#he'd say it while emotions were high and immediately regret it. but he wouldn't be able to say he didn't mean it

[eastgaysian]

trying to imagine lemming and dak-wai existing in the same universe but their vibes clash so wildly it just doesn't compute. lemming has to try and save everyone and dak-wai is doomed to fail at saving everyone. also they are on opposite ends of the 'solving problems with murder' spectrum which lemming feels pretty strongly about. it would be extremely funny for lemming to have yet another friend significantly larger than him who could chuck him like a football though. and for dak-wai to have an emotional support 3 ft bard so they're constantly glancing at lemming with a hand on their sword like 'are we gonna kill this guy' and lemming shakes his head no. Actually nvm i just sold myself on lemming dak-wai adventures

[denaliwrites]

Dance on a Tightrope of Weird

Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Crowley was not expecting you to lose your shit when he asked what you were reading.

Soundtrack: Crazy = Genius by Panic! at the Disco

Requests: Open!

Warnings: The ravings of a madwoman. (It's me, I'm the madwoman.)

It wasn't unusual for Crowley to find you tucked away somewhere in the bookshop reading one of the countless old books Aziraphale kept around. You liked classic literature, and history, and philosophy, and who knew whatever other subjects you happened to find lying around the place.

What was unusual, however, was finding you sat in his usual armchair, reading what was decidedly not a two-hundred-year-old first-edition copy of the random novel you'd decided to bury yourself in that day.

He paused in front of you, carefully tilting the book you held up so that he could look at the cover.

"Dead Mountain?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked so high you could see it over the rim of his sunglasses.

"No, no," you said, a fire immediately lighting in your eyes. "No. Don't even get me started. This is fucking insane."

Crowley never was one to listen to your advice. "Oh?" he prompted casually, and suddenly a chair appeared behind him that he, without looking, flopped down into and sprawled across.

"No, because--"

He loved watching you read. The quiet intent, the way your face moved in tandem with whatever emotions the text wanted you to feel. He'd once walked in on you sobbing along with some tearjerking novel (as a side note, that was the first time Crowley had found himself wanting to kill a book?), and another time he'd walked in on you cheering over something... triumphant, he assumed, or at least something like that.

This was different. New.

He loved it too. The fevered look in your eyes, the frustrated set of your jaw. The way your hand, shaped like a predator's claws, gripped his knee tightly in excitement.

"This is--" you were saying, and Crowley startled back into the moment, eyes on you, attention now unwaveringly on your blazing gaze. "This is so fucking insane. I can't get over this."

"Over what, darling?" he asked, and your gaze sharpened on him, as if only just realizing he was there.

"Do you know about the Dyatlov Pass Incident?"

It sounded familiar. "Tell me all about it, darling."

"Oh, you're gonna regret that."

He wouldn't. Not ever.

"Okay, so -- Soviet Russia. 1959. Middle of winter. These nine hikers -- actually, it was originally ten. These ten experienced hikers go into the Ural Mountains to, like. Upgrade themselves? 'Cause I guess there are levels to being a hiker, and you have to go on increasingly more difficult hikes to level up. So all ten were level two or whatever, and they were going on a level three hike to upgrade to level three."

He nodded, even though all the information was secondary in his attention. He just liked listening to you.

"Okay. So they get to this little town, and while they're there, all the locals are telling them shit like, 'Don't go up that mountain,' or 'you'll die up there!' Like, horror movie type shit. The kind of stuff that makes you yell at the TV."

He was familiar with that. You did that a lot -- but so did he.

"Oh, and the mountain they were hiking on? In the local language it's called Kholat Syakhl. Do you know what that means?"

He... he did. He knew what everything in every language meant. But he let you have this, because you were clearly excited. Seeing the way you motioned with the book, he waved toward it and asked, "Dead mountain?"

"Fucking -- dead mountain!"

He chuckled, but otherwise stayed silent.

"So they're getting all these crazy warnings and the mountain is literally called Dead Mountain in the local language, but they decide to go anyway! So they go off, but before they get very far, one of them is like, 'I'm so sick, I can't go on!' and so he tells them he's gonna go back to the town, and they leave without him."

"I take it he's the only survivor?"

You nodded. "Yeah. The other nine kept going. Oh, and another crazy thing -- one of the girls on the trip was keeping a journal? That's how we know about, like... 90% of the things that happened after they left the town."

He nodded. "Makes sense."

"So, because of this girl's journal, right? We know that one of the hikers just, like, fully went off his fucking rocker about a day into the trip."

"What?" Crowley asked, leaning forward with interest.

"Yeah! He started getting really antsy, and he kept shouting stuff at seemingly nothing? He yelled, like, 'Stop following us!' and stuff like that. At nothing!"

Crowley, for effect, took his sunglasses off so that you could see his surprised look.

"Anyway. So they keep going, even though literally everything that could ever say 'turn back' is saying 'turn the fuck back!' They got off course --"

"As you do."

"As you fucking do. They got off course and decided to hunker down for the night and retrace their steps in the morning. They set up camp, went to bed, and then they all fucking died."

"Oh, I imagine there's more to it than that," Crowley said.

The grin on your face was bordering on manic. "Oh, of course. First of all, according to the girl's journal, two of the hikers went batshit, started laughing hysterically for no reason, and then took off into the night, never to be seen again -- well, not alive, anyway."

"Ominous," Crowley observed thoughtfully.

"Right? And the other weird thing about that -- well, pre them all dying. There was, according to the girl, a big, glowing orange ball of light in the sky that night. They have a picture of it," you said, turning the book so that he could see. "Of course, it's in black and white, but still. And -- the craziest part of that, is that there were hikers on the other side of the mountain on the same night who confirmed the big glowing orange ball of light!"

Crowley's mouth dropped open.

"I KNOW! And then -- their deaths are even more bizarre! First of all, they cut their way out of their tent? Like, they didn't just -- open it and leave. They cut. Their way out. And then they ran down the side of the mountain into the trees. No one's really sure how anything else happened, but what we know for sure is that three of them were found a little up the mountain, like they'd been trying to make their way back up."

"Mhm."

"And two were found naked -- right at the edge of the trees, under one of the bigger ones. Some branches in the tree were broken in a way that seems to indicate that they were trying to climb up and get a view of the camp. There were also remains of a fire beside the bodies. We don't know for sure why they were naked, but the theory is paradoxical stripping."

"And what's that?" Crowley asked, even though he knew.

"It's when you're so cold that you start to feel hot, and so you take off all your clothes."

Demonic work, he was sure.

"So that's five of them. They were found shortly after they died. The other four weren't found until a few months later, after the spring thawed a lot of the snow."

"Why weren't they found right away?"

"Because they were found in a ravine about a mile past the treeline! Three of them were found in a stream in this ravine. One of them had a piece of her skull missing? And all of them had major trauma to their chests -- like, high-speed impact by a delivery truck kind of major impact. To this day, no one's sure what the fuck caused that kind of damage."

Crowley clicked his tongue in thought.

"And the last one -- she was found sitting up against a big boulder? The official report describes her like that. Sitting up against a boulder. She had, like, chunks of her face missing? And her tongue was missing. Like, the whole thing."

"You specified the official report," Crowley observed. "Is that important?"

"Oh! Yes! Because the pictures of the area? They show her as laying face down in the stream with the others!"

"That's suspicious."

"Right? On top of all that, their bodies had traces of radiation! Not their clothes, though, or their belongings. Just the bodies."

Crowley hummed.

"Oh! And their tent -- when authorities found the tent, it looked like it had been put up by amateurs. Like, level zero hikers. But these were level two hikers doing their level three hike. There's no reason their tent would've been put up like that. Even if they were in a rush or scared or whatever, it would've been put up at least sort of better."

He nodded in understanding.

"It's just -- it's all so crazy!"

"I can tell," he mused aloud, lips quirking into a smirk at your perplexed and frustrated expression.

"The thing with the girl's face is really weird," you said after a moment of thought. "The theory is scavengers, but reports of the incident specify there were no animals in the area. Like, I feel like if there were scavengers, you'd write down 'no predators,' or even 'no wolves or bears.' But no, they wrote, very specifically, 'no animals.' Like, I dunno, it just feels like that's a weird distinction to make. But then, if there weren't any animals, how did her face end up with bits missing?"

"I couldn't tell you."

"And why lie about her, too? Why move her and put her in the stream when the report literally says she was up against the boulder?"

He shrugged, before shifting forward to grip your knee.

"I just -- it's all so crazy, and weird, and -- and --"

"Oh," Crowley interjected, looking thoughtful. "Now I know why that all sounds familiar."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, that was demonic work," he continued, blissfully unaware of your increasingly maddening expression. "I'm pretty sure that was my side."

"So you -- you know what happened?"

He finally caught your expression, the set of your jaw and slight twitch in your eye. "Oh -- yeah. Of course," he said, sounding rather unsure, actually. If anything, that just seemed to aggravate you more. "Space yetis."

"... SPACE YETIS!?"

[6sixx6sexual6]

Hi I was wondering if you make GNR fics and if you do can you pls make one of Izzy being mean to his girl or something and if you don’t write gnr fics can you do Vince or Nikki being mean to his girl thank you!!

HII I DONT WRITE FOR GNR BUT MAYBE IF I FEEL LIKE GETTING DISGUSTINGLY EDUCATED ON THEM THEN MAYBE. ALSO I THINK YOU MEAN LIKE NIKKI OR SOMETHING BEING MEAN TO HIS OWN GIRLFRIEND AND NOT IZZYS? IM PRETTY SURE

word count: 678

warnings: manipulation, drugs, alcohol, nikki being an ass

ok so just to start things off I don't really know whats going on with like mick and something about nikki sueing him or something and it kinda sucks. but if Nikki would do that to his “brother” now then imagine what Nikki would do to his girlfriend back then.

don't get me wrong, he loves you to death and he shows it, but there's a lot of reasons as to why he would be so toxic or mean.(drugs, alcohol, pressure, and i'm sure in a relationship like this the lack of love he got as a child would probably come into play.)

He does love you though. Sometimes he can just be an asshole. but not so much physically if he's being mean just to be mean but more emotionally if that makes sense.

There can be a number of reasons why Nikki could be mean to you. It could be from drug-induced behavior, especially if he's feeling aggressive or paranoid from being high.

It could also be if he's feeling insecure or threatened in some way, and his default response is to become defensive and lash out. Another possibility is that he's simply being a dick, and he's not thinking deeply about his behavior, but rather just reacting negatively.

he would probably be really passive-aggressive like the silent treatment or just act cold and ignore you. He would also make mean comments, either outright or in a snide or sarcastic way and harsh with his words and demeanor, saying hurtful things to you in order to hurt you and make you feel bad about yourself.

He's the type to go for sensitive points and use them as a weapon, knowing that it'll hurt you even if the criticism may be accurate or true, but if you do it to him hes shutting it down immediately, like getting in your face telling you to shut up or knock it off.

now if you were like in front of people like the band or something, he wouldn't wanna embarrass you or him, and he doesn't wanna hear shit from the guys or get looks from people if he were mean to you, so the most he would do in public is like get real close to you and tell you to leave him alone then walk away.

but if he were just mad or being a dick he'd still act like a boyfriend I guess, but wouldn't talk much. but while he's in this pissy mood he wouldn't try and solve it or apologize.

maybe he would after he got something good out of it but most likely not. maybe he'd disappear for a while then come back with his stupid smile like nothing really happened.

I'm telling you this man is a manipulator and gaslighter! there's no way he's not.

Nikki can manipulate in several ways. He might use emotional manipulation to play on your feelings and make you doubt yourself or your own thoughts and opinions.

He could use intellectual manipulation, where he uses reason and logic to get you to agree with him. He could gaslight you, where he alters reality and convinces you that your own memory of an event is wrong. He could even use guilt or fear to get you to do what he wants.

Overall, he uses his intelligence, charisma, and your feelings towards him to manipulate you to get what he wants.

If Nikki ended up making you cry, he would probably feel guilty and try to make amends after he came down from his aggressive or mean behavior.

He might apologize and try to make things better between you two, it depends on how far he took things, but he would likely feel regretful for making you cry and wouldn't want to see you upset. he'd probably say things like “I didnt mean it like that” in a slight pissy tone but hugging you at the same time.

but he doesn't ever really wanna make you cry. it doesn't bring him pleasure and he always ends up feeling guilty.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Surgery

author's note: part two of cedric's saga. First. Next.

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets

Summary: Cedric is able to save an older brother… At a cost

If Cedric and his squad had been on their own, they would have been able to run to the extraction point within a handful of minutes under ideal circumstances. Being shot at and shooting xenos and their foul bewitched bug-monstrosities and having to keep nearly a dozen injured civilians together had slowed them down considerably.

Still, the sounds of additional bolter fire, and the righteous shouting of their older brothers were indeed blessed to hear as the six young Astartes and their civilian charges finally made it to the extraction point several tense hours later. Dovos was the one to call out to the older brother via Vox, and several older brothers broke off from the main fighting force to aid them in escorting the exhausted and injured civilians to the make-shift fortification. 

The brother-captain leading the group of elder brothers focused immediately on Cedric "Good, you've got an apothecary with you. Have you been cleared for surgical procedures yet?"

Oh no. That's... Not the best thing to be asked, upon immediately reporting with injured civilians he'd barely been able to patch up "Yes sir. I wouldn't have the full apothecary gear on if I wasn't fully qualified."

"Good. Several of our Interceptors took shrapnel damage that pierced through their armor, and we need all the skilled hands we can find to fish out the shrapnel and stitch them back together. Amadeus, take the kid to the triage area. Buske, lead the civilians to the waiting point for pick-up." The Brother-captain ordered before turning on his heel and heading into the make-shift fortification.

Cedric obediently followed behind the brother captain, trying to shake off the growing worry in his hearts. God-Emperor willing, he will prove that the qualifications he's recently earned are well-placed.

~

He was shown to the surgery area. Cedric couldn't guess what the large room had once been used for, but he moved swiftly over to the hand-washing station and scrubbed up thoroughly, as he had been taught. Hours of running civilians through blasted to bits landscape and shooting at filthy xenos had gotten him covered in mud, plant matter and god-emperor knew what all else. The last thing he wanted to do was to expose an injured brother to something he'd unintentionally picked up on this world. 

After he had scrubbed up, he donned the gloves, gown and mask before being directed to where he was needed most. Cedric's eyes widened in shock as the Black Templar Interceptor he'd been directed to perform surgery on was Brother-Captain Detrich - who had led the Black Templar Interceptors for the past four-hundred years in glorious combat against the enemies of the God-Emperor. He mentally shoved any emotions he was feeling deep down inside of him. It would not do to have trembling fingers while working on such an illustrious brother. 

Brother-Captain Detrich had been taken out of his armor and placed on one of the surgical tables. He was fighting the anesthetist, swatting half-heartedly at him with a growl "I am not going to be unconscious during this procedure. Stitch me up as best you can so I can return to the fight! Those knife-eared bastards killed my apprentice and I will avenge him before the day is done, you hear me?!" 

"... As you say, brother captain. But I must insist that you take some morpha at least, to take the edge of the pain away." Cedric offered as he looked the interceptor captain over, doing his best to keep his face neutral. The venerable captain had dozens of deep wounds all over his torso, and was bleeding steadily, despite his high healing factor. The fact that he had no exit wounds on his back meant that the shrapnel pieces were still inside the older Black Templar's body, likely causing more damage. "We will need to re-open several of these wounds in order to remove the shrapnel, sir."

"... You're the one who's going to be operating on me? Haha, very funny you giant toddler. Where's the real apothecary?" Detrich huffed, glowering up at Cedric.

Part of the Primaris Marine bristled at the implication that he wasn't a *true* apothecary... Though another part of him was nervous about operating on such a well-known - and irritable - older brother. But he had been ordered to operate on this brother, so that is what Cedric would do, barring being reassigned. "I have completed all of the qualifications necessary to become a full apothecary, sir. The others are currently working on other injured brothers, and it's likely that you will bleed out before another apothecary is ready to operate on you. Sir."

Detrich stared up at him from the table, a surly expression on the much-older brother's face before he gave Cedric a wry smile "You're a mouthy and stubborn little shit. Those are good qualities for an apothecary. It means you're less likely to allow your brothers into bullying you. Alright, I'll let you operate on me... But if I die on your table, I'm going to haunt you until you're embraced by the Emperor's light, you hear me, boy?"

Cedric wasn't a child, and he bristled a little at being called boy, but at least the cantankerous captain wasn't trying to fight treatment any longer "Understood, sir. Will you allow us to give you the correct dose of morpha, please? You will be able to seek holy vengeance once I have finished patching you up, but the pain reliever is used to help myself and the others tending to you properly work on your injuries, as it is to aid you in bearing the pain of your wounds."

"... Uuugh, fine." Captain Detrich grumbled, nodding reluctantly. The anesthetist breathed out a silent sigh of relief and mouthed a *thank you* to Cedric as they injected the pain-reliever into the still grumbling captain.

~

Cedric had successfully suppressed any emotions he felt about performing surgery on such a well-known older brother, his hands stone steady as he pulled out dozens of pieces of shrapnel. Most of the shrapnel were pieces of the captains' own ceramite armor, but some were from a xenos frag-grenade. While it had been so far a fairly tedious surgery (that required quite a bit of replacement blood to be dripped into the captain's veins via IV drip), there had been nothing too surprising or distressing... Up until the scanner that Cedric had been using to scan for pieces of shrapnel beeped again. Cedric set down the scanner and used several surgical instruments to peel back the layers of skin, fat and muscle, sucking in a breath, dismay breaking through his iron-clad grip over his hearts as they sunk down to his boots. "Fuck." Left his lips before he could stop himself. 

Nestled against the descending abdominal aorta was a very sharp piece of shrapnel. It had cut into the wall of the major artery, and the pressure was currently keeping Detrich from bleeding out. While the high healing factor granted to Astartes would normally make removal of such a piece somewhat risky but feasible under normal circumstances...  Cedric had been operating on captain Detrich for hours now, and the good captain was a rare blood type among Black Templars, and they were running low on compatible blood to transfuse into him. To make matters worse, the captain was known to be dangerously allergic to synthetic blood. Removing the piece of shrapnel would put the captain at risk for volumetric blood loss as he stitched the puncture of the aorta closed... Technically he could cauterize the wound, but Cedric would rather not resort to such blunt methods in such an area.

One of the other medical staff assisting him leaned over, asking "Why did - oh. I'll get brother-captain Amicus. I think you should work on getting the rest of the shrapnel out of captain Detrich's body."

Cedric nodded and did as he was told, monitoring that troublesome piece of shrapnel, as there was a chance it could suddenly shift, causing more problems.

~

Hours of surgery later found Cedric watching as the tech marines brought in an empty dreadnaught shell, his hearts once again beating from the bottom of his boots. Cedric had done the best that he could, but several of the pieces of shrapnel had pierced through the spine of captain Detrich, paralyzing the well-known and loved Brother-captain. There was much that the enhanced healing of a space marine could do to repair the damage done to their body, but the damned xenos had  coated their frag grenades in some insidious poison that had slowed his healing factor - which Cedric had not caught onto, busily removing dozens of pieces of shrapnel from his body. Given the captain's illustrious career, and the fact that they had a dreadnaught on hand that wasn't in use, the centuries old Astartes was to be entombed in the dreadnaught in order to continue serving the Imperium.

He had also sworn an oath of vengeance against the drukhari who had slain his apprentice as well, and no one wanted to try and stop brother-captain Detrich when he awoke from finding his most righteous of vengeance. Cedric took a couple of steps back as several older and much more experienced apothecaries prepared the Interceptor Brother-captain for Dreadnaught entombment. One of the medical serfs came up to him, saying quietly "Please follow me, my lord. There are other lords in need of medical aid, you are being diverted."

Cedric nodded, gathering up the emotions he could not allow himself to feel and once again shove them into a mental box. As confidently as he could manage, Cedric nodded and said "Show me to them."

"At once, my lord." The medical serf responded, doing as he'd asked. Cedric followed the serf to his next patient, changing his gloves and washing his hands, before working on this injured Brother - who's scarred face he didn't recognize, but he did know how to clean and debride the wounds inflicted upon this brother, wrapping his injuries before going to the next brother, and the next, and the next after that. He worked on injured Brothers - and the occasional civilian - until exhaustion made the young primaris marine stumble a step or two to the next brother. 

The stumble had been spotted by one of the other apothecaries, and he'd been ordered sternly to eat something and rest. He blinked, a dry ration bar in one hand, a bottle of water in the other. Mechanically he ate before falling asleep where he stood.

~

Waking up to the sound of the furious roaring of a dreadnaught was a deeply unpleasant experience. Cedric woke up with a startle, standing up and blinking as a blanket slid off of his body. Automatically he grabbed the blanket before it fell to the ground, folding it and setting it down neatly on the stack of boxes he'd been napping against. He headed into the surgical area, finding the furiously yelling dreadnaught.

It was brother-captain Detrich. 

*Fuck*.

"-ND I TOLD YOU FUCKERS THAT I NEVER WANTED TO GO INSIDE ONE OF THESE SHITTY METAL BOXES! WHERE IS THAT LITTLE FUCKER WHO PUT ME INSIDE OF THIS THING? I AM GOING TO KILL HIM FOR-" Brother-captain Detrich roared.

He was cut off by the Apothecary brother-captain "I was the one who led the team in entombing you in the contemptor dreadnaught, Detrich. The young apothecary who worked on your body until I made the decision to entomb you made no mistakes. It wasn't his fault that the shrapnel inside your body paralyzed you." 

"THE LITTLE SHIT SHOULD HAVE LET ME DIE ON THE TABLE! I DON'T WANT TO BE TRAPPED AND FEELING NOTHING FOR ALL ETERNITY!" Detrich bellowed back, still yelling.

"And leave your apprentice un-avenged?" One of the convalescing Interceptors asked, sitting up a little from the cot he was laying on "I heard you tell the kid that you'd haunt him forever if he let you die."

"..." Detrich didn't verbally respond, though he stopped resisting the tech marines as they checked over his new systems "Fine. I won't murder the little fucker for not letting me die gloriously. But don't expect me to thank any of you fuckers for this."

"None of us expected you to do that, Detrich. However, your systems are fully functional. Are you ready to spread His light and fury to the foul xenos who threaten this world?"

"Always! FOR THE EMPEROR!" And with that, the new dreadnaught charged off into battle.

[rocicrew]

for the prompt list: Alex/Holden #32 <3

prompt: “My patience is wearing thin”

Holden was tired. The kind of bone-deep tiredness that doesn't go away with sleep. Not that he was getting much of it in the first place. Not after the Cant, Eros... The Hybrid... Going back to an empty bed... Even with enough painkillers in his system to knock him out for two shift cycles. 

He dealt with it, more or less. Tried not to put too much weight on his leg and silently thanked Alex for the low third of a G he kept the Roci's gravity. At least, when they're not rescuing high-ranking Earther politicians and rogues Martians.

He attempted to mind his reactions to others. The past few weeks he had been less than an ideal Captain, let alone crewmate. Though, attempt was the keyword. He still hadn't managed it fully. He had yelled at Alex, snapped at Naomi, and Avasarala had kept pestering him about getting once more involved in the war. He already had a long list of regrets to make up for, he didn't need another thing to screw up.

He was so tired. 

So much, in fact, that he didn't notice Alex walking into the galley before he spoke.

"Oh, hey Hoss," Alex greeted while removing his headphones. "Didn't expect to find you here so early."

"It's quiet," Holden offered in return, even though, it was less of an explanation and more of a cop-out answer. 

Alex just nodded, taking in his answer. If Holden had paid more attention, he'd have noticed him working the courage to ask him the following question. But instead, it'd just caught him off-guard. 

"You doing okay? I mean with your leg and everything going on... It's... It's got to be... rough, right?"

"I'm sorry," Holden replied instead, which only confused Alex. He didn't get it and Holden as much as he'd like to, knew he couldn't avoid talking about it head-on. "About earlier," he started and then cut himself off because earlier didn't even begin to describe it. There were so many times earlier could describe, and the bitterness he felt had nothing to do with the cup of coffee in front of it. "I yelled at you, again. I keep taking it out on you, on this crew for weeks, and- I'm sorry." 

What more could he say besides genuinely apologizing?

"It's all right," Alex said and was cheery enough to smile at him. Of all the ways he thought this conversation would go, a dismissal hadn't crossed his mind as a possibility. 

"It's not-"

"Look, Eros did a number on us. You most of all. I understand you are not being exactly yourself. And everything after... I mean, we've got the UN Undersecretary running around the ship suddenly, and Nao-" Alex cut himself off looking apologetic. "What I mean is, how are you really feeling?"

Holden made a comical expression; a mix of a shrug, raised brows, and twisted lips, that could only begin to describe the pool of emotions that swam in the cavity of his chest. "My patience is wearing thin."

Alex nodded, taking it in, and slowly sipped from his bulb. "Yeah, could tell you that much," he said and Holden immediately winced, pointedly avoiding making eye contact with the broken coffee machine.

He wasn't proud of it, or any of his latest behavior but the only thing he could do was accept the consequences. It hurt more than he wanted to acknowledge that after everything Naomi couldn't trust him. It hurt because he did trust her wholly. In the middle of every terrible, shitty thing they went through, he knew he could turn to her. At a time when he couldn't even trust his own body not to fail him, he believed Naomi wouldn't. 

None of it was fair. She was her own person with her own demons and as much as they tried to ignore everything else and distract one another, it was bound to blow into their faces. 

And she'd taken the one thing that kept him up at night. The one thing he hadn't been able to leave back to Eros after escaping.

But hearing her explanation, knowing he reminded her of- Just the thought made him sick. No matter how many times he could say that he wasn't like that, that he could never hurt her like that and mean it, wouldn't erase his failure. His failure to be a better crewman, a better partner, a better person. 

"Sorry Jim, I didn't mean it like that," Alex was quick to try and smooth over the sudden shift in the atmosphere. 

A better son. 

"Avasarala mentioned my mom," Holden blurted out. "One of my mothers, Elise."

He stopped not knowing how to say the rest. About leaving and running, and the guilt that was always present. He knew what she was doing and he fell for it anyway. 

"How many years has it been?" Alex asked instead.

Jim didn't do the math. That would weigh on him more. "I left when I was eighteen." 

Left. Like it was a choice. Like he would've been enough otherwise.

They've talked since then, of course. They managed to have a steady communication before the shitstorm happened.

He still hadn't looked up toward Alex until he heard the other speak.

"Yeah, I know a thing or two about leaving people behind," Alex said and a sharp memory of the picture with Alex's wife and son hit him out of nowhere. Right, Alex had left a son (and so had Naomi-). What right did he have t- "I'm not proud of it, but... you can love your family with everything you have and still... find your place somewhere else."

The lump in his throat disappeared, and he reached out to cover Alex's hand and squeezed.

"Even if that place's captain is sometimes an asshole?"

"As long as you don't break the oven next, we're good," Alex joked.

"Hey, that's-" Holden protested.

"Deserved," Alex argued back.

"A little, yeah..."

They didn't solve anything but he felt lighter anyway.

"So, uh," Alex started again. "Naomi said she'd come to talk to you. Did you two... y'know..."

They were having this kind of talk now... Holden took a sip from his coffee to brace himself and began replying in broad strokes. Naomi's story was hers. But he could talk about them in general.

They stayed in the galley for a long time talking until their hand terminals chimed and reality found its way back to them.

[abbyheilman]

The blonde figured it wasn't. At least not his intent to ask her to remain single for his sake or to never have someone and to stop herself from being up front about it in front of him. At least she hoped not so she didn't immediately react when he confirmed her suspicions. The jealousy game had taken its own toll on her as she wondered if the time he'd cheated had kind of been like that, where some girl had tried to lay her claim on him and he'd just gotten tired of telling them no. Part of her could make herself sick wondering if she'd even crossed her mind, whether he'd intently chosen someone who didn't resemble her so he didn't think of her or didn't say the name of the girlfriend that was at home waiting for him. She hated the idea of it and never wanted to see a version of that again. Even if he told her that he wouldn't have done that with a girlfriend, she couldn't take him at face value. Not with their history. "I didn't find amusement in it." She told him frankly because the guy she'd kissed had been the last person she wanted touching her. It didn't help that she had anger and slight hatred to fuel her during the whole thing and while they promised not to do that again, the situation was the same for her. Those emotions would still linger without a way to get out. "I know I am." She said as she looked over at him briefly. Maybe he had forgotten that she was so long ago but Abby knew she'd been a good girlfriend. That she could still be one but she didn't exactly know how to get there. Whether she was ready to try and trust someone with her heart again. Either way, that was for her to figure out on her own at some point in her life, but right now, she had to get over her past.

While Abby had one her best to remind the male of all the things he'd fucked up and how it was purely his fault that they were where they were today, she could see how it ate at him. The brief glimpses were showing true intent now that his facade had dropped some with the alcohol he'd drank. She couldn't make him feel worse than he felt and while that thought should have made her happy, it only saddened her. Whether there was some regret and he couldn't admit to it or not, Abby couldn't make that better for him. He would need to get through that just as she would have to deal with their past on her ow as well and learn how to rebuild herself after he'd shattered her. "What's done is done." She added quietly, trying to put some sense into his mind because while most of what he was saying came from his heart, he would be kicking himself come morning when he realized that he'd opened up more than he ever wanted to. Additionally, she did her best to try and protect herself as she had gone through enough of his push and pull. He'd say or do things that maybe gave her one impression but would immediately pull it away and leave her hurt all over again. While these words were some of the ones she'd always wanted to hear, she took them with a grain of salt to protect herself. Abby watched him quietly while looked around and got his bearings on where his apartment was, raising her brow when she took it in. It was a nice building. Curiosity got the best of her and she followed his steps towards the home. If she were honest, she wanted to see how he lived and whether his home was as nice as she imagined it to be. There wasn't much jealous given that her building was a far cry from this one but mere realization that maybe this could have been her life had they stayed together. However, the thought was instantly pushed to the back of her head. She couldn't allow herself to do something they would both regret come morning because of the high emotions that ran between the two of them while they'd had too much to drink.

Her foot rose on the first step but she halted at his comment about admitting that he'd abandoned her. She had told him the night she'd seen him at the nightclub and she couldn't help but sighed. "I don't need to tell you." Clearly he knew if he was bringing it up. "You broke me." She didn't want to kick him while he was down but abandoning her had only been a fraction of it, though it was what hurt her the most. Even through all these years, he had every opportunity to come back and apologize or even be there for her while she lost her family and went through having to care for the funeral and property but he'd never returned. After she took a deep breath, she looked at the door and nodded her head. "I want to meet your dog." Abby had always been an animal lover. It would likely kill her to have to meet the dog he had and then leaving knowing she'd likely never see it again but the curiosity of seeing how he lived also had her going forward. "You don't have to stay in your room, though I think you're going to need to lie down." He didn't seem like he'd stay up for much longer so she suspected the earlier she could get him to bed, the better. Following him into his apartment, the blonde stood behind the male and kept her eyes at their feet to see if she could spot the dog that belonged to him. Clearly it wouldn't be hard to miss since he'd mentioned that it was a large breed. "Fang, right? A boy or a girl?" She asked him as she smiled when she saw the animal, getting on her knees in preparation to be greeted, with an hand extended so the dog could smell her. "He's beautiful." She said as she ran her fingers over the animal, petting him behind the ears. With her busy schedule, she hadn't been able to get a pet of her own even though she'd come close many times before due to loneliness and needing something to care for but she always backed down because she didn't feel that it as fair to leave the animal alone for hours on end while she worked around the clock as a nurse with added time at the strip club. "I think he likes me." She laughed as she glanced at him and back at the dog. "When did you get Fang?" The dog didn't seem that old but she wondered if it was for the same reason she wanted one, except she didn't want to ask. After a few seconds, she moved to the sink. "I think you should get in bed. I'll get you a glass of water and then I'll let myself out. I'll lock the door behind me"

"No, that's not what I was asking." It seemed like embarrassment had taken jealousy's place in this situation. Forever regretting his wording since he definitely hadn't meant for it to be taken like that. From the get-go he only wanted her happiness. A part of him knew a reason why he had been single, his lifestyle didn't make it easy for anyone. He would have been a liar and a hypocrite to bring someone in when Nash had already ripped love from his life. Abby had been his person. She was that love. A man always remembers his first love with special tenderness. That was why he could never forget her even if sometimes it would have been easier. But then he had harsh reminders that he was the one behind the heart break. He experienced loss to a degree too. Was it really worth all the pain? For both of them? Recently, he wasn't so sure. " I meant not trying to make the other jealous." Nash replied sighing. "I wasn't lying when I said you were a keeper. I'm not going cock block you." And most times then not, if he was going to entertain someone he usually did it out of Tonopah valley. Not that he was about to admit such things, as even if liquid courage was making his words leave his mouth so openly and unhinged - there were just some things you kept quiet about. "If I wasn't single I wouldn't have let that girl grind on me." However it was too late, more word vomit. He realized that his actions spoke louder then words. And he would have to face the consequences, in regards to the lie he spoke of years and years ago. Once a cheater always one right? That stigma he felt was true. People don’t change unless they want to. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. However Nash had never in his life cheated. Well, on another person at least. But he suddenly was flooded with nervousness at his little confession.

As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others. Nash had always been a provider, a protector but he was naive also. In thinking he could make decisions that were for the greater good. He hadn't let her make that choice, instead he ripped the opportunity from her. This wasn't new information that came masked in some kind of hidden form. He wasn't betrayed by his inner workings. Nash just realized that a little too late. Especially now in the present. There was no rewind in life and he had to be man enough to admit to such, even if not out loud. He also had to live with his choices. Which was a task all on it's own. With the Whiskey in him, it kind of made him numb from feeling all the anger and the broken feeling that seemed to be holding on to him, suffocating him into submission. It made the weight he held on his shoulders a little less heavy. But it was a false reality. Perhaps he wouldn't remember the feeling or the events that were currently in motion. Or if he did, it would just shatter him more into even tinier pieces. He already was a fraction of the person he was back then with her in his life. One had to play your strengths. If you aren’t great at something, do more of what you’re great at. That was the thing though, another lesson that was learned way too late. She was his strength. She always made him stronger even in ways she didn't mean for. "I still am trying to figure that one out." There was no skepticism. Nash would be his own downfall. But, better to self destruct then to bring someone down with you in the process.

"No, that's not going to happen. I have done enough damage." Vulnerability again had begun to strike. It's having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. If she really wanted to fight him on this, he wasn't sure there was much more in him. So, he had to use a last resort of such. Nash was well familiar in the poison she thought was the club. Nash's and her feelings weren't the same in that regards but there was a certain understanding he could lend towards the whole situation. "Please, I don't want you to have to put yourself through that." Perhaps another downfall of the male's was trying to make decisions of what he thought was best. "Okay." The last thing they needed was another fight about money, so he let it go. Not that he had much fight in him now, the last bit of fuel he had was trying to navigate his two feet back home. But like most of life, it was a challenge and even though it wasn't far from where they stood - with being not sober everything became too complicated in a sense of direction. "I don't want to hide anymore." The man confessed. A response to her comment. But he pushed himself to get them moving. Well, more so himself since he only had the answers here of where he lived. Hues searched, grumbling at not seeing anything that looked familiar. He turned around full circle and that was the worst decision of the whole night it seemed. Get yourself together man. Then he saw sight of his neighbors shitty ass low rider parked on the side of the street. "It's right up there. Third Floor." Nash exhaled feeling like he had run a never ending marathon. He was too drunk for this. But he managed to give himself another hard nudge towards the finish line of sorts. Finally, he had lead them to the front of his building. He was going to regret climbing all these stairs. But maybe that was the kick in the ass he needed to sober him up. Nash turned back to her, a little delayed in his response but that was the trend here with her last words. "You know, you can say it. I abandoned you." Drunk words are sober thoughts like she had noted. His lip trembled briefly. "Do you want to come up? You can meet my 160 pound lap dog. I can wait in my room until you can call an Uber. Or I can wait here. I probably need to sit down anyways." Not sure if she was comfortable with the setting he had offered, he couldn't blame her but there was a need to make sure she was able to get an Uber so she could go home. She took care of him and now it was his turn to return the favor.

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

We Met Within This Screen [chapt. 7]

[Donnie x reader]

chapter 6 here

"Nothing gets past me, especially not you and your nervous habits, Donatello," Splinter's voice bounced around Donnie's head. 

The brothers all looked at each other incredulously, Donnie's anxiousness replaced by complete bafflement. Everyone was wondering the same thing: How did he know?

"You wonder how I knew," Splinter said pointedly, "as if you four are any good at keeping a secret."

They waited for him to go on, but instead there was another uncomfortable pause, Splinter assumedly expecting them to say something. It was Mikey who finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna, like...tell us what we did wrong? How you knew? So next you can't—"

Splinter scoffed and brought his staff down on the youngest's foot. Mikey yelped, bouncing away on one leg. "Teach you how to lie? I have taught you many skills, but one that will always elude you is how to keep something from me. Parents have a sixth sense, you know." He turned to Donnie, regarding the rest of them with a dismissive wave of his hand, "You three, to your rooms. Come to the dojo with me, Donatello." 

The three were quick to scatter, Mikey whining into Raph's ear about being sent to their rooms so early, and Raph huffing that he'd been dragged in too. 

Swallowing, Donnie followed behind him a few paces, not sure what to expect but nervous all the same. He was lead in and instructed to sit down on the floor, Splinter settling down in front of him. Donnie's fingers brushed along the ridges of the knuckles of his other hand again and again as he tried to find something to occupy them with. 

Resting his palms in his hands, Splinter began to talk, voice less harsh than Donnie had anticipated. "I know that we lead a very isolated life, my son. But you must keep your priorities in perspective. You four need each other, and betraying one another's trust does not help that case."

"I'm sorry, Master Splinter," Donnie apologized and hung his head. 

"Perhaps you should apologize to your brothers, just as they should to you." 

I did put them on the spot, especially Leo, thought Donnie, considering now that he had put him and Raph in a weird position. They had to choose between ratting on him to Splinter and keeping it under wraps for the sake of not stirring up the pot needlessly. As much as Leo was a stickler for the rules, he didn't want to create dissension between him and Donnie. So, they chose the latter option, and now all four were in trouble with their father. 

"Okay. I guess...but, Master Splinter, how did you know?" 

"About your secret antics?" 

Donnie let out a humorless chortle, feeling a twinge of embarrassment that he had actually thought at some point, he was getting away with anything. "Yeah, it...it wasn't very much of a secret."

Stroking his chin, Splinter plainly said, "It was only a suspicion, until you confirmed it."

That night a few weeks ago when Splinter came to him in his lab. The way he squeaked when he was confronted just prior to them going to talk alone. Why didn't I think of that? It was a classic trick, one their father had deployed quite a few times on them. He'd been baited into giving himself away. None of them could tell when he was bluffing or if he actually knew. Save for Leo, who managed only twice in their time to make heads or tails of it. 

"I really walked right into that one," Donnie whimpered under his breath, palms pressing down on his knees. 

"You did. But," his tone turned more serious, looking him dead in the eye, "you must fix your mistakes, son." 

 "How?" asked Donnie softly, searching for his father's guidance, but it would find no purchase. He was hard pressed to find a solution immediately. 

Splinter shut his eyes and thought. It was a tricky situation, indeed. He gathered that if anything, this was an excellent lesson for Donnie, as well as the others. Under his own supervision, of course; there wasn't room for any more blundering. 

Standing up, he placed his staff under his hand. "I trust that you will find a way. You have a brilliant mind, Donatello. Use it well," he told him, and went to leave the training room. 

Donnie was still sat on the floor contemplating Splinter's words, honored yet uneasy at the same time that he was being entrusted to fix things. How, he didn't know. Truly. He was at war with himself trying to balance his logic with his emotions, trying to make the two meet gracefully, but it felt impossible. Whichever road he chose, it was a betrayal to the other. One left behind while the other took the wheel. And thoughtlessly, he blurted out, "What if your heart is telling you something completely different, Sensei? What if everything feels contradictory, and—and like there's no right answer, even though you do have this mind, you just can't seem to…" 

Donnie's voice tapered. Slightly surprised, Splinter stopped in his tracks, brows high as he looked back at him, who was so clearly riddled with a deeper kind of conflict. Critically discouraged, but still the sliver of will in those eyes of his. His heart went out to him. 

Splinter had known that Donnie was interacting with a human. What he hadn't known was that he was in love with the human. 

There was a moment of understanding, and Splinter realized that Donnie could not do this on his own. It reminded him of the times the turtles had all been children, the way Donnie looked to him for wisdom as he grappled with himself. Sighing, Splinter sat back down, this time close to him. Donnie was despondent, reverting to staring at the edge of the mat he sat on. "I know your struggles, my son. It seems like there's a sacrifice no matter what you choose, does it not?" 

"I don't want to let you guys down. But, I...you know, I'm sorry, Master Splinter, but you don't understand." 

He didn't want to say bluntly that he wanted to think of himself and his needs, unlike usual. He knew Splinter would probably not approve of that. None of them had much of a chance to make a selfish decision, aside from everyday things such tucking into the pizza before it even made it back to the Lair. So far, the number of times he could recall making a consequential choice for the sole purpose of indulging himself, was an astounding zero. 

"What makes you think I would not understand?" questioned Splinter, and Donnie regretted that he'd said it. He didn't miss how Donnie looked to be becoming mildly sour (among other things), though not at him specifically.

It was then Donnie clammed up, shut down the conversation, he was not going to say it. "It" being what he assumed Splinter wasn't privy to, that he had undoubtedly fallen hard for his friend. But knowing his father, he could totally have had a clue. Splinter didn't always need the details to make an assessment when it came to his sons, whom he knew all too well.

Letting out a crestfallen huff, Donnie rested his chin on his knee, arm obstructing the better half of his face. "It doesn't matter," he mumbled. 

Splinter stayed quiet. He didn't want to drive Donnie off—not when he was in such a turmoil. The atmosphere changed to a cold one. Donnie didn't acknowledge him until he put his hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze and saying, "I will tell you again: I trust that you will figure it out." 

What if I make the wrong decision? 

"For all of our sakes, I hope you're right, Sensei," Donnie responded. Splinter smiled and got up, prepared to leave the matter at that until any further updates. Until the phone in Donnie's back pocket began to vibrate out of the blue. He wanted to answer, but what, at that point? What should he say? 

A minute went by of more persistent vibrating, and Splinter's ear twitched, certain he knew who it was. He was disappointed with the carelessness that had brought them to that moment, but what was done was done. None knew if the girl had any suspicions. "Are you going to answer it?" he asked, sort of prompting him to pick the phone up. 

"May I?" Donnie thought he might have sounded a little eager.

Splinter let out a calm hum and motioned for him to do it. Donnie lifted his finger to press accept, but Splinter interrupted firmly, "Speaker, Donatello."

Eyes flitting to Splinter, he accepted the call and reluctantly turned on the speaker. 

"Bo, what was all of that earlier, dude? You had me worried sick!" spoke [y/n], more concerned than angry (which Donnie was somewhat relieved about), but he sunk down sheepishly upon seeing the look on his father's face. He gave Donnie a questionable glance at the word "Bo", as he wasn't aware of the details. Donnie wasn't about to correct her right now. 

"I–...hey, [y/n]," he said, forcing himself to turn to the side so he wouldn't have to look at Splinter. The eyes on him made him feel put off to the point he couldn't focus on her voice, but the fact that Splinter was right there, listening in, and both were fixing to find out just what kind of mess they had on their hands. "Believe me when I tell you, you don't want to get caught up in this," he told her, "I can't—"

"Listen," she started, exasperated, "I've heard it before. 'I can't tell you this', and 'I can't tell you that'," she went on, "Be honest with me, Bo; is it that you can't or you just won't?"  

Splinter's thoughts were undetermined. Donnie couldn't read anything from his stoic expression. 

"It's not that I won't," he rebutted, pitch going up involuntarily, "Why won't you listen to me when I say I can't?" 

"Because there's something going on, with you, and I know my eyes weren't just playing tricks on me. I saw something crazy—I heard it, too, when I called you the other day!" 

I am so dead. Donnie's stomach did a flip. He couldn't face his father, but behind him, Splinter placed his hand on his face, covering his eyes. He shot Donnie an intimidating glance, and Donnie waved his hands nervously, listening to her go on as he backed up. Pivoting around from the jabs sent to his side by Splinter's staff, he jumped away with his comically long stride, trying to avoid the onslaught while juggling the phone. He muffled a grunf of pain when the cane managed to whack his head. 

"Hold on!" he said, and Splinter stopped and narrowed his eyes, the voice on the other end of the phone also going silent. Donnie couldn't regain his composure while being chased around the dojo, so he finally was able to sputter out, "W-what did you see?" 

"I was on the balcony, 'Don'. I heard your voice on the phone and saying the same thing from the roof, and saw two giant...turtles! With weapons, fighting what looked like ninjas?! What even is this?" she yelled. 

She'd put two and two together. There was no fixing. 

Only acceptance. 

Blinking, Donnie nearly dropped the phone. Splinter shut his eyes, slowly shook his head, and turned around. The sound of his cane tapping the floor as he walked was the only thing he could hear after he tuned out the speaker. 

He was now alone in the dojo, under the light that streamed through the grate above him, standing in the hush. 

He turned the speaker off. She, on the other end, was quiet, too, in disbelief. And probably rightfully feeling betrayed, in a way, Donnie thought. The friend she'd come to care for so much turned out to be someone she couldn't have even imagined. 

Licking his lips, he put on the most level tone he could and said in a struggle, "You can't tell anyone. I-if you say something, I'll... we'll…"

I could never threaten you, [y/n]. 

"You'll what?" she asked, voice low.

Then, all the could hear was her breathing. The dojo was completely quiet, the room was large, and there he was, in the middle. Donnie liked smaller spaces. Darker spaces, like his lab. He felt exposed in that moment, even when no one could see him.

"Be in danger," he said in earnest.

There was some rustling, then the sound of wind on her end. He barely heard a sliding door shut.

"Come here," she told him firmly. 

His eyes went wide. "What?" he questioned, stupefied.

She sighed, "No more lying, Bo—Don—I don't know. If what we have really matters to you…"

A mix of emotions swirled in him as he waited for her words. She hesitated.

"I'll come," he whispered, finishing her sentence. 

"You'll come." 

Blowing a breath out from between his lips, and nodded. Sorry, Master Splinter. 

He snuck through the Lair to the exit of the sewers.

[saffron-nova21]

XIX. Secret Tours

Remember Me Masterlist

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

Warnings: Strong language

A/N: I know, I’m so sorry about the lack of a read more, I might try to add one later, but currently, they aren’t working on my phone and my laptop is out of commission. I’m really, really sorry, guys.

...

With a sweet, but sleepy, smile plastered on your lips, you step away from the train with Atsumu, your bag slung over your shoulder, finding yourself excited to meet Tetsurō in person. You might not have known him for very long, nor had you met him in person yet, but all he’d been was a good friend to you. One you had come to need and depend on, with all that had been going on in your life. All of those lonely days, who had texted you and grounded you throughout all of it? Not your brother, not any of your team mates, no... It had been a stranger you’d met through Twitter, by pure coincidence.

He was the one who had knocked some sense into you to stop giving Rintarō chances. He was the one who talked you into telling Atsumu what had happened, rather than continuing to allow yourself to be manipulated. He had been the one to tell you that quitting volleyball club and practicing on your own would be best, with the way the other team members continuously made you feel like shit and gave you the cold shoulder.

When you spot he and his best friend standing there, the latter with a game in his hands, you nearly jump out of your skin as a jolt of excitement runs through you.

Looking at who who assumed to be Kenma, you found yourself touched that Kenma continuously glanced up to search for you, immediately getting the sense that he probably didn’t do that very often.

You end up walking towards them without a word to your best friend. Though Atsumu would tease you later on, saying you were borderline running to the two. When they caught sight of you, Kenma and Tetsurō go bug-eyed for a moment. Kenma’s arms fall a bit as his attention shifts to you, completely.

Both of them were quickly able to come to one conclusion: Any pictures of you did you no justice.

As you reach them, you stop just short of them, having to retrain yourself from leaping on them both... They’d been so good to you, it only felt normal to want to hug them.

“Hi,” you grin at them both, effectively breaking their momentarily stunned silence, your smile shining nearly as brightly as the sun.

A grin emerges on Tetsurō’s face as he shakes his head and offers open arms, to which you nearly jump in, hugging him tightly. Very quickly, he had become your anchor, being there for you and believing in you, when even your team lost faith in you and you could only hope your embrace conveyed all of the emotions that you couldn’t voice.

Hugging Tetsurō felt like hugging an old friend, or an older brother you never got to see. His embrace felt warm and it made this sense of security wash over you that you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Ready to go?”

“Of - fucking - course I am!” Your voice attracts the attention of people around you and makes Kenma look back down at his screen, being knocked from his trance. He hadn’t been staring, he hadn’t been staring, he hadn’t been stari — “I get to come and play volleyball with some of Tokyo’s best. Not to mention, Tokyo has some other-worldly pretty setters.”

Kenma doesn’t respond, his head just shooting up to give you a brief, almost confused glance look before returning his attention to his gaming device.

Though you don’t miss the reddening of his ears.

“Yeah, I meant you, Kenma, baby.” You grin, finally slipping from Tetsurō’s embrace to look at Kenma, who looks at you again.

Momentarily, the faux-blonde looks confused, before he lets out a small exhale, opening his own arms to you. Moving forward, you embrace him, without a care in the world that you hardly knew him. And as he rests his chin on your shoulder, you miss the slight smile that forms on his lips.

Pulling away after a moment, you allow Kenma back to his game, “You guys give some amazing fucking hugs. Just thought you should know.” You inform them, before turning to face an oddly quiet Atsumu.

You always complimented people a lot and borderline flirted with everyone around you, until you and Suna started dating. And now, you were back to being your normal flirty self.

Though Atsumu was the same way, consistently flirting with everything that breathed.

You both weren’t together, you’d just been flirting, putting your past feelings out in the open, and opening the doors to a relationship between you both maybe having a relationship one day.

There was nothing exclusive between you both, as far as you were aware. Not to mention that he was still talking up a storm with his fan club, just yesterday.

But apparently you were wrong.

...

You shouldn’t have been as excited as you were about touring Nekoma High. You’d be transferring for your final year of high school, leaving behind all of the people you’d met. Leaving, even if Suna could regain his memories any day now, leaving even though you and Atsumu had only just laid out all of your feelings out on the table, together.

As you approach the large gym, a smile forms on your face, eyes shining as if you’d just opened a present. Everyone around you could see the way you picked up your pace and held your head up higher, even if you didn’t quite notice it.

Entering the gym, you looked around, glancing at all of the people who looked towards you at your entrance. As much as you wanted to shy away from the attention, you couldn’t, just grinning as Tetsurō comes to stand next to you.

The realization seems to hit them, the teams walking over to speak and introduce themselves.

You were so caught up that you didn’t notice the way Atsumu watched you. Even though he introduced himself and conversed with his normal lazy smirk, he couldn’t miss the way you smiled.

For so many weeks, your smiles had been half-hearted. They hadn’t quite reached your eyes, and everyday, it seemed like you were dragging your feet, just waiting, wishing the days would come to an end. So how could he miss your first genuine smile in weeks? How could he miss the way your eyes lit up, while you looked around? How could he miss the way you spoke to them excitedly, without having to hold your tongue for fear of people attacking you for what you said? How could he miss the way you clicked so easily with these people?

That's the thing. He couldn't.

...

"I think you'll really like the people here, too. Of course, every high school can have a toxic atmosphere, but it hasn't really ever gotten half as bad over here as what you've had to deal with, in the past months." Tetsurō explains with a grin playing on his lips.

"Over here are some of our other clubs. I assumed you'd be signing up for the volleyball club, but in case you truly wanted a clean break, here you are." Reaching a hand to the bulletin, he pulls off one of the many sheets, filled with different clubs. "Do you want to look at the classrooms, or would you rather tour the courtyard?"

Thinking momentarily, you roll your shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, "Honestly, you said it yourself, the Chemistry classroom was the most interesting and you already showed it to me, so the courtyard sounds best."

With a nod and a teasing smirk cast in your direction, a 'this way, your highness' came from your friend.

Walking to the courtyard with Tetsurō, you smile, "So... Kenma. He's... Interesting."

The Captain goes bug-eyed at your words, though it's hidden behind a curtain of messy black hair, from the angle you're looking at him. He quickly hides it with a discreet shake of his head. "What happened to that setter of yours, that you were so in-love with?"

Embarrassment floods you, your face growing warm as your bring a hand to rub the back of your neck. "What-?" Your feigned ignorance doesn't fly with your new friend, though, who makes you drop your 'act' with a knowing look. "Look, I love Atsumu... But am I in love with him?" You sigh. "I told him that it might be possible that I attempted to move on with him... But I know how he's going to take it, when I tell him I'm changing schools.

"I love Atsumu, I do... But I know him better than anyone else. Except for maybe Osamu. And knowing him so well means knowing that he's not going to want to accept it. He's going to think I'm abandoning him and lash out. Then he'll feel guilty, but won't apologize, because he's prideful."

Tetsurō furrows his brows, looking at you, "Then what are you going to do? Just not say anything when you disappear, next school year?"

Looking around, you smile a bit up at the bright blue sky. A few fluffy white clouds decorated it, but otherwise, it was nothing but clear skies. It almost made you forget the fact that Atsumu wouldn't be able to handle you moving schools. He'd nearly lost his shit when you had changed middle schools and the only way that he had kept his cool was knowing you'd be going to the same high school together.

"I don't know."

Tetsurō nods a bit in understanding, opting not to say much more on the topic.

As Tetsurō continued to give you the tour, neither of you noticed the texts from Kenma, warning you that Atsumu had left the gym in search of 'the bathroom' and hadn't come back.

And you would soon find yourself regretting not checking your phone.

Tetsurō honestly hopes that you and Kenma get along. He worries about Kenma, for after he goes to university, and knowing that he's leaving someone behind who will make sure Kenma takes care of himself makes him feel a lot better.

Atsumu wants you happy. But he wants you happy with him. Even if you're not dating, he knows distance can ruin friendships.

You know that you're attracted to Kenma - of course, you wouldn't call it a crush since you only just met him, but you do want to get to know him more.

I hope you guys are enjoying, still!

You guys better be eating some food, drinking some water, and taking care of yourselves mentally and physically. But remember, no matter what, I'm proud of you and I love you. You're doing great, today. Even if you just got out of bed, keep it up, because you're doing great, alright? Things will get better, I promise.

Taglist:

@kookie-doughs @halesandy @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @kac-chowsballs @saltylettuce @its-the-aerieljeane @javj @ash-levi @babyshoyo @hiraeth-z @random-fandom-girl-24 @kodzuklutz @tsukkiswifeey @thollandx @pandauniverse @starylust

[gloomyhearts]

Mellilla || Owen P. Joyner

Chapter five~ you haven't changed a bit

Valerie sat on her bed while Dahlia searched through her closet.

"I don't know why you're doing this"

"I.. it's..just look at him," she toss a picture frame on her bed next to Valerie.

It was taken on his prom, he asked her to be his date really casual when they were sitting at the lake a few minutes of car drive.

She wore an emerald green long sleeve wrap dress and he a black suit with a tie in the same color as her dress. Some of the students asked if they'd be a couple, after frowning they denied.

"You kept this? Really D?"

"I look cute?" She shruggs her shoulder and continued to search for the best outfit.

She decides to wear her black flannel and a green pullover on top. Her black skinny jeans and high converse a must do.

"Okay you look stunning, babe."

"Thank you. Should I take a jacket?"

"Just in case" Dahlia grabs her jeans jacket. On the way to the door she also takes her keys and wallet.

"Does he gets you or.?"

"I'm driving myself." She shuts the door softly, making her way over to the car.

His mom didn't appreciate that he'd be spending a few days before Thanksgiving out. Even due to the fact that there's a pandemic going on.

The teenager planed on ordering their food, just one of them going into the restaurant and then they'd be driving to a park or similar to eat the delicious food.

Owen was on FaceTime with Charlie, Jeremy and Madison.

"And this?" He shows him his third outfit. Charlie groaned everytime he presented one.

On his upper body was a black long sleeve shirt with a white one which had the pizza planet logo, on top. A pink beanie suited his head, still some strands of his now ear long blond hair, fell out.

"This looks perfect Owen," Jeremy states and the other two nodded in agreement.

"Sure? Isn't this beanie too much?" He almost had his hand on it to remove it.

"Stop," his mother steps into his room, "that's great, hun," and then she left.

"I love your mom," Madison breaks the silence.

"Yeah, she's so awesome."

"Right." Owen rolled his eyes at his friends.

"And which jacket?" He had three on his arm.

"The black jeans."

"No. No the thick one to give her when she cold, " Jeremy suggests.

"But she'll have her own," Charlie argues.

"But girls wanna be stylish."

"And?"

"What does that mean, Jer. I'm offended." The group erupts in laughter.

"Well I'm the married one, trust me" he winked at him.

"Okay.. Okay," his voice shakes slightly.

"It's gonna be good, dude," Charlie sent him a resuring smile.

"Hopefully," he glimpses at his watch.

"Gotta go. Talk to you later," he waved at them and exits the call.

The young adults arrived at the same time at the diner. Afterwards it was dopey from Owen to let her driver here herself, he really regrets it.

They parked and Owen walked to her car. He held her the door open.

She's even more beautiful without her mask.

"Hey," he began.

"You already know what you want?" He stretches his neck avoiding her eyes.

"A grilled cheese sandwich. Please."

"Good choice. Something to drink?" She shakes her head pointing to a water bottle she had in her car. He gave her a thumbs up and walked into the diner.

Dahlia sat down in her car again resting her head against the backseat.

Owen knocked on her window raising the bag full of food into the air.

"It smells so delicious," she states as he enters her car.

Owen came up with the idea he could park his car here and she would drive them to the park.

"Can't wait to swallow it."

During the ride the radio played quietly a few songs from the charts but that bothered the two of them not really much.

They arrived at the park and exited the car. Soon they made their way over to a bench in the far back of it.

He hands her the sandwich and placed his fries in between their bodies.

She watched every move of him but as his graze fell on her she immediately turned away.

"Soo."

"Soo," a sad smile placed on her lips.

"What are you studying?" He took a bite of his burger.

"Environmental science is my major and classical Latin as minor."

"Environmental? That's fantastic," Owen states after swallowing his bite.

"Yeah. It's really interesting."

"And why did you chose it?"

"I want to make a change. When every single one of us starts by oneself we're able to change the behavior and turn the world a better place." He nods in agreement.

"That's great. I mean I think so too."

The pair both reached for a fries as their finger touch lightly. She swallowed the limp that formed in her throat and he cleared his, his hand slowly removing from her. The spot where the other touched them burned. Both longing to repeat it, holding it longer.

She felt his graze on her but she didn't dare to eye him.

"You still play volleyball?" She nodded her voice surely would fail.

"And the piano?" Dahlia shakes her head.

"Why?"

She inhales deeply.

"It just didn't felt right. Sometimes I played at some shows at school but since my graduation not once."

"More than a year, that's.. gosh!"

"It's indifferent. I've got impotence things to do."

"Right saving the world," he nudged her side as he let out a chuckle.

"Yeah. Yeah obviously," Dahlia stutters.

Her fragile body began to shake slightly, her jacket was obviously not thick enough.

"You're alright?" He looks down at her.

"Totally."

"Do you want my jacket?"

"If it's no trouble to you." a shy smile suited her lips as her eyes fell on him for the first time since they sat down. He looked he really cute with his beanie.

"You can wear mine if you wanna. Actually it's my brother's but he wouldn't mind." She raises her hand with the jacket to him. They exchanged them and dress themselves up.

Her hands curling around her middle, bringing the warm cloth near. Dahlia inhales his perfume deeply, the corners of her mouth lift up when the scent of wood meet her olfactory nerves. It was a long time since she smelt it the last time. Fun thing he never change the scent.

She sun began to set when they still sat on the bench, some pedestrians passed them, smiling at them.

"You wanna get some dessert?"

"I'd kill for." He raised up and hold his hand in front of her. Dahlia grabbed it hesitantly. Owen pulled her to her feet as well and intertwined their fingers together, she bit her her bottom lip, his touch causing butterflies in her stomach. He guided her towards the exit and to her car.

When they reached it he opened her door and she mumbles a quiet thanks.

She drove backto boomerangs so he could take his car and they'd meet ad Il dolce Gelato a few minutes away.

They met again in the parking lot and walked together into the shop.

"Hello," the waitress behind the tresen greats.

"Hey I'd like one scoop of raspberry and one of stracciatella, please," Dahlia 

"And you sir?" She asks as she hands Dahlia her order.

"Cappuccino and snickers please."

After receiving their order and paying they left and headed to their cars.

Owen opened his trunk door and sat down in it. He padded next to him for her to sit down as well.

"How can you eat cappuccino ice cream?" She knitted her brows watching him lick his scoop.

"Why not. It'd be better if it'd be coffee pur but they hadn't such a flavor," he laughed softly.

"You're strange." Dahlia chuckles.

"You're sure? The last time I checked you found it cute," her eyes wandered into the far.

"I didn't meant it like that, Lia." His left hand reaching for hers.

Her mood changed promptly, she draw from his touch.

"Sure." It was one word but it held so much emotions, anger, hurt, sadness, love.

She drags herself on her feet ready to step to her car but Owen's hand grabs hers.

"Hear me out, please." He stammers.

"Go ahead."

"I am.. I am sorry. I didn't wanted it to end like this... I didn't know what I'd do... I was overwhelmed by the whole situation," he stutters.

"Sorry doesn't fix everything. You didn't call. You didn't texted. Nothing. It was hurtful what you did. Didn't I mean anything to you cause the last time I checked I did, the exact day you just left. Spending time with me the day before so you don't have to say goodbye or what?!"

Owen opens his mouth but she continues.

"No, now it's my turn. I always wanted you to accomplish your dreams. I was your biggest fan until the day you left. Then you were dead to me. And now..." she inhales sharply.

"After three.. three damn years you show up out of nowhere thinking everything is allright between us," she points to her and then him.

"I just want this pain to be over." Her eyes welled up.

Dahlia opens the driver door, excepting to speak up but he never did so she enters her car.

[korijime]

You hit my line, And say it's alright I don't ask no questions, Just hold on tight Xiao feels his phone vibrate. Planning to throw it to the side and continue to vape. Of course, the vape is just water. You've been getting him to quit smoking for a while now and it's been working. He puts the pen away seeing the caller ID and answers. "Hello? Riyuu?" he retreats to his bedroom and sits on his swivel chair waiting for you to start talking. "Xiao! Ugh, I know we had something planned out for tomorrow but I'll need to cancel. I'm sorry!" you said. "Oh, okay. Just DM me when you're free again, okay?" he replied. "Okay! Thanks again!" you said after ending the call. 'Bullshit. It's all bullshit. You're hanging out with that Ajax-guy.' he thought to himself. Chucking his phone haphazardly onto the bed and letting himself fall into his sheets face first. An actual pack of cigarettes would've been really good right now. But sadly, he'd thrown his last pack away when you told him to. Don't wanna know; What keeps you close What changed your mind; What hurt you most "Hey Xiao, we've been friends for a while and I wanted to tell you something." you nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt. "What is it? Don't tell me you got caught up in Venti's bullshit again. The guy is such a freeloader" He looks up from his phone and looks attentively at you. "Tell me." he continues. "Well, before I begin, I just wanted to say that this doesn't change anything between us no matter what your response is... I just wanted to say that I have feelings for you. I've had them for a while now." you try to say get it out of your system as quick as possible. "No." he quickly replied, you froze. You knew this was coming so you softly smiled even if you felt a slight twinge in your heart. "It's okay, forget it. We can still be friends, right?" You said. Looking at him with hopeful eyes. "No- I mean- What I meant is-" Xiao sighed. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts before inhaling a deep breath. "I have feelings for you too. It's probably not as strong... but it's there. I just- I don't feel like I have the emotional capacity for a relationship right now" he lets out a shaky breath after, nerves wrecking his whole body. He goes to look at you and sees you grinning "It's alright, I can wait" you said. But how long were you willing to do so? He regret his decision, really. How he told you he needed time when you had first confessed to him. He wasn't ready for a relationship and you understood that. In fact, he still isn't ready. But he can't deny that his feelings since then had long developed into something bigger. He loves you and yet he can't find it in himself to tell you. Only distancing himself from you further, or emphasizing that both of you were just friends. Drawing a line from the both of you and the possibility of being something more. You told him you were willing to wait. And he knew that you couldn't wait forever. But he still selfishly wanted your love. Even if he isn't sure if he can give it back to you just yet. I'm wearing your clothes It doesn't matter Xiao groans. Why must he start feeling existential dread now of all times? His insomnia is already a hassle to deal with. He just wants to sleep and not have to deal with these troublesome feelings. Deciding to at least get a change of clothes preparing to go to bed despite knowing the chances of him actually getting a bit of shut eye are little to none. He opens his closet and sees a hoodie of yours hanging next to his usual sleep wear. Even if you were the reason his mood worsened, he still finds comfort in wearing it. You gave it to him, after all. So he puts it on and decides to curl up in bed. Scrolling back to old conversations with you and smiling at the funny or memorable ones. Usually back reading to the dates before Childe wedged his way into your life. 'Ew I said that?' he thought to himself. Grimacing and staring at a past conversation with you. He had only first started talking to you back then, so he was pretty straight forward, not bothering to consider your

feelings. But since then things have changed, and it's all thanks to you. It's not like you know; That I'm in love And you're okay It's way too boring; In this place I stay Turning off his phone and rubbing his eyes, he looks at the time. 'The sun is gonna rise in 3 hours so there's no use in trying to sleep' he thought to himself. He decides to back to his balcony, watching how all the vehicles leave a light trail with how fast they're all going. Hearing the soft beat of party music coming from the floor below him. 'A party, perhaps,' he thought to himself. Despite the busy nature of the city night life, It was calming. His eyes scan the complex's bottom floor and spots you laughing along with Childe and walking to where he assumes is the ginger's apartment. His eyes harden and he frowns. 'A pack wouldn't hurt' he thought, thinking of going to the nearest store to buy a pack of cigarettes. 'Fuck it.' he grabs an extra coat, some spare cash and leaves. After his trip to the store, he removes the extra layer of clothing and sets the wallet down on his side table. Deciding to go back to the balcony, he checks the time. "3:00", the clock that's built into his phone displays. Almost as if mocking him. 'I was only gone for 30 minutes. This was easier than I thought' he muttered to himself. And so he opens the pack and gets his lighter. And he smokes. He finishes 2 or 3 cigars by the time the sun started to rise. Too high to feel guilt for going back to smoking. He decides to retreat to his bed and lay down. As soon as he did he immediately succumbed to sleep. He wakes up the next afternoon feeling like shit. Who wouldn't after the long night he just had? He tiredly gets up, Microwaves leftovers and goes to check his phone. 'Just as I expected' seeing no new notification from you he puts it off to the side and continues to go on with the rest of his day. Night falls again and he decides to smoke. It goes on like this for the next week. I've been waiting for way too long Trying not to break my own heart; Break my own heart He doesn't bother to hide the fact that he's been smoking. It's not like you care anyway. And when he goes to meet up with you for the first time in a few weeks, you only scrunch your nose in disgust and tell him to put some perfume on. 'Tsk, I was right, of course you wouldn't give a shit' He mentally scolded himself for even thinking that you'd play the hero and "save him" again. After that day, he didn't care anymore. Even when his whole room smelled of burn cigars he didn't bother. Weeks after weeks pass, you've finally moved in with Childe. Nothing much has been going on with him after your last meet up. Well, other than the recent doctors appointment diagnosing him with pneumonia. But he doesn't care anymore. So he opens a new pack of cigarettes and like the smoke that leaves his lips, he disappears in thin air.

moving in with childe so true <33