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thoughtless-muse · 7 months ago

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chapter summary: daryl dixon was everything you despised in a man: rude, unkempt, derisive, scornful and unarticulated. yet, daryl dixon was also everything you craved in a man: mysterious, rugged, self-sufficient, masculine, aloof, and much older than yourself. it was the worst sort of enigma to place yourself in, especially during the throes of a damn apocalypse – and yet here you were, fighting tooth and nail to try and get closer to the man who hadn’t even bothered to tell you his name himself.

word count: 3.6k

c/w: language, suggestive themes/thoughts, a bit dialogue heavy, younger!fem!reader, first meetings, older/younger, undisclosed age-gap, subtle bickering, instant attraction, brief allusions to death/loss, super minor angst (maybe?), pre-season one at the quarry camp

prologue: start of doomsday

being raised by a brother ten years your senior gave you ample time and experience to grow accustomed to being dubbed with various nicknames.

goob, goober, snot, shrimp, brat, princess – you’d heard all of those and many, many more. you had long since learned to let them bounce off of you, to simply roll with the flow and ignore them.

but when he’d given you a nickname, why, you simply couldn’t let it roll off your back; couldn’t stop yourself from replaying the exact moment he’d first called you it, couldn’t refrain from stewing over the way it had rolled – all gravelly, husky and derisive – off his tongue.

“well, ain’t’chu jus’ a doll, girly?”

doll.

he had called you a fucking doll.

and girly. as if you were some sort of child.

it was such a puerile thing to get hooked up on, something so trivial and immature – especially when compared to the more pressing concerns that you should be worrying about; such as the dead slobbering for your flesh and the dwindling food supplies within the camp.

maybe it was because when you had approached him you were just a hairs-width from a mental breakdown, the world nothing more than a mere crumble around you, and his rudeness acted as the straw that broke the camel’s back.

or maybe it was because you were simply trying to be nice, for fuck’s sake, and the moment he’d laid sight on you he decided he would harbor a personal vendetta against you, for no real reason other than he could – or wanted to.

you didn’t even know his name. and it had become painfully obvious that he’d taken great lengths to make sure no one in the camp did; when you’d approached shane about him moments after that fateful incident, shane had spared no more than a glance in the direction the man had stalked off in and shrugged.

“no idea who he is, really. he kinda just showed up.” was all shane had said, as if what had just transpired was trifling at best – and, deep down inside, you knew it was; a man copping an attitude with you was the least of shane’s worries, and it was petulant for you to expect him to place it above everything else that was already piled onto his platter, that it was stupid to expect him to do something about it as if he were a parent getting onto a child.

but you just couldn’t help it.

you hadn’t been able to help it for days.

those words rang through your head every time you saw him, sauntering around the camp with a scowl, lugging around that clunky crossbow like it was some sort of deterrent, like no one would be brave enough to approach him while he had it within his reach – it just flat-out irritated you.

you were only trying to be nice.

“I don’ need no damn help. I can find a tent jus’ fine!”

“prick.” you muttered under your breath, only realizing that you’d audibly expressed your distaste at the memory when a cool, damp hand gripped your bicep.

“you okay, (y/n)?” andrea asked softly, stroking her thumb over your skin soothingly. you shot the older woman a small smile, shirking off the irritation that had built under your skin from the mere thought of that man.

“yeah, yeah. I’m good, andrea. thanks.” you returned your focus to the bin of dirty laundry you had abandoned in favor of recounting sore memories and began to scrub near-viciously. this happened a lot, too, when you thought about him. the thoughts would pop up unprompted, and then everything else would fade away into mere white noise – you were sure it was incredibly frustrating for those who shared your assigned tasks each day.

andrea hummed softly and uncurled her fingers from your bicep to return her hand to her own basin once more. silence fell over the group of women washing clothes at the lakeside, nothing but the cries of forest birds, rippling water and churning splashes against the walls of multiple basins acting as a melody to the activity.

that was, until amy spoke up, her voice airy and strained by amusement that she tried to desperately to conceal. “so, uh, who’s a prick?”

you whipped your head over to glare at amy as muted giggles arose around you, and she vehemently avoided your eyes lest the smile teasing at her lips grew into a full on grin. heat flared over your cheeks and you blew out a puff of hot air, equal parts embarrassed and irritated that you were caught angrily musing over that man red-handed. again.

“no one.” you stated simply, voice weak even to your own ears; and with the way amy’s shoulders began to tremble with contained laughter, you knew she had picked up the lack of conviction within your tone as well.

she just knew you too well.

you had met the harrison sisters the morning after the bombing of atlanta. they had been among the group of people that shane had led to the quarry. amy was sociable, nice, and outgoing, fluttering around the camp and offering bottled water and protein bars to everyone around her. close in age, you’d clicked with her almost instantly, drawn in by her bubbly personality and likeness to yourself; the two of you had been nearly inseparable since, and you even considered her to be a best friend despite the fact that you’d met her only a little over a week ago – falling in with andrea seemed all but inevitable, and you couldn’t say you hated that.

andrea was more reserved than amy was, but no less kind. you weren’t sure if it was a facet of her personality or simply because she had seen the bond forming between amy and yourself, but andrea had, at some point, taken you beneath her wing and treated you as if you were an extension of her own family – it was comforting, but in some ways, it made your heart ache.

because you’d had that once before; had it in the form of broad shoulders, dark hair, blue eyes, and a voice of reason that could talk down even the most insane of serial killers.

you’d had it in the form of rick, ten years your senior and your best friend, tied to you by more than just shared blood.

“I’m serious,” you pressed, smiling through the sudden onslaught of ache within your chest. “I wasn’t talking about anyone.”

“okay.” amy responded simply, dragging out the ‘y’ in way that conveyed exactly how much she believed you in that instant. you chuckled lowly and shook your head, willing the pain in your chest to ebb away quickly, before it swelled to something too big to contain; a knot was forming in your throat, one that had become far too familiar within the past couple weeks, and swallowing it down was growing harder and harder.

amy’s attempt at prodding fell to silence again, one that the others seemed content in, completely ignorant to the turmoil roiling within you. the silence acted as a catalyst rather than a balm, an overwhelming force that prompted the small cut in your chest into a growing chasm, and in a desperate attempt to strike conversation and sow it back up, you said, “I was talking about that guy with the crossbow.”

laughter erupted around you – the first painful stitch. amy nudged you with her elbow with a light guffaw – the second stitch, a little less painful than the first.

“yeah, I kinda figured as much.” andrea acknowledged with a laugh. “you’ve been in knots over him ever since he first showed up.” the third stitch, nearly painless.

“I have not!” you rebuked, even though a small part of you knew it was true. the man had simply waltzed into camp one day, a string of squirrels thrown over one shoulder and his crossbow slung over the other, a scowl on his face and body covered in filth and grime. sweat glistened across his brow and over the skin of his exposed biceps, and when he spoke, it was with a southern drawl that had drawn you in nearly instantly.

he was attractive as hell, at least he was to you – you became instantly overwhelmed by the desire to talk to him, to know him, to get closer in some way; but perhaps you should have observed him a bit more before practically cornering him and offering your help. maybe then you would have been able to foresee his reaction, and you wouldn’t be in this torn-up state in the first place.

“he is a bit of a prick, though.” amy conceded. “I think the only reason shane allows him to stay is because he can hunt.”

that chasm had been successfully sewn up by now, but the flesh around it was still achy and sore, sensitive to any prod and poke. you’d have to tread carefully to avoid reopening it, at least for now.

“I’m sure he’s got other skills.” you weren’t sure why you were defending the man after just insulting him and stewing over him, but for some reason, it irked you for him to be likened to as a one-trick pony. maybe it was simply the cursed attraction you had to him.

“and I’m more than certain you’d love to figure out just what those other skills are.” jacqui, who had been stationed furthest from you, piped up for the first time. your mouth popped open, your eyes widened, and heat flared to your face while the others erupted into laughter. amy’s laugh was the most notable, loud and boisterous, and despite the slight mortification you felt at jacqui’s suggestive (but true) statement, you found yourself laughing along.

you wondered just how obvious you must have been about your attraction to the man for even jacqui to have noticed; you didn’t talk much with her, but when you’re sequestered into a camp fending for your lives against the walking dead, you supposed it was only natural to pick up on things about the people around you.

had the man noticed it, too?

after all, you had, without a doubt, noticed things about him; things that no one would notice unless they had their eyes on him a little too much.

you noticed the small things that made him attractive; the subtle age lines around his eyes and lips, the creases along his forehead, the bags beneath his bottom lids, the semi-permanent frown fixed upon his face.

you noticed the things about him that stirred your gut, that pooled heat between your legs and brought about carnal arousal within you; the broad width of his shoulders, the way those shirts with the cut-off sleeves framed and accentuated his biceps and torso, those small glimpses that his pants sometimes gave you of his package, the way he sauntered around, glaring at everyone, cold and unapproachable – like a dark, gloomy castle just waiting to be turned into someone’s conquest.

most of all, you noticed the clear difference in age between the two of you – fuck… it had to be at least ten years, right? if you were lucky, it may even be larger than that.

your gut twisted with the familiar sensation of arousal and your sex throbbed between your legs, prompting you to close your thighs together in an attempt to stop it. or maybe get some friction, you weren’t sure.

this was becoming a big, big problem.

“(y/n)! aunt (y/n)!”

a shrill, childish voice called out to you from the gravel road yards from the lake, effectively dousing the low-burning embers in your belly. you whipped your head back and cupped a hand over your eyes to shield them from the sun. you smiled widely at the approaching form of carl, your one and only nephew, and discarded the wet shirt in your hand in favor of turning your entire body to face the boy.

“hey, carl! what’s up?” you questioned the exuberant child when he halted just feet away from you, panting heavily and dowsed in sweat. you reckoned he must have run all the way here from the camp. what an energetic youth.

“there’s something going down in camp. shane’s fighting with this weird guy! he has a gun!”

your heart tripped over itself and you quickly rose to your feet, shooting a hand out to grip carl by the shoulder and draw him closer. a threat of this magnitude hadn’t shown face in the camp yet, and despite the fact that it wasn’t within your jurisdiction to handle matters such as these, you couldn’t push down the instinct to do so.

“amy, could you finish up my part, please?” you asked kindly, sending the young blonde a pleading look from over your shoulder. she nodded and reached over to pull your basin closer to her, throwing a cheery “you owe me!” at your back and prompting a chuckle from your throat. uneasy murmurs had broken about amongst the women at the lake, though amy seemed unbothered by the same circumstances, focused completely on her task where as the others had slowed to a distracted crawl.

“yeah, I do, thanks. okay carl, take me to camp.” you ordered the boy, who nodded and shrugged your hand from his shoulder before dashing forward, kicking up dust from beneath his heels.

you swallowed down the command for carl to slow down that swelled in your throat and instead picked up your pace; if it was true that shane was currently grappling with someone, you couldn’t waste any time on chastising carl or slowing the pace. you had to get to camp to de-escalate the situation if it called for it.

by the time carl had broken through the foliage around the camp, your ears picked up the unmistakable rumble of shane’s voice; it held that same stern yet soft tone that he used when talking to criminal suspects – you’d been there when he’d done it before.

“… just hand me the gun and tell me your name, and we can get this all sorted.”

“I ain’t handin’ya my gun, pretty boy.” this voice was different; rugged and hoarse and dry, as if the owner of it had just chain-smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. “alls I’m lookin’ fer is my brother. I don’ have any other business with ya.”

shane sighed heavily just as you broke through the green shrubbery surrounding the east side of the camp. his hands were glued to his hips, lips pursed and eyes narrowed in annoyance at the man a few feet in front of him. when carl had first mentioned a gun, you worried that the man may have been pointing it at the ex-officer, or others; but it was instead holstered at the man’s hip, untouched and non-threatening.

“look, man, I get that. I don’t think you’re gonna hurt anybody; but we’ve got women and children here, and you’re a stranger with a gun. I can’t take any chances. I’m sure you understand.” shane coaxed further, removing a hand from his hip and extending an open palm to the man. the man glared down at shane’s hand but made no further movement; he didn’t reach for his gun, nor did he shift his feet at all, hell, you couldn’t even tell if the man was breathing at this point. but it was obvious this man wasn’t a threat – but if shane continued to pester him this way, he very well could become one; and with carl right next to you, that was a chance you couldn’t take.

shane huffed loudly and you saw his fingers twitch, as if he were barely holding back from striking at the man. you swallowed down your trepidation and pushed carl back, clearing your throat subtly before marching right up next to shane to confront the man.

“what’s your brother’s name? maybe we can help you find him; if he’s here.”

two pairs of eyes simultaneously snapped to you – one pair dark and narrowed in a harsh glare and the other quickly lighting up with barely-concealed interest. the stranger, a man with a buzz cut and wiry face, smiled widely at you, the tip of a pink tongue slipping just barely from between his lips as his eyes trailed your body. you pushed away the shiver that threatened to crawl up your spine and held the man’s gaze confidently until he was done with his blatant show of lewd conduct.

when his eyes met yours once more, there was a coy, feline smirk upon his lips, and his croaky voice had dropped a few octaves when he responded, “daryl. his name is daryl.”

for a moment, you sat silent, gnawing on your inner cheek and wracking your brain for just who ‘daryl’ could be. you didn’t know the names of every person in camp, but that list of unknowns was short – only three people. your heart constricted. could it be?

“so, your brother’s name is daryl. what’s yours?” shane piped up, voice edged with aggravation, as he rocked back on his heels and slipped his thumbs through his belt loops. the stranger’s eyes never left your body as he opened his mouth to respond, but the voice that echoed back didn’t belong to him.

“merle? what’d’ya think yer doin’ here?”

you didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know who the shambling footsteps behind you belonged to. your stomach twisted in on itself when a warm hand pushed you aside by the thick of your bicep, not too roughly but enough to have you stumbling slightly, the contact brief but enough to leave tingles in its wake. you glanced at the man between yourself and shane, taking note of the grimace on his face as he stared down the stranger.

the stranger, merle, took no heed to the glares that were fixed upon him. he smiled widely and threw his arms out as if expecting a hug.

“baby brother! isn’t it obvious? I’m here lookin’ fer ya.”

“you know him?” shane inquired, jerking his head in merle’s direction, eyes locked on the man between the two of you.

the man – daryl, as you now knew – shuffled on his feet and cast his eyes to the side, giving shane a brief once over. after that, daryl returned his eyes to merle and nodded.

“yeah. tha’s my brother.”

shane ran a shaky hand through his hair and chuckled hotly, muttering something underneath his breath. trepidation fluttered in your gut. you’d known shane long enough to know exactly what those mannerisms of his meant, and it didn’t spell anything good. you had a bad feeling shane was about to say something either highly stupid or highly impulsive; more than likely something that was both of those things at the same time.

“y’know, I don’t really have a problem with you, daryl. I never have. but this” – shane gestured to merle, who was still standing with his arms extended and that wide smile on his face – “is a bit dangerous. when you came here, you didn’t tell us jack about you; we didn’t know who you were, where you came from, or who you knew. and I didn’t bother to ask.”

daryl hadn’t moved a single inch since shane began speaking, eyes still fixed on merle, but the discomfort was plain as day on his face, and you felt irritation begin to bubble hot beneath your skin. granted, daryl was a haughty, antisocial prick, but why was shane acting like he did something wrong?

“I mean, this is just–”

“what’s your point, shane?” you cut the man off, a bit rudely, turning a sharp-eyed glare to him past daryl’s chest. shane’s eyes widened fractionally as if he hadn’t expected you to interject yourself, yet again, into a matter that he was handling on his own.

“my point is that daryl put us all in danger.” shane pressed, lowly, with a hand wave towards merle and dark eyes glaring daggers into yours. “we don’t know him, and we don’t know his brother. for all we know, merle could have stormed into camp, gun blazing-”

“but he didn’t.” you rebuked impatiently. you crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head subtly to the side. “and that’s a risk that comes with everyone in the camp. we don’t know anyone here, other than each other. and even so, you haven’t seen me in three years. I may as well be a stranger, too.”

“that’s different. you’re like a little sister to me.” shane rebutted, prompting an eye roll and hip jut from you. you wouldn’t consider shane a brother even if he’d spent every moment of your youth with you. you swallowed down that statement in favor of keeping yourself on track with the real issue at hand.

“my point still stands. nothing bad happened, so why don’t you just cool your jets and back off a bit?”

shane’s lips thinned into a line, dark eyes darting between you, daryl and merle a couple times before he heaved a great sigh.

“okay, fine, you’re right. nothing happened. but I’d still like to have a conversation with both of you, if that’s alright.” shane conceded, directing his final statement at the two brothers still locked in a stare down. daryl only gave the tiniest of nods to display that he’d even acknowledged shane’s statement, and, satisfied with the knowledge that tensions had been quelled, you turned on your heel to head back to the lake and check on the progress of the laundry.

unbeknownst to you, the event that had just transpired would turn out to be the catalyst to a soon-to-come tension between shane and yourself, as well as the act that had garnered you a modicum of respect and interest from the rude, attractive man that you were sure would never even notice you; and that little problem that you thought was becoming much too big was only going to grow larger, and very quickly.

chapter one

a/n: tbh I struggled a bit with this one. it is just a prologue, a means of setting up the deeper story, but I still wanted it to come out as good as possible, and I feel I didn’t quite articulate that. but before this finalized version, I went through at least three drafts before finding this one to be somewhat adequate. if you guys enjoyed this one nonetheless, please show it some love! if you’re looking forward to more updates, consider following or being added to the taglist!

TAGLIST: @daryldixmedown

#daryl x reader #twd daryl #twd x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #twd

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darknight3904 · 8 months ago

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Waiting For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʟʟ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴊᴊᴋ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ 2 ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ. ᴄᴜʀꜱɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ/ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ. ɴᴀᴏʙɪᴛᴏ ᴢᴇɴɪɴ. ꜰᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴀᴍɪɴɢ. ᴏᴜᴛᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴢᴇɴɪɴ ᴄʟᴀɴ ɪᴅᴇᴀʟꜱ

ɪᴛꜱ ꜱʜɪʙᴜʏᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ;)

ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴢᴇɴɪɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8.4ᴋ (ɪ'ᴍ ʟᴏᴏꜱɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀʀʙʟᴇꜱ)

ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀᴅ ʜᴇʜᴇ.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

2018

June

"You have to be kidding me." You sigh as you let your boys into the house.

"I'd never. I'm always serious when it comes to you. Megumi, call Shoko. She can patch you up." Gojo smiles waving the boy off

"Are you okay? I can call her. Satoru's overpowered self doesn't know what real pain feels like." You glare at your boyfriend

"I'm fine. Just watch over Itadori." Megumi says slowly walking off in the direction of his room he hasn't been inside for months since moving into the dorms at Jujutsu High

"So this... pink-haired, normal kid ate Sukuna's finger?" You ask in disbelief as you watch Megumi walk off.

"Yup. I think he's even got potential as a vessel." Gojo says motioning to the unconscious child he's holding like a sack of potatoes.

"Satoru, a finger is one thing. Twenty is a whole different story." You warn

"Did I mention he can swap with Sukuna at will?" Gojo asks

"What?" You stop in your tracks

"Cool, right? I asked him to give me ten seconds with the King of Curses and ten seconds later, Itadori here was back in control of his body." Gojo explains

"And Sukuna is okay with this?" You ask

"Oh, I doubt it. There's something special about this kid for sure though. Plus he seems like he'd be a great friend to Megumi. Seriously, that kid's so quiet sometimes I swear he's a statue or something." Gojo points out

"I'll ignore what you just said about Megumi for now. But, you realize what the higher-ups will say about your master plan to get Megumi a new best friend." You remind Gojo.

"Yeah, yeah...according to regulations he should be executed. Didn't know you were such a fan of theirs." Gojo teases

"I'm not and I know you're not either. Which is what makes your decisions so dangerous. Running around doing whatever you please will get someone hurt." You remind him

"Damn, you're a buzzkill. Too much time with Nanamin will do that to you though. We'll have to have a date night soon so I can remind you how cool I am." Gojo smiles

"Right, super cool, that's definitely why we're together." You roll your eyes, "Has it ever occurred to you that I genuinely like spending time with Nanami?"

"Well, that's just a bonus. The real reason is obviously my good looks." Gojo grins, pulling at his blindfold to wink at you.

"Wuzz happinin?" A gurgled voice sounds as Itadori struggles out of Gojo's grip and lands on the soft living room rug you had picked out with Tsumiki years ago.

"Oppsie...can't have you waking up yet." Gojo laughs before flicking Itadori's head and watching him fall asleep again

"Well, I'm off to talk to the higher-ups about him. Make sure Megumi actually calls Shoko. He tried going toe to toe with Sukuna before I got there." Gojo smiles

"I can't believe you let Megumi of all people get beat up by Sukuna." You groan walking towards the steps.

"Getting beat up builds character." Gojo reasons as he scoops Itadori back up

"Says the man who has Infinity and can teleport."

"Having him around won't be that bad." You assure the dark-haired boy beside you.

"You're kidding, right? We are talking about the same person right? Because last I checked you just said Itadori would be coming to school here." Megumi asks

"Of course we are. Besides you need friends your own age." You push

"I do have friends," Megumi said sitting down on his bed beside you

"I don't count." You smile "Also, why are you acting so cool all of a sudden? Satoru told me that you didn't want Itadori to die." You smile

"Yeah, I didn't want him to die. I didn't say I wanted him to join the school I went to." He clarifies

"Well, too bad. Satoru got what he wanted and now Itadori is officially a vessel. Of course, his threatening of the higher-ups probably influenced their decision. After all, no one's ever going to be able to beat him so arguing immediately becomes pointless." You say

"Aww talking about me with such fondness in your voice? My heart is warmed." Gojo suddenly cuts in, slowly opening Megumi's dorm door

"What do you want?" Megumi asked

"I'm here to drop off your new best friend." Gojo grins, pushing the door open fully to reveal Itadori, this time conscious.

"Hey, Fushiguro." He smiles with a save

"You had to put his room right next to mine?" Megumi asked

"Of course." You laugh standing up and crossing the room to Gojo and the newest student of Jujutsu High.

"Oh, hello, Zenin-san." Itadori greets

"Hello, Itadori. I hope Satoru has told you everything you need to know about this school." You smile

"Yeah, he was great at explaining everything." Itadori nodded

He definitely missed a bunch of stuff.

"That's great. We'll leave you two to talk. Megumi you should help Itadori unpack his stuff, you'll get to know each other better." You suggest, linking your arm around Gojo's.

"Wow a girl's close to me! I think I'm blushing!" Gojo declares stupidly beside you as he lets you pull him out Megumi's room and down the hallway.

"Is there something wrong with you? Seriously, the more I spend time with you the more I think you were dropped on your head as a baby or something." You groan in annoyance

Itadori watches his new teacher and the good-looking woman disappear down the hall, bickering like an old couple the further away they get. He swears he even hears one of them mention toenails.

"Hey, Fushiguro, they're kinda strange together don't you think?" Itadori asks

"Trust me, you haven't even seen the half of it." Megumi sighs

July

The soft beeping of Satoru's alarm is what greets you most mornings. Normally you'd lie in bed while he showered and then drag yourself downstairs and eat breakfast with him. Instead today, you're greeted with strong arms wrapped around your waist and a barrage of kisses down your neck.

"Good morning," Satoru says, his voice is deep with sleep and his white hair is a mess atop his head

"Mmm...morning." You groan, trying to wiggle away from him so you can stretch.

"Don't leave." Satoru groans

"I won't. I just need to stretch my leg feels funny." You promise

"Fine." He relents, letting go and opening his pretty eyes

"Woah, jumpscare." He says "What the hell happened to you?"

"Shut up. It's all your fault anyway!" You groan, grabbing your pillow to try and suffocate him

Satoru laughs under the pillow and easily pushes you away.

"Sorry, sorry. Guess I got carried away with the hickies last night. It won't happen again." He laughs

"You're a terrible liar." You sigh, reaching across him and snatching up his phone from the nightstand when it dings

"Who is it? Is it our little blessing telling us to stop PDAing in the hallways when you visit the school?" He asks

"You really need to stop calling him a little blessing, even if his name literally means it." You laugh "It's actually Itadori. Apparently, He, Nobara, and Megumi are going out shopping and to a movie later. They wanna know if you wanna tag along." You say

ding!

Bring Zenin-san if she's free too!

"And my presence has also been requested." You smile and tap out a reply

We'll be there at 1!

"They just want me to pay for everything." Gojo scowled

"What's the matter, rich boy? Are your pockets hurting supporting all these teens? You're the one who brings 'em home like they're lost kittens." You tease

"So mean to me! And after I gave you three orgasms last night!" Satoru laughs

"Oh please, I know we're not dating because of my stellar people skills." You remind him, poking at his face as you lie back down next to him, hoping for some cuddling before you have to get up and shower.

"You're right...It's probably your awesome tits that have kept me around for so long."

"Satoru Gojo!"

"I'm sorry but they're really great! It's like one of the first things I noticed about you!"

"Domain Expansion!."

"Wait, I was just joking!! It's also your awesome personality! What're you doing with that pillow? Stay back, demon!!"

"Where the hell are they?" Nobara groans

"Gojo is always late. I don't know why you bothered inviting him." Megumi says, his face still buried in his phone

"Yeah, but I thought since we invited Zenin-san he'd be more punctual." Itadori groans

"Trust me, when those two are together, they're anything but punctual," Megumi warns

"You sure seem to know a lot about them, Fushiguro. What aren't you telling us?" Nobara smirks, nudging her classmate

"Yeah, c'mon Fushiguro, spill the beans. That's the whole reason we invited both of them here. We wanna know what kind of a relationship they have!" Itadori says

"Why does it matter? They're both idiots. Gojo more so but still..." Megumi says

"I happen to think Zenin-san is a very respectable woman who would never stoop so low as to be romantically entwined with Gojo. I mean have you seen him?" Nobara asks

"Yeah, but have you ever seen Gojo without his blindfold? I did one time and he's totally hot! What if Zenin couldn't resist a pretty face?" Itadori countered

"I think she's stronger than that. Besides it'd be kind of crazy if two special-grade sorcerers were dating. They'd be the definition of a power couple!" Nobara says

"Yeah, but wouldn't that make them cooler than they already are?" Itadori asks

"Whatever, I just hope Gojo pays for everyone's snacks at the movie theater." Nobara says

"I'm not a walking ATM machine you know."

"Gojo!" Itadori smiles "Oh and Zenin-san is here! Perfect timing."

"You guys can just ignore him, he'll definitely pay for everyone's food." You smile

"Why are you two always so late?" Megumi asks

"You've known us for how many years Megumi? You should know that Satoru is chronically late." You say

"Wait...how many years have you known him, Zenin-san?" Nobara asks, her detective skills are on point today...

"Huh? Oh, I've known Megumi since he was six." You say as if its obvious

"What?" Nobara asks, clearly shocked

"Yeah, so has Satoru. He's actually the one who met Megumi before me. Brought him back like a little homeless kitten." You say, thinking of the day you met Megumi for the first time.

"You remember Toji Zenin, right?" Gojo asks, the phone crackling slightly as you listen to him

"I mean...vaguely. I think I might've seen him a few times around the clan's estate when I was little." You say

"Right, well he's got these kids..." Gojo trailed off

"So?" You ask, wondering if he could hear your eye roll through the phone

"I'll be there soon. Don't keep me waiting!" Gojo sings before hanging up

You groan, wondering what nonsense he was cooking up this time. Without Geto around Gojo had become a bit of a pain in everyone else's asses. Perhaps he was just lonely without his friend or maybe he really was just that annoying. All you knew was that when Geto was still here, Gojo bothered you a lot less than he did now.

"What the hell is this?" You ask twenty minutes later staring at Gojo and then at the two small kids who are next to him, a boy and a girl

"The kids I was just talking about, duh. Don't you listen? No wonder you have to study so much." Gojo taunts, pushing you out of the way and into your dorm, the kids following close behind. They reminded you of little ducklings following their mom.

If their mom was an 18-year-old white-haired freak of nature that is.

"Where the hell did they come from? You didn't steal them did you?" You ask

"You want a baby-making lesson? How bold, Zenin. I'd rather wait til' marriage though." Gojo laughs

"Can we play with that?" a small voice interjects, Gojo's crass words flying over young minds

You follow the boy's pointing hand to where your Wii console sits in front of your TV.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, knock yourself out." You say "The games are in a bin under my bed."

"They're Toji Zenin's kids. The boy is Megumi and the girl is Tsumiki." Gojo says as he watches them load Mario Kart up on the TV, bickering about who was going to get to play as Yoshi.

"You stole a dead man's children? What the hell is wrong with you?" You groan. These kids should be with the clan leader if they're orphans, not with Gojo.

"I didn't steal them. He basically gave them to me." Gojo defends

"He's dead, Gojo. He can't give anything anymore. Besides you can't just hand kids off like they're watermelons." You say

"Well he was originally going to sell them off to your clan so I'm doing them and him a favor," Gojo says

He's right, he is doing them a favor by keeping them away from the clan. Even now at 17, you can't escape how it ruins your life, just being a Zenin is terrible, especially for the girls.

"Alright well, what're they doing here in my dorm?" You ask

"I was hoping you could help me with them. I don't really know much about kids. Plus you guys are related so at least they'll know one of their relatives this way." Gojo explains

"You're joking, right? Gojo we can't just raise two random kids together." You say "Take them to some government program or something. They shouldn't grow up with sorcerers looking after them."

"Yeah about that...Megumi has the-" Gojo is cut off by a scream of frustration from the TV where the kids are playing

"You can't just let them out whenever you lose! That's not good sportsmanship! " Tsumiki shrieks tossing a pillow at what looks like two puppies that sit next to Megumi

"Holy shit..." You say, your eyes ready to pop out of your head

"Yup. Megumi here's one talented kid. He's got the Ten Shadows Technique. Something your clan is itching to get its hands on." Gojo smiles

You can hear the smugness in his voice as you begrudgingly make up your mind.

"Fine. I'll help. But only for a few years." You say casting a glance at Gojo who just continues to smile

"Why don't you ever tell us anything, Fushiguro?!" Itadori groans "You grew up with two super cool people raising you and didn't say anything?"

"I didn't think you guys would care," Megumi says

"Alright, so you guys are just what? Co-workers who raised Megumi together then?" Nobara asks

"What? No. Well, I guess it technically started that way but now..." You trail off looking at Satoru who tosses an arm around your shoulders

"We're a couple! She couldn't resist my charms!" Gojo says

"I told you, Kugisaki!" Itadori shouts in victory

"Shut up, you idiot!" Nobara groans

You laugh at the first years as they bicker while Megumi watches them in silence.

"Mmm. You're so pretty when you smile like that." Gojo says, his lips tickling your ear as he whispers to you.

"Stop it..." You say, turning away from him

Gojo laughs before pulling you so your back is pressed to his chest. He leans down and gently places a kiss on your ear, then behind it, and then another on the nape of your neck.

"Could you two keep it PG for once in your lives?" Megumi asks, his face is red with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I know you said no more PDA. Can you blame me? She's just so gorgeous. I have to remind her regularly." Gojo smiles

"I think it's kind of cute," Itadori says

"Yeah, Fushiguro stop hating on them....hey what's that on your neck, Zenin-san?" Nobara asks

Shit...the foundation that was covering the marks from last night must've smeared...

"Gross!" Megumi declares getting ready to walk away

"Hey, it's natural! How do you think you came into this world?!" Gojo defends

"Gojo, we didn't create Megumi." You remind him, watching as Nobara and Itadori chase after Megumi.

"You're telling me. No kid of mine would have an attitude like that!" Gojo scoffs

"Yeah, you're right, they'd probably be worse."

August

"You're sure keeping him here isn't going to get anyone else killed?" You ask watching as Itadori messes with Yaga's cursed corpse bear.

"Nah, I had Shoko keep his resurrection off the record. Sukuna sure is unpredictable though." Gojo says

"What about Megumi?" You ask, "He seemed really broken up about Itadori's 'death'. So did Nobara."

"They'll be fine. They didn't know him that long anyway." Gojo waves you off

"Satoru, you of all people should know that it doesn't matter how long you spend with a person. The memories existing are more than enough even if much time hasn't passed." You say, referring to Geto.

"They'll be okay, this isn't permanent. Just til' he gets a bit stronger." Gojo says

Right, getting stronger, is a constant goal for a sorcerer. You look over at Itadori who's just been punched by the bear.

"He has a lot of work cut out for himself. You sigh watching as the bear dances in victory.

"That reminds me...could you give Nanamin a call for me? I wanted to tell him about Yuji myself but he blocked me after I sent him too many memes last year." Gojo says

September

"Utahime-san, we can cut through here. I bet the kids are...who the hell is that?" You ask stopping your pace.

A skinny blonde boy is about 30 feet away, a shiny sword in one hand. His long hair is pulled back and strange pink triangles adorn his under eyes.

"He's human," Utahime warns

"Women! And they're pretty too!" He smiles, the sword in his hand glitters in the light

"Get out of the way." You say, not interested in talking, "I'm busy."

"Wahhh, so mean! That's okay though...."

A flash of blonde hair meets your eyes as he swings at your head.

"Damn, you're slow." You taunt as you move easily out of the way, Utahime close on your tail.

You have to be mindful of her. She's not one for actual fights, she's best with support. Plus, you don't want to find out if there are any more special-grade curses like that tree thing lurking behind any of these buildings. Fighting something like that didn't interest you, especially if it meant you'd have to look after another while doing so.

Maybe you could just annoy this guy into leaving you alone so you could go find the students.

"I don't think you're worth my time. Look at you you're not even clothed properly." You taunt

"You're so fast!" I thought I cut at least one of you!" He smiles

You roll your eyes, whoever this guy is he probably won't just give up. He must not be aware that he's clearly outclassed by you.

"I don't think I should even bother activating my technique to defeat you. You're like a flea on a lion's back, completely invisible." You grin before quickly closing the distance between you and him, delivering a solid right hook to his face.

Ponytail goes flying and lands on the ground, hard.

"Who said you were allowed to hit that hard?" He groaned, holding his injured face.

"I did. When I decided you weren't worth my technique. Now come back over here, I want to hit you again." You say motioning to him

"What kind of person says that?!"

Before you can get another hit in, the veil has been lifted. You squint up at the sky to see Gojo there, clearly surveying what's happening.

"It hasn't even been thirty minutes yet!" Ponytail whines "I guess I'll see you later..."

"Huh?" You turn to the guy only to see him sprinting off. "Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going-"

"Just leave him, He's not worth it, you said it yourself. Besides we should clear the area." Utahime says looking up at Gojo. "I have a feeling that that idiot is about to do something to get rid of that special grade that was in the forest."

October 5, 2018

"Do I really have to be here?" Nanami asked with a tired sigh

"Of course you do. It'll be fun you'll see." You smile at the blonde

"Last time we all went out didn't Gojo throw up on you, Nanami?" Shoko asked

"Yes. That is one of the reasons I don't want to be here." He confirms, his eyes remain fixed on you

"Oh, would you relax...besides Satoru isn't even here right now." You point out.

You wish he'd stop doing that. Nanami was always watching, it kind of felt like if you dud anything embarrassing he'd catch you and tease you for it. Not that he had ever done that...yet.

"Where is he? I thought we all agreed on meeting here at six." Mei Mei says

"Oh, he was given an extra mission today. He shouldn't be too much longer." You say

"If that were me I would've asked for extra pay. Especially if I wasn't given an advanced notice." She says

"I doubt he needs any more money at his disposal." You laugh

"You never know, what if I'm actually broke?" Gojo chimes in as he makes his way towards the table

"Well, then who's been paying all the bills for the past ten years at our place?" You tease as he sits down next to you.

"Megumi. He's got his Shikigami robbing banks for him." Gojo grins

"Yeah, okay." You laugh, shoving at his shoulder.

"Hey wanna play a drinking game? We could all name the things we love about Satoru Gojo!" He suggests like he always does when alcohol is on the table

"No!" Everyone groans in unison.

"Thanks, Nanami." You huff as you slam the passenger side door, effectively trapping Gojo in the car

"Are you sure you'll be able to get him in the house by yourself?" Nanami asks, eyeing the drunk sorcerer who has his entire face pressed up against the window

"I'll be okay...I think. Megumi is at the house with Itadori, they're having a sleepover... Not sure why they couldn't just do that at the dorms. Anyway, I'll just have them help out if I need to." You say

"Alright. I'll see you later then. Goodnight." Nanami says

He's as polite as ever as he walks down the sidewalk to his own car. Somehow you swear Nanami came into the world with good manners and matching clothes on. Seriously, how do all of his outfits always look good?

You turn your back and miss the way Nanami's eyes follow you, wishing you had taken him up on his suggestion for help. Yes, even if it meant dealing with Gojo, he'd do it for you.

"Who knew he was this heavy?" Itadori laughed as he supported Gojo's legs

"It's all those sweets he eats. He's probably secretly 900lbs or something." You groan, "Megumi are you even supporting your side?"

"Of course I am." He says, "Just walk faster, my arm is cramping"

It's an entire ordeal to get Gojo into the house. Megumi and Yuji help you toss him onto the couch before bidding you goodnight. You have a feeling they're just going to lock themselves in Megumi's room and watch horror movies for hours. But hey, what else would you do on a Friday night at 15?

"Nghhh."

Damn, you were hoping he was out for the night.

"Satoru?" You ask, crouching down to be eye level with him as he lays on his side on the couch

"Nanamin?" He asks

"Nope. Guess again." You smile

"Shoko?" He asks

"Wrong." You laugh

"I give up, tell me." He groans, his eyes remained closed as he lay there.

"It's your girlfriend." You say

"Suguru?"

Now you don't know if you should feel insulted or feel bad for him.

"Whatever. Let's get you out of your clothes and put something more comfortable on." You say, pulling his zip up off and reaching for the t-shirt he had underneath.

"Hey!" He suddenly gasps, shooting up so he's sitting upright

"What's wrong?" You ask, concerned

"I'm taken. Besides you can't just strip me without my consent. I'll call the police." He says, holding his hands across his chest like he was a woman, "No means no."

"Satoru, I'm the one you're dating. Now let's go put our pyjamas on." You say, maybe he could follow you so he could dress himself upstairs

"You want me to follow you after you just tried violating me! What kind of sick pervert are you?!" He asks, his hands remaining over his chest

"The sickest there is." You joke, "By the way you don't have boobs to cover up, stop sitting like that."

"I'm in a vulnerable situation!" He defends

You didn't have the energy to do this and drunk Satoru was driving you nuts,

"Right vulnerable..."You sigh before walking over to the bottom of the steps "Megumi! I need help with him!"

"Can I use a Shikigami this time?" The boy calls back

"Sure!" You say

A half second passes before Megumi and Itadori clamor down the steps to reappear in the living room to take in the "violated" 28-year-old manchild who remained set on remaining modest with his hands on his chest.

"Um...Zenin-san what's he doing?" Itadori asks

"He thinks he's got tits to hide or something." You sigh, too tired and a bit drunk to deal with all this.

"Rabbit escape," Megumi says, and before you know it the living room is filled with little white rabbits.

"Woah, Fushiguro these guys are super cute!" Itadori says, picking one of them up and petting it.

"Right? I was so excited when he showed them to me for the first time." You smile

"Carry him," Megumi says to the rabbits, ignoring the two of you.

The rabbits move in sync and surround Gojo before pushing him off the couch and onto their many backs so they can carry him up the steps.

"It's kind of like he's crowd surfing," Itadori observes

"Ha!" You laugh as you watch Satoru slowly make his way up the steps by rabbit back.

"Should they put him on the bed?" Megumi asked

You think about it for a moment. Drunk Satoru was always cuddly but he often vomited and you didn't want to clean that up.

"Just...leave him on the floor at the foot of our bed." You suggest

"Heh, like a puppy dog." Itadori laughs

October 31, 2018,

7:14 pm Jujutsu High

"What do you mean they're asking for Satoru specifically?" You ask looking at Ijichi, bewildered that normal people would know who your boyfriend is.

"Apparently they're calling for him. But we think it has to do with the veil that's been lowered that's holding them there." He explains

"I'm famous." Gojo declares, standing up with a grin.

"Famously stupid." You roll your eyes and Nanami lets out a hum of amusement

"She's right about that." He agrees

"You worried or something? I'll be fine." Gojo smiles, resting his elbow on your shoulder

"I'm always worried about you." You mumble

"What was that?" He asks

"Nothing." You say

"Mmmhm...welp, I'll be off to Shibuya then. I'll see you two later." Gojo smiles, leaning down for a kiss.

"I need a kiss, for encouragement." He says

You lean forward and gently place a chaste one on his lips, aware that poor Ijichi and Nanami are a few feet away.

"A real one!" Gojo groans

"All our kisses are real you fool!" You defend pushing his face away from yours

"Fine! I'll just get a kiss from whatever curse is making that barrier. I bet it'll be better than yours anyway!" Gojo taunts before walking off

You let out a sigh of relief as he disappears down the hall. Satoru was exhausting sometimes.

"How do you willingly put up with that?" Nanami genuinely asks

"I wish I knew." You reply

8:14 pm, Shibuya, Restaurant Avenue.

"You're getting fat. My son doesn't want a fat bride." A voice calls

Damn...of all places why here? You wanted to go home, shower, and watch bad reality TV with Satoru.

"Hey! What'd you just say?! Zenin-san is a special-grade sorcerer! You can't just say-"

"It's alright, Nobara. This old fool is probably so senile and drunk he doesn't know what he's saying." You say, turning to see Nabito Zenin, clan leader, and your future father-in-law standing before you.

"Naoya won't have kids with a fat woman. Lay off the noodles." Naobito scolded

"I need to buy new pants again. You have to stop feeding me all your leftovers, I'm getting fat!" You groan in front of the mirror

"You're not fat! Besides, even if you've gained a little, it just means there's more to love!" Satoru beams, wrapping his arms around you from behind, "You're as beautiful as ever, sweetheart. Besides I like curves, they're attractive! "

"Oh, fuck off. I don't plan on reproducing with Naoya anyway." You say

"Well, that'll be news to him," Naobito says shaking his head"Maki, I can't believe I'm supposed to be assessing your promotion. I plan to make sure you don't get it, by the way."

If this were a cartoon, you're sure Nobara's ears would be blowing smoke out of them by now. She's positively red with anger and honestly, it's a bit comical. You're used to Naobito's insults, and so is Maki, neither of you is going to let him get under your skin tonight.

"And how'd that work out last time you tried doing that?" Maki asks, looking at you

Naobito's face droops into a scowl. He's not happy to be reminded of his failure to prevent your promotions over the years.

"That was different. The higher-ups like that she's got a technique. You're just a brat who's good with a few cursed tools and a fancy pair of glasses." He explains

"And yet she's a higher rank than your own son is. Naoya is a Special Grade One right? Oh wait, so are you! That must be embarrassing. Last time I checked special grade is higher than Special Grade One, right?" Maki laughs

Nobara lets out a snicker but stops it from becoming too loud by slapping her hand over her mouth.

"You insolent little bi-"

Alright, that's enough. Naobito's hand that flies, ready to smack Maki, is fast but you're faster. You easily catch the old man's wrinkled wrist.

"You're getting slow. Perhaps it's all the booze you like you guzzle." You say

"Whatever. You're lucky that you're actually useful, otherwise I would've killed you years ago." He scowls, "Ungrateful bitch,"

"Mmhm, sure." You say, "Raise a hand to either of these girls tonight and you'll be sent back to the Zenin Estate in pieces. I've gotten faster and don't mind demonstrating why I'm a Special Grade, so watch it, old man."

"You've become overconfident. I think you're spending too much time with that white-haired fool." Naobito smiles

"Perhaps. Do you really want to find out though? I wonder if Naoya or any of his brothers will be concerned when the dear clan leader turns up dead." You reply

9:05pm,

"The second curtain is down!" Nobara declares

"Good. We'll move in then. Inumaki is handling evacuations so focus on any curses or curse users." You say "Our main goal is to assist Satoru in whatever way possible and get as many normal people safely out of his way."

"Got it." Maki says

"Yes ma'am." Nobara smiles

"I'm the elder here! Shouldn't I give the orders?!" Naobito yells

"Fine. What do you want to do then, oh dear clan leader?" You mock

...

"Just do whatever she said!" Naobito relents, ignoring you.

Heh. What a loser.

9:26 pm, the basement of Shibuya Station

What was this? A fake? No....he was here!

Suguru Geto was standing in front of him, healthy as ever.

"Who are you?"

"Don't you remember, Satoru? I'm Suguru Geto. Did you forget? How sad!" The imposter mocks him, and Suguru.

"Your body, your cursed energy, everything my six eyes see tells me you're Suguru Geto..."

They're wrong. Every bit of information his body is screaming at him to acknowledge is wrong. The instincts he had relied on for so many years were wrong, This wasn't Suguru. No, Suguru was gone, whatever was in front of him was no friend, and the way he mockingly said Gojo's name was perfect proof.

You can't imitate love.

"But my heart and my soul know otherwise! Who the hell are you?!"

"How'd you know?"

The stitches on the imposter's face are removed as the imposter reveals himself.

"My technique allows me to hop bodies by switching brains. I coveted this man's curse manipulation of course." The monster in front of him mocks

"Goodnight, Satoru Gojo. We'll meet again, in the new world." It bids him goodbye

"How long are you going to let it keep using you, Suguru?" He calls out to his best friend for the first time in nearly a year.

"HA!" The monster grins as Suguru fights him, amused by the struggle from Suguru's instincts.

I'm always worried about you.

Looks like you were right. You always were, one way or another.

Heh, next time Satoru Gojo might listen to you. After all, look how he's ended up.

"Gate, close."

10:20 pm, Inokashira line

Satoru Gojo has been sealed.

At least that's what you heard through assistant directors who have been feeding information the best they can.

How the hell did he get himself captured? He was untouchable, so what did he see that rattled him that badly?

"Why don't you cut loose. I'm sure you could level the playing field against these curses easily, Miss Special Grade." Naobito taunted

"Shut up!" You yell, cutting through another low-level curse

Letting loose, what a funny idea. Creating too many duplicates was bad, especially in a high-stress situation like this. What was once a support mission had just become a rescue mission.

"You know she can't." Maki defends you

"Whatever. All I hear is how special you are yet I've never seen your full technique. Kind of a waste don't you think?" He asks

He's baiting you. It won't work.

"Once we rescue Satoru, I'll show you my full technique. Perhaps one of my duplicates will kill you for me." You say

"I doubt it." He grins

"Zenin-san!" A oh so familiar voice calls out to you

"Nanami!" You greet, Thank god you're here to save me from this old man."

"Are you alright?" He asked

Always so overly concerned.

It was sweet though, you'd have to have lunch with him soon, you wanted to catch up with him, it had been too long. Perhaps you could go to a diner, Nanami had always enjoyed a good sandwich.

"I'm fine." You brush him off

"I overheard his taunts. Don't let your technique out fully unless there's no choice." Nanami reminds

"Duh, I'm not crazy." You say you say gently punching his arm.

Nanami shakes his head but falls into pace with all of you.

"You ought to turn back. Grade One is the minimum for the next battles, Maki." He warns

He's right. You had noticed that the deeper you went into the station, the stronger the curses were. You hadn't been sure what you were going to say to the girl but you were glad Nanami spoke up for you

"I'll be fine." She said

"He's right, Maki. I don't want you getting hurt." You say

"How am I going to advance if I don't challenge myself," Maki said

"Dying isn't challenging yourself." You say

"You should listen to your elders, girl." Naobito laughs

"Like I'd listen to a drunkard. I'm staying." Maki declares

When the hell was he drinking?! You swore he didn't have any booze on him.

"Were you seriously drinking?" Nanami judges

"I'm drinking for myself!" Naobito declares shamelessly.

What an asshole.

You follow Nanami down the steps, happy as a clam that there's an adult you actually like here. Sure Maki was great company and you loved her dearly but her stubbornness drove you nuts sometimes.

"Stop." Nanami commands, putting an arm out in front of you.

Then you sense it, something much stronger than the last curses is here.

"Maki, go back up those steps now." You order, making eye contact with a red and white curse.

"Hell, no, I told you I'm-"

"Quit your arguing." Naobito commands suddenly

He's stepped away from your little group and has gotten a hand on the curse

"You guys are too slow."

"Naobito wait!" You call, sensing something is wrong. The curse that put out such a strong aura just seconds ago wasn't putting it out anymore. It was letting Naobito get close to it.

Your words fall on deaf ears as he sends a punch to the curse. It flies back and spits out thousands of human bones.

How disgusting.

It's a little surprising what happens next. You watch as the little red curse crawls away from Naobito, calling out for it's comrades' names.

"What the hell is it doing? Forget it...let's kill it now." You say as you begin to walk towards it.

"How dare you kill Hanami?" It asks before beginning to shake

Oh boy...this couldn't be good.

A bright light flashes and the small red curse that once seemed wildly weak had transformed into a winged creature of sorts.

"I am Dagon." It declares

"Do you know how many frames there are in a second of animation?" Naobito asks

Great...he's going to blab about his technique now.

"If you're going to run your mouth, then you can fight it alone." You declare, not interested in assisting him

"Fine by me," Noabito says

Your focus recenters on Maki. This curse's transfigured form could be dangerous. She'd be the first to die if it really wanted to go all out so you'll have to keep a close eye on her.

You'd never admit it but Naobito's technique was impressive. Being able to break down an enemy's moves was certainly valuable. You watch carefully as Naobito punches and kicks away at Dagon who seems unable to get a decent hit on the old Zenin leader. You made no move to stop Maki as she swung at the curse, after all you knew Dagon would focus on the ones who could deal heavier damage.

"Don't you plan on helping?" Nanami called

"Yeah, yeah. I was kind of hoping Naobito would get beat up a little more though." You sigh, unsheathing your sword.

Eight of them. Eight phantoms is the number that you can control easily. Any more and they break away from your main mindset. By creating too many they gain their own willpower and goals, something like that can be deadly.

For example, if 25 Phantoms are created, only eight at a time will listen to your main body's orders. The others will access and act on what's going on around them at their own whims. If they become too free and learn to use their techniques, they can infinitely multiply and there'd be nothing you could do to stop them.

"Guess I'll start with three tonight. Let's see what you got, Dagon."

You'll start with 3 duplicates for now.

"Surround it. Hold it down." Your commands are instantly carried out as they each draw their swords to match you and begin moving towards Dagon.

"No!" Dagon calls as he takes a hard blow from Noabito

Suddenly the scenery changes from the station to a sunny beach. Damn it, this must be its domain.

Suddenly, two of your duplicates are cut down, they melt away and the last one remains to your right, awaiting orders. A nasty cut on its leg bleeds but it isn't anything fatal so it remains intact.

"Zenin-san!" Nanami's voice calls for you

A sharp pain fills your body as warm blood begins to trickle down your torso. Shit, did he just cut your intestines?

The harsher your wounds, the harder it would be to create a strong duplicate.

A barrage of different creatures are flying towards you now, almost like they're in slow motion.

Nanami said not to go all out...very well, you'll just have to push yourself to the limit of your control. There's no reason not to create 8 duplicates, even if they're hard to control.

"Get me to him." You order four of them

"The rest of you protect Maki." You say

She'll be the first to fall if you all stay in the domain for too long. Naobito's technique was protecting him and you were sure Nanami had enough strength to hold out until you were able to deal the finishing blow. Your duplicates were weaker than normal, and you sent the weaker ones to watch over Maki, you'd have to finish this fast and then get to Shoko, the bleeding from your stomach hadn't stopped yet.

"You're the weakest." Dagon declared, ignoring your charge and rushing Maki

Shit. This damn stomach injury was slowing you down. Without it, you're sure you would've been able to kill him by now.

"Maki!" A voice calls from the ocean

Megumi! Wasn't he with Itadori?

You grin as you see that Megumi has brought Maki her special-grade cursed tool. Good, with her safe that means you can make your attempt again.

With four duplicates left, Dagon is moving toward Megumi who seems to be trying to break the domain open. Those creatures Dagon likes are the perfect path to him.

Your stomach burns as you slice down a creature in your way. Nanami has moved to protect Megumi.

Heh, Megumi's going to break a hole in the domain at this rate. Maki and Noabito are behind you, ready for a quick escape. It's true none of you stand a chance like this.

Shit if only you had dodged when Nanami called to you. Three of your duplicates are dead and one remains as you call her to your side, ready to slip through the hole.

A gurgle sounds and before anyone can make a move a flash of white meets your eyes and a dead man enters the domain.

Toji Zenin is alive and well as he enters with a sinister-sounding laugh.

You watch wide-eyed as Toji uses Maki's cursed tool to attack Dagon.

"Who is that?" Maki asks

You're too shocked to answer as you watch the ghost easily overpower Dagon.

Satoru didn't let him go right? No...this was something different.

"Noabito how's he here?" You ask

"I don't know. He's been dead for years." Noabito says

Great, always so helpful.

"He's our best bet right now," Nanami says

Damnit. What kind of special-grade sorcerer were you? Getting injured and relying on some ghost to finish off a curse for you. If only you had infinity like Satoru then you wouldn't have to worry about cuts.

"It's alright. You'll have another chance to prove yourself." Nanami says, "Focus on keeping pressure on your stomach."

You glance down to see your normally dark clothes even darker with your blood.

"I'll help you get to Shoko," Nanami says, wrapping a big arm under your shoulders for support

Shit when did he get so muscular? Damn male puberty, you wished you had gotten to grow that big!

"Speak for yourself, You look just as bad as me." You say, watching as Toji sets himself up for a finishing move.

"Thanks, I love getting nice compliments from you" Nanami smiles

Before you can blink or comprehend Nanami's mood change, you're released from the domain, Dagon's body is slowly disappearing and Toji stands victorious over it.

Noabito looks ready to call out to the ghost, hopefully, to see how the hell he's alive again. You let your weight slump against Nanami, glad he's there to hold you up, even if he's badly injured himself.

It's like it happens in slow motion before your eyes. Toji crosses the room and his fist whirls back to slam into an unsuspecting Megumi. Glass shatters as Nanami holds you from running after them.

"You'd lose. We have to heal you first." He says, "Megumi will be fine."

You hate that he's right.

"Fine then lets get to Shoko and-"

The scent of singed flesh hits your nose and cuts you off, before you know it Nanami is shoving you away from him.

"It's alright." He says when he sees the fear in your eyes

Your eyes find his as your last duplicate moves in front of you to protect you. The last thing you see is the fire that covers your last close friend from your teenage years.

The hot blaze from the fire dries the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes as your head hits the floor, your duplicate is there, you'll have to leave everything to her.

May 2005

"Did you hear about the new student that's joining us? They're from the Zenin clan." Haibara asks as they walk toward their classroom

"Yes, I was there when the announcement was made." Nanami reminds

"Yeah, I know, I'm just excited. I hope they can get along with the second years. It would suck if we all had to stop hanging out together." Haibara says

"I dunno. Seeing Gojo less actually sounds appealing." Nanami says

"Yeah but wouldn't you miss Geto-san?" Haibara asks

"Maybe. He's better than Gojo." Nanami admits as he takes his usual seat, casting a glance at the new desk that has been added to the room

Yaga enters soon after and behind him a small form follows, practically hiding itself behind their muscular teacher.

"Introduce yourself," Yaga says

Nanami watches as the figure stops its hiding and introduces herself. Pretty hair catches his eye as she sits down next to him.

"Hello."

It's in this moment that Nanami knows you are going to be at the center of his attention from now until forever.

July 2006

"Is it possible to die from lack of ice cream?" You groan from your spot on the floor

"It would certainly be a new way to die," Nanami says, as sweat trickles down the back of his neck.

"What the hell is taking Haibara so long? The corner store is only 10 minutes away!" You whine covering your face with a towel that had been wet with cool water.

Nanami is equally uncomfortable and overheated as you but for a slightly different reason. It was the hottest day of the year, of course, you were entitled to wear a tank top and shorts, he'd never want to limit what you dressed yourself in. After all it was your body, not his.

The big issue was that the amount of skin you were showing was hypnotizing to the 16-year-old boy. It's not like he was trying to only focus on the way your body looked, it's just that his eyes kept drifting over there!

"Sorry, it took so long! I dropped my wallet on the way there!" Haibara greeted as he pushed your dorm room's door open

"Next time send a text. I thought I was going to die." You say, immediately reaching for your ice cream

"Are you alright, Nanami you look a little red..."Haibara observes

"I'm fine." He lied, keeping his eyes away from you.

August 2007

Nanami isn't sure what to do. You called him here probably so you didn't have to be alone but what should he say? He felt frozen as he took in your appearance.

To keep it short, you were a mess. Used tissues were on your overflowing nightstand and you were wrapped up under your blankets. Were you even aware he had entered the room?

"Hey..." He said quietly

"Nanami." You greet, turning over to face him from your blanket mountain

"How are you?" He asked awkwardly as he sat down on the floor next to you so his face was even with yours as you lay in bed.

"Terrible." You say quietly

"Me too." He agrees

"You look better than me." You observe

"I got most of my tears out already." He explains, thinking back to the long shower he had taken

You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment and your hand appears from your blanket burrito. Without thinking Nanami takes it in his bigger one.

"It sounds stupid to say but he's in a better place now." Nanami assures

He hated when Geto said that to him earlier but now it was the only thing he could find in his muddled brain.

"It still hurts though." You say

"...I know."

September 2007

The sun was setting when he finally caught up to you. He was worried when you ran off after he read the report about Geto to you. A warm breeze fills his lungs as he watches the scene in front of him unfold.

You hand Gojo a lollipop and settle down next to him on the stairs. It's inappropriate but jealousy burns hot in his stomach as he watches Gojo rest his head on your shoulder.

"I'm sure you'll see him again. Even if it's not for a long time, you'll talk to each other again." You say

"Yeah, I hope so," Gojo responds

Nanami watches as your eyes remain fixed on the saddened white-haired sorcerer. He understands now, Kento Nanami understands that no matter how he chases after you, your eyes will always be fixed on something far up ahead. Satoru Gojo has won you from him and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

February 2015

Nanami isn't sure why he agrees to babysitting the kids you and Gojo took in. Perhaps its because they're fun to be around, not that he'd ever admit it.

"Can we watch a fun movie tonight?" Tsumiki asks

"Yes. If you finish your dinner." He responds as he drives, "And all your vegetables."

"Can we watch Hotel Transylvania?" Megumi asks

"No!" Tsumiki groans

Nanami tunes out the Fushiguro siblings as they launch into a debate about what movies are good and which ones aren't. Apparently, Hotel Transylvania has been dubbed dumb by Tsumiki.

His mind wanders to you and how you smiled and thanked him for helping out tonight. He said it was no problem and reminded you they were welcome any time at his house so that you and Gojo could get some alone time.

He doesn't know why he said that, especially since he easily figured out what kind of night you had planned judging by the racey dress you had on when you walked the kids out. Seriously he thought he'd be feeling some sort of jealousy but instead, he was just enamored with you.

Maybe he just wants to feel useful to you. Afterall, your recent promotion to Special Grade Sorcerer has left him feeling rather weak compared to you, like he wouldn't really be of use if you were ever in real danger. Because if you couldn't win a fight, how would he? Being a rank lower than you it would be impossible.

As he drives Nanami decides that if there were ever real danger, he'd hope that he would be able to keep you safe from harm, even if it were just for a second. Yes, he'd be satisfied with something as small as that.

11:14 pm- Dogenzaka, in front of Shibuya 109

He feels a sense of accomplishment as doom looks him in the face. The curse in front of him doesn't scare him, even as he understands that this will be it.

You had been perfectly unharmed when he woke up before he walked all the way down here. Your duplicate must've taken the fire from the curse that had touched him. She had done her job well and Nanami wished he could thank her. Of course, it never would've occurred if he hadn't pushed you away from him. For once he was glad he let you go. After all, there were so many times from before that he hadn't.

One day he'll meet you again. Perhaps then he'll tell you his true feelings until then though you'd have to wait. It was only fair, considering how long he had waited for you.

"Itadori, you've got it from here."

Next Part

Series Masterlist

Guys, I swear this is still a Gojo fic, not a Nanami one.

Taglist

@polarbvnny @r0ckst4rjk @dann-acalle @bakedpotato12 @my-xoxoxox @desideriumlove @starlight5cat

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forecast0ctopus · 8 months ago

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Any advice on drawing McCoy? I’m not used to drawing ancient wrinkley bastards (affectionate) and it’s surprisingly tough v-v

FOR SURE lmao i made. a diagram. just a warning that i am going to be irritating and long winded because u just hit a topic i really like sorry lmao

so first off i did some traces just to show whats there vs redraws to show my interpretation

ive said this on other asks but again jsyk, tracing isnt bad!! its a tool. theres some stuff with intellectual property and whatnot but using tracing to study shapes and forms is a really valuable practice.

also just taking some time to learn facial structures and anatomy is super useful, reading what bones and muscles are where and how they interact with one another. taking this info and staring in the mirror and moving your face around and thinking about it. just really furthers understanding of how the face works. trying to sound normal about this but i love anatomy and motion and physics and whatever

anyways im going to go through all the numbered points so there's no confusion. 1. forehead lines - self explanatory. more prominent when brows are raised 2. crows feet - at the outer corners of the eyes, more prominent when smiling or squinting 3. nasolabial folds - the folds that go from the corners of the nose to the corners of the mouth. more prominent when the mouth is wide, like smiling 4. brow furrow - self explanatory, most prominent when brows are furrowed. mccoy tends to have two right next to his eyebrows, kirk has one in the middle. everyones face works different lmao 5. chin crease - caused by how the chin and lower lip interact. 6. nasojugal groove - start from the inner corners of the eye and can extent over the cheeks. everyone has these and idk why people dont like them i think theyre really cool!!!! but Society. i guess. :/ 7. eye bags - caused by the skin sagging beneath the eyes. mccoy isnt even that old in tos i think hes meant to be mid 40s by the end of the 5 year mission, hes just got really prominent eye bags lmao 8. idk what the name is for these, but when the mouth is wide and pushes the skin to the sides, these folds sometimes form outside of the nasolabial folds 9. philtrum - the groove above the upper lip. i dont usually draw this but mccoy's struck me as prominent enough that i usually draw it on him 10. masseter - the muscle that moves the jaw up and down. its a pretty rugged muscle and while i wouldnt say mccoy's is especially prominent, it kind of extends that nasojugal groove from certain angles/positions 11. orbicularis oris - mouth muscle, usually easier to see when lips are pursed or frowns are pulled. mccoy's is pretty prominent from 3/4ths or side, his mouth tends to protrude in profile 12. this isnt a muscle but more of a line defining the planes of the face, but since i drew it i felt i should explain lmao

a few points:

im an animator i tend to exaggerate and emphasize certain things so i usually make him more square.

i like to combine eyebags and crows feet for brevity/flow, same with nasojugal grooves, eyebags, and masseter lines. my approach is always subject to change based on pose, expression, reference image, etc.

i take out details that i deem redundant or cluttering and keep what details i need to make things feel Right

all this info is applicable to any character of any age, its just in how you apply it and facial proportions that willl change how old a character is perceived to be

there's a lot more with drawing a Character rather than an Actor, just because the features are there doesnt necessarily mean things will feel correct? its very much in the mannerisms and poses and expressions

i only went over my approach to his likeness but not really body type or posing or anything idk if u want that i could always try to answer that later haha

_______________

anyways all that info kind of exists nebulously in my brain while i draw its not like im sitting there thinking Must Draw. Nasolabial Fold...... i jsut do what feels right with the visual info i have. also i love specificity in faces.... i dont like to be a hater but when every character is drawn the same it pisses me off a little lmao. so

also dont take my word as The Only Way to do anything i just draw how i like to draw and no one should feel like these are things that Must be done to be a good artist or anything do whatever the hell u wanna do

#anyways my apologies that was. a lot #it will happen again if asked of me.#anon #ask #everyone has this stuff going on with their face and its really cool but capitalism and the beauty industry and whatnot #have been rotting peoples brains since the moment they came to be #the more u look at and appreciate how ur skin an muscles and bones interact with one another the more fine u are with your own face #trust me #because its really cool. like mechanically and stuff #idk if its like theraputic or something but maybe it is or maybe i think about it all way too much #how i draw #ive got some other similar things under that tag i think pertaining to merlin but still similar info

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delopsia · 11 months ago

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Ok so I’m assuming Rhett is 30 ish because Lewis is 30 (almost 31 in like a month) but like Rhett with reader who is younger than him by a good number of years (reader being 23 at youngest probably) what’s the relationship like? Was he super reluctant at first because of the gap? How do we meet him? How does the family feel? What if he’s her first “real” boyfriend? How would he react to reader asking him to take their v card?

When I tell you that this has been stuck in my head since you sent me this, oh my GOD. I've been meaning to write this concept with Rhett and Bobby for over a year and keep forgetting to 🤤 I got a little carried away. Hope y'all don't mind 🤍

Canonically, Rhett is twenty-four, but I think we as a collective have chosen to ignore that 💃 here's my proof post on that, if you're curious 💕 TLDR: Rhett was born June 12th, 1996, and OR S1 takes place in November 2020

For the sake of this post, I'll just leave it and say he's noticeably older than the reader ✨ I don't want to set a specific age for him and accidentally exclude someone :(

I like to view an older version of Rhett as someone who's still into the rodeos; he's gotten up there in the bull riding ranks, and though he's a year or two away from aging out of it, he's still up there kicking ass when you first encounter him. It's your first time coming to this rodeo, and you're not sure what to think when you see him leaned up against the fence in that quiet, rugged glory so many cowboys seem to carry. Older than the rest of the riders, so jaded by buckle bunnies that he hardly notices the ones trying to get his attention.

The first time you walk past him, he lifts the corner of his lip and nods his head toward you as if to say hello. Some simple little thing that gets you smiling, hoping to high heaven that your friends don't notice the sudden weakness in your knees. Three Sundays in a row, you go to the rodeo with your friends, and three Sundays in a row, you walk past him on your way to the food trucks. Three Sundays in a row, he smiles and nods his head at you.

You think he's just being nice.

Rhett just thinks you're hot.

But he's too tired of entertaining relationships with folks who only want him for what lurks beneath his championship buckle and to tell all their friends they fucked a real cowboy. It was fun when he was younger, but after a while, like most things, it gets old.

So when he sees you at the bar after a rodeo one night, he doesn't think too much about it. Sneaks a few glances at you out the corner of his eye, sure, quietly wondering how pretty his name would sound coming out of your mouth, but that's it.

Until some hotshot decides that he's going to give you hell while your friends are in the bathroom. And Rhett's within the perfect earshot to get rightfully pissed off. He's not particularly one to get into someone else's business, but he's also not too fond of this whole "badger someone 'till they give what you want" technique the younger boys have been employing recently.

"'s this guy botherin' ya?" He asks, in that gravelly voice, his elbow propping against the bar, speaking to you but his eyes never once leaving the steer wrestler giving you trouble. He's got a history with this kid; this isn't their first confrontation.

Of course, you don't know that when the younger man goes nose-to-nose with Rhett. But oh, if it doesn't make you the slightest bit dizzy when Rhett's jaw hardens at your meek 'yes.'

He only means to scare the guy off and go back to watching his buddy eat shit at the pool table, but your friends are taking forever to come back, and he's found himself offering to sit with you until they do. You're asking his name, and he's ashamed to admit that his heart jumps at the sound of his name on your tongue.

You don't seem to care all that much about the age difference, and Rhett's got no reason to be concerned; your age doesn't end in 'teen,' and you can legally drink, but he's found himself a touch hesitant to flirt with you. Isn't all that fond of breaking his heart over another sweetheart who stumbled into Wabang.

But you just keep running into each other. You're in line with him at a food truck; he sees you at a rodeo bonfire and chats you up until your friends are begging to head home. He's given you his number, and he's catching himself looking for you at the end of his rides.

And then he's busting his left shoulder after a ride, and somehow, he's found himself outside of the ambulance, being backed up against a wall as you kiss him hard on the mouth. It's the first kiss he's had in years, and your hands on his big chest are the sweetest thing he's ever felt. It's everything, and it takes every ounce of his will to draw your hand off of his belt buckle.

"Y' don't wanna do that," his whispered warning drips off his tongue like honey, and oh do you want a taste, "'m 'fraid if I let ya have me, I might follow ya 'round for the rest of my life."

He really doesn't know what to do when you smile and ask, "But what if that's what I want?"

How he survived that, he doesn't know. But a kiss-filled conversation ends in him agreeing to take you on a real, proper date. He takes you to Odessa's diner for lunch, pulls your chair out for you, and never lets you touch a door, and he gets along with you so well. It helps a lot that he's been on a funky little life path that has given him many of the same experiences as you. There's an age gap, sure, but his stage of life isn't too different from your own. Especially because he was a bit of a late bloomer with this whole 'adult' thing. The perks of being emotionally stunted by Royal...

Rhett doesn't differ that much if he's your first boyfriend; he's sickeningly sweet, regardless. No amount of experience or inexperience will stop him from going all out on you; if there's one thing his momma did, it was raise him right. You might as well be royalty. That being said, he's happy to take the lead (or give it up) depending on your experience level.

The relationship isn't all that different from how it would be if he was your age. There are some generational references that take time to understand, and Rhett's age shows the most when you try teaching him to use Instagram, but that's a given. He's a little bit smug when you're with him in public, especially at rodeos. He knows he's struck gold, and he intends to show you off as much as you're comfortable with. Protective, too. Those bull riders know better than to linger and try their luck with you. More times than you can count, you've overheard the whispered warning, "That one's Rhett's."

Rolls his eyes when you (affectionately) call him old man...

To be fair, Rhett does try to wait until a few weeks into your relationship to start getting intimate; he wants to take things slow with you, but then you're cupping him through his jeans, and he's breathless as you massage him through the fabric. And when you sit in his lap, wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and grind your ass down into him? He's a goner.

If you're a virgin, then he's extra careful with you. Takes some more time to draw your clothes off, slow as he kisses down your belly until he can run his tongue up your sweet little pussy. But he's obscene about it, regardless. Groaning around your clit, letting you yank on his hair all you need. Frustrates you to no end because you're trying so hard to get him to fuck you, and all he wants to do is eat you out. Four times. Four times, you rile him up, and the most progress you make is getting his jeans off. He doesn't mean to upset you, he's just a whore for giving oral.

Until that one time at the bar when you hauled him into a bathroom stall, dropped to your knees, and wrapped your mouth around him before he could get under your skin.

That got him. You couldn't take all of him, gagging every time his plush tip hit the back of your throat, but his knees were shaking. Moans muffled by the palm of his hand. Trying his best to pull you off when he came and damn near hit the floor when you instead chose to swallow him down.

Again, if you're a virgin, then there isn't a huge difference in how he treats you when he takes your virginity. Not out of impatience or anything of the sort, but it's your first time together. He's going to treat you like a virgin regardless. Overusing the lube as he introduces you to a thick, calloused finger, watching your reaction for the slightest hint of pain. "'s this hurt? No? You sure?"

Annoyingly pushes the tip of his cock against you, then lets it slide through your folds, obsessed with the sight of it. But just as you're going to complain, he finally nudges inside, and it silences you completely.

If there is one thing about Rhett Abbott, it's that he's huge in more ways than one. Splitting you open in all the right ways, big hands stroking up and down your skin, whispering the filthiest things into your ears. "Think 'm almost too big for your lil pussy, angel." "Shhh, we'll make it fit. Jus' relax 'round me." "'s that feel good, sweetheart? Y' like bein' stretched 'round my cock like that?"

He ruins you either way. You never pegged yourself to be this insatiable, riding him in his truck, fucking him outside the bar, in bathroom stalls, cheap hotel rooms, bending over the hood of his truck while he had a flat tire. It's not your fault; Rhett's just that damn good, and he's somehow able to match you entirely. Rolls his eyes a little, sure, but he's just doing that to annoy you. "This old man fucks you that good, hm? Cute little pussy ain't satisfied 'till I pump it nice 'n full of my cum?"

Sometimes, he tells you he's too tired for sex and then turns around and pounces on you because he heard you whimper once and had a second burst of energy.

Which...is how your relationship gets found out. He's left a mark on your collar, and at some point, you bend down to pick up a fork you dropped, and it gets noticed. So you either got in a fight with a vacuum cleaner and lost, or you have a little someone.

The worst part is telling everyone how old he is. Rhett's got this funny charm where he looks younger than he actually is, and it nearly makes someone choke at the dinner table. And Rhett's not the best with people, but he's quick to make a good impression. He's like a fine wine; he's gotten better as he's aged.

You'll likely never meet Rhett's family, and if you do, it's a handful of times for no longer than two hours. After Rhett moved out, there's been tension every time he sees his folks. He was supposed to stay and spend his life helping the ranch, to honor his family loyalties, not run off and find love in someone else. Cecelia's sweet, doesn't say anything about the age gap, so long as you're both happy. Royal...you don't know what he said, but you had to grab Rhett by the belt to reign him in.

All that being said, Rhett's a sweetheart to you, regardless of your age gap. There are some differences that wouldn't be there if he was your age, but he's keen to work on those things together. Rhett doesn't fall in love often, but when he does, he falls hard, and he's going to give you the world. Even if you do call him old man every now and then.

Like I said...I got carried away

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #delgato's asks

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hollybell51 · 1 year ago

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here me out. Adam Warlock and sex pollen.

It's ok - one

Navigation

Part two

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: foreign flora has an unexpected effect on your human physiology.

Content: sex pollen and associated DUBCON, fuck-or-die, smut, maybe very slight perviness (but I don't think it's creepy or really triggering), Adam being down bad, SMUT. Gratuitous smut. Non-explicit masturbation, handjobs (kinda), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's a virgin, reader isn't, bit on angst, unresolved, there will be part 2. Maybe some out of character-ness, but it's hard cause he only had like 10 minutes screen time so what I've written is based on my own interpretation and what I've read since I watched the movie

Notes: I hear you anon! I actually haven't done sex pollen before, though I always found it kinda fun, so this was new to me. I actually wrote a part 2 which I'll post with this, and that's much of the same xx. Also sorry I haven't done anything in ages, I've been super under the weather and busy so I haven't really had time lmao. Anyways, have fun with this!

“Hey, did you get through those notes?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, seeming to bounce off the lush petals of the giant flowers towering overhead. The local flora was all supersized, bigger than anything Adam had ever seen, and filtered the harsh light of the planet’s nearest star in sickly sweet hues of pinks, greens, yellows and even blue.

“Breathable atmosphere, mostly docile wildlife. Predators are nocturnal.”

“Ok, just… How much longer are we gonna be out here?”

Adam turned, letting the machete you’d armed him with – “bush bashing. Gotta learn those life skills, huh?” – hang by his side. You were panting, face flushed and beaded with sweat as you planted your hands on your hips and frowned at him. Even like this, speckled with bright yellow and orange pollen and clearly uncomfortable, Adam couldn’t ignore the odd swooping sensation in his gut. It was like someone was constantly pulling a rug from under his feet.

He checked the time displayed on the tablet. “Two hours. Maybe less. Are you ok?”

You groaned, but nodded and walked the few paces to stand beside him. “Goddamn flower dumped its load all over me. You sure this shit is breathable?”

The atmosphere. Right, you were joking about the humidity. “If you don’t mind a bit of a steam,” he tried, smiling at the short bark of laughter the remark conjured.

You tapped his machete-holding hand, jerking your head towards the wall of fleshy greenery. “Nice. Let’s just get this over with.”

Adam simply nodded. The falling feeling had been replaced by something warm and sticky, the simple touch and your laugh flowing like syrup to sit low inside him. It had been like this for a while now, since he’d started really talking to you, spending time with you, noticing things about you. Like your hair, now dusted with fiery plant spores and stuck to your forehead, and how it caught the lights of Knowhere just right when you sat down beside him to eat. Or the little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you smiled – really smiled. The High Evolutionary had disliked wrinkles and other physical signs of ageing, viewed them as imperfect and a blight on existence. Adam could have stared at yours all day.

“Can I see that?”

Again, Adam stopped and turned. You were craning at the tablet, your hand absently running around the collar of your suit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just… It’s really hot. Do you feel that?”

Adam shrugged. Temperature wasn’t a huge concern to him, but you looked truly uncomfortable now. “Humidity can often make it feel hotter than it is.”

“I know, but…” You grimaced, pulling your collar down further and wriggling your shoulders. “I feel really hot. Worse than before.”

Adam frowned. He knew humans were often sensitive to their environment, much more so than was practical, but you seemed more affected than you should be. There were places on Earth hotter than the current reading, you’d told him that, so why were you–?

The comm on his wrist buzzed, Rocket’s voice crackling across the emergency frequency. “Warlock? You copy?”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, still watching you. You were taking a semi-restrained drink from your flask, no doubt aware that it had to last the whole trek and back.

“Is (Y/N) with you?”

“Yeah, why?” As he watched, you held the back of your hand up to your forehead, then your cheek, then your neck. The suit still seemed to be bothering you.

“Are you on the ground?”

“Yes.”

“You need to get out of there.”

Adam didn’t think he was imagining the urgency in the raccoon’s voice, distorted as it was over the distance. He was in an entirely different corner of the galaxy, after all. “Why? What’s wrong?”

A pause, then, “The flowers, they’re… uh, they’re kinda…”

“They are very powerful aphrodisiacs!” Ah, Kraglin, just as worried-sounding as Rocket. “They can be harmful to humans!”

Your other hand had joined the first on your face, but it didn’t seem to be doing a lot. You’d managed to get the zipper on your suit down, the neck pulled down to expose your shoulders and collar bones, the skin there just as flushed as your face.

“What?”

Rocket groaned, but Kraglin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Aphrodisiacs,” he repeated. “If she breathes the pollen her body temperature will rise until she develops a fever, and if she doesn’t have sex she could die.”

His entire (relatively short) life, Adam’s mother – and pretty much everyone else – had been more than generous in pointing out that he was lacking, that he was slower than he should be, that he was not up to the same speed as they were. It was because he’d left the cocoon early, he knew that, but he’d never really felt that much slower. Maybe a little, but he’d always understood where he’d gone wrong and why. This was totally different. For the first time, Adam felt like he was lagging behind.

“What?” he asked again. “What do you mean if she doesn’t have sex she’ll die?”

“Makes ya horny, genius. Means what exactly that. Fuck or die.” Rocket took over, clearing his throat. “I’m reading off the notes, bit further down. It’s small, so you might have missed it. It says it works normal for most species, but humans are more fragile so…”

Yes, that made sense. Adam couldn’t remember that in what he’d read, but he’d also been distracted by your legs slung across his and the little wrinkle that had appeared between your brows as you’d carefully packed your bag, sliding everything perfectly into place. He’d wanted to just reach across and run his thumb over the line, smooth it away forever.

Now, that same bag thudded as it hit the ground and you frantically fanned yourself, eyes closed. There was no telling if you’d heard the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to waste time finding out.

“Ok, I’ll, uh, get her back to the ship.”

“She ok?”

He paused for a moment, then settled on, “yeah, she’ll be fine.”

“You got this, golden boy.” The radio crackled and fell silent, and that was that. What a great help.

“(Y/N)?” he ventured, picking up your pack. “Did you get all that?”

You nodded, wriggling to get the zipper further undone. Your back was beaded with sweat, and in any other circumstance, maybe Adam would have let himself dwell more on the soft contours of your spine, the roll of your shoulder blades, the harsh line of your bra strap in contrast to your smooth skin.

“I’m really… It’s so hot, holy shit. Why’s it gotta be so hot?”

“I think that’s the fever bit. Come on, we should get back.”

You drew a sharp breath when his hand met your back, your whole body tensing.

Adam withdrew at light speed. “Sorry, I didn’t–”

“No,” you cut him off, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Ok.”

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you’d set out, but it felt like a long time to get back. You were slower, for one, stumbling and muttering apologies whenever you became disorientated – which was often – and wriggling like your clothes were full of insects. Your breath came heavy, your skin becoming more and more flushed as you drew closer to the ship, and you looked so uncomfortable it made something twist inside Adam.

“I heard it,” you panted, stepping clumsily over a root. “What Kraglin said.”

“Oh,” was all Adam could think of.

“You don’t— You shouldn’t— You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Hey, no, it’s ok. You’ll be ok.”

“I’m– fuck, Adam.”

“You’ll be ok, (Y/N). We can sort this out.”

“I don’t wanna force you to do anything–”

How cruel could the Universe be? Adam wondered as he patted your shoulder – then regretted it when you stumbled. You were the first person he’d really wanted anything with, the first person he’d thought about and imagined and, dare he say it, fantasised about, and now you were worried you were going to somehow hurt him or make him do something he didn’t want to. It was sweet, bitterly so, and ironic enough to feel like a punch in the stomach. If anyone should be worried, it should be him. After all, how were you ever going to look at him the same way after this? How was he going to look at himself the same way?

“I’m so…” You broke off as you emerged into the clearing where the ship was parked, a sob – relief or something else, Adam couldn’t tell – torn from you.

Your legs were shaking now, your skin so hot Adam could feel it through the material of your suit. He helped you quickly aboard, avoiding your eyes as you peeled the suit from your shoulders and pushed yourself against the cool wall. The pollen still lay over your hair and clothes, insultingly cheerful and innocent.

He sighed. “We should get rid of that.”

“Huh?”

“The suit. It’s got pollen all over it.”

“Oh, right.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, peeling the material from your body without a second thought. Well. Adam hadn’t expected that. Trying not to watch as you sunk down to the floor, he shoved the offending clothing into the disposal to be dealt with later.

“You should probably take a shower. There’s pollen in your hair and… on you.”

You nodded, legs pressed firmly together, arms spread over the cool surface at your back. “Yeah, sure, I… Can you… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry I—”

“It’s ok, (Y/N), don’t worry.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but seemed to help a little. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need…” You trailed off in a low whimper, your legs shaking now. You didn’t even seem to notice you were in nothing but your underwear. “I…”

Again, that twisting feeling. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with a relieved sigh, your head tipping back.

So Adam went with you, helping you into the tiny decontamination spray shower, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible – not for lack of trying on your part. You seemed to gravitate towards him, pressing your body into his hands wherever they lay, leaning hard against him. Your breath was still laboured, your face still pink, but it seemed less painful now that you had direction and were free of the suit. You’d stopped wriggling, anyway.

You sighed as you sank down to the floor, your fingers vice-like around Adam’s. His free hand found the taps easily, turning on a cool jet and directing it to the pollen in your hair. It flowed down your neck and shoulders, an orange river spiralling into the drain.

“I’m sorry,” you said for what must have been the millionth time, your own free hand pressed between your legs, tension radiating from every line of your body. “I’m so sorry, Adam.”

“Hey, no, don’t be. It’s going to be ok.” He crouched, ignoring the water as he reached across to lay a hand on your forehead. You practically whined at the contact, your fingers tangling even harder with his, skin hot despite the cold water.

“(Y/N)?” he said softly.

“Hm?

“Rocket, uh… Rocket said the pollen’s an aphrodisiac.”

“Yeah, I – fuck – I know. Trust me.”

“He said it works, um, strongly on humans.” Adam paused, heart pounding. Why did it have to be you, of all people? And why him? “If you don’t,” he continued, “you know… The fever might get high enough to kill you.”

“Oh fuck, come on!” Water sprayed where your foot slapped the shower floor, your voice echoing.

Adam had never felt worse about anything. “I’m sorry, I should have checked the notes first, I didn’t even consider–”

You didn’t seem to care. “So now I’m gonna overheat and die?”

“Unless you have sex. With someone.”

Your head thudded on the wall, a sob flopping wetly from your throat. “Fuck this. Does it have to be with someone? Will it work if I just… do it myself?”

“Uh, actually, I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused, unsure, then, “Do you want to try?”

“Yeah, yeah I—” You took a shuddering breath, blinking through the water dripping over your face. “Yeah.”

Adam nodded, standing. “I’ll… I’ll be around. If you need anything.”

“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, so wretched it made his heart hurt. You released his hand, and he turned quickly to leave you alone, your relieved moan following him out the door. Adam didn’t like this, not at all. You weren’t quiet, though he supposed that wasn’t your fault, and he hated, really hated the heat your moans and gasped curses sparked in him. It was wrong, so wrong, and he should not be here. But he couldn’t leave you.

“Fuck, fuck oh my God–” you cried eventually, a wet thud echoing through the wall. “Oh my– fuck fucking fuck!”

Adam listened carefully, unsure whether or not he should…

“Adam?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t…” You broke off in a sob, genuine fear lacing your voice. “Fuck.”

“(Y/N)?” He stepped back into the shower, pausing only for a moment to take in the mess that was you. Your hand was still between your legs, thighs spread wide, panties crumpled in a wet bundle in the corner and your bra pulled halfway down your torso. In any other situation, it would have been the hottest thing Adam had ever seen.

“I can’t… It didn’t work, I’m still so hot, why am I so goddamn hot?”

Adam cursed as he crouched beside you, taking your free hand only a little gingerly. He cursed fate and circumstance, himself for not reading the notes properly, Rocket and Kraglin for not miraculously having a cure, and you for still looking so fucking beautiful while you were quite literally dying. He swore that if – when – he and you got out of this, he was going to burn that whole jungle.

“We’ll fix this,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You sighed at the contact, shifting closer.

He frowned. “Is that…?”

“Feels better when you touch me,” you murmured.

That was going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it. This whole ordeal was going to haunt him, and probably not in the way it should have. He already knew he’d be seeing your shoulders silky with the water, your back slicked with sweat and the smooth curve of your thigh for months, let alone everything else. Wrong wrong wrong wrong, he reminded himself.

“Do you…” He stopped. It was absurd. It was wrong. It was not something he’d ever live down.

Your eyes were open, overly bright and dark with want, searching his face like he held all the answers. You were still so flushed, hair plastered to your forehead and dark with the water, lips parted and so, so pink.

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes.” The syllable was torn from you, ragged and desperate, followed quickly by another sob. You shook your head. “I don’t want to pressure you, don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.”

He could have laughed. How were you still so focussed on that of all things? It brought that syrupy feeling back, only now it was darker, hotter, and tinged with guilt.

“It’s ok,” he said softly. “(Y/N), it’s ok. Don’t worry.” He carefully moved his hand to your face, pushing the wet hair off your forehead.

You leaned into it as you had before, your eyes closed. “Then yeah, I… Fuck, Adam, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I want you.”

It wasn’t you. Not really. He did his best to ignore the spread of the tingling warmth, his own want, as he helped you to your feet and did his best to dry you – again, as gently as he could. You just let him, casting your bra away when he paused at it, still struggling to stand and trying your best to get as close to him as you could.

Vaguely, Adam wondered how the hell this would actually work. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with much of anything before he met you and the other Guardians, let alone sex, and he had no idea if you had either. He somehow doubted you were in the same position as he was – you were gorgeous, after all, and so friendly it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up head over heels for you sooner.

He really wished this wasn’t happening. He wished you really did want him, that he’d worked up the guts to ask Quill about Gamora and how that had gone before he’d taken off, then told you about his feelings properly. If he’d gotten that far, he was sure you’d have shown him how it went with the same patience and care you’d shown him everything, and he’d have liked to have taken his time. He’d have liked to kiss you, touch your pretty hands and hold you close, feel you all over and let you take the lead, tell you about the things he thought about you and everything you did to him.

But it was happening, and you were probably not going to want to talk to him after it had run its course. At least you’d be alive.

You’d stumbled to a bed – one of the standard fold-out ones – beside him, and now he sat you down on its edge. You hadn’t released your hold, pulling him down with you, hands flying straight to the fastening of his own damn suit.

“Is this ok?” you breathed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your hands were flitting everywhere; his hair, his neck, along his jaw, his face, his own hands. You were very clearly trying very hard to make yourself slow down, wait, and Adam’s heart melted.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s all ok. You do what you need to.”

A sigh of relief, a soft “thank you,” and then you were clambering into his lap and peeling his clothes off like it was nothing, your lips hot and hard against his. Adam hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he’d seen enough movies – most of them with you – to know that this wasn’t how it usually went. There was little technique or rhythm, more your tongue licking into his mouth, teeth occasionally knocking against his, so forceful he wondered if it was hurting you.

You’d completely stripped him remarkably fast, and now your hands explored his shoulders and arms, trailing goosebumps down his chest and stomach. You fit perfectly over him, and he allowed himself to run his own hands up your back, down again, over your hips, finally settling in the curve of your waist. How often had he wondered what it would be like to hold you there?

You moaned, the heat at your centre slick and wet against his own rapidly hardening dick. And now you were moving, too, grinding against him like your life depended on it and why had nobody told Adam it could feel like this?

You’d broken the kiss, your lips swollen and even redder than they’d been before, your hands now in his hair, fingers tugging ever so gently. Adam had to stifle his own little sound of pleasure, bending his head to kiss at your neck and those collar bones he could look at forever. You gasped a “yes” when his tongue darted out to taste the skin, the faint tang of sweat mingling with the sweetness of the water that had dripped there from your still-damp hair.

Your fingers tightened in his own hair, the delicious pull sending more heat straight down. You directed his head in that direction, too, arching your back until his mouth found the soft mound of your breast and he licked, then on a whim, sucked.

“Oh, yes, Adam–” you panted, your movements becoming even more frantic.

“Hm?”

“Oh, that’s– that’s so good.”

Did you know what you were doing to him? Adam supposed you didn’t, sucking again at a different spot, licking it, placing a kiss there, moving on. Rinse and repeat.

Then your hands disappeared from his hair – that was a shame, but this wasn’t about him – and the next moment your fingers were wrapped around his cock and you were stroking it better than he ever had, your palm a million times softer than his, sliding easily with your own slick.

“Can I?” you were asking. “Please, Adam, can I?”

You could do whatever you wanted, Adam didn’t care. If he’d thought about it, he’d have realised that he actually liked the idea of you having your way with him, using him for your own pleasure, taking what you needed from him. But he didn’t think about it, he was too caught up in the smell and taste of your skin, the little sounds you were making, the wonderful movement of your hand.

“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, go ahead, (Y/N). Please, just– just go ahead.”

You were moving, rising on those wonderful thighs and your hand was moving too, something hot and slick rubbing over the head of his dick and then holy shit Adam’s mind went blank. If he’d thought you felt hot before, it was nothing compared to this. He groaned in unison with you as you sank down, taking him fully and gripping his shoulders, your breath fanning his face. You fit perfectly around him, squeezing spongy and smooth, and nothing could have prepared him for it.

You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising off him – for a second he wondered if that was it, if you were pulling away – before you sank back down. You did it again, then again, and again and again until the only sounds in the room were your breaths mingling with his, your unrestrained little moans and his own half-stifled ones, the slap of your skin on his.

Adam held you close, hands still anchored to your waist, transfixed by the silken heat of you and the brush of your chest against his, the bounce of your breasts and solidity of your body on top of his.

“Feels so fucking good,” you panted. “No idea, so fucking – shit – good–”

“(Y/N),” he choked, unable to form a single coherent thought.

“You’re so good, Adam oh my God.”

Something was building in his stomach, he could feel it. The warm syrupiness was gone, something hotter and harder and so tight coiling in its place, growing with each moan and sigh and whispered curse from you. It was so much, almost too much, and half of his brain wanted you to stop right there. But the other half, the half that created those late-night daydreams, real dreams, half-formed ideas and scenes in his mind… That half wanted you to go harder, slam your hips down faster and say it again, tell him he felt good, he was doing well.

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you murmured, as if you’d read his mind. “You’re so… ah, fuck, Adam, I’m so close–”

Close to what? he wondered vaguely, but the praise was spinning that coil faster, faster, tighter and faster until–

“Adam, oh, Adam—!”

It snapped, electric and white hot and rolling up his spine like a damn shockwave. He could hear you crying his name, your movements slowing and your body spasming around his. He’d cum before, of course he had, but never like this. That had been small and so quick he hadn’t even realised what was happening until he was spilling into his hand or the bedsheets, confined to his dick, never spreading through his whole body and never with that glorious buildup. This was something else entirely.

After what felt like an age, Adam’s mind returned to his body. You were shaking, collapsed against his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, your face pressed into his hair, his own nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You fit so perfectly against him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky even to his own ears.

You didn’t lift your head, but he felt you nod.

“Are you sure? You’re shaking.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine. I feel better, actually. How about you?”

Adam just nodded, unwilling to move. He could feel himself softening inside you, but didn’t want to lose the warmth and the feeling that he was yours, that he was fully with you. But… “Do you want me to stay?”

No response, then a deep sigh. “Yes,” you whispered.

Adam ignored the butterflies and the spark of hope that conjured, opting instead for practicality. He could feel the rapidly cooling sweat on his own back, the coldness of your damp hair, the mess of spend around the place where your body swallowed his.

“I’m going to clean you up,” he said softly, “then I’ll come back. Alright?”

“Ok.”

Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted you off himself and set you down further back on the bed. You whined at the loss of contact, curling in on yourself and shivering. But you weren’t so hot anymore, the flush had been replaced by what he could only describe as a glow and the overly bright look had vanished from your eyes. You really did look better.

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam rose and turned away, making for the cabinet where the medpacks and other supplies were kept. You wanted him to stay. You’d told him he felt good. You’d held him afterwards, let him hold you, and had made no move to make him leave. If anything, you’d looked disappointed when he’d broken the contact. But still, you weren’t yourself.

He paused, a horrible thought crossing his mind. Was he going to end up like Quill? Hopelessly chasing a woman who didn’t feel the same way about him? He hoped not, he’d seen how miserable the man was. But you weren’t hard the way Gamora was -- as much as Adam knew her, anyway, which wasn't much. You were soft and open, and you did care about him, he was sure of it. At least you had.

Shaking his head, Adam returned to the room with a damp cloth in hand.

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly, pausing at the door. No answer.

You were where he’d left you, he saw as he stepped around it, still curled up on your side. Your eyes were closed, the rise and fall of your ribs deep and even. Asleep. The surge of tenderness surprised him, strong enough that he was sure he’d been swamped by an actual wave. You really were beautiful, even damp and naked, lips swollen and hair mussed.

He was careful not to wake you as he brushed the hair off your face, wiped away the worst of the mess, and then pulled a blanket over you. He wondered briefly if he should stay with you, slide down beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, warm you with his body heat and be there to tell you it was all alright when you woke up.

You shifted, heaving a deep breath and adjusting your position minutely, and that decided it. Adam couldn’t disturb you, as much as he wanted to, and there was still your suit and discarded underwear, not to mention the original task. On an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning, scooping his own clothes off the floor and making for the shower.

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock smut #adam warlock x you #gotg3 #mcu #fanfiction #fanfic #shameless smut #smut #marvel #gotg vol 3

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mrdixon · 1 year ago

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A Rugged Muse | Series masterlist

pairing: eventual daryl dixon x f!reader

series summary: when you're left to fend for yourself in the new apocalyptic world as an artist, you lose all hope. your brother was no where to be found, you were still heartbroken, you were considering giving up. until you came across a ragged archer, who was as equally fragile as you.

general warnings (every chapter will have its warnings): swearing, typical twd, violence, gore (wont be extremely detailed im dumb), mental health mentions, abuse/torture, character deaths.

A/N: hi this is mostly like a test series because im not even sure where im going with this, i just have like so many ideas that are not consistent with each other so ill try my hardest to make this enjoyable. and again im super super super inconsistent so im sorry if i post like thirty chapters and then go AWOL. i really do hope youll enjoy this series!!!

DISCLAIMER: reader is more of an oc so if theres things that she does that do not apply to you im sorry shes so me. this story will take place from s1-??? and its going to follow the main story of twd (mainly... probably...) so heres your warning, SPOILERS !!!!!! im also not naming chapters i have no creative juices for that.

for the sake of having glenn as your older brother im having him be around 24-27 years old right now, you being like 23 ish. and daryl will be like 32….??? i dunno im trying to make this as canon as possible BUT UGH IT IS SO $&£”*^%*£ so yeah there will be a little bit of an age gap between reader and daryl but i hope that wont be too much of a problem for you guys…. probably not. and do not quote me if i get settings or the timeline wrong like twd is confusing enough for me……….. again im also like rewatching and making sure to make everything as close to the show as possible, but theres also the possibility of me altering the timeline (muehehehe).

☆ series masterlist

chapter 1 ♫

chapter 2 ♫

chapter 3 ♫

chapter 4 ♫

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl x reader #twd daryl #norman reedus #daryl x y/n #daryl fluff #daryl smut #angst #mrdixonposts #masterlists

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failureface · 9 months ago

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thoughts on "Welcome Home, Franklin"

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

Okay, this special was really great.

I love Franklin. He's a sweet boy who never had a unkind thing to say about Charlie Brown- he was the straight man to the wacky antics of the Peanuts gang. But I never got the feeling he was more than that in the strips. This special serves as the backstory and character that Franklin didn't originally get, but sorely needed.

And this special beautifully and gracefully rights some of the wrongs that past Peanuts media made.

I was surprised this film even went there in terms of discussing racism a little. Peanuts is an IP that you expect people to be overly-protective of. 'No, the scene in "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" isn't racist- and it's NOT weird that all the kids are white' is more of what I expected to hear from this. But refreshingly, this special addresses it. Like, YEAH, there IS a lack of diversity! It feels so much better for that stuff to be acknowledged rather than swept under the rug.

I love the fact that Franklin is unsure of himself and his ability to make friends. This makes him super relatable and sympathetic, and also makes a clear connection to why he gravitates towards Charlie Brown. The two of them bond over their shared feeling of being "the Underdog", and not knowing how to make friends or navigate social landscapes. Franklin also opens up Charlie Brown to new experiences and knowledge, telling him about discrimination and introducing him to music he hasn't heard before. Not only that, but Franklin encourages Charlie Brown to be less anxious and push himself further. And Charlie Brown is a much needed friend and sympathetic ear for Franklin. They have each other's back and their bond is undeniable.

That's what this special is truly trying to get at. That friends of different backgrounds and experiences from us can help us to learn and grow as people. I think that's a really wonderful message and one that we all need at any age, and one that we especially need now.

Overall, this special really blew it out of the water, and I gave it five stars.

Special shoutout if you were able to make it to the premiere stream in the Peanuts discord, that made it twice as fun to watch!

Some miscellaneous thoughts under the cut

Franklin's music taste is so elite

The music picks in this movie are honestly fantastic. The soundtrack really elevates the experience and every song is awesome

THE BEACH SCENE! It's so rewarding as a fan to see moments that are plucked straight from the strip. It feels like the people making them really know Peanuts

All the little tiny schrucy crumbs- I eat it up. I know screenshots and gifs will be made and posted and I will be reblogging them.

Lucy and Franklin's beef- I wasn't expecting it but it's so funny and adds some really great dynamics into the fold

Since this is about the friendship between Charlie Brown and Franklin specifically, minor inaccuracies Franklin actually being on Peppermint Patty's baseball team in the strip are forgiven. Some fans more scrupulous than I would probably have an issue with this, but I'm not one of those fans. This isn't 100% faithful to Peanuts Lore but I don't mind.

I LOVED the scene where Charlie Brown wants to pull the breaks and Franklin wants to keep going. It shows so much without saying anything, and it gives way for great conflict that makes sense and comes from real places within the characters

And I love how Franklin is allowed to be mad, and he and Charlie Brown fight. We're not afraid to rock the boat anymore, and it makes Franklin feel so much more human

Just the right amount of Snoopy scenes, this one reached the perfect balance of Snoopy and Story

Everything is just so overwhelmingly cute here I had to restrain myself from writing "cute" or any of its synonyms in my review

"We saved you a seat!" <3333

#Welcome Home Franklin #my posts #reviews #Peanuts #franklin armstrong #Charlie Brown #theres so much stuff im forgetting to mention but my ADD mind cant think of everything at once sorry guys

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plothooksinc · 1 year ago

Note

As promised, I have arrived with a prompt for NRFTW extra-content. I would loooooove to see the Hamato family come over to meet April's parents over dinner. 👀😎

this was less written and more 'the characters stuffed the author in the trunk and drove the plot themselves, but at least they gave the author popcorn'

WARNING: THIS IS A 30 PAGE STORY, IT IS THE UNDERDARK OF FAMILY DINNERS--

“Okay, so remember what I said about Raph.”

“He’s big. Don’t stare.”

“Great. I mean yeah, he’s huge, but he’s a big softie—”

“I get it. Stop being so worried.”

“Oh, and keep the gravy separate—”

“I got it!”

“—for Donnie, he has—”

“April.”

“...sensory issues?”

“So does your dad. Business as usual. You remember we’ve had this conversation three times already, right?”

“Sorry, mom. I’m just, uh…”

“You’re sitting down with friends you’ve known for years, not going to prom with a flock of mean girls. Stop pacing, for Pete’s sake. Look, get the potatoes out of the oven for me.”

“You got it.”

“How is… Leo? Is it Leo?”

“Yeah. He’s coming. AOPBA.”

“I have no clue what that means.”

“He has over-protective brothers.”

“Well, great, two birds with one stone. Go make up the couch so I don’t have to look at your face. Green is a better look on your turtle friends, baby, just sayin’.”

“Thanks so much.”

---------

There was really no good reason to be nervous. Donnie had already met her parents in less than stellar circumstances, and it had put Mom in a good mood for the rest of the evening. The ice had been broken; the guys had wanted to meet her family for ages, and she knew now it would be okay.

It didn’t stop the low level jitters as April padded the couch out generously with pillows and a comforter or two. It was like elation and terror had decided to go clubbing together somewhere in her rib cage. In the end, it came down to this being new. Something life-changing. The status quo forever being overturned. It was a good thing.

(It was damn terrifying, was what it was.)

The living room floor was generously covered in rugs and loose carpeting—both new and borrowed—because they weren’t made of money and the floor was still in the process of being repaired. Her dad had made fretful noises about inviting guests over in such conditions, and it was Carol that had reminded him, dryly, that “Honey, those kids live in a sewer. I don’t think they’re gonna judge us.”

“They live in an old subway station now,” April had said helpfully, and August had perked up with some interest and asked about logistical details, because her dad was a nerd like that and enjoyed his boats and trains, and his nerves about the floor were long forgotten. Nobody mentioned the fact that the guys already knew her apartment had been half destroyed in the little Krang’s attack. It was a fact that, by unspoken agreement, they had all decided to sweep under the rug.

Literally.

Hah.

Anyway, given Carol had slung a whole bunch of rapid-fire questions her way about the boys’ dietary requirements and August was fretting about being judged, April was reasonably sure her parents had come to terms with the fact her four best friends were giant walking turtles with comparative ease. It probably helped they’d been thrown into the deep end of things, even if it had led to super uncomfortable conversations and her parents staring at her as if they were expecting her to don a cape and go fight crime or some dumb stunt. It probably also helped that they knew Donnie and Mikey had come to bail her out, and that they were literally, y’know, responsible for saving the city.

Most of April’s nerves weren’t about the turtle aspect. It was whether her two families would like each other. Which was hilariously one of the most mundane things to worry about, considering literally everything else.

Story of her life, honestly.

She’d just finished squishing a pile of pillows into the corner of the couch when she heard her phone buzz, and fished it out.

Donnie: >> We’re here. Wardrobe check? Puppy eyes face.

Dumbonardo: >> Donnie has no class. 🥺

Donnie: >> Leo has no brain, but you already knew this.

She snorted. Then April glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Carol was busy with the oven and sidled toward the front door, slipping through as quietly as she could.

They were waiting there for her in the hallway. Splinter stood slightly apart from the boys, arms folded and looking sulky, but his fur was neatly washed and combed through and he was wearing a nice shirt which… was more flattering than some things she’d seen on him. April could be that generous. Donnie was wearing his sweater vest combo and standing ramrod straight like someone was about to push him onto a stage—no surprise there—and Mikey was wearing some nice slacks and an orange turtle-neck and beaming widely, carrying a casserole dish.

“Hiii, April,” he whispered. “We clean up good, right?”

“Puttin’ the rest of us to shame, Mikey,” she said with a grin, and gave him a fist bump.

“Speak for yourself,” Leo said lazily, draped over Raph’s shoulder like a blue and green fur stole. He was wearing one of his over-large hoodies; comfort over style, and April was relieved, to be honest. “I think Raph gives him a run for his money.”

April turned to take him in, and-- “Damn, son.” She gave a low whistle at Raph’s white suit and pink shirt, hanging on him pretty stylishly for all that his spikes had already done a number on his elbows. “You go shopping for that? Tell me you didn’t just have that hidden in your room this whole time.”

Raph preened a little before glancing down at the carpeted floor, pushing his fingers together bashfully. “We had to find something nice for Casey to wear anyway, so Raph thought—”

“Raph thought right.” April gave him a double thumbs up. And then frowned. She couldn’t see the last invited guest. “Is he not here?”

“Oh, he’s here,” Leo said quietly, a small helpless smile on his face. “He’s just shy.”

And Raph and Donnie separated so she could peer down the hallway; at Casey, who was literally lurking in the gloomy corner by the entrance to the stairwell, hunched as if trying to make himself small.

April frowned.

“Be nice, April,” Mikey whispered. “He’s, uh…”

“I get it.”

April made her way past them all, coming to a stop in front of Casey. He cleaned up pretty nicely, actually; she wasn’t sure who’d dressed him, but dress jeans and a nice jacket over a dark T-shirt nearly made him look like a different person. His hair was tamed and in a neat braid, and he looked up and gave her the shyest of smiles. “Hi, April. Sorry, uh…”

“Not used to the idea of family dinner?”

“Not really a thing where I come from, no.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing some of the strands to come loose, and she hid a grin. “But it’s not that. Um… are you sure I’m... welcome? I’m not really—”

“You think these guys would take you for a fashion montage if you weren’t?” she said drily. “Mom and Dad know you’re coming, trust me. They’ve made some simpler food just to make sure you can stomach it okay, and they’re looking forward to meeting all of this extended family. Which you are a part of.”

“Tooold youuu,” Leo sing-songed down the hall.

“Shut it, Nardo.”

“You can’t talk to me like that, I’m walking wounded—”

“Who’s walking?”

There was some general cackling. Casey’s next smile was more relaxed, and he let April tug him back down the hallway.

...and then they all jumped as the door to April’s apartment was flung open suddenly and her mother leaned casually in the open frame, tugging her oven mitts off, meeting their deer-in-headlights stares with a wry look of her own.

“Hi—um, that—um--” Donnie pushed forward and saluted her mother, and April clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh. “Hello, Mrs O’Neil! As you can see, I am a sweater vest—I mean—”

Leo made a strangled sound and flopped limply over Raph’s shoulder; he’d have slid down if Raph hadn’t reached out to steady him with a tired move that said he was very used to this happening. “Oh pizza supreme, don’t make me laugh, you know I’m fragile—”

Mikey slapped a hand over Leo’s mouth, smile bright and eyes a little too wide. “Hi, Mrs O’Neil!” he chirped. “It’s nice to meet you, we brought casserole!”

Said casserole was snatched out of his hands a moment later by Splinter, coughing dramatically before he gave a dramatic bow that meant he was mostly addressing Carol’s knees. “I brought casserole, in fact! It’s my traditional green bean casserole, handed down through generations, made for one of my biggest fans!”

Carol raised an eyebrow.

“Dad, we talked about this,” Donnie muttered.

“No, you talked about this,” Splinter huffed. “I was going to come dressed in style, until you rudely tackled me to the ground and took my clothes.”

Carol’s raised eyebrow took on a level of alarm, and April sidled up to her mother with a quick hiss. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“No, we did in fact do that,” Donnie said flatly. “Trust me, it was necessary.”

“...okay, it is as bad as it sounds—”

“My own sons,” Splinter grumbled. Then he straightened, beaming at Carol. “Children, am I right? Full of well-meaning hypocrisy. Sure, my son gets to dress as that hack Don Johnson, but when I try to dress as—”

“Yeah, Raph still doesn’t know who that is.”

Splinter wilted. To April’s delight, Carol seemed to wilt right along with him. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Well,” her mom said, dry as the desert. “If you’re done making us feel old as dirt, won’t you come in? Unless you want to spend the evening in my hallway doing more fashion checks. I could always bring you a mirror. But if you’ll take my word for it, I think you all look just fine.”

She stepped aside and they filed past, shuffling into the living room more bashfully than April had ever seen them, which was altogether kind of endearing. Carol paused long enough for April to close in with Casey still in hand, and gave him a warm smile that made him relax just a little more.

Then she hissed quietly to April, “Biggest fan?”

Eugh boy. “Yeah, you uh…” April trailed off, wondering if she could just deflect that question with a shrug as if to say she had no clue. But she knew Splinter; he would keep making comments, so better forewarned, right? “You know how you started watching Lou Jitsu movies with me? And, uh, how much you like them? To the point Dad threatened divorce if you mentioned Lou’s tight pants one more time?” Which was an empty threat, given Dad watched those movies almost as closely as her mom did, and April suspected it was for the same reasons. It had been a running joke for a while.

“Yes…?”

“Great! Get ready to be emotionally scarred.”

“...what?”

---------

They introduced themselves properly once they were all inside, and to her credit Carol was still smiling, even if April could see the faintly wild look in her eyes. At least she’d never told Splinter just how much her mom liked him-- enough to say she was a huge fan, nothing more.

“August will be here in a moment,” she said cheerfully. “He’s just finishing up with the roast, and then we’ll serve. You can call us Mr and Mrs O’Neil, or you can call us Carol and August. We don’t mind. It’s lovely to meet you at last. Donatello, your sweater vest looks great.”

Donnie jerked ramrod straight again, voice high-pitched. “Thank you!”

Bless her mom for throwing him a bone. April grinned. “So, this is Splinter, or Hamato Yoshi—”

“You can call me Lou,” Splinter said with a small bow, taking the casserole from his hands with his tail and depositing it onto the table with a flourish. April had never seen him like this. It was hilarious and painful, but the mortified looks on the guys’ faces made it worth it. (Casey just looked clueless. Lucky kid.)

“Nice to meet you, Lou,” Carol said, politely and as if April hadn’t upended her world not thirty seconds ago. Damn, but her mom was good. “And Donnie I’ve already met. Hmm, can I guess the others?”

“Oh, go ahead,” Leo said cheerfully, waving at her from his perch, and her smile softened considerably as she glanced up at him, taking in the curve of bandages just visible through the over-large neck of his hoodie.

“You would be Leo, then. You doing okay, sweetie?”

Leo blinked. “Uh… yes? I mean, of course! I mean—” He darted a look at April, eye ridges raised.

“She knows,” April assured him. “It’s okay.”

Leo grinned in response, letting himself flop loosely in Raph’s grip to finger gun with both hands, and April grinned as Raph obligingly kept hold of him and rolled his eyes. “I may be a little bruised, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs O! I also rock a mean sweater vest, but my brothers would only let me travel casual.”

“You’re lucky we let you come at all,” Donnie muttered.

“You’re just jealous because I, unlike some brothers I could mention, did not make my first impression in—”

Then he yelped as Splinter smacked him in the side of the head with his tail. A light smack, April noted with amusement, as Donnie flicked him from the other side. Clearly Leo was slowly losing all his coddling rights.

“Well, a little bruised or not, it’s nice to meet you too,” Carol said easily. “April did tell me you’ve been laid up until just recently, so we’ve made up the couch for you, okay? There’s no shame in tapping out early if you get tired.”

Leo blinked at her, looking taken aback. And then his answering smile was a faintly relieved, hesitant thing as he held out a hand for her to shake, voice small.

“Deal. Thanks, mom.”

You could have heard a pin drop.

“Mom?” Mikey said slyly.

Leo promptly went as red as his stripes and planted his face on Raph’s jacket. But he kept his hand out until Carol shook it—gently, holding back a laugh—and then went full limp noodle. “Case,” he whined. “Help me out here?”

Casey helpfully reached out to tug the hood over his head. Leo gave him a thumbs up.

April dissolved into cackling as Carol turned a carefully blank face on Raph. “April’s told me just enough about all of you, really. You must be Raph. And this sweet little man here must be Mikey?”

She was expecting a clap back from Mikey about being little, so April was very surprised when he just dimpled sweetly and gave her his best I-am-an-innocent-child impression. His cheeks were faintly flushed, and for the first time she wondered if she should be recording this for posterity. That was like… three blushes, so far.

“That’s right! Raph’s all gentle giant and I am just the sweetest little package, baby.”

“I’m sure,” Carol said, straight-faced. And then lastly she turned to Casey, and her smile was warm. “And you’re Casey Jones. Are you nervous?”

“A little,” he admitted, tugging at his braid but he smiled back. “But it’s so nice to meet you again. I mean—sorry, the first time, I’ve just heard a lot about you—”

April blinked, mouth open as she considered that particular insinuation. And wasn’t surprised when Leo’s head suddenly shot up, all sign of embarrassment gone and with a blinding smile. “Yeah, I gotta say April has told us so much about you guys that it does kind of feel like we’ve met you already!”

“Well, then,” Carol said lightly. “You’ll have to tell me all about yourselves to make us even. April’s told us a little this week, but it seems we might have years to catch up on.”

“We would be more than happy to regale you with tales of our exploits,” Splinter beamed back. “And in turn perhaps you could tell me your—”

“And we should all sit down because Dad’s probably almost done,” April said loudly. “Save the talking for after dinner! I’m starved.”

“I should help August bring the dishes out anyway.” Carol gave April a pointed look. “Hon? Would you give me a hand? The rest of you, table’s just through here…”

---------

“What do you mean that’s Lou Jitsu?” August hissed, handing April the cauliflower bake. “He’s a rat. Lou Jitsu isn’t a rat.”

“He is now, babe,” Carol said blandly.

“A rat with four turtle children?”

“And a human child.”

“How does that even—”

“Remember asking about the skeleton, sweet pea?”

“...okay, fine,” he muttered, nose wrinkling. “I’ll be good.”

April eyed them both. “Look at it this way, dad. The longstanding threat to your happy marriage has been removed.”

“April—”

“—O’Neil!”

She burst into giggles and skipped out of the kitchen, balancing the cauliflower and potatoes and the jug of gravy, and wasn’t surprised to find Mikey just outside the kitchen door, making grabby hands for her dishes. April cheerfully palmed them off and returned for more, grinning sunnily at the twin glares of her parents. “Anyway, Casey’s… uh, adopted? That’s the simplest way of explaining him.”

“Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting the one I find the strangest to be a normal human boy,” Carol mused. She frowned. “Is he the one from the, uh. Future?”

“The future,” her dad repeated back mechanically.

“Shush, dear.”

“Yeah.” And April had both a burning curiosity of how Casey knew her mother in the future and a dread to find out, because she was pretty sure none of them got happy endings where Casey came from. “Best to leave that well alone. Too heavy for a dinner topic.”

“Right. Future discussions are off the table,” August said, with a weary tone that said sure, fine, this might as well happen. “The invasion too, obviously. Anything else we haven’t already covered?”

“No. But just so you know,” April said mildly, “Rats have excellent hearing.”

She nudged aside her suddenly frozen parents, scooped up the roast tray, and sailed back out to the table.

Mikey took that from her, too, apparently intent on setting the table with a certain amount of flare, and April let him, more than happy to watch him handling pans that he might have had difficulty holding a week ago. She knew his arms were still bandaged under the sweater-- and knew also why he was wearing an actual turtleneck, no pun intended. The scarring up to his chin was still fading, but they’d stopped hurting days ago, leaving him with full range of movement.

(“Unless I’m really tired,” he’d said, giving her jazz hands at their last movie night. “So I’m still being careful.”

“Yes,” Draxum had said flatly. “It’s amazing how fast one heals when one actually pays attention to a mystic’s expert advice.” Mikey had thrown a pillow at him, end of discussion.

...which reminded her--)

“Hey, Mikey. Barry knows he’s invited, right?”

That earned her a predictable snort from Leo, who had been settled into a chair by Raph. “I’m not sure Draxum does family dinners.”

“You’d be surprised,” Mikey muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said what a surprise.” He twirled the roast tray once and settled it down on the table with flare. “He’ll be here. Just in time for dessert, he said! He’s looking forward to it.”

“Uh huh.” Donnie eyed him. “You threatened him, didn’t you?”

“I would never.” Mikey waved a finger at them, planting his other hand on his hip. “I merely pointed out it would be sad if he wasn’t included in this family get-together, given he is now family, unless he wants to deny any such attachment, and shunning a family dinner isn’t the proper or the neighbourly thing to do—”

“Oh, my apologies. You emotionally blackmailed him.”

“That’s better.”

“Why dessert?” April wanted to know.

“He’s, uh…” Mikey trailed off. “Well, it. Takes a while to bake brownies.”

Raph squinted. “Draxum is baking. Brownies.”

They all paused to take in that mental image.

“Oh, that’s not going to be edible,” Donnie muttered. “The guy can make a sandwich. Barely.”

“He can make a mean gruel, though,” April said wryly. “I mean. Literally.”

“I left him a recipe!” Mikey defended, though the way his shoulders hunched told April it was more out of loyalty than any actual belief in Barry’s capabilities. She frowned.

“Shoulda just told him store bought was fine, Mikes. Then he’d be here for dinner.”

Mikey gasped theatrically. “First of all, how dare you.” Leo gave a snort at his little brother’s affront and reached out for the gravy boat, flinching back when Mikey slapped his hand away without even looking. “Second! He wanted to try. You don’t want to hurt the nice goat scientist’s feelings, do you?”

“You want an honest answer?” Leo muttered. Mikey yanked his hood violently down over his face.

“Letting him try is just fine,” Splinter said with great generosity, leaning back in his chair. He’d been sporting the same cheesy grin since April walked back in from the kitchen, and that promised to be entertaining. But later. “When he fails, we can point and laugh—”

The way Mikey just teleported right in there to tower over his dad was impressive, and April reached out automatically to grab the back of Splinter’s chair before he could tip it all the way backwards in sheer terror. “We are not doing that.”

“No, we are not,” Raph said comfortingly, hands up as it to forestall a tiny mystic warrior explosion. “I know some will hate to hear it, but Draxum really pulled through for us. We should support him! In his, uh… domestic endeavours.”

“And his mad science endeavours.”

“Donnie.”

“What? I have my interests.”

“I do hate to hear it,” Leo said slowly, and they all turned to look at him as he peered out from his hood like some evil alternate Kermit!Leo. “Buuut you know. There’s petty, and then there’s mean. If he’s trying to be nice, let him try.”

There was silence at the table for a second time.

Then Donnie stood and pointed dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done with our brother?”

“Wow, Leo, that’s very mature of you,” Raph said suspiciously.

“I know, right?” Mikey wiped away a fake tear. “He’s come so far.”

“I am the very model of maturely letting my grudges go,” Leo said, stifling a yawn. “And if he accidentally poisons us all, I can hold it over you for at least a month.”

Oh. That was more like it.

---------

It took her parents longer than strictly necessary to bring out the rest of the food, and April was pretty sure they’d just been schooling their expressions into the most poker-faced they could, mortified by the knowledge that Splinter had probably overheard every word-- and honestly, given that Splinter occasionally gave a small muffled snort into his hand and tried to look innocent every time his sons stared at him, Carol and August were. Probably still talking about him. She was kind of glad she couldn’t hear them. April shoved his chair with a foot as she sat down and levelled him with mock glare over the rim of her glasses.

“Be nice,” she whispered severely.

Splinter leaned towards her to whisper back. “April, such little faith. I am already having the time of my life at this dinner. Why would I do anything to spoil the mood? I know how to act around fans.”

“These aren’t just fans, these are my parents.”

“Well, I know how to act around parents, too,” he said, waggling his eyebrows and outright leering, oh god. “I was a teenager, once, and dating was—”

“Please stop talking,” she hissed.

Splinter gave her a wide and mischievous grin, and that’s when it occurred to her he was being a little shit on purpose. But his smile faded, and he folded his hands delicately on the table in front of him. “Trust me. I know this is important.”

She breathed out. Yeah, okay. She did, after all, trust him, and he had dressed nicely for dinner. If he was truly set on arriving dressed as his eighties-Lou-Jitsu persona, April was pretty sure the guys wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

“What’s important?” Mikey said from the other side of the table, and she glanced up to find the others looking at them with curiosity.

“Good table manners,” Splinter said mildly. “Which means you should all stop leaning on the tablecloth like that. Elbows off!”

They all immediately pulled back and sat primly at the table, looking various shades of guilty—except for Casey, who flinched back from the tablecloth as if it might bite him. Poor guy had no reference for things like this, did he?

“Surprised you know decent table manners,” Donnie muttered.

“If it is such a surprise to you, I have failed as a father and we shall practice them more often at home.”

“Don’t you—”

“Leo,” April interrupted, watching Leo list faintly to the side. “You’re hurt. Nobody’s gonna care if you keep leaning.”

“Thank you,” he said fervently, and promptly flopped forward again, just as the kitchen door swung open.

Oh, good. Her parents had gotten over their crisis and were ready to feed the hungry. Carol hip-checked the door with her arms full of dishes and Mikey immediately jumped to his feet to help, and she shook her head at him, smiling gratefully. “I’m okay. But if you could help August with the glasses—”

“On it!” he said cheerfully and caught the door for her, holding it until she was clear before vanishing inside.

Carol smiled widely at the table and the guys smiled back, some smiles more natural than others—Donnie still looked like he was trying to get A Good Grade In Family Dinner—and she slid her burden of plates easily onto the table around the roast platter.

“Okay, so it’s a bit more buffet style than a usual roast dinner, but I thought that would be better, given I don’t know what you’d prefer. Casey, hon?” She favoured him with a warm look, and Casey straightened even more. “I’ve got both seasoned and steamed vegetables here, and a few alternatives in case the meat is too much for you to handle. The seasoned ones are on the spicy side. April tells me you’re still getting used to richer food?”

“Oh…” Casey blinked, darting a look at April that was both surprised and faintly grateful, and she huffed. She’d told him this already. Did he think she’d lied to him? “That’s—yes, that’s right, ma’am. I appreciate it, I’m sorry you had to go to so much effort—”

“None of that.” She handed him a plate. “This is a dinner for all of us. I’d feel like a lousy host if you couldn’t enjoy it. Pick and choose as you like, take it slowly. No one’s gonna judge. That includes the rest of you, just FYI.”

“No judgement!” Raph saluted, eyes darting to Donnie. “We appreciate it, Mrs O.”

“Thank you,” Donnie muttered quietly, eyes on the tablecloth.

“You’re very welcome.”

Mikey exited the kitchen with a tray of glasses and August trailed behind him with a collection of bottles-- soda and juice, and something that distinctly looked like the wine from the top of the fridge, and April squinted at it before raising an eyebrow at her dad.

“None for minors,” he whispered back. “Liquid courage.”

She snorted. “You’ll be fine.”

“But will your mom?”

“I heard that.” Carol snatched the wine away and deposited it by Splinter, whose eyes lit up. “Anyway. We’re sorry to keep you all waiting. Dig in! Don’t wait on us, there’s plenty for everyone.”

Leo put his hand up. “I admire your optimism, but I still vote Raph goes last. He’ll inhale everything here if he gets the chance—”

“Leo!” Raph sounded scandalised.

“What?” Donnie said, finally looking up with a more natural smirk on his face. “You know he’s right.”

“There’s a lot of me!” The poor guy was going as red as his mask, and April hid a grin. “You know Raph’s still a growing boy!”

“Raph can have as much food as he likes,” Carol said firmly, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder. God, April loved her mom so much. She was just rolling with this table of lunatics. “I honestly wasn’t sure how much to cook, so we’ve got plenty extra even if you do somehow inhale everything here. Just try not to inhale the dishes.”

“I would never,” Raph said, sounding horrified. “Turtle’s honour—”

April burst into giggles. “She’s joking, Raph, chill.”

“Oh.” Raph blinked. He met Carol’s gaze, who stared unflinchingly back and held up a hand.

Raph blinked again. Then he hesitantly gave her a high five, watched Carol’s smile grow, and finally grinned, the tension going right out of his shoulders.

April loved to see it.

“Aight, everyone,” she said, clapping her hands. “No more picking on Raph unless you want me to poke fun at you fussy eaters to make it even. Dig in, and don’t you dare insult my mama’s cooking.”

“We would never!” came the chorus.

Yeah. This should’ve happened years ago.

---------

The meal passed with some minor chatter—mostly complimenting the chef and asking for plates of food to be passed around. Mikey helped Casey pick out some simpler fare for his plate and he ate sparingly, but the expression on his face said he savoured every moment of it. Donnie was similarly picky for Donnie reasons, and looked faintly apologetic about the whole thing until April kicked him gently under the table and sent him a text.

April: >> Dad has sensory issues >> dw abt it

He relaxed a little after that, flashed her a small relieved smile, and even unwound from his stage fright enough to engage in conversation with her dad about the subway station and its abandoned trains. Mikey and Raph ate with their usual flare, though Mikey paused on each individual dish to gleefully exchange cooking tips with her mom. Splinter was surprisingly well-mannered, given April had seen him more than enough times with cake crumbs all throughout his fur.

Leo was being uncharacteristically picky, but he’d only come off a simple diet himself not so long ago, and the painkillers would be doing a number on his appetite. Raph and Donnie were both piling his favourites on his plate and he was clearly enjoying the food, but April had never seen him eating so slowly before, still balancing one arm on the table to support himself. Poor guy.

She wasn’t the only one to notice. Carol watched him waver and frowned. “You doing okay, Leo?”

He promptly flashed a peace sign at her, beaming. “Oh, for sure! I’m just a little low on energy. Kinda want a little bit of everything here, but—“

“Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak?”

“Hah…” His grin became rueful, and he lowered the fork to his plate. “Not weak enough to stop me eating your delicious food! Tragically, I have no devoted servant to feed me lovingly by hand, so I’ll make do.”

“Um—”

“That was absolutely a joke, Case, don’t you dare.”

April grinned at Casey as he wilted back into his own seat. But okay, yeah, she could read the signs—from Leo’s slouch, growing worse by the minute, and the glances from his brothers that probably weren’t as surreptitious as they hoped. April nudged her mother quietly and made a meaningful gesture toward the living room, and Carol gave her a thumbs up and kept smiling pleasantly as if nothing had happened. “Well, I’m glad my delicious food has such a draw to it. I heard Barry is gracing us with a visit and dessert, is that right?”

Donnie visibly shuddered, but Mikey beamed as if she’d complimented his six year old son’s bronze swimming medal. “Yeah! He’s making brownies! He assures me they’ll be edible.”

“Consider me assured,” Carol said dryly. “I must say I’ve never tried Barry’s cooking before this in any form. We invited him for dinner a few times but he always refused. I guess I know why, now.”

Splinter peered at her. “You do?”

“Well, uh…” She looked sheepish. “I never really saw him out of his robe. He seemed like such a shut-in at the time, but… I guess dressing for dinner might have given away a few things.”

“Ah yes, that sounds like Draxum,” Splinter muttered. “Shut-in, barely bothers dressing—”

“Sounds like someone else we know,” Leo said sweetly, and Splinter choked.

“Leo defended Barry,” Mikey whispered in awe, and Leo pointed his fork at him.

“Leo saw low hanging fruit and went for it,” he corrected. “Besides, something about houses and stones? Isn’t that how it goes? Don’t throw glass at a stone house, it’s pointless and makes a mess?”

“Nardo, that is not how it goes and you know it--”

Carol coughed politely. “If you’re done being mean to your elders…” They all shut up and tried to look innocent—save Splinter, who merely stared back at his sons mournfully as if he could not believe the wrong they’d done him. “It seems there might be a pause between dinner and dessert, so I was going to suggest you kids go pile up in the living room after and go through our movie collection. August and I can continue to pick on your dad in your absence.”

“You can?” Splinter said warily.

“In a manner of speaking.” Her smile was warm, and maybe only April saw the sharpness around its edges this time, and she swallowed. But… again, she knew this was coming, too. “A parent to parent talk, as it were. Nothing too serious, I promise.”

And it gave them a good reason to transfer Leo to the couch without him feeling like he was ruining anything. April grinned to see his eyes light up at the idea.

“Oh, are you roasting our dad, too? That seems so fitting given the spread—”

“I dunno, Leo, a roast followed by a roast seems a bit overkill,” Mikey said thoughtfully.

“There’s no such thing as too much delicious roast.” Leo leaned forward. Which also had the effect that he could support his weight entirely on the table, April noted. “We’d be more than happy to clear out of your amazing hair until the totally safe brownies arrive.”

Carol transferred her smile back to him, the sharpness gone. “You can take your plate with you, if you like. I don’t want you to feel you have to rush through eating. April, could you find him one of our TV trays?”

“I’m sure that’s doable.” Actually, at this point she had no idea if those had survived the home invasion, but there was one way to find out. “Is everyone else done? I could help clear the plates—”

“No, that’s fine, hon. Your dad and I will clear the table.” Carol gave her a peck on the cheek and a small, meaningful squeeze to her shoulder. “You stay with your friends. August?”

August blinked up at her, startled, half a potato still speared on his fork. “Oh, now? But I just-- okay.” And he shoved the potato into his mouth, fork and all, to gather up empty dishes.

Leo watched him do it, and smiled lazily.

Then there was a sudden quiet after both of them vanished into the kitchen, and he slumped forward.

“That was… an attempt at subtlety, right?”

April grinned. “Dad doesn’t do subtle too well, that’s for sure. But they’re parents, Leo. They’re just worried about you.”

“They only just met me,” he grumbled, resting his head on his arm. “They’re really nice, but—”

“My mom probably decided you were adoptable at about the point Donnie made high-pitched noises in her general direction, my guy. Just accept her concern and move on.”

“Oh. So good to know my humiliation had some kind of strategic effect,” Donnie muttered, reaching across the table to snag Leo’s plate. “You want any more while we’re here?”

“...I’m fine.”

“Well, Raph wouldn’t mind a bit more beef,” Raph said comfortably, sharing a glance with Casey over his head. “And some potatoes! We can just use Leo’s plate for that.”

“Blue?” Splinter was quiet and out of his chair, patting his knee, and Leo lifted his head to peer at him. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

“Man, all this fuss.” Leo grinned faintly. “I promise I’m fine--”

Mikey loomed on his other side, not saying a word.

“—okay, maaaybe I wasn’t quite ready for sitting upright at a table for so long.” He made a face. “But I refuse to be banned from the O’Neil family dinner! You know how long we’ve waited for this—”

“Well, congrats, achievement unlocked,” April said, holding out her fist, and he obligingly bumped it with his own. “Now go curl up on our couch and quit your whining.”

“I wasn’t whining!”

Donnie raised an eyebrow. “He whined, whiningly.”

“Raaaph, they’re picking on me!” Leo whined.

Raph raised an eyebrow. “You wanna complain about it some more or do you want the comfy couch?”

“...couch, please.”

---------

Splinter stayed at the table, waving them off dramatically with a napkin, but the smile he gave April as she left was reassuring. It settled her nerves a little—she wasn’t stupid, she knew what was coming—and so she trailed after Raph as he carted Leo into the living room and settled him on the couch, burying him in comforters.

The sigh of relief Leo made as he sank into the cushions was more than enough to convince her that the move was well timed. “Heaven. I think everyone at family dinners should laze on a couch, honestly.”

“We’d need more couches for that.”

“That could be arranged,” Donnie said, passing a bottle to Casey and then… dropping to his hands and knees to investigate the carpet. What. April folded her arms and watched him.

“I think they’d need more room for the couches,” Casey said, opening the bottle—and oh, those were Leo’s painkillers.

“That could also be—”

“Donnie.” She scowled at him. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the damage,” he said absently, finally finding the edge of the carpet section and peeling it back, scowling at the torn up flooring beneath. “Huh. Bishop really refused to help pay for this?”

“Yeah, well. Bishop also didn’t arrest me for, I dunno, cavorting with evil yokai or whatever, so. I’ll take it.”

“This balance doesn’t add up,” Leo said mildly, taking his pills from Casey and his glass of juice. “Mr Edgelord also put you in danger in the first place. And your parents. Who we are adopting, by the way.”

“I don’t think it works that way—”

“It does, I don’t make the rules. Donnie, verdict?”

“Huh?” Donnie peered up at him. “Oh yeah, yeah, I guess we can adopt.”

“I meant the floor. But okay! Duly noted.”

Mikey started cackling as April threw her hands up and went on a hunt for the TV trays. Donnie blinked at Leo for a moment, then turned back to run his hands over the damage, flicking his goggles down. “I’m not much of a handyman type, but it looks like the structural integrity is intact. It’s just cosmetic and not particularly safe to walk on in the dark. Though that… is an understatement. The Krang did this?”

“Barry did, actually.” The TV trays had survived after all. April fished one out from its hiding place and passed it over to Raph. “But if he hadn’t, I’d probably be kind of torn to pieces, so--” She broke off to smile softly at Raph as he full-body flinched, and then stumbled as Mikey latched onto her like a koala. “Sorry. Anyway, I figure I’d give him a pass on that one.”

Leo slow blinked at her, resting his chin on the back of the couch, and his smile was an oddly cold one. “Yeah. Seems fair. Donnie, you still got a back door into Bishop’s stuff and things?”

Donnie hadn’t looked up, and his voice was very flat. “First of all, stuff and things is like literally the lamest way you could explain a black ops infrastructure, and second of all, why is it you just assume I would still be in his systems now that we’re—”

“Dee.”

“He’s upgraded his security in the past week. I’m doing the digital equivalent of eating popcorn and sidestepping his laughable experts.”

“Good to know. I s’pose getting on his nerves wouldn’t be the smart thing to do right now.”

“It is the opposite of smart. But the EPF is already footing the bill for the O’Neil hotel stay, I don’t see why they can’t shell out for the floor as well.” Donnie finally sat up, flicking his goggles back, and frowned at the scratched walls. “New paint job all round, actually.”

Leo nodded in satisfaction and settled into his nest of comforters, taking the tray from Raph who was surprisingly… not seeming even slightly upset about the whole idea of stealing money from a bunch of amoral secret agents.

April opened her mouth and shut it. “Uh—”

Donnie finally smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“Seriously, he deserves it.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about!” she snapped, and she waved an arm at Donnie as aggressively as she could with Mikey still limpet-clinging to her from behind. “You guys are on thin ice with him as it is—”

“So?” Leo said, eyes drifting shut. “He’s also on thin ice with us.”

“April.” Donnie finally got to his feet to regard her intently, leaning on the edge of the couch and deftly avoiding Leo’s attempt to nudge him with a foot. “I see you’re worried, but please give me some credit for basic money laundering tactics. The man’s never going to notice where the money actually went, if he even notices it’s gone at all. He’s got bigger fish to fry and it’s not as if we took millions.”

“You know, it says a lot when you say ‘basic money laundering tactics’ and everyone just rolls with it,” she said wryly, but her hackles settled a little. Bishop did deserve a little payback. She just didn’t want them painting even more of a target on their backs. “Raph? You sure you’re okay with this?” He was quiet and looked a little troubled, so--

“Well, see, the thing you gotta remember is…” Raph paused, clasping his hands together in front of him for a moment, and then exhaled gustily.

“...Raph only got to hit him once.”

There was a brief pause.

Leo burst into laughter, then hissed an ow and sank out of sight onto the couch, which caused Raph to dive for him with a panicked look. April wasn’t particularly concerned, given she could see Donnie rolling his eyes. She huffed a faint laugh herself, finally relaxing, and was rewarded with a squeeze of her shoulders and a full hug from behind.

“He messes with family, we mess with him!” Mikey said cheerfully in her ear. “Just go with it, April. You know Donnie covers his tracks.”

“Hmm.” But she smiled anyway, reaching up to pat his head. “Okay. Not gonna complain, as long as I can find a way to explain to my parents. But seriously—don’t go getting arrested or dissected or whatever on my account.”

“Depends on if we get a sequel or not,” Leo wheezed from the couch, resurfacing as Raph helped him sit back up.

“You sure you’re okay?” Raph said, still fretting.

“Oh, peachy. I can’t believe you punched a government agent and I didn’t get to see it.”

“Skill issue,” Donnie said, sounding bored. “Don’t get kidnapped next time, idiot.”

“Wow, rude. Raph, throw a pillow at him for me.”

“Yeah, Raph’s not doing that. Eat your dinner.”

“Aw, c’mon--”

A cushion sailed across the room and clipped Donnie in the face, sending him reeling backward, and Mikey caught it on the rebound, hollering. “For Leo’s honour!”

“You got kidnapped too, you know—”

“For my honour! For everyone’s honour except yours!”

“GASP!”

And the room promptly descended into chaos, which honestly she’d been expecting sooner than this. April just grinned, clicking her phone camera on to record Mikey’s subsequent attempted pillow beat-down of a hissing Donatello. Raph alternated between snorted laughter, half-hearted attempts at lectures, and trying to keep Leo’s tray of food balanced while Leo picked roast potato daintily off the plate with his fingers like popcorn, observing the proceedings with glee. He caught April’s filming and nearly choked, before sinking back out of sight on the couch again with a wave of his greasy fingers as April giggled.

It took her a few moments to realise that Casey had vanished from the room.

---------

“They sound like they’re having fun,” Carol noted.

“They’re probably destroying your living room,” Splinter replied glumly, taking the glass of wine August offered him. “Boys.”

“I’m sorry. Have you seen our child?”

“...teenagers.”

“Better.” Carol grinned and offered her own glass for a toast. “Here’s to new friendships?”

“Very traditional!” But he beamed anyway, clinking against her glass and then August’s. “To new friends and old fans. Aaand awkward conversations.”

Ah. “Kind of obvious, isn’t it?”

“A little.” His smile faded, showing a seriousness that seemed somehow out of place. “But you are good parents and April thinks the world of you. If we did not have this conversation, I would be a little concerned.”

August took his seat again, sitting far more relaxed now that the kids had gone, and tapped the rim of his own glass. “Your boy, Leo. How did he get so hurt?”

Something flickered through Splinter’s eyes that she couldn’t quite catch, and he stared down at his wine, mouth twisting. “A very long story. All of my boys were hurt during the invasion, but Blue unfortunately took the brunt of it. I am as proud of them as I was terrified for them.” His voice was far too mild for that statement and all the depth it contained, and Carol bit her lip as he tossed half the glass back.

Then he beamed at them. “But that is not the question you really want to ask.”

No. No, it wasn’t.

Carol needed to know, but she wasn’t sure how to phrase it and found herself hesitating for other reasons besides—so she glanced to August, who had a knack for being terribly blunt at times. He gave her a brief nod, and put his glass down.

“How safe is our daughter?”

Straight to the point. Splinter took a smaller drink, and met his gaze.

“All things being equal, far safer than the average teenager.”

August frowned unhappily, and his voice was flat. “She was involved in an alien invasion. They came to our house. Her nose was broken—”

“Lou,” Carol said softly. “We’re just worried about her. Your boys weren’t just here for the invasion, they fought on the front line. And so did she. Didn’t she?”

“Your daughter,” Splinter said steadily, “Took out one of those aliens with a wrecking ball. She blinded it, one eye at a time.”

“Is that meant to make us feelbetter?” August demanded, and Splinter turned a sober gaze on him. “We know April can look after herself. She shouldn’t have to. How much danger is she in just by associating with your family?”

“August.” Her voice was sharper that time.

“I’m sorry,” her husband said more quietly. “I don’t mean it quite like that—they’re obviously good kids. You should know, the turtle and rat thing is… confusing, but in the end that isn’t what this is about.”

Splinter smiled a little. “What this is about is that you think my boys dragged April into their fight and made her a target. Has April ever told you how long she has known them for?”

August paused, but it was only to calculate the passage of time. They both knew when it was that April had come home talking about the boys she’d met on the roof. Six… seven years ago? Maybe eight? And...ah.

“This is the first time she’s been in trouble,” Carol said, feeling relieved. She understood. After all, holding an alien invasion against Splinter’s family would be extremely rude. April could have been hurt worse if she didn’t know such powerful people--

“Oh no,” Splinter said bluntly. “She’s definitely been in trouble before this.”

“...what?”

“Let’s see…” He sipped his wine. “She’s been captured by your upstairs neighbour at least twice by my count—”

“What.”

“Don’t make those faces, he was nice enough to let her go again. Then there was the fiasco with Big Mama and Shredder, the yokai train, tangling with the Foot clan and fighting at the stadium—”

August stood up. “I’m sorry, she was at the stadium? When that maniac was threatening to wipe out the human race!?”

Splinter raised an eyebrow. “You do know who that maniac was, don’t you?”

---------

April found Casey in her bedroom—or half in, half out, leaning out the window and breathing in the night air. She could hear sharp voices carry over from the kitchen window, and distorted with only a word here or there making it through, but she recognised her mother’s voice all right, shrill with stress, and winced. Splinter had said to trusthim. She was wondering if that had been a bad call.

She sat on the window ledge next to Casey, and he jumped, smacking his head on the window frame before ducking back inside. “Commander—I mean. April. Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“To get some space?” she asked dryly.

“Well…”

Casey rubbed his head for a moment with a wince, then pulled himself inside, and April listened briefly to the yelling before she decided to resist all temptation and closed the window. She didn’t want to hear it, really. It would just make her feel awful and she’d be hearing the fallout soon enough.

“I did come out for space, and to see where the rats, uh. Came in. Or tried to? I felt—felt like it should be looked at,” Casey said awkwardly. “The eavesdropping was unintentional.”

“I believe you,” April said easily. She did. He wasn’t the type—or at least, she didn’t think so. None of them knew him too well, yet. “All quiet on the rat front?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean… evil alien rats, anyway.” He smiled a little. “I think there’s some normal ones further down.”

“Guess we’ll have to live with that.”

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the laughter coming from the living room. Her light was off, but there was enough coming in from outside that she could just catch Casey’s wistful look at the door, and April nudged him gently with a shoulder.

“You wanna go back out?”

“...in a minute. Just… getting my head in order.”

“Too busy? Too loud?” She hesitated. “Weird seeing more people you used to know?”

He jumped a little at that, turning to look at her in the gloom. “How did you—”

“Kind of obvious, Future Boy,” she said dryly. “’Nice to meet you again’?”

“Aheh.” He ducked his head. “Yeah, I guess I’m not so good on the spot. I was… trying to prepare myself for seeing them again, but it was so different once I did.”

“More of a shock than meeting those idiots again?” She gestured toward the living room.

“A little. The turtles—when they grow up, they’re a lot bigger. Sensei is so much taller! And Uncle Raph was huge.” He smiled, looking down at his hands. “And like-- you were an adult. Commander O’Neil. I knew what you would all look like from the photo, and it was kind of like… meeting you all for the first time, even though-- well. It’s complicated.”

He really wasn’t good at it, was he? Not giving things away. Sensei is taller. Raph was huge. It told her so much. It was painful, and a small part of her turned over in grief-- an empathetic grief for the kid next to her, a pang of knowing it could have been so much worse. She was so relieved she could hear Raph through the door. (...yelling “Not the gravy!” which, eugh boy, okay, she would pretend she didn’t hear that.)

Then it occurred to her what Casey was trying to say, and April froze. It didn’t mean anything. They’d avoided the whole apocalypse thing. But--

“My parents… they look the same to you?”

Casey shrugged. “Well, they’re already grown adults. They’re not gonna get another five feet taller or something weird.”

Oh. Oh, that was… she was an idiot. “Hah,” she said after a moment with a small laugh. “For a sec, I thought you meant they like... died young. Or—”

And she felt the silence change, in that dark room.

An idiot twice over—looking at the crystal stillness of Casey’s reaction to her opening her dumbass mouth, April curled up on the seat next to him and knew she’d basically tripped into a minefield. A personal one, because this wasn’t just people Casey had known and grieved.

They’re not dead. They were yelling at Splinter two rooms over, words echoing off the fire escape outside, and she tried to focus on the more rational dread that they were gonna try and stop her from seeing the guys. But…

...she couldn’t stop her stupid brain from picking over the what ifs.

Casey saved her the struggle, touching her arm gently in the dark. “Do you…” He swallowed and tried again. “You wanna hear about them? I’ve probably given you the wrong impression. Well… half of one.”

She found her voice, rough, and forced a smile. “Not if it’s gonna stress you out. Besides—” And this time she stopped herself in time, because saying it’s never gonna happen now, right? to someone who had lived those events was so cheap and awful. It had sure happened for Casey.

“I don’t mind,” he said. “Uh, if you want to know… it might. Actually help.”

Share the grief, huh. Let him not be alone with some of this.

April breathed out. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

---------

“Oh! And there was that one time when she accidentally got a job with an evil ninja organisation, but now that I think about it that was sheer bad luck...”

Carol was getting a headache. She refilled her glass, trying to sort out whether she wanted to laugh or scream or just throw a wine bottle at Lou, which definitely hadn’t featured on her list of Ways To Impress Him before she realised he was now a mutated father of four turtle boys. August had left the room, but the door to the kitchen was open and so she knew he was still listening; he was going through the bottles on the fridge perhaps a touch more violently than he needed to.

“Lou,” she said wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I don’t get you. I would have thought you’d be trying to show us how safe she was with you, not—”

“Not be honest?”

She startled, glancing up to find him watching her shrewdly, and the smile that tucked into the corner of his mouth was an amused one, which made her bristle. Splinter put down his empty glass—his second glass, and he was still very sober in a way she wished she was not—and leaned forward. “Sure! I could have said, ‘Mr and Mrs O’Neil! My boys lead very boring lives! The worst scrape they’ve ever been in was an unfortunate one involving a skateboard and a cat and one too many magnets, and this alien invasion was a complete anomaly! Of course it will never happen again!’ That certainly is one way to lie to your face. I can think of more subtle attempts, but—”

“So you’re making fun of us?” August’s voice wafted from the kitchen, curt, and there was the snap-fizz sound of a fresh can of something being opened. Lord, Carol hoped it was strong and her husband was about to share. “You’re treating this whole situation with such irreverence that—”

“August.” Her voice was too sharp, and she softened it before she continued. “He’s not making fun. Maybe he’s being a bit of an ass, but—”

“I’m being a whole ass, thank you very much,” Splinter said mildly, and she pointed at him, baring her teeth.

“You are not helping. Tell me why.”

He raised his eyebrows at her in genuine curiosity. “Why be honest? Seriously?”

Carol paused, retort dying on the tip of her tongue.

Because. Because while he was telling them in the most irreverent way, it was the truth. Their lives were crazy and chaotic, and he was saying to expect nothing less. That the insanity of their lives had reached out and snagged their daughter at an early age, that—that she’d already been a target before these aliens came along. That Barry wasn’t who he said he was, had been a danger well before this and she’d been trying to introduce him to a daughter he’d apparently already kidnapped twice by that point--

Wait. That didn’t make sense.

“Barry saved April from the zombies,” she said slowly. “And reunited us. Are you saying that’s an act?”

“Good grief, no.” He tapped his empty glass and made a mournful sound, and one ear twitched back. “Much as I hate to give him any credit, Draxum is a changed goat. There is much behind his early motivations that I enthusiastically suggest you ask him about, if for no other reason than that it would be funny! But he just needed to see the bigger picture—that not all humans seek the destruction of anything they don’t understand.” He raised his eyebrows. “I am not sure if he would have come to that conclusion so quickly if it were not for your daughter. She is absolutely his favourite human, you know.”

There was a soft click as August exited the kitchen, shutting the door softly behind him. He came bearing another two bottles of wine and an opened can of Twisted Tea. Carol smiled at him, and he smiled back tiredly, a smile that faded into seriousness as he looked at Splinter. “Do you trust him?”

“With everything but money and my dignity,” Splinter said at once. “He’s a jerk, but he’s our jerk, I suppose.”

“You could have led with that.”

“I could have,” he said agreeably. They waited for him to explain further.

He didn’t.

“Okay,” Carol said finally, accepting the can from her husband and nodding as he refilled glasses all round. “So, what? You gave us a litany of horrific danger that our daughter has been involved with because…”

“Because to lie would have been extremely disrespectful, and you both seem strong enough to take the truth—oh thank you—” To August as his glass was refilled, and he snatched it up. “Of course I do not want you to separate the children. But you are both her parents, and good people, and you deserve to know all the facts so you can make a decision without any of us pretending that anything about this is normal.”

“As if it were as easy as that,” August muttered. “She’s already eighteen.”

“Well, that’s a you problem, I’m afraid.” Splinter sipped his wine. “But I’ve told you all about the disaster situations our children like to land themselves in. That’s only the ones I know of, mind you.”

“That’s so much better, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” He cackled, offering his glass up for a toast. Carol gave him one, half-heartedly, and he favoured her with a softer smile.

“Now, I have a question for you,” he said. “How often has she come home hurt? Upset? Scared?”

August went to retort and then paused, looking thoughtful. Carol glanced between them both and frowned, thinking back. April had been hurt before… there was a sprained ankle she knew had come from an accident at school. A few minor bruises from early scraps with that girl with the purple hair. Nothing she wouldn’t expect from an outspoken teenage girl who picked fights with bullies.

Nothing that had raised alarms, until now. Until April’s poor face, bruising turning her skin even darker, coated in dust with blood in her hair, because aliens had attacked them directly. Because Agent Bishop had set them up as bait, which was a fault that could be laid at his doorstep, not the Hamatos’.

It took an alien invasion.

“I cannot make promises about how safe she will be. How safe any of them will be.” Splinter spoke gently now, drawing circles around the rim of his glass with a claw. He glanced up to meet their gaze. “Chaos magnet teenagers, the lot of them. But I will tell you that she is their big sister, and they would never let anything happen to her. And I will protect my family with everything I have. All of them.” He paused, then flashed a small smile. “It turns out I don’t do too bad a job!”

“All things being equal, you said,” Carol murmured.

“Yes, well. One would hope we don’t have to deal with anything as ridiculous as alien invasions again.” Splinter made a face. “They’re so exhausting! Barring city-destroying events, I truly think your daughter is safer than the average teenage girl. And I swear, large amounts of time go past in which the most exciting thing to happen is we’re late returning a DVD to the store, or the pizza order is wrong.” He paused. “...actually, that second one is generally a cause for alarm—”

Carol snorted in amusement, and she was relieved to see a faint smile on August’s face as well. “So. Family, huh?”

“Er, well. I know she already has a father and all,” Splinter muttered. “Just think of me as, I don’t know, cool wine uncle Randall.”

“Randall?”

“Oh, and while you are considering what to do—” Splinter put his hands together. “Please take into account that we would miss her a great deal. But also, she is the intelligent one. I would appreciate it if you did not remove the brain cell from my boys…?”

Carol grinned outright. “I’m sorry, are you sure you know my daughter that well? Because—”

---------

Carol O’Neil died when Casey was seven.

“There weren’t a lot of kids on base,” he said. “I mean-- there were bunkers, and civilians and their families mostly hid there, all through the cave systems below us… but for kids whose parents were active soldiers and had no one else-- I think there was maybe four of us all up. My mom and yours knew each other pretty well. Mrs O’Neil gave her a lot of advice about kids. I mean, my mom was your age, so…” He paused, staring into the darkness for a long moment with a mild frown. “You guys were friends, too. A long time ago.”

“Your mom and me?” April asked tentatively.

“Yeah. So I got to see you guys a lot as a kid. You worked out in the field more with my mom, and you’d both come back after days on end and mom would demand reports from the playroom and you’d laugh at her.” He grinned at her in the gloom. “But I’d see Mrs O’Neil a lot more because she stayed at base. I think she did a lot of behind the scenes stuff—I was too young to really get it. But I know she looked after us, too, and made sure we ate and got clean and slept safely. Ran drills for us on what to do if we were attacked. Where to run, where to hide. That kinda thing.”

Wonderful way for a kid to grow up. She gave him a small smile. “Mom does like to boss people around. She’s real nice about it, though.”

“Yeah, she is. And she’s, uh. Fierce when threatened.”

And a mama bear through and through. The Krang tried to take out the base while diverting most of the resistance fighters to another location, and they had to run. And Carol had made them go first and put herself between a bunch of scared kids and a pack of Krang war dogs. Casey didn’t see it happen. But he heard it, on the other side of the heavy trap door, too small to really understand what was going on, huddling with three other kids in the corner of the tiny secret basement.

He spared April the details. Her imagination had no problem filling them in for him, and April curled her knees up to her chest, wishing she couldn’t see it so clearly. A sick feeling curled in her gut, and she tried to remind herself her parents were still two rooms over with Splinter, but--

“It was a bad day for… everyone,” he said slowly. “The Krang hit us hard on two fronts, and we lost a lot of people that day. Including—” He broke off, and winced. “Well. Sensei and Master Donatello were the ones that pulled the survivors out, and I don’t remember much following. But I know the base was trashed and we had to move. That… happened, sometimes. Less as time went on.”

So her mom was a casualty among… dozens? Hundreds? More? She had trouble wrapping her head around the numbers and, if she were being honest, April didn’t want to think too hard about it. It was awful enough as it was. There was an odd, terrible relief that her mom hadn’t been singled out somehow. Because she’d seen what the Krang liked to do when they hated someone personally.

It was still a horrible way to die.

(There were no good ways to die in an apocalypse, huh?)

“You okay?”

She blinked, and found Casey much closer than he’d been a moment ago, hovering in concern, and April unclenched her fingers from each other and gave him a wan smile. “Hey, I knew going in it wouldn’t be pretty. I’m more worried about you.”

“You don’t need to be,” he said softly. “This was a long time ago.”

“Time doesn’t magically make things better.”

“I guess not,” he murmured. “But I grew up with this story. This is the first time you’ve heard it.” And he sounded so apologetic about it that she patted his shoulder.

“S’okay, Future Boy. I appreciate knowing. My mom was a total badass to the end, right?”

His smile was hesitant, but there all the same. “Right.”

She took a breath. “So, in for a penny, blah blah blah. If you’re up for it…?”

“...yeah.”

“Dad… did he outlive Mom?”

“By a whole lot.” His smile faded. “I really didn’t know him much until after Mrs O’Neil passed. And then he was kind of everywhere. He threw himself right into intelligence support, and he was so good at it—his strength was logistics and efficiency of movement on a mass scale, and we were still struggling with organisation, so… he and Master Donatello worked together a lot. He wasn’t a fighter, your dad, not like your mom. But he knew his stuff, and I know a lot of his ideas helped keep our home safe and our supply lines going as long as possible. He worked way too much—you came to drag him back to his room so many times.”

Wow. Was it weird to feel proud of her future and now non-existent dad? She hoped he’d never have to go through something similar. August was generally a laid back, quieter guy who enjoyed his trains and ships as hobbies.

That he’d weaponised his knowledge was amazing, but also heartbreaking. April could read between the lines just fine—he buried himself in work because Mom was dead.

“I can’t tell you exactly how he...uh.” Casey bit his lip. “We were always kind of awkward around each other. I think because of Mrs O’Neil. So I kept my distance.”

April frowned. “He can’t possibly have blamed you kids for Mom’s death. I’ll kick his ass. I’ll march right into the kitchen now--”

That surprised a laugh out of him. “No! No, I don’t think he did. But… you know. She died, and we were there. I think… it was just a reminder. And every time I saw him, I’d remember her too, and it just—it was like this presence in the room, I guess. By the time both of us got around to being rational about it, things were just weird. And I wasn’t really a logistics guy and had other places to be, so… we just let things go.”

She wondered what had happened to the other kids. The answer was obvious, given… well, everything. April kept her mouth shut and let Casey tell her the rest: that, actually, her Dad had survived up until the last days before Casey was thrown through Mikey’s time portal. That it was only when they were close to a full rout that he finally fell, along with the rest of the base personnel. That, as far as Casey knew, April had been with him when he died.

And by the clipped, hesitant way he spoke, constantly glancing to her as he paused and searched for words—giving her this heavily edited version, trying not to give her any other information—April could gather that she’d probably died at the same time.

That they all had, maybe. With the base down, and the guys choosing to send Casey back more than twenty years instead of continuing to fight…? That was some Terminator shit right there. Only this time, the good guys were the ones that lost. That wasn’t exactly a surprise; it had been kind of obvious since Casey first arrived. Time travel was a last resort kind of option.

In the future, they all died.

April wished that changing the future would wipe the slate clean for Casey, too. For the rest of them, it was a case of Hooray! Disaster averted! and they could be relieved that none of this would ever happen. But it had, for one of them. She wondered how he was going to cope with that.

“...sorry.”

Annnd he was apologising to her again. April wrinkled her nose—gingerly, it was still healing, stupid Krang—and flicked him on the forehead, smiling grimly at his yelp. “Casey Jones, I’m fine. Is this why you didn’t want to meet my parents?”

Casey blinked at her owlishly in the dark, and then pulled back, looking guilty. “What? N-no, I did, I swear—”

“Lemme put it another way,” she said, taking pity on him. This kid still took everything so seriously. But, you know. Justified and all. “Is this why you were so nervous about it?” More ninja than the guys, hiding in the one gloomy patch of hallway and trying to be invisible. But he could probably have gotten away with not coming for any number of reasons, so the fact that he was willing to try…

“...a little,” he allowed after a moment. “I mean—I know it’s dumb. Your parents—your dad has never met me in this time. But I kept thinking he’d take one look at me and just kind of… know.” He paused, then ran hand through his hair sheepishly. “Not very rational, I guess.”

April smiled. “Nah. But it still makes sense. And you made it through dinner okay, right?”

“Yeah.” He smiled back. “Your parents are really nice. I can tell the guys like them, too.”

“Don’t remind me. They’re threatening to adopt.”

“...does it work that way in the past?”

She couldn’t help the snort of laughter at his genuine confusion. “Oh, man. We so have to give you a crash course in literally everything, don’t we.”

“Probably,” he said wryly. And paused again, before sighing. “Also, I think they finally worked out we’re not in the living room anymore.”

April blinked at him, and then turned toward the door—and yeah, it had gone suspiciously quiet out there. She put a finger to her lips, grinning at Casey, and reached down for her Journalism and Media Studies text book.

Then she threw it at the door hard and burst into laughter at the girlish shriek that came from the other side. Even Casey gave a soft huff of amusement as the door was flung open a moment later by Donnie, Mikey sprawled on the ground behind him.

“See,” Raph grumbled in the distance, “I told you guys—”

“April O’Neil,” Donnie demanded, “Are you throwing books at us?”

“It’s the outdated thing they gave us in class that you found the newer edition of.”

“In that case, carry on.”

“Don’t carry on,” Mikey wheezed, rolling up to his feet. “Books are scary.” And he dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “Also, Leo is asleeep.”

Oh, whoops. April glanced at the sofa, where Leo’s hood and red stripes could just be seen under the comforter, Raph sitting in front of him and polishing off the last of Leo’s food. She lowered her own voice to something more reasonable. “Then you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”

“Of course we were!” Donnie proclaimed, arms folded. Then winced. “--n’t. Weren’t eavesdropping. Don’t be ridiculous, we were merely concerned that you had run into emotional difficulties of some—” Mikey smacked him in the shoulder. “I mean. Eaten by rats. Because rats. Are a thing in these parts. Zombie rats. They could still be here.”

“Uh huh.” She folded her arms. “Casey?”

He honest to god saluted her with a perfectly straight face. “No rats in the apartment, Commander. Could be a liar or two, though.”

Raph snorted, choking on his mouthful of beef as Donnie gaped at them. Mikey planted his face on Donnie’s shell and gave a muffled giggle. “Someone tell Casey the house rules—”

“We have house rules now?” April wanted to know.

“Uhh, something something don’t be funny while people are eating?” Donnie suggested. “You nearly killed Raph.”

Raph pointed in their general direction but said nothing, still coughing.

“That’s not a house rule. That’s something you came up with to get Leo to shut up and eat.”

“In our defense, his puns are very painful,” Donnie noted. “Also, how long has he been Dumbonardo in your phone?”

“My—” She glanced down to see her phone in his hand, and April snatched it back. “Give me that.”

“I was updating it for you.”

“With what?”

“Answer the question and I’ll answer yours.”

She glared, but after poking at her phone to make sure he hadn’t put Yet Another Firewall on it, April gave a shrug. “Since the invasion.”

“Hmm. Some might say I am required to speak in my beloved brother’s defense, but I merely question why you didn’t do it earlier.”

Raph finally found his voice, still pointing. “Don’t use Raph as an excuse. Also Leo went to sleep, like, five minutes ago—you sure you wanna be roasting him like this?”

“It’s a night for roasts,” Mikey said sagely. “Speaking of, d’you think we can stick a fork in Dad and call him done yet?”

“I don’t know,” Splinter said from behind the couch. “Can you?”

They all yelped and jumped away from him—with the exception of Leo, who let out a small snore, and Casey, who just lifted a hand and waved. Splinter beamed at them and continued picking his teeth clean with a nail which, ew. April made a face. “When did you get in here?”

“A good ninja never reveals his secrets.”

“Oh, so you’re going to tell us everything—”

Splinter’s tail cracked into Donnie’s head, and April cackled, flopping into the armchair as he waved a finger. “The O’Neils will be in shortly! I came to warn you in advance so you can repair all the damage you’ve done.”

“Huh?” Raph’s brow furrowed. “What damage? If you’re talking about the gravy, we dealt with that—”

“There was no gravy,” Donnie said swiftly, and April immediately started scanning the cushions and the carpeting with dread. “It’s all in your imagination.”

“Who cares about gravy?” Splinter hissed, flailing his arms in dramatic outrage. “What about what you’ve done to the walls?”

They stared back at him in disbelief.

“Okay, first of all, that wasn’t us,” Donnie said, voice flat. “Second, I admire your faith that we can somehow put the walls back to rights in the moments we have before the O’Neils descend upon us with whatever imagined wrath you think we deserve—”

April raised a hand, sighing. “In light of Leo being asleep, let me be the one to tell you that was totally Draxum, and the walls were like that before you guys arrived.”

“Draxum, you say?” Splinter said gleefully. “I mean—oh no, your poor walls.”

“Hey, he did it saving April!” Mikey defended.

“Yeah, he’s off the hook for that one,” Raph said, ruffling Mikey’s mask tails. “You can blame him for a lot of things, but—”

“I’m sorry,” Draxum drawled, towering behind Raph suddenly. “What am I being blamed for now?”

They all yelped and scrambled in the opposite direction. Except for Casey, who waved again, and Leo, whose snoring took on a more stubborn sound, and April eyed him suspiciously. Draxum loomed over them all, dressed in a surprisingly nice kimono, its stylishness ruined somewhat by the traces of chocolate staining its sleeve, and he was holding a tray that was…

...gurgling. Huh.

Splinter recovered first. “Everything I can possibly get away with, and surprise ninja entrances are my thing! Get your own!”

Draxum raised an eyebrow. “Surprise ninja entrances? I walked through the door. Perhaps your supposed ninja family needs more training in observation.”

April glanced behind him to see that, yes, the door to the kitchen was open, and Carol was leaning against the frame watching them all. She caught April’s stare and grinned, offering her a wink.

And April relaxed. Whatever her parents had talked about with Splinter, it had turned out okay.

Draxum eyed them a moment longer, then gave a disdainful sniff and set the tray down on the coffee table. It was full of brown, bubbling and uneven sludge, and an attempt to slice it into squares had clearly been made before the pieces melted back together again. They surrounded it and eyed it dubiously.

“Brownies,” Draxum said proudly. “I grew them myself.”

Mikey peered at him. “Don’t you mean baked—”

“I said what I said.”

There was silence as they all stared down at what, honestly, looked a little like a horror story. Like a village buried under a sudden mud slide, maybe. The lumpiness did remind April a little of tiny drowning people, and the fact that it was still bubbling didn’t help.

It did smell delicious, though--

“Who would like to try one first?” Draxum asked. “Carol? As host—”

“Oh,” Carol said cheerfully. “As host, I’ll… find you some plates.” And she was gone with a speediness that April envied. She wondered if she could somehow vanish through the same doorway without being noticed.

“I’ll pass,” Casey said, raising a hand, and he looked sincerely apologetic. “I’m still meant to stick to a simple diet, and I think your brownies are too… rich?”

Nice save. April felt a little bad for Draxum as he looked around with confusion and frowned. “I promise you they taste just fine.”

“Did you follow my recipe?” Mikey asked weakly.

“I improved on your recipe—”

“I’ll go first,” Raph said, face dark and slamming a fist into his open palm. “I’ve eaten weirder.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Donnie was on his phone. “I am not eating anything that looks like a crime scene. Tampering with evidence is a no-no.”

Mikey peered at him. “That’s not what you said at the college labs—”

“You’re all babies.” Raph rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, wincing slightly as the holes at his elbows grew a little bigger. “I bet it’ll taste great and you should all give Barry the benefit of the doubt.”

“Thank you,” Draxum said with a sniff. “I tasted them myself and I am in perfectly good health. I don’t know why all of you are such cowards when it comes to yokai cooking.”

“Raph ain’t no coward.” Yet despite this, he hovered over the tray for a long time, fingers wiggling as if he wasn’t sure what to grab, and April watched the drop of sweat roll down his cheek. Everyone watched him in silence. Except for Donnie, who was humming. April thought it might be a dirge of some kind.

Another green hand reached out and stabbed a finger down into the tray, twirling a pile of warm goop around it, and they jumped. Leo stuck it into his mouth, eyes still half closed.

“Uh—”

“Sensei—”

“Nardo, don’t swallow that—”

“Oh, sweet pineapple on pizza,” Leo breathed, eyes flying open. “This is amazing. Who made this?”

There was dead silence. And then everyone pointed to Draxum. Leo blinked at him, wrinkled his snout, and snuggled back into his pile of comforters. “Oh, that’s right. Well, whatever, can’t win ‘em all. Can I have a plate?”

“Wait,” Donnie said, disbelieving. “You’re serious? You’re not just trying to trick us all into food poisoning?”

“You don’t wanna eat any, Dontron, it’s more for me.”

“Well, not that I doubt you...” Donnie squinted at the plate. “But brownies are meant to have a certain internal consistency. If you can twirl it around your finger I feel they should be classified as something more liquid—”

“Save me from picky eaters,” Draxum said, rolling his eyes. “If you wait a little longer I’m sure they’ll set.”

“They’re meant to set before you serve them, Barry—”

Mikey crossed his arms. “Hey, he tried! And therefore nobody should criticise him!”

“Oh, I think we can find plenty to criticise,” Splinter said, dabbing chocolate goop away from his mouth, and April gave a start and wondered when he’d managed that theft. “But I suppose in this case the brownies are exempt. I hate to say it, but they are delicious. In a strangely muddy kind of way.”

“Oh, nobody died?” Carol had reappeared, holding a stack of small plates. “I brought spoons as well, given their… unique texture. We can call it pudding instead of brownies, right?”

“But I made brownies,” Draxum said sulkily.

“Special recipe yokai brownies,” she said with a dry smile. “Clearly we poor humans don’t recognise quality when we see it.”

“Well, seeing as you brought it up—”

April stomped on his foot. Hard. Which probably hurt her more than it hurt him, given he had hooves and he merely gave her a blank look, but it did shut him up.

“Everyone stop arguing about dessert and eat it already,” Leo said, yawning. “Mrs O, dinner was delicious. I don’t know if I said that before, so…”

That prompted a general round of agreement, and she smiled at them, handing out the plates. “You’re very welcome. Maybe when you’re feeling better, we can do this again, huh?”

Splinter perked up. “You mean like a traditional Sunday dinner?”

“Not every Sunday,” August said, finally entering with a tray of glasses. “I’m not sure our poor apartment can take it. I heard something about gravy?”

“There is no gravy.”

“Oh, glad to hear it. Drinks, anyone?”

A chorus of hands shot up.

“I think there’s enough room for all of us,” Carol said, pointedly flopping down on the ground by April’s chair. “You guys haven’t picked a movie out yet. Anything in particular?”

“Do you have any Jupiter Jim?” Leo said, peering over his comforter.

“Who cares about Jupiter Jerkface.” Splinter huffed. “I happen to know they have the entire collection of Lou Jitsu’s hidden 80s gems—”

“We are not watching Lou Jitsu movies.” Draxum paused between serving up his pudding-slash-brownies onto plates to give him a disdainful look. “We already have to look at you enough today.”

“You only just arrived with faulty brownies, you don’t get a say—”

“My delicious brownies. Even the annoying one thinks so.”

“Don’t drag me into this, I’m horribly injured.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Anyway,” Mikey said determinedly, stuffing Leo’s mouth full of chocolate before he could retort, “That’s one vote for Jupiter Jer—Jim and like minus five for Lou Jitsu—”

“How dare you!” Splinter gasped. “The lack of respect!”

“Lou Jitsu’s ‘hidden 80s gems’ are uncut and not for children,” Carol said firmly. “Don’t scar them.”

“What do you mean—” Donnie paused, and then went a fascinating shade of grey as April hid her face. “Oh. Never mind.”

“I haven’t seen much of the Jupiter Jim franchise, actually,” August said thoughtfully. “Are they any good?”

“Actually,” Casey said, raising a hand with a hesitant smile, “I haven’t seen any. For, uh… obvious reasons..?”

There was silence as everyone stared at the two of them.

Then Leo reached out and smacked Donnie in the arm, making garbled sounds through his mouthful of chocolate sludge, and Donnie sighed. “Translating for my dum-dum brother here, I believe he wants me to say ‘Well, now we have to watch them. From the beginning.’”

“We don’t own any of them, though—”

“That is not a problem, believe me.” Donnie produced his tablet from out of thin air. “April? May I borrow your laptop?”

“You got it, Dee.” She wriggled out of the chair and scrambled past them to her room, cackling as Splinter stopped grumbling and snatched up a plate, perching on the far arm of Leo’s sofa. By the time she returned, dad had pulled in a chair from the kitchen to sit on and the rest were mostly lounging on the floor with what spare cushions they had, and Donnie was perched in an unlikely sprawl across the back of the sofa, setting up the connections they’d need.

“Okay!” Donnie straightened up as she handed him her laptop. “Given there are more than eighty films in the franchise we will clearly start with just the one, so let’s go for one of the more iconic for new viewers and take bets on how long it takes Nardo to fall asleep again—”

“Hey,” Leo protested sleepily. “Rude. I wanna watch people watching JJ.”

“Again, skill issue. I suppose we can ask April to throw more text books—”

“I know who I’m gonna throw ‘em at if I do.”

“—but books are sacred and should not be treated that way. I give him five minutes.”

“Eight,” Carol said mildly.

“Mom!”

“Oh no, Raph is not losin’ another Leo bet. I give him three minutes, look at him, he’s already yawnin’—”

“You’re all jerks.”

“Shush, Leo, or I’ll rig the bet in my favour. You will not like my methods.”

“Dad, Donnie’s threatening me again.”

“Be quiet and go to sleep! Preferably after four minutes.”

“You’re all gonna lose,” Mikey sing-songed. “Leo loves these movies. I’ll give him a full half hour.”

“Thank you, Miguel, but also you’re still a jerk.”

“I love you too.”

“Shh, shh-- the movie’s starting.”

“Shh.”

“Ssh!”

April’s phone buzzed as her dad got the lights, and she blinked down at it.

Donnie: >> I updated your panic button. For all your potential home invasion needs. If we can’t answer, it’ll summon a drone. No more zombies. Share it with parents?

Oh… right. The update. April smiled, and offered him a thumbs up in the dark as the movie started. She’d have to break the news to her parents that they were adopted after all.

Her chair hadn’t been stolen, which was nice of them. She settled back into it, and Carol glanced up at her with a small smile.

“Okay?” April whispered.

“More than,” Carol whispered back.

And...okay. Good. Great. Something in her settled into pure warmth and she curled her knees up to her chest, glancing at her dad. He smiled and gave her a quick nod. Two for two.

It was gonna be more than okay. From here, it was gonna be amazing.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #nekotsuki #no rest for the weary #(adjacent)#this probably has terrible pacing THEY WOULD NOT SHUT UP #super long post

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