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grapejuicestyless · 8 months ago

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Linger Like A Tattoo Kiss

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: After running away from a long term relationship to chase after a summer fling, JJ is left with the pieces of what once was. He can try to get it back, but at the end of the day JJ always fucks up.(Inspired by the folklore love triangle and Normal People.)

“I really hated you for a while.”

Crickets fill the void of silence, a puff of smoke dancing from the old pot beside her, a cigarette squished out in her wilting daffodils. Her hands fist at the hems of her sweater, pulling it impossibly closer to her body, stretching out the stitching and crossing her arms to keep it in place.

“I saw a girl walk by hand in hand with this boy. He had lipstick all over his face, and I felt bad for the girl, I really did, and I had no reason to. They seemed happy enough to have each other, no wandering eyes or anything like that. I guess they just reminded me of us y’know? With the kissing and all that. Figured if we were once like that, who’s to say he won’t go and hurt her too? It’s a real cruel thing to assume, I suppose. To think love is damned just because it was for us.”

“Don’t say that.” She says it so casually that I almost miss the tears in her eyes she blinks at rapidly.

“Well we were.” She laughs bitterly.

“You always did have a wandering eye. Thought it was just people watching because I thought I knew you. It’s probably for the best that I don’t, you and your reckless thinking but you know, strangers don’t kiss like that. Almost makes me feel bad for you that in our entire life together I knew nothing about you, but then I remember what you did and I feel better for it.”

She looks up from her feet which have been crossed underneath her this whole time, shoulders pressed against the old doorframe of her even older house.

“So why are you here, JJ?” She finally asks, cardigan falling from under her arms and her fists pulling down her jean pockets.

“Why’d you answer?”

Nodding slowly, she thinks about it, smiling to herself before scooting over the threshold and swinging the door by its rusting handle.

My hand spreads flat against the chipped yellow paint, an old mark left behind from where the mail box used to be before people stopped sending letters and the metal rusted right off of the wood.

“P-please! Please, Y/n/n.”

Looking at her watching me, I see that she doesn’t hate me like she said she did, not anymore. But she doesn’t love me and I can see that too. It’s like I’m nonexistent to her, neither good nor bad.

“I know I hurt you, believe me I do. I just need you to hear me now so I can explain myself.”

“I’ll never love you again, if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just hope you’ll hear me and understand that I still do.” The screen door that separated the wooden one and the humid outdoors shook the whole frame of the house when it slammed shut again, her bare feet padding across the splintering wood to lead me away from her front steps.

“I haven’t seen you in months, JJ. You had all summer to make me see you and you wait until August is over? Did you enjoy spending July a bachelor too much or did you forget about me when you were six shots deep at the boneyard?” She tries to spin her anger like it’s a joke, but when she turns her head I can still see the twitching of her bottom lip. She pulls the soft flesh between her teeth to keep it still.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” She laughs.

“You were right.” I smile back at her, but it’s strained.

“Would it be wrong of me to blame it on my father?” I ask only half serious, hands stuffed in my front pockets and feet dragging in the dirt next to hers.

“I don’t think it would be wrong. Manipulative, maybe, but not wrong.”

“Well it’s true.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes away from me.

“You don’t believe me?” I ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“I think it can be half true. Maybe, if what you claim is the reason, your father did influence you to do what you did, but he did not make you do it. You did.”

Looking at her, though she sounded like she was smiling, I find that she was not. She even looked distant, detached from the conversation and uninterested at best.

“I don’t need to tell you how he gets, but I owe it to you to explain it to you now.” She stops just short of the old hammock strung from a big oak tree and a weaker dead one. It reminds me of the one back at the chateau, only more well loved and faded than John B’s.

“You don’t owe me shit.” She acts tough but she doesn’t move either and it tells me that she really does want to listen. At least part of her, anyway.

“Usually I don’t believe the shit he says. He’s a bitter drunk, he won’t even remember what he was thinking in an hour. But when he brought up your name, I don’t know, I couldn’t not buy it a little bit.” I scratch my arm and she says nothing.

“I mean, what would he know about young love? Abusive fuck with an absent wife, no love in his bitter old heart for his only blood but damn it beats when he’s beating on me. Guess I saw myself in him, to be honest. I’m always angry, and I’ve gotten better at hiding it but I’m furious just the same. I’m afraid I’ll inherit more than his temper, I’m already halfway to being knee deep in my own shit.”

She rolls her lips between her teeth, breathing out calmly.

“I don’t feel bad for you, JJ. I wish I did, I really do, but I just can’t. You’re a nice boy, you have decent morals and a good group of friends. It’s evident in you, no matter where you get it from. You are a bad person, I won’t lie to you and tell you, you aren’t because you are. Maybe I do feel bad for you then, but not because of what you’ve done but because you’re just now realizing it.”

“Y/n/n.”

“Look, you told me to listen and I have. You told me your half but I don’t owe you any of mine. You broke it, you don’t get the privilege of fixing it.”

When she turns on her heals I can see the dirt caked onto the bottom of her feet and I can feel it too. The same feeling of running wild when you’re still so young and naive to the real world and all its issues. I can feel the dirt between my own toes even if it’s not there.

“I won’t stop trying, you know.” I call out flatly.

“I already told you, I’ll never love you again JJ. I meant it.” She sighs heavily, spinning to walk backwards.

“I don’t need you to love me, I just need you to like me again. And I won’t stop it until we laugh like we used to.”

She doesn’t talk, but I catch her smile. It looks like shes not with the way her face scrunches in the fading sunlight but her lips are too upturned for her to not be.

“You came back.”

“I told you I would.” I smile with half my teeth, a toothpick dangling from my bottom lip and a new cut caked in dried blood evening it out on the top half.

“You were never one to keep your promises.” She talks from the windowsill by the kitchen. I can see her knees just under her chest and her socks scrunched up. She’s got her bottom on the counter and some baby carrots between her fingers drenched in ranch. Crunching away at them and double dipping.

“Maybe all this heartbreak has you losing your mind. I never broke any promises, I can promise you that Y/n/n.”

“You promised to always love me.” My confidence falters, she’s got a winning smirk and her knees beneath her now. Her elbows sit on the wooden frame and her head leans over the window to talk to me more clearly.

“Who said I stopped?”

I had her, I could see it in her eyes that I had her.

Y/n was never the strongest willed person I knew, but she had dignity and lots of loyalty that made her tough to crack. Even then, years of friendship built as a foundation for a long term relationship and a steady heartbeat in her chest made it hard to stop contact all together, even if she knew it was for the best. Which is why I knew I could crack her eventually, just not this quickly.

“Well,” she sighs, throwing her legs off of the counter to rinse her dishes in the sink. Her shorts are wet on the hems from the pooling water she sat on and her shirt is faded from the sun and the quick dry cycle on her dryer, “I guess I’m the one who couldn’t keep that promise then.”

“You don’t love me?”

“J,” she breathes heavy through her nose, “I loved you for so long, even before you knew. God, I think if you weren’t so blind you could have seen it too. You might as well have hung the stars and the moon for me. I loved so hard for so long. What we had, JJ, what we have done. We’ve done so much good for one another.” She sighs, hopping back up into her previous spot and leaning in just a little closer so she can rest her head on the windows frame. Her leg dangles outside of the house and her arms wrap around the knee of the other tightly. She looks smaller like this and I can see the darkness in her eyes clearer now.

“What if I never move on?”

The question lingers in the air like the cigarette smoke that danced in the sky last night.

“I can’t make you feel something you don’t. I guess that’s the scary part. I can keep reminding you of what you did and you’ll never quit, will you?”

I shake my head.

“You know I love you.” My elbows rest against the wooden plank underneath the bend of her knee. If I lean too close my thumb would brush against her skin and she’d surely run.

“And I know it’s hypocritical for me to say when all is done is done, but there is no girl, no person that will ever make me feel the same way as I do for you.”

It falls silent between us and I can see now that her sad smile has turned into a frown, like some guilt has started to eat at her when she has nothing to feel sorry for.

“I’ll stay.” I hum softly, a quiet promise just between us, “And I’ll never leave again. You don’t have to love me like you once did, but I do think you make me a better person.”

“And if I go?” She mumbles back, eyebrows relaxing into her sunken face and slouched posture. She looks tired, a whirlwind of a spring leading into the fall taking all her old charm from her aching bones.

“Then I’ll follow you. Wherever you go, I’ll be there and we’ll be okay.”

She looks at me unsure, unbelieving and she’s smart for it. There’s not a thing I’ve proven to her that shows her I’m reliable, not a bone in my body has the ability to be that for her all the time. But I’d like to be if she’d let me again. And I would fuck it up this time.

“It’s over now, anyway. I guess it’s a stupid question to have asked when there no point to it. Guess I just wanted to know the answer. Make me feel better.”

That was the thing about Y/n, she always spoke her mind full and true no matter what. She doesn’t need to tell me why she’s said something but she always does. Even if she hasn’t done anything like she’s done now. When we were dating I thought it was because she could never stop talking, but looking back on it I guess she was never really loud. Only at parties and when she was scared. She rambles when she’s nervous I’ve realized, and I think it’s funny because it also means she can’t lie because either way the truth will come out.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be.”

Silence fills the space between us again, her body fidgeting at how close we’ve gotten, breaking her unwritten rule of keeping me at an arms length.

I can see her fingertips searching for her old lighter and her pack of cigarettes. She was never really a smoker, only doing what everyone else had done but I assumed she had picked up the habit while I was away. It made me sad in a sense, not because they were being used, but because she had always been that girl in middle school who would keep them away from all of us. Weed? Sure! But she was smarter than me and most of the other kids who were broke and just wanted some relief, so I guess my heart just hurts seeing how she doesn’t really care anymore.

“Do you want one?” I shake my head no.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“Since when do you care?” The paper is between her lips, balancing on the sticky pink lipgloss she’s coated on her lips.

I shrug, looking at her manicured hands, delicate and smooth cupping around the end where the flame lights just below the end of the cigarette to keep the wind from blowing it out.

“Just didn’t read you as someone who would.” She laughs.

“Yeah, I was kind of stuck up when we were younger, huh?”

“I don’t think thats the right word.” She looks at me, taking the stick away from her mouth and tipping her head back to blow the smoke out.

“What word would you use then?” She smiles down at her hand, rubbing her wrists down her legs and her cheek against her knees.

“Careful, probably.”

She sticks out her tongue, groaning and sitting back against the window frame.

“Might as well call me boring then, right? Can see why you would want to run away with someone so much more…exciting.” She rolls her eyes playfully, lifting the cigarette back to her lips.

“How many more times are you going to say it?” My fingers wrap around the stick, lifting it to my own lips and covering the mark her own had made before putting it out against the back of my hand.

“Me saying it less won’t make it any less true.”

Maybe a smart ass would be the right word to call her. Heartbreak be damned, she was always quick on her tongue only now she had motivation to shoot for the kill.

“Have a nice night, JJ.” Her legs swing over to the cool counter tops where she scoots herself down and back onto the floor. I can see she’s wearing a baby blue bra when she bends over to shut the window, not that I was looking, and she smiles unenthusiastically until she’s turned the corner out of my sight.

“You’d think after a month of this you’d be bored.” She laughs, mittens covering her fingers and a soft cardigan over her heavy sweatshirt. Her nose is numbing from the cold and the grass is crunching underneath the winter frost.

“I could never be bored of you, Y/n/n.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but bites her tongue with a gentle smile. Her cheeks glow and her eyes avoid looking into mine. The plants by her feet are long gone, only weeds that have frozen left behind among the cigarette stubs from all of our small talk by her windows and on her porch. Even with the constant sweeping, we’ve both picked up on the habit and we burn through them each meeting.

“Well, I’m not so sure about that.” She laughs more to herself than to me, hands crossed under her arms and shoulder pressed against the door.

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know, I suppose I’m just not all that interesting of a person. Not much about me that makes me special.”

Theres a bitter windchill that weaves its way between us and a relentless shiver that travels up my spine and down to my fingertips.

“Well I think you’re plenty interesting.” I smile proudly, almost foolishly at her and wait for her reaction.

She only hums with a puff through her nose and nods, and when her eyes flicker back up to mine they seem a little bit more focused in on me than before.

“I think you’re very pretty too, by the way.”

She laughs again, holding her index under her nose and crinkling her eyes.

“Don’t.” She braces herself further into the doorway and lulls her head back for a moment before coming back.

“Well it’s true!”

“I would hope so, I mean we were together for, how long?”

I fake offense that she doesn’t have the days counted down like I do. Years to months to days to hours to seconds, I have it all calculated in my head.

“You’re relentless, do you know that JJ?”

“I’ve been told a few times, yes.” It’s my turn to laugh, shifting from the heals of my feet to the balls of my toes. I shove my hands deep into my pockets and pray she doesn’t see the blue of my lips and send me home.

It goes quiet for a brief moment, our breathing pausing in our throats and the cold air releasing foggy puffs through the parts of our lips. It doesn’t get as cold as it would up in New England here, but the frost still nips away at the thin skin I’ve grown and bites at the tips of my fingers and the bottoms of my toes.

“How’s Pope doing?” Her breathing has gone heavy again.

I know she’s specifically asked for Pope because he’s the only one who truly saw my faults. John B and Sarah far too woven into their own web of unfaithfulness and Kiara too unbothered to care. Pope was always the most sensible out of us, so when I came home after nearly half a decade unfazed and claiming to have ended things without solid grounds to stand on, he let me have it. In his dad’s truck, specifically.

Driving downtown to the rich side of the island with bags of groceries slung over each shoulder and the bumps in the road shaking the plastic outrageously loud. I told him first, and part of me knew he would see my mistakes and call them out, but I hadn’t and I didn’t want to. I’d never seen him so mad, threatening to pull over if I didn’t make things right.

You can’t force a person to love someone forever, and you can’t force a person to change their behavior if they can’t see it’s broken. Pope couldn’t have done anything to make me go back. If I had, I would have faced her teary eyes and sad smile telling me that she was alright as long as I was well. She believed me when I said we were better for it, and sometimes I wished that I had picked a girl who could fight.

“He’s well. His dad too, actually. Started making deliveries to the far side of the island to make more money. By this time next year hopefully he’ll be on his way to college.”

“Well, he always was the smart one.”

She smiles underneath her mitten clad hand, looking at her feet.

“We all got lucky, you know? Having someone like him around. It’ll be weird without him around so often anymore.” My thumbs press harder into the bottoms of my pockets to savor the warmth radiating from my thighs.

“I like Pope, he always was my favorite.”

I nod, smiling into the silence again.

“Is he still your best friend, then?” She asks plainly, not really looking for much of an answer.

“No.”

She cocks her head, leaning all of her weight into the wooden door frame.

“Why’s that then? Has John B finally made you lose your mind?”

She never really did like John B. He was loyal and she respected him for it, but he was just like me. He was good but he wasn’t a good person.

“No.” I answer again, trying to hide my growing smile, “You are.”

“That’s funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

She laughs through her nose.

“Yeah well, we barely talk so, I don’t think I can be your best friend.”

“Well you are.”

“Well then thats sad.” She looks at me sympathetically, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout.

“I don’t get to do this with anyone else.”

“Do what?”

“This.” I motion with my hands. “Just sit and talk, even if it’s only for a moment. I guess I just feel better around you, I can’t explain it.”

She’s nodding her head thoughtfully at my words, pulling her mittens off and holding them in one hand carefully.

“JJ.”

I hum, looking up from where I’ve began to stare a hole into my boots.

“You should come in.”

“Okay.”

It’s been too long since I’ve smelled the warmth of the inside of her home. Soft vanilla mixed with the citrus and salt that can only be found in places surrounded by ocean. Yet, I can’t find this smell in any other place. Her perfume lingers beneath the surface of the smell but I can’t quite recall the name of it anymore. It drives me crazy when everything smells like her and I go mad wondering why I would have chased after another girl when I already had her.

“Sorry for the mess.” Her house is small, maybe just a bit smaller than mine but it’s nicer than mine.

She kicks a blanket that has fallen off of the arm of her plush couch into the corner, and I pick it up.

“No, it’s perfect.”

She laughs, opening the door to her room and situating herself underneath her worn in white bed sheets. I hesitate, unsure if she’s welcoming me in with her, though I wouldn’t mind just laying on the floor. She has this soft carpet by the side of her bed that would be comfortable enough for a short time. But to my surprise she does open the bedsheets, scooting over and letting me sit underneath the thick layers.

“I still don’t forgive you, by the way.” She mumbles as I climb in beside her, crossing her arms to prove something.

“I don’t expect you to.” I smile at her, and I catch her vaguely smiling back.

Sitting waist pressed to waist, the heavy comforter weighed down by her stack of blankets piled on top shifts into a tent as she crosses her legs. She pulls it up to her chest so she can hold it under her arms and I wonder how she’s not hot even in the winter chill. I can feel my own sweat sticking to my skin underneath my clothes. Her lighter flickers beside me, a ball of smoke tumbling past her lips before she passes it to me. She lights another for herself.

I laugh at a thought I have, but it comes out stiffed with the paper caught in my mouth.

“I bet you’d pretend not to know me if we bumped into each other.”

The smoke from the blunt I dangled between my fingers disperses into the air leaving a faint smell of weed behind in its wake. I can feel it on my teeth too when I smile.

She doesn’t say anything, staring at me with a gentle smile and serious eyes. Her watchful expression makes me realize how depressing my words were and how true they could be. I swallow, looking down at where the blankets have pooled in my lap.

“Sorry.”

“I would never pretend to not know you, JJ.” She looks at me honest.

“I don’t deserve that.” I confess to no one in particular. I just say it out loud as it comes to my mind and let the reality behind it sink in like a knife to the heart.

“You did bad things.” She swallows, “But you still stuck around after. You promised to make it right and you are. I guess what you’ve done doesn’t seem so bad to me now, even if it is, is what I’m trying to say. Compared to most people, you were actually pretty nice to me.” She smiles sadly and all I want to do is to wrap her in my arms and press soft kisses along the top of her head, but it’s no longer my place to do that and I’ve made it so.

“I wish it were different.”

“How?” She looks at me pitifully, water collecting on her lower lashes. I’m not sure where she’s put the burning paper, if it died between her manicured fingers or if she rubbed it out on one of the books beside her bed, but it’s no longer in her hands when her arms fall heavy against her duvet in defeat.

“I wish we never dated, at least not so soon.” It’s my turn to swallow now. “We would have been better for it. If we had grown up a little first.”

She shakes her head, looking back down at her covered lap.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“I think we’d grow, but not by much. Growth doesn’t fully change a person and by facing adulthood I don’t think it would have made us end any differently. At the end of the day I’ll still turn to my cigarettes and you’ll still be drunk in the boneyard talking to some pretty tourist.”

“Well I like to think so.”

“And I think you’re naive for it.”

By now the smoke has dwindled down to fog around the room and the old blunt has died out between my index and my thumb.

“I would have done it differently.”

She hums, tell me more, it says.

“I would have bought you flowers. Not only on the special days but just because I love you. Wouldn’t need a reason to show it to you and I wouldn’t be stupid enough to run away from you either.”

I could list everything I could have done better for her endlessly but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s been done.

“We’re still so young, it’s hard to know where things start to go wrong.” She tries to reason, and our eyes avoid the others wearily.

Neither of us talk, listening to the whistling wind banging on the large windows and feeling the faint chill seeping through the walls.

“I don’t drink anymore.” She looks at me.

“Good for you.”

“I do stupid things when I get drunk, I get sloppy I suppose. Talk to people I shouldn’t, hate the wrong people and make everyone feel bad. I don’t really like that feeling. I don’t like being a bad person.” I confess, looking at her and remembering how she’s confirmed my deepest fears without knowing.

“You can be intense but eventually you mellow out and you’re okay again.” She shrugs.

“I know, and I know everybody knows I don’t mean it but if I can prevent it I will.”

She nods again, eyebrows furrowing and her teeth catching her bottom lip. She looks to me with a serious expression.

“What about you. Would you love me if you met me now?” She asks.

“I’ll always love you.”

“But if you didn’t know me, if you didn’t love me. If I was just some girl you’d seen on the beach or in town. Would you be able to love me then?”

“Eventually, yes.” I admit. “I like to think that in some fucked up way you were made for me.”

She smiles at that, picking at her nails shyly.

“Yeah?” She looks up at me with shy eyes.

“Yeah.”

The grass under my feet is soggy, but the warm sun beating down on our shoulders slowly dries it and the dripping leaves above us too. It wasn’t a long winter, but it never really is here. Spring had rolled around just a few months ago with endless showers and relentless sunshine following behind it. Pollen dances in the air in a heavy dusting and the bees have begun picking out the prettiest flowers and the early summer air hangs humid around us.

“You disappeared for a while.” Her hands fold underneath her elbows. She’s swapped out her heavy cardigans for graphic baby tees and faded jeans. Her hair is lighter now than it was in the winter, and she has more freckles on her face.

“It’s only been a few weeks.” She looks at me and I swear I can’t read her so I clear my throat.

“I picked up some shifts with Pope. Trying to save up some money so I can finally do something with myself I guess. You know, I was never really the smartest with my money.” She laughs.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be annoying. Just…missed you is all.” She smiles up at me with a look I haven’t seen in some time.

“You could never be annoying.”

“It’s funny because I was over here thinking that you probably hate me. It’s kind of pathetic because you weren’t really gone for long, but you’re really the only person who still talks to me.”

She leans back against the old wood of her house, her face finding shade underneath the small overhang of her porch.

“I never hated you. I could never hate you. I think you’re really awesome.” I confess and it makes me feel a rush when I say it.

Y/n swallows hard and I can see her smile falter when she looks back up.

“Well…I like you.”

“I like you too.”

She smiles at me and I can’t tell if it’s the birth of exclusivity or friendship blossoming between us.

“I wish I could read your mind.” She mumbles out, stepping closer.

“Why?”

“You’re confusing.”

“Well, I don’t think I am. Maybe you’re confusing yourself.”

“No, it’s definitely you.” She smiles.

“I saw Kiara last week, while you were away. I thought about asking about you but then I figured it might have been weird because it wasn’t really my business. But then I noticed she was wearing my old shirt. I knew it was mine because I used to leave it at your house when we would fall asleep before I could crawl out the window. I never took it back and she was wearing it.” She breathed through her nose, “I guess I was just confused why you kept it. I mean, we agreed that we were better for it, you were so convinced that if we saw other people we would be so much happier. You saw another girl all summer, so I guess it just confused me why you wouldn’t have tossed it.”

“Maybe I wanted an excuse to see you again.”

“See, you’re confusing.”

“I don’t get your point.”

She huffs, hanging her shoulders and rolling her eyes.

“Someone who falls in love with someone else doesn’t keep their ex girlfriend’s shirt, they don’t worry about the next time they’ll run into each other.”

“Maybe I was just being a good friend.” I shrug, smiling as I stuff my hands into my pockets.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what!” I throw my arms up playfully and I can see how hard she’s fighting against a smile.

“Well were you? Being a good friend, that is?”

I shrug.

“Maybe, I’m not sure. I mean, I guess I never really thought about throwing it out because I was so used to you being there. You never said you wanted it back so, I never asked you. It’s funny too because when Kiara found it, she told me the same thing. She said it was stupid of me to keep something that wasn’t mine and took it. But I guess she didn’t have the heart to give it back to you either.” I find myself rambling.

“What if I wanted it back now?”

“Well do you?”

She shakes her head and all of our words seem to die on our tongues.

“She never stayed the night, by the way.”

“What?”

“The girl, the one I saw this summer.”

“Oh.” I see her cringing at the mere mention of the girl, Amanda, I think was her name but the whole summer was a drunken blur and the only times I ever saw her was after I was six shots deep and in need of a distraction.

After a five day bender and the hard reality of sobriety I came to my senses, she was nothing more than sex. Still, explaining that to Y/n wouldn’t have helped my case. It would have only made both of us feel bad. I left her for another girl who I didn’t even really like and nobody knew why.

“I don’t think it’s important, but I thought you’d want to know.”

“I’m not mad anymore, about her.”

“Well are you still hurt?” She looks at me through her lashes, index fingers picking at the skin around her thumbs.

“Sorry, stupid question.”

“It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

“But I still hurt you?”

“JJ.” She sighs, hands finding their way around her stomach.

“I still feel like kicking myself every time I think about it. You were always so good to me, you are. You let me into your house and you give me all these chances even after I fucked it all up. I don’t know why I did it, and I hate myself for it everyday.”

It goes silent for what feels like the millionth time today.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” She looks at me carefully, fingers pulling at the fabric around her waist like it’s suffocating her.

“I don’t expect you to say anything.”

She nods, “Okay.”

“Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?”

Theres a pause, and her eyes move back like she’s thinking really hard for her answer.

“I already have.”

Her words don’t give me the clarity I hoped they would. In fact, they make me feel worse. Even after I hurt her, left her alone for something not even half as good. I played two girls in the span of three months and I paid little to no consequences. She let me show her how sorry I was when she shouldn’t have and now all I can picture is her sorry face when I told her it was over for the first time.

“Do you think I’m naive for it?” She asks quietly.

“For forgiving me?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “For falling in love with you again.” I don’t know how to answer her when she consistently leaves me speechless.

“I don’t know.” I look her, hoping to find an answer. “How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know, thats my issue. I can look back on something and think I know what I felt at the time but, I don’t know. When it’s actually happening, I guess I have no idea how I feel or how to think.”

“Then how do you know you love me?”

“I don’t know. I never have a clue. I guess I just feel different around you than most people. But it’s not as obvious as other people make it sound, it’s the little things.” She confesses.

“I can tell you how I feel, if that would help.”

“Okay.” She nods.

I take a second to gather what I have to say in an effort to avoid some sort of word vomit from spewing out, but it’s to no avail.

“I thought you were shy when I first met you. Normally for me, I wouldn’t stick around for long because even with talkative people I find myself annoying. I hate the sound of my voice after some time. I figured I’d grow tired of my own voice quickly with you.”

Y/n looks at me, trying to figure me out.

“But you’re really not all that shy, you’re just careful. You think before you speak and maybe that’s why you don’t do a lot of it. Because you know what and when to say things and what sounds bad before you say it. You never know how you feel, but you know what you think and I think thats twice as important. Our conversations were different because of that. I could talk for hours and because I was talking to you I never focused on the sound of my voice or how tired I was of hearing it, I only thought of you. I guess that’s the scary part of it all, falling in love, that is. You don’t know you’ve done it until you try to think of something else and you realize you haven’t even tried to think of anything else without everything leading back to that one person.”

“That’s kind of scary to think about.” She laughs half heartedly.

“Because it is. That’s the fucked up thing about it all, nobody tells you that falling in love is more of developing an obsession to another person. It’s wanting to be around them all the time and praying every second you’re away from them that they’ll come around again soon. It’s the inability to let go after you swore to yourself you were done and it’s why I keep coming back to you.”

Theres a pause. I don’t realize how red my face has gotten until I stop talking.

“I think we’re probably just sick.” She smiles with her teeth, pushing my shoulder back to walk past me. We’ve left her front lawn so many times before. I’ve chased her across her lawn and rolled with her in the weeds, but I’ve grown so used to the faint glowing of her front porch lights and the flickering of the fairy lights strung across the door that it always catches me off guard when she moves away from the doorway.

“I think you’re probably right.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t be together, then. Maybe you were right. We were better for it.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s true.”

“How could you not? You said it so you must believe in it.”

Shes playing with me and she knows it. Even though Y/n claims she’s hurting less and less the more we open up, I can tell theres still a wound bleeding somewhere deep, someplace within her that likes to see me frantic.

“Maybe I did then, but I don’t now.”

“Why?”

“Well, then you were just my girlfriend.”

“And I’m your ex now, so I guess it’s probably worse.”

It’s my turn to laugh now.

“No. I think it’s different now because I’m not only in love with you, but I love you.” I feel like I’m seven again, running around the blacktop and chasing around Y/n and tugging her by her pigtails. I feel like I’ve just confessed my school crush to her and it’s thrilling but horrifying all at once.

“Do you love me enough to be honest with me?” She smiles wider.

“I love you enough to do just about anything for you.”

“Did you ever see me in her?”

Somehow every time it gets good I am reminded of my past. It’s my karma. I’ve hurt her so it only makes sense for her to want to know everything before I earn her heart again.

“All the time.”

For the first time in forever, she steps closer, her hands resting on my waist gently and her breathing shallow against my neck.

“How?” Our noses practically touch when I look down at her.

“She was quiet, careful. She was never as smart as you but if I was drunk enough I could have made up anything. You guys would have been best friends, I’m convinced, if it were a different lifetime. Same jokes, same hobbies. The only difference was her heart.”

I find my hands threading themselves between the stray hairs by her neck, and I can see how her eyes relax the closer I inch towards her.

“You were much softer than she was, and I realized then that I only really ever wanted her because she reminded me so much of you. And it’s weird because I already had you.”

For a second I think she’s going to kiss me, and for a second I know she thinks so too. But her hands slip away from mine and her head ducks beneath my hands to unthread them from her hair to get away. She’s clearing her throat and mumbling soft apologies as she makes her way back up to the porch.

I feel angry, and I know it’s not my right to. I had her and I lost her through my own actions. I have no one else to blame. Yet, I find myself feeling vulnerable in a way I’ve never felt it before. It makes me feel sick knowing how close we got to fixing things and how quickly it was stripped away. I feel useless, and I figure it must be how Y/n felt when I left her and told her it was for the best.

“So that’s it then? What, we just tell each other we love each other and we pretend it never happened?”

“JJ, please.”

I can tell shes tired, conflicted over her own actions, but I can’t wait any longer to figure it out.

“I know it’s my fault but I’m trying to fix it, fix us! I miss you, more than anything and I can’t talk to anyone like I talk to you. I don’t know what else to say, Y/n. I love you, I love you so much it drives me crazy and I fucking miss what we had.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“JJ, I told you when you first came around. You knew this. I won’t fight for us, I can’t do that again.”

“So then why do you let me stick around?”

“Someone ought to hold you to your words. If you’re going to stay, then stay but I won’t fight for you if you leave.”

“Well I wish you would.” I can feel myself growing angry. I wish I didn’t get that from my father, his temper. I wish I was more like Y/n, more level headed and calm. But I was born angry and I am because I remember the way I ended things and I remember how quickly she accepted it.

“You lost that privilege when you left me for her.”

“Don’t throw that at me, we both know you couldn’t even argue with me then!”

“How could I, JJ? You’d made up your mind, why should I stick around if you’ve gotten eyes for someone else?” Her throat is scratchy, she doesn’t even have to look at me for me to know she’s trying not to cry. I want to beg her not to, because I know I won’t be able to withstand her wet doe eyes, but I’ve done it to myself.

“You know that’s not what happened, I told you what happened!” I feel the way we’re both growing tired. We get good and we fall apart.

“If you want to talk, we can talk but I can’t give you what you want. I can’t fight for someone who’s not even mine.”

“So then you want to see other people?”

“I never said that.”

“Well you implied it.”

She doesn’t say anything, shoulders shaking over the old railings of her porch. Her breathing is heavy but she doesn’t speak.

“So I guess if you want to see other people, then we should see other people.”

��Do what you want JJ, but just don’t come back here.”

She doesn’t mean it, we both know she doesn’t. She told me months ago she would never love me again, and though she has grown to find room in her heart for me, she’ll never let me see her vulnerable again.

I can feel the dirt coating my socks as it kicks up behind me. I’m not walking fast, but it feels like it with how dizzy I’m getting. Her door shuts with a slam and I swear I can hear a faint cry echo through her kitchen. But I’ll never know because I was too careless to try and knock.

It’s a different girl every time, but they’re all the same. John B gave me shit for it last summer when it first ended. I claimed to be chasing something better but they were all just different versions of the same girl.

There was always something off, the hair, the smile, the laugh. But if I drank enough and squinted hard enough I could almost see Y/n again and it would help convince myself that I was fine with her absence.

I find the fog of the early summer bonfires to be suffocating now, even with the solo cup in my hand and consistent pats on my back from classmates and old friends. I’ve flirted with half the island by now, I’m sure of it, and I probably look a mess but the tourist in front of me doesn’t seem to mind.

She looks like my Y/n too, they both like the same music. I wonder if I’ll accidentally call her the wrong name later tonight.

I told Y/n I stopped drinking, but I never promised it to her. So I suppose that’s how I ended up back where I started, trying to drown out my own issues with a warm beverage and a random girl.

I haven’t really been listening to what she has to say, I can only wonder what Y/n would think about her and if she would approve. It makes me feel sick knowing how many people I hurt in the process of healing, and I wonder if you can even consider it healing at this point.

“JJ!” A soft voice breaks through a loud crowd, dashing through the center of a bonfire to find me hanging back along the outskirts.

The girl in front of me shoots both of us a dirty look and walks away without saying a word.

“Y/n?” My vision is blurry and I wonder if it’s really her or if I’ve drank far too much.

“You’re drunk.”

“What?” The cup in my hand finds its way into the hot sand and over the intense stench of alcohol I can smell the welcoming scent of her perfume.

“Do you take me as a joke?” Her eyes are watering, shaky fingers wrapped around my wrists. I can see the faint flickering of the bonfire illuminating the side of her face. She looks so pretty like this, so tired.

“What the fuck are you on about, Y/n?”

“I let you into my home, into my bed; my bed!” She restlessly pokes her finger into her chest, clammy hands gripping onto my skin harder than ever.

“Well I didn’t make you!”

“You didn’t make it easy either!” She shoots daggers in my direction, stray looks from passersby’s tell us to quiet down.

“Yeah whatever.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She all but begs.

“You could have any boyfriend you want, you know. Boy’s are consistently falling in love with you, from what I’ve heard.” I slur, my right foot falling in front of my left and still Y/n holds me in place.

“Stop that, stop it now JJ I don’t like it.” She pleads through her gritted teeth.

“Right.” I roll my eyes.

“You don’t hate me. You told me so when I asked you, you even told me you liked me so stop being mean.”

“Maybe I’m just immune to you.” I try and joke through foggy memories and a sloppy smile, “Because I knew you before, in school when you still wore pigtails.”

“Right, when I was ugly and pathetic? You obviously don’t know me now JJ if you’re acting this way.” I ignore her insults, I couldn’t even process them if I tried.

“No, you were never ugly or pathetic.”

She looked at me, confused, not sure where this fight is leading us and unsure if we’d ever bounce back from it. Even sober our conversation is unclear, weaving between different topics and creating sore spots that’ll surely kill us soon.

“I know I’d be a shit boyfriend if I were yours. I’d rather anyone else, even the guys on figure eight who spit on me when I walk by.”

“JJ, you’re drunk, let me take you home, we can figure it all out soon.” My hands rip themselves from her grip, stumbling back into the sand.

“Why do you care so much JJ? Let me take you home, we can talk in the morning.”

“Because I’m selfish and even though I know you’d be happier without me I can’t even stand the thought of you being happy with anyone else but me.” Looking at my feet, I feel the tears falling from my eyes onto my feet buried in the sand. “Y/n I need to know if you love me or not.”

Neither of us can speak, and it feels like everyone around us can’t seem to find the words to explain out situation either.

“JJ.” She pleads softly.

“I probably should have mentioned this before, but I was seeing someone.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

Y/n doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even breathe, and the quiet is so loud that I can’t help the drunken rambling that leaves my mouth. “That girl, I can’t remember her name now, but the one I had last summer, I saw her up until the fall. I asked her out too. Should have mentioned that before but then again, I feel like you hardly ever let me in anymore so.” I shrug, and because of the way my eyes so heavily avoided her’s I almost missed the way she looked at me like I was poison.

“I called her by your name, that’s why she said no.”

The world seems to fall quiet around us, stray smoke from the nearby fire weaving between us and sticking in our hair and on our clothes.

“Why are you telling me this? Is it because you’re trying to be such a good friend, is that it, JJ?”

“No—yes, I don’t know, I just needed to tell you.”

Her sniffles are deafening, I feel sicker than before hearing her fighting her tears.

“Oh god, oh my god!” Her hands cover her face, pulling down until her hands clasp tightly over her quivering mouth.

“I’m sorry, I want to fix things, I thought if I told you, you would like me better!” I try to rationalize but she only shakes her head.

“I thought it would be different, you know? I really did believe you when you said we were better for it, having taken a break to grow and learn. But I’m just as naive as I was when I was yours and I’m just as stupid for taking you back!” She spits it like venom, still backing away.

“You said it yourself, I’m not a good person.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t believe you could be one.”

It’s quiet again between us, and her touch on my skin lingers like a tattooed kiss, her words replaying in my mind.

Y/n believed we could work it out, but she was smarter than I was and more careful too. She knew better than to chase after something that was never meant to work out.

“I do love you, I really do. What we had, what we have done. We’ve done so much good for one another.”

“No, no.” I try to follow her, but my feet fail me. I fan barely walk straight, let alone chase her.

“You know I love you, Y/n, you have to. I’m never going to feel the same way I feel for you for anybody else.”

She looks at me and it tells me everything I need to know.

I can promise her all my love and all my heart but it’ll never make us right, not ever again.

When she leaves, it’s quietly, the frame of her body losing its color in the darkness of the early summer night. It reminds me a lot of how this all started, and I feel sick.

I could stay as long as I wanted, but the truth was my devotion did not matter anymore, because she was always destined to go.

#jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #jjmaybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jjmaybankangst

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imagionationstation · 4 months ago

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How often DOES Donnie get hugged? I'm curious now...

Well gosh diddly darn NOW I’M CURIOUS TOO!

*pulls out folder and cues up 2012tmnt episodes*

I wanted to start outlining photos but there’s a photo limit.

So you get an analysis instead:

Okay, so according to my info, he most commonly receives hugs from April. Somehow, despite fans insisting that they’re only friends and she’s only confused bc stressors in her life and she’s ‘not romantically interested in him,’ she also never has any trouble running into his arms?? Like no matter who’s around??

Sad/happy/relieved/any emotion = hug/kiss the Tello??

No wonder this boy child is confused. She’s the one doing all the initiating when it comes to anything physical about their relationship.

Anyway, we’re not actually here to talk about the confused teens-

And when we step past that, the next person who is free with his hugs is definitely Mikey. Of course, he’s free with hugs with everyone, but at least he tries to keep things fair between brothers. Anything from a gentle side-hug to forcefully yanking a brother off the ground. His bear hugs are not to be underestimated.

Most of the time, Donnie doesn’t seem to mind the hugs. He actually seems to appreciate the embraces, or tolerate them fondly. It’s not like he doesn’t hug back either. He just seems more likely to hug when it’s bred off impulse, like a fear embrace when panicking.

And it’s not just a him, or a Mikey thing. The brothers all have this impulse to huddle together or grab one another from time to time.

Unfortunately for the toxic side of the fandom, the next person who shares the most hugs with him would actually be Splinter.

Sure, it mainly consists of his sons hugging him, but he’s not a very huggy person. And a hug isn’t defined by who initiates. A hug is defined by the fact that both people willingly participate in a show of affection. Splinter may not always initiate, but he always accepts.

In case there’s even a sliver of conviction that I’m merely being biased. Nah, man. My statements are built upon TRUTHS.

Look at all of these. Rat man loves his kids. 👆

I was only able to find a few hug moments between him and his older brothers. They’re usually group hug moments-

But there are also those two. One initiated by his older brothers (who were under the impression that it was what their little brother wanted in their dying moments AH 🥺) and the other was purely his doing.

He doesn’t really share too many hugs from his older brothers 🤔.

The closes thing that I’ve found is an arm slung around his shoulder, but even those fluffy moments are pretty sparse.

(Discussion over the lack of hugs is OVER HERE.)

We must also discuss the Fugitoid hugs. There’s only one shown, but I think Donnie appreciated it. That robo man was a great mentor, but I’m pretty sure he forgot he’s made of metal and Donnie has lungs.

Dude doesn’t know his own strength.

There’s also… This.

But, uhm. We don’t talk about this.

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officialbruciewayne · 3 months ago

Text

The thing that was the most expensive in Bruce's life, that had cost him the most dearly was control. He needed it. Needed it worse than breathing- each exhale cutting sharper - needed it like it could pull apart the strands of a life. It was the cost of staring at Joe Chill's dead body. It was the cost of disappearing from Gotham overnight. It was the cost he had impressed most on his children.

What we feel in here- Bruce's heart was a bat trapped in a cage, shrieking and flashing wings, fast-paced -he touched a hand over his chest. What we feel in here, we don't take out into Gotham. We don't give it to other people. We don't hurt. If we hurt, we don't, we don't.

Selina was leaving. He'd asked her to go. He'd told her he didn't love her. Couldn't love her. Not the way she wanted. Not the way he wanted.

Another failed relationship, Bruce concluded. Something the children would come to their own conclusion when they saw that he'd left her crying alone in the drawing room. But for now, he'd shelter them as best he could from Bruce's latest pearl in a necklace of mistakes.

He wasn't exactly the picture of mental health; and deep pain came out heavy, blunted and wishing it had a gun to shoot out Joseph Chill's brains. That was the monster not allowed in Gotham. And it was not allowed in the Cave, and certainly not around his children.

Breathing too fast, shoulders rising and falling, Bruce locked himself in his room. And then because that would never keep them out, shouldered his wardrobe- a heavy, old, expensive thing -until it was in front of the door. He couldn't put the security shields down on the windows without signalling the cave, but he could lock and secure them with one of Tim's expanding bo staffs.

That might keep the kids from worrying.

Or at least from getting in.

Long enough for Bruce to suddenly, control ripping out between his teeth with a roar of grief, lunge for the nearest object- a mirror over the desk. He picked it up, ribs singing with sore pain, and threw it across his room.

Alone.

Alone. Alley.

There was no method to it. Nothing meticulous. Just taking apart the room piece by piece, snarling and sobbing and keening.

Alone. Blood. He'd done everything- done anything- except be honest. Admit to being broken- wood splinters jammed in the heel of his hand, and he snarled aloud. Taking only a moment to bite them out with his teeth, before resuming the brutish, unexamined punching of his own things.

Wanted to exhaust himself. Wanted to curl up in the wreckage, panting and coated in sweat, no longer needing control. Remembering how even just a week ago, he had been so frantically desperate not to be alone, he had offered his body up like an apology.

How saying the words had been beyond apology: what was he thinking. He didn't need authenticity, didn't need to be a person, didn't need to be- words like aromantic, words like asexual, words like I can't love anything, I can't have what my parents had, is this how I was made or what I was made?

Exhaustion didn't come, only destruction. Only Bruce Wayne throwing a violent tantrum after a break-up he should have seen coming. Only trying to break anything but someone else. Knuckles bleeding, but numb as a boy in blood, Bruce just- he gave up. Dropped down onto the floor of his room. Knelt in the wake of his own faults and dropped his head into his hands.

G-d he hated himself.

#ooc. 'how to not worry the kids?' 'lock myself in a room and cry and scream where they can't see or hear it' '-cue worrying noises'#ooc. reminder that bruce wayne's default emotional outlet is violence #ooc. he works very hard to control it #ooc. but this isn't something his kids should be handling so no kid interactions here please #ooc. they'd notice but it's not their job #ooc. but if they happen to give their dad a hug later that is probably smart #t: i'm the problem

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vivacissimx · 8 months ago

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Theon's choice not to visit Alannys was not a choice

Cannot believe it took this long for me to get around to this meta—also, feel free to read my whole spiel about Theon's father figures in Ned, Balon, and Roose here, because it does inform my view.

OK, Alannys Harlaw hours.

The conception of Theon's motivations in the situation where he does not go to see his mother when he returns to the Islands is a bit harsh on Theon. It ignores that Theon has not been avoiding Alannys all these years: he has been kept from her. Theon's access to her has always been controlled by the NedBalons in his life.

I want to get into the idea that this is not happenstance. That Theon's father figures control his access to his mother, which is not even a novel concept in ASOIAF. Jon Snow, who is Theon's foil, also has access to his mother restricted by—woah! Ned Stark as well!! (And both Jon and Theon are expected to be grateful for this too.)

Theon's homecoming to Pyke does not result in him rushing triumphant as the prodigal son into his loving mother's arms because in fact Alannys is not even on Pyke (though Theon thought she would be). Nope, it's Theon's suspicious, resentful, and yes "homophobic" uncle as well as father who Theon meets. From here it is just assumed that Theon has perfect access to Alannys, and that him not hopskipping over to Harlaw is purely his preference. (Are you catching on to the idea that I disagree with this, yet?)

Getting into Theon as a character & how he acts under suspicious/mistrustful eyes:

As a boy, he had lived in fear of Stark's stern face and great dark sword. His wife was, if anything, even more distant and suspicious. [ACOK, Theon I]

“What I am about to tell you must not leave this room,” she told them. “I want your oaths on that. If even part of what I suspect is true, Ned and my girls have ridden into deadly danger, and a word in the wrong ears could mean their lives.” “Lord Eddard is a second father to me,” said Theon Greyjoy. “I do so swear.” [AGOT, Catelyn III]

Ned turned back to his wife. “Once you are home, send word to Helman Tallhart and Galbart Glover under my seal. They are to raise a hundred bowmen each and fortify Moat Cailin. Two hundred determined archers can hold the Neck against an army. Instruct Lord Manderly that he is to strengthen and repair all his defenses at WhiteHarbor, and see that they are well manned. And from this day on, I want a careful watch kept over Theon Greyjoy. If there is war, we shall have sore need of his father’s fleet.” [AGOT, Eddard IV]

Theon knows he is not trusted in Winterfell. Catelyn including Theon in this circle of ooh secrets is mostly due to the fact that Robb physically brought him & also because she knows that Theon does not really even have the ability to betray her on this front. He definitely knows that. Ned does not have a paternal relationship with Theon & does not perceive himself as Theon's father any more than Theon believes he is Ned's son (in the manner that Robb or Bran or even Jon is), so why does Theon lie here?

HE IS OVERPERFORMING HIS COMMITMENT TO THE PATRIARCH FIGURE IN WHOSE HANDS HIS LIFE/FUTURE LIES.

Theon predicates his vow to Catelyn with an affirmation of his willingness to do service to Ned, and in fact that's what his access to her relies on. That's probably why he makes such a production of incessantly flirting with her too; because of how it implies he is in Ned and later Robb's good graces! Of course AGOT Theon is also just a flirt for the purposes of producing his masculinity in general. But does anyone really disagree? Moving on.

The door was grey wood studded with iron, and Theon found it barred from the inside. He hammered on it with a fist, and cursed when a splinter snagged the fabric of his glove. The wood was damp and moldy, the iron studs rusted. After a moment the door was opened from within by a guard in a black iron breastplate and pothelm. "You are the son?" "Out of my way, or you'll learn who I am." [ACOK, Theon I]

(Even the damn door is in on it LOL)

Theon knelt. He had a purpose here, and might need Aeron's help to achieve it. A crown was worth a little mud and horseshit on his breeches, he supposed.

He was playing the part of a dutiful young prince for the moment, while he waited for Lord Balon to reveal the fullness of his plans. [ACOK, Theon II]

"My father gave me the command here, Uncle." "And sent me to counsel you." And to watch me. Theon dare not push matters too far with his uncle. The command was his, yes, but his men had a faith in the Drowned God that they did not have in him, and they were terrified of Aeron Damphair. [ACOK, Theon III]

THEON IS PERFORMING FOR BALON. His father doesn't approve of him and Theon is playing the part. He is making every overture and concession to obedience, or piety, that is asked of him. Balon, Aeron, Asha, even Victarion make sure he knows when he's failing—whether it's with an express disapproval or just a knowing laugh. Theon notes all of this because due to how he was raised he's extremely perceptive of how those with power over him regard him.

And Balon does not criticize Theon for not visiting Alannys.

"Will I find my sister and my lady mother at Pyke?" "You will not. [ACOK, Theon I]

Harlaw is only a day’s sail, and surely Lady Greyjoy yearns for a last sight of her son.” “Would that I could. I am kept too busy here. My father relies on me, now that I am returned. Come peace, perhaps...” [ACOK, Theon II]

Theon visiting his mother is not reliant on his own self-motivation, but on whether or not Balon grants him access to her. This is not to say Balon expressly forbade it or that there would have been any direct consequences if Theon had gone over... but it's about goodwill, not permission! What else changes between Theon asking about Alannys when he returns to Pyke and when he explicitly tells Asha that he can't go see her because Balon, because war? Simple: he needs to prove himself to his father as loyal and strong first. To make it explicit, Ned & Robb allowed Theon access to Catelyn in the same manner that Balon refuses (or, at the least, disapproves of) Theon's access to Alannys. Theon is sensitive to this disapproval and does not push the matter.

The only person who pushes Theon to go to Alannys is Asha. Asha obviously has Balon's trust, though, and it could be said she takes it for granted. Asha's level of understanding of Theon is complex; she recognizes him but she doesn't know him. When she says this:

You are blood of my blood, Theon, whatever else you may be. For the sake of the mother who bore us both, return to Deepwood Motte with me. [ACOK, Theon V]

it's actually wild how much is packed in here. For the sake of the mother who bore us both: Theon doesn't yet have the right to Alannys or even know how she'd receive him, given his other receptions on Pyke. Return to Deepwood Motte: the castle Theon believes he should have been tasked with taking above Asha, a concrete proof of his father's mistrust in him, which amongst other reasons spurs on his taking on Winterfell to begin with.

Personally I think Theon as a symbol of Balon's failed rebellion does make him, in Balon's eyes, also a symbol of his failed marriage. Theon does not confirm Baelon's masculinity as a son should, as Asha does. He is a reminder of the ways in which Balon lacks.

I also believe that Theon ~misses his mother, FWIW. He thinks back to his childhood sleeping in the Sea Tower while on his way to Pyke which is a mommy-coded memory; he expects to sleep in his old chambers again when he returns to Pyke—both that and his expectation of seeing Alannys are swiftly disabused. He will not be slipping into his old roles, Theon learns through the reunion with Balon which is violent in more ways than one. It's interesting because Theon actually expects to have to prove himself to his father (which is why he comes armed with a plan for taking Casterly Rock) but he doesn't expect to be punished for having been held hostage all these years.

If we are indulging in symbolism, though:

Above the Sea Tower snapped his father's banner. The Myraham was too far off for Theon to see more than the cloth itself, but he knew the device it bore: the golden kraken of House Greyjoy, arms writhing and reaching against a black field. The banner streamed from an iron mast, shivering and twisting as the wind gusted, like a bird struggling to take flight. And here at least the direwolf of Stark did not fly above, casting its shadow down upon the Greyjoy kraken. [ACOK, Theon I]

The Sea Tower where Theon's childhood memories & hopes for return to his family lie is dominated by his father's banner. At least it's Balon Greyjoy and not Ned Stark, Theon tells himself. Yet the result is the paralleled, mirrored, as Balon and Ned often are with Theon: under Ned's control Theon can't see Alannys because he is Balon Greyjoy's son, while under Balon's control Theon is discouraged from seeing Alannys because he isn't son enough. Perhaps Theon does prioritize the goodwill of his patriarch because he views it as an essential ingredient to his survival and success... but he's also absolutely aware of the role the wife/mother/lady/queen plays in the whole arena too. As power, as leverage. It's pretty plain when you consider that he tells Barbrey she could claim leadership over the North if she so desired. He took such pleasure in being relatively intimate with Catelyn as well.

So, he knows. Yet they're still all held above his head like a little treat. Delicious.

#theon greyjoy #alannys harlaw #ned stark #balon greyjoy #asha greyjoy #aeron greyjoy #text #meta #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #gender in asoiaf

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kikithedreamerwriter · 1 year ago

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Y/N x Bayverse!Turtles

let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist!

🗣️ taglist: @sharpwindow @pheradream-15

Imagines #1: Baby Fever

I recently started watching Sweeth Tooth on Netflix (seasons 1 was 🔥) and this what if has been at the back of my time for MONTHS.

I know that it may be physiologically impossible for mutant turtles to produce with humans BUT HEAR ME OUT.

What if? There was this worldwide pandemic that only affected females. For months, women would not have their period, their temperature would always be at the high 30’s, they would have constant chills, fatigue, and pain in their uterus. Then one day, everyone affected by the disease just suddenly got better as if nothing ever happened. When these women got pregnant, ninths months later, their babies weren’t just normal humans with normal round faces and small hands and feet. NO. But humans with animal features. Like Sweet Tooth!

So when Y/N, months after contracting the mysterious disease and who has been in a stable relationship with (name your turtle), began experiencing morning sickness, mood swings, weird cravings, and no period, she takes a pregnancy test and to her surprise… it’s positive. Maybe the disease somehow changes the physiology of the human female reproductive system? (Insert your own theory/imagine here!)

What do you guys think? 👀

I’d imagine the offspring to still look quite human with a human face, scales from their of their neck to the tops of their shoulders, the would have a turtle shell with unique patterns, iridescent scales fading from their hands up to their arms and their feet to their legs, they would still have five fingers and toes but their hands and feet would be quite large in proportion to their body, colorful eyes, and a “premature” or “faint” plastron on the front of their chests.

HCs for how the brothers will dad!

Leo

Imagine having twin boys with opposite personalities that bicker at one another 24/7. 👦👦

Talk about karma. Splinter had to deal with him and Raph.

He’s a stern dad, but a fair dad.

Will definitely channel his boys’ energy into training.

I imagine each twin having a favorite uncle. One for Uncle Raph, one for Uncle Donnie, but everyone LOVES Uncle Mikey!

Leo will feel insecure at times because his boys always choose you over him, but he needs to be reminded that that his sons IDOLIZE him and are in absolute awe of him whenever Leo spars with his brothers. They’re always on the sidelines cheering for their daddy. 🥺

Leo will want to be a role model to his boys just as Splinter was to him. 💙

Raph

Definitely a girl dad. 👧

Thinks he can say no to those puppy eyes, but Big Red is WEAK for his baby girl (you too, but he’s going to simp HARDER for your little one).

Definitely dreads the day when she begins to likes boys 💀

Raph DADS when he dads. Baby needs a diaper change? He’s got it. Baby having a fit? Raph’s already got her on his plastron, soothing her to sleep. Baby wants to play? He looks good in pink anyways. ❤️

Raphs’s the knight, baby is the princess, and Uncle Mikey is the dragon during playtime.

Expect ALOT of knitted blankets, stuffed animals, and wooden toys.

Daddy Red is PROTECTIVE. Not even a single scratch is allowed on his precious baby.

Donnie

I can see this technical genius with a little helper of his own 👦👧

Boy or girl, rest assured your baby will be just as loved by their daddy and just smart as their daddy.

I can imagine Donnie just curating a library for his little one and he would change the selections yearly. His baby would have their own little library card 🥺 So will all the cousins!

Would LOVE to answer all those annoying “what’s that?” and “why?” questions of your baby whenever they visit him at his lab.

His kid would have his own step stool, lab coat, and protective eyewear in a bin beside his 💜

Funnily enough, they would share a similar love for poptarts 😅

Mikey

Out of all his brothers, Mikey remembers most what it’s like to be a kid, so having one of his one is simply a blessing and an opportunity to provide his own a good childhood like Splinter did for him and his brothers 🥺

You’ll have to do most of the discipline, but he’ll be your cheerleader and “emotional support” when you do that. Like Raph, he can never get mad at his babies.

Yes more than one. One is NOT enough.

Expect alot of sleepovers, Mario Kart game nights, and skate board rink sessions with not only his kids but ALL the cousins ✨

His children will 100% inherit his suave and personality.

He’s the FUN DAD period. Even when his kids are fully grown and have done things that may disappoint him, he will still love them just the same as the first time he saw their adorable little faces 🧡

Like these imagines? What head cannons should I make next? Please reblog and like you enjoyed this 💕✨ Yes you! 👀

#tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt fandom #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leo #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt au

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luckyshinyhunter · 5 months ago

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Fictional characters that definitely deserved better

💪Jen Walters (She-Hulk: Attorney at law)💪

She-Hulk is one of those shows I enjoyed because of the vibes, no surprise that a bunch of dudebros were doing their usual hate on the MCU crap again, especially going after this show.

I like how the show made Jennifer relatable and likable from the start, Tatiana did such a amazingly performance as the titular character along with matching her sassiness and wit like she have in the comics.

The possibilities of She-Hulk season 2 are slim to none, but I still have hope of Jen coming back in the future.

🛩️Andy Demayo (Steven Universe)🛩️

Even though he was kinda rude in his debut episode, but honestly, you would be confused and angry too if you see a bunch of strangers in your barn.

Besides Greg and the residents at Beach City, he rarely calls out Steven's dangerously daily lifestyle with the gems and shows that he cares about his recently known nephew.

After Gem harvest, he resolved the bittered distance and continue visiting his family, even showing at Garnet's wedding.

It was kind of a waste that Future didn't give him anything important to add, he would connect and helped Steven's dilemma with the fear of change, similar to his.

Also a hilarious fun fact, Andy's VA is Carl from Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

🐁Splinter (TMNT 2012)🐁

Honestly one of the most tragic characters in the show, from a broken man who lost everything, to a loving and protecting father who found a new lease on life, along with a family that care for each other to the very end.

He can be strict but he does care about his family and would die fighting for them, he literally died to save them and would do it again if he have to.

Hoon Lee's electrifying portrayal speaks for itself and the critical juncture of his past that parallels him and Shredder is another reason why the show is underrated.

I hate the backlash that this character has been getting and that people are labeling him as a bad father but he's not, the show literally has moments of him caring and protecting his family from danger.

🕸️Miles Morales (Spider-Man)🕸️

Without a doubt, Miles is one of the best Spider-Man characters of all. Pretty disgusting that people are using with the whole Miles Morales is Miles Morales crap to hate on a character that brings a new meaning for a iconic role model for kids.

Into and Across the Spider-verse done a outstanding job, making Miles's personal journey and growth so emotional and inspiring.

Sucks that the third film is going to take a long time to premiere, but at least the PS4 games also give him justice and continues shining Miles.

Miles Morales will forever be one of the best Spider-man, it just sucks that some people won't accept him continuously, but in some way at least there's some people who actually respect him as a character, knowing that he is in forever will be Spider-Man and that makes it him amazing.

📋Lois Lane (My Adventures with Superman)📋

My Adventures with Superman is a show that should be talked about especially on how well written it is, the show adapted Lois very well, along with her budding romance with Clark.

I literally hated how Lois gets treated like garbage by a certain amount of people after the whole secret identity thing, the show does prove that Lois is flawed and complex in a good way, making her likable and relatable, she makes mistakes but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing, everyone does.

The latest episode of season 2 really proves that Lois is a good character, showing her empathetic past and complicated relationship with her dad.

Also, Alice Lee's fun performance as the character is just top notch, whether she's happy or sad, she just nails Lois's character without a doubt.

🧬Morty Smith (Rick and Morty)🧬

This boy has been through enough, with neglectful parents, a sister that does care about him but is focused on her own life, Rick cares sometimes, but can be a real jerk. Morty is more you can be his own person the truth is some things can be holding him back, mostly his grandfather.

I'm glad that Rick is trying to change for the better, I remember I hated the way he treated Morty thoughout the seasons whether using verbal or physical abuse, it also sucks when he tried to do something good yet the universe basically just throws it back at him like a giant middle finger.

I'm glad that the later seasons proves that Morty could be a badass and he can handle himself, but I hope when the new season drops, they find a way to handle his trauma because he deserves a hug.

🎳Wade Whipple (The Sonic franchise)🎳

The Sonic films are underrated but it's problem is that it gets dunked on, especially thanks to a so-called outside of the box thinker.

But unlike the other live action films with bland and boring human characters, the human characters in Sonic are actually likable and memorable, among them is Wade Whipple.

I really don't think he's one of the worst characters in Sonic, honestly his sister and dad deserves to be on that list.

Honestly people hate him just because he have more screen time than Knuckles but one, because it's a TV show budget and Knuckles is in the show, they are acting like he never was in the show.

Two, at least it added layers and flaws that made him even more relatable and serves a purpose to Knuckles's journey.

Like with Tom and Maddie with Sonic, his friendship with Knuckles is another core example of why Knuckles work and his actor, Adam Pally's performance was great too.

🔪Sam Carpenter (Scream 5 and 6)🔪

Sam is another character that deserves more attention and respect than before, partially thanks to her actress.

Aside her rough past and learning the dark truth about her family, Sam cares about the people she loves and isn't afraid to fight for them, even fighting her own personal demons just to do so.

Melissa Barrera is a underrated actress, though Her performance in part 5 was good, I think she was just basically outperformed by everyone else, and it didn't help that she was getting bullied and criticize by bunch of toxic fans.

Scream 6 gave Sam justice and proves that she's a badass final girl, especially thanks to the crew and cast of the films who care and was there for her but thanks to a certain company that fire her for doing the right thing, what's the point of even watching Scream 7 without her and the core four but the good thing is at least it gave her and Sam a bittersweet ending.

🐝Chloe Bourgeois (Miraculous Ladybug)🐝

This one is a completely personal rant, I used to be a fan Miraculous. But after watching the season 3 finale, I feel like the magic of the show just basically disappeared, and seasons 4 and 5 was a huge sign that the show fully gone off the rails.

I remember hating Chloe in the first season and I'm pretty sure everyone else felt the same feeling too, but season 2 actually did the the most surprising thing, actually gave her some character development.

It might be baby steps but still development, she might have been spoiled and selfish sometimes but they actually do show that she has flaws.

Malediktator was one of the best episodes of season 2, they were able to showcase Chloe's vulnerability and it prove that she can change and still be a useful ally like the other miraculous holders.

She protected her friend from getting akumatized again, she almost got Mayura's miraculous, and heck, She literally defied Hawkmoth's control, unlike the other akumatized victims, that is basically spells hero-worthy.

But of course as always, Thomas is just too spiteful and that thinks that Chloe is not just worthy and replaced her with a bland, forgettable and useless character who only exists just because she is "better" than Chloe.

It's honestly just pathetic that her corrupt father who spoils her and the literal villain of the show, who done some horrible and awful things get a redemption arc, but a literal misunderstood child doesn't, it just proves that the writer's room just don't even know how to handle character development nor redemption arcs.

It's even more sad that the film actually treats Chloe better than the show does.

The truth is whether do you like or don't like Chloe, it's possible that she can change, it's just that Thomas is the actual problem of the show, I hope one day somehow Chloe might actually get a actual chance to shine as a character again but maybe in the future it could still could happen.

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tangledinink · 1 year ago

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If you want to answer, I have some questions for the footsquad au bc it seems so cool.

Is there any romance?

Will we get to see splinter in this au?

Do the boys still love Lou jitsu?(bc Cassandra was oblivious but foot lieutenants knew his movies)And do the boys retain any of their old interests.

And are they all the same ranking within the foot? Bc the show made some jokes about the hierarchy and one of the positions was like toe or something lmao. So I’m curious if any outrank each other or Cassandra or even where April falls!

April was kind of a sister to the turtles in the series. Is it still like that or has the dynamic shifted or changed in some way?

I feel like this is a lot but I just really like the idea of this au. Hope you have a good day!

Ah yes!!! I would!!! Love to!!! I love talking about my AU's hehehe.

Is there any romance?

Perhaps.

Will we get to see Splinter in this AU?

We absolutely will! He plays a fairly significant role! He currently lives alone and as inconspicuously as possible in the Hidden City. He has no idea that any of his sons survived the lab explosion that mutated him, but he may or may not end up running into someone at some point who happens to be familiar with them...

Do the boys still love Lou Jitsu? Do they retain their old interests?

Absolutely! Punch Chowder is their collective favorite. They have had many movie nights with Lt. and Brute in the past and probably will continue to do so in the future! Casey doesn't really get their obsession (they're good, but not that good,) but has watched all the movies with them anyway. The boys do have a lot of the same interests! But... slightly to the left? Mikey still loves art and graffiti-- New York is littered with the Foot Clan's symbol, which doubles as his tag. Raph still loves wrestling, and he usually gets his fix by visiting the Battle Nexus to watch competitors tear each other limb from limbety-limb. Donnie still loves tech and science, though with a lot more mystic elements mixed in. And the Foot Clan doesn't mind if he makes bombs! They even encourage it! :)

Are they all the same rank in the Foot?

More or less! They're all still young and relatively low ranking amongst the organization. Casey is the 'leader' and is considered in charge of the rest of them, but that basically went kind of like this:

If you were to organize them by rank, it'd go Casey -> Raph -> Everyone Else, with most of the rest of the clan above them, save for other, newer recruits. That being said, the turtles sort of hold a special, unofficial 'rank' given that they've been with the clan since infancy, and this unspoken status also extends to Casey and April (to an extent) by association.

April was kind of a sister to the turtles in the series. Is it still like that or has the dynamic shifted or changed in some way?

Kind of! They're all definitely still super close, but they met April much later in life than they did in canon. April also had to go through a huge adjustment period when she ran away from home and joined the Clan (duh) which led to their relationship being a tiny bit volatile/strained for a period of time until she settled in. (April also ended up growing very close with Casey during this time. The brothers have been with the Foot for basically their entire lives; this has always been their world. But Casey remembers when she first joined the Clan. She had to adjust, too.) They all definitely consider her their best friend and would do just about anything for her. And if you asked the boys if they have a sister, they'd still say yes-- and then they'd point you towards Casey.

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niphredil-14 · 10 months ago

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soo what do you think the turtles and splinter would do if splinter started actually dating again as a rat? It’s not a yokai trap this time. The persons genuinely nice and funny. This date kind of becomes a mother figure to the boys and gets splinter off his butt. S/o at some point if they get far into the relationship asks Splinter if he wants to play into the romance act very hard whenever his sons are around just to mess with them a bit. Other shenanigans.

(i literally cannot even imagine dating rise splinter he's such a man child, so here's 2012 Splinter I hope that's okay)

This man needs some love, he's been through a lot, and lost his entire family before being a dad to turtles got sprung on him.

I think that his sons would be happy for him, though Mikey would definitely do that awkward overdramatic "EWWWWWWWWW" whenever Splinter and his s/o were at all romantic in front of him. Leonardo would always end up reprimanding Mikey because "it's nice that Master Splinter has someone."

Mikey would be the first to start calling you Mom/Dad, then Donnie would catch on. Leo would probably start by calling you Mr./Miss/Mx L/n, and after a while would move onto Mr./Miss/Mx Y/n, before eventually dropping the Mr./Miss/Mx altogether and just calling you Y/n, and would probably only call you Mom/Dad in special or vulnerable moments. Raph would call you Y/n to start with, and then would (long after Mikey and Donnie) call you Ma/Pa.

If Splinter ever said no, they'd do that typical kid thing and call and ask you instead.

I don't think that Splinter would be too into PDA around his children, at least not a peck on the lips or a hug, all of that stays in private.

I think that Karai wouldn't like you at first, and she would never see you as a parent, though eventually she would come to respect you, and maybe see you more as an aunt/uncle kind of figure to her.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 12 #tmnt 12 splinter #tmnt splinter #2012 hamato yoshi #tmnt hamato yoshi #tmnt hamato yoshi x reader #tmnt splinter x reader

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trilobitepunch · 15 days ago

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What are some of your favorite character relationships/dynamics in TMNT, and why? Is there anything that you particularly like seeing explored with them in fan works (art, writing, comics, etc)?

Awww I gotta get my brain into answer-questions-mode...

Le's see....

What I really love is the exploration of family bonds, especially in the last two show iterations for 2012 and 2018. The original 198something one didn't really seem to dip too much into it, from what I remember, anyway, and only in hindsight do I realize they didn't really seem very teenagerish either, or at least that aspect just seemed lost to me. It's been a bajillion years and I know I never watched its entirety. Not even touching the comics realm- no idea what's going on there.

I completely missed 2003, but 2012's version was the first one that made it clear that they were- aside from being mutants trained as ninja in the sewers by a rat father- teenagers who loved each other but also could be annoyed at each other and mad at each other, tease and fight but still remember who they are to each other by the end of things. I'll tell you now, I've never been a big romance-oriented person and I don't think those relationships in that show really added much to anything. Funny at times, amusing, yes, but that seemed to be about it. Friendship bonds can be just as strong and meaningful!

Where 2012 dipped into relations between the brothers, 2018 pushed it further. The lads were mostly on their own due to a negligent father, although this new aspect of Splinter was refreshing and I love the idea of all of them basically trying to find their way around things and this nebulous duty bound to their family. I love that April's become more of a big sister to them and still shares some bond even with Splinter, similar to 2012's for the whole master and student angle. I think her relationship with Donnie is a fun one, her go-to for technical issues, for hanging out and homework checks, but she's not afraid to speak her mind and set the boy right when his brain is working too much.

The layers and directions they take with each character just makes it a fun mix when they throw everything together. I love that they don't even outright hate the villains and some of the villains don't even know why they hate the turtles but hey! We'll fight 'em just cuz! Ahaha, these poor kids. I do have to add that I'm also glad that no one's overly lamented about the fact that they've been mutated in this show except for poor Splinter at first, but all the villains basically kinda vibe with it like 'oh, I guess this is how my life is now /shrug'.

I like Raph's self-instated role as the oldest to be the protector, and how he especially looks after Donnie when things get sweaty. Or tries to, anyway, look- his heart's in the right place, even if half the time he ends up smashing his squishy brother by accident. I like the competition that goes on between Mikey and Leo, whether it's just at who's better or who's right, it's a fun dynamic. Of course I love Leo and Donnie antics too, and even though there aren't too many, the implications that they have dove into many a hair-brained scheme is just too funny. ...just going to go through all of them I guess. I'M SORRY, THIS GOT SO LONG AGH Right, Mikey and Donnie, a classic team-up, I love that they support each other so much, and the chaos they can get up to. Even funnier, I love that they actually succeed most of the time. And then Mikey and Raph's little bro vs oldest bro dynamic, which is in a way the same as Leo and Raph in that they can see eye-to-eye and get along, but when they clash, they clash hard. Classic.

...sorry I'm still not done, one more section...!!

When it comes to fanworks, I just like to see more of what was set up in the shows and the movie, but I also like being pleasantly surprised by wild and creative takes now and then. It's like... the reason I RP a character is to get more story, to see how so-and-so goes through and deals with this situation or another, the friends and enemies they might make in a different setting or opportunity. Fanart has glimpses of such things, fanfics and comics explore them in depth. Y'all are amazing, for the record, just saying.

OKAY SHUTTING UP NOW, here's my term paper *hits submit*

#ask-a-trilo

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snowballsealmain · 5 months ago

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Jealousy

Kevin Ryan X Reader

Summary: After you get injured on a case, Ryan breaks up with you in a misguided effort to protect you. Neither of you handle it well but Ryan is an idiot and stubborn, so Lanie comes up with a simple plan to fix it: make him jealous. And boy does it work.

Loosely inspired by 'Attention Female Perspective' - Andie Case Cover

Word Count: 4098

Warnings: jealousy is it's own warning I suppose? Possessive/protective behavior. Kinda gets a little spicy at the end but mostly just making out :3

Angst with a happy ending.

---

“I’m doing this to protect you.”

“Ryan, this wasn’t your fault,” you sigh, hanging your jacket up.

Every part of you aches. It was supposed to be a simple mission. You’d received intel that your suspect was hiding out in an abandoned warehouse at the harbor. You’d be in and out, that was the plan.

What wasn’t in the plan, however, was a bomb.

“You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if we weren’t-” Ryan grits his teeth, eyes dropping to his shoes.

It all plays on a loop in his head. Every detail. The way you hesitated at the door. The realization in your eyes. The sound of your voice breaking as you yelled for him to get down. He only had seconds before you were barreling into him, the bomb splintering through the wall as you hit the ground.

None of your injuries were serious. You were fine. The doctor said it, you’ve said it over and over, but none of it eases the guilt burning up his throat.

Afterall, he walked away untouched and you walked away with a back full of shrapnel and stitches. How is that fine?

“It’s my fault,” he bites out, forcing his eyes back up to you.

“It’s not. I would have done it regardless of our relationship,” you insist softly, “and you know that.”

“Still-”

“Kevin.” The detective flinches when you touch his hand, drawing back, away from you. You blink, hurt and realization flashing across your face, just like before. “You’re serious…”

He wishes he wasn’t. He wishes he could take it all back, because you’re looking at him like an abandoned pup, eyes impossibly wide and sweet and hurt. It makes his chest ache. But then he sees the stitches along your temple again, and he knows he can’t.

This is the last time you’ll get hurt because of him.

“I’m sorry.”

You want to argue. You want to fight and beg him to stop and just think about it. But you swallow the urge, throat closing up as his eyes meet yours one final time, a familiar gleam burning in their depths, one you know all too well.

He’s made his decision. And there’s nothing you can do to change it. And that makes something in your break.

Ryan takes a tentative step towards you. You have to bite your tongue as he touches your cheek, eyes burning with tears as his lips press tenderly against your forehead. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave. Please.

“I love you,” he murmurs so quietly and it sounds so finite, so genuine, that you almost wish it wasn’t true. How can love feel like this?

You keep your eyes trained on the floor when he pulls away. And when you hear the door open. And when it shuts. Leaving you alone. The only thing left of him being the warmth lingering on your cheek. Until it fades.

And that’s when you break.

The tears spill over your cheeks, fast and hot, trailing down to bead along your chin. You wipe at them angrily, hands shaking so hard that you can hardly even do that. No sound escapes you, not a sob, or a shaky breath. You just sit there, caving around the hollow feeling in your chest.

Every part of you aches. Inside and out, now. If only you could have seen this explosion coming.

---

“He broke up with you?!”

You flinch at Lanie’s sharp pitch, giving her a tired frown.

“I’d rather not everyone know, Lanie,” you sigh, glancing around worriedly. You’re not at the precinct, but there’s still no telling who could be here to overhear your conversation.

Lanie has never been one to do calm, though, “No, no, no. You're going to need to explain, right now, what happened.”

“Go easy on her, Lanie.” You cast Kate a grateful look. She nods, an understanding smile pulling at her lips. “She’s been through a lot the past couple of days.”

“I just don’t understand.” Lanie scowls, gesturing at you with her fork. “That man is so in love with you it’s disgusting. Why on earth would he break up with you?”

You pinch your lips together, discomfort prickling at your skin. It still hurts. You spent hours crying in your room that night, but now you just feel a deep ache in your chest, because you get it. You understand why Kevin did what he did. It doesn’t stop the hurt, but at least you can breathe.

“It was because of what happened on our last strike,” you start, “He thinks I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if we weren’t in a relationship. That I wouldn’t have tried to protect him.”

“That’s stupid.”

Try telling him that, you think humorlessly.

“He feels guilty,” you explain weakly, but she doesn’t let it fly.

“That’s not a good reason to break your heart.”

Kate pipes in then with one of her own, infamous scowls, “Ryan’s processing things in his own way, I’m sure he’ll realize that soon.”

“Are you defending his sorry ***?”

“No, but he’s a good man,” she replies coolly, unphased by your fiery friend. “While I agree that he’s being stupid, I’m sure (Y/n) doesn’t want us to go at him with fire and brimstone.”

“That’s true,” you nod in agreement, much to Lanie’s frustration.

“You both make it sound like we should just leave him to it,” she sighs in exasperation and you almost smile.

“He is an adult, Lanie, he can make his own decisions.”

“Not when it’s this decision,” she scoffs, flipping out her phone.

You catch Beckett’s gaze, both of you wary. Lanie had a knack for coming up with some wild plans. Like the time she dragged you both out to the club and you ended up having to fight your way out after a man got a little too handsy with Kate. At work she is one of the most professional people you know, but you’d learned early on that Lanie Parish is not a woman to be reckoned with.

“What are you doing?” You ask, voice coming out just as cautious as you feel.

The look she gives you is all mischief, smile just a touch too wide.

“We’re getting you your man back, sugar.”

---

“This is a bad idea,” you grumble.

“This is a great idea,” Lanie hums, finishing up your makeup.

Kate watches on from the sidelines, already dressed to the T’s and looking gorgeous as ever. You send her a pleading look, but the detective just shrugs apologetically. There’s no stopping Lanie once she’s on to something.

“I really don’t feel like going to the club…” All you want to do is lay in bed and eat ice cream, like you have the past couple nights.

“This will work, trust me.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Kate points out.

“Shush.” Lanie does one last brush over your cheeks before stepping back with a proud smile. “Now tell me, am I good? Or am I good?”

You roll your eyes and turn to look at yourself in the mirror. And the person you see doesn’t quite look like yourself. She does, but not the way you feel. This woman is bold and sultry and powerful. You remember the feeling. It is you, just the version you’d lost in the past few days.

“I forgot that I can be like this,” you whisper, huffing out a little laugh. “Thanks, Lanie.”

“It’s my pleasure. Now let’s get going. The boys should be getting there soon.”

Kate perks a brow, “How did you convince them to show?”

“I told Javi to take Ryan out drinking. Get his mind off things.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you shake your head in amusement. “If all goes to plan, this should help him realize how stupid he’s being.”

“Or just show him I’m over him,” you chime, concern seeping into your voice, “which I’m not.”

“Girl, what did I say about trusting me?” Lanie flicks your forehead playfully. You shoot her a glare, pushing up from the chair to smooth out your dress. It’s one of Ryan’s favorites. A short, dark navy piece that falls to mid-thigh, fitted but not tight, with a sweetheart neckline. Lanie gives you another once over, a wicked smile curving her lips. “He’s going to go crazy once he sees you all dressed up. Every guy with a decent set of eyes is going to be watching you tonight, sugar. Be confident, let loose a bit, it’ll be fun.”

You take a deep breath, looking at your reflection one last time. You can do that. Have fun. Just like any other girls night, right?

The moment you step into the club, you can feel the energy wash over you. The music, the smell of alcohol and perfume and cologne, the soft buzz of conversation under it all. It’s a nicer place, one you frequented before you and Ryan got together, with a good menu and even better music.

Lanie drags you to the bar first, buying the three of you drinks. You accept your gratefully, taking a quick sip of the whiskey to ease the nerves buzzing under your skin. It burns your throat, but the taste lingers pleasantly on your tongue, and all you can think about is the man who introduced you to it.

“There they are.” Lanie elbows you softly, nodding her head to the other side of the bar.

You freeze, grip tightening around your glass. As subtly as you can, you try to follow her pointed look. And she’s right. Esposito sits perched at the far end of the bar, with a rather dejected looking Ryan beside him.

A small frown pulls at your lips. He looks horrible. You’d only caught glimpses of him at work, since he’s been avoiding you like the plague. But even in this light you can tell he looks like a shell of himself. And you hate it.

“What’cha going to do, sugar?”

You glance back at your friends. Lanie raises a brow at you, not pushing anymore. She brought you here, set all this up, but the last bit is your decision. You could leave, you realize. Eyes turning to Kate, you see the exact same acknowledgement. It’s all up to you. Either try to get Ryan back, granted in a very stupid and juvenile way, or run away and let things stay like they are.

It’s not something you have to think about.

Tipping back the rest of your drink, you hand Lanie your glass.

“Now or never, right?” You chirp, forcing confidence into your voice.

“Go get him.”

“We’ll be here if you need us.”

You pause. A genuine smile flickers over your features, the first in days.

“Thanks guys.”

Mind made up, you turn to the dance floor, chin held high as you make your way towards it, heels clicking softly against the floor.

---

“Can we just go home?” Ryan sighs, staring down into his now empty cup.

“Nope,” Javier pops the ‘p’ emphatically, “I brought you here to feel better, and we’re not leaving ‘til then.”

“Javi, I love you man, but I don’t think a night of drinking with you is going to help with this.” Especially when this place reminds him so much of you. And the whiskey. Even the music. Everything makes him think about you.

Javier is about to make a smart remark when he catches sight of a familiar blue dress moving to the dance floor. A smirk pulls at his lips, “Trust me, man, this’ll help.”

“Seriously, man, I just-” Ryan freezes, eyes locking on the same thing.

You’re here. Every thought in his head goes quiet as he watches you, throat going dry as he takes in your figure, the way your dress hugs you ever so gently as you move among the crowd. His favorite dress. He’d always thought you looked beautiful in it, and he loved how it felt under his hands as he pulled you close, as he memorized every curve of your body. The memory makes his hands fist at his side.

“I should go,” he states, standing abruptly. Before he does something stupid.

“Sit your *** back down,” Esposito barks, glare so deadly he can’t help but drop back onto his stool. “You wanted this, bro, so you need to deal with it. Stop being a coward.”

Ryan presses his lips together. That’s true. He made this decision. He just didn’t realize how difficult it would be. It’s hard enough seeing you at the precinct, when you’re dressed for business and somehow still look more beautiful than the day he met you. But this?

He glances back to you, swallowing thickly.

The way you move makes something in his stomach tighten. You sway softly to the heavy beat, body moving so naturally, so captivatingly, it’s hard to believe you’re a cop when the sun’s out. Ryan wants nothing more than to be right there behind you, holding you close, whispering how gorgeous you look into your ear just to watch that adorable blush warm your cheeks.

But he can’t.

---

You can practically feel Ryan’s eyes burning through you. Oddly enough, it gives you a certain sense of confidence, knowing he’s watching you.

The music pulses through you, and you let your body move on its own. You can almost feel his hands tracing along your waist, the warmth of his breath on your ear as he draws you close. His voice was always so low when you danced like this, quiet enough that only you could hear him in the mass of moving bodies, rough and full of promises he would press into your skin later in the night.

You almost jump when a pair of hands actually touches your waist. On instinct, you flip around, coming face to face with a stranger you’ve never seen before. A man. He’s tall, and attractive, you suppose.

An idea pops into your head.

Forcing an easy smile onto your lips, you ease into the man’s touch, “Hi, there.”

“Sorry if I scared you,” he laughs, a charismatic smile brightening his face, “I just thought you looked too beautiful to be dancing alone.”

“Well that’s kind of you,” you hum, leaning in closer, “So you’re offering to dance with me, huh?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.” At least he’s nice. You’re sure you’ll feel bad for using him later.

Slowly, you guide his hands back to your hips, tracing yours up his arms to settle on his shoulders, “I don’t mind at all.”

The man grins. You can practically feel the anger sparking at the other end of the room as you let him pull you closer.

Ryan always was secretly a bit possessive.

---

Ryan tightens his grip on his glass, jaw flexing.

He never considered himself a jealous man, not until he met you, and then even the thought of another man putting hands on you made his blood boil. So seeing it, having to watch another man touch you the way he used to, it takes everything in him to stay seated.

“Look at him,” he grits out, voice strained, “touching her without even asking first. I ought to go teach him some manners.”

“I don’t know, man,” Javier taunts knowingly, “She doesn’t look too upset about it if you ask me.”

A frown pulls at Ryan’s lips. He casts his partner a scowl, “What are you saying, huh? That she’s already over me?”

Esposito rolls his eyes, “No man. Jeez, how oblivious can you be?”

“What do you mean?”

“Lanie set this up to make you jealous,” he admits with a shrug, “We all think you’re being stupid.”

Ryan’s brow furrows. Is he being stupid?

His eyes flicker back to you, fingers twitching when he sees the man’s hands wandering a little too low for his liking. And despite what Javier says, Ryan can read your discomfort with ease. Your smile is too tight, your body too stiff. That’s not how you like being touched. He knows how you like being touched.

“Listen man-” His gaze turns back to his partner, sharp and burning with poorly concealed anger. Javier looks at him with complete seriousness, not phased for a second. “-I know you feel guilty about what happened. But she loves you. I couldn’t tell you why, but she does. Are you really going to give that up just ‘cause you’re scared?”

That strips him to his bones. Ryan can feel the tension in his body, like he could break with the slightest push. Because he knew from the start that there was no way he could stay away from you. He hates it. Hates seeing you look so sad, hates the thought of another man thinking he can have you. You’re his girl.

It was stupid of him to think he could let you go.

When he glances back at you again, what’s left of his composure cracks, something molten pouring into his veins. You look upset, leaning away from the man as he holds you too close, and then your eyes meet his, begging for help.

Ryan’s out of his seat before he can stop himself.

Javier glances to Lanie, a smug smirk pulling at his lips as she meets his gaze. The woman sends him a wink back with a wicked smile of her own.

---

You're this close to shoving the man off you when suddenly someone is doing it for you.

“Hey!” He practically barks, anger flashing over his face. “What’s your problem, buddy?”

Your breath hitches when an arm curls around your shoulders protectively, pulling you back into a firm chest. The familiar smell of coffee and whiskey wash over you and you immediately relax into the hold, glancing back at him.

Ryan doesn’t look down at you, eyes locked on the man in a dark glare. His hair is mussed, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing the prominent muscles in his arms. If looks could kill, the man in front of you would be lying on Lanie’s table. He might end up there anyways if the tension in Kevin’s body says anything. Like a snarling dog, ready to lunge.

“My problem, buddy,” he bites out, voice dripping with sarcasm, “is that you have no clue how to treat a woman.”

“She didn’t seem to be complaining,” the man snaps back, eyes narrowing.

“Guess he’s blind too, huh, sweetheart?” You shudder as Ryan pulls you even closer, unconsciously pressing back into him. You’ve missed this, missed him. “Can’t even read your body. This is what a woman looks like when she wants you to touch her.” His eyes flash back up to the man with a dark glint. “Not what she looked like with you, now is it?”

The man grits his teeth, and you cast a wary glance to his fists, curled and shaking at his sides.

“She came onto me, man,” he sneers, “now, if you’d back off, we have some business to finish.”

He reaches for you, ready to drag you back, but Ryan is already moving, drawing you behind his body to come face to face with the man. Every muscle in your body goes tense as you watch, but Ryan doesn’t even flinch, staring him down with a cool glare.

“I really wouldn’t if I were you,” Ryan threatens, voice going low as he flashes the badge hanging from his belt, “I’d be more than happy to lock a scumbag like you up for sexually harassing an officer.”

This finally makes the man hesitate. He glances at you, then back to Ryan, before taking a slow step back.

“You’re cops?”

You nod, cautiously curling your fingers into the back of Kevin’s shirt. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the man, but he eases up enough to let you draw him back a few steps. Just to make sure he doesn’t end up hitting the man anyways.

“You should probably go,” you murmur, offering him a fake apologetic smile, “Sorry for leading you on, but I just wanted a nice dance.”

He purses lips, suddenly looking incredibly awkward. Maybe because Ryan is still glaring daggers at him. With a muffled excuse, he takes off back into the crowd. It’s only when he fully disappears that you turn back to Ryan, a joke on your lips to break the tension, but all that comes out is a squeak as he abruptly starts dragging you to the exit.

“Ryan! Hey, stop.” Your words fall on deaf ears. You can’t even put up a fight against the pace he sets, barely able to keep up with your heels.

It’s only when he drags you into a nearby alley that he stops and forces you against the wall. The cold bricks press into your back, making you gasp, but then his hands are on you and every thought, every protest, gets lost.

“Kevin-”

“What were you thinking?” He growls, hands burning against your hips, your waist, your back. You shiver, arching into his touch as his lips trace a rough path down your neck, biting and marking your skin as he goes.

“I just- ah- I wanted to see if you really didn’t want me,” you breathe out, fingers curling into his shirt, desperate for any kind of anchor.

Ryan scoffs, pressing every inch of his body against yours, his lips drawing tauntingly close to yours, “All I’ve thought about the past couple days is how much I want you. I never stopped wanting you, sweetheart.”

“Felt like you did,” you whisper, looking at him from under your lashes.

Something in him shifts, and Ryan cups your face, resting his forehead against yours tenderly. Your eyes flutter shut, a shaky breath passing your lips.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, so softly, just like before, but this time he doesn’t draw away, doesn’t leave you standing there alone. “I’m sorry I was an idiot. You didn’t deserve that. And I didn’t want it.”

Your eyes flicker back open, and you look at him, something desperate curling in your chest.

“Prove it,” you demand, chin tilting up. Please.

Surprise flashes across his face. Then a wolfish smirk.

“Yes, ma’am.”

And he finally kisses you.

His lips press against yours, hard and insistent and hungry. You whine softly, knees buckling under you, but his hands slide around your waist, hoisting you against the wall. A gasp escapes you as he presses into you, hands slipping under your thighs to hold you up. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, brushing against yours tenderly. You melt into him, your fingers curling into his hair, delighted at the familiar softness. He groans, low and deep, against your lips.

It’s only when your lungs start to ache, desperate for air, that you tear away, chest stuttering. But Kevin doesn’t stop. His lips move along your jaw, tracing that same path over the already sensitive skin of your neck. Your breath catches when he settles on a particular spot, right above your collar, drawing a dark bruise there for everyone to see. His hands wander under the hem of your dress, fingers digging into the firm muscles of your thighs, warm and calloused and -

“You know, I could have you two arrested for indecency.”

You scream and shove Ryan back a good few inches.

The detective huffs, letting you down gently but not pulling away as he sends Javier a glare.

“Really, man?”

“Sorry, just figured I should stop you before you scar some innocent bystander.” The man smirks at you from the street, and you wish you could just melt into the bricks.

“Esposito, I will kill you,” you threaten, though the blush on your face takes all the bite out of your words.

“I’d have to report you if you did.” Oh god. Beckett too? You hide your face in Ryan’s chest, feeling him chuckle against you. “I don’t think the captain would be very pleased if one of our own turned into a murderer.”

“I’m going to die here,” you mourn.

“Wanna go home?” Ryan hums, pressing a kiss to your hair.

You nod, “Anything to get away from them.”

“Hey! You have us to thank for this nice, steamy reunion,” Javier barks out, still wearing that smug smile.

“Yah, if it weren’t for us, you’d both still be moping about missing each other,” Lanie chirps up, and your face goes even darker. ��I think we deserve a thank you.”

You stick your hand out from between your bodies, flashing them the bird, “Thank you.”

---

disclaimer: none of my fics claim to be realistic or accurate when referring to police work/medical knowledge/work relationships

#castle kevin ryan x reader #castle tv show #x reader #reader insert #kevin ryan x reader #kevin ryan #angst with a happy ending #break up #getting back together #jealousy #possessive

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am30000 · 7 months ago

Text

My headcannons for ROTTMNT reader insert

So in my headcanons Y/n is the turtles mother. Shes been a friend Spilinter/Lou jistu for years but ever since he became a professional fighter/actor they haven't spoken. But the day after he was mutated along with the turtles he finds himself at her doorstep seeking shelter. Dispite years of not talking they were still God friends and Y/n is very willing to help him out. When she saw the turtles she immediately begged to adopt them. After a year or so with Splinter living with her Y/n was evicted by her land lord for no apparent reason. They lived on the streets for a while until they moved to the sewers to hide both splinter and the turtles from the world wasn't ready for them. After a little building and such they made the lair and raised the boys there.

Now lemme give you their relationship with Y/n when they met vs now.

Leo

Then

Leo is the second one of the turtles to trust and accept her from the moment they met. Even if he was still a baby he warmed up to her immediately. It was like he could sense that she wasn't a threat. As a baby he would often follow her around everywhere and if he wanted her attention, which was all the time, he would make chirping turtle noises. He used this to try to communicate with her that he wants attention because he's a baby and he can't talk yet. He would often make a fuss if she placed him down. He's a total mama's boy.

Now

Leo is still the biggest mamas boy like ever. He's always trying to be around her and still follows her around a lot. He takes after Y/n alot from her corny jokes to her laugh. He's practically almost a carbon copy of her. Leo learned practically everything he knows from her, from riding a skate board to making corny jokes. They planned an hour a day just for making jokes. He considers himself the unofficial favorite child. He's definitely written a couple books of corny jokes she'd definitely love for her birthday and mother's day.

Mikey

Then.

Mikey was the first to trust Y/n. It only took a single cookie to gain his trust and he was practically sold. Like Leo he fussed when she wasn't with him 24/7 but the difference is he took a minute to notice she was gone. Mikey was way more clingy than Leo and would also try to follow her around too but he'd get tired easily cause he was so small. Whenever Mikey had nightmares he goes to her and tells her all about them and she eventually lets him sleep in her bed after hearing him. I mead who could resist baby Mikey?

Now

Mikey is just like Leo when I say mamas boy. He takes a lot after her and his Dr delicate touch was inspired by her. Mikey learned to cook from her and got into condisending kitchen with her. Mikey and Y/n are always watching random soapopras and then gossiping about the characters for hours on end. Mikey always gets up early to try and make her breakfast but he's always too late as Y/ns already in the kitchen making breakfast. Mikey wants to take off some of the load but it's like she doesn't want it. Mikey does try his best to help her around the lair. Best believe Mikey is going all out on the cooking for birthdays and mother's day.

Raph

Then

Raph is the third to trust her out of them all. Despite being a kid at the time he couldn't bring himself to trust her so quickly. She was new to him and since he was the oldest it was his job to protect the family. Btw at this time Raph is around four. Raph was very skeptical of her but after a while he saw how genuine she weas and eventually trusted her.

Now

Raph considers Y/n family and he vows to protect her. She had been doing the most for him when he started growing bigger. For example, when he got too big and heavy for his bed she with the help of Donnie made a new bed to support his weight and still be comfy. When his favorite shirt got too small she made a new one that looked exactly like it but big enough to fit on him. She also got a job just to buy him and the others some stuff. Raph couldn't help but just love her even more for that. To think his mom cared so much that she was doing the most to keep him and his brothers happy made want to just hug her to death. They definitely love plushies and talk about them day and night. He is definitely getting her a couple plushies for her birthday and mother's day.

Donnie

Then

Donnie did not like her at all at first. For instance He would bite, hiss and whatever at her just to get her to leave him alone. He didn't trust her no matter what she did and that made Y/n really upset. She tried everything to get him to like her but it didn't work until she started to cry. This honestly shocked Donnie. He didn't think he'd be able to make her cry. He wasn't sure what to do so he went up to her and gave her and place her finger on his head. He had seen her do the same with the others and that made her smile when she did it to them so he thought it would cheer her up. Let's just say he was a little nicer to her after that and after a while he warmed up a little.

Now

Donnie had now completely warmed up to Y/n calling her mother and everything. Whenever he made a new invention she was the first he showed because he knew she'd always like his inventions. Every now and then She's just going to say she's proud of him out of the blue which just confuses him but he takes it. He would often ask for various things like titanium and stuff and doesn't question where she gets it's from. Donnie gets his sarcasm from her no doubt. She encourages him to go above and beyond when he's working. He learned how to use his staff from her since she use to use one back in the day. And no doubt she's his favorite parent cause she actually allows him to work past bedtime and because she makes his favorite dinner every Saturday just for him. Better believe he's planned on what to make her for her birthday and mother's day for the next 60 years.

#rottmnt #rise leo #rise mikey #rise donnie #rise raph #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt reader insert #rottmnt headcanons

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bathomet-writes · 2 years ago

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Could- 👉👈 could I perhaps ask for a rise Mikey x reader short, where like: it starts with a flashback of the boys as kids, going outside for the first time and while exploring, Mikey spots this little girl on the playground and just thinks she's the prettiest creature he's ever seen, so he goes to give her a flower, completely forgetting he's a mutant and like, readers scared at first but then sees the flower and is suddenly flattered

And then flashback ends: Mikey is now left hopelessly in love with reader, who the boys have now been friends with for a long time and reader is like well dam aware of mikeys crush, but decides to act like she doesn't know to see how long it'll take Mikey, but after a failed attempt of impressing reader by almost getting hurt, reader is just like 'fuck it' and makes the first move

If u don't wanna do it then just pretend u don't see this, and if ur interested, feel free to make any changes you'd like. Also pls do not feel rushed and have a good day.

candy hearts and paper flowers

relationship: Mikey x F!reader

warnings: romantic, fluff, humor, minor hurt/comfort, kissing, sfw

word count: 5,289

author's note: omg..my first request!! this was so fun, i've never written for mikey before. i hope you like it!!

Mikey peeks his head out, lifting the manhole cover up a couple of inches to get a look around. The sliver of light that flooded out from the outside was mesmerizing. He blinks, adjusting to the brightness.

“Woah…!” He lifts the lid even higher.

“What do you see?” Donnie whispers. “Is it a horse? I read that there are horses out there sometimes.”

“You read that there are horses in New York? Please,” Leo sighs.

Raph climbed up the ladder behind the other three, urging them to keep moving. “Quit holdin’ up the line!”

Leo and Donnie crash into one another, knocking their noggins awkwardly. “OW!”

Heaving the manhole cover to the side, Mikey jumps through the air. He tucks his body in to do a quick backflip, crying out a high-pitched “Hoo-wah!”

Mikey stood in hushed amazement, taking in the view of the street they popped out of. He’d only seen places like this on T.V. or in comic books, or while sneaking secret looks through sewer drains. But to stand on the pavement, feeling the dirt and grit beneath his toes, it was something else. He simply couldn’t contain his excitement any longer.

“This is amazing! Hello dumpster! Hello alley cat! Hello mysterious rainbow-colored puddle!” He hopped and skipped with glee, greeting every object his eyes fell on.

Eventually, Donnie, Leo, and Raph made their way out of the sewer to join him. They too were taken with the mundane sights around them, amazed at the fact that they were finally above ground. Donnie had already pulled out a crumpled up notepad to scratch down notes. Little observations of the people and buildings he saw. Leo was equally enraptured, following Donnie around as he pointed out various things on the ground.

“Woah, a used cigarette. Cool!”

“Don’t eat it,” Raph warns.

The red-clad turtle was trying his best to stay vigilant of his brothers, making sure none of them wandered too far off or ingested something they shouldn’t. He couldn't help but be star-struck as well, however. The ambient sounds of cars passing by and humans talking amongst themselves filled his ears. Raph claps his hands together, getting the others’ attention.

“Okay, boys. Splinter said we could come up and explore for exactly thirty minutes. Not thirty-one minutes, thirty minutes.” Raph gathered up everyone in a tight huddle, laying down the ground rules. “If any of you mess this up for us–”

“All we have to do is keep a low profile and not die, right?” Leo scoffs.

Mikey nods enthusiastically, siding with Leo. “Easy as pie!”

“I concur. Let us all go our separate ways and reconvene here in a half-hour. Commence the synchronizing of watches.” Donnie readjusts his glasses on the ridge of his nose before hitting a button on his wrist.

That was all Mikey needed to hear before bounding away, giggling to himself. “Cowabunga!”

Raph was soon left standing by himself as the others followed suit, going off in separate directions. Sputtering, he calls out to them. “W-Wait up! Don’t leave me alone!”

Quickly, he chooses to run after Leo across the street.

Mikey made a beeline through a nearby alleyway to explore its contents. The smell was strangely worse up here than it was down in the sewers. The pungent scent of garbage made his nose scrunch up in disgust.

“Nasty. Humans just leave their trash lying out like this?”

Once he gets one last look at the graffiti markings on the brick wall, he flattens himself to the corner of the building to check out the perimeter. There were a couple people walking around, talking on phones and looking somewhat distracted. Taking a chance, Mikey steps out onto the sidewalk, suddenly very nervous.

The locals didn’t seem too interested in a pre-teenage mutant ninja turtle, not so much as sparing him a passing glance. Mikey twiddles his fingers together, almost waiting for someone to scream out in horror.

“Huh…” he blinks. “I guess New Yorkers really have seen everything.”

He scans around for a moment, casually people-watching. There were so many humans, and they all looked so different!

Suddenly, his eyes catch a glimpse of a playground just a couple of yards away. His eyes go wide, sparkling.

“Omigosh!” Without thinking, he sprints over.

The playground was sizable, seemingly a part of a larger park in the neighborhood. Mikey marveled at the monkey bars, jungle gym, and various slides. He does one more double-take, making sure there was no one else around, before launching himself into the air.

“Aw, yeah! All mine, baby.”

For the next fifteen minutes or so, Mikey sampled all the playground had to offer. This kind of place was the perfect outlet for all his manic energy. He swung off of every monkey bar, climbed through all the plastic tunnels, and dug through the sandbox for any potential treasures that were hidden away.

As he buried himself within a sand castle he constructed, Mikey patted himself into a cocoon. “There, perfect.”

“What are you doing?” A tiny voice calls out.

“Hm?”

Mikey turned his head toward the swingset to his left. Somehow, he failed to notice a human girl sitting right beside him. She sat clutching the chains of the swing, letting her foot move herself slightly back and forth.

“I said, what are you doing? You’re gonna get sand everywhere.”

Mikey laid there, looking up to the sky in deep thought. Only his head was visible, while the rest of his body was buried in the sand. That must be the reason why she wasn’t terrified by the sight of his unusual green skin.

“I like being buried.” He chirps.

The girl continued to stare, pushing herself lazily on the swing. “Whatever.”

Mikey turns back and gives her a pleasant smile. He was thankful for the company, even if it was a slightly annoyed human. As he opened his eyes to fully look at her, he felt a sudden tightness in his chest. And it wasn’t just from being trapped in a sand prison.

Mikey didn’t know how to describe it. He could look at a painting and call it beautiful, or look at the moon up above and say it was enchanting. But the person sitting next to him, looking at him with slight indignation, left him gobsmacked.

She tried to look away and continue to enjoy her swing in peace, but she felt Mikey’s eyes bore into her.

“Do you want me to leave or something?” She sighs.

“What’s your name?”

She turns back to him, a small frown gracing her charming features. The way her scowl curled to the side was adorable. Every minute detail of her face was drawing Mikey in.

“What’s your name?”

Suddenly, Mikey sits up and lets the sand fall from his person. “Michael. Angelo. Michaelangelo!”

Her annoyed expression falls away as she takes notice of his shell. The green skin, the bald head, suddenly it clicked.

“You’re a…?”

Mikey scrambles up, putting his hands out in a placating gesture. “I-I know, it’s weird! Is it the mask? It’s the mask, isn’t it?”

He reaches up to untie it and pull it off of his head. Holding it out before him, Mikey waves it around in her face. “See!”

Scoffing, she bats his hand away. “I mean you’re a turtle!”

Mikey secures his mask back on before giving her another winning smile. He shoots his hand out for a shake.

“Yup! And you are…?”

“I’m leaving.” She slaps his hand away again, rejecting his friendly gesture.

Mikey watches as she moves to sit up, heart-broken. His lips tremble slightly as he rubs at his hand. Maybe he was being too presumptuous, but he didn’t really expect to get such a cold welcome his first day up on the surface.

His eyes search around, desperate to find a reason to make her stay. “Wait! I can push you on the swing? If you want…?”

She stops, looking back at Mikey. After a couple seconds of contemplation, she sits back down.

“I guess that’s fine.”

Instantly, Mikey’s mood does a 180. “Yes!”

Stepping behind her, Mikey places his hands on the chains. He begins to step backward and lift the girl into the air. She gulps, her hands gripping tighter.

“This is kinda high.”

“That’s the best part! Here. We. Go!”

Then, Mikey reels back and lets the swing go. He doesn’t take into account the fact his strength was a little more intense than most, accidentally sending the girl flying.

Screaming, she does a full rotation. Mikey stares on in horror as she does another spin. And another. Eventually, she becomes tied to the top rung of the swing set, bound tightly by the chains.

“That, uh…might be a little too high?” He chuckles.

“GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!” She wails, wiggling against her restraints. “How did you even do that?!”

Mikey quickly jumps up into the air and lands on the bar. He gives her an apologetic look, feeling like he was in real trouble.

“Sorry! I’m so, so sorry! Let me just—“

She blinks at him, watching as he untangles her from the swing. “You’re…really strong!”

She grins in spite of herself. Her limbs finally go slack and she’s pulled up into Mikey’s grasp. He holds her for a second before gently setting her back on the ground.

“I’m really sorry again. I kinda can’t control my own strength yet.”

Mikey hangs his head as he lands on the wood chip surface of the playground.

She kicks her feet, feeling a little awkward for making such a fuss about it. He looked so genuine, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“It’s fine…That was actually kind of fun.”

Mikey looks up, hopeful. “It was?”

She nods, holding out her hand. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Mikey beams, his eyes shining like stars. He wasn’t sure what it was about this girl that was making him so upbeat. Well, more upbeat than he usually was. He launches forward and brings her into a tight hug, shaking her back and forth.

“Y/N! You’re my first new human friend! The first of many!”

She groans, trying to escape his enthusiastic hold. “Okay, that’s enough!”

Chucking, he releases her. “Right. Sorry, too much.”

Mikey rubs the back of his head, smiling goofily at her. She flits her eyes down to his mouth, noticing his missing tooth. Without thinking, she covers her mouth.

“Your teeth.”

Mikey, feeling suddenly very bashful, closes his mouth. “Yeah, I know. My dad says the tooth gap will go away eventually, but…”

The girl blinks, moving her hand away. She didn’t mean to make him embarrassed at all. To Mikey’s shock, she breaks out in quiet laughter.

“H-Hey!” He shouts, waving his hands around. “That’s not very nice!”

She laughs even harder, moving her hands away from her mouth. Then, Mikey sees it. She was missing her top right canine.

Blushing, she points up to her teeth. “You’re just like me! I lost this tooth last week. That’s so funny!”

Mikey’s eyes go wide, watching her continue to heartily laugh. Slowly, his lips curl into a smile. He chuckles along with her, his voice steadily growing in volume.

As the two of them wind down, Mikey’s smile falls away. He never really interacted with a real human before, was this how he was supposed to feel? His stomach was full of butterflies, hands opening and closing out of sheer restlessness.

“Can I give you something?”

Walking back to lean against the swing, she nods. “Depends.”

Mikey sweats, realizing he didn’t really have anything to give her. He pats his chest, searching for a gift. “I— I’m gonna give you…”

Looking down, a couple of dandelions sprouting out of the corner of the sandbox catches his eye. Mikey quickly picks them from the ground and presents them to her. He accidentally tore them out by the roots, stringy grass and dirt dangling from the flowers.

“Flowers! You’re supposed to give cute girls flowers!”

“You…think I’m cute?”

Before he can respond, Mikey notices a large clock face against the side of a neighboring building. It had already been a half-hour! Panicking, he shoves them into her hands before running away.

“GOODBYE!” He screeches.

Mikey peels out, sprinting back toward the direction of the manhole cover he emerged from. He stumbles and trips on the wood chips, accidentally getting some in his mouth.

“Blecch—!”

He scrambles up to continue his ungrateful exit, leaving the girl behind. She sits dumbfounded, staring at the bouquet of dandelions. A small blush colors her cheeks.

—

You smile to yourself, remembering the day you and Mikey first met.

You look over to him as the two of you stroll through the same park. A good number of years later, things were relatively unchanged. The playground had a couple of updates, some new equipment. Tonight’s destination, however, was the botanical gardens. Mikey insisted that you accompany him tonight, eager to show you the exhibits.

“And, why couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow again?” You ask.

“Because,” he skips ahead, giving you his signature gap-toothed smile. “There’s no one around at night!”

You fold your hands behind your back, winking at him. “So we’re breaking in.”

“No. We’re sneaking in.” He corrects.

Chuckling, you playfully shove him aside. “You just want an excuse to hang out with me alone, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, confidently walking forward. You hear Mikey sputter and cough, having seemingly been found out. He tries his best to cover up his bashfulness with a cool facade.

“W-What’s so wrong with some good-natured plant watching between friends? You need a little more culture in your life, and who better to provide it than me.”

Mikey places his thumb and forefinger on his chin, his eyes glinting under the dull moonlight.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” you scoff.

You didn’t consider yourself a particularly perceptive person. Especially when it came to matters of deciphering people’s intentions. But, Michael was unfortunately kind of an open book. He wore his heart on his sleeve, the poor guy.

Even a fool could see that he was head over heels for you. You’re not too sure if Mikey had always had a crush on you, but lately he had made quite an effort to shower you with attention. His texts were more frequent, sending you random online quizzes and songs that you just had to see. Mikey was always pretty touchy-feely with his family and friends, giving out plenty of hugs. He was a very physically intimate turtle, sometimes to your detriment.

“We’re here!”

His voice rips you from your thoughts and you glance up.

Before you stood a grand building, composed almost entirely of glass windows. The yard surrounding the gardens were almost a little more impressive, countless hedges and water features decorating the area.

Mikey slides up next to you, waggling his eyebrows. “Right?”

“Okay, this is pretty cool.” You smirk.

“I know. Allow me to razz my tazz…”

You watch as he backflips into the air and sticks to the exterior of the glass building. How did he do that, you wonder? Mikey feels around the glass panel, looking for the loose edge to wiggle himself into. He finally finds it, knocking his elbow against the window.

Suddenly, he slides in, letting out a surprised squawk. “WOAH—!”

You cringe hearing him fall through a number of limbs, leaves shaking and vines ripping from the impact. The jungle of foliage inside was dense, so you can’t really see where Mikey lands. You run up to the service door, waiting for him to give you some sort of signal.

“Oh, Michael? Are you dead?” You cup your hands together, calling out to him in a sing-song voice.

Pressing your face against the door, you strain your ears to listen closely. Silence. You click your tongue in annoyance.

“I’m gonna call Raph.” You slowly reach for your pocket.

Mikey slams his head against the other side of the door, his pleading face squished against the glass. “NO, DON’T!”

“AAAH—! Don’t jumpscare me like that!” You shriek.

Mikey quickly throws open the door before pulling you in by your shirt collar. Stumbling in, you nearly fall over. You huff indignantly while he lifts you back up on your feet. For such a little guy, he sure was strong.

“Falling for me already, eh?” He jokes.

You flick his nose. “In your dreams.”

He awkwardly snickers at you, feeling a little shy about his casual flirtation. Mikey didn’t know if he was coming off as cute or just creepy, unable to gauge your reaction. You were always a little more cool and collected than him, your quick wit and charm rivaling even Leo’s. It was humbling, even a little attractive. He follows you from behind like a love-sick puppy, desperate to impress you.

The two of you eventually walk into the center of the botanical garden and stand in awe of the plant life. Part of you wishes that Donnie was here to inform you both on each and every plant name, he was full of fun facts like that. But, you were happy just to have Mikey here to yourself. It was a good opportunity to test out a theory you had brewing in the back of your brain.

“So, what first?” You smile, turning to Mikey. “Lead the way.”

He gives you an even bigger smile, eager to have you on the hook. “Oh! There’s that one stink plant!”

He directs you to the right, walking ahead of you before stopping dead in his tracks. You peek your head over his shoulder, looking around curiously.

“What?”

“I, uh— I forgot we kinda made it into a mutant with a security guard.” He chuckles.

You stare at his face, looking all at once bashful and spacey. Smirking, you edge your head closer to his. You were usually pretty touch-averse, but maybe you could try being more physically intimate with him. Just to see what would happen.

“Maybe that’s for the best. I know you have a very sensitive nose,” you whisper.

Mikey covertly gulps, caught off guard by your sudden closeness and your low voice in his ear. “Let’s go look at the babbling brook! I think I can hear it…babbling!”

Spinning around, he grabs your hand and drags you along behind him.

You bite at your lower lip, entertained by his flustered behavior. You hated to admit it, but teasing Mikey was just too much fun. You hold his hand tighter.

“Aww, it’s like a tiny waterfall!” You gush, walking up to stand beside Mikey. “I wonder if there are any fish in here?”

Mikey shakily lets go of you, placing his hands on his hips. “There actually are. Lemme show you!”

You furrow your brows, watching Mikey step into the tiny river. The water led to a larger pond, lilly pads and other aquatic plants scattered about the surface.

“That’s probably a bad idea,” you warn. You follow him along the bank, careful not to step on any of the flowers.

“Relax. I’m a turtle, water is my natural habitat.”

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t Ornate box turtles drown really easily?”

He tosses his head at you, continuing to march forward. “That’s a myth.”

You fold your arms over your chest, meeting his cocky gaze with your unimpressed scowl.

“Let’s see…I think I saw a fish somewhere around here.” Mikey leans down, moving aside a lily pad to investigate. “Ah-hah! Told ya.”

He shoots back up, holding out an orange-spotted koi fish. It thrashed wildly in his grasp, flapping its tail against his hand.

Sighing, you walk closer to the edge of the pond. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“I’m putting it right back, okay? Chill—“

Suddenly, a whole army of koi fish swarm around Mikey’s feet in the water. They apparently did not take too kindly to his rude intrusion. You wordlessly watch on as Mikey got practically attacked by a dozen or so fish, their tails repeatedly slapping against his body.

“Woah, hey! Stop that! I’m not your enemy! AAA—!” Mikey tries to run out, lifting his legs high and shaking off a fish that had clamped its jaw onto his foot.

Your hands grip onto your arms in an attempt to stop yourself from laughing. But, as soon as you see Mikey fall into the water, you break. Cackling, you grab at your sides as Mikey pitifully splashed around in the pond.

“This is amazing!” You tease. “I’m sending this in the group chat.”

“Help me! I lied, I’m drowning!” Mikey screams, waving his limbs about.

You hold your phone out and start recording a video, chuckling. “The water’s barely a foot deep.”

The last koi fish gives Mikey a harsh slap across the face, leaving him behind to lie in the water. He looked utterly shocked and defeated.

Once you’ve gotten all the evidence you need, you stow your phone away and kick off your shoes and socks. You were cruel, but you weren’t that cruel.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough.” You roll up the cuffs of your pants and gingerly step into the pond, holding out your hand to Mikey.

Blinking up at you, he scowls. “I could have died back there.”

You purse your lips, resolving to just reach down and pull Mikey up by the edge of his plastron. “Serves you right for disrespecting the pond.”

As you lifted him out of the water, his body was stiff as a board. His face was still screwed into an exaggerated frown. You can’t help but chuckle again at him, wiping off some pond scum that had gotten stuck to his shell.

“What?” He pouts.

“You’re so cute when you look like that.” You pull Mikey out of the pond, peeking back at his offended expression.

“That’s totally not demeaning.”

Once you both get back onto the path, you give him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, okay? You just have a naturally cute face.”

Your hands drift up to land on Mikey’s face, gently squishing his cheeks. His eyes were still angry, but you could tell from his blush and his wavering frown that you were really testing his resolve. You knew he wasn’t really mad, just embarrassed. It only made him even more cute.

Mikey stared at you, using almost all of his willpower not to melt into your touch. You had never been so brazen, so comfortable with casually touching him like this. The cheeky way you were looking at him only made him more flustered. Clearing his throat, he dips out of your hold.

“The succulents are over here.”

Huffing, he marches away. You can only smirk to yourself as you follow behind. Maybe you were teasing him a little too much. You didn’t really care, though. With a pep in your step, you catch up to meet him at the desert flora section.

You saw a collection of cacti, some towering over your heads, others small and rotund. Mikey shakes off his growing nerves to present them to you.

“Behold, the pokey plants. As you can see, they are covered in pokey bits.”

Nodding, you sit your chin upon your fist. “Ah, yes. Very pokey indeed.”

The two of you nod to one another in mock-seriousness. You watch as Mikey begins to smile again, and you feel a little relieved. While you quite enjoyed seeing him playfully mad, you can’t deny that you miss seeing him happy.

Mikey quirks his head to the side, an idea knocking around in his head. “I wonder…”

You cock your head as well. “Wonder what?”

“Dare me to touch it?” He lifts a hand up toward a particularly sharp-looking cactus.

You shift your eyes from the plant and back to him, cautiously interested. “I won’t stop you.”

“I’m gonna do it,” he warns.

“Fine. See what happens.” You toss your hand over your shoulder, walking away. This was bound to end well.

Before you know it, you hear a loud crunching sound behind you. You twist around to find Mikey crumpled over the cactus’s broken trunk, absolutely covered in thorns. His eyes were as wide as saucers, almost in disbelief of his own actions.

“Michael!” You gasp. “I swear to god.”

Shuddering, he crawls out of the exhibit, moving through the pebbles that laid about. “Pain…I’m in pain.”

You turn your back to him, exasperated with his antics. “I’m not helping you.”

“Don’t need it. I’m perfectly capable of helping myself.” He stands, legs wobbling. He tries to grab at a large spine poking out of his forearm.

“Ow.” One thorn.

“Ow.” Another.

You grumble, listening to Mikey remove the spines one by one. This was just sad. You slowly turn around, watching as he stands there plucking at his arm. Sighing, you decide to be a little more merciful.

“You’re lucky you have that shell.”

You find a nearby bench and plant yourself on it. You pat your hand to the seat next to you, beckoning him to sit down. “Come here.”

Mikey quickly pads over to sit in front of you, swinging his legs around the bench. You follow suit and do a once-over. Thankfully, his legs were mostly unharmed, but his upper body and face were covered in barbs.

“What did we learn?” You sigh, carefully removing all of the larger spines.

Mikey tries holding back each cry of pain as you pluck them out, his eyes squeezing shut. “I wasn’t trying to throw myself into a cactus, you know. I just tripped.”

“That’s why are you covered in pokey bits?”

“I– Ouch!” He seethes, recoiling away from you. “I was trying to be cool, okay. Aren’t you impressed?”

Chuckling dryly, you move on to the smaller, more difficult barbs. You knew he was just trying to show off, even if it was kind of pathetic. Internally, you frown. No, he wasn’t pathetic. You somehow felt bad for even thinking that. It wasn’t like he was putting on airs, or being fake. He was actually pretty genuine.

“Not impressed. Just slightly concerned.”

Mikey sniffs, feeling a little disheartened with your reply. “Sorry.”

You flit your eyes up for a moment. “Why do you think you have to impress me? I already think you’re cool.”

He turns his head away slightly. “I don’t know? I just want to.”

Mikey was usually pretty good about verbalizing his emotional desires. But for some reason, he felt so confused.

After you pick out the last barb from his cheek, you toss them all away into the bushes. “There, all done.”

You were about to stand back up before you felt Mikey grab at your upper arm. You freeze, looking down at him.

“I just– Sometimes I feel like I need to show off. Show you that I’m cool and strong, I guess? I’m not super buff like Raph, or smooth like Leo. And I’m definitely not smart like Donnie.”

You move to sit back down, staring at him. You don’t know how to react to his sudden confession, simply opting to remain silent.

Mikey lifts his head to look you in the eye, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “I just want to make you feel safe.”

You frown. “You think I don’t feel safe?”

Shaking his head, Mikey bails on his own admission. “No, I don’t know. Nevermind.”

In an instant, you get an idea. You rummage around in your bag to pull out your old, worn sketchbook that you carried around everywhere. You leaf through the pages to land in the middle. “You recognize this?”

Mikey blinks away a tear that threatened to accumulate in his eye before looking over. “Your sketchbook?”

“No, this.” You reach in and pull out a couple of pressed flowers. They were shriveled and brown with age, but they were very clearly dandelions.

Mikey’s sad frown melts away as he leans forward. “Those are…”

“The flowers you gave me. When I first met you, I was actually kind of freaked out. I just remember thinking, ‘Why was this weird turtle harassing me?’” You allow yourself to smile, recalling the memory.

You hear Mikey chuckle quietly, his eyes softening.

“But, you were obviously just a huge dork. Sweet, but still a dork. I took those weeds you gave me and put them in here.”

You carefully place them back into your sketchbook, closing it. “I carried them with me all the time, so I wouldn’t feel so alone, y’know? If I ever felt scared, I would just clutch onto this and pretend you were there.”

Mikey sat up straighter, letting your soft words wrap him up into a warm blanket. He felt so safe, so secure in your presence.

“Thankfully, I didn’t have to do it too often. Because you were always there, somehow.”

Finally, you put your sketchbook back into your bag and look up. You give Mikey a lopsided smile, watching him look at you with quiet amazement. Reaching up, you place your hand upon his flushed cheek, bathing in his warmth.

Mikey was speechless. Words couldn’t begin to describe what he was feeling right now. He unintentionally allows his head to nuzzle up against your hand, practically sighing.

“You okay?”

“My skin kind of hurts.” His voice was oddly low, laced with a shy sweetness.

Leaning forward, you debate with yourself whether or not you want to tease him even more. He looked so vulnerable right now, you wouldn’t dare ruin a rare moment like this. Humming, you indulge yourself and decide to place a soft kiss upon his cheek. You didn’t want to scare him off.

Mikey’s skin tingles with excitement, electric sparks surging through his body. “Hahh…”

“Am I hurting you,” you whisper. You weren’t sure if he was hissing out in pleasure or in pain.

He immediately responds. “No, you feel really nice.”

Angling your head lower, you slot your lips gently against his. The kiss is chaste and short, but you feel your heartbeat thrum in your ears. The low light of the night sky illuminated the two of you, making Mikey’s skin practically glow. Moving an inch or two away, you admire his features.

Mikey sighs, his eyes fluttering open. You meet his soft gaze with your own. After a charged couple of seconds, the two of you break out into laughter. His head falls onto the bend of your shoulder, his breath heavy.

“I can’t believe you did that.” He exhales shakily.

“Pull out nearly a hundred cactus spines from your body? Yeah, I can’t believe it either.” You chuckle.

In a bold move, Mikey smiles against your neck before placing a kiss on your hot skin. You shudder, feeling his teeth brush up against your pulse.

“Woah-hoh-hoh! Ouch!” You tear yourself away, flapping your hands at his face. “Your teeth are sharper than I thought.”

Mikey gives you a cheeky smile, his tooth-gap on full display. “Sorry, I’m kinda pokey.”

He feels his heart swell in his chest, his limbs going limp and gooey. He wondered if he could even stand up. Seemingly reading his mind, you reach over and hook your arms underneath him. In an impressive move, you heave Mikey up and carry him bridal-style.

“H-Hey! What are you doing?” He cries out, blushing furiously.

“Carrying you back. Because I can,” you smirk.

Out of sheer embarrassment, Mikey covers his face. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I!”

And with that, you make your way back to the exit, giggling with Mikey as you bask in your newfound closeness. You hope that he felt safe with you, safe enough to let you into his heart just a little bit more.

#rottmnt x reader #mikey x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #michelangelo x reader #tmnt x reader #sfw #requests #this became a lot longer than i originally intended lol

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thesimulationswarm · 1 year ago

Text

Balsam Prelude and Chapter 1: Some Kind of Noble Calling

This is a story about trauma. What trauma does to a person, and what trauma does to a community. And how, in the midst of it, people find their way to joy, delight— even love.

Pairing: Joel Miller x original female character Summary: After the events of tlou, Joel and Ellie try to establish a “normal life” in Jackson, but neither of them are any good at normal. A town doctor tries to care for residents who have experienced unspeakable trauma, and struggles to overcome her own past at the same time. Joel finds himself drawn to her, as their lives become increasingly intertwined. Meanwhile, outside Jackson, troubling things are happening... Rating: explicit 18+ MDNI Word count: 6k Warnings: slow burn, I promise there will be smut but not yet, f/m relationship, not a reader insert, canon-typical violence, descriptions of medical situations, descriptions of trauma and PTSD, Ellie and Joel figuring out how to be family, Tommy and Joel figuring out how to be family, angst, fluff, based on show Jackson because I haven't played tlou part ii, this is the first fic I've been brave enough to put out in the world so be kind.

Series Masterlist

PRELUDE

The boy struggled to work the crowbar; his fingers were so cold he couldn’t really feel them and his grip kept slipping. Finally, though, the old wood splintered around the bolt latch and gave way. He pushed through the door of the shed and fell to the ground inside, spent.

The cold hurt. He was so tired. He’d gone past ordinary hunger, to that desperate place beyond. So now that he was out of the cutting wind, all he wanted was to go to sleep.

Coco had followed him in. She sniffed at the boy’s face, and he felt the warm breath on his skin for a brief, lovely moment. Then she padded away toward the back wall of the small room.

“Come back here, girl,” the boy called out. But she didn’t come back. Was she leaving him now, too? He just wanted to burry his face in her fur and smell her smell as he drifted off. If his father couldn’t be here with him, at least the dog he’d loved could.

He heard a brief, sharp bark. He lifted his head. Coco was sitting by a metal rack on the wall, pointing her nose at something on the second shelf.

“What is it, Coco?” She barked again, still pointing.

He moved slowly, regretfully, as he pulled his aching body up again. She was pointing at an old shoebox, and didn’t stir as he approached.

He brushed the cobwebs away and lifted the lid. It was full of small, dark brown packages. He lifted one close to his face, to examine it in the light coming through the open door.

MEAL, READY TO EAT, INDIVIDUAL, it read. CHICKEN A LA KING.

CHAPTER 1: Some Kind of Noble Calling

“You need to take her to Dr. Conner,” Maria said brusquely, as soon as she’d walked in the room. Ellie was curled listlessly on the couch, face flushed and mottled and hair slicked down with sweat.

“Dr. Conner? Where is he?” Joel asked.

“She is on 2nd street, top of the hill.”

He nodded and looked away from Maria’s icy face. Just what he needed, for her to add sexism to his list of sins. He squatted down to lift Ellie in his arms, held back a groan as his knees popped, and headed toward the door. He was always surprised at how little she weighed, given her sheer force of nature.

“I can walk. I’m not dead yet,” she whined at him hoarsely, squirming against his hold. It was half-hearted, and he kept his grip.

“Not happening.”

Dr. Connor’s was a narrow, two-story building, and the windows were covered with dark curtains. The sign above the door was painted simply with a red cross on a white background. He knocked but didn’t wait, yanking the doorknob and shouldering through the entryway.

Inside was bare, with a row of wooden chairs and a hand-written sign instructing visitors to take a seat. Two doors stood closed, and Joel was eyeing them to determine which he should open next when a breezy voice called from behind one.

“If you’re breathing and not bleeding out, hang on and I’ll be there in five.”

He sighed and set Ellie on a chair before dropping down beside her.

“Nicer than the FEDRA clinics at least,” Ellie deadpanned, her voice creaky and strained.

He looked around the little waiting room. It wasn’t exactly impressive, but if you’d only ever seen a QZ medical facility it must've seemed like the height of luxury.

“There used to be places like this. You got to see the doctor in a room by yourself instead of a big ward with half the neighborhood lined up.” He paused. “It was nice. Especially if you had somethin’ going on you didn’t want to share with everybody you knew.”

She quirked a sweaty eyebrow at him. “Like what?”

“Pass.”

They looked up in unison as a door creaked open and a woman strode in, dressed in jeans and a canvas apron. She was small, tawny-skinned and dark-haired. Younger than he’d expected, although not young-young on second inspection—the start of lines spreading out from the corners of her eyes, a resigned slope of her shoulders. In her 30s, maybe: the last generation to remember life before.

“Please, follow me.” The woman gestured into a small room with a bright overhead light. She pointed Ellie to a cot covered with a faded, flowered sheet and Joel to a stool beside it.

“I’m Nina, I work as a healer,” she said, extending a hand first to Ellie—who limply grasped it—and then to Joel.

He kept his arms down by his side.

“I thought you were an actual doctor,” he said sharply.

He didn’t come here for one of Maria’s communist friends to do some crystal healing, align Ellie’s chakras or some shit.

She gave him a small smile. “People call me that because I’m the closest Jackson has, and I’ve been treating people for years. But no, I’m not old enough to have finished medical school 20 years ago.” Her voice was mild, even friendly, but her eyes asked a question: Are you going to be a problem for me?

He set his jaw but sat back on the stool. He’d at least see if she could help.

“It’s Ellie, isn’t it?” Nina moved closer to Ellie and smiled brightly at her miserable face, looking her up and down. She pulled an old glass thermometer out of a pocket and held it up for Ellie to see before popping it in her mouth. While she waited for it to take a measurement, she slid her other hand down to grasp Ellie’s wrist and held it lightly, watching the numbers on her watch as she felt for a pulse.

“When did she start feeling bad?” She nodded her head slightly in Joel’s direction—Ellie had her mouth full—but kept her eyes on her patient.

“Two days ago. Hit her like a ton of bricks. She’s had fever and chills, and won’t eat anything. Barely takin’ sips of water when I beg her to.”

“Sore throat?”

“Says it feels like knives.” Ellie nodded bleakly to confirm.

The doctor—or the healer, or whatever the hell she was—pulled the thermometer out and nodded at it. She raised both hands to Ellie’s neck, but paused before touching her.

“I’m just going to feel here for your lymph nodes, Ellie.”

She waited to see confirmation in Ellie’s face before continuing, running her hands carefully down below her jawline.

The exam went on, through the familiar steps: Open your mouth as wide as you can, that’s good, now I’m going to check your ears.

He had a sudden, clear memory of sitting in the pediatrician’s office. Watching Sarah as she sat on a paper-covered table.

He could smell the disinfectant and powdered latex, and see the silhouette of her doctor standing there. He was a gray-haired man, always friendly in a fake-feeling way, who whore a crisp white coat over a shirt and tie. Made him feel self-conscious, looking down at his dirt-caked boots and browned forearms.

Sarah used to sit on that exam table and cry when she had to get shots. Not all hysterical or fighting to get away like some kids—just silent tears that slipped out of the corner of her eyes.

He remembered how, when she was five years old, she’d swallowed a penny and he’d rushed her over to the clinic. It wasn’t like her to do something like that: she was thoughtful and sweet even at that age, a rule-follower to a fault. His heart had jackhammered in his chest as he had visions of her intestines puncturing or her being rushed to emergency surgery.

The doc explained patiently that these things usually “passed” on their own. With a little chuckle he gave him a plastic bowl that fit inside the toilet and instructions to check it for the next week to make sure the penny came out the other end.

He recalled the rush of relief and the flush of embarrassment. Watching the doc laugh and feeling like a moron for having gotten himself so worked up.

“Earth to Joel,” Ellie croaked. He turned to see two pairs of eyes on his: Ellie’s red-rimmed and liquid brown, the doctor’s—he was now noticing— so dark they were almost black.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Most likely it’s strep throat, although there’s no way to tell for sure without tests I don’t have,” the doctor said. “I’ll give you some antibiotics, and if it is strep, it will start to get better right away.”

“What if it’s not strep?” Joel asked, heart in his throat.

She smiled. “Then it’s a virus, and she’ll get better on her own.” Her tone was reassuringly confident. Joel watched her disappear briefly out the door, then return with a paper packet she pressed into his hand.

“Take these twice a day. Even if she starts to feel better, do not stop the medicine until it’s all gone. I know we’re all used to stretching supplies, but it doesn’t work that way with antibiotics—she’ll get sick again, and worse.” She looked to him for acknowledgement, and he nodded.

“Keep pushing her to drink fluids.” She turned to Ellie now, who was hunched over and looked about ready to pass out. “You’re dehydrated, kiddo. It’s part of why you feel so bad right now. If you don’t drink, it’s only going to get worse.” She spoke pointedly but gently, and Ellie shrugged an assent. “And if you aren’t feeling better in two days, come back and see me.”

It was late when Tommy got home. Pretty much every part of his body hurt after the day’s work— fixing freeze damage to their well system— and he had been dreaming of crawling into bed with Maria.

Not the way he sometimes dreamed of crawling into bed with her, even now with her looking like she’d swallowed a watermelon. Maybe he’d have the energy for that in the morning, but tonight he just wanted to feel her in his arms and time his deep slow breaths with hers.

She was already fast asleep, so he moved as carefully as he could, lifting up the covers and sidling in behind her. She was curled on her left side and he tucked his body tightly against hers, his arm snaking gently around her bare belly. When he was lucky he could feel the baby kicking against his hand in this position, although right now both baby and mama were at rest.

He lay there, willing himself to relax into sleep. But there was too damn much on his mind these days.

This winter had been brutal, even for Wyoming. The town had held together with a lot of hard work and ingenuity. But out there in the countryside, others had not been so successful. He’d heard awful stories: starvation, cannibalism, raiding parties far and wide. The patrols kept running into trouble, and although so far the groups had been small enough to handle, who was to say they’d stay that way?

Tommy knew that people in Jackson looked to him and Maria to keep them safe. It was more responsibility than he’d ever had before in his life, really. He was proud of himself— and scared shitless.

He breathed in Maria’s smell, nose pressed against the nape of her neck. He tried to count all the blessings in his life, savoring each one. It was a trick he used sometimes, to make his thoughts shut up. This incredible woman who had saved his life. The baby she was growing for them. This town. A full stomach. A warm bed. Joel doing so good, for once, with that kid of his.

Although Joel was maybe not the best topic to think about, if he wanted to sleep tonight. Not that he wasn’t grateful, or happy to have him nearby and safe. But his feelings were complicated. Sometimes he hated to admit how much of a hold his big brother still had on him. Made him feel like a little boy, hungry for approval. And at the same time reminded him of the lowest points in his life.

If he was honest with himself, he’d felt a lot of relief along with the guilt and sadness when he’d left Boston. He’d felt the same when he cut off radio contact.

Something had changed with Joel though, lately. He was still a bitter man, tightly wound and full of pain. But Tommy had seen moments of tenderness from him that he thought he’d never see again. Even moments of joy.

He felt the prickle of tears in his tired eyes. He knew he was being naive, that a little bit of good couldn’t undo all the darkness that they’d been through. But he clung to the hope still, as he started to drift off to sleep: him with his baby, Joel with his girl—maybe they would all be okay.

“Tommy!”

He turned with a smile as the doc walked up, clapping a hand against his back. “Hey Dr. Connor! How’s it been?”

“I’m going on your next southwest patrol,” she said. Announcing, not asking, as she had a frustrating tendency to do.

He took a sharp breath through his nose. “Nina—“

“It’s time to harvest willow bark. I need enough for the next year, for all of Jackson.”

“I understand, I really do. But this winter has been rough and people are desperate. We’ve had some kind of trouble almost every patrol. It’s just too dangerous to stop and hang around out there.” He used the most authoritative tone he could muster, trying to stare the small woman down.

“And people won’t be any less desperate until we’re well into April. By then the trees will be in full leaf and we’ll be out of the window for harvesting. And I’ll have half a dozen angry locals wanting to know why I don’t have the tea for their arthritis or their heart condition.”

She fixed him with a dark stare, and he fiddled with the frayed edge of his jacket cuff.

She knew how Jackson worked, and if he said no she could and would bring it up at the council meeting. Where she would no doubt whip up the town’s crotchetiest and most infirm—who had nothing better to do than sit in on every meeting of every committee—into a rage over herbal tea. Shit.

He nodded curtly. “Friday at dawn. If there are any signs of trouble before we hit the riverbank, we’ll have to turn back.”

“I really appreciate it Tommy,” she said with what she surely thought was a winning smile. Which he did not return: he was not in the mood.

Marisa stirred the stockpot of oatmeal gently between customers, to keep crust from forming on top. She stared out at the dining room and watched the clusters of people. Some were deep in conversation; some wolfed down their breakfasts so they could hurry on with their days; others looked half-asleep still.

A group of teenagers were tucked way back in the corner, as far as they could get from the adults, clearly enjoying their morning bullshit session. She remembered doing that just a few years ago, with Anya and Jamal, when her dad wasn’t around to see her goofing off. He believed that if teenagers had energy to run their jaws, they had energy to work.

The new folks came in with a blast of cold air.

They were an odd pair. The girl was rude and mouthed off too much, but she had a lot of energy and seemed like fun. The kind of kid Marisa had always been fascinated by, when she was that age. Wishing she could move in the world with that kind of confidence.

The man, though, gave her the willies. He was intense and stern, like her dad. He never smiled, although he did at least say please and thank you. She couldn’t hardly believe he was Tommy’s brother. Tommy was his exact opposite, gentle and friendly.

She used to think Tommy was cute. She still did, really, but she didn’t think about him much lately. She was too busy daydreaming about her Beloved.

She called him that after an old romance book she’d found in an empty house and hidden under her mattress. The book took place during the Civil War, and the buxom narrator fell in love with a dashing soldier. She wrote letters to him every day, addressed to My Beloved. The soldier in the book had beautiful blue eyes, just like Marisa’s Beloved.

Tommy was out there now, talking with Dr. Connor. He looked unhappy. Dr. Connor could do that to people. She was always so nice when you were sick or hurt and went to see her. But out in the real world she could be mean as a snake. Or maybe she was more like a fox: someone sly, someone you had to watch.

Brandy Burkholder had started working with her last summer, after a several month campaign. Nina had eventually determined that she was serious about learning to practice medicine, despite the fact that she wasn’t terribly serious about anything else. She was an outgoing sixteen-year-old with a pretty smile and a flare for the dramatic, and she came by on Tuesdays and Thursdays to help Nina with various tasks.

Today it was supply inventory. Every other week she went through what she had, checked her levels on common medications and herbs, and looked through her equipment for signs of damage or wear.

Nina enjoyed inventory, even if what she had to inventory was often pathetic. There was something calming about lining up all the bottles, looking over her orderly shelves, and counting all the pills and needles and rolls of gauze.

And there was some extra excitement this afternoon: they were going through a bag of random medicines and gear to see what could be salvaged. Anya and Clemons had found in an empty house on a hunting trip earlier that week.

Brandy held up an orange plastic bottle of pills from the haul. “Dox—y—cy—cline,” she sounded out carefully. “That’s an antibiotic, right? So it goes in the cabinet above the sink?”

“Hold up. What’s the date on the bottle?”

“Um, let me see.” She squinted to read the fading print. “Damn. It’s from 1999. This is an antique!”

Nina shook her head. “Toss it. Expired tetracyclines can be toxic.” It was a shame— she really could have used it.

She pulled out a bottle of Benadryl tablets, and pried open the lid. Some of the pills had swollen with absorbed moisture and cracked, but they were mostly intact and there was no mold. She added it to the keep pile.

Brandy showed her a box of individually packaged 22 gauge needles. The plastic wrappers were warped and brittle and had cracked open along the seams. But the needles inside were straight and sharp. She would sanitize them in the autoclave and they’d be good as new. Another keep.

A bottle of cough syrup had hardened to a shiny paste— toss. Two inhalers were empty—toss again. Half a tub of vaseline went in the keep pile. Then she found something really good at the bottom of the bag: an almost-full bottle of Valium.

“Isn’t this the stuff that bored housewives used to get high on?” Brandy asked, smirking.

“Yes, and that’s why it goes in the locked cabinet,” Nina said pointedly. She didn’t need Brandy getting any ideas. “But more importantly, it’s the best treatment when someone’s actively having a seizure. It’s also very helpful for setting bones.”

“Sweet! There was some good loot in that bag.”

Nina looked over the shelves appraisingly. “Yes, but it’s not enough. This all has to last until Mo comes by in April.”

“Are you going out to meet him?” Brandy’s eyes sparkled at the mention of the smuggler. Nina knew how people talked about him: the dashing Robin Hood who stole from FEDRA and gave to the people. But it’s not like he gave them anything: they paid him, in valuable farm goods like butter and honey, for every last thing.

Nina didn’t say anything about that to Brandy, though; let the kid have her fantasies. She also didn’t mention the fear that kept her up at night— that next time she went out to meet Mo, he wouldn’t show. She knew it was only a matter of time before his line of work caught up with him, and that when it happened they would be shit out of luck. Jackson did a lot of things well, but manufacturing antibiotics wasn’t one of them.

“Yep, April ninth. Three weeks after the equinox,” was all she said.

The sun was melting into the horizon, bathing the street in golden light and purple shadows. Joel was walking to the saddler when he saw the woman up ahead and quickened his pace.

“Hey! Dr. Connor!”

She turned as he approached and raised an eyebrow. “So I’m enough of a doctor for you now? How’s Ellie?”

“Well, she’s a hundred percent better. Givin’ me shit and drivin’ me crazy.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” The doctor seemed genuinely pleased. “I’m sure you deserve whatever shit she’s giving you,” she added.

“Look,” he said, furrowing his brow. “I wasn’t very fair to you the other day. And you helped us out anyway. I appreciate that.”

She looked at him, meeting his eyes with an intensity that startled him. There were those deep brown irises he’d noticed in her office, framed by thick black lashes.

Then she smiled, holding out her hand to him. Her grip was surprisingly firm as they shook. “You’re not the first person to doubt my expertise. I appreciate you putting your daughter in my care.”

He looked over her shoulder, at the reddish sky reflecting in the window of a supply depot, and took a breath. “I know people don’t pay for things here or anything, but I feel like—I mean, I would like to give you something at least. For the medicine.”

She waved dismissively. “I’ve seen you go out on patrol. You keep Jackson safe, I keep Jackson alive. We all do our part.”

She laid a hand on his stiff shoulder and gave him a pat. Then she turned and headed back in the direction she’d been walking, before he could figure out how he ought to respond. He watched her for a moment, her dark curls swinging over a denim jacket, his shoulder tingling with a phantom pressure where her hand had been a moment ago.

Jackson made him real fucking uncomfortable, sometimes.

He didn’t like owing people favors, and he didn’t feel like he belonged in a town where everyone was so nice all the time. The doctor was case in point— he’d been mean to her when they’d first met, and that hadn’t been right. But he’d tried to be nice to her too now, and it still felt weird as hell. Maybe he’d entirely forgotten how to be nice.

He walked on, hands shoved in his pockets. If he was honest, he didn’t want to be living here. In the house across from his little brother, like some kind of post-apocalyptic sitcom. It brought back all kinds of things he didn’t want to think about.

He was going on patrol Friday and he was looking forward to it. At least out there he knew what to do with himself. Stay alert, keep moving, assess the situation, maintain control— with force if needed.

Ellie looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, then quickly opened the door below the red cross and slipped inside. She sighed with relief to see no one inside the waiting room, and sat down with her backpack clutched to her chest.

Dr. Connor stepped into the room, thankfully alone, and smiled warmly as she pointed Ellie toward a door. Ellie darted in and jumped up on the cot, then looked down at her sneakers. One had a bit of rubber starting to come loose around the toe, and she gently wiggled it with her other foot. She heard Dr. Connor close the door behind her, and then the expectant silence.

“How can I help you today, Ellie?”

Her cheeks burned, and she found she couldn’t look up. Why did the town doctor have to be beautiful? For an old person, but still. She kept studying her feet, as she heard the scrape of a chair being pulled over and the soft thump of Dr. Connor sitting down a few feet away.

When the doctor spoke again, her voice was soft. “I’ll ask you a few questions. All you have to do is say yes or no. You don’t even have to speak, just shake your head. Okay?” Ellie exhaled, then nodded.

“Did someone hurt you?” Ellie shook her head no emphatically.

“Are you having a problem with a private part of your body?” Ellie paused, then nodded once.

“Is it your related to your period?” Head shake. “Are you having pain?” Head shake. “Itchiness?” Nod. “Discharge?” Ellie felt like her cheeks were going to catch on fire as she nodded again.

“Are you sexually active?”

“No!” Ellie shouted, looking up at Dr. Connor with a startled stare.

“It would be okay if you were. You wouldn’t be in trouble. And I wouldn’t tell anyone—not even Joel.” Her voice was even and conversational, as if she were talking about the weather and not about fucking.

“Well, I’m not,” she snapped. “I don’t know why this is happening. It’s never done this before.”

“Have you ever taken antibiotics before?”

She thought for a moment. At FEDRA school they gave you pills sometimes if you were sick, but they never even told you what they were. Some of the kids said they were sugar pills, and some of the kids said they were tranquilizers designed to make you behave. She shrugged. “I don’t actually know.”

“Did your symptoms start after you began taking the pills?” Ellie nodded.

“I’ll want to do a quick exam to be sure, but yeast infections can be a side effect of antibiotics. Your vulva actually has a lot of bacteria living in it—good bacteria.” Ellie raised her eyebrows and fixed the doctor with a horrified look, but she ignored her and went on speaking.

“It’s like a garden with lots of different plants growing side by side. The plants are healthy, and there are enough of them that they fill up the space and keep the weeds out. The antibiotic got rid of the bad bacteria in your throat, but it also wiped out the good bacteria in your vulva. It’s like we picked all the good stuff from that garden, and now there’s good soil and plenty of space for bad stuff to grow. That’s allowed the yeast to take over—it’s actually a fungus.”

“Like cordyceps?” Ellie asked, eyes widening.

“Yes, like cordyceps. But it’s a different species, and unlike cordyceps we have medication that will kill the yeast. You’ll be back to normal in no time.” Ellie felt relief wash over her.

Wednesday morning was for house calls. As she left the dining hall, her supply bag bouncing heavily against her left hip, she ran into Ellie and Joel on their way in. The girl smiled sheepishly and looked away; the man twitched a corner of his mouth and held the door for her. Which for gruff types like that, new to civilization, was as good as a pledge of everlasting fealty.

She watched her breath fog through the cold March morning as she walked, feeling vaguely anxious.

Miss Nora’s house was on the corner, a low redbrick ranch. She let herself in, knowing Miss Nora’s son was out prepping the fields for planting, and headed into the living room that doubled as Miss Nora’s bedroom these days. She was sitting up in her bed, carefully knitting a big orange sweater. “Dr. Connor! So good of you to come by.”

Nina leaned in, letting Miss Nora plant a papery kiss on her cheek. “You know you can call me Nina,” she said, pulling her stethoscope out of her bag and sitting on the edge of the mattress.

She gave her brightest smile, trying to hide any trace of the dismay she felt every time she walked in there. Miss Nora was 67, and until last fall had looked a decade younger than that. Now every week she seems to age another 5 years, her face growing gaunter, her hair thinner, her skin more sallow.

Her son Jamal, ever diligent, tried to tempt her with all her favorite foods, but she would push the plate away after a bite or two. He fought with her over it, convinced that if she would just force herself to eat she would regain her strength.

Nina, on the other hand, was not so optimistic. She thought Miss Nora’s body was shutting down: the lack of appetite was only a symptom of something much more serious.

She suspected cancer, but couldn’t say for sure what kind. Obviously, it was affecting the liver or the common bile duct, based on her yellowing eyes and skin. But that could be a metastasis from a solid tumor somewhere else. She once again felt the woman’s abdomen gently, palpating for a mass. Still nothing. Not that it mattered, ultimately—even if she could magically intuit that it was, say, pancreatic cancer, she wouldn’t be any closer to being able to treat it.

At least her lungs still sounded clear. Nina pulled the stethoscope from her ears and slung it around her neck. “Are you ready for your breathing treatment?”

The woman nodded enthusiastically as Nina carefully packed the pipe she’d brought with dried leaves.

It was old, crumbly, and low quality, and it was hell to get ahold of. But like the opium she kept carefully hidden away in her locked cabinet, marijuana was one of the more potent herbal medicines in her arsenal.

She had nothing else to offer Miss Nora.

She saved Maria for her last stop of the morning. Maria could have easily come to her clinic, even 7 months along, but Nina wanted to confer with her anyways. And she loved Maria’s house—with the late morning light pouring through the windows she could almost believe she was in the suburbs of her childhood.

Maria was making tea when she arrived, and they sat in the living room with a mug each. The steam felt good against her face—while they were out of the worst of the winter, the wind was still brutal on these mornings as she walked from house to house.

After a little small talk she eased Maria backwards on the couch and pulled out her Pinard horn, rolling it between her palms for warmth. Nina had carved it herself out of maple wood, shaping the little trumpet painstakingly to match the illustrations in an old midwifery book.

She could still remember the sense of triumph when, years ago, she first pressed it into a woman’s belly and heard the fetal heartbeat buried inside. People thought medicine was some kind of noble calling—and there were moments when it felt that way to her, too. But more often she was driven by that magic feeling of the body yielding up its secrets to her.

Everything looked good on the exam, despite Maria’s “advanced maternal age.” The same as it had been every week of her pregnancy so far.

Still, Nina worried.

There was a lot that could go wrong bringing a baby into the world, for both baby and mother. Maria was her friend, and she knew how devastated she would be if she lost the child. She also knew how much Maria meant to Jackson, and she worried about the impact of losing Maria even more.

“I’d like your thoughts on something.”

Maria fixed her with one of her looks. “It’s usually not something good when you say that.”

Nina sighed. “I had a patient come in yesterday with what was almost certainly the clap. I treated him, but the man in question was married, and I have reason to believe he didn’t get it from his wife.”

Maria’s brow shot up. “Jesus, Nina. That’s not something I want to know about.”

“I would rather not have to know about it either. But we need to know about it. Both women he’s sleeping with could have infections.”

Maria’s expression hardened as she listened.

“And if the women have other partners, who knows how many people in Jackson are affected? Gonorrhea isn’t just a drippy dick. People could have pelvic inflammatory disease, ectopic pregnancies, miscarriages. Babies can be born with infections.”

“Do you know who the other woman is? You could treat her, too,” Maria offered.

“I… have my suspicions. But I’m not 100%. And he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

She thought about Derek Starkey sitting in her clinic, head buried in his hands. Starkey’s wife, Jenna, had given birth to their first kid last summer. They’d always made a beautiful couple: Starkey was a big guy, tall and broad, with ruddy cheeks and icy blue eyes. Jenna was tough and sweet, with a blonde ponytail and freckles across the bridge of her nose. The son they doted on took after them both, depending on the day.

She was inclined to hate Starkey’s guts.

A guy who couldn’t take it when his wife wasn’t dressing up as prettily as she used to or wasn’t as available as she once was to him, because she was busy caring for his infant child. Marisa Robinson, who worked with Starkey in the kitchens when he wasn’t on patrol, was younger and needy and made puppy dog eyes at him while he kneaded dough with his big strong arms. It was a tale as old as time: another shitty man behaves badly.

She struggled to hold onto her resolve, though, as they spoke. Starkey’d been barely sleeping since the kid was born. Every night in bed he was flooded with images of terrible deaths. He saw his child infected, shot, decapitated, drowned. All those monstrous things he’d seen over the years and had been powerless to stop, and which he now felt powerless to protect his beautiful boy from. Life in Jackson had given him a measure of peace, which had seemed like enough when it was just him and Jenna. But it felt too horribly tenuous now to trust. And Jenna didn’t get it. She slept like a rock between feedings. She told him to get over himself, had no time to talk him down from his panic attacks. Someone else had been willing to hold him while he shook with fear.

“Then we have to tell the wife, at least.”

Nina shook her head. “I keep going back and forth on it. It might break up a marriage, and that could have reverberations throughout the community. And the other woman, there could be consequences for her, too.” She thought of Marisa’s controlling father, who always creeped her out.

“But also the next time someone has symptoms like this they might not come to me, because I wouldn’t be a safe person to tell. Then this stuff would spread around town and we wouldn’t even know.”

Maria gave her an exasperated look.

Nina wasn’t sure what she had expected. It would feel so nice to off-load this problem onto Maria. But her friend was maybe too absolutist to navigate this one. Or else there just was no way to resolve things that would feel right.

“I’m going to have to think on it some more,” she said, as she packed her supplies. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

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