#the whole arch could have been cool and awesome

[hellsbellssinclub]

Laura Kinney- Talon.

AU under the drop

An AU where Synch dies early in the Vault and there is no relationship:

Laura is left alone. For years and years after the death of her comrades and friends. She is bitter, angry and alone. She stays sane by remembering her family, her little sisters, her big brother (whom she is now older than) her father (who she too now has grown older than in ways that she did not want to think about) and those she called friends.

She hates she did not get to explore those feelings that were starting to grow in her for Synch, as absences does not make the heart fonder when she is fighting for her life alone. She hates that the world outside this place turns on and on without her.

She almost gives up hope that she would ever leave when she is finally saved. Saved and returned home. To her little sister. To their little house. To safety and peace.

Only, she finds her home empty. No little sister to greet her. No pet wolverine eating her furniture. Her brother is away. Her father awkward and avoiding her.

And a woman with her face and memories left to her explain what had happened while she was trapped alone.

The woman, her clone. Her replacement. He perfect copy.

She had been born from the Five. When she, the real (is she real? Now that there is a copy of her) Laura and her team failed to meet their check in the worst was assumed and they were brought back, the way all dead are here on this paradise island. This Laura before her has all of Laura’s memories before the Vault. All of her horrors and best qualities. Everything that has ever made her, her.

Laura cannot blame the young Laura for living her life, while she was trapped in that hell. The whole protocol was in place for a reason. She (this young Laura) was supposed to be here.

Laura herself was now an oddity in the world. Not the oddest thing to ever happen, but it does not matter in the end. She is happy to have two of herself, in the end. She has grown so, so much in her time in the vault. Having so much time on her hands have her the chance to grow past her traumas. To heal from them. Absence does not make the heart fonder but it does make it easier to forget what had been done with her.

All she really wants is her family together again.

The copy, the young Laura whose green eyes were pinched in pain, explains why the house was empty.

Gabby was dead. Murdered while is the supposed safety of their little island. She may heal, but even those who can heal like their family can die.

And that is what happened to Gabby. And unlike everyone else, Gabby was a clone. And Clones were not allowed to come back. The Five refused to create a precedent where clones are be brought back, least the likes of Jean Greys clone comes back.

Jonathan the wolverine was no longer in their home, he spent all his time at the location where Gabby died. Guarding the area as there was no body to be buried. The Five had cremated her. So that Sinister could not use her body material to do whatever evil science he does.

Her heart is hardened. It was a broken little thing that she had been slowly healing before she had gone into the vault. Gabby had been the reason she had been healing. She was a light in the darkness that was the life of Laura Kinney.

The young Laura breaks down in her arms, telling her even more bad news. Bellona was missing, presumed dead. There was a mass breakout in the shield holding cells where Bellona was being kept. The area of Bellona’s cell was had been destroyed, her blood was on the floor but no body had been recovered.

Laura had been trying ever since Bellona had been arrested to have her released. To have her sister returned to her. Tried and failed time and time again. There was always a reason as to why they could not release her. Or exonerated her. And the X-Men and Council would not allow her to risk their nation for a Clone, even her own.

She-Hulk had taken the case for her but had been road blocked time and time again. She was supposed to go and see her, after finishing this mission in the vault. So they could come up with a new plan.

And now it seems that everything she has done has failed. Her little sisters are dead or presumed dead. Her brother is in the wind, on a mission she is told, lied to. Her father will not meet her eyes.

And her little copy, her little Laura, is offering to kill herself so that she does not have to deal with having a useless clone around.

With a heavy heart and anger mixed darkly with love, Laura takes her little clones hands and vowed to protect her. Names her the real Laura. Says that the name gifted to her, to them by their mother is no longer she holds close to her heart.

She names herself Talon. And she begins to plan.

There were other ways to bring people back from the dead, than what the Five can do.

Zelda. Gabby. That girl in Paris, who Gabby would never tell her the name of.

She would bring them back.

She will find a way.

And Bellona? Well, missing and presumed dead does not mean dead.

Talon will find her sister. And if she was dead, truely dead, then she will be brought back too.

Akihiro… she will track down what had happen to him and get him on board with her plans too. He will help. Or he will keep out of her way.

Her little Laura looked like she could use a mission to keep her mind focused. She was happy that her little copy had found a friend in Jublee, like she had once upon a time. But she knew herself, a mission, one that meant something would make her feel better.

(She would ignore her father for now. There was much she needed to speak to him about but those she has sent years thinking of it she does not know if she is ready to say it)

Talon was a hunter. She will hunt down a way to bring back her sisters.

She did not paradise. She just wanted her family.

And Talon had vowed to herself, while in the loneliness of the vault, that she will never deny herself what she wants.

Art made with pencil, fine liner on paper

[latibulater]

i love think tank honestly i think he would have been better than a one-episode arch like his design? first of all is so fun. love his hover chair! love having another huge-head character (i wonder if billy knows of him at all). he such an emotive guy

he seems to really love teaching his non-interested students, and it's honestly very sweet imo how he reaches out to dean and suggests he avoid the tower during the time of his father's arch, and i mean you could interpret it as him saving his own reputation, but i think it's because he doesn't wish for dean to be harmed. and its funny and genuine to me the way he says to dean the essay is shit but he is one of the best students of the semester. ik when i went from home school to real school i struggled hard at first with writing papers, so i wonder if dean is the same like he's enjoying the class and is kind of grasping the concepts but he is plagiarizing by accident and has lots of run-on sentences (like this one). but it's sweet that nidaba still calls dean "one of the brightest" (even if you interpret this to be buttering up which i do not)

and he seems to be a moriarty without a sherlock from this little scene where he deducts dean's home life from different clues. i like that he says "i interpret the data" because that's much less wishy-washy then bbc sherlock. he's so handsome here genuinely

and his nietzsche quote "all great things must first wear terrifying and monstrous masks in order to inscribe themselves on the hearts of humanity." honestly is so relavent to the show and the way he is so exasperated no one knew that. professor dr. nidaba, i swear you just need a tumblr girlie in your class.

the tank just goes up? the wall?

imminent doom detected

i love how he gestures with the tank...nozzle(?) like the machine is really an adapted living device. and literally he has this awesome killer entrance to set up some chess like he literally just wants a nice game night

i feel so bad for him look

sweetheart 😭 his whole plan for the evening just got blown up like that wall. i feel so bad for him his little "who are you calling" like he's gotten in trouble 😭😭😭

but brock will play!!!! he's so excited now

and he can create a force field??? thats literally so cool. this scene with brocks arm is so funny like brock is acting a little unhinged but think tank is literally so bewildered

and who else got flirty undertones from this

and this was such a great scene him getting shot out the window while rusty's getting scammed by watch&ward. and then when warriana called think tank a "pompous son of a gorgon" a) love the insult b) their previous fights mustve been so funny think tank would use a lot of greek myth references and warriana would be like SHUT UPPPP *kicks him across the street*

look brock had so much fun with this fight and nidaba, while annoyed by warriana busting in, i think enjoyed it too! also i like this pic of him with just the undersuit.

i feel so bad for him he literally got his night fucked up by rusty's annoying silly ass and then got beat up by someone not even supposed to be there and now he's just trying to hail a cab bc his tank got trashed and then he gets WRECKED by a VAN. and what's this? stars n garters literally singing at nidaba's bedside?????

i loved this scene so much its so silly and off-beat, i love knowing that think tank's colleague/arch-rival cares enough about him to lug a guitar down to the hospital while nidaba's unconscious. WHY COULDNT WE HAVE HAD THINK TANK IN COMA TOWN?!

anyways thats about it :^) i just think it's a shame hammer&publick didn't develop or bring back think tank he's such a great and underrated character. also he doesn't even have a first name like wtf!!! i'm naming him dr. nathan (not nate!) nidaba

[threeeyesslitthroat]

Critiques on PJO Show, Summarized as succinctly as possible.

Disclaimer: feel free to come at me if you disagree.

EPISODE ONE... was mostly fine, did a good job making me realize how fucking scary the concept of the Mist actually is, dulled down Gabe Ugliano way down, did something cute with Mythomagic, made a benign and weird decision to insinuate that Percy was considered to be schizophrenic alongside diagnosed ADHD and Dyslexia, skipped out on his previous wacky and unsettling adventures (destroyed a school bus, almost drowned his classmates in a shark tank in the aquarium, accidently) and had a great fight with the Minotaur(the tighty whitey's were stupid tho.) Unfortunately, Episode one foreshadowed that the show was way to into killing tension and not letting it build.

EPISODE TWO...was also fine. Was personally disappointed that Dionysus did not threaten Percy by making him see visions of men going mad and being strangled with vines, but that is 2000% my disappointment, not on the show, (tho I could make the argument why its on the show as a n adaptation.) the introduction of Luke and Annabeth and Clarisse was great. the Camp Half blood set could've been cooler but they'll build on it, (I hope) I'm not particularly disappointed by the removing the tension in the camp while he was staying there or that no one took a knee when he was claimed. Tho I would have appreciated it greatly if the show had nailed the "Oh Fuck" reaction when Percy did get claimed. unfortunately, we spend only one episode that gives a rough summary of what it was like to actually be there.

*unfortunately we really only get The Lightning Thief and The Sea of Monsters to really introduce and get the reader to settle into Camp Halfblood, which means that one season got bungled already

EPISODE THREE...Started to show a few more cracks but was mostly fine. we didnt get to see the bus blow up properly, but okay, they're off the bus now. its cool. Thalia got name dropped. The Show destroyed any and all tension with the team having encountered Medusa's lair by not even letting them slowly figure out just what they walked into. Frankly, this is where I get a little angry, because Riordan wrote one fucking factor built in that wouldn't have allowed our main trio from discovering Medusa immediately. The FUCKING MIST. IT works on Demigods. Our main characters could have been tricked, but apparently Annabeth is too smart. Motherfucker anyone who has read a fucking picture book of greek mythology would know who Medusa is and what her modus operandi is OH I wonder What all these realistic concrete statues of people and MONsters AND NYmphs SIGNIFY YOU FUCKER-

but yeah whatever. Other than that one legitimate critique that I would defend in court this episode was fine, wasn't that impressed with the depiction of Medusa but whatever, great job everyone, I got One reason to fist fight Riordan now.

EPISODE FOUR.....…. Made Me So FUCKING ANGRY LIKE TYOU WOULDNT BELIEVE-

Did it do anything good? St Louis Arch being a modern day Temple was cool. AS an IDEA. Execution was piss bad. ill explain in two seconds. Annabeth and Grover trying to cure Percy with the splish splash was cute. Percy tricking Annabeth was great. Teaching younger viewers that all cops are cunts was awesome. Scobell's underwater acting was cool

Episode Four's list of Crimes are: Disrespecting Thalia Grace before she even has been properly introduced to the audience. Was insulting. don't do it again. Annabeth's understanding of her own mom was sketchy when I first watched it but I was going to let it slide and move on if it wasn't for the bullshit after. The whole conversation with Echidna was a big waste of my fucking time. Fuck all of you. The grand escape from Echidna and her unrevealed creature withering down to our trio WALKING FUCKING WALKING- I hate all of you. The Design of the Chimera. Fuck everyone and everything that is not the fucking Chimera.

Athena being depicted as someone who would punish her own daughter for shit she didn't even do^3 (Percy signed the fucking box, Annabeth isn't the fucking leader of the quest, Athena is the goddess of wisdom, this trio is the best chance of preventing war, its outright stupid to make them die) and withdrawing her protection to let her demigod daughter die...Riordan I'm beating your ass for three rounds. I will drag your ass out of your bed and beat your ass in your own drive way.

Why does this shit make me so mad, You Aren't Asking? I'm glad your not. Not even in Greek Mythology itself is it even the gods MO to make an effort for their Kids to die. if they got killed fair game but to withdraw protection, they didn't fucking do that. Also, if Riordan had wrote this out in any of his novels the story would have been wrenched hard at the really intense repercussions of a god engineering for their child TO DIE.

oh yeah the whole just breathe thing...yeah its fine. not that cool but it was fine.

EPISODE FIVE...yeah it was fine. I wasn't looking forward to the whole Tunnel o' love thing because I didn't particularly enjoy it in the novel but I was pleasantly surprised. the lack of Spiders was okay. the depiction of Ares was okay. I enjoyed the actor. but I do like how Grover faced Ares off cause that shit was really great. Annabeth's rant to Hephaestus doesn't really check out and I'm expecting Hephaestus to call in that favor later. The whole golden chair thing was pretty good, felt like something out of the Heroes of Olympus tbh, except the constant sacrificing is starting to get a little grating. yeah, we know. Its Percabeth. Have some class.

oh yeah, the whole Annabeth's seeing the fates thing …fuck off, its not supposed to be her moment if they did that they better go through with it too because if their going to take Percy and Luke's thing and giving it to Annabeth then these writers better do something with it.

EPISODE SIX...it was okay but kinda boring. I honestly figured that there wasn't going to be a substantial Nico Di Angelo cameo anyway. Annabeth using a prism instead of water was cool. Luke's "old married couple" comment was idiotic. them knowing how the Lotus Casino works is another prime example of the show not letting tension or discovery happen. everybody has to be too smart for simple tricks despite the fact that the simplest tricks are the most effective sometimes. Meeting with Hermes is fine but my main critique here is that they're introducing Luke's shit way too fucking early. Like, if they do this they better go through with this shit i swear to fuck-

The driving was funny.

The Deadline having already passed was a big fucking waste of everyone's fucking time How is that Riordan wrote at Least TEN FUCKING BOOKS USING THE DEADLINE AS AN ESSENTIAL NARRATIVE DEVICE AND SOMEHOW DECIDED TO JUST PISS ALL OVER THIS SIMPLE ASS CONCEPT OVER MY FUCKING LAPTOP SCREEN ARE YOU SHITTING ME. Oh yeah and there were no consequences either. Like remember How it was strongly fucking implied that if Percy failed to return the lightning bolt Zeus was going to fucking kill Percy where he stood? No? like there were consequences to missing that fucking deadline. assholes.

EPISODE SEVEN almost made start swearing out loud in a library.

yeah the groves of Asphodel was an interesting concept for twenty seconds and then shat itself. the design of Cerberus was cute. loved it. The pit to Tartarus was cool. I am not angry that the Underworld did not fit the one I saw in my head because I understand that modern filmmaking is severely allergic to showing any sense of grand mass scale. okay, I'm capable of being gracious. Hades was charming and also a little funny. Poseidon and Sally's flashback scene I'm neutral about. it was done well. I sort of felt something. the actual discussion I have a bone to pick with.

I'm done being gracious. on to the crimes.

I'm in the camp that the Sally-Percy flashback intro was not great for Sally's character. adaptation wise. none adaptation wise? yeah sure the pursuit of parental realism was mediocre but fine. I said earlier that going the route of implying that people thought Percy had schizophrenia wasn't really the best and this is where the show bites itself in the ass. walking into Procrustes's trap already knowing Procrustes's trap was insulting and they didn't have the decency to let Percy do any decapitation. (honestly dude if they had let Percy get out the sword and cut that fucker's head off I would have forgiven this entire episode cause I was starving for action scenes at this point) Kicking Annabeth out for the rest of the episode is a crime but I cant decide if its because its boring or insulting or something else. wasting everyone's fucking time with the fourth pearl is a crime. whoever thought that Riordan was going to "gives a little shred of hope and then snatch it away" are you new here? like, did you just get here? because anyone who has Riordan's number at least subconsciously suspected this was going to be a waste of time.

Hades introduction was a massive fucking crime Adaptation wise. that's not my fucking Hades, I hate this adaptation.

none adaptation wise? a fucking let down for anyone that knows jack shit about mythology and an okay subversion of expectations for anybody that is completely ignorant.

the back and forth dialogue between the Two and Hades was cool tho.

EPSIODE EIGHT. yeah so I didn't know that we were only getting eight episodes total so I actually did have hope until i saw the up next on episode seven and then realized oh we were fucked all the way down. I'm not saying the lightning thief was like the Return of the King but it did have a quite have to wrap up a lot of shit one by one as one reads it.

Percy vs Ares was fine. by this point I didn't really hope for like, a great fight scene, so I'm happy with what we had. Oh yeah by this point I think I made peace with the fact that we weren't going to acknowledge the Nation Wide Man Hunt of Percy Jackson Plotline from the novel because apparently we weren't going to have fun on this show. that shot of Percy going for the deadly slice was great.

oh yeah this episode also confirmed that we weren't going to see any real consequences of missing the deadline anyway. oh sure, you hear about it but that not real effort on the shows part anyway.

Olympus looked nice. the aesthetic of the "throne Room" was kinda nice. rest in peace ceiling of stars you will be missed. ancient thrones was a decent touch. Poseidon and Zeus speaking greek brought joy to my heart. Luke and Percy's training being included at all brought a shred of hope to my asshole heart at this point. Luke's betrayal scene...okay at that point it just felt like we were wrapping all the important shit up. Percy calling Kronos Grandpa was funny. the goodbye between the trio was nice. the final monologue pumped me up a little bit.

Honestly I wanted Zeus to just kill Percy. kid. shut. the. fuck. up. shutupshut up shot the fuck up just kill him. I want you to do it. I want you to fucking kill this kid I'm serious. (live reaction) oh wow you wanted to set up Poseidon taking one for Percy how clever and not a cheap bit for the audience to instantly like Poseidon as the good godly dad instead of the affectionate ambiguity of pride shown in the novel that is maintained through out the novels (on e of the few fucking things that were maintained in those novels honestly). Having the reunion between Sally and Percy be interrupted was bad taste.

I miss the "Luke trying to fucking murder Percy" scene a little bit. Also Percy's line in defense of the gods was so asinine after the second, third, fourth, and fifth, and eight episodes going on and on about how much the gods suck. Annabeth being there is fine but its just one those things that could build towards something new and interesting in following seasons but I wouldn't be surprised if the showrunners don't do anything with that. "the gods

oh yeah, thank you for letting me watch Gabe kill himself instead of watching Sally murder the fucker. not like that was fucking important or anything.

honestly I don't think it would have saved the show that much but I think it would have helped the show a LOT if they had two more episodes, or at least two more episodes worth of time. personally I would put one extra episode for camp halfblood and one extra episode for the ending. at least so we can some immediate backstory of Luke failing his quest if we cant also have the Fucking FBI On Percy's Ass Plotline. (I miss you so much)

the nicest thing I can say about this show is that It makes me want to read the books more and that I need to go read some PJO fanfiction. maybe then I'll calm down. Maybe not.

anyway if any of ya'll wanna fight me on this rundown of succinct critiques I got plenty of free time. you know where the comment section is.

[wolfstrong]

BUFFY SEASON 4 THOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS

Okay I’ll start out by saying I LIKED IT. I ENJOYED MY TIME HERE OKAY. it’s BTVS. I FREAKING LOVE THIS SHOW!!!! However, I think my complaints are simular to what I had to say about last season, where the one off episodes were great but the over arching plot was a little UHHHHH. UHHH so let’s just go in chronological order shall we?

This season started off with BANGERS MAN. BANGERS. There was some episodes I kinda didn’t like early on (harsh light of day… too much sex!) but other then that, I’d say we had 10 episodes of straight BANGERS! Like seriously early season 4 was also some of the funniest BTVS I’ve ever seen? They really really hit their stride with comedy having the humor come from the situation and not the lame jokes. See now the show knows that we know it’s character well, and it knows exactly what kind of situation will subvert our expectations and be very hilarious. The “””bad parts”” of this season was about half way through when it really started to get into the main plot. When the Initiatives was first introduced I was actually kinda getting into it because I thought there was gonna be this whole thing where Riley and Buffy had to hide their identities from each other and also maybe Buffy wouldn’t know the Initiatives motives and they maybe thought she was a demon of some kind so they would be fighting without realizing they were on the same side and Buffy and Riley would date without knowing they were each others enemies. But they did this for like one episode. And then we learned everything about the Initiative instantly and they weren’t even cool at all they were just like a big gang of boot boys. Also I kinda liked Maggie Walsh as the main enemy person and it REALLY threw me off when Adam just killed her unceremoniously ??? After all her build up? And then Adam just kinda replaced her and he was the main villain?????? Did Maggie Walsh’s actor want to leave the show or something? I felt weird vibes from that sudden death and tbh the main plot never recovered. Anyway for that short period Faith was back that was really awesome, and I also liked a couple more episode in the later half but eh. Then the ending felt kind of lack luster just cuz I didn’t really care about Adam and never felt like he was that big of a threat for some reason (idk, giant franking stien monster who acts like evil jesus just isn’t really scary to me) so when he died and the collective went away I was like. Yeah okay whatever. Also Buffy going super saiyan by combining with all her friends to defeat the big bad was so cheesy that it was kinda awesome. And to end everything off weird dream sequence episode where we were I guess supposed to use our Freudian-like psychoanalyzation skills to deduce each of the characters insecurities, flaws and strengths. Anyway, at least at the end of the season, they kind of acknowledge the way that the gang had been drifting apart.

It was hard because they were intentionally putting strain on the Scoobies and that was also a big theme of the season. Like thinking back on earlier episodes, I remember Xander would just like show up on campus to eat lunch with everyone or it would cut to everyone chilling in his basement or AT LEAST Willow and Buffy having roomie vibes. But towards the end they never did any of that stuff :( one of the main issues I think is they didn’t have a centralized hang out spot. I really really miss the library, i know that Giles house was kinda a replacement and they spent a lot of time there, but it’s not the same. The library was like a neutral space where they could do demon hunting work but also just hang out in. They only go over to Giles place when there is something bad going on. Also everyone had their respect romantic partners that drove wedges between them, if unintentionally. Anya was a pretty bad offender of this, but I think Riley was the worstest. He didn’t mesh well with the whole group at all, and Buffy spent WAY too much time with him. Even Angel meshed better with the rest of the group!!! ANGEL! I think the thing is you got the sense that Angel cared about Buffy’s friends, at least because he understood they were important to her. He say that and he say them work as a team and he integrated accordingly and helped as he could. I’d be surprised if Riley even knew Xanders last name, or like even his first name for that matter. I feel like he barely gave a shat about the external forces in her life, he was just obsessed with her only and his stupid job. They put on blinders for each other and for a lot of scenes it was just the Riley and Buffy saga and I DID NOT CARE FOR IT!

So in conclusion I think on an episode to episode basis this season was very solid and had some episodes that were the funniest I’ve seen in the whole series. The first half was way better then the second half, and the overarching plot was pretty sloppy, all over the place and a bit boring and lackluster. I didn’t like how the Scoobies drifted apart and I hope that next season is a return to form in terms of group dynamic.

Anyway, my fav episodes:

Hush: number one all time fav of course of course, just like, so good on every level and I could go on and on but I’ll take a page from the episode book and not say more about it

Living conditions: I had assigned dorm mates when I was a freshman who I didn’t exactly mesh with, so this episode just felt so so real.

The Initiative: see this is when I thought the overarching plot was gonna be really good,,, but tbh it peak here. This episode was just kinda a riot and I think often about the scene where Spike tried to but Willow but he can’t cuz of the chip and they treat it like he’s got erectile dysfunction. It’s just too good.

Pangs: I KNOW. ITS BAD. BUFFY HAS TO MURDER NATIVE AMERICAN SPIRITS ON THANKSGIVING. BUT THE EPISODE IS LOWKEY SO SELF AWARE AND ITS SO BAD ITS NOT POLITICALLY CORRECT BUT ITS REALLY FUNNY

Something Blue: … Buffy and Spike in love… I laughed I’m sorry. Also just a good Willow episode me thinks

A New man: Ethan shenanigans and major Giles demon fail… LOL UPVOTE!

Who are you: I know this was a two parter but I thought the first part was kinda boring (sorry I know that episode has a lot of stans) anyway I thought the whole body swap thing was a great way to explore faiths character, literally putting her in Buffy’s shoes and making her see what it’s like to be the good girl. Also Sara Michelle Geller did a wonderful job acting as faith in Buffy’s body, not all actors can pull off the body swap thing (I should know, I’m a Star Trek fan) so I was very impressed.

New Moon Rising: you had me at Tara/Willow. Yeah

Lest favorite episodes: eh none of them really jump out at BAD some just weren’t as exciting as others. Just like any Initiative and Riley heavy episodes were kinda a snooze fest.

I won’t recap the character I’ve already talked about, but the Scoobies really did change a lot this season, I won’t say for better or for worse. They just changed in ways that are realistic to their new situations.

Anya: I know this doesn’t make any sense, but I don’t hate Anya, I just hate everything about her. Lol. No but for real like i said before, when she’s not talking about Xander I actually kinda like her. I think the very dry and blunt but completely uncaring about social cues thing can be very funny. BUT THEY DONT LET HER DO ANYTHING BUT BE XANDERS LAP DOG. All she does is talk about Xander Xander Xander and it makes both of their characters much much worse. I wish they would have switched the roles and had Xander really like her for some reason and her kinda not care much about him. Idk. Sigh. I wish Xander was gay

Tara: I LOVE YOU TARAAA!!!!!! I know i already said this but she reminds me of so many girls I went to school with so to me her presence is just so warm and comfy :) her and Willow are very sweet together and by the end of the season their relationship kinda became what I was most invested in

Spike: I’m pretty sure I haven’t wrote about spike in previous season reviews? But anyway I kinda love what they did with spike in this season, I mean really how can you not. He was just kinda their weird pathetic friend who actually wasn’t their friend and was still evil but everyone forgot cuz it was so hard to take him seriously. The writers wanted him to be a main character but also kinda didn’t know what to do with him every episode, so sometimes it would just be like “yo why’s spike the bus driver?” But tbh I kinda didn’t mind. His wet stray dog presence really added something and was always funny when you remember he was the big bad of season 2. Oh how the great have fallen.

Riley: yeah yeah our white bread red blooded boot boy all American nice guy. Completely doesn’t mesh with the vibe of the show and is way too boring. He’s so an Angel rebound, I’m sorry. Like I just KNOW that’s not Buffy’s type. It’s just not. But I already talked a lot about him so whatever.

Okay and those are my thoughts 😁 I’m not rereading all that rn so typos damned! Looking forward to season 5!



[themovieblogonline]

Hayley Atwell takes on Tomb Raider: The Legend of Lara Croft!

It feels like it’s been an uncertain time for Tomb Raider lately. The producers have been trying to figure out the best way to continue the Tomb exploring legacy. For any gamers reading this, the latest trilogy of games by Square Enix/Crystal Dynamics started in 2013 are all really awesome! With Camilla Luddington taking on the voice of Lara Croft, the games were a success! This was partly thanks to the games taking on a darker and more serious tone. This is a huge shift compared to the Angelina Jolie Lara Croft movies and the original 90s games. It really shifted, and it was a gamble that kept the attention of the fanbase, and more. https://youtu.be/cb9AUAZBcOk?si=KwonhW9qxirvpFqb This legacy will continue in a new anime series, called Tomb Raider: The Legend of Lara Croft, with Hayley Atwell! The new anime is coming to Netflix in 2024. The show will also be set after the trilogy of the recent games. Intended to capture Lara’s “rise” we can surely expect to see that serious tone making its way to the forefront once more. The trailer also features some mysterious moments which I’m quite excited for the show itself to answer. This trio of games wrapped up nicely in 2018 with Shadow of the Tomb Raider. Overall, we got a superb storytelling arch, with a whole host of high-octane action, within stunning global locations. They really did respect the original games, whilst bringing something excitingly new. We also saw a reboot movie in 2018 and though it did step into that serious tone that we’d seen in the recent games, it didn’t quite hit the mark for the Tomb Raider following. There were some really brilliant moments in the movie, and personally, I still think that’s a version they could carry on with. However, the Lara Croft actress Alicia Vikander is no longer attached to the role of Lara Croft. It’s hard to tell what the next movie will look like at this point. Originally announced in 2021, the series will be brought to our screens by Crystal Dynamics, Legendary, and Castlevania's Powerhouse Animation. I must admit, that growing up I didn’t play the classic Tomb Raider games. I had a lot of friends who did indeed lock the butler in the fridge… (Google this to know more). More recently, I played the latest trilogy of games, along with Lara Croft and the Temple of Osiris. I enjoyed a lot of moments from the 2018 movie (How cool is that action-packed waterfall scene?), so as a fan, I’m genuinely really intrigued to see Hayley Atwell’s anime version. So, what do you remember from Tomb Raider over the years, and how excited are you for this next iteration? Read the full article

[save-the-villainous-cat]

I'd love a silly little snippet with a Hero x Villain, who realize they're the same age and most likely go to the same school, and oh geez they seem to have a class together too, because they have the same shitty teacher, High School or Uni, whatever works for you ^-^

“You are as dull as dishwater,” the villain muttered — more to themselves than to the hero ��� and continued to listen to the hero’s long sermon about justice. However, the hero was a bit sharper than the villain had thought.

“I beg your pardon?” Why was the hero chuckling, though?

“No, no. My bad. Please, go on.” The villain raised their hand in a somewhat apologetic gesture, or at least they tried with their body bound to a broken streetlamp.

Usually, the You-are-as-dull-as-dishwater-comment was followed by a “I’ve never seen such lazy graduates,” but that hadn’t seemed very fitting in a situation like this. The villain had mainly said it because the hero’s boring ass speech had reminded them of the most deadening professor they had. This professor was always throwing the dishwater comment at his students when no one was torturing themselves by listening to his hour long speeches that could be summarised in ten minutes.

“Oh, right.” The hero grinned and tried to continue but as soon as they opened their mouth, they closed it again, squeezing their eyes shut, tilting their head and clearly fighting the urge to laugh. “Sorry, give me a second, alright?”

The villain arched a brow. “Sure, take your time.”

With their hand on their mouth and nearly teary eyes, the hero turned around and giggled to themselves before they faced the villain again and bit their lip.

“Sorry—” a chuckle “—fuck, this is so stupid. Okay, where was I?” By now, the villain was smiling, too. Not necessarily because they knew the reason of the hero’s sudden outburst but because the hero’s laugh was so damningly contagious. And they looked so stupidly cute.

“…justice cannot be repaid with kindness…?” the villain offered.

“Oh, yeah. Yep. Yes. Cool. Cool. Puhhh—” The hero was grinning, close to breaking again. “Fuck, sorry. It’s just…it’s an inside joke in my class. The thing you said, I mean. The dishwater thing. My professor says that all the time and we all make fun of it.”

No way.

“Wait. You don’t happen to have the laziest graduates ever in your biology class, then?” The villain grinned until it hurt. They had never been happier to cause chaos on campus.

“No fucking way.” The hero let out another one of those cute laughs and they even jumped a bit. “Oh my god. I thought I made a fool out of myself when I started laughing. You’re in that class, too?!”

“You are a fool already. And yes, I am. Have you started the assignment yet?” The hero looked at them and for a terrible moment their questioning look was close to You haven’t?!

Sleeping in this biology class was deadly.

Sleeping in any biology class is deadly.

So, it wasn’t that improbable that the hero had finished it compared to the villain who was a procrastinator through and through. They still had two days left, though. Not that bad.

“Nope. My pages are still blank.” The villain let out a heavy breath of relief. All those years in school they had learnt to love such words. Words of the same laziness and motivation lacking actions the pupils around them were drenched in.

No one likes to do what they’re told. People tend to be incredibly lazy.

Sometimes, the villain wondered why schools even existed, then. But in those times they would remember the value of their education and the importance of academic achievement and holy shit the hero was in their class. Awesome.

“Yeah, me neither. I suck at cytology.”

“I could help you,” the hero offered. Their whole weight was on their left leg now, their hands on their hips. They stared down at the villain who was still tied to the streetlamp. “…but I guess you should stop your little pranks and thefts for a while in return.”

Seductive.

“Define a while, please,” the villain said. They were actually not that bad at cytology. Maybe they just wanted to find out who of the laziest graduates ever was their hero. Maybe they wanted to annoy the hero. They didn’t really know, yet. It was weird, the thing they were feeling. Unfamiliar. They were full of excitement and for the first time in months happy to be in that class.

“…two weeks?”

“Deal.”

The villain hadn’t hesitated.

[epicene-humanoid]

some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times. 

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through). 

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

 and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode. 

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that. 

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous. 

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

[crazy-sevens]

Writing Snippet #23

I have no restraint

Part one here

Part two here

***

One date turned into two dates. Two dates turned into four dates. And four dates turned into the villain and the hero going steady.

The hero didn’t know what to think. 

But it wasn’t like she could get away from it all seeing as her boyfriend was also her arch-nemesis. 

“So,” the villain said, “You still going out with what’s-his-face?” He was looking over the hero, who was occupied gripping the ledge of his building for dear life.

“Aw, you jealous?” She teased through gasps and nearly losing hold of the building. 

He smirked, grabbing her before she could fall. “You’re just mad you couldn’t get me. Does he know he was your second choice?”

She gripped his hand tight as he pulled her up from the ledge, disguising his rescue by throwing her across the top of the building. She hit the ground hard. She let out a soft groan.

His eyes flashed with concern for a moment. Then he tried to mask his concern with triumph. After all this time he still thought she was in the dark. How cute.

The hero stood up shakily. “You just wish you could be half as good looking as he is,” she shot back.

She saw him perk up. He liked it when she complimented him. But then he shrugged nonchalantly. “You haven’t seen me without the mask.”

She put a hand on her hip. “You gonna take it off?”

“Just a thought.”

She laughed, then looked at her watch. Woah she was going to be late to her-their date. He seemed to realize this too. He smiled. “Well I’d love to stay and chat, darling, but I’m going to have to go.” His eyes glittered. “Previous engagement.” And then, the ever dramatic person that he was, he jumped off the side of the building.

“See you at six,” the hero mumbled.

***

The villain knew it was only a matter of time before the hero found out. It was a miracle that it had lasted this long. But when she found out . . .

She would hate him. 

He couldn’t let that happen. It had all started as a trick, but things had changed now. A month ago he would have let her fall from that building. And now he was feeling guilty over accidently hurting her.

He was still thinking about what she said. She thinks I’m good looking. He smiled. At least she thinks they both looked completely different. 

She arrived at the park five minutes after six. A small smirk on her face and her eyes glittering. “Ready to lose?”

“Is it supposed to be a race?”

They were going to hike up a trail and have a picnic at the top. Nothing competitive about it. But she loved a competition. 

“That’s what I’d say too if I knew I was going to lose,” she said.

He smiled. She insisted on giving him a head start. And then she proceeded to beat him to the top. 

He wasn’t going to hear the end of that any time soon.

***

“YEAH! I win!” The hero cheered when she reached the picnic spot. 

The villain was only a few seconds behind her. “Yeah only because I let you win,” he panted. 

She laughed. “If that’s what you want to tell yourself.” But before she could do any further bragging, she felt a pang in her side. She held back a gasp. It must’ve been from earlier. 

The villain’s smile faded. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She turned away from him to the food, closing off further questioning. “Wow this looks awesome!”

“Yeah I packed a lot of food.” He gave her a sideways glance. “For you.”

“I don’t eat that much.”

“My wallet begs to differ.”

“Fine I’ll buy from now on,” the hero relented, sitting down on the picnic blanket. He sat down next to her. She smirked. “You bring your guitar?” She wasn’t that surprised to find out that he couldn’t actually play the guitar. She was still teasing him about it.

He raised an eyebrow. “You bring your juggling knives?” He shot back.

“Alright you win.”

He laughed.

She had ‘revealed’ a week ago that the reason for her scars was that she was actually the hero. He was pretty good at acting, she almost believed he hadn’t known. 

After they finished eating, they watched the sunset together. The hero leaned against the villain, lost in thought. 

She had fallen for the villain. She could still try to pretend it was to gather intel, or getting the upper hand on him, but she knew that she was . . . in love. 

In love!

Before she could ponder further on this exhilarating horrifying fact, the villain spoke. “So did [Villain] give you any trouble today?”

“Yeah,” the hero muttered. 

“Did he get away?”

“He jumped off the building.” She shook her head, biting back a laugh. “He’s so dramatic.”

The hero could almost hear the villain resisting the urge to argue. “But you’ll get him next time right?” he asked. 

She chuckled. She already had him. “Right,” she answered

“So,” he said, “what’s it like being a superhero?”

“It’s pretty cool. Keys to the city, servants to do my bidding, guys left and right; I’m living the dream.”

“I’m your favorite guy right?”

“Second favorite. Steve gives excellent massages.”

The villain gave a soft chuckle. “So besides all that, what’s it really like?”

The hero sighed, leaning in further into the villain’s chest. “Stressful.”

“I can understand that.”

The hero shook her head slowly. “You're the first person I’ve gone out with in ages.”

“I can tell.”

The hero smacked him. He laughed again. She loved it when he laughed. And he laughed so easily with her. It made her feel like she was a world class comedian. 

But then his laugh died.

“Did he hurt you?”

She turned to him now, watching his eyes when she answered. “Yeah.” She put her hand to her side. “Right here.”

His eyes flashed with his usual concern–and guilt. “Hey Cas, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“[Villain] I know it’s you.”

His jaw nearly dropped. “You do?”

“Ever since I saw your picture.” She raised an eyebrow. “You really think I didn’t realize this whole time?”

He looked at her sheepishly. “Maybe.”

She laughed. “You know,” she said, “on our first date, my friends were waiting to ambush you.”

“I was going to kidnap you.”

“Real original.”

“Yeah.” He sighed with relief, silent for a moment. Then he turned to the hero. “You really think I’m dramatic?” he asked. 

“Definitely.”

“And we aren’t going to fight anymore?”

The hero smiled. “Well don’t get too crazy.”

 He smiled back. “And you aren’t going to break up with me?”

“Nope.”

“Well now what?”

“Haven’t you seen any movies? This is where we kiss.” 

“Oh.” 

The villain turned toward her, her eyes glinting with a challenge. He smiled at her, those eyes meeting the challenge.

And then they kissed, the sun completely falling behind the horizon.

It can’t get more movie than that.

[soulmate-game]

Finally another oneshot, after forever and a day. I’m weak for soulmate AUs. I think most of you know that already.

SO WHY NOT ANOTHER?! WOO!

This one is based on a prompt given to me a hella long time ago, idk who sent it to me. Tell me who you are so I can credit you! I wrote down the prompt for me to remember, it’s something like; “You can write letters to your soulmate, and they travel through time either to a moment your soulmate needs the letter most or to a random point in time to them.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Dear Myself.

I’m doing this for school. We have to write letters to our future self. I am nine years old right now, the year is 2009. I hope you found a cool job! I don’t know what to do yet. I like drawing though! Science is icky, so I hope you’re not a scientist. But if you are, and if it makes us happy, then I guess it’s okay. Be the best scientist you can! If you are all moved out, did you ever get a pet hamster? Hamsters are so cute!

Oh, but most important. Yesterday, I was bullied by my Arch Enemy. You know who. Yeah. Anyway, she said some mean things and it just reminded me that sometimes life hurts, and people can hurt you real bad. But life is still pretty. A family of robins made a nest on my terrace outside my room, and I saw them after I was done crying. They are so cute, and made me happy again. So, always look for your family of robins to keep you happy, I guess. Life isn’t bad, even if some things and people are. I hope you remember that. Keep believing in yourself, and in others!

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (from the past).

Do not open this letter before 2020! Pretty please!

Shaking hands held the letter. It was written two years ago, but he only could have gotten it now. It just appeared on his desk out of nowhere. At first, he thought it was some sick joke. He had just moved to Gotham again, and none of his—

None of them knew he was back. But he recognized this handwriting. He had gotten exactly one letter from them before, written by an older version of this woman and received by him when he was ten. Not long after being taken in by Bruce Wayne. The letter back then had been short, precise. Comforting.

Hello there.

I am writing this in the year 2018. You see, I found out quite a while ago that my soulmate bond is unique. It sends letters to you that I write, from all across time. I can get your letters, too, so don’t hesitate to write to me if you need to vent. My letters might not always reach you in time to feel like a normal response, but I’ll keep writing if you do. I know your life isn’t easy, if the letters I’ve already gotten mean anything. But keep fighting. I know what it’s like to be the underdog. But I’m rooting for you.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, New Adult.

Jason’s hands crumpled the two pieces of paper in them, the older of the two already close to crumbling away. They had buried him with it, resurrected him with it. It had seen hell and back just like him, but he still kept it. Even with blurring ink and ripped edges and blood stains. The writing and names matched, even if his newer letter was written in the clumsy scrawl of a child. The nuances in the handwriting were still the same.

She would still be writing to him. This new letter he got was clearly the first, before she knew about her soulmate or how her letters would disappear after she wrote them just like his did. But 2009? It just sank into him, that she was younger than he was. By seven years.

But her words still kept him afloat better than any lecture from that asshole Bruce.

He couldn’t see her yet. Not any time soon, really. He was already eighteen, dead and resurrected, and she was barely eleven. He could wait.

She didn’t need somebody as screwed and dark as him right now, anyway. A murderer, a budding crime boss. If she needed someone killed for her, or someone to save her, he’d be there. Otherwise?

Jason took out the receipt from his last visit to a gas station for cigarettes, grabbed a sharpie from his desk, and began to write.

Yo, Mari.

I’m writing this in 2011. I got your first letter. Thanks. It reminded me of some good times. I’m sorry I didn’t write anything for five years. Stuff happened. I won’t write often. Not until I’m in a better place. But if you need it, you can vent to me too. Also, don’t look at the back of this receipt. This was the only paper I could find.

Jason T., Your Soulmate.

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette, nine years old, stared down at the receipt that had taken the place of her letter to herself. She recognized that it was written in English, but she couldn’t read it yet. But that was okay, her Papan and Maman could read English!

She ran down, holding it in her hands tightly. She didn’t want the mystery letter to disappear! She handed it to her parents, who were in the middle of making croissants and stared at her for a moment. And then they broke into a flurry of movement.

“Why do you have a receipt for cigarettes, Marinette?!” Sabine yelled, confused more than angry. How would her daughter get a receipt written in English? And after giving her parents a confused head tilt, Marinette explained.

“It just appeared, like, poof!” She moved her hands to illustrate her point. “I was writing my letter to my future self for school, which is gone now oh no! Mlle. is going to be so mad!”

“Mari, focus,” Tom prodded gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You were writing your letter, and then what?”

Marinette took a deep breath. “Well, I finished it and put it in a little envelope. But as soon as I put it down and was all done, it shimmered red and faded away! This showed up in the same place my letter had been, like they were traded!”

Tom and Sabine shared a glance, and her mom held out her hand. “Can I read it, Marinette? I promise I won’t take it away. Your father and I just want to see what it says. We’ll read it to you.”

Marinette nodded eagerly, and after making sure their dough was put away the family of bakers moved to their living room and the little girl sat on her father’s lap as her mother held the note for them to see and read it aloud.

The parents shared another glance.

“Wow!” Marinette exclaimed happily, bouncing in place. “He sounds so cool! He is my soulmate? Really? I wonder what he looks like!” Her eyes took on a dreamy quality as she began to daydream. “I bet he’s super handsome! And nice and strong and—“

“Mari,” Tom said gently, tugging one pigtail playfully to get his daughter’s attention. She turned her large blue eyes to him, rapt with attentiveness. “I know this is exciting, but you know that not all soulmates are romantic, right?”

Marinette instantly calmed down, eyebrows pinching together. “But— but Nino said that soulmates are people you will marry in the future. Your perfect person. Like you and Maman,” she argued, incredibly confused. Her Maman chuckled, handing Marinette her receipt-letter back.

“Yes, but sometimes a person doesn’t need romance the most. Sometimes, what a person needs most is a friend or another family member. So sometimes, a soulmate is a big sister or brother instead, or another Maman or Papan. And we think that your soulmate might be the big brother kind,” she explained patiently. Marinette’s confusion instantly changed to excitement again, eyes sparkling with starry amazement.

“Really? How can you tell?”

“Well,” Tom took over, tapping the receipt with one finger. This receipt is from America. Over there, you have to be eighteen to buy cigarettes. Which means that, two years from now, your soulmate is already eighteen.”

“Or he better be, anyway,” Sabine growled, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“But even if he isn’t,” Tom nervously glanced over at his wife and back to his daughter. “The way he writes is too grown up for someone close to your age. He is probably several years older than you—“

“At least seven, if he knows what’s good for him,” Sabine interrupted again. Tom just chuckled and shook his head.

“But still. Are you okay with him not being a romantic soulmate, Nettie?”

Marinette jumped off of her dad’s lap, hugging her note to her chest with one of the biggest smiles either of her parents had ever seen on her face.

“Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted a big brother! I bet he’s so cool, and rides a motorcycle and beats up bad guys! And when we meet, we’ll go out for ice cream and he’ll ruffle my hair, and let me ride on his shoulders, and it’ll be so awesome!”

Sabine finally lost her threatening aura, laughing along with her daughter. “Well, I don’t know about the whole beating up bad guys thing. But it sounds like he might need some cheering up, so you should write him letters pretty often. You never know when he might need one the most.”

Marinette nodded seriously, eyes shining with determination now. “That’s right! I have to be the best soulmate-sister ever! I’ll start writing him another letter right now!” She instantly turned to run back up to her room, but her dad’s voice followed her:

“Marinette! You haven’t eaten dinner yet!”

—*—*—*—*—*

The next day, Jason came back to his base to see another letter. It was on special scrapbook paper, a pretty white with a heart-and-stars border. He found himself snorting despite himself, shaking his head and picking up the girly letter.

Hello, Jason!

I just got your letter! It’s still 2009, and my parents were worried about the cigarats. I wanted to learn English first, but Maman and Papan reminded me that you have to be able to read French if you were able to read my past letters (I wonder what I wrote you! My future self must be real smart). Maman says you better be 18, or else she’ll kick your butt. She didn’t say that exactly, but I could tell.

Jason snickered at that. She must have a pretty fun family.

Maman and Papan also said that you’re probably a Big Brother soulmate. That’s super cool! I’ve always wanted an older brother, but it’s just me. I get lonely sometimes. And Maman thinks I have a big imagination, so help me prove her wrong! I bet her that you’re suuuuuuper cool, and have a motorcycle and beat up criminals! She doesn’t think my soulmate would be a hero, but I think you are. I don’t even know you yet, but I just feel it. And even if you don’t beat up bad guys, that’s fine. You’ll still protect me like a big brother should, right? And we’ll go and eat ice cream and talk about the stuff we like when we finally meet. And I’ll protect you too. I know little sisters aren’t supposed to, but I will totally protect you anyway. If you’re sad, I’ll make you macaroons and read you a bedtime story. That always makes me happy.

Please write back soon!

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (from the past still!)

Jason couldn’t help it, and maybe the Lazarus magic had a bit of sway on him still, but he laughed raucously. A deep, belly-shaking bellow. His soulmate sure was a character! And scarily intuitive. How did she guess such accurate things about him? It was hilarious.

But he wouldn’t write back today. Not yet. He held no illusions; he wasn’t brother material. Not now, and probably not for a while if ever. Which reminded him, he had a replacement to kill.

—*—*—*—*—*

The Replacement lived, but at least Batman had gotten the message. Meanwhile, letters from Little Mari, as he had started calling her in his head, had started piling up. He read every single one, but didn’t respond to any. It was all the usual stuff. Talking about her day, asking stuff about him, spouting advice that seemed way too insightful for a nine-year-old.

He kept every single one. Soon, 2009 letters turned into 2010 letters. She switched from writing almost every day to once a week.

By then, Jason had reconciled with Bruce for the most part. After a few attempts on his life, but that wasn’t important. It was then, as he sat down in the living room watching Tim, Dick, Bruce, and the newest hellion Damian, all talking with and teasing one another that he finally got the urge to write again. So he asked for paper, and Alfred brought him a notepad and a plain ballpoint pen. And, for the first time in over a year, he started writing.

Dick and Bruce noticed first, stopping their banter to stare. Dick smiled softly, his shoulders relaxing as he let himself slump over the sofa’s arm a bit. Tim furrowed his eyebrows, and Damian frowned.

“What are you doing, Todd?” The young hellion asked, but Jason barely heard him.

“Nonya business, squirt,” he replied absently. Bruce chuckled fondly, beckoning to his two youngest sons. They both came a bit closer, and Bruce smiled at them conspiratorially. He leaned forward and whispered:

“Jason’s soulbond allows any letters that he writes to travel through time to his Bonded, and vice versa. Back before… everything, he used to write a letter to her almost every day.”

“It’s really sweet. We lined up the dates, and we think that she’s around your age Damian,” Dick added in equally softly. “Probably a familial bond. It’s good that he’s writing to her again.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette was twelve the next time she got a letter from Jason. But, unlike the last one, this one came from the past. And it was written in French.

Hi, Marinette!

I guess I’m your soulmate. I got your letter from 2018. It’s 2005 when I’m writing this. I’m twelve years old right now, but that shouldn’t matter. It was a little surprising when I got a letter written in French out of nowhere! Luckily, I speak a lot of languages. I love learning languages, and reading is probably my favorite thing to do. Don’t tell anyone though! I have my bad-boy image to keep up. I think our soulbond is really cool actually, and maybe we can teach each other stuff if we do this right. I know the whole time-traveling-letters thing makes it hard to reply to each other like normal. From now on, I’ll write you these letters in English and translate them in French on the back. That way, you can read it whenever you want and also learn English if you don’t already know it when you get this letter.

Oh, and I think I’m older than you? In real time, I mean. If you’re a “new adult” in 2018, then you’re probably a few years younger than me. I was born in 1993. You can do the math, since I don’t know when you were born. Anyway! I’ll keep writing you as often as I can and hope that you get these letters when you need them most.

Jason T., Excited Tween.

Marinette laughed, running down to show her mom. She was only writing Jason once a month now, but in the midst of this first letter she had received in three years, her determination was relit. It was just the letters being dumb when they flew through time! No way he was done writing to her. Right?

“Maman! Maman, he really was eighteen when he wrote that first letter! You don’t have to kill him!”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette stared at the pile of letters on her desk, sighing. She ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to read them yet, but she knew they were each dated from 2005. Apparently they had both decided to write daily when they had first discovered their Bond.

“Marinette,” the familiar voice of Tikki spoke you, the little Kwami floating over to land on her holder’s shoulder. “You should read them. Your bond wouldn’t give you letters you don’t need.”

Marinette took a deep breath, rubbing her already sore and red eyes. “I know. But what if—“

Tikki grabbed the letter at the bottom of the pile, flying over and handing it to the pigtailed girl. She smiled gently. “Read it. No what-ifs. Just read for now, Marinette.”

The newest Ladybug sighed, but acquiesced. She sat down at her desk, and began to read. Only two months as Ladybug, and already the pressure was becoming too much.

Two hours later, she had caught up and her mood was considerably better. Jason’s life was definitely no cake walk, but his humor bled through the more concerning details and helped bring light to Marinette’s day. Slowly, one by one, she folded the letters and put them in her special locked box inside her “diary”. She tried to keep a real diary once, but quickly stopped when she realized that even “dear diary” counted as a letter and sent itself to Jason.

She pulled out one of her special pieces of stationary paper and her favorite pink gel pen. For a while she stared at the paper, out of practice after a few months of not writing to him, but eventually she was able to begin again.

Hey Jason.

It’s 2013. I’m 13. I’m pretty sure you got the point by now, it’s not hard to figure out what year I was born. I haven’t responded to any of your letters in a while, but I guess that doesn’t matter. It’s not like I know if you’re gonna get this right away anyway.

So. Uh. Things have changed. I’m only thirteen, but I feel so old you know? On the bright side, your letters really did help me learn English. I mean, you probably guessed that since I’m writing this whole thing in English.

I guess I should explain. A little. A lot has happened. I suddenly have so many responsibilities, and it’s really hard to keep up with it all. So much has changed in just a few months, I feel like I’m going crazy. I’m keeping secrets from Maman and Papan now, which hurts the most. I can’t tell them, I can’t even tell you, but I’m not used to this. I don’t like lying. I don’t even know why any of this happened in the first place, I want answers and I’m getting radio silence. It sucks. But your letters from 2005 really helped, so thanks. I just got them this past year, which is really weird because I remember that our letters time travel and I feel crazy again. But this is real. Our Bond is real, and maybe writing you will help me remember that. Help me focus a bit.

Anyway, that’s all I can think of right now. I’ll try to write you again sometime this week if I have time. We’ll see.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Unsure Teenager.

—*—*—*—*—*

As soon as Jason finished his letter, pretending he couldn’t feel Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian all spying on him from their own spots around the living room, the papers he wrote on shimmered red and vanished. In their place, a piece of tea-colored scrapbook paper with a decorative robin-and-egg border (he would never know how she could be so obliviously on point with the designs she chose), popped into existence. He blinked, snatching it up and looking it over. His eyes widened.

“It’s only from next year,” he said aloud, for the benefit of the nosy assholes sharing the room with him. “That’s the closest any of our letters have been to one another,” and then Jason’s eyes promptly went serious as she actually read what the paper said.

“Jay?” Dick asked after the man had been silent too long. Jason grunted, his eyes briefly shimmering green before he shook it away. He took a few deep breaths, and finally responded by standing up and handing the paper over to them.

“Something happens next year that fucks with her. All of the letters I’ve gotten from her, besides that first one back when I was still Robin, were from before this. 2009 to 2010. I even got a few from last year, not that long ago. She’s always upbeat and happy and never said anything about any concerning things besides some schoolyard bullying. This isn’t at all like her. The tone is off.”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve actually met her yet Jason,” Tim tried to console him, rereading the paper to make sure he didn’t miss anything. “This could be something mundane. A new school, or an issue with friends or something.”

Jason grit his teeth. “It isn’t. I don’t know how I know, but my gut is telling me it’s more than that. B, I want us to keep an eye on Paris. Something big happens next year, I know it.”

Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Funnily enough, I agree with you. Alfred, can you get up a monitoring system? we’ll keep it automatic until next year actually hits, and then I want someone personally checking up on Paris news at least once a month. Just in case.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was a year into HawkMoth. Marinette hadn’t written a single letter to Jason, but she kept getting the ones he wrote in 2005. When those ran out, she only had two from 2006 before they suddenly leapt to 2012. She guessed that that was because of the five year gap he had mentioned in his first letter, the infamous cigarette receipt.

She sat in her chair, reading the only two 2012 letters so far, the second of which had conveniently landed on her desk that morning. The first had arrived months ago, but she gave it a reread anyway.

yo, Mari.

I’m sorry I haven't written anything else after that horrible receipt, I was getting my life sorted out. things are better now. I have three annoying brothers, by the way. I told you about Dick, I think, in my early letters. Now I have two younger brothers too, Tim and Damian. Damian is a little shit, but oddly enough I think you’d like him. Oh yeah, I’m writing this in 2012 by the way. And yes, this small notepad paper was all I had. Don’t judge me. I guess I’ll answer some questions, to make up for my lack of letters lately. More up to date than what I told you back when I was a naive little kid anyway.

Yes, I have a motorcycle. It is my baby, and I have no idea how nine-year-old you was able to guess stuff about me so accurately. I am most definitely a bad boy, and I have five different leather jackets that I love to death. I’m trying to quit smoking. It’s bad for your lungs kid, don’t follow my example there. Also, I am so fucking proud of your taste in music. I know I had no sway in it, but the fact that Jagged Stone is your favorite musician instills so much older brother pride in me you don’t even know. My dad (You remember how I said I’m adopted, right? yeah that asshole. Don’t tell him I actually love him, but he’s still an asshole), he grew up with Jagged actually. He still refers to him as Jared, it’s surreal. I will definitely let you ride on my shoulders, even if you’re an adult when we meet. I give no shits. And ice cream is mandatory. Officially. I’m making it mandatory right now.

I hope you’re doing okay when this gets to you, Mari. And keep designing, the sketches you sent me were awesome! That’s some real talent. Don’t let it go to waste if it’s something you love.

Alright, the Doofuses are still staring at me so I better go before one of them snoops and sees the sappy stuff I wrote about them. You are sworn to secrecy about it too, Cupcake. No blabbing.

Jason Todd, Finally Kinda Okay.

Marinette chuckled at that, then put it aside to read the new one from that morning. It was shorter.

Marinette!

I just read your letter from 2013, holy shit let this reach you not long after that. You remember that 2012 letter where I was sappy about my family and shit? I hope you got that one first or else this is gonna be confusing. Anyway, this was written that same day. Are You Okay? If shit gets too bad, for whatever reason, you can always contact me. I know this damn letter thing won’t let me give you a specific way to contact me, not for lack of trying damn it, but I’ll say this: Bruce Wayne isn’t hard to get a hold of. Find a way to contact him if you need my help, and I will be close behind. He knows how to contact me. No matter what, Cupcake. I don’t care if you think you’re being stupid or dramatic or whatever lies run through your head. Contact him if you need it, and I will come to help you. I promise. Being thirteen sucks, trust me I know, so let me help you.

Jason Todd, Worried As Hell.

Marinette huffed, shaking her head. She wanted to take him up on that offer, but she couldn’t. She had just met the Guardian not too long ago, and he had made it clear that she couldn’t tell anybody about being Ladybug. Not even Jason. She needed to deal with this alone.

Scenes of bloated bodies filled her mind, all the people who had died just the previous day because of Siren. She had had to swim through so many corpses. So many dead, of all ages.

She rushed out onto her balcony, taking in deep breaths of fresh air and letting the sun’s rays warm her up and slowly bring her out of the haze of burning memory. She was fourteen already. She could handle this. Her childhood had died the moment she had been given the Earrings, ripped away from her too early. Her old self had died. Now she was Ladybug, she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and she was responsible for the fate of even more than just Paris. She couldn’t let herself fall. Not now, not ever.

The loud roaring of a motorcycle made her jump, and she ran to her railing just in time to see a gorgeous black and red bike come to a tire-screeching halt on the street right under her. The biker, she could tell he was large and covered head to toe in corded muscle even from her spot high above his head, slowly took off his helmet. Black hair with stark white bangs came into view, and startlingly deep blue eyes met hers. Marinette’s breath hitched; it was him. She could tell, his mere eye contact made her feel safe and warm and like… like home had found her. He gave her a roguish grin.

“Come on, Cupcake! I believe I promised you a shoulder ride and ice cream. And you gotta keep me from beating a certain old man into a bloody pulp!”

He knew. Marinette smiled widely, a laugh tearing itself from her throat. Hysteric, overjoyed, free. He knew, and it was okay. She didn’t even have to tell him. She took a few steps back, and then vaulted straight over her railing.

“Catch!”

Jason threw his helmet to the side, running forward just in time for her to land safely in his arms. He glared down at her, but his eyes held no heat. “That was incredibly reckless. I shouldn't be proud, but I am. Don’t do that ever again.”

Marinette giggled. “No promises.”

Jason set her down, picking up his helmet before opening the storage on his bike and tossing her a smaller, pink one. “Sorry it took so long. I wanted to come last year, as soon as I figured out what had made you send that concerning letter, but I was told that I would be an instant Akuma. But after what happened yesterday…” Jason shook his head solemnly. “I knew you’d need a break. Come on, Gotham actually has some amazing ice cream.”

“How are we gonna get to Gotham right away? how did you..?”

Marinette paused, Jason keeping his motorcycle’s storage open just long enough for her to see his Red Hood helmet.

“We got portals for that,” he responded nonchalantly, nobody was nearby to overhear anyway. Marinette looked up when he closed the storage compartment, putting her helmet on.

“Well. Then I’m glad you actually took my rant on the Gotham vigilantes to heart and used my designs, because your old mask was disgustingly ugly.”

Jason rolled his eyes, and waited until she was behind him on the bike before revving it and replying;

“Trust me, I know your feelings on it. Demon Spawn and Replacement teamed up to steal that letter and made copies. Now one is pinned to the fridge and I spent another several hours cleaning up the ones they posted over every inch of my apartment walls.”

“... I approve.”

[eideticmemory]

PERFORMANCE | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: You film a sex scene with Matthew Gray Gubler, and have a big urge to try it off camera.

Word Count: 2,953.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, choking, 18 year age gap between adults.

You filmed the sex scene in one take.

The cool air trailed over your bare breasts as you laid against the bed, Matthew’s torso between your legs, his lips on your neck. You had never done a sex scene before, but you knew it shouldn’t have felt this good. You knew your moans should’ve been fake, your facial expressions exaggerated, your body working in an absentminded rhythm. But you found yourself trembling, weak, releasing breathy moans into his ear. All from the feeling of Matthew creating friction between your legs. In an unscripted moment, he gropped your boobs in his hands, and the force sent your back arching. You became so focused on the sensation of his body, the heat trapped under the duvet cover, and his lips as they pressed against yours, the eyes of the crew were drowned out - long forgotten.

When the director yelled “cut!” you pined for Matthew’s lips, the sudden loss of them leaving a bitter feeling in your stomach. Holding eye contact with him, you allowed him to help you out of bed. He promptly handed you your robe, and you couldn’t help but watch as he began to put on his own. Your eyes raked down his body, studying his skin, his torso, his chest, his hips. Your arms folded over your chest to hold the clothing in place, you quickly removed yourself from set and disappeared for the rest of the day.

It would be hours before you got over the feeling. The intensity, the passion, and the pure embarrassment of allowing to let yourself get carried away. It was silly to think a man, of Matthew’s status and age, would find a way to express any sexual attraction towards you. It was wildly unprofessional of you, not to mention completely inappropriate considering the 18 year age gap. But, fuck, you couldn’t help but think about it.

After a substantial amount of time locked away in your dressing room, you finally gathered the courage to head out and head home. You kept your head down as you went to exit the set, eyes trained on your feet. Headphones in, you weren’t sure someone had called your name, but you still stopped in your tracks. When you turned around, one earbud in your hand, you saw Matthew, racing over to you. 

“Hey,” he smiled. “You going home?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Tired.”

“Aw, man,” he sighed. “I was hoping we could, uh, run some lines together? Prepare for tomorrow’s shoot? But if you’re tired, then—“

“I’m not tired,” you interrupted him. The words flowed from your mouth before you could catch them. “We can run lines. That’s-that’s cool.” 

He gave you a soft smile, his eyes peering into yours. “Awesome. My trailer?” 

You gave him a speechless nod, still attempting to catch your breath at the sight of him. You followed him into his dressing room, with him opening the door for you to grant you entrance. You stepped in shyly, and set your bag down on the couch. 

“Nice place you got here,” you said.

He closed the door behind himself and laughed, “Thank you.”

You dug your script out of your purse and sat down beside the accessory, flipping through the pages awkwardly. “So, what scenes did you want to rehearse?”

“How about,” he whispered, holding his own script in his hands. “Our second love scene?” 

You cut your eyes up at him, your breath caught in your throat, “You teasing me?” You pouted.

“Teasing you about what?” He smirked. 

You shyly shook your head, and looked down at your toes as he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Matthew’s eyes went wide, the shock of yours words having him taken aback. “Uncomfortable? [y/n],” he chuckled under his breath. “You made me...the complete opposite of uncomfortable. I might have been, um, a little too comfortable. It’s a sex scene. It happens.” 

“What do you do...um, when-when it does happen?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye, but you could see he was smiling. 

“Just rehearse,” he shrugged. “Get aquatinted with the other until you fall into your own groove.”

“Wow,” you looked up at him, a sly smile on your face. “So much wisdom.”

“Is that a jab at my age, kid?” He gasped, trying to keep from laughing. “Because I gotta tell you, that hurts.”

“No, no,” you shook your head. “So, let’s get aquatinted then. Um, page 67?” You asked, pinning the paper in your script. 

He nodded, “Yep. So, again, we have to improvise the scene. The initiation, the tension, the act itself.”

“Right. So...how should we start?”

“Hm...” he hummed. “Can you start reading your lines? We can do some quick improv.”

You shrugged, “Sure.” 

You set your script down and began to recite the words from memory, staring at the space across from you as directed, and putting on a somber face. “I don’t know why you came here,” you murmured, presenting a voice on the verge of breaking. “You want to sit here and pretend to care about me, when we both know that’s not the case—“

Matthew watched you for a long time before he started kissing your neck, “I wanted to see you,” he breathed against your skin. “I had to see you.”

You draw in a shaky breath, feeling Matthew’s hand on your leg. “Had to see me? See me? You-you haven’t called me since...since....” You trailed off, Matthew’s lips now tracing your jaw with soft kisses. His mouth felt nice. Like it was meant to be on your body. 

“You okay, [y/n]?” Matthew whispered in your ear. By now, your bodies were pressed together, your shoulder leaning into his chest as his hand moved to your inner thigh. 

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t get touched often, do you?” He asked. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, and only shook your head no in response. 

“How?” He kissed your cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I’ve never...” You licked your lips. “Never...never, um...”

He pulled away from you instantly, his eyes concentrated on your face. “You’re a virgin?” 

You looked away as you nodded. “And please don’t give me the whole ‘22-year-old-virgin’ speech. I know it’s lame.” 

“Hey, look at me,” He pressed his fingertips into your chin and lifted your head up. “It’s not lame. Not at all.” 

“However,” you spoke quickly. “I’m-I’m not entirely attached to this virginity. I’ve been meaning to get rid of it, actually.”

He looked at you for a moment, and scoffed, “[y/n]...”

“What?” You whined, turning to face him. “Did you not see me earlier? I’m a complete mess for you.” 

“I don’t want you to regret this. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable or anything like that. And I don’t want you to regret choosing me.”

You stood to your feet, calmly positioning yourself in front of him. You pulled your shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor, your bra following. You began massaging your breast as he watched. “I could kind of tell...that maybe, you liked these.” 

He bit his lip, “Fuck, [y/n].”

You boldly straddled his lap, pressing your boobs into his chest. “I...I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

“You...have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he whispered. “At all.”

You placed a sweet kiss to his lips, “Show me. Please?” 

So, he did. He kissed you, fiercely, and had you laid out on the couch in seconds. He expertly removed your shorts and panties, tossing them to the other side of the room. His enjoyed the view of your body as he kneeled down between your legs. “You’re so beautiful,” he told you. “And so lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. His finger presses against your clit and rubbed you in small circles. “Because I’m taking it easy on you tonight.”

You gulped, and started pant at the small touch. You watched him as he leaned down and kissed your labia. “You’re already so wet,” he commented. He drew a finger over your slit, “Here, see?” He placed the covered fingers against your bottom lip and you instinctively opened your mouth to suck on it. 

“Good girl,” he purred. “Perfect.”

He dove his head in and ate you out. There's something about the way Matthew does it. Like he's starving. Like he's dying and you’re the cure. Like he's in the desert and you’re the only drink of water. He devours you. Completely buries his face and presses his tongue down with so much force, it sends chills up your spine. His hands are tight on your thighs as his tongue encircles one spot on your clit, the one he knows drives you wild.

Embarassingly quickly, your orgasm built in your stomach. When you first noticed it, you began to pull at Matthew’s hair. Push his head away, clench your thighs together. But he only responded by swatting your hands away, putting one hand around both your wrists and the other on your breast. 

“M-Matthew,” you whimpered. “Ah, fuck, I—“

He looked up at you, his eyes peering into your soul from under his eyelashes. He sped up the velocity of his tongue, the muscle applying immense pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

“Mm,” you whined, attempting to pull your hands from his grasp - no success. “Please, please, please.”

You tried so hard. So hard. But it was good, and it was Matthew, and you came. His name falling off of your lips and your chest heaving up and down. He rolls his tongue along your slit, the stickiness covering his mouth. He stared up at you, hungrily, “So, so lucky.” He whispered.

Matthew pulled a condom from his pocket, and hovered over you as he pulled his pants down to his thighs and released his cock. You licked your lips, to which he gave you a knowing smile. Condom on, he sat beside you on the couch, “Ride me.” He commanded.

“What?” You murmured. “I-I don’t know how to do that.”

He chuckled, “I’ve got you, just come sit on my dick.” 

How can you say no to that? You sat up and straddled his lap once again, body shaking with anxiety. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

You nodded, holding yourself up on his shoulders. His hands guided your hips as you slowly, very slowly, sunk down onto his cock, the length and girth filling you up. You let out a vulnerable whine, biting onto your lip. 

“Stay with me, babygirl,” he said. “You’re doing so good.”

With his erection fully buried inside your, you fell against his body, sitting completely still. He asked if you were okay again, and you replied by sitting up, looking him in the eye and saying a quiet, “Yes.”

“Okay,” he whispered. His hands gripped onto your ass, waiting to guide you. “So, you’re just gonna raise your hips up, like this,” he pushed your thighs up, his cock pulling out of you about halfway. “And then you’re gonna come back down.” He relaxed his arms, allowing you to take his length back inside of you. 

Immediately adjusting to the movement, you started to bounce on him, slowly, awkwardly, and he loved it. 

“Oh, yeah,” he moaned, leaning back to watch you. “Fuck yeah. There you go, baby. You got it.”

You smiled at the encouragement and absentmindedly started to rock your hips faster, the sensation of his dick sending you into a trance. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he swore. “Your pussy is so, so fucking good. Give it to me, beautiful, give it all to me. I want it.”

That’s when you lost yourself. You supported yourself by placing your palms on his chest and continued to ride him, quickly, eagerly. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead and you couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping. You’d been touched by other guys, kissed by other guys, eaten out by other guys. But it wasn’t like this. Nothing was ever like this. 

"Look at me," he said. "Look at me."

There's a hint of pleading in his voice, but just enough power to compel you to open your eyes. 

“Let me pound you,” he requested. “Hm? Let me make you come on my dick, huh?” 

And before you could fully nod, he stilled your hips, grasping them in his hands and angled himself before slamming into you. You threw your head back and let out a guttural moan. Shivers racked your body as his hips picked up this new momentum, fucking you so hard and so fast that the couch wobbled. 

“Ah! A-Ah!” You cried out.

“C’mon, [y/n], you can take it. Say you can take it.”

“I-“ you stuttered. “I can take it. I can take it.”

“Mhm, yes, you can.”

Staring into Matthew's eyes while he's pounding into you is a religious experience. When you open your eyes and make that first bit of contact, his jaw drops and this strangled moan came out. 

"Is this good?"

"Yes."

"Tell me it's good."

"H--huh—fu--it's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"How good?"

"So good."

"Say it again."

"S--so good."

It is. It's so good. He buried his face in your neck, making the loudest groans possible against your skin. And you felt his tongue licking from the base of your neck to the edge of your jaw, slimy and icky and drool dripping down your skin. So dirty, so disgusting, Jesus christ. He knows the spot. The one right on your jaw line that sends you over the edge. And he sucks on it endlessly while one hand begins to play with your boob, teasing the nipple between his fingers. Then there’s his tongue again, making it's way to your ear. 

"Say my name."

"Oh, my G--god."

"Say it." And he nibbled on your ear. Your eyes rolled back. "Who's fucking you?"

"M-M-Matthew." 

"Who?"

"M--fuck-Matthew."

He found your clit, such ease, such speed. He presses his middle finger down, the pressure alone making you squeeze his bicep with all your strength. You squeaked, you gasped, you trembled, you tensed up. "Fu-ck."

And he rubbed in circles, quick, hard. Hard. 

"A-ah. Fuck. M—Matthew, please." There were tears in your eyes. Literal tears. He looked at you and wiped them away, not breaking the gaze for a second.

"Oh, baby, you're so close."

You nodded.

"Your legs are so tense, you can b-barely hold your eyes open, your pussy's so tight, fuck." 

You were so, so close. 

"Am I right?" 

"Yes."

"About what?"

"I'm gon-Ah! I'm gonna come."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

"Then do it." And his hand moved at super sonic speed, the motion of his fingers moving at almost the same tempo as his hips.

That did it. The curve, the fingers, the way he looks at you. You threw your head back. You came. It was good. It was long. His hands. Your throat. Fuck.

“Oh, come on, baby,” he cooes. His hand smacked your face, lightly, just forceful enough to pull you from your daze. “Don’t wear out on me now. That was only number two. I know that’s not all you’ve got.”

“Matthew,” you whimpered.

“Hm?” His hips have slowed to this sweet, tempered rhythm, the tip of his tongue pressed against your bottom lip. The steady pumps send shivers through your spine. “Do you want to stop, baby?” 

You dug your nails into his shoulders, your eyes soft and pouty, misted with tears. 

“[y/n],” he calls. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you shook your head. Quickly, harshly, your face flushed and your body quivering. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. “Can you give me one more? Just one more, baby.” 

“Matthew, I can’t,” you whine. “I can’t, I can’t come again.”

“Yes, you can, you can give me a third one. Watch,” His thumbs locates your clit once again, the mere touch drawing a shaky moan from your lips. “One more, baby. That’s all I want. Just one more. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, weakly, holding his face in your hands. 

He's real good about making sure you come again. But when you do, after you ride it out, it's all about him and you’re all for it. He grabs you  by the throat and watches you tremble, sticking his thumb into your mouth. 

"Fuck. Fuck!" he moans. "Mm, am I being too rough?"

Rough? Yes. You could feel him in your chest he's pounding you so hard. It's sloppy and uncoordinated and you feel like you could come again in seconds with the amount of force he's using. 

"No. Keep going." You begged. 

"Fuck." His voice, so dark, so deep. 

He grips onto your throat harder and leans in. "Where do you want it?"

This man is so hot.

You do nothing but stick your tongue out, exposing your throat. He laughed and nodded, biting his lip as he pushes into you harder and harder. 

The transition from your pussy to your mouth was quick. The second he was down your throat, he came and he held onto your hair while he did. He tensed up, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. "Agh! Uh! H-huh! Fuck. Fuck."

What calms you down, after the waves and waves and waves of intensity, is the sound of Matthew’s heartbeat. You end up with your ear pressed to his chest as you two bundle up on the couch, your fingertips tracing his sweaty skin. 

He kissed your forehead, “You okay?”

“Thought you said you were taking it easy on me tonight.” You giggled. 

“Oh baby,” he huffed. “That was easy.”

[everlarkficexchange]

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW. 

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed. 

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it. 

Thank you all! 

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting. 

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet. 

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest. 

 “I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug. 

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles. 

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!” 

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place. 

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music. 

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.” 

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!” 

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze. 

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club. 

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.” 

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?” 

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,” 

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye. 

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?” 

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence. 

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams. 

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!” 

“Am I that transparent?” 

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!” 

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat. 

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful. 

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle. 

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether. 

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh! 

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures. 

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily. 

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead. 

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme. 

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray. 

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch. 

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat. 

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life! 

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it  again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt. 

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on. 

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise. 

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly. 

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply. 

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together. 

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it! 

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have. 

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door. 

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me. 

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth. 

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly. 

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?” 

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim! 

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs. 

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own. 

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up. 

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants. 

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak. 

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter! 

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door. 

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates. 

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve. 

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor. 

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it. 

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress. 

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle. 

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again. 

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine. 

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine. 

He moans. 

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans. 

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob. 

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him. 

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet. 

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!” 

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head. 

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep. 

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me. 

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more… 

When was the last time I had sex? 

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,” 

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive! 

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling. 

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off. 

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust. 

I squeak; he grunts.. 

Peeta holds me by the waist,  “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts. 

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe. 

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body. 

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still. 

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath. 

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs. 

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean. 

“Yeah,” 

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully. 

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today? 

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.” 

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?” 

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—” 

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely. 

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine. 

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips. 

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time. 

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…” 

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed. 

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door. 

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is. 

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep. 

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily. 

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave. 

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking. 

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!” 

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.  

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself. 

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!” 

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint. 

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?” 

Ugh! 

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with? 

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit! 

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?! 

Oh shit! 

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours… 

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach. 

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims! 

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading. 

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!” 

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place. 

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.” 

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps. 

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night… 

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead. 

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta? 

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?” 

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor. 

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings. 

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening. 

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me. 

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met. 

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember. 

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly. 

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl. 

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally. 

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket. 

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master? 

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain. 

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first. 

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention. 

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?” 

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago. 

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly. 

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!” 

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder. 

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful. 

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles. 

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly. 

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?” 

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests. 

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time. 

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,” 

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?” 

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse. 

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly. 

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.” 

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says. 

“How old are you?” 

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable. 

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him. 

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?” 

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently. 

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me. 

“Please… stay with me…” 

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly. 

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me. 

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow. 

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?” 

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really. 

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk. 

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole. 

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.” 

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together. 

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally. 

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?” 

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically. 

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced. 

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes. 

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?” 

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?” 

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit! 

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern. 

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all. 

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle. 

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out. 

[rikalovesrice]

Brother

A ficlet inspired by this thread on Twitter, some “Douxie During Trollhunters” stuff I was working on a while back, and my love for Douxie and Jim being best bros UwU

@aaronwaltke and @biancasiercke if you guys ever wanna give this a read (Absolutely zero pressure! Just sharing💙)

Also a big thank you to my good friend @nikibogwater for proofreading for me! ^_^

Please enjoy!

~ ~ ~

Douxie still remembered the day a seven-year-old Jim Lake Jr. came through the door to Benoit’s, tugging his mom in after him by her hand. His big toothy smile when he exclaimed that it was his mom’s birthday and that he was paying for all of it, even the drinks.

“Are you now?” Douxie asked, handing the pair of them menus. They’d chosen a two-top right next to the windows, the backdrop of Arcadia under a soft orange sunset in full view. 

“I helped mom clean,” Jim said. “Like a lot. So I have lots of money.” He crossed his arms, throwing his mom, Barbara Lake, a cheeky grin. His black hair was on the long side and messy, sticking up and flopping in various places including over one of his eyes, though it did virtually nothing to hide his pride and excitement.

“Can you believe he wanted to spend his whole allowance on me?” Barbara said.

“Uh yeah! You’re the best mom ever!” Jim leaned towards Douxie, feigning a whisper. “She’s the best mom ever.”

Douxie chuckled. “I’m sure. And it looks like she’s got a great son to match.” Jim beamed, though a hint of shyness bloomed on his face.

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” Barbara asked.

“Oh, quite alright. You can call me Douxie. I’ll be your server tonight.”

“Well thank you, Douxie.”

“Mom, can I get a milkshake?”

“Why are you asking me, little man? You’re the one paying.”

“Oh yeah.”

One shared entree of well done steak, a milkshake, and two free slices of cake (accompanied by Douxie’s acoustic guitar and a birthday song) later, Jim caught Douxie by the hem of his jacket after he’d set their receipt down. 

“Wait, Mister Douxie I uh…” Jim dug deep into his pockets, rummaging with a look of determination.

Douxie smiled, kneeling down beside him. “What is it, little man?”

“Um, wait, wait I need to...Oh!” Jim smiled big as he pulled a single coin out of his pocket. He held it straight out to Douxie, his eyes seeming to sparkle. “This is for you! Mom said that you should always tip people.”

Jim placed the coin in the center of Douxie’s palm. It was a nickel, a small bit of rust darkening ol’ Tommy’s profile. Douxie glanced over at Barbara, who was gazing at her son with an expression nothing short of pure endearment, glowing with pride. Douxie closed his fingers over the nickel and held it to his chest.

“A fine tip, indeed,” he said with a soft smile. “Thank you very much, Jim.”

Jim beamed. Then he was springing out of his chair, giggling as he gave Douxie a hug. How long had it been since he’d been smothered by someone who wasn’t Archie? Maybe long enough, because Douxie’s brain stopped working at the gesture, as did his arms. It registered more with every second that passed, the feeling of Jim’s small arms wrapped around him and his head on Douxie’s shoulder. Even without seeing his face, Douxie somehow knew Jim was smiling into his jacket. Something welled up in his heart, warm and touched. Douxie hugged Jim back, one hand on his back and the other gently holding his head.

“You’re awesome Mister Douxie!” Jim said as he pulled back, his hands still on Douxie’s shoulders. “Mom was really happy.”

“Hey now, I’m not the one who bought her dinner tonight.” Douxie ruffled Jim’s hair.

“Alright, Jim, Mister Douxie has to go back to work,” Barbara said softly. Jim’s expression fell and he began to wring his hands.

“No worries.” Douxie gave Jim’s shoulder a squeeze, tilting his head to look Jim in the eyes. “Chin up, buddy.  Next time you come in, I’ll still be here.”

Jim beamed. “Cool!”

“Go on, then.”

Jim hopped to his mother’s side, taking her hand. When he was distracted by one of Douxie’s co-workers wrestling with a malfunctioning blender, Barbara reached into her purse and pulled out a bill. She slipped it into Douxie’s hand, silently mouthing a thank you. Then the pair were off, stepping back out onto the streets of Arcadia under a pleasant evening. 

Douxie unrolled the bill.

Twenty dollars.

His eyes shot to the window in disbelief, catching Jim giving him one last wave goodbye. A deep breath turned into soft chuckling. Douxie waved back.

See you, little buddy.

~ ~ ~

The morning Archie reported Kanjigar’s death, they’d booked it to the canal. The last thing they wanted was for the Amulet of Daylight to wind up in the museum or in some kid’s backpack. Douxie would pick it up and then head right back to Arcane Books. So a brisk ten minute walk later, they were peering down the deep slope of the canal and spotted what must have been the remains of the Trollhunter. A heap of broken stone, just out of reach of the shadow of the bridge. Douxie closed his eyes, taking a moment to honor the fallen Protector of Trolls and Man. Wondering if, somehow, Merlin was doing the same.

“Alright Arch, let’s go — “ Before they could take another step, what looked like a boy on a bicycle suddenly launched over the other side of the canal, suspended in the air before diving back down and landing on his wheels. The boy skid to a halt and turned to holler behind him, up from where he’d come.

“Jim?” Douxie whispered, recognizing that head of black hair and those skinny legs. “A bit late for school, isn’t he?” Then Douxie felt a pinch of panic seize him. He prayed the kid would stay away from that odd pile of rocks.

“Come on Tobes!” Jim hollered.

And not a second later…

James...Lake.

A deep, echoing voice rumbled out into the atmosphere, buzzing in Douxie’s ears. Shock and disbelief struck Douxie like a manticore’s tail. He and Archie shared a look. The panic spiked.

Douxie watched, his heart beginning to pound harder and harder, as Jim faced the stone rubble, slowly removing his helmet. Another familiar face, Toby Domzalski, came struggling down the canal, falling onto his face as Jim passed under the bridge and approached what was left of Kanjigar.

“Do you think he heard the voice?” Archie said.

“No...It can’t be…He’s not…” It couldn’t be. Jim wasn’t a troll. Jim wasn’t a troll. And yet —

James Lake.

The voice rang out again. Jim yelled and fell backwards in surprise. 

“That pile of rocks knows my name!” Jim exclaimed, scrambling closer on his hands and knees. Douxie stared, mind still suspended in shock but gut starting to sink with dread as Jim dug around the rubble, eventually unearthing the Amulet of Daylight, its distinct soft blue glow ever hard to miss. 

Everything in Douxie wanted him to somehow swipe it from Jim’s hands. 

Because not him. 

Not Jim.

But Douxie also knew better. 

“What should we do, Douxie?” Archie asked. They ducked behind a tree when Toby started shouting for someone to reveal themselves. Made sense he would think it was a trick. Only magical beings or the chosen could hear the Amulet.

Only magical beings.... Or so Douxie had thought. Jim slipping the Amulet into his bag was a nail in the coffin.

“Well...we can’t take it now,” he said, eyes still trained on the boys. “The Amulet... seems to have made its choice….”

In the distance, the school bell of Arcadia Oaks rang out. Jim and Toby hurried back to their bikes, quickly mounting and taking off. When they were long gone, Douxie stepped out from behind the tree without a word, sliding down the canal and standing over the pile of stones. He stared off in the direction the boys had left, his mind reeling like nothing else, trying to comprehend what he’d seen and what it meant. 

Why it had to be Jim.

Archie joined him, climbing up on and inspecting the rubble.

“I know...the Amulet doesn’t make mistakes,” Douxie said quietly. “But...a human Trollhunter? And he’s only a child…” His voice quivered, pangs of worry and dread striking his heart.

“It’s...certainly a first,” Archie said, leaning a paw on Douxie’s leg. “I’m not sure what to make of this myself.” There was a long beat of silence before Archie spoke again. “What do you want to do, Douxie?”

What could they do? Was there anything to be done now? That and there wasn’t anyone he could discuss this with, at least who would know more.

If only you were here, Master… Douxie thought, one hand balling into a fist. He stewed in his thoughts for a moment longer before scooping Archie up onto his shoulders and heading back up the slopes of the canal.

“Douxie?” Archie said.

“We’ll keep doing what we’ve always done,” Douxie said. “Watch...and protect.” He didn’t have any answers. But it was done. The new Trollhunter had been chosen. 

Something stirred in Douxie’s chest, growing stronger as he remembered the smiling face of a seven-year-old boy who’d tipped him a nickel. Stronger still because Douxie knew. He knew what it was like to be so young and have so much, far too much, thrust upon him. Having his hand and the growth of his strength forced. The secrets that had to be kept, even from the ones he loved most, for their own safety. Pain he hadn’t known was coming. 

The loss. 

The loneliness.

The weight of the world.

When Douxie retired to his cot that night, he approached the small shine of silver on his nightstand. No, he didn’t have a clue what any of this meant. But what Douxie did know was that he’d be Jim’s greatest ally.  

He picked up the nickel and held it tight, a promise burning deep within him.

I’ll protect you.

~ ~ ~

Author’s Notes :

So I imagine that Jim and his mother ended up not frequenting the diner as much since Barbara was always so swamped and Jim was learning how to cook more at home. So Jim eventually just forgot about his first meeting with Douxie. But Douxie of course still continued to look out for him as best as he could. And I believe this is why Douxie saw Jim as family, even though he seemed to have only known him for a short time. In reality, though, Douxie always loved the kid💙

God bless and thank you all so much for reading!💙

[animationnut]

Feelings In Free Fall

Rating: K+ Summary: After the terrifying ordeal that was fighting F.O.W.L., tumbling through the air with no parachutes was far from the worst thing to happen to the McDuck clan that day. After all, what's better than hugs in free fall? 

Spoilers for The Last Adventure!

...

The bright blue sky and fluffy white clouds would have been peaceful if Huey wasn’t currently free-falling through the picturesque scenery.

The wind slapped at him from all sides. Huey kept his eyes firmly closed, pretending he was at the harbour or the beach and not plummeting to his death from tens of thousands of feet in the air. He tucked his legs against his body to prevent himself from tumbling in all directions.

“I’m going to be okay, I’m going to be okay,” he chanted. “We just survived the insane Bradford Buzzard. We’re not going to die because Launchpad accidentally hit a button. Fate is not that cruel.”

Something solid stuck him and Huey’s eyes flew open. He yelped as Louie frantically clung to him, his movements causing them to spin. “Louie!”

He grabbed hold of his brother’s wings and adjusted his body into a horizontal position. Louie copied his movements so that they were directly across from each other as they fell through the sky. “We need to get a cover for that button,” said Louie flatly.

“Don’t think it would help much. Launchpad will still find a way to crash the plane.”

“Yeah, but at least we’d be inside when it happens.”

“That would be preferable,” admitted Huey.

Louie arched a brow at the steady stare Huey aimed at his face. “Do I have something on my beak?”

“What? No.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“If I look down, I’m going to freak out,” said Huey, more calmly than he felt.

“Ah. Gotcha.”

“Hey, guys! Check this out!”

Louie glanced down, rolling his eyes at the sight of Dewey moonwalking through the air, moving his hips and arms to a rhythm only he could hear. “Show-off.”

Curious, Huey snapped his gaze down just long enough to catch Dewey’s dance routine before returning his eyes back to Louie’s face. “It’s kinda impressive.”

“I thought you were too scared to look down!”

“I am! But I only looked at Dewey, not what was under him.”

Louie was baffled. “How do you even do that?”

Dewey spun in a circle and flattened himself out, sailing up to join his brothers. Louie and Huey each grabbed one of his wings so that they were free-falling in a circle. “Pretty cool, right?” said Dewey cheerfully.

Huey could not help but smile. “It was very smooth.”

“You guys should try and do some tricks!”

“No way,” said Louie with a strong shake of his head.

“Yeah, I’m good,” said Huey feelingly.

Dewey regarded his brothers, his expression softening. “I’m really, really glad nothing bad happened to you, Huey,” he whispered. “We freaked when we saw you left your Junior Woodchuck Guidebook behind.”

“I’m glad nothing happened to you guys, either,” returned Huey. “I was really happy to see you.”

Louie grinned. “We could tell by how you nearly strangled us with your hug.”

Dewey lightly jostled Louie in the side. “You were great, by the way. That pep talk on the plane was something I needed. Thank you.”

“I knew the Dewey in you was there. You just had to stop trying to be Mom, Uncle Scrooge and Uncle Donald in order to find it. That plane flying of yours is seriously amazing and it’s all you.”

Dewey beamed. “Thanks! I am pretty awesome, aren’t I?”

“So humble, too,” said Huey sarcastically and Louie snickered.

“Heads up!”

The shout caused Huey, Dewey and Louie to look up in time to see Webby was hurtling towards them. Louie and Huey hastily let go and created a space for her to drop through. Before she went out of their reach, they snagged her by the wings, pulling her up to join their circle.

“Hi!” she chirped. “Isn’t this so cool?”

“I did a moonwalk over the clouds!” said Dewey excitedly. “Did you see?”

“I did! It was amazing!”

“Ha! See?” Dewey grinned smugly at his brothers. “Told you I’m awesome.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t wear hats,” said Louie. “That big head of yours wouldn’t fit into any of them.”

Huey studied Webby closely. There was a bright light in her eyes and she didn’t seem to be too fazed by the events of the day. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, wanting to be sure she was all right.

“I’m fine,” she answered with a nod. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re good.” Dewey nibbled on his bottom beak. “Seriously, Webby, about the whole…clone thing. You’re not upset?”

“I was, at first,” admitted Webby. “But I think I was mostly angry. Angry that I was lied to by Granny. That I wasn’t who I thought I was. But I was wrong. It doesn’t matter who made me. It doesn’t matter that I was made and not born. I am the girl I’ve always been. Nothing changes that.

“And…well, I thought I lost my parents a long time ago. Now I have a dad!” Her delight was short-lived as she considered, for the first time, that this might not be something the triplets would be particularly happy with. “Does…does that bother you?” she asked in a small voice. “That I’m his daughter, and that I’m the one who found the Papyrus?”

“No,” Dewey said fiercely. “Not at all.”

“We think it’s so great that Uncle Scrooge is your dad,” said Huey sincerely.

“You were family before we knew about your past,” said Louie. “Why would that change now?”

Webby beamed. “I love you guys.”

“We love you too,” the triplets chorused.

“Hold that form, lads and lass!”

The kids glanced up to see Scrooge careening towards them, a wide grin on his beak. He did not show any signs of diverting from his path and Huey asked nervously, “Uhhhh what is he doing?”

For a moment it seemed like Scrooge would crash right into them. The shriek formed in Huey’s throat but before it could be released his great-uncle soared neatly through the middle of their circle. He somersaulted in place three times before angling his body so that the air carried him back to the kids.

Webby and Louie parted to make room and Scrooge joined the little formation they had created. He gripped Webby and Louie’s wings tightly, his eyes glinting with delight. “Ah knew Ah should have made ye kids wear those life vests.”

“Uncle Scrooge, even if there was water below us, a life vest would be useless given the speed with which we’re falling,” said Huey.

“It’s a joke, goof,” said Louie with a roll of his eyes.

“I know, but I feel we’re having too much fun given our life-threatening situation.”

“That’s never stopped us before,” countered Dewey. “At least this life-threatening situation isn’t, like, dark and dire.”

“We’ll be fine, lad,” said Scrooge, giving Huey a reassuring smile. “Fenton will nae let us plummet tae our deaths.”

“But Mom and Uncle Donald will,” said Louie with a straight face. “Totally don’t blame them.”

“Ye know what Ah mean,” said Scrooge with a slight smirk. His humour faded slightly and he regarded them all seriously. “What happened today was nae like anythin’ we ever faced before. If ye need tae talk, ye know Ah’m—”

“We know,” said Louie, giving Scrooge’s wing a tender squeeze. “We can always talk to you, Mom and Uncle Donald.”

“We already checked in with each other,” spoke Dewey. “We’re fine, Uncle Scrooge. What happened today was hard and terrifying, but we got through it, because we were fighting for each other.”

“Family sees us through, always,” said Webby earnestly.

“Aye, that it does,” said Scrooge with deep fondness. He surveyed the children that had changed his life so completely, an intense love burning bright in his heart. “Ah love ye kids. Always.”

“And we’ll always love you,” said Dewey with devotion, and Huey, Louie and Webby chimed in with their affirmations.

Though a warm fuzziness filled Huey’s chest, the anxiety still tingled, not letting him forget about their current predicament. “I hate to have another cute family moment interrupted, but we really should start making our way to the others.”

Dewey and Louie shared a mischievous glance. “All right, all right,” said Louie casually. “You want a boost?”

Huey blinked. “A boost? What does that—?”

Louie let go of Scrooge’s wing and Dewey pulled on Huey’s arm, yanking him from Webby’s hold. Ignoring Huey’s protests, Dewey and Louie each took one of his wings and used all their strength to send Huey hurtling downwards, where the others were scattered at various altitudes in their own free falls.

The sky flipped in all directions, just like Huey’s stomach, as he spun out of control through the air. Huey screamed with panic as he flailed, trying to put his body back into a stable position and failing.

“I haaaaaate you guuuuuuuuuys!” he wailed, even though he was sure his brothers couldn’t hear him any longer.

Alerted by the screams, B.O.Y.D. looked up to see Huey twisting towards him. He reached out and tried to grab his best friend, but missed the fabric of his red shirt by inches. Huey pitched below them and B.O.Y.D. cried out, “Huey!”

Gyro activated the communication function of Lil Bulb, connecting him to Gizmoduck’s helmet. “You’ve got Hat Nephew incoming,” he said.

Fenton snapped his gaze up. He could hear Huey’s screams but couldn’t see the boy. He was about to ask Gyro if Huey was still in his sight when the red-clad duckling plummeted through a cloud just above their heads.

Fenton jerked backwards, tilting his head as far back as possible so that Huey wouldn’t get hurt on his propeller. Gandra extended her wings and there was an oof from both her and Huey as she caught him.

“We’ve got him,” Fenton reported to Gyro.

Huey clung to Gandra, his stomach still twisting and turning despite the fact was he no longer moving. His heart raced in his chest and his breaths shuddered out of him. Gandra tightened her grip and said soothingly, “You’re okay, Huey. We’ve got you.”

“What happened?” asked Fenton in concern.

“My…brothers…are…jerks,” he wheezed.

“Siblings can be like that,” said Gandra in amusement.

Huey caught his breath and the roaring in his ears died down. He properly processed his surroundings, finding himself pressed against Gandra’s chest with his head tucked against her chin. She was in Fenton’s arms, cradled securely against the chest piece of the Gizmoduck armour.

Huey’s cheeks burned red. “I ruined a sweet moment, didn’t I? I am so sorry.”

“You did,” said Gandra with a teasing lilt.

“But now we’re having a new moment,” said Fenton cheerfully, briefly raising one armour-covered wing to stroke Huey’s feathers.

“Ugh, gross,” said Gandra, pulling a face, but a smile broke through when Huey wound his wings around her neck.

Up above, the cackling of Louie and Dewey was promptly cut off by a firm grip falling on their ears. “Ow,” whined Dewey. “Uncle Scrooge!”

“Ye know your brother does nae like tae be surprised like that,” he said sharply.

“That was mean,” chided Webby, crossing her wings over her chest.

Louie’s phone trilled in his pocket and, bewildered, he pulled it out. “Uncle Donald?” he said in confusion.

Scrooge let go of their ears and said knowingly, “Answer it.”

Louie tapped the screen and brought his phone to his newly-freed ear. “Uh…hello?”

“Where’s Huey?” barked Donald. “What happened?”

Eyes wide, Louie darted his gaze left, right and center. But Donald was nowhere in sight and he said in disbelief, “Wait, where are you? Did Huey fly by you?”

“He’s not with you?!”

“How did you even know?” cried Louie.

“It’s that sixth sense he’s got,” grumbled Dewey. “He always knows when we’re up to something.”

Scrooge nicked the phone and said smoothly, “The boys thought it would be funny tae throw Huey through the air. He’s fine, Ah saw Fenton catch him. Hmm? Yes, one moment.”

Scrooge returned the phone to Louie and, knowing what was coming next, he muttered, “Thanks a lot, Uncle Scrooge.”

“Yeah, thanks,” said Dewey with a pout.

“Ah trust ye two will be able tae find your way tae the others,” said Scrooge pointedly. “Come along, Webby Darlin’.”

Webby happily linked up with Scrooge and together they soared downwards. Louie winced and put his phone on speaker. Donald’s voice, already in mid-rant, erupted through the air.

“—and this is not the time to be goofing around or flinging your brother through the sky! When we get down to the ground you are going to apologize! Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Uncle Donald,” Louie and Dewey mumbled.

“And we want some sincerity when you apologize,” chimed in Della sternly. “You know your brother has anxiety. There’s a line, boys, and chucking your brother through the open sky by himself while we’re in free fall definitely crosses it.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Do we need to come and get you?” asked Donald warningly.

“No!” said Dewey quickly. “No, we’re on our way down.”

“Don’t dawdle!”

The line went silent as Donald hung up. Louie sighed and stuck his phone back in his pocket. “You know the thing about having a big family? A lot of parental figures.”

“Isn’t it great?” said Dewey happily.

Louie snorted. “Yeah, when I’m not in trouble.”

He performed a spin before angling his body directly downwards. He went gliding away and Dewey stayed in place, the wind whipping past him. He spread his wings and fell backwards, his gaze trained on the bright blue expanse above him.

A few years ago, Donald freaked if they went onto their docked houseboat without their life vests. Now here they were, free-falling thousands of feet through the sky, and his uncle wasn’t tearing his feathers out trying to get to them. He trusted them to make their way to safety without his help.

But the protectiveness had been in Donald’s voice, just as strong as ever. Dewey knew, even if his uncle had learned to let go, he would always be there.

The thought of Donald and his near-death experience caused tears to spring to Dewey’s eyes. He swiped them away and refused to dwell on the memory that had nearly broken his heart. His uncle was safe. His family was safe.

The family that risked life and limb to save each other. A family that was much bigger than Dewey ever imagined it would be. A family he loved with his whole being.

Dewey flipped over and soared downwards. He spotted B.O.Y.D. holding Gyro by the back of his vest, his rocket feet propelling them through the sky and keeping them out of gravity’s mercy. In Gyro’s arms were Lil Bulb and Louie.

“The extra load isn’t too much for you, is it?” Dewey asked when he came within earshot.

“Not at all!” said B.O.Y.D. brightly. “Dr. Gearloose is quite light.”

“I wasn’t talking about Gyro,” said Dewey with a snicker.

Louie glared up at him. “Shut up.”

“I’m sorry, the Gyro Express is closed,” said Gyro flatly.

“Don’t listen to him,” dismissed Louie. “He told me the same thing.”

Gyro narrowed his eyes. “I can still drop you, Green Nephew.”

Louie groaned. “Come on, man. How long are you going to pretend you don’t know our names?”

“I don’t,” said Gyro with a sniff. “I haven’t gotten around to it. I’m a busy scientist. I don’t have time to learn the names of snot-nosed brats.”

“You can ride with me if you want,” offered B.O.Y.D.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m gonna go find Launchpad.” He extended a fist and said warmly, “Thank you, B.O.Y.D. You put yourself in a lot of danger to save my brother. That means a lot to me.”

“To us,” corrected Louie seriously.

“I’d do anything for Huey,” said B.O.Y.D. passionately. “I’d do anything for any of you.”

They exchanged a fist-bump and Dewey grabbed hold of Louie’s cheeks, squishing them together. “I love you, little bro.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” whined Louie. He reached up and wrapped his wing around Dewey’s neck, pulling him as close as he could for a hug. “But despite that, I love you too.”

Gyro gave a yelp of surprise when Dewey hugged him next. Squeezing tight, Dewey whispered, “You saved Uncle Donald’s life. I can’t repay you for that, because it means absolutely everything to me, but I’ll try.”

“Yeah,” said Louie softly, resting his head against Gyro’s chest. “We owe you.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Gyro gruffly, lightly setting his wing against the top of Dewey’s head. “You don’t owe me anything. It’s, uh, what family does. The whole saving each other thing.”

“He said it!” crowed Louie, gripping the front of Gyro’s shirt and shaking him. “He said we’re family!”

Gyro’s teeth rattled from the rough motion. “Knock it off! I mean it, I will drop you. Louie!”

“Ha! You do know our names!”

Dewey laughed as Gyro spluttered angrily. He continued his descent and it was barely a few minutes of falling later when he came upon Fenton, Gandra and Huey. “Eyyyy! How was your trip, Huey?”

“Terrifying!” snapped Huey, straining to smack at his brother.

“Listen, Uncle Donald told us to apologize, but he said to do it when we’re on the ground and we’re not on the ground yet, soooooo…”

“You are the worst.”

“You’re confusing me with Louie,” said Dewey jokingly.

“This isn’t the time to play around,” scolded Fenton lightly. “Hop on.”

“Thanks, but I’m on my way to Launchpad. Just wanted to stop by and give my big bro some love.” He rested his forehead against Huey’s and said affectionately, “I love you.”

His ire melting, Huey wrapped his wings around his brother. “I love you too. Even when you tap dance at three in the morning.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” said Fenton warmly.

Gandra furrowed her brow. “You tap dance at three in the morning?”

“Sometimes I get restless,” said Dewey simply. “I like to dance it off.”

“But why tap dancing specifically?”

“It calms me down.”

“Er…okay.”

Dewey regarded her, the way her arms were wrapped securely around Huey and how his brother was nestled comfortably against her. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “For helping out my family today. This is, like, a weird way to officially meet, but I can’t wait to get to know you better. From everything Huey’s said about you, you’re awesome.”

“He talks about me?” said Gandra, touched.

“All the time.”

“Not all the time,” said Huey quickly. “A reasonable amount of time.”

“I’m flattered, Red.” Gandra playfully pinched his cheek. She smiled at the boy in blue and said, “Thanks, Dewey. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, too. I’ve never really found a place where I fit in before. I think your family might be what I’ve always been looking for.”

“It is,” said Dewey confidently. “Right, Fenton?”

“Absolutely,” said Fenton with a nod. “I…I didn’t think I had what it took to be a hero. But Launchpad, Mr. McDuck, you guys and everyone else showed me I was wrong. You are the reasons I fight.”

“So much mush,” said Gandra with a shudder.

“Get used to it,” teased Fenton. “You sure you don’t want to ride with us, Dewey?”

“Huey’s with his best friend and I ought to go to mine. See you in a few!”

It took a bit longer before he encountered the next group. The girls were all surrounded with Lena’s blue magic, keeping them anchored in the sky and letting them move as they pleased. Dewey cupped his wings around his beak and he shouted, “Webby!”

“Dewey!” she shrieked back gleefully.

She opened her wings and Dewey performed a spin before landing in her embrace. He gripped her tightly and whispered, “Thank you, Webby. For believing in me even when I didn’t. For not giving up even when I wanted to. I couldn’t have found out what happened to Mom without you.”

“I’ll always believe in you, Dewey,” said Webby fiercely, clinging to his shoulders. “Thanks for trusting me with your secrets.”

“Awwwwwwww.”

The coos came from the gathered girls, though Lena’s was a touch more sarcastic than sincere. Dewey stuck his tongue out at her and she made a face at him in return. He spun around so he could fully face May and June and took hold of their wings.

“Webby is like, the best sister you could ask for. I know everything is going to be crazy different for you now, but it’s going to be way better. I promise.”

“We’ve never been part of a family before,” said June hesitantly.

“I didn’t have a family at first, either,” said Lena softly. She pulled Violet against her side and said warmly, “But Violet and Webby changed that for me, and we’re going to change it for you.”

“We’ll show you the ropes,” said Violet confidently. “Don’t worry. You will be well-loved.”

May peeked at Dewey and said hopefully, “We always wondered what it would be like to have a brother.”

“Now you’ve got three,” said Dewey with a grin. “I’m the best triplet, though, but I’m sure you’ll soon figure that out.”

“Okay, one of the rules of this family, Huey is the most trustworthy triplet,” said Lena with a roll of her eyes. “So, like, don’t take anything this dork says seriously.”

“Noted,” chirped May and June.

Dewey clutched at his heart. “I am wounded.”

“Whatever,” said Lena with a snort. “You wanna fly with us?”

“I’m actually on my way to Launchpad. I thought I’d see you before I passed by.”

“Group hug before you go!” whooped Webby.

Dewey found himself smushed between the group of girls. “Cooties! I’m infected!”

May blinked. “Cooties?”

“Get outta here!” said Lena with a laugh.

Dewey found himself encased with blue magic. He yipped as Lena flung him down and as he twisted and spun through the air, he found the inspiration for his apology to Huey.

Thanks to the burst of power from Lena’s magic, Dewey came upon Manny, Mrs. Beakley, Scrooge, Della and Donald much quicker. “Heeeeeey!” he said dizzily as he finally straightened himself out.

“What are you doing?” demanded Donald. “I told you not to dawdle!”

“I’m not! I’m on my way to Launchpad!”

“Where are your brothers?” asked Della with a frown.

“Louie’s with Gyro and B.O.Y.D. and Huey’s with Fenton and Gandra.”

“Is Webby still with the girls?” asked Mrs. Beakley.

“Yup! Just passed them.”

“Launchpad is too far down,” insisted Donald. “Get over here.”

“I’m going to be fine! I can literally see Launchpad from here, it won’t take long.” Dewey grinned at Manny and said, “Love the makeover, by the way. Beyond epic.”

“I must say, it’s nice to have my own head once again,” Manny replied.

“Don’t see what was wrong with the other one,” said Scrooge under his breath.

“All right, before I go, I have some very important things to say,” declared Dewey. He drifted over to Mrs. Beakley and folded his wings around her neck. “Thanks for being our protector,” he said softly. “I love you.”

Mrs. Beakley set a wing against his back. “I love you too, Dewey. I will always fight the battles you cannot,” she said strongly. “And thank you, for all you’ve done for my—for Web—”

“For your granddaughter,” interrupted Dewey firmly. “She’s your granddaughter.”

It took Mrs. Beakley a minute before she could speak past the lump that formed in her throat. “Yes. She is.”

Dewey latched onto his great-uncle next and Scrooge wasted no time into pulling his nephew against his chest. “Ah’ve hunted years for the most sought-after treasures,” he whispered. “But ye kids and your uncle reminded me that there will never be a greater treasure than my family. Ah love ye, Dewey.”

“I love you too,” said Dewey, nuzzling into the front of Scrooge’s coat. “You taught me so much. You showed me the world. You helped me realize that I’m special as I am, and that the only one who thought I wasn’t good enough was me.”

“Ye are perfect joost the way ye are,” murmured Scrooge. “Do nae ever change.”

“Thanks, Uncle Scrooge.”

Scrooge gently let him go and Dewey floated back into the air. He angled himself in front of his mother and uncle and, at the sight of the tears already building in their eyes, his own started to spill over.

“You know, I’m the luckiest kid in the world. When I set out to solve the mystery of my mom, I only wanted to know what happened to her. I thought she was lost, but then I found her. She wasn’t who I thought she was—she was even better than that. She’s been trying to be the best mother she can be ever since she came back and though she makes mistakes sometimes, I know she loves us, and she’s already taught each of us so much. She’s amazing.

“Even if I didn’t understand it or always appreciate it, I was protected for the first decade of my life by someone who loved me and my brothers more than anything else in the world. He loved us enough to bring us to meet our great-uncle, and we’ve grown together ever since. I know that even if he learned to let go, he’ll always be close enough for me to reach out and grab hold of. I never had to go searching for my dad because he’s been with me since the day I was hatched.”

Donald seized Dewey by a wing and pulled the boy into his embrace. Della twisted around and placed one wing on the back of Donald’s neck while the other curled around Dewey’s waist. Donald nuzzled his beak against the top of Dewey’s head and the duckling clung to them, tears splashing down his cheeks.

“I love you,” he said tearfully. “I love you both so much. I’m who I am because of you.”

“No, you’re who you are because of your uncle,” said Della with gratitude. “The best brother a girl could ask for, and the best dad. I see so much of Donald in you and your brothers.”

“When I look at them, I see you,” countered Donald, lightly running his wing through Dewey’s feathers. “Their spirit, their love of adventure and their strength is all you.”

“No,” said Scrooge, his voice thick with emotion. “The boys are both of ye. Ah know because the traits that drove me crazy when ye were kids are the same traits that these kids have.”

Donald and Della looked at each other and laughed. Della wiped the tears from Dewey’s face and kissed his forehead. “I love you, baby. I am so, so proud of you.”

“You boys are my world,” said Donald tenderly. “That’ll never change.”

Dewey beamed. “You guys are my world, too.”

“Now go to Launchpad before I strap you to Manny,” said Donald.

“I would prefer if you didn’t,” the horse said.

Donald and Della raised their wings with Dewey holding on. For a moment he floated in the grasp of his guardians, and Dewey’s heart felt like it would burst from the amount of love he felt.

The twins let go and Dewey tuck and rolled, sailing further down. He spun onto his back to blow Scrooge, Della and Donald a kiss, which they mimed catching in unison with adoring, loving smiles on their beaks.

Dewey fell into a dive and he hollered, “Launchpad!”

“Little buddy!” cried Launchpad.

“Can I ride with you?”

“You sure can! Get over here!”

Dewey fell level beside Gosalyn and she grinned at him. “All right! Now we balance out the nerdiness with our coolness!”

“You know it!” he cheered, high-fiving her.

Darkwing ruffled his feathers. “Better get secure, kiddo. I think the ground’s fast approaching.”

Launchpad grabbed hold of Dewey and the boy let out a small squeak as he was sandwiched against the pilot’s broad chest. “Don’t worry, Dewey. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know you will,” said Dewey with a smile. “Thanks for being my best friend, Launchpad. You inspire me every day. I love you.”

“Aw, buddy, I love you too,” said Launchpad with a sniffle, squeezing Dewey even tighter. “But you inspire me way more.”

“You’ll never guess what happened in the evil guy’s lair,” said Gosalyn eagerly.

“What happened?”

“Launchpad became Gizmoduck! He kicked butt and it was awesome!”

Dewey craned his neck and said excitedly, “You got to borrow Gizmoduck’s armour?!”

“I sure did!” said Launchpad proudly.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

As Launchpad started to tell an enthralled Dewey the story, Darkwing turned to Gosalyn and frowned. “Wait. Borrowed? I thought Launchpad was Gizmoduck.”

Gosalyn shook her head fondly and lightly tapped Darkwing’s beak. “Yeah, no, he’s definitely not, Clueless One.”

“Hey!”

[ri-ahhh]

if you do feel like writing, i've always thought you would really kill a concept about your first or one of your first dates with grayson!!😇 i feel like you capture his energy sooo well

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

She glanced up from her phone at the sound of a frantic voice, deep and familiar and slightly out of breath.

Her stomach swooped a little at the sight of Grayson towering above her. His cheeks were slightly flushed, hazel eyes wide and scared.

As they should be. She shook her head and let a smirk grace her freshly glossed lips, standing to greet him with a questioning, arched brow. Playing it as cool as she possibly can while dying slightly at (one) the relief flooding her chest and (two) how utterly fine he looked in those casual tailored pants and short sleeved button-down.

“You had me worried for a minute there, Dolan,” she admitted, the heels of her thigh-high boots making her the perfect height to lean up and peck his cheek both in greeting and as a silent acceptance of his apology.

Grayson kissed her back on her own cheek, and took her hand as they both sat down at the table she had been saving for nearly 45 minutes by then. His palm was warm and the perfect mix of calloused and soft, and his fingers squeezed hers as his thumb rubbed the backs of them gently.

“Really, I’m so fucking sorry. I totally forgot they opened a new location a few months ago. I feel like the biggest dick,” he pouted.

She shrugged, secretly enjoying listening to him grovel and watching him almost literally sweat in his seat. While they had hung out casually a couple of times, this was their first official date, and he had named the place... only to leave out some crucial information that left them at the same restaurant, on different sides of town.

“I think the waiter was starting to feel sorry for me. He asked if I was okay and gave me a free margarita about ten minutes ago,” she said, nodding to the mostly untouched glass of frozen slush in front of her.

“Fuck,” Grayson groaned, face-palming and tipping his head back. She finally let a full grin light up her face, biting her lip through it as she watched his Adam’s apple bob in the shadowy light of the restaurant.

He brought his head back to a normal position, and she caught the look of surprise flash in his eyes when he realized she wasn’t that upset. His lips turned up at the corner in a sheepish, crooked smile that made her melt a bit. “Well, if you weren’t gonna let me pay for dinner before, now you definitely have to.”

She giggled and squeezed his hand before letting go, bringing it to the straw of her margarita instead to give the melting ice a stir. “Yeah, I think I might allow it this one time.”

At that moment, the waiter, a jolly middle-aged Hispanic man, returned with two fresh water glasses and an excited shout. “Hey! He’s here!”

She and Grayson both blushed — Gray more so than her. He held up his hands and glanced down in defeat while she laughed heartily.

“He’s here!” she confirmed, resting her chin on her fist and observing the redness in his cheeks subside. “And he’s very sorry for keeping both of us waiting, Mateo.”

“Ay, I knew there was no way anyone was leaving this pretty lady alone on purpose,” Mateo winked. He turned a slightly stern gaze on Grayson. “Right?”

“Oh.. yeah, no, not on purpose,” he blubbered, unprepared for a barrage from the waiter of all people.

Mateo gave him a playful side eye and tutted. “Well, I’ll take care of both of you, and you take care of her, eh?”

Grayson stared, and she had to bite back more laughter at the look of utter bewilderment on his handsome face. “Uh, yes, of course. We were just discussing that, actually.”

The waiter grunted in approval, but left them with a wink after accepting their order of guac to go with the chips and salsa already on the table.

“Why do I feel like I just met your dad?” he asked, watching the man disappear into the kitchen with a shake of his head, slightly dazed.

She swallowed her sip of margarita and smiled. “Oh, you wouldn’t have met my dad if he saw me sitting here alone longer than 15 minutes. He would have been out on the hunt for you.”

“Shit,” he mumbled. “This is gonna take a while to live down, isn’t it?”

“Let’s just say, I can’t wait to tell your brother what an idiot you are.”

“Oh god. That would make ‘a while’ quickly become ‘never.’”

They slipped into easy conversation, as they always did. It was seamless and flowing, made even better by the delicious dinner they had. The little bit of tequila in her system was affecting her in all the right ways by the time Mateo cleared the table and handed Grayson the check without even asking.

They had been sitting across from one another the whole night, but Grayson slid into the seat next to her once Mateo was gone for good. His big, warm palm found her knee, and his fingertips squeezed just enough to send a shock up her thigh, electrifying all of her.

She reached up and swiped at a little drop of water clinging to the inside of his top lip, letting her hand linger on his stubbled cheek so she could stroke it affectionately with her thumb.

“Thanks for not standing me up,” she said quietly, barely audible over the loud mariachi music blasting through the restaurant. She pressed the pad of her thumb into a cute dimple in his cheek.

“You’re welcome,” he joked back, twisting his head and nipping playfully at the digit, eyes locked on hers. “I would have missed out on a pretty awesome date.”

Her teeth caught her lower lip. “And an even better nightcap,” she added suggestively.

She felt as much as she heard his sharp little inhale, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, siding her hand down his chest until it rested on his, interlacing their fingers before she stood up decisively. “I think you’ve redeemed yourself.”

Grayson chuckled, but there was suddenly a heat in his eyes that undoubtedly matched that in her own. He followed her up and turned to lead her out of the restaurant. “Let’s fucking go.”

Mateo gave them an enthusiastic wink and a thumbs up as they left.

“I think you got his approval after all,” she laughed, sliding into the passenger seat of his car. Hers would be fine in the well-lit lot until he could bring her back to it at some point later.

Much later, if she had it her way.

“Oh hell yeah,” he muttered, already reaching across the console to coax her closer with a gentle hand on the side of her neck. “Think he would approve of what I’m about to do to you?”

Before she could answer, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her in a slow, heated kiss that set her whole body on fire. Her hand gripped his veined forearm tightly as she kissed him back. She hummed quietly when they finally separated, both of them breathing heavily. “How about we leave Mateo out of this from now on?”

“Great idea,” he whispered, diving back in quickly, their happy smiles melding together. He pulled back reluctantly after a minute, nodding at her seatbelt as he sat back and fastened his own with a wink.

“One car this time; I’ll make sure we both get to the right spot, at the same time.”

[naughtyneganjdm]

A Compromise - Chapter 5

Summary: Negan pressures Y/N after thinking she may not be okay with the idea of him having a daughter. The truth about Sam is revealed and Y/N gets to see a side of Negan she had never really seen before.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Sam, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, etc. 

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834154/chapters/75051987

Notes: Sorry this took so long to post!

“Of course I don’t have a problem with you having a daughter. I just thought maybe that would be something that you would have told me ahead of time,” Y/N answered while Negan stared out at her expectantly waiting for her answer after the arrival of Sam. It seemed like a lot of their relationship would depend on her answer by the look on his face. The idea that she may be upset by him having a daughter really seemed to offend Negan. Maybe she came off aggressive about him having a daughter, but deep down it didn’t bother her at all. That would have been something silly for her to be upset about. It was just something she figured Negan would have told her. Then again, they weren’t really dating so he owed her nothing in terms of an explanation. “If I would have known your daughter was coming over, I would have made sure we weren’t in the middle of painting a room.”

“Two things,” Sam stepped forward from where she was standing behind Negan to make her presence known once more. “One, I think painting rooms are awesome. My mom paints the rooms in our house all the time and I always help. So, I don’t mind. It’s cooler than just sitting around and doing nothing. It gives us time to get to know each other. Work together. There is nothing wrong with that.”

“You want to get to know me?” Y/N stammered, her head tilting to the side as Sam giggled and pulled her long, blonde hair back.  

“Of course I do. If you are his girlfriend, why wouldn’t I?” Sam muttered, her brow line creasing much as Y/N had seen Negan’s do before making her wonder even more if Sam was Negan’s daughter. “If you’re important to Negan, you’re important to me.”

“Well, that’s very sweet,” Y/N looked between Sam and Negan noticing the way that Negan was staring down at Sam while she spoke.

“Well, I want Negan happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him happy,” Sam reached out to poke Negan in the abdomen making Negan chuckle when she did it. “But I never got to my part two and part two is…I’m not his daughter.”

“Sam,” Negan snorted and Sam threw her hands up in the air. Obviously, Negan wasn’t going to drop that last bit of information until he knew that Y/N wouldn’t have a problem with him being a father.

“Being honest is the best thing you can do in a relationship,” Sam reminded Negan making Negan let out a hearty laugh at her advice. “Of course, he’s always been like a father to me, but he’s my uncle. Well…he’s kind of my uncle.”

“Sam, I’ve been around since you were born. I’m your uncle,” Negan grumbled and Sam smiled brightly, turning to look to Y/N again. Negan reached out to wrap his arm loosely around Sam’s shoulders before pulling her in closer to him. “Sam is Lucille’s sister’s daughter.”

“And I’m also his goddaughter. My mom and Negan here were pretty good friends. Well one of my moms thinks he’s great. The other one…” Sam looked up at Negan and chuckled when Negan hushed her.

“Moms?” Y/N repeated what Sam said and saw Sam proudly nod her head.

“Yeah, I have two moms. So, I guess you could say that Negan was the closest thing to a father I’ve had my whole life,” Sam muttered and laughed when Negan picked her up in his arms to pull her close to his chest. Planting a kiss on Sam’s cheek caused her to groan out making Negan laugh again when she did it. The interaction between the two of them made Y/N laugh and Negan smirked when he noticed Y/N was amused with them. “One of my moms is a doctor. She’s the one that was Aunt Lucille’s sister. My other mom travels for business. When my mom travels for business she always has me come over and be with Negan. Even when they aren’t traveling, they let me spend at least one weekend a month with Negan. Plus, I like hanging out with him. He’s a great uncle. We do a lot of fun things and he’s a really great guy.”

“How much do I owe you for talking good about me like that?” Negan teased, squeezing Sam close to him.

“I’ll take a twenty please,” Sam held her hand up and Negan chuckled as he set her down back to her feet. Negan pulled his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill for her. Sam pocketed the money and laughed making Y/N entertained when they did it. “Were you two in the pool together? Since you’re both wet.”

“Yeah, we were in the middle of painting and I just got hot,” Negan lied, looking back at Y/N knowing that they needed to talk, but it would be hard for them to do that with Sam there. “Why don’t you head to the room and pick out the brush you want to use to paint. I’ll be right in there.”

“Is Y/N coming?” Sam inquired and Negan shrugged his shoulders. That wasn’t an answer he could give Sam because he didn’t know what kind of mindset that Y/N was in. Or if she’d even want to be around him. “Well, it would be cool to get to know her if she was staying. Either way, it was nice to meet you Y/N…in case you’re leaving.”

“It was very nice to meet you too Sam,” Y/N gave a wink and watched Sam wave before heading down the hallway. When Sam was gone, Negan turned to Y/N with one of his eyebrows arched. They both were quiet until they knew for sure that they were alone. “I should probably allow you to spend time with your niece. Having me around makes things complicated.”

“It really doesn’t. I would rather you stay here,” Negan insisted her with a heavy sigh, folding his arms out in front of his chest.

“You once again said what we did was a mistake,” she reminded him and Negan frowned as he shifted his weight. There was a silence between them as Negan searched for the right thing to say to her. “Why are you so against being with me?”

“I’ve already told you the answer to that. I just feel bad because we had our first kiss and I just let things get out of hand,” Negan responded with a frown, lifting his right hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “I don’t regret kissing you; I just regret pushing you into what followed.”

“You didn’t push me into anything,” she denied that idea and Negan tilted his head to the side, not believing what she was saying. “You didn’t.”

“You were nervous. I was pushing too much and too fast,” Negan stepped forward, his hand sliding in over her hip and she let out a tense breath. “I don’t regret having you around here. I don’t regret kissing you…”

“That’s not the way it seemed,” she went to bicker with him as he dipped down to collect her lips in a kiss. The kiss was slow, meticulous and absolutely took her breath away. With the way Negan caressed over the small of her back while kissing her felt amazing. Chills went down her spine and when Negan pulled away from her, she could feel her body trembling.

“I want things to be perfect with you,” Negan asserted, his face scrunching up as he thought about what they did. “You deserve perfect. We went from kissing to…”

Negan looked over his shoulder to make sure they were alone, but Y/N reached out to draw him to look back to her knowing they were alone. Tipping up on her toes, she met him in another desperate kiss hearing him hum when she did it. Instead of being uptight, they both loosened up while their kiss continued and she could feel Negan possessively grasping at the side of her neck.  

“Whoever painted the right side of the wall…” Sam moved out into the hallway making both Y/N and Negan hop back from each other. When Sam saw the two of them, she snorted and shook her head slowly. “Never mind, I’ll talk to you when you guys are…finished.”

“Nice Sam,” Negan looked back at his niece seeing the way she shrugged her shoulders before heading back into the room. When Sam was gone, Negan turned to look at Y/N and he sighed heavily. “I told you when people…get with me…things just fall apart and I don’t want that between us.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen Negan,” she tried to assure him, looking down toward the ground. The soft stroking of Negan’s fingertips was felt against the side of her face. It caused a shuddering breath to fall from her throat and she lifted her gaze. “We do have a deal after all.”

“Yeah, I guess we do,” Negan acknowledged, lowering his hand when she clearly brought up the fact that they weren’t exactly official to begin with. There was a sense of disappointment in his eyes, but he shrugged his shoulders and tried to brush that feeling away. “It’s your choice. You can stay and get to know my niece if you want. Or you can go and we can get together again at some point. I would prefer you stay.”

“And that’s what you want?” Y/N confirmed and Negan nodded his head. “That’s not going to make this feel odd? Since I’m not really your girlfriend and she thinks that I am.”

“You’re the closest thing to a girlfriend I’ve had since Lucille,” Negan reasoned with her, throwing his hands up in the air in a dramatic manner. “Let’s be honest, our relationship isn’t…conventional, but it’s a relationship none the less.”

“Are you sure it’s okay if I stay?” she confirmed seeing Negan seem to perk up when she thought about staying with them. “I don’t want your niece to hate me.”

“She won’t,” Negan replied with a firm shake of his head. “I would really rather you two get to know each other. Sam is a good kid. A little spicy, but she usually likes everyone unless they give her a reason not to. I know you; you’re not someone she wouldn’t like. You two I think would get along quite well.”

“And you want me here?” by now she probably sounded like a broken record and she knew it. The crack of a smile that pressed in over his lips made her realize she had asked that one too many times. There was something about those dimples of his that just made her weak in the knees as he smiled at her nervousness. All he had to do was smile and it made it feel like everything was right in the world. That’s the kind of charm he had.  

“How many times do I have to say yes before you realize that I sincerely want you here?” Negan stepped forward to wrap his arm around her waist to draw her in closer to him. “If my niece makes you uncomfortable, you can leave. She’s going to be here today and tomorrow. You’re welcome to stay. But I understand if you would like to leave. The choice is yours.”

Negan stepped back and waited for her decision. When she continued to stand in the foyer and didn’t make a move to leave, he took that as her answer. Reaching out his hand for her, she accepted it and moved back toward the room with him to work on the room again. When they entered the room he was painting for her, the music playlist that Sam had picked was blasting while she worked on the walls.

“Damn you’re a fast cookie,” Negan released Y/N’s hand slowly as he took a look at what Sam had done already. Sam looked back at them to see Y/N was still there and a smile expanded over Sam’s features.

“Hey! You stayed,” Sam winked before going back to work on helping to get the primer on the walls. “I’m glad you stayed, that way we can gossip about Negan.”

“Hey now,” Negan reached for the paint roller that he had set aside and he waved on Y/N to have her come in closer with them. Negan moved in beside Sam to wrap his arm around her shoulders to give her a firm squeeze. “No gossiping about Negan during this time period please. We’re just going to work together on these walls and keep our mouths shuts.”

“Well that’s boring shit then,” Sam snorted making Negan laugh when she said it and it made Y/N crack a smile. Sam definitely took after he uncle. That was for sure. “We’re going to talk about things whether you like it or not. Sitting in silence is not fun.”

Sam poked Negan in the side before grabbing his roller. Setting the roller in a paint tray, she handed it to Negan and nodded toward the other side of the room, “Y/N and I will work together. You can go work to yourself over there.”

“My own niece is kicking me out?” Negan placed his hand in over the center of his chest to feign being hurt. The way Sam laughed drew attention to her dimples and it made Y/N chuckle herself at how giggly the two of them were together. “I feel cheated.”

“It’s okay. We’re probably going to have to fix your side anyways,” Sam shoved into Negan to get him to go away toward the other side of the room. When Negan went to his area of the room, Sam urged Y/N to start working with her. “So…how long have you known Negan?”

“Uh…” Y/N looked back at Negan who was eyeing her over while looking over his shoulder working on the other side of the room. There was an expression on Negan’s face that showed her he didn’t really know what the answer for that should have been either. “Not for very long.”

“I see,” Sam worked on her side of the wall and Y/N did her side. Y/N was honest with Sam. Honesty was the best like Sam had said earlier. After a minute, Sam cleared her throat and looked to Y/N with her big, green eyes. “So what are your intentions with him?”

“Sam!” Negan snorted from where he was and Sam threw her hands up in the air defensively, holding the paintbrush haphazardly while it dripped on the drop cloth beneath them. “I would actually not like to scare this one off, okay? Questions like that so early in a relationship…not cool.”

“This one? You act like you’ve had multiple women around,” Sam retorted with a wrinkle of her nose before going back to working. An embarrassed expression flushed over Negan’s features when his eyes connected with Y/N’s. It may have embarrassed Negan, but Y/N actually found it kind of cute that Sam would ask that. It meant she cared about her uncle. There was nothing wrong with that. “I’m sorry if I upset you. You’re just the first girl that my uncle has been around since my aunt died and I just want to make sure you want what’s best for him.”

“I very much like your uncle,” Y/N took a moment to speak, but when she gathered her thoughts she assured Sam of how she felt. “I know about your Aunt Lucille and I really like spending time with your uncle. He’s unique and he treats me really well. Better than a lot of people have my entire life.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” Sam stammered with a sigh making Negan chuckle in the background behind them. “He’s really good to me too. Has always treated me like I was his own child. Buys me things. Pampers me. He really likes animals. Did you know that? Every few weeks we go and volunteer at a shelter. He really loves dogs, but my Aunt Lucille was allergic so he never got one. I hope you can convince him to get one soon. It’d be nice to have a dog to play with when I come here.”

“I’ll have to see what I can do,” Y/N smirked as Negan let out a sigh.

“What she hasn’t told you is that she keeps asking her moms for a dog and they keep telling her no, so she wants me to get her one and pretend it’s mine,” Negan informed Y/N with a snort and he watched Sam look over her shoulder to stick her tongue out at him. Returning the gesture, Negan stuck his tongue out at her as well making Y/N laugh at their silliness. “Which in reality, I’ll be the one training it, living with it, feeding it, taking care of it…all of that fun stuff. So it will be my dog.”

“Dogs make you happy Negan,” Sam insisted moving closer to the middle of the wall so she could work on the lower parts while Y/N worked on the higher parts of the wall. “I’m sure having Y/N here makes you happy, but imagine how happy you will be if you have a dog here too. A new girlfriend and a new dog? That sounds like the ultimate happiness to me.”

“That sounds like exhaustion to me,” Negan teased as he finished up with the wall he was working on and moved to the next part. “What am I going to do with the poor puppy when you’re at school and I’m at work? He or she will be all alone to themself.”

“What does Y/N do? Could she watch it?” Sam looked to Y/N with big eyes and Y/N glanced over at Negan. Multiple times already, she had looked to Negan for some kind of answer, but he seemed just as blank as her as to what to say to his niece.  

“If the time ever comes where it feels right and your uncle wanted to get a puppy, then I would have no problem babysitting it,” Y/N answered knowing that she could have left it at that, but she didn’t want to leave Negan in the hole where Sam was expecting him to immediately get one. “I think because the bond you want to have with a puppy, your uncle might want to wait until something like summer time so that way him and the puppy could have time together. Only have two days a week with work with the puppy might be hard on both Negan and the puppy with separation anxiety.”

“When you put it like that…” Sam spoke in a slow slur before shrugging her shoulders, “I guess that kind of makes sense.”

They finished with the primer and talked about random odds and ends before following Negan into the kitchen for some dinner while they waited for the primer to dry so they could actually paint the color in the room that they had been working on. While they sat at the island in Negan’s kitchen, Y/N could see that Sam’s eyes were hooked on her curiously.

“You’re very pretty,” Sam complimented Y/N and Y/N couldn’t help at smile over how sweet Negan’s niece had turned out to be.

“And you’re very pretty too,” Y/N repeated and Negan looked back at the two of them as he put something together for them to eat. Negan gave a wink and Y/N was actually thankful she stayed. Getting to see Negan interact with his niece was nice because it showed a side to him that she didn’t even know existed before.

“You and Negan make a good looking couple. I think my Aunt Lucille would have liked you,” Sam assured Y/N with a happy sound as Negan set Sam’s plate of food before her. “You lucked out with Negan. He’s a good cook.”

“She lucked out with Negan?” Negan reiterated her words with a chuckle. The look Sam gave him made it seem like she didn’t think it was a big deal. That just wasn’t something Negan was used to hearing Sam say. Stepping back toward the counters, Negan grabbed the plate of food he made for Y/N and moved to the island to carefully reach out to hand it to her. “Where the hell did you hear something like that?”

“I heard mom saying it the other day about something. I figure it means something good, right?” Sam inquired, pushing her blonde hair back into a ponytail again before she started to eat dinner.

“No, you used it perfectly right in a sentence, I just don’t expect to hear that from a twelve year old,” Negan grunted with a half laugh, his face scrunching up when he repeated the saying once more. “But apparently you lucked out with me Y/N. I can in fact cook and I cook well.”

“He does a lot of things well. My Uncle Negan isn’t like most people and I mean that in a good way. He can fix cars, he can fix things around the house, he’s really funny…” Sam continued to ramble on; her eyes hooked on Y/N as Negan took a seat next to Sam and started laughing. “What?”

“You do realize she is already dating me, right?” Negan pointed out making Y/N smirk as she took the first bite of the food that Negan had put together for them. Sam was right; he was exceedingly good at cooking. Maybe she would have to spend more time with Negan because she could just tell by this meal that he prepared that he already made food better than her family.

“I just think she would like to know that the guy she is dating has all those qualities. Sure, he isn’t great at painting, but he’s awesome with kids,” Sam continued on making Negan throw his hand up in the air to cover his eyes and laugh as if he was embarrassed. “That’s marriage material right?”

“Marriage material?” Y/N repeated Sam’s words and Negan dragged his hand down his face letting out an uncomfortable laugh. “I think it’s a little early in the relationship to be talking about marriage, but I do agree with you he is a special guy.”

“It’s never too early to talk about marriage, is it?” Sam reasoned making both Negan and Y/N laugh with her over dramatic tone. “I mean look at my parents. They knew each other three months and then they got married because they knew they were the right ones for each other.”

“Not everyone is like your parents though. What they had is special,” Negan claimed, pushing at the food on his plate with his fork. “Sometimes what took your parents three months to do takes people ten years to do. Sometimes you just have to be really sure that’s what you want.”

“But you and Lucille got married at nineteen,” Sam bickered with Negan and Negan cleared his throat uneasily when Sam dropped that little bit of information.

“Nineteen?” Y/N stammered and Negan looked to Y/N with a tilt of his head. The way his eyebrows furrowed made it seem like once more she needed to tread carefully with how she responded to that information. When they had talks about Negan being a ladies man in the past, she really didn’t expect him to be the kind of guy that was married at nineteen. That meant if she took after him, she would have been married for a few years now. “You were married at nineteen?”

“I was,” Negan nodded, glancing down at his wedding ring that he had on his hand. He spun it on his finger before shifting uncomfortably in his chair. The way his neck tensed drew attentions to the large vein in his neck and Y/N could sense that Negan wasn’t exactly thrilled that Sam had dropped that bit of information. “Things kind of came fast for me when I was young. I did really well at baseball. I looked like I had a great career ahead of me. Then I got hurt when I was nineteen and special events led to me being married.”

“She didn’t know that bit?” Sam winced when she realized that she dropped new information on Y/N about Negan’s past. “I’m sorry.”

 “No, it’s okay. She should know things. You were right about the whole honesty thing Sam,” Negan stammered taking a bite of his dinner. “Lucille was pregnant when we got married.”

Y/N choked when Negan admitted that and Negan’s eyes narrowed while he stared out at her. Negan took a big bite of his food and craned his neck a bit, clearly uncomfortable, “Lucille had a miscarriage and after that was never able to have kids again. But I don’t regret marrying her at that age. Like Sam said, when you know you love someone…you know.”

“I am so sorry,” Y/N apologized feeling suddenly guilty that she had made things so stressful earlier about Negan having a child. Sam reached out to place her hand over Negan’s and she gave it a firm squeeze. “Negan…”

“We’re good,” Negan wrapped his fingers around Sam’s fingers and gave them a tiny squeeze in return. “We always talked about adopting, but that never really…went through.”

“What was nice though is that with Uncle Negan and Aunt Lucille it was like I had two sets of parents growing up,” Sam informed Y/N with a bright smile reaching out to wrap her arm around Negan’s shoulders and he grinned. “I was always with Aunt Lucille and Uncle Negan. Almost as much as I was with my moms. I very much liked it.”

“Were you…” Y/N paused, her eyebrows furrowing when she thought about her question she was about to ask. Curiosity was getting the best of Y/N, especially knowing that Sam had two mothers. In some cases, this question could be considered rude, but Negan and Sam seemed to be quite open to their lives.  “Were you adopted Sam?”

“No, it’s kind of complicated. My parents explained it to me, but my biological mother is my Aunt Lucille’s sister,” Sam waved her hand around in the air, shrugging her shoulders when she continued to eat her food. “I don’t know who my dad was. They had a donor or something. I never understood it. It kind of creeped me out when they tried to explain it.”

“Your mother would kill me if she knew we were talking about this,” Negan stammered with a groan and Sam giggled. “Lucille’s sister is Elaina and Sam’s other mom is Jane. Elaina is very open about things where as Jane…”

“Let’s just say they are complete opposites. One thinks I should know how babies are really made and the other got very angry when I found out how they were made,” Sam made a disgusted face and Negan’s nose wrinkled when he listed to his niece ramble. “My mothers are so different it’s weird.”

“Elaina likes me and Jane…not my biggest fan,” Negan took another mouthful of food and lifted his eyes to see Y/N listening carefully to them.

“She loves you. She just doesn’t get your humor. She’s kind of…lame. But I love her!” Sam explained while poking at her food.

“It sounds like you guys have a really good family there,” Y/N pointed out as she continued to eat her food and Sam’s eyes were still hooked on hers. It was nice hearing the two of them go back and forth with one another. There was no doubt by the way they could talk with each other that Negan and Sam were close.

“I think you would make a perfect addition to it,” Sam gave a cheesy smile and Negan dropped his fork to the plate making Sam giggle again.

“You might as well be proposing for me at this point. Do you want to go to the store with me and pick out a ring?” Negan reached out to tickle at Sam’s sides and strangely enough, Y/N really liked this.

“At least it would be a pretty ring. I have taste,” Sam firmly stated between her laughter while she continued to try and fight off Negan from his tickling.

Domestic life was not something that Y/N had ever seen herself enjoying or wanting. More than anything she thought wanted a good job and she wanted to be fiercely independent because of how her parents had been toward her. Yet Y/N enjoyed the time she was spending with Negan and Sam. Their bickering was incredibly cute and charming. With her family she never really got to see the good side of having a family, so this perspective of what a family should be was really eye opening for Y/N.

When Negan stopped tickling Sam, he looked up at Y/N with slightly rose colored cheeks. “I’m sorry; I have a bit of a pushy one here Y/N.”

“You’re fine. I think Sam is great,” Y/N gave Sam a wink and Sam tickled Negan back for revenge when his attention was fully on Y/N. Watching them play with each other made her happy. Their laughter was contagious and even though Negan had opened up about things that were kind of dark, Sam was there to balance it out and make it better for him. Which was a good thing and Y/N was glad to have that moment.

After dinner, Y/N was helping Negan clean up the dishes. Sam was eager to get back to painting in the other room and left them to clean up. Negan insisted that he had no problem cleaning everything up, but Y/N didn’t want to leave it all on him, especially since he had been kind enough to make them such a nice meal. There was a silence between them as she looked over at him with a sad expression. After watching him with Sam, she started to think about how angry she had been at him over the last few days. It made her regret the way she was acting and spending this time with Negan made her rethink the way she was about things previously.

“I’m sorry I’ve given you so much shit. You have been through so much and I don’t think I realized that,” Y/N explained how she was feeling and Negan’s gaze lifted from the plates that he was cleaning up in the soapy water.

“Please don’t apologize,” Negan looked to her with a frown and he shrugged. “You had no idea what I’ve been through. How were you supposed to? Plus, I could have been more open with you. There are a lot of things I think…might be hard for me to tell people. Still. What you know now is only scratching the surface. Not sure anyone would want to be around me if they knew everything.”

“I highly doubt that,” she reached out to squeeze over his shoulder and there was a sense of sadness in his expression.  

“I really fucked this up didn’t I?” Negan snorted as he looked away from her with an uncomfortable shift of his body. “This is exceedingly strange and way too much when you were just looking for a sugar daddy, isn’t it?”

“Nah, you’re still my sugar daddy, but I think we’re a little bit more complicated than that now,” she teased, bumping him softly with her hip. They could have talked more about that, but considering Sam was in the other room, she didn’t think now was really the time. “Sam is really amazing you know.”

“I told you that you would like her. She’s pushy, but…” Negan went to continue and Y/N reached for Negan’s shirt to pull him to her so they could kiss. A surprised sound fell from Negan’s throat as she kissed him over and over again. Licking his lips when she pulled away, Negan let out a long exhale and smiled. “Well that was nice.”

“Sexy sugar daddy Negan is nice, but this side of you,” she took a moment to eye him over and she palmed in over the center of his chest, “This makes you so much sexier.”

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. His eyes were hooked on hers when she started to back step away from the sink.

“Finish up drying and I’ll see you in there,” Y/N whispered moving toward the hallway to go back to helping Sam with the painting. Leaving Negan in the kitchen, she just wanted him to know that she liked what she had seen of him. Having him be a mystery was appealing, but seeing how amazing he was in general was even better.

After they finished painting late into the night, Y/N had helped Negan and Sam build a ‘fort’ in Negan’s living room out of blankets, sheets and cushions from the couch and chairs. It reminded her so much of being young. She missed the innocence and fun that came with being Sam’s age.

When the fort was done they had pulled some sleeping bags and blankets into it. All three of them easily fit in underneath it and they were all lying together. Negan was in the middle and the area was lit by a flashlight that Sam was holding onto. Negan and Sam were making shadow puppets giggling with each other whenever Negan would do something ridiculous. When they calmed down and seemed to be winding down, Sam let out a heavy sigh and looked over to them, “Today was fun. I’m excited for whatever we’re going to do tomorrow. You’re staying tomorrow, right Y/N?”

“Of course I am,” Y/N assured Sam as Sam cuddled into Negan for a while. Feeling her phone buzzing in her pocket, Y/N cleared her throat and pulled out her phone to see she had a lot of missed calls from her parents. She hadn’t been in contact with them since she had been with Negan so they were likely wondering where she was.

“You should let them know that you are okay,” Negan whispered, looking down at his chest to see that Sam had fallen asleep on the center of his chest. “Parents just like to know you’re okay. No matter how fucking awful of a parent they may be.”

“You’re right,” she agreed sending a text to her mother that she was just staying with a friend for a few days. Negan gave her a wink when she turned off her phone and got comfortable beside him.

Negan turned the flashlight off while Sam was and they had all fallen asleep for a while. In the middle of the night, a gasp fell from Y/N’s throat when she felt a weight shifting over her. Opening her eyes, she saw Negan crawling in over her, bracing himself on his elbows. Negan placed his finger in over his mouth to keep her silent as he nodded over toward a sleeping Sam.

“You are so fucking perfect,” Negan slurred, his eyes hooded while he looked her over. Lowering in, he pressed a teasing, faint kiss over her lips before starting to pepper kisses over her lips. Each kiss would get just a bit harder and a bit more intense. Soon her arms were hooked around Negan’s shoulders while they were essentially making out. A moan fell from Negan’s throat when he felt Y/N sucking at his tongue and he lazily pulled his mouth away from hers. “I think I need to go back to bed. We have to keep this PG-thirteen.”

“God,” she laughed against his mouth as he gave her a final kiss goodnight before rolling back to his spot. Taking advantage of the moment, she slid in beside him and urged him to wrap his arm around her. Cuddling up to Negan felt amazing and made her feel safe. Even if they were sleeping on the floor, this was the most comfortable she had been sleeping at night being with Negan the last two days.

By the time she woke up in the morning it was because she heard the sound of pans clanking together and she lifted up to see that she was alone in the fort that they had built the night before. Crawling out carefully making sure she didn’t destroy anything, she could hear Negan and Sam talking together in the kitchen. Their giggles made her smile when she reached the entrance of the kitchen to see them together cooking breakfast.

“Good morning,” she finally spoke up and both of them looked over their shoulders at her. “Something smells good.”

“Morning,” Negan winked and then went back to cooking. Sam waved excitedly while her other hand clung to the spatula she had. “We didn’t want to wake you until breakfast was done because you seemed really comfortable.”

“I guess I needed the sleep,” she admitted, taking a look at what time it was, “How far away is breakfast? I should probably go grab some clothes and a quick shower so you both can stand to be around me.”

“You’ve got time,” Negan gave her a nod, but Sam gave her a weird expression. “She lives across the street.”

“Oh!” Sam nodded, looking toward what they were cooking. “We just started so you should be fine.”

“Bring your bathing suit, this one wants to go swimming after breakfast,” Negan informed her, looking over his shoulder again at Y/N with a smirk.

“And then tonight we’re going to a fair that’s happening in town. I heard about it and wanted my moms to take me, but they never had the time so Negan is going to take us,” Sam informed her with a happy smile, “So that should be really fun, but you need to be comfortable so we can walk around.”

“Got it. Good walking shoes and a bathing suit,” Y/N snapped her fingers, nodding her head. She wondered if she should have been giving Negan and Sam some alone time together, but they both seemed to want her around.

Heading back to her house, she knew that her parents wouldn’t be there so she quickly snuck in and grabbed what she needed. She got in a quick shower before rushing back to Negan’s to have breakfast with them. When they got into the pool, Negan had set up a net for them to play volleyball and Sam had requested Y/N to be on her team.

“I don’t think this is really fair, the whole two on one thing,” Negan prepared to serve the ball while they were in the pool together. His big smile expanded over his handsome features, enhancing his dimples when he did it. There was definitely a happiness to Negan when Sam had been with them that she hadn’t seen before. He just lit up around her and Y/N liked to see it.

“It’s not like we’re taking much away from you Negan, you suck for the most part so it wouldn’t have helped who was on your team,” Sam teased Negan and stuck her tongue out making Negan snort before serving the ball. Sam managed to bump it back over the net and Negan easily hit it back to them, but Y/N was able to spike it back to Negan. He attempted to jump to catch it, but ended up missing it letting out a frustrated sound. “We’re kicking your ass.”

“Butt,” Negan chuckled holding his finger out to point out at Sam, “If your mom hears you saying that, she’s going to kick my ass.”

“I know, I know,” Sam rolled her eyes and held her hand up to motion him to calm down. “I know to only talk like that around you.”

“I think we should play something else,” Negan swam under the net and moved in closer to them. “I’m going to continue to get my ass kicked and I feel like we should play a game where I actually stand a shot.”

“Watch your mouth,” Y/N muttered, playfully elbowing Negan hearing him chuckle when she said that after he corrected Sam on the word ass. “What do you have in mind?”

“How about Marco Polo?” Negan suggested and he saw Sam’s face scrunch up before shrugging her shoulders. “You can be it first since you were the MVP of the last round.”

“Shouldn’t the loser be the first person to be it?” Sam pointed out and Negan threw his hands up in the air while shaking his head.

“I think I should be given a break after how badly I was losing,” Negan smirked and nodded toward the steps. “You know the rules. Go over there, close your eyes.”

“I know the rules of Marco Polo,” Sam grumbled, swimming over to the steps of the pool and she turned away from them. Sam started to count out loud and Negan reached for Y/N’s hand to pull her with him toward the corner of the opposite end of the pool.

Pulling her in front of him, Negan kept his arms loosely wrapped around her waist and nuzzled his nose against the back of her neck, “When she starts, you stay to the edge of the pool and go that way. I’ll go this way and go to the stairs. Then follow my lead.”

“Okay,” she snickered with Negan whispering against her flesh. The sensation of him pressing a tender kiss against the back of her neck made her eyes close for a moment before hearing Sam announce she was going to start looking for them.

When Sam started swimming out, Negan urged Y/N to move like he had said and Sam’s voice filled the air, “Marco.”

“Polo,” both of them muttered in return and because they were separated, Sam seemed to stand still for a moment to try to determine where to go. When Sam repeated Marco, they both responded once they reached the stairs. Negan urged Y/N to carefully move out of the pool and she gave him a look that made him shrug his shoulders.

“Move around the pool and keep responding,” Negan ordered in a quiet tone as they both moved around the edge of the pool. For a while it worked, but eventually Sam picked up on what they had done. Sam pulled herself out of the pool and chased after Negan making him laugh when she managed to push him into the pool. “Hey, why did I get shoved? Y/N did it too.”

“Because I know it was your idea, you jerk,” Sam laughed, jumping back in the water to splash Negan when she returned to the water.

Sitting on the edge of the pool, Y/N watched Negan and Sam play wrestle together before Negan looked to Y/N with big eyes. When Sam went to swim, Negan moved to the edge and slid his hand up Y/N’s leg, “What are you thinking?”

“How much I like you,” Y/N answered, reaching out to trace over the side of Negan’s face and he leaned into her touch. His eyes closed when her fingers pushed into his wet, dark hair. “I’ve really liked these last few days.”

“Me too,” Negan declared, his eyes opening and leaned in to press a kiss over the inside of her knee. Looking over his shoulder, Negan checked on Sam before nodding toward his phone. “Could you let me know the time?”

Getting up from the side of the pool, Y/N reached for Negan’s phone to see what time it was, “It’s almost one.”

“Hey Sam,” Negan looked back over his shoulder and brushed his fingers through his wet hair. “We should get some lunch in and then rest for a bit before going to the fair. Binge something for a few to get some relax time in.”

Sam didn’t take much convincing and it was nice getting to relax with the two of them for a while to watch things until they finally went to the fair together. It had been a very long time since Y/N had ever been to a fair. So this was exceedingly new to her.

Sam was eager to play multiple games at the fair and in typical Negan fashion he would let her do whatever she wanted. Y/N just stood beside Negan, holding his hand while they watched Sam having fun.

“You know,” Sam pointed toward one of the games and drew Negan’s attention to one of the giant bears. It was a game where it was a basketball shooting game and Negan slowly pulled his hand from Y/N’s.

“You want the bear?” Negan confirmed and Sam shook her head. “You don’t?”

“I think you should get it for her,” Sam pointed at Y/N making her laugh when she did. “That’s what good boyfriends do, right?”

“Do you want the bear?” Negan looked over his shoulder at Y/N, but before she could answer Sam was tugging at Negan motioning him to lower down closer to her.

“You’re not supposed to ask if she wants it, you are just supposed to win it for her and then give it to her. That way you look impressive,” Sam pat Negan on the shoulder and Negan let out an amused sound before grinning.

Doing what Sam suggested, Negan went and did whatever the rules were to get the bear was and surprisingly enough, he got it. Negan was good at basketball which was something that Y/N didn’t expect because she thought Negan was originally training to be a baseball player.  Negan moved across the way and held the bear out to Y/N.

“My dear, this is for you,” Negan held out the bear and Y/N accepted the bear before Negan looked down at Sam. “Was that good?”

“I think you should have kissed her,” Sam pointed out and Negan snorted before stepping forward to look over Y/N. Leaning forward Negan quickly pecked Y/N, his eyes hooked on hers when he slowly pulled away. “Better, you’ll get the hang of this dating thing soon.”

“Well, I’m glad I have the love guru here to tell me how to do things,” Negan snorted, reaching out to wrap his arm around Y/N’s shoulders to pull her in closer to him. Sam wanted to go on a ride and Negan urged Y/N to stay with him while Sam went. While they stood at the edge watching, Negan moved behind Y/N to wrap his arms tightly around her waist. He nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck and pressed a kiss against her flesh. “I’m sorry if that has been uncomfortable at all for you. I know we’re not technically dating, but with Sam…”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” she interrupted him and reached down to slide her hands in over his and found herself leaning further back into his chest. Turning slowly in his arms, she reached out to trace her fingers in over the side of his face and Negan smirked. “I’m actually quite the opposite. I’ve enjoyed this probably more than I should of.”

“Good. You’re a very special girl,” Negan muttered, his eyelids heavy as he stared deeply into her eyes. His thumb slid in over her bottom lip and traced over it in a slow fashion. Leaning down, he captured her lips in a kiss. The loud sounds of the fair seemed to drown out as Negan took his time kissing her. Clutching to him tightly, everything felt perfect in the moment. The tender caress of his fingertips, to the motions of his lips over hers getting stronger with each passing second that their kiss continued. Brushing her fingers through his hair with her right hand while her left arm hooked securely around his shoulders, she found herself falling into his chest. They had progressed so much in the last few days. At first Negan was afraid to kiss her, but now he kissing her quite often. Kissing her in ways that absolutely took her breath away. The sound of the ride moving was heard and Negan pulled his mouth from hers to lift his head up to watch Sam. “I’m glad I got to see the two of you interacting. I was worried at first that you wouldn’t be okay with being around kids because Sam is a big part of my life.”

“She’s a pretty incredible girl,” Y/N kissed Negan one final time before turning in his arms to watch Sam having what seemed to be the time of her life on the ride. “It’s very nice that Elaina and Jane still let you spend so much time with her. I’m glad they do. The two of you have a special bond and I love it.”

“Me too,” Negan hummed against the side of her neck before cuddling his chin in against her shoulder. “After Lucille died, that little girl is the only thing that kept me hanging on.”

Y/N didn’t say anything; she just looked down to see the golden ring that was still around Negan’s finger. Biting at her bottom lip, she knew that Negan still seemed to be hooked pretty heavily on his wife. Negan was a beautiful mess. A perfect, beautiful…mess. Yet she liked him more because of it.

Being held in Negan’s arms felt amazing. In the moment, she didn’t feel like they had a compromise that they would help each other out. Instead of being the girl he was paying to be around him, she actually did feel like she was his girlfriend. Surprisingly, she liked it. Feeling that way made her feel special. Like she was important to someone for the first time in her life. Originally, she didn’t plan on getting so attached to Negan, but it was hard not falling fast for him.

When Sam got back they went on multiple rides together this time. It was nice getting to spend time with people that actually felt like a family. With her own family, Y/N felt like they were broken. Like they had shattered a long time ago in terms of relationships, but with Negan and Sam the missing puzzle in her life felt like all the pieces were together.

“Are you having fun?” Sam looked up at Y/N with big eyes while they waited for Negan who was getting cotton candy for them. Immediately, Y/N nodded. She was truly having a good time. “You know he really likes you, right? I can see it in the way he looks at you. It’s not just me trying to get him together with someone because I want him happy. I just can see he really cares about you. I haven’t seen him look like this since he lost my aunt. Usually he’s just sad.”

“I really like him too,” Y/N claimed knowing that Sam loved her uncle and wanted to make sure that he was just happy.

“What are we talking about?” Negan came back, handing out the cotton candy to them. Reaching out, Negan stole some of Y/N’s and plopped it into his mouth. A wide, crooked grin pressed in over his handsome features after he finished with it.

“You,” Y/N answered truthfully and Negan snorted.

“All good things, I hope,” Negan winked and Sam looked up at Y/N with big eyes.

For the rest of the night, time seemed to pass exceedingly fast because they were enjoying themselves so much. By the end of the night, Y/N was sitting beside Negan on the Ferris wheel and Sam insisted being alone to herself so the two of them could be together.

“You are fucking beautiful, you know that?” Negan slurred, his eyes hooked on her as she shifted in the seat when the wheel came to a stop. They were at the top giving them a view of the whole fair that surrounded them down below from the night sky. “I’m glad we could do this the last few days.”

“Me too,” she whispered letting out a surprised breath when Negan moved in to press a kiss over her cheek. His kisses pressed down over her jawline before she turned in to meet him in another kiss. It was a simple, sweet kiss, but she liked kissing him. “This has all been so different compared to what I thought would be going on between us.”

“Would you even want to date a guy like me?” Negan’s right eyebrow arched up and he was speaking quiet enough so Sam wouldn’t be able to hear him. “With all the baggage I’m carrying.”

“Is that even something I should be considering with the set-up we have going on?” Y/N bit down on her bottom lip knowing that she had gotten her hopes up before with them.

“That doesn’t really answer the question. I asked if you would want to date a guy like me,” Negan reminded her, his eyebrows arched up when he spoke. “I’m not saying you have to, I’m just interested in knowing if you would ever be interested. I’m older. I’ve got baggage. I’m a little broken.”

“I think you’re perfect Negan,” she blurt out and knew that she should have really thought it out before she said it, but when she did say it the smile that expanded over his features was gorgeous. There was a bit of a cockiness in the way he reacted, but he liked hearing her say that. “I like you. There’s a lot to like. Even if you are broken.”

“Is that because you find me attractive?” Negan slid in closer to her when the ride started moving again and she could feel the warmth of his breath in her face.

“If I said your looks didn’t play a part in how I felt, I would be a fucking liar,” she admitted hearing Negan snort when his mouth was exceedingly close to hers. “You’re very gorgeous, but spending time with you like this…you’re more than just looks.”

“Good answer,” Negan slurred, claiming her lips in another kiss that drew her to grasp at his hair. They seemed to continue to kiss and the rest of the world just faded away for her. Kissing Negan was something that she enjoyed greatly. Negan knew what he was doing. In the past she really hadn’t enjoyed sharing moments like these, but everyone she had kissed in the past had never been quite as good as Negan was. If you would have told her when this thing first started that she would be this attached to Negan, she would have never believed you. Yes, she was exceedingly turned on by him the first moment she had seen him, but she just wanted to be by him and with him. When the Ferris wheel had stopped, they broke apart noticing that it was time to get off. Negan could see that she blushed over when the people working the ride waited patiently for them to stop and it made him snicker. “Come on baby girl.”

Following him off the ride they waited for Sam and when she approached them, her bright green eyes were hooked on Negan’s, “Were the two of you just making out and holding up the ride?”

“No,” Negan lied and chuckled to himself, reaching his free hand out to Sam to grab hers while his other hand held onto Y/N’s. “I think we’re winding down here kiddo. Your mom is going to come and pick you up in the morning. If you’re absolutely exhausted she is going to kill me.”

“A few more games, then we can go. Okay?” Sam reasoned and Negan nodded. They ended up staying longer than he probably planned. Negan had a hard time saying no to Sam, but within reason.

When they finally did get back to Negan’s home, all three of them kind of crashed on Negan’s bed together on top of the blankets after talking about their day. When morning finally came the girls had woken up first and decided to let Negan sleep. They had agreed to go clean up the fort for Negan and it was nice to actually spend some time alone with Sam.

“I think my uncle made a good choice with you,” Sam alerted Y/N from where she was at the other side of the couch putting one of the cushions back where it belonged. “You kind of worry about the people you care about and who they are dating. I’ve seen a lot of nice people date some nasty people, but you…you’re special.”

“As are you kiddo,” Y/N gave Sam a wink knowing that it felt good to hear that Negan’s niece thought highly of her. Part of her felt that maybe this was kind of a test to see how things would be if she was in Negan’s life as more of a permanent role. Why would Negan have her around otherwise? Either way, she liked it and the feeling it gave her. Feeling like she was part of a family was something nice. Something she never knew that she would actually like. “I hope to get to spend more time with you and Negan in the future.”

“Me too,” Sam helped finishing up, but when the sound of the doorbell ringing was heard Sam let out a tense breath. “That’s mom.”

Rushing to the door, Sam pulled it open and Y/N shifted uncomfortably when Sam’s mother walked into the room. Sam pushed into her mother’s lower back and pushed her toward Y/N. The bright green eyes and the physical similarities to the photo Negan had on his fireplace mantle of him and the woman together led her to believe this was Lucille’s sister.

“Mom, this is Y/N and she’s Negan girlfriend,” Sam was eager to introduce the two of them and Elaina laughed when her daughter was eager for them to meet. “Y/N, this is my mother Elaina.”

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Y/N extended her hand to shake Elaina’s. She probably came off shy, but this was someone who was actually a big part of Negan’s life and she was the sister to Negan’s late wife. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s great to meet you too,” Elaina smiled and before they could talk any further the sound of footsteps coming around the corner was heard. Negan’s tired eyes connected with Elaina’s and he offered up a weak smile. His messy hair showed that he had just woken up making Elaina chuckle when saw him. “You’re looking very energetic this morning.”

“Tell me about it,” Negan groaned rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand before moving forward. Wrapping his arms around Elaina’s shoulders, he hugged her tightly and then looked back. “Have you met…?”

“Sam just introduced us,” Elaina nodded and shoved her hands into her pockets while she looked between them. “Did you have a good weekend baby?”

“I sure did! We had a lot of fun,” Elaina informed her mom with a bright smile.

“You should go get your bag baby, we have to meet your mother somewhere,” Elaina informed Sam with a tilt of her head toward the door.

“I’ll get it with you,” Y/N suggested leaving Negan to be with Sam’s mother for a few minutes alone. When Sam and Y/N disappeared down the hallway, Negan could sense that Elaina’s eyes were locked on him.

“What?” Negan snorted with a wrinkled nose when Elaina folded her arms out in front of her chest.

“Since when have you had a girlfriend? We talk all the time and I’ve never heard about your girlfriend. Please don’t tell me that you have a one night stand here with Sam,” Elaina whispered and Negan hushed her placing his finger in front of his lips to keep her quiet. “Negan?”

“She’s not a one night stand. We haven’t even slept together yet. She’s not my girlfriend, but she’s something,” Negan confessed, his brow line creasing when he thought about his agreement with Y/N. That wasn’t something he was about to tell Lucille’s sister though. She would definitely look down on him for it. “I just got sick of being lonely and we’re…helping each other. You know how hard it is for me to get close to people after Lucille.”

“Oh, she’s something? Well I think she’s cute. She seems sweet and shy, kid of not your type,” Elaina responded with a wrinkle of her nose and Negan chuckled.

“You just haven’t heard her when she gets excited. I swear the first time I heard her talk I thought I was listening to Lucille,” Negan recalled how he had heard her having an argument with her father the first time he had seen her. The side eye glance that Elaina gave him made him toss his hands up in the air. “Yes, she reminds me of Lucille, but trust me she’s so…different as well.”

“Try giving this one a chance, okay? If you’re willing to have her around Sam, that’s…big,” Elaina pointed out and Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up. He bit down firmly on his bottom lip and let out a long sigh. “I think Lucille would decide that maybe it was time for you to let go and finally find some happiness.”

“I think Lucille would rather me be pining over her for the rest of my life. She liked being the center of my world,” Negan corrected Elaina and he heard her laugh when he said that. “You know I’m right. I think Lucille fully expected me to be broken for the rest of my life after losing her.”

“I also know that while my sister was very spicy, I know she loved you and would want you to be happy,” Elaina watched Sam return with her bag with Y/N by her side. Right before she left, Sam gave Y/N a big hug and Elaina gave Negan an impressed look by how much Sam seemed to like Y/N. “Well it was a pleasure to meet you Y/N. I hope I see you again.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” Y/N grinned watching Negan kneel down and Sam ran to Negan’s arms for him to pick her up in his arms. He grunted when he spun Sam and peppered kisses over the side of her face.

“I love you kiddo,” Negan pressed a final kiss over Sam’s face hearing her laugh when he did it. “Call me later, okay?”

“I promise,” Sam gave Negan a final big hug before he carefully set her down and they fist bumped. It made Y/N impressed with how close the two of them actually were. When Sam left, Negan actually seemed a little sad as he watched them walk to the car from the door.

“You okay?” Y/N moved in behind Negan to press her hand in over his shoulder to give it a firm squeeze to be supportive and Negan nodded slowly. “That’s an incredible little girl. Thank you for letting me be around.”

“And thank you for being so good this weekend with her,” Negan sighed reaching for his back pocket to pull out his wallet. Y/N watched him open it to pull out a wad of cash after counting it. Negan held it out making her tilt her head to the side. Her throat locked up when she looked down at the money. “I promised you two-fifty for every day you spent with me. So…this is yours.”

“Oh, right,” Y/N felt absolutely terrible even hearing him say that. Even though she knew this was their ‘compromise’, after spending all weekend with him and Sam, she kind of forgot about it. Undoubtedly, her face had flushed over. Pocketing the money that Negan gave her, she had a hard time looking him in the eye after he gave her the money. While she knew this was the deal they came up with, part of her would have rather the lie they gave Sam be the truth. Instead of being paid to spend time with him, she may have enjoyed the idea of them dating instead of what they actually had going on better.

Negan put his wallet back in his back pocket and he looked at the time, “I have work in a few hours, but if you want we can have breakfast? I can cook something really nice for you. What do you say?”

“I should probably get out of your hair,” she muttered and she saw the expression he gave her was one she couldn’t quite read. His eyebrows bounced up and his jaw locked up before he followed her toward the door when she went to leave. “I had a nice time Negan.”

“Me too,” Negan gave her a wink and he leaned down to give her a kiss, but she turned her head away and he let out a confused sound. Negan’s hazel eyes surveyed her over when she opened the door and he seemed to stand there not sure what to do now that she had turned him away. “Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” she stopped on his porch seeing the way he clutched to the doorknob.

“Did I do something wrong?” Negan wondered, clearly worried that he had done something. Truthfully, he had done nothing wrong, he was just keeping up his end of the deal they had going on. It just felt so dirty when it finally did happen and she didn’t like the way it made her feel. Shaking her head, she said nothing. What was there to say at this point? Negan appeared to be disappointed and very confused by everything, but sighed when she started to leave. “I guess I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Right,” she waved before walking out the door and heading back to her home.

She went immediately to her room and set the money he gave her on the bed. It was a significant amount of money to spend time with someone she actually found herself liking. Moving over toward the window, she saw Negan standing on the porch smoking and he looked flustered. Maybe she was wrong in leaving like that, but knowing that their relationship still consisted of this whole money thing just made her feel strange at the end. Especially since she felt like she cared about Negan more than she really should have.

----

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[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay Chapter 19, Traximus

Summary: The Turtles meet a dinosaur

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @ilo-artistry @unhealthyobsessions101

Content warnings: swears

Bubble, bubble, bubble went the water as it swelled and displaced. Weapons were drawn, and the katana in Leonardo’s hand felt as foreign as if someone had just given him a book in Chinese and instructed him to read it. The handle was smaller than his odachi, and the blade was shorter, and it was thinner, and its weight was lighter, almost nothing. Still, a weapon was a weapon, even if he naturally navigated toward the back of the crowded group to put a wall of muscle between him and whatever was emerging from the cesspool.

There came two curved horns as long as Leonardo’s arm and as thick as Leo’s at the base, curved forward and angled close together. The gap between then formed an almost triangle shape. First came the horns, and then came an apricot head that rivaled the size of a small car, revealing a third smaller horn on the tip of a muzzle just before heavy, meaty flesh parted to a hard, bony beak. The head shook from size to side, a loud whoosh resulting as the broad frill caught the air. Further still the triceraton revealed himself.

His shoulders were as wide as the frill on his head, and he had a torso that could be mistaken for a brick wall. He was clothed in a red and orange regalia that could have once been a beautiful suit but was now stained with waste and ruin, heavy from the submergence. His nostrils flared to blow away the water that still cascaded along his muscular form, his breaths coming in heavy and labored grunts. Donnie couldn’t help but take notice of many wires hanging loosely around the triceratons shoulders, several of them severed or otherwise damaged; what use could they have once served? The options were limitless!

The triceraton didn't charge, but the clan held their ground. Eyes of an impossibly bright emerald sought something among the group; what that something was was anyone’s guess, but it must have been important. Apparently it was Donnie that held what the alien sought, because when his eyes found the box turtle they stopped searching. His head bowed and the turtles once more braced themselves for a charge. The triceraton lifted his arms up to his horns, arching his fingers downward so they formed an inverted triangle; joined with the angling of his horns, a diamond shape was revealed.

“Awaiting… orders… general Mozar.” He sounded as if he had swallowed a cheese grater.

Raph’s confusion disturbed the unyielding stance. “Who?”

All eyes gleaned over at Donnie. The box turtle paled at all the attention suddenly on him, his throat drying and a visible drop of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Dudes this is so weird…” Mikey breathed.

“Woah!” Despite the many shouts of discouragement and several attempts to stop Michelangelo, the box turtle made his way to the front of the group to oggle the still giant. “How can we understand you?! Is there some super cool alien translation device?!”

“Actually Michael, I think he’s just speaking english.” Donatello commented absently.

“Oh.” Michelangelo deflated, “That’s less fun.”

The giant seemed to tolerate Michelangelo’s presence surprisingly well; that is to say, he didn't immediately try to beat the young turtle into a puddle.

“Should we be concerned that he’s not, you know… pummeling us right now?” Raphael asked, his hands still fixed firmly on his tonfa.

“Don’t let your guard down.” Leo whispered to the group, “He still might.”

“I don’t think he will.” Leonardo said, and his eyes were locked on the dinosaur as if seeing something no one else could.

“Excuse me?” With a hand perched on his hip, Leo addressed Leonardo’s words with scrutiny.

“Donnie.” Leonardo said to the box turtle, “Raise your hand…”

Donnie, though confused, raised his hand. The triceraton lowered his strange salute and raised his hand; Donnie leaned curiously to the side, and the dinosaur leaned to the side. Donnie leaned to the other side, and the dinosaur followed, like a baby mimicking its mother.

“Ooookay, things just got a whole lot weirder.” Mikey whistled.

“Guys, you remember that one really red triceraton?” Donnie asked quickly without removing his eyes from the ten foot giant before him. “The one with the lopsided horns?”

“Yeah, the leader.” Leo said just as quick as Donnie, just as urgent.

Donnie didn't answer verbally, but made a point of motioning to the goggles perched on his head, the lopsided lenses glistening.

“Aaaaand sidebar!” Despite being the smallest of all eight gathered, Leonardo was able to wrap his arms around the other mutants and whisk them to the side while Traximus returned to his unsteady salute. “Okay bros; how we feeling ‘bout this?”

“That dino dude’s acting weird…” Mikey said, and made a point of enunciating the last word,

“Yeah, like Mikey weird.” Raph whistled.

“Hey.” Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“And his gears all busted up.” Donnie reported, “He doesn’t have his mask on anymore for one.”

“And why is he playing some twisted version of Simon Says with Donnie?” Raph’s words came with a sharp scoff.

“Maybe he’s friendly?” Michelangelo offered up.

“Unlikely.” Donatello disagreed.

“Well the robot was nice.” Michelangelo pointed out.

“That is a fair point.” Leonardo nodded and agreed.

“And what’s that meant to be, some kinda salute?” Raph lifted his head from the group to look back at the giant. “An’ why does he think Don’s this ‘Mozar’ or whatever?”

Donatello cleared his throat to call everyone’s attention. “I would like to offer a theory if I may?”

“Yeah, shoot.” Raphael said.

“You mentioned something about a mask.” Donatello said, holding one hand over his mouth and nose to resemble a mask, “Like, a cloth mask or an oxygen mask?”

“Uh, oxygen.” Donnie nodded his confirmation.

“Right.” Donatello nodded, and pointed over at the dinosaur. “I see no oxygen tank. If he had one to begin with, it’s gone now, and yet he’s still up and walking.”

“I… don’t remember any oxygen tank.” Leo shook his head.

“That’s because it probably wasn’t an oxygen mask. Not if all five of your dinosaurs were wearing ‘em in a place where there was quite clearly oxygen. That, my dear friends, is a pattern, not a coincidence. If they all had it, chances are it’s some sort of filter, like they’re meant to be breathing something that’s not our air. And if someone from our planet breathes in something that isn’t oxygen…”

“It kills them?” Leo wasn’t following.

“Yes, and no. How about you?” Donatello pointed at Donnie.

“It can cause… delirium, confusion… hallucinations…” Donnie was following perfectly.

“Who’s to say the effects aren’t the same for someone like him?”

“You’re saying he’s deprived of some type of breathing apparatus?” Donnie’s eyes lit up like the skies on the Fourth of July, “It makes sense!”

“And it would explain the confusion.” Leonardo said.

Leo, wanting desperately to get on to a more important subject, urged, “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“Yes.” Donatello answered confidently, “But he also thinks dear Donald here is his beloved General Mozar, and we should keep it that way.”

“General…” The dinosaur called,. “Awaiting orders…”

“Uh. At ease?” Donnie offered.

The dinosaur stared at him for the longest time, trying to decipher why his bold and brash commander had spoken so strangely before lowering his arms to his side. Donnie cleared his throat and stepped forward away from the group, trying to make himself as big as possible which wasn’t much of a task for the tree-like turtle.

“Remind me of your name and rank again, soldier.” Donnie’s voice slowly gained more confidence and tone, and the dinosaur seemed to be excited by it.

“Major Traximus of the Ygthian fleet, serving our great and powerful Prime Leader.”

“That’s right.” It felt almost fun being in a position of power, and it quickly went to Donnie’s head. “My command for you, Major Traximus, is to help me escort these… diplomats back to their home.”

“Yes Commander Mozar…” Traximus bowed the immensity of his head. “As you command…”

Though one could expect a beast of such immense proportion to lumber at an awkward gait, it was quite the opposite as Traximus walked with such speed and determination. The turtles parted to allow him plenty of space to pass by them. He was a man— or alien— on a mission that would stop for nothing. Glances were exchanged, followed by ‘what else are we gonna do?’ shrugs and curious excitement as the turtles were quick to keep up with the charging titan.

“How’d he get through anyway?” Raph asked; he was the one now holding Splinter, cradling the rat to his chest and still working absently to dry his fur.

“He was the one chasing us back in our world.” Leo said, “Maybe he got through the rift, ended up in the sewers. Lord knows the time rift had ask of us scattered to the winds.”

“Awesome…” Mikey breathed, followed up with, “I told you he was out here!”

“Yeah…” Both Leo and Raph faltered their steps, “You did…”

They made good time getting back to the lair where Yoshi and April were sat together at the living room coffee table assembling a puzzle; it was one activity that Yoshi didn't need help with, since the pieces were so big and obvious, and the old rat took great pride in each success. April, like her turtle brothers, had grown and matured greatly. She had forgone her usual buns in favor of tight braids clinging to her scalp and cascading to just above her shoulders, and she wore a modest yellow jumpsuit and rubber rain boots, perfect for traversing the wet ick of the sewer. One thing was familiar about her, however, and it was that same green coat she had been wearing since her younger adolescent. April looked up when she heard their approach, the smile turning to her mouth hanging open and her eyes bulging.

“Holy Jurassic Park…”

Leonardo took Splinter from Raph’s arm and immediately whisked him away, leaving Raph with his empty arms still out in a cradle, pouting and desperately pawing at the air that had once been his dad. Donnie parted from the group and tried follow Leonardo to the infirmary, but the red eared slider stopped him.

“I got him; you and the guys take care of our little… guest over there.” And Leonardo motioned to Traximus, who was still and awaiting orders.

“Oh. Right.” Donnie watched Leonardo leave like a distressed puppy watching his owner go to work without him. Seeking some guidance, Donnie turned to his brother. “Leo?”

“Maybe we… get him something to eat?” Leo offered.

“What do dinosaurs eat anyway?” Raph huffed; now without anything to hold, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Nothing that still exists.” Donnie muttered bitterly, and his eyes passed over the orange dinosaur trying to make better sense of the alien presence.

“Well, he is an alien dinosaur.” Michelangelo pointed, “Maybe he eats something different.”

“If it’s alien, it still won’t be on our planet, Michael.” Donatello added.

“Oh.” Michelangelo’s expression deflated.

“But we can still try.” Leo said, arms motioning widely as he called attention to himself, “We need to make his comfortable before we can get anything out of him.”

“Are we sure he even knows anything?” Donatello asked, and he was looking absently at his nails, “Doesn’t look like there’s much happening upstairs.”

It was true that Traximus’ eyes did look remarkably empty, but Donnie wasn’t convinced he was completely gone. The dinosaur could talk, and could obey orders, even if he couldn’t recognize them as not being from his own species. And they had been there for two days now! He didn't know a damn thing about alien triceratops digestion, or how long they could go without food, but he did know a thing or two about empathy. Did this triceraton need food? Maybe. Water? Maybe. Donnie would make sure the creature didn't go without either.

“Major Traximus?”

The triceraton snorted and shook his head as he brought his focus to attention at the call of his commander.

“Would you care to… indulge in… sustenance?” Donnie tried to choose his words carefully, but it was difficult, if not impossible, with knowing next to nothing about who he was meant to be portraying.

Traximus tilted his head to one side, and then the other. “Commander Mozar…?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Donnie gulped, raising his head a little higher and keeping his expression still and serious. With eyes as beady and small as Traximus’, he wasn’t sure the alien could even see him. “You must be hungry soldiers. Follow me to the… dining room and select something to eat.”

Without another word, Donnie turned on his heels and guided the way to the kitchen. Traximus, confusion evident on all of his features, trailed behind with the gaggle of curious turtles following him. They got to the kitchen and he surpassed Donnie, intent on obeying the command and maybe just plain starving as he pulled the fridge door open— more like ripped it off its hinges— and began to dig around inside. The turtles watched in curious awe.

Now that they weren’t in immediate danger of being trampled and crushed by this titan of a creature, it was like they couldn’t stop watching him. Something not human, not yokai, not mutant— something new! You didn't have to be Donnie to see the beauty in this new creature, nor to feel a desperate urge to know more and more about them! Raphael was practically exploding with excitement. He had always wanted to be so close to a dinosaur but now it was happening? He could hardly breathe! The kitchen was barely big enough for them all, but they managed to crowd around in such a way that they all could get a good view of what was happening.

Traximus picked up the gallon of milk first, shaking it a bit and then promptly discarding it. In fact, he discarded all the liquid, tossing drinks behind him and letting them shatter and spill over the floor. Not even Michelangelo cared about the mess made of his precious ingredients— not when it was this beautifully intricate creature doing it! Once all the liquid contents were out of his way, Traximus began a long pattern of selecting food, taking a bite, deciding he didn't like it, and tossing it carelessly. This process continued on until the fridge was almost barren and Michelangelo was finally regretting not intervening sooner. One of the final things left in the fridge, chili peppers, were the next thing Traximus grabbed.

“Wait— maybe you shouldn’t—” Raphael tried a little too late, as Traximus was already shoving a handful into his mouth, stems and seeds and all.

Everyone cringed, even Raph— who had taken on a hot pepper challenge many times again Leo and always somehow lost (he lost because Leo had switched out all of his own peppers for sweet peppers, but Leo would never admit that). They waited for the burn, for the scream, for the desperate scramble to find coolness. Instead, Traximus chomped happily and his mouth began to drool in response to the burning stimuli, his lips curling up as his tongue poked out to lap up all the drool that tried to escape. He dumped the rest of the basket into his mouth and dove back into the fridge in pursuit of more burning delights.

“We have a winner.” Raph said with a satisfied smirk.

Michelangelo’s eyes were firmly fixed on the mess at their feet. “And we have no dinner…”