rafe strolling towards them.

He’s in a dark green, short sleeve collared shirt and navy blue cargo shorts that his hands are shoved into the pockets of. Isla presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth because his gaze seems to find hers instantly even in the crowded restaurant, muscles tightening until she straightens where she’s standing. Something stirs in the air as he draws near, his walk infuriatingly confident, and then he has the gall to smirk as he reaches the counter, standing on the opposite side in the space between where Isla and Kie stand.

“Kie,” Rafe greets, leaning forward with his arms resting on the counter, looking up at them with bright blue eyes. Kiara doesn’t say anything in response, her expression practically a sneer, but Rafe pays her no mind as his gaze shifts to the older Carrera. “Isla.”

Maybe she’s crazy, but she swears he says her name differently. As if it’s a secret shared between them. It sends a tickle down her spine she doesn’t dare to acknowledge. The crowd of the restaurant can’t be held accountable for the heat that spreads across Isla’s skin. Damn it.

“What do you want?” Kie demands, her tone unfriendly as always, where Rafe is concerned.

And, as always, he isn’t deterred by her tone. He shoots her an easy smirk and says, “Picking up my order.”

Exhaling sharply through her nose, Isla turns towards the trolley behind her, reaching for the bag Earl had handed over. Reading the name on the receipt, Isla confirms it’s Rafe’s, already paid for, and turns back to the counter, placing it in front of him. “Thanks,” he says with a too friendly grin as he straightens, reaching for the bag. His eyes then meet Isla’s and he arches an eyebrow. “You get your car fixed?”

Isla’s eyes widen slightly at his question, especially when she feels Kie’s gaze suddenly on her, hot and questioning. But she doesn’t dare meet her sister’s stare, and instead glares at Rafe. She sees that glint of mischief in his eyes, deliberate in his question in front of Kie, and Isla has to resist the urge to grab his bag of food and hit him with it. 

Isla’s fingers curl into her palms as her hands rest on the counter, bracing herself, though she’s trying not to lose it because by Rafe asking that one question, she knows she’s in for a lot more from Kie.

“Uh, yeah, it’s in the shop,” Isla answers stiltedly, throat tightening. “Should be good as new.”

Rafe’s smirk is antagonizing but attractive at the same time, and she wonders if she would’ve thought that before last night. Hell, it’s concerning that she’s thinking about it again now. This is the same guy her friends hate, who hates her and her friends, who has gotten into more than a few fist fights with her boys. Isla is pretty sure just thinking that Rafe Cameron is handsome is a betrayal to the Pogues.

“Good,” Rafe says with a dip of his chin, grabbing the top of the brown paper bag as he smoothly pushes away from the counter. He winks at her, then, and says, “One night of playing hero was enough for me,” before turning while grabbing his sunglasses that hang from the neckline of his shirt, putting them on as he heads out of the restaurant.

Isla clenches her jaw as she watches him go, because she knows he knows he just opened a can of worms in front of Kie and left Isla to deal with it by herself. Because, no doubt, as soon as he’s walking away, Kie is stepping up next to her with a hand on her hip and a demanding, “What the hell was that about?”

While Isla is older, Kie is the taller one, having a good four inches on Isla with her five-foot-nine height. So Kie stares down at her, eyebrow raises and a determined look on her face that tells Isla she won’t be dropping it until she gets the answers she wants. “Um—”

“How’d he know about your car?” she pushes, brown eyes searching Isla’s.

Isla had told her about her car breaking down last night, having no choice but to confess because one, Kie noticed her car wasn’t in the driveway and two, Isla needed a ride to work this morning. But Isla had told her and their parents the same thing—that the car broke down, and she stayed in it until an Uber showed up to pick her up. She completely omitted the part about those two creepy guys, and her running away and right into Rafe’s arms—literally. 

It seems, though, her evasion of the truth was for nothing, all thanks to Rafe. What a dick.

Kie’s questioning gaze is incessant and makes Isla’s body tighten with anxiety, until she finally drops her shoulders and throws her head back in defeat. “Okay, fuck, fine, but you can’t tell Mom and Dad,” Isla says hastily, turning to her sister. The busy restaurant seems to be on the back burner for now.

Kie looks even more confused. “Can’t tell Mom and Dad what?”

Nervously tightening her ponytail, Isla quickly tells Kie about last night’s events. About the car breaking down, those guys pulling up, pepper spraying one of them and making a run for it until she ran into Rafe and he, surprisingly, helped her out by giving her a lift home instead of having Isla wait for a ride. Kie’s expressions go from confused, to horrified, to bewildered and freaked out all at the right times, her jaw dropping lower and lower by the time Isla finishes her story.

When Kie doesn’t say anything right away, Isla blows out a breath. “Just—don’t tell Mom and Dad about those freaks, okay? And don’t tell the others about Rafe. They’d all try to skin me alive.” With a one shouldered shrug, Isla adds, “Except maybe Sarah.”

Kie is shaking her head, lips parted. “I’m sorry, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Rafe Cameron actually helped you.”

A dry chuckle escapes Isla. “Yeah, you and me both. But, you know—” She spots the hostess, Lara, seating someone in her section. “It was a one time thing. Wrong place, wrong time type thing,” she says with a laugh, though it sounds forced even to her own ears because despite the weirdness of it all, Isla is grateful to Rafe for helping her last night. Despite what she said, she hadn’t really wanted to stick around and wait for an Uber, or her friends or dad to pick her up. She wanted to be out of there as soon as possible, and Rafe had been the most viable option.

Before Isla can respond, Kie scoffs and adds with a roll of her eyes, “Of course, he’s gonna be a smug asshole about it, too.”

Isla snorts. “Are we surprised?” she says as she walks around the counter. “I’ve got a table.”

The rest of her shift goes by uneventfully, though Isla can admit that she feels like some weight has shifted off her shoulders after telling Kie about last night. The two of them tell each other everything, so NOT telling her, though for good reason, felt like a huge weight had landed on her shoulders. Now that she knows, some of it is off, though Isla knows the rest is because of the truth hidden from her friends. And while Kie’s reaction was far more understated than Isla had feared, she knows the same can’t be said for her friends. 

Pogues don’t keep secrets from each other, but this might have to be an exception. 

******

The Boneyard is a mixed crowd, as it almost always is whenever there’s a party thrown here. Music pumps through the night, accompanying the water crashing along the shore and continuous chatter from everyone gathered. The weather is perfect, and the knitted cropped top Isla wears over her bikini top keeps her comfortable as she sips her second beer of the night. JJ has been nice enough to let her sip from his flask, the vodka a sharp lingering taste in the back of her throat as she tosses the ping pong ball, high-fiving Cleo when it lands in a cup.

“You’re gettin’ smoked,” Cleo laughs at Pope and Kie on the other end of the table. “I thought you were gonna make it challenging for us!”

“Alright, alright, stop the celebration. You haven’t won yet,” Pope calls back before turning to his partner. “Come on, Kie, you got this.”

Kie holds up her free hand to silence Pope, her dark eyes fixated on the table between them. “Don’t pressure me.”

Pope holds up his hands in defense, but his dark, keen eyes watch the scene before him. Isla just knows his razor sharp brain is calculating the physics of it all as Kie prepares to do her throw. Unfortunately for her, the ball bounces off the rim of one of the cups, glaring at Isla and Cleo without any real heat when they cheer at her expense. Pope simply laces his fingers behind his head as he shakes it, pursing his lips in disappointment as Kie flips him off. 

As Cleo does her turn, Isla sways her hips side to side to the bear of the music, arms crossed as she sips her beer. Her gaze wanders around the party, taking in the plenty of familiar faces that surround her, as well as ones she doesn’t know but figures are the kids from families who are staying in Outer Banks for the summer. Other than them, Pogues and Kooks alike are spread out around the Boneyard; some mingling, others keeping to their friend groups. It’s always been like that, really.

There are a few bonfires lit up, the smell of smoke mixing with the salty air in a combination that tickles Isla’s nose with familiarity. She spots JJ sitting on one of the logs by one of the fires, animated in whatever story he’s telling to the group of people entranced by him. But she also notes how he keeps glancing in this general direction, and Isla knows exactly who he’s looking at. She smiles into her next sip of beer, subtly shaking her head to herself and wishing that JJ and her sister would just get out of this limbo they’re stuck in and finally get together. 

The beer pong game ends with Isla and Cleo winning, the two high fiving  as they shift over to let the next group play. Peering into her cup and the remaining drink inside, Isla tells her friends. “I’m almost out. Gonna head to the bathroom and get another.”

They nod their acknowledgements before Isla turns and wanders off. She’s not that drunk, but she smiles at anyone who calls out to her as she heads to the edge of the party where a row of three porta-potties are lined up. Isla hates using them—drunk people are so disgustingly messy—but when you gotta go, you gotta go.

She uses the toilet quickly and carefully, but it’s not until she’s exiting the bathroom that Isla ends up bumping into someone. A gasp rips through her when the remaining contents of her drink spill on her white crocheted top. Isla freezes, staring down at the beer stained top in shock; not a lot of her drink remained, but enough had been in the cup to dirty the middle of her top, cringing at the stickiness of the beer clinging to her skin as well.

“Oh, fuck.” Her gaze snaps up and the shock only intensifies into disbelief at the sight of Rafe standing before her, staring at her with guilt surprisingly swimming in his blue eyes.

A sharp breath escapes Isla, her shoulders tense as she gapes at him. “Seriously?” she demands, pinching the front of the damp top and pulling it away from her wet skin.

His guilt melts into annoyance, eyebrows pulling together as he tells her, “Excuse me, but you’re the one who bumped into me—again.”

Isla knows he’s right, but she can’t bring herself to care at this moment. Why him, of all people, to bump into twice in as many days? “Thank you for the recount,” Isla huffs, flapping her top in a feeble attempt to dry it. “And thank you for completely soaking my top.”

Rafe purses his lips as Isla turns back into the bathroom and rips off some toilet paper, soaking it in the sink before stepping back out and trying to clean the beer off of her skin, at least. The top needs to be washed and hopefully that’ll get the stain out, but Isla can’t stand the sticky sensation of her skin.

She can feel the weight of Rafe’s gaze on her as she slides her hand under her top and wipes at her chest and stomach, her black bikini top peeking through the holes of her knitted top. Heat pools in her cheeks and she tells herself it’s from annoyance rather than anything else, letting out a quiet huff as she balls up the tissue paper because although she’s not sticky anymore, she isn’t entirely keen on walking around with a stained top, even if others will be too drunk to notice. Or care.

When she looks back at Rafe, Isla blinks in bewilderment as she watches him unbuttoning the plaid button down he’s got on, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. “Uh,” she drags the word out, and the heat in her skin only intensifies when her gaze locks in on his fingers deftly undoing the buttons, the gold ring on his index finger glinting against the light of the bathroom behind her. “What are you doing?”

Isla’s lips part when Rafe completely unbuttons the shirt, leaving him in a white tank underneath that proudly shows off muscular biceps as he shrugs off the button down and holds it out to her. “Wear this.”

She blinks. “What?”

Rafe cocks an eyebrow while Isla stares at him, no longer even registering the party behind him and instead looking back and forth between him and the shirt he’s holding out to her. Did she hit her head? What is happening? “You wanna walk around with a stained shit? Be my guest. Figured I’d give you a cleaner and drier option.”

This is so weird, and her extreme confusion pushes her to ask, “What are you even doing here?”

Rafe rarely shows up to the Boneyard parties. Unlike the other Kooks who make an appearance, Isla and her friends always figured Rafe thought he was too good to be seen here. The Kook prince liked to throw ragers at his own place, so why bother coming out all the way here? 

If Rafe is surprised or bothered by her question, he doesn’t show it. “Top dragged me against my will. Now are you gonna take the shirt or not?” he asks, giving the clothing a little shake as he holds it out.

Isla doesn’t want to necessarily walk around in her bikini top or her stained sweater, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she runs a debate in her head. Her friends will question her on whose shirt she’s got on, and she can lie and say some random guy instead of giving Rafe’s name, but what are the odds that Sarah recognizes her brother’s shirt? This guy seems to come to her rescue when she doesn’t have many other options; it’s not like she can borrow anything from one of her friends. Pope’s got a shirt, JJ’s in a muscle tee, and John B’s got his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned to show off his chest. 

God, maybe she should just go home.

Instead, though, Isla finds herself untying the front of her knitted cropped sweater before shrugging it off, keenly aware of Rafe’s gaze on her as she stands in front of him in her bikini top and daisy dukes. Yet, his stare doesn’t feel unwanted or uncomfortable, and Isla can’t look away from him, either. Suddenly, they’re locked in a kind of staring contest, to see who will look away first, as Isla shrugs off her sweater without breaking eye contact.

The air is electric, the smell of smoke adding a kind of sensuality to how close Rafe stands, offering his shirt. The material is surprisingly soft when Isla grasps it, putting her arms through the sleeves, and the air hitches in her throat when she sees that the shirt is practically a dress on her, stopping way past her shorts around her mid-thigh. Isla doesn’t bother buttoning it up, suddenly engulfed in that familiar scent she smelled last night when Rafe had been standing so close to her, and when she’d been on the back of his bike. A scent she would catch faint whiffs of whenever she was at the Camerons’ home, hanging out with Sarah.

Now, it wraps around her too pleasantly as she rolls the sleeves of the shirt up to her elbows before tying her sweater around her waist, making sure Rafe’s button down isn’t tucked into it.  She smooths it down with a huffed, “Good?”

There’s a shift in Rafe’s eyes, a gleam that stirs something to life in the pit of Isla’s stomach as she watches his blue eyes trail down the length of her. The movement of his gaze is slow, purposeful, almost as if he’s committing the sight of her in his shirt to memory and despite the summery balm of the night, goosebumps pimple her exposed skin in response to the touch of his stare. She can feel her pulse pick up speed, a dangerous realization as Rafe parts his lips and rubs the corner of his bottom lip with his thumb.

“Yeah,” he drawls with a slow nod, blue eyes once again locking with her brown. The air is charged between them, as if only a few more seconds need to pass before it sparks something into a fire. 

Isla tries not to shift on her feet, doesn’t want to show the sudden nerves that tickle her that have never existed when she’s been around Rafe—until now. She gives a gentle shake of her head to get her hair out of her face, keeping her voice as even as she can when she says, “Guess your one good deed of the month became two.”

A huff of a laugh escapes his now smirking mouth, hinting at dimples. Isla can’t look away despite all of the reasons she should. Especially when he coolly replies, “Guess you’re the exception.”

Isla presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth, warmth pooling into her cheeks as his words have an effect on her that takes her by surprise. But she remembers herself in time to force a sardonic smile to match her equally sarcastic response, “Lucky me.”

It pulls a chuckle from Rafe, glancing away as he rubs his jaw before he nods at her cup. “Let me get you another drink.”

His offer once again shocks her. Isla lifts her eyebrows and presses her hand to her chest in exaggerated melodrama. “Another good deed?” Rafe rolls his eyes, but that signature smirk remains. “I can get it myself, thanks.” She doesn’t want to risk her friends and sister seeing her even walking next to Rafe, knowing how they’d react. “And, uh, thanks for the shirt,” she adds almost begrudgingly. Though, she is grateful—even if he’s the reason the drink spilled on her.

And maybe Rafe can sense the conflict and confusion that brews inside of her—that has been since last night—because his smirk widens as he takes a step back, his eyes trailing down the entire length of her. His shirt suddenly feels heavy on her frame, like he’s just branded her, and her reaction should be to take it off and shove it back in his arms. 

But Rafe is already walking backwards, hands in the pockets of his pants as he says to her, “You wear it well,” before turning and walking off without waiting for a response

Not that he would get one, because all thoughts eddie out of Isla’s head, gaping at his back as he walks away with those damning parting words. In moments like these, she wishes she had her sister’s smart mouth; Kie is an expert in snappy comebacks and witty comments, meanwhile Isla is left a flustering mess only regretfully coming up with her responses long after the conversation is over.

“Fuck’s sake,” she mutters to herself, forcing her feet to move as she approaches the party.

She stops by at the keg, getting a refill on her drink before walking back to where her friends are. Her steps are slow, though, nervously fiddling with the rolled up cuff of the shirt as she takes a deep breath and hopes that Sarah doesn’t recognize the shirt. Hell, it could belong to anyone, couldn’t it? 

Her friends are all gathered around one of the fires, just the group of them, and as Isla nonchalantly sits down on the log next to JJ, he does a double take and takes in the sight of her new piece of clothing. “Whose shirt is that?” He pinches the material of the shoulder between his fingers, and Isla swats it off as she feels the others’ gazes on her. “Looks very Kook-like.”

Isla suppresses a groan—and fights the urge to glance at Sarah. Instead, she decides to give them half of the truth. “Some guy accidentally bumped into me, spilled beer on my sweater. He felt bad so he gave me his shirt to wear.”

Honestly, she’s kind of proud of herself for sounding very blasé about it, like she’s got nothing to hide. As she takes a sip from her beer, Pope snorts, “What kind of dude wears a button down to a beach party?”

There’s a pregnant pause before every single one of them, including Isla with a sigh, answers, “A Kook.”