#when both my muses decide to keep an eye on leo...
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scarrfaze · 1 year ago
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"Well, I gotta say, it's nice to see a familiar face, finally."
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It'd be an understatement to say Steven's nerves were frayed by the morning's events. Waking up in a strange new place, with no clue how he'd gotten there... it reminded him far too much of back then. He'd been so sure such surprises were long behind him. Really, he would have jumped at the chance to see anyone he even vaguely knew, if only to keep him grounded. Leo was as good a choice as any.
"You alright, young man?" He had no way of knowing Leo had been here so much longer than him already.
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pucksandpower · 6 months ago
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Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc
Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader
Summary: congrats … it’s a boy!
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You wake up to the sound of the apartment door closing, followed by Charles’ familiar footsteps down the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the curtains as he enters the bedroom, still dressed in his sweaty workout clothes.
“Mon amour, you’ll never believe what just happened,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.
You rub the sleep from your eyes. “What is it, babe?”
“I adopted Oscar Piastri.”
You blink a few times, unsure if you heard that correctly. “You … adopted Oscar Piastri? The McLaren driver?”
“Yes!” Charles exclaims, flopping down on the bed beside you. “It all started when he tweeted about wanting to find Monégasque roots so the Monaco Grand Prix could be his home race.”
“Okay ...” You try to wrap your head around this bizarre situation.
“So I replied saying I could just adopt him if needed. And you know how Oscar is, always ready with a witty comeback.” Charles grins. “He said to call him Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc and that he wants to meet Leo on Thursday at McLaren.”
“Charles ...” You can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity. “You can’t just adopt a fully-grown man! Especially another F1 driver!”
“Why not?” He throws his arm around you, pulling you close. “We’re gonna be one big happy family. The two of us, Leo, Oscar, Ollie, and whoever else we decide to adopt along the way.”
You playfully shove him away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Maybe a little.” Charles winks. “But you love me for it.”
Rolling your eyes, you get out of bed and head for the kitchen, Charles trailing behind. “So does this mean Oscar is coming for family dinner this Thursday?”
“Of course! We have to celebrate properly.” Charles scoops Leo up from his bed, cradling the puppy in his arms. “What do you say, Leo? You ready to have another big brother?”
Leo licks Charles’ face, tail wagging excitedly. You lean against the counter, watching your husband and puppy with a fond smile.
“I suppose I’ll have to set an extra place at the table,” you muse. “Your mother is going to flip when she finds out about this.”
“Maman keeps asking when we’ll give her grandchildren, she’ll be thrilled!” Charles insists. “Who wouldn’t want Oscar as a grandson?”
You snort at that. “Grandson? You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”
“I’m serious!” He sets Leo down and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “We can make it official. Have a baby shower and everything once this weekend is over with.”
“You’re unbelievable.” You shake your head in amused exasperation, resting your hands on his chest.
Charles leans in close, his warm breath fanning across your face. “Admit it, my particular brand of crazy kinda does it for you.”
You bite your lip to stifle a grin. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll consider it.”
His eyes spark with mischief and he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his hair and kissing him back with equal fervor. A loud bark from Leo breaks you apart, both slightly flushed.
“Not in front of the puppy,” Charles teases, booping Leo on the nose.
You swat his arm. “Stop being a brat and go take a shower, you’re all gross and sweaty from the gym.”
“Mmm, why don’t you join me?” He waggles his eyebrows in an over-exaggerated leer.
You laugh, shoving him away playfully. “Not a chance, mister. I have to go out and buy another place setting for our new family member.”
“Can I at least have a good luck kiss? It’s Monaco race week, after all. I’ll need all the luck I can get.” Charles bats his eyes at you in an exaggerated pout.
Shaking your head fondly, you rise up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “There. Now go get ready.”
Still grinning like a loon, Charles saunters off to the bathroom. You crouch down and scoop up Leo, pressing a kiss to the top of his fuzzy head.
“Your dad is something else, you know that?” You murmur affectionately.
A few hours later, you return home laden with groceries to find Charles lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright.
“Good timing, I was just about to call you.”
“Oh yeah?” You set the bags on the counter and start unpacking. “What’s up?”
“I was thinking ...” Charles gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “We should do something special for Oscar’s first official family dinner. Maybe a nice home cooked meal out on the balcony?”
You lean back against his chest with a contented hum. “That does sound lovely.”
“I’ll cook!” Charles volunteers immediately. “My famous carbonara?”
“You just want to show Oscar you can manage to make something without burning the apartment down, don’t you?” You laugh, twisting in his embrace to face him.
Charles ducks his head sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”
“Well, I’m not complaining.” You peck him on the cheek. “Go ahead and make your carbonara for our new adopted son.”
“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air victoriously.
You shake your head at his antics, warmth blooming in your chest. “I love you, you big goof.”
The smile Charles gives you is utterly radiant. “I love you too.”
He pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss, holding you close. You get so lost in the moment that you don’t notice Leo trotting up and pawing at your legs until he lets out a pointed bark. Laughing, you reluctantly break the kiss.
“Sorry, baby.” Charles scoops up the puppy, scratching behind his ears. “We didn’t mean to leave you out.”
You take Leo from his arms, pressing a smiling kiss to his soft fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our favorite.”
“That’s right,” Charles agrees, booping Leo’s nose. “No matter how many race car drivers we adopt, you’ll always be number one.”
The three of you spend the rest of the afternoon lounging contentedly together, Charles and Leo snuggled up on either side of you. It almost makes you forget the madness that kick started this whole situation in the first place.
Almost.
A few days later, after the drivers have finally been freed from their Thursday media obligations, your doorbell rings. You share a look with Charles as Leo starts barking.
“I’ll get it,” he says, already knowing who it is.
Sure enough, a few moments later Charles returns to the living room with Oscar in tow, looking rather sheepish. You rise to greet your new son.
“Oscar, hi! Come on in.” You pull him in for a hug, which he returns tentatively.
“Sorry about all … this.” Oscar gestures vaguely as you part. “I was just joking on Twitter but then Charles actually went and-”
“Adopted you, yeah.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it, we’re happy to have you as part of the family.”
“Still getting used to that idea, to be honest.” Oscar scratches the back of his neck.
You wave a dismissive hand. “Well, get ready for lots of family gatherings and parental nagging from this point on.”
“Oh boy.” Despite his words, Oscar’s mouth quirks up in an amused grin.
“Starting with tonight’s big family dinner out on the balcony,” Charles interjects, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. “You like pasta?”
“Do I ever.” Oscar brightens. “Is Leo gonna be there too?”
“Of course! Can’t leave out my favorite son.” Charles scoops up the puppy, plopping him in Oscar’s arms. “Here, get acquainted with your new little brother.”
“Hiya little guy,” Oscar says softly, instantly melting as Leo licks his face. You watch the tender interaction with a warm smile.
“He’s taken a real shine to you already,” you comment. “I think Leo approves of his new big brother.”
Oscar ducks his head shyly but you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. “Guess that makes me an official part of the family then.”
“Damn right it does!” Charles crows, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both in for an enthusiastic group hug.
You laugh, squished between them. “Easy there, dad. You’re gonna smother the poor kid before he’s even settled in.”
“What, you’re not excited to finally have your dream son?” Charles teases, ruffling Oscar’s hair affectionately. “Our little family is complete now.”
Rolling your eyes fondly, you extricate yourself from the embrace. “Why don’t you boys go set up for dinner while I start cooking? The balcony still needs to be prepped.”
“You got it, mon cœur.” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before herding Oscar out towards the balcony, Leo cradled in his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get this place looking perfect for your first official Leclerc family dinner.”
You shake your head as their voices fade down the hall, chuckling under your breath. Only your husband would take a silly Twitter joke this far. But as you start gathering ingredients for your grandmother’s legendary bolognese recipe, you can’t help but feel a swell of contentment.
Having Oscar around is certainly going to take some getting used to. But there’s no denying the warm affection and familial love you already feel towards the bashful but kindhearted young man. He fits right in with the playful, chaotic energy that defines your little household.
By the time the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the apartment in a warm golden glow, the balcony is set up beautifully. You carry out the steaming pots of food to find Charles and Oscar setting out plates and glasses, Leo scampering around their feet. Your heart feels full just looking at them.
“This all looks wonderful, you two,” you say, setting the food down on the table. “Now we just need the guest of honor to arrive.”
“Maman’s never been late to dinner a day in her life,” Charles assures you. “She’ll be here any minute.”
Sure enough, there’s a rapid knocking at the door only moments later. You share an amused look with Oscar before going to answer it, Charles and Leo trailing behind.
“Maman!” Charles exclaims as you pull open the door to reveal his mother waiting on the other side. “Perfect timing.”
“Of course, we can’t start dinner without-” She breaks off abruptly as her eyes land on Oscar hovering behind you. “Charles, darling, who is this?”
“Maman, I’d like you to meet Oscar.” Charles beams as he gestures between them. “Your new grandson.”
A heavy silence falls over the room as Charles’ mother processes this bombshell. Her gaze flicks between the three of you, searching your faces for any sign that this is all an elaborate prank.
Finally, she seems to deflate with a sigh. “Oh Charles … what have you done now?”
And just like that, the floodgates open as both of you rush to explain the situation, talking over each other eagerly. Watching the animated scene unfold, Oscar catches your eye with a helpless look.
You just shrug, a soft smile playing at your lips. Chaotic as it is, this is your family now and wouldn’t have it any other way.
***
The following week, the doorbell rings just as you’re putting the final touches on dinner. Charles bounds over to answer it, Leo hot on his heels.
“Oscar! Ollie! Good, you’re both here.” Charles’ voice carries easily through the apartment.
You poke your head out of the kitchen, oven mitts still on. “Is that our other son I hear?”
“The one and only!” Ollie Bearman strolls in behind Oscar, looking completely at ease.
Oscar raises an eyebrow at the younger driver. “Why is nobody surprised you’re here?”
Ollie shrugs nonchalantly. “Teen pregnancy?”
You let out an undignified snort of laughter as Oscar gapes at him. “Don’t look at me, Charles carried you for nine months himself.”
“What?” Ollie whips his head around to stare at Charles in abject horror.
Charles just grins, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “You heard the woman. My body is a wonderland.”
“Oh my god.” Oscar buries his face in his hands as you dissolve into peals of laughter. “Why are you like this?”
“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” Charles replies cheerfully.
You wipe tears from your eyes as you head back into the kitchen. “Dinner’s just about ready, come grab a plate! Oh, and pray you don’t get food poisoning.”
Soon you’re all settled around the balcony table, tucking into plates piled high with food. Ollie kicks things off by turning to you with a smile.
“This is amazing, thanks for cooking!”
“Don’t thank me, it was all Charles this time,” you say, gesturing to your husband sitting across from you.
Ollie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You cooked all this? Damn, maybe having you as a dad won’t be so bad after all.”
Charles throws his hands up in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m an excellent father.”
“If you say so.” Ollie smirks, shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.
Oscar just shakes his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe you actually went through with adopting us.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Charles leans back in his chair, casual as can be. “You’re both great kids. Perfect sons.”
“Even if we didn’t ask for it?” Ollie points out around a mouthful of food.
You tsk disapprovingly. “Mind your manners, young man.”
Ollie’s eyes go comically wide and he quickly swallows his bite. “Sorry, mum.”
That sets you and Oscar off into another round of laughter. Even Leo gets in on the action, letting out a little bark from where he’s curled up nearby. Charles watches the scene with fondness.
“See, you’re already fitting right in,” he says warmly once the laughter subsides. “My two idiot sons.”
Ollie opens his mouth to retort but you cut him off, leaning across the table to affectionately pat his hand.
“Don’t listen to your father, Ollie. We’re happy to have you both here.” You shoot Oscar a wink. “Even if you did get adopted under … unusual circumstances.”
“You can say that again,” Oscar mutters, but he’s smiling.
Over the course of the evening, you take great delight in watching Charles easily slip into the role of devoted dad. He makes terrible jokes and embarrassing comments at every turn, clearly intent on annoying his new children as much as humanly possible. Yet it’s impossible to miss the deep well of affection beneath his teasing words and actions.
For their part, Oscar and Ollie play along enthusiastically. They roll their eyes and groan as if put-upon, but you can see the sparkle of happiness and contentment in their eyes as the night wears on. An easy camaraderie develops between the trio, fueled by plenty of back-and-forth needling and good-natured ribbing.
You sit back and watch it all with a permanent smile etched on your face. Your strange little family just keeps growing, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
At one point, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. When you return, the three of them have their heads bent together conspiratorially, hastily falling silent when you reappear.
“What’s this?” You raise an eyebrow as you retake your seat. “Am I being left out of the loop here?”
Oscar shares a look with Charles before turning to you with a sly grin. “We were just thinking ...”
“This family isn’t quite complete yet,” Ollie picks up easily.
You glance between them, utterly perplexed. “What are you two on about?”
Rather than answer, Charles pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. A few moments later, your own phone buzzes with a Twitter notification — a new tweet from your husband.
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Your jaw drops as you read the words over and over. “Charles! You can’t be serious!”
“Why not?” He shoots you an impish grin, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Kimi’s a good kid, he’d make an excellent addition to the family.”
“I … you ...” You sputter, completely at a loss for words.
Oscar and Ollie watch the exchange with matching looks of unrestrained glee. Ollie raises his glass in a mock toast.
“To Mum and Dad, the most extra parents on the grid!”
You shake your head in bewildered amusement as they all crack up. This family just gets more ridiculous by the day.
A short while later, Kimi responds to Charles’ tweet.
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The notification sets off another round of laughter and delighted hollering from the three drivers. You hide your face in your hands, torn between mortification and hysterical giggles.
“I can’t take you three anywhere,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
A warm arm wraps around your shoulders as Charles leans over to press a smiling kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”
You catch his gaze, momentarily speechless by the contentment shining in his eyes. For all the silliness and absurdity, it’s clear just how much this strange little family truly means to him.
Swallowing past the sudden lump in your throat, you reach up to cup his cheek tenderly. “More than you’ll ever know.”
He beams at you, pure adoration written across his features. Then the moment is broken as an Italian-accented voice rings out from the hallway.
“Hey, did someone call for a new son?”
Oscar, Ollie, and Charles practically tumble over each other in their haste to greet the newcomer. You hang back, taking a moment to catch your breath as you watch the now quartet bound back onto the balcony, a fresh wave of chaos and noise in their wake.
One thing’s for certain — life is never going to be boring with this group around. You shake your head with a soft chuckle, heading back to join your one-of-a-kind family.
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giggly-squiggily · 7 months ago
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She Likes You! (Black Clover)
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We're at it again- WHOOO! :D
Heyo everyone! This is part two of a collab I'm doing with the amazing @intheticklecloset We decided to embrace our shippy selves and our love of Black Clover to bring y'all some confessional tickles! (or in my case; realization ones lols)
💖💖💖For Nym's Part💖💖💖
Summary: Yuno does some thinking after Asta helped him realize his feelings for the Leopold. Maybe he can help him realize the ones from a certain water mage in return?
“Don't you think I’d notice if someone had feelings for me?
Yuno was still rather shocked by such a statement. The delivery was matter of fact too- like Asta truly believed in what he was saying. He was either convinced or obtuse- or both. Asta could be both.
The wind mage leaned back against the grassy hill, arms behind his head as he played back the other day’s events over and over again. It was a good conversation, and much has happened since. All good things really.
So why was he so hung up on the comment? Did it really matter in the long run?
His focus switched back to Asta and his teammate- Noelle was her name, right?-leaving. He remembered how she looked at him when he wasn’t paying attention, the warmth that spread across her cheeks and the softness in her eyes showing her true feelings for the smaller mage. When he did look at her, she’d hide it quickly- trying for disinterest with little success.
‘Is that how I looked with Leo?’ The thought hit him like a tornado, making everything come together. That was it- that same hopelessly in love expression that girl wore with Asta. She felt for him how he felt for Leopold.
Somehow, the thought made him rather sad. Yuno hadn’t realized it before, but he was starting to empathize with her situation. Being in love with someone who you don’t even know likes you back.
At least, that was his own predicament until recently.
“Hey.” A finger poked his forehead, making him open his eyes. Green irises looked down at him, framed by vibrant hair. He looked upside down from his position, but his smile was as bright as the sun. “There you are. Whatcha thinking about, wind chime?”
“I told you to call me Yuno.” He huffed with a small blush as the redhead somersaulted beside him, getting comfortable. He didn’t know what changed, but one day-Leopold approached him with his heart in his hands, declaring his feelings in that special Vermillion way of his. They’ve been keeping things on the downlow since, but Yuno couldn’t be happier. “I’m just thinking about Asta. That girl really likes him, huh?”
“Noelle? Oh man- she’s crazy about him!” Leopold nodded excitedly, scooting close to him and resting his head against his chest. “Anytime anyone brings up his name she perks up, but if you ask her directly she’ll try to drown you. It’s cute.” He grinned, his smile faltering some. “Still, I’m worried about her. What if Asta breaks her heart?”
“He won’t.” Yuno replied automatically, perhaps a touch too hard. Leopold only chuckled in response, patting his chest.
“I know he won’t. Not intentionally. I just don’t think he quite gets she’s into him yet.” Leopold mused, playing with the tufts of Yuno’s Golden Dawn uniform. “Granted, I was pretty dense myself until my siblings asked me if I liked you. After that, it was like someone cleared all the fog in my brain.” He grinned up at Yuno, eyes soft. “I know it’s not a perfect solution, but sometimes you just need somebody to come over and hit you with an obvious truth for things to click.”
Yuno had been nodding along listening to him, but that last part struck a chord.
Of course..why didn’t he think of that sooner?
“You’re brilliant, you know that?” Yuno told him, taking Leopold’s chin in his hand as he kissed him quick. The redhead was beaming when they pulled away. “Completely brilliant.”
“Hmm, tell me again without words, yeah?” The redhead grinned as Yuno kissed him again and again.
His plan would have to wait until later it seems.
~~~
“Noelle likes you.”
There- he said it! Since his time with Leopold, Yuno had been debating on how to approach the subject matter. Should he do what Asta did and teasingly lean into it? Ask questions that would eventually lead to his friend coming to the realization himself?
In the end, the second they met up once again to hang out- it just came out like that. His version of a greeting.
“Huh?” Asta blinked, staring. “..huh?”
Okay- maybe should have started with the greeting. “Hey, what’s up? Noelle likes you.” Nailed it! He watched, waiting for Asta to process the information.
“Well, yeah- I know that.” Asta smiled, nodding. “We’re friends, afterall!”
Yuno blinked, then he closed his eyes, seeking patience. “No, I mean- she likes you.”
“Yeah…I know?” Asta waved his hands before him, puzzled. “I think she likes everyone in the Black Bulls though. Especially Vanessa and Grey, but their all girls so it makes sense-”
“Asta.” Yuno tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice as he grabbed his friend’s shoulders. “She likes you. Like how I…really like Leo.” The confession wasn’t new, but it still made Yuno’s cheeks warm.
Finally, Asta seemed to get it. “Oh? Oh! Oh…nah, there’s no way! No way at all- she doesn’t like me like that.” Asta laughed as he took a step back. “I already told you, I’d-
“Yes, you’d notice if someone had feelings for you, you’ve said that before.” Yuno gave up on hiding his exasperation, shaking his head. “Sorry to say this, but I think you’re wrong this time.”
“Whatcha mean by that?” Asta narrowed his eyes some, raising his chin with an indignant frown. “Are you saying I’m not good at picking these things up?”
“Yes.” Yuno nodded. Asta sputtered in shock, eyes wide.
“Well! I’d never!” Asta puffed, his annoyance fading when Yuno started to smile. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”
“And you’re oblivious. I’m serious though- Noelle likes you.”
“I really don’t see it.”
“She calls you ‘dorksta.’”
“You call me ‘shortsta’- I don’t see you getting down on one knee.”
“You're not my type. She’s always looking at you.”
“Everyone looks at me!”
“Not the way she does! She’s always by your side-”
“To send me flying with water-”
“Asta!” 
“It’s true!” Asta cried back, shaking his head as he flopped into the grass beneath his feet, leaning back on his hands. “Even if she did like me like you say she does, it wouldn’t matter. She’s royalty- meaning she’s got an entire ocean of guys to pick from if she wanted. Why would she pick me?” Something uncharacteristically bitter entered Asta’s tone- a rare side of self-loathing Yuno never thought he’d hear from his best friend. “It’s like back in Hage when you pick potatoes; you grab the best ones first. No one wants the little guys.”
Yuno couldn’t believe his ears. Was this really Asta? Shaking his head, he sat down beside him in the grass, bringing his knees up to his chest. “Do you remember what you told me when I said the same thing about Leopold? You said I still have a chance, and that it didn’t matter about our social standing.”
“This is different, Yuno. Really different.”
“How?”
“Look at you!” Asta waved a hand at him, gesturing to his entire being. “You’re tall, cool as hell, have amazing magic- not to mention you’re an amazing person inside and out, even when you’re being a jerk. It’s easy to see why Leopold likes you so much- you’re the whole package.” Asta slumped some, his hand dropping back to his side. “But me..what do I have to offer? I’m short, loud, and smelly. I’m nothing until I become the Wizard King. Until then-what can I offer her if I did like her back?”
“Asta..” Yuno felt his heart break at his friend's words. Asta sat up then, putting on a brave smile.
“It doesn’t matter- I’m already in love as is! One day- I’ll come home and sweep Sister Lily off her feet! She’ll accept my proposal one day-AH!” Suddenly the world tilted as Asta was unceremoniously pushed back into the grass. “Yuno? You big jerk- you can’t go tackling people like that!”
“I’m not the jerk here.” Yuno growled, tone nearly unreadable as he cracked his knuckles, staring daggers into Asta’s soul. “Enough is enough- if you’re too blind to see what’s right in front of you, I’m just gonna have to open your eyes myself!”
“Huh? What are yo-ohohohooeheahhahaha!” Almost immediately, the smaller boy arched with a yelp, hands shooting down to grab Yuno’s wrist as they scratched along his waist. “Yuhuhuhuhuno, wahhahahait! Gehahahahah, yohohohou jeheheherk- whahahhat the heheheehll?”
“Oh? What- you think you can tickle me until I confess and not get it in return?” Yuno’s death glare melted into a warm smile as he carried on scritching his fingers against Asta’s tunic, making his friend squirm and giggle. “I’m not stopping until you admit you’re worthy of Noelle’s feelings!”
“Buhuhuhuht I’m nohohohohot! Nohohohot yheheheheht!” Asta cried out, arching when Yuno dropped to his hips, pressing tickly thumbs into the soft spots. “Geahhahahha, Yuhuhuhuno! Dohohohohon’t nohohoht thehehehhehre!”
“Yes there! You’re so dense, I bet if someone cut your head open, they’d find bricks! And another thing- what are you saying you’ve got nothing to offer? So what if you’re short and smelly- that’s just you! You’re also brave, heroic, and determined! Do you really think Noelle only likes you based on the shallow things?” Tsking, Yuno kept one hand on his hip while the other moved to Asta’s ribs, making him shout before dissolving into giddy snickers. “She looks at you like you’re the only star in the night sky. She hangs onto every word you say, and she’s always flustered and shy whenever you look at her. She’s in love with you!”
“Ahehahahahhhahaha! Ehehehheven ihihihihihif thahahhat’s truuhuhhuuhe- I dohoohohohn’t thihihihk-GEHAHHAHA YUNO!” The second fingers attacked his stomach, Asta was flailing like a fish, his softer giggles shooting up to a proper burst as his worst spot was attacked. “GEHHAAHHA NOHOHOHOHO!”
“Yes! This is what you get!” Yuno smirked, deciding to go all out. Pulling out his most diabolical weapon, he leaned down and got right up to Asta’s ear. “Come on, whittle Asta- you and I both know you’re much better than you think. Admit it, will you? Please, for me?”
“TRAHAHHAHAITOR!” As if Asta couldn’t laugh harder! The dreaded teasing voice Yuno discovered worked so well on him sent him into near silent laughter- face red and eyes growing misty. Finally, he gave in, smacking the ground repeatedly and pulling at Yuno’s coat in submission. “OHOHOOHKAY OHOHOHOKAY ENOHOHOHOUGH!”
Yuno did as requested, pulling his hands back as he watched Asta curl into a loose ball against the ground, gasping for air. His cheeks were bright red, stained with tear streaks from how hard he was laughing. For a moment, Yuno felt a bit bad.
Then Asta was on his feet tackling him into the grass for revenge and Yuno realized feeling bad for someone so energetic wasn’t always the best idea.
~~~
“Heh. This feels all too familiar.” Asta laughed, breathless beneath the warm sun as he laid side by side with Yuno. “Weren’t we just having this conversation?”
“Can’t remember. My memory is as short as you.” Yuno snickered, laughing more when Asta threw a handful of grass at him.
“Shut up! Jerk.” Asta grinned, looking up towards the sky. After a moment, he spoke again, voice careful. “Do you…really think she likes me? Like, truly likes me?”
“She thinks the world of you, Asta.” Yuno reassured him, watching the emotions play out on his friend’s face. Realization there might be something there, anguish of possible rejection. And hope…something hopeful that maybe, just maybe…”Even if she has a hard time expressing it. I think she’s scared to tell you cause you might not feel the same.
“You don’t have to tell her now if you’re unsure. Just don’t drag her along, okay? When you realize how you feel about her, make it known- regardless of what it is. Believe me when I say..” Yuno’s ears burned as he turned away from his friend’s watchful eyes. “It really, really helps to know from the otherside.”
Asta was quiet. Then he reached out, punching Yuno’s shoulder gently. “To think it was only yesterday it was me comforting you when you were unsure. Thanks, Yuno. For everything.”
“Hmm.” Yuno nodded, bumping his fist against Asta's, pretending the mistiness of his vision was from the earlier tickle attacks. “Thank you too.”
Thanks for reading! And another major thank you to Nym for collabing with me! This was the best!
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karahalloway · 2 years ago
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Sleepless in New York: Chapter 5 - Find Me In Da Club
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Series: TRR
Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)
Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.
Masterlist: Sleepless in New York
Chapter Summary: The gang arrive at the much-awaited club... where there are a few surprises in store for Drake.
Word Count: 4,400
Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, rude behaviour, angst, sexual tension)
Chapter theme song:
A/N: Apologies this took me so long! August ended up being quite a busy month, so I didn’t get as much writing done as I wanted to. Also... this is not the whole chapter 😅 Because this installment was getting close to 7,000 words (and it was still not done!) I decided to split it into two chapters to (a) give y’all something to read, since you’ve been waiting so patiently (or not, in some cases 😆), (b) make the posting on Tumblr a bit more manageable, and (c) this way I could use both chapter theme songs that I could not for the life of me decide between! The next chapter should be up a bit faster because it’s about half done already, and my schedule should be back to a bit more normal from September 🤞
Chapter 5 - Find Me In Da Club
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"Let me guess..." I sigh, picking up the tumbler to tip the rest of my drink back. "Max's bright idea?"
I know that going clubbing was the original plan. But I guess I kinda hoped we'd have more time on our impromptu detour... Especially since Gale’s finally talking to me, and I don’t want to lose the hard-won progress I managed to make with her.
Plus — as she so aptly put it just now — I’m nowhere near satisfied yet and I want to keep her to myself for as long as possible...
"Nope!" declares Leo impishly. "It was actually the girls' suggestion. And it'd be rude to keep them waiting. So, chop-chop!"
"Alright, alright," I grumble, dropping the glass back onto the bar top and reaching for my wallet. "I'll be over in a minute."
"Better make it a New York minute," Leo advises with a clap on my back. "Because it'd be mighty bad form for the best man to miss the climax of the night!"
He saunters off with a rakish wink in Gale's direction.
I roll my eyes as I pull the platinum credit card out again.
If there’s one thing that Chris didn't need help with, it’s finding a hook-up... Which is why I bet on him last night.
But Leo’s right in that I probably shouldn't hang around too long. Because this trip had been my idea, and as the de facto best man (even though it hasn’t officially been announced yet), it’s my job to make sure that Chris gets the best night out that the Big Apple can provide...
...and that he also makes it back to the hotel — and to Cordonia — on time and in one piece, and ideally without any recreational drugs floating around in his system. Otherwise, the plane ride back (not to mention the all-important Masquerade Ball) is going to be rough as fuck for everyone involved.
"So, you're here... on a bachelor party?" asks Gale, her voice cutting through my thoughts.
"Yeah," I reply, raising my hand to signal my desire to settle up with the bartender.
"And you're the best man."
"Yup..." I confirm, tapping the card against the bar top as I wait for the guy to print off the receipt.
She cocks her head to the side with a frown. "You don't seem very happy about it..."
I respond with a nonchalant shrug. "It is what it is. How I feel about it isn't important."
"Shouldn't it be?"
Turning my head, I catch her gaze. She's looking at me with laser-like focus — like she had last night when she'd been trying to decipher where I was from... Only this time it feels like she’s trying to get a read on my very soul.
I quickly break eye contact. "No."
"Why n—?"
"Cash or card?" asks the bartender, cutting off Gale with impeccable timing as he places the cheque in front of me.
"Card," I reply, quickly scanning the list of items to make sure everything’s in order.
Christ, this girl’s more persistent than a dog with a bone...
But I can’t exactly tell her that I’m best man to a prince at the mercy of tradition, and the last thing I’m looking forward to doing is standing by Chris' side in a few months' time, pretending to be happy for him while I officially and irrevocably witness his marriage to a blue-nosed social climber in front of God, his family, and the entire kingdom.
Because we’re supposed to be here incognito, and I’m not gonna risk my best friend's last night of freedom by blowing his cover to some girl I only just met.
And even if I had been at liberty to talk about the upcoming wedding, and the social season, and how the only reason we’re here at all is because Chris got shafted by his brother, it would be a pointless exercise anyway.
Because talking — about any of it, especially how I said 'yes' to Chris without a second's hesitation, even as I felt my insides burn up with betrayal at the knowledge that I'll be complicit in signing my brother's life away in a loveless marriage of political convenience to a woman he barely knows... or worse, Olivia — isn’t gonna to help me, and it sure as hell isn’t gonna help Chris.
Not when we’re both powerless in the face of the inevitable outcome.
"Thanks," I mutter, pulling the card back out of the machine and stowing it away in my wallet.
Better to just bury whatever resentment I’m feeling at being an unwilling pawn forced to participate in the whole monocratic set-up — next to the same hole I stuffed my bitter rage at Dad's untimely passing, my hurt at Mom's departure, and my guilt-ridden sense of failure at Sav's unexplained disappearance — and try to enjoy what little time I have left with Chris before I lose him too.
"Hey," she says softly, laying a hand on my wrist. "I know it's not my place but—"
"It's not," I confirm gruffly, stuffing the wallet back in my pocket as I stand up. "You comin'?"
She stares at me for a long moment — as if wanting to say something more — but in the end just nods silently before sliding off the bar stool.
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"Yeah! The PAR-tay's in da house!" hollers Max, raising the roof. "Whoop-whoop!"
"Now this is what I'm talking about!" agrees Tariq, sweeping his approving gaze around the club.
"Oh, wow!" gushes Gale's brunette friend, who I learnt on the ride over was called Hayley. "Check out the view!"
Chris claps Leo on the shoulder approvingly. "Looks like you picked well, brother."
I had to agree.
If there’s one thing that Leo’s good at — apart from sneaking out of official events and getting into the pants of any girl he sets his sights on — it’s having his finger on the pulse of every major city's nightlife.
And this place is no exception.
Located on the 16th floor of a swanky hotel, the club features floor-to-ceiling windows that lead out onto a large, wrap-around terrace dominated by an oblong hot tub set against an unparalleled view of both the Manhattan skyline and the Hudson.
And even though in real terms it’s still quite early — barely gone 10pm — the venue’s already heaving with what looks like the crème of New York's glitterati. Diamond-studded watches flash in tandem with Bvlgari jewellery under the strobing neon lights as glamorously dressed bodies move to the EDM beat.
In short? We've stepped into a Mecca of excess. And even though the flashy venue with it's high-roller clientele isn’t exactly my scene — you can smell the self-entitlement from the doorway — it’s the perfect place to cap off Chris' night.
Hell, the overall net-worth’s probably so high that no one'd even bat an eye at the fact that a bone fide prince has just waltzed in to join the party!
So, despite everything, I have to hand it to Leo — his days of flaking off have paid off big time. Because the entire club’s basically one oversized VIP area, which means that security’s tight, and I don’t have to worry about spiked drinks, kidnapping attempts, or someone recognising Chris...
...at least, not as much as I would have to normally.
"Ohmygod!" gasps Lucy, grabbing Gale by the arm. "Leo!"
The elder Rys chuckles. "I admit it is a rather divine set—"
Max shoves him out of the way with wide eyes. "Oh, my giddy aunt, you're right!"
"Guess we're not talking about me, huh?" observes Leo dryly, as shrieks of excitement erupt from the rest of Gale's girlfriends as they zero in on whatever it was that has got them all into such a tizzy.
Chris nods his head towards the other side of the club. "I believe it is that gentleman over there who's caught everyone's attention."
Leo follows his brother's gaze. "Ah. Should've guessed. The slightly more famous Leo. He's always stealing the spotlight."
"Undeservedly," mutters Tariq, craning his neck judgementally. "He's not even wearing a suit..."
"So?" counters Lucy tartly. "A suit doesn't make a man. He could be wearing a paper bag and he'd still look hot!"
I can't help but snort at the look on Besnard's face. "Told ya..."
"Keep it in your pants, Luce!" smirks Gale with a shake of her head... though I can see that her gaze is also fixed on the far side of the club.
"I'm just sayin'!"
"Holy shoot!" gasps Hayley, covering her mouth. "Is that Rihanna he's talking to?"
"Didn't they used to date?" asks Jamie quizzically.
"No!" scoffs Lucy. "How can you even—?"
"Come on," interrupts Leo, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll introduce you."
Lucy's mouth drops. "You... know him?"
"Of course!" he affirms, looping his arm through hers and Gale's. "Met him at the UN a few times. Brilliant chap! Just don't ask for photos or autographs."
Gale cocks her head. "The UN? How did y—?"
"It doesn't matter!" squeals Lucy, bouncing up and down like a jackrabbit on crack. "He knows Leonardo DiCaprio! Do you know how long I've been—?"
"You're not seriously going to try and get him onto your podcast again?" asks Gale with a wry quirk of her brow as Leo starts leading the procession away.
"Why not?" comes the objectionable reply. "I'm an environmental commentator, he's an environmental philanthropist. We're a match made in influencer heaven."
Gale throws her head back — exposing her long, slender neck — her laugh ringing out like a bell despite the loud music.
But I don't catch her reply because in the next second, she's pulled into the press, and I lose sight of her amongst all the bodies.
I heave a low breath.
There goes Gale for the rest of the night...
I know I shouldn't be surprised. Especially after I cornered her into coming clean about the crap she'd been through with that dick of a boss, only to shut her down hard her when she tried to return the favour by doing a rundown of my feelings on the upcoming royal wedding.
Because conversation’s a two-way street. And instead of opening up to her — like she opened up to me — I basically told her to fuck off.
And normally I wouldn't give a damn. Because my personal shit’s exactly that — my personal shit. I don’t need people rooting through it like hogs on a muck heap. And if that doesn’t sit well with the counterparty, then they can lump it.
But, for some reason, watching her walk off just now without a backwards glance — even though it’s completely within her rights to do so — feels like a kick in the gut.
I mean, since when the fuck do I care who she talks to? A girl I met yesterday and am never gonna see again after tonight?
It's not like this is a date, or that she owes me anything. Right?
"You coming, mate?" asks Chris, laying a hand on the small of Hayley's back to guide her after the others.
"Nah," I demure. "I'm gonna hit up the bar."
I may have shot up the hard-won progress I managed to make with Gale tonight, but at least I’ll always have whiskey as a consolation prize.
"You sure?" he queries.
"Yeah," I affirm, making quick eye contact with the two undercover Guard to let them know I’m passing Chris over to them. "Don't worry about me."
"Alright..." he concedes, eyeing me sceptically...
...but I've already turned away.
I know he knows that something’s up.
But Chris had more important things to do, like actually enjoy his unofficial bachelor party in the company of a girl who he obviously hit it off with back at the karaoke bar, instead of listening to me piss and moan about things that are — and always have been — set in stone.
Best that I just take my irritations and drown them in booze. Alone. Like I always do.
Threading my way through the crowd, I arrive at the busy bar area, and I feel a growl of annoyance slip out of me at the sight of the heaving mass of humanity before me.
Just fuckin' great...
But, short of forking out roughly five grand for table service — assuming we can even get a table on such a busy night — there’s no alternative.
Steeling myself, I dive into the press, trying to avoid sloshing drinks and stiletto heels as I battle my way to the front.
This is the biggest reason why I avoid clubs like the plague. It isn’t the loud music. It isn’t the dancing. It’s the fact that the bar’s always swamped and you have to fight tooth and nail to get your hands on a hastily prepared drink that you can have for half-price anywhere else.
It's all for Chris, I remind myself stoically as I squeeze myself into the tight space that’s just opened up in front of me. You can suck it up for one night, Walker.
Leaning onto the minimalist, polished brass bar top, I try to catch the closest bartender's attention...
...but just as I manage to make eye contact, a wad of cash gets thrust in front of my face by an over-manicured fist, narrowly missing my nose.
"Oi! Murudda!" cries a female voice from next to me in the perfect octave to carry above the thumping techno music and general shouted conversation. "You deaf, or somethin'? I said we need tequila, pronto!"
"We got Casamigos, Patrón, or Jose Cuervo," calls the bartender in response while sloshing gold-flecked vodka into a row of shot glasses.
I feel my jaw tighten. This is how people got served, huh?
"Make that Maker's Mark, double," I holler back, angling myself back in front of the interloping woman.
I'm rewarded for my asperity with a nod from the other side of the bar. "Coming right up!"
"What the fuck, shit face?" objects the girl shrilly, giving me a shove. "Am I invisible, or somethin'?"
"Nope," I reply as I pull my wallet from my jeans. "Just rude and obnoxious."
Her mouth drops. "What did you just say to me?!"
"The truth," I hit back, pulling some cash out. "You cut up about a dozen people back there. And nearly broke my nose waving your hundred bucks around like you owned the place."
"How 'bout I break your nose for real, jackass?" she snaps, getting up in my face. "Teach you some respect, huh?"
"Respect is earned, missy," I tell her calmly, exchanging the bills for the tumbler of Maker's Mark that is deposited in front of me. "And gettin' into a fight over a drink ain't how you get it."
Grabbing the whiskey, I turn pointedly away, not bothering to wait for whatever outburst she was gearing up to throw my way.
Un-fuckin'-believable...
I know that New Yorkers have a reputation for being brash and impatient. But that woman had been next level.
And I want to put as much distance between us as possible because I have no time — and even less interest — in getting caught up in a shouting match with a pissed-off Karen.
Slaloming myself between bodies, I make my way back to the others.
Arriving at the back of the club, I pause in a slightly quieter corner to do a sweep of the crowd, quickly spotting the now disparate members of our group. Leo’s stood off to one side, in solitary conversation with DiCaprio. Max is busy channeling his inner Travolta in the middle of a small but growing circle of onlookers. Lucy and Jamie are...making out on the dancefloor?
Huh. Did not see that one coming...
Normally I��m good at picking up on these things. But, I’m admittedly more distracted than usual...
Lifting the whiskey to my mouth, I continue my sweep of the club. Tariq’s trying — and failing — to flag down one of the VIP servers by waving his gold credit card around like a moron. Meanwhile, Chris has parked himself on a chaise long in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and is in deep conversation with Hayley about something, the two undercover Guard standing a few feet away.
The only person I can’t see is Gale.
Had she left?
I shake my head irately.
It doesn’t matter, dumbass.
She’a a grow-ass woman and can do whatever the fuck she wants. Up to and including heading off the rails, or even home with a hookup. She doesn’t need my oversight or my permission...
...even if the thought of her being felt up by some guy makes my teeth clench.
I throw the rest of the bourbon back angrily.
I know I shouldn't care. I know it’s none of my business. I know I have no right.
But something about this girl wipes all the God-given sense from my brain.
Hell, I barely know anything about her apart from her name and the fact that she’s pissed at me — again — yet all I can think about is ripping that flimsy crop top off and layering my hot and heavy apology all over her body until she’s begging me for salvation as she—
A sharp clink rends the air.
Glancing down at the empty tumbler in my hand, I see that a hairline fracture had appeared down one side.
Fuck.
This isn’t good.
I need air. Now.
Throwing myself out onto the terrace — before I shattered the glass completely — I’m hit in the face by the humid evening breeze.
But it does little to tame my pulse, or the latest iteration of the graphic fantasy that I can’t seem to get away from, no matter how hard I tried...
...which — if I’m honest with myself — isn’t very hard at all.
Because let's face it. The girl’s a pipe-dream. That I keep blowing up. So, an X-rated reverie’s the closest I’m ever gonna get to the real thing with her.
May as well keep on dreamin'...
I make it to the end of the terrace. Dropping the empty glass onto a nearby planter, I reach out and grasp the coolness of the metal and glass railing as I gaze out over the picture-perfect Manhattan skyline without really seeing it.
Instead, the mental images continue to dance in front of me, haunting me like ghosts.
Gale swaying her hips between my legs at the karaoke bar...
Gale looking up at me from the back seat of the taxi, her lips parted, her eyes pulling me in like the cusp of an event horizon...
Gale pushed up against the wall, moaning as my hands explored every—
I clench my eyes shut. Christ... I’m in too deep. I should never've—
"Drake?"
My head snaps around.
Gale — the real Gale — is stood next to me, face creased in concern. "Are you... okay?"
"Fine," I reply, tightening my grip on the railing as I look out into the night again.
I’m the furthest thing from fine. My palms are sweating, my gut feels like it's been tied in knots, and my heart’s going a million miles a minute.
But like hell am I gonna tell her any of that.
"Are you sure?" she asks sceptically. "Because you looked like you were going to throw your guts up over the side of the building just now..."
I snort wryly. "Trust me, I'm good."
The irony of the situation isn’t lost on me.
Neither is the fact that — just like Chris — she seems to have an uncanny habit of being able to read me like an open book... which is weirdly unnerving.
"If you say so, Dr House," she deadpans, lifting her arms up to rest them on the railing next to mine. "But just so we're on the safe side, I'm gonna keep you under observation."
I heave a breath. "Gale, you don't need t—"
"I do," she says softly, glancing up at me. "Because I want to apologise."
I reel back, dumbfounded. "Apologise? What in the hell for?"
"For trying to pry about something that's obviously a sore subject for you," she explains. "I should've just taken the hint and—"
"No," I interject, turning to face her. "You did nothing wrong. I gave you an answer you weren't expecting, so you tried to dive deeper. It was a completely natural reaction to have."
"Then why have you been giving me the cold shoulder for the past hour?" she asks patently.
"I..." I rake my hand through my hair with a sigh. "Because you're right. It is kind of a sore subject for me. But I'm not at liberty to talk about it."
She raises a brow. "Because of the bro-code?"
I blink. Who is this girl?
She throws her head back with a laugh. "Oh, don't look so surprised, bud! I grew up with three older brothers — I know all about your 'secret' ride or die rules." She raises her hands to emphasise 'secret' with sardonic air quotes. "So, I can respect the fact that you don't want to bad-mouth the groom — even if you think he's about to make the biggest mistake of his life."
"Erm, thanks," I mutter finally, managing to recollect myself. "For understanding. Most people wouldn't."
She shrugs up at me with a smile. "I'm not most people."
I swallow. Hard. Don't I know it.
She's close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off her body, taste the sweet earthiness of her perfume drifting over me, see the chestnut-coloured flecks that ring her irises as I stare into her eyes.
But as strong as the undercurrent of attraction is, I can't let myself get lost in the pull of possibility. Not 'til I've squared my accounts.
"Even so." I pause to clear the sudden hoarseness from my throat. "I shouldn't've cold shouldered you like I did. It was a dick move, and... and I'm sorry."
She shakes her head. "Drake, you don't need t—"
"But I want to," I insist, closing what gap remained between us on autopilot.
"Does that mean you're planning to make it up to me?" she whispers, her breath tickling my mouth as she tilts her face up towards mine.
"One hundred percent," I confirm, reaching up to brush away that same lock of hair that had escaped her up-do again. "I still owe you a proper apology."
Her eyes search mine.
I hold her gaze… waiting… wondering what she'll say.
A slow smile curves at her lips. "In that case, cowboy," she declares, flicking her finger over the underside of my jaw, "you can break it down for me on the dancefloor."
My eyes widen. "Wait... What?"
This isn’t what I'd been expecting. At all.
Her telling me to fuck off? Sure. Buying her a drink, a late-night dinner... Hell, even going back to her place for Netflix and chill had all been on the cards...
But dancing?
At a club?
Especially after she stormed out halfway through my karaoke routine?
No fuckin' way.
"What's the matter, Walker?" she purrs slyly. "You only do solo acts?"
I scoff. "No."
"Should I ask the DJ to put on some Rod Stewart?" she continues conversationally. "Get you in the mood?"
I suppress a groan. "No."
I knew that song choice was gonna come back and bite me in the ass.... I just hadn't expected it to be so soon. But, I guess I deserve it.
"Or do you need to take your shirt off?" She trails her finger down across the buttons at the front with a smirk. "Make yourself more comfortable?"
"Why?" I counter, leaning in. "Is that what you want, Gale...?"
Her eyes widen in the face of my sudden flip of the proverbial table.
"...because if you're lookin' to undress me, there's easier ways to do it," I remind her pointedly, dropping my hands onto the railing on either side of her.
Despite her initial frazzlement, she recovers quickly to meet my gaze coyly. "What makes you think I want to undress you?"
I feel a smile pull at the corner of my mouth. She wants to play it like that, huh?
"You mean apart from the fact that it's written all over you?"
She lifts her chin defiantly. "I think you're imagining things, bud."
"Funny you should say that," I reply with a lupine grin, bending low. "Because I'll bet my bottom dollar that right now, all you're imaginin' is skipping the unnecessary foreplay and diving straight into the main event..."
I hear her breath catch in her throat at the thinly veiled invitation.
"...which is that pool party, right there." I incline my head meaningfully towards the hot tub.
Her jaw drops.
I pull back with a smirk. Turnabout’s fair play, girl.
But in the next instant, that mischievous sparkle ignites her gaze again. And before I can blink, she's up in my space, calling my bluff as she hooks her finger through the front of my shirt.
My heart-rate jumps to 100.
"Or maybe I'm just looking to make you sweat, Walker..." she breathes against my mouth.
All the blood in my veins dives south.
"...and I don't want you to ruin your fancy shirt." She gives the material a sharp tug.
I groan despite myself. Fuck, baby, you can ruin all my shirts...
But before I can grab her, or kiss her, or react in any way, she's already spun away with a sassy smile, pinging the cotton against my chest. "Because you probably got just the one."
I let out an explosive breath.
Sweet Jesus. Somebody needs to put a warning label on this girl!
Because while I can think of a dozen better ways to spend the night than getting bumped around on an overcrowded dancefloor like a pissed off pin ball, my feet are already pulling me back across the terrace after her.
Like the hooked idiot that I am.
Because I can’t say 'no' to her.
And she knows it.
Which meant I’m royally screwed.
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The story continues in Chapter 6 - Let It Whip
Translations:
- Murudda = idiot / shit for brains
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Picture credits
Dancing - Rooftop - H&D - Drake - Bar - Harper - Skyline - Drinks
59 notes · View notes
awanderingdeal · 3 years ago
Note
Hi! I hope you're doing well. I would love to read a fluffy sort of companion piece to the unfair race, where perhaps Finn feels the itch to keep running and working out endlessly after practice but then stops himself and does something healthier instead with his boys, and they're proud of him. If you want to, of course
Hi Anon! Thanks for the request. I'm not 100% happy with this one, but here goes!
You can read 'An Unfair Race' here and it's other companion piece 'Endless Nights' here
Rating: T
CW: insinuations of poor mental health, an implied sexual joke and food.
Let me know if you feel I need to change the rating or missed any content warnings!
All credit for these characters and the sweater weather universe goes to @lumosinlove
Finn tugged his sneakers on, pulling the laces a little too tight at first, then flexing his foot to let the material push out to something more comfortable. Even as he shrugged on his windbreaker, a bright shiny thing he thought made him look like he belonged in a cutlery draw, Finn knew he was too wired for this run.
He'd never really settled down from his session with Heather this afternoon, a fate partially of his own doing. Finn knew better than the schedule social events straight afterwards, needing time to process the half explored ideas which would fester into angry beasts if he tried to ignore them. Still, he was human; what he knew was good for him, and what he actually did, were not always one and the same. An afternoon with Olli had been too appealing: shopping, cocktails, darts, and conversation dripping in sarcasm. Now, standing here at 10.30pm with his head full of too many thoughts, Finn was resentful of his earlier self.
Leaning over the bed to grab his phone, he caught his reflection in the mirror. The jacket was not something he ever would have brought himself, a present from his mom during his first year of Harvard. 'So I know you're safe in the dark' the note that came with the parcel had read. It was old and tattered, but Finn couldn't bring himself to part ways with it. The small declaration of love never failed to make him smile.
He'd reached for the phone to set an alarm, the tinny sound his reminder to return home before he pushed too far. He paused, looking at his background, a pilfered Snapchat of Leo and Logan with their arms slung around one another's shoulders. Leo's head was tipped back in a hearty laugh whilst Logan's smirked. His boys. His boys who were right there in this apartment.
Finn gave a long breath, stripped the phone pouch from his arm and changed into a warmer pair of pants than his running leggings. The windbreaker stayed. He found Leo first, sat on the couch with his legs crossed beneath him. He was yelling into his headset, accent dripping heavily through his words as he jabbed repeatedly at the controller. Finn faltered in the doorway, not wanting to disturb Leo's fun with his cousins
Leo turned anyway, setting a bright smile on Finn. "Hey fishcake, heading out?" He looked at Finn properly then, his smile mellowing into something more concerned. Lifting a hand to mute his microphone, he titled his head slightly. "What's the matter?"
"I was just going to see if you wanted to come for a walk with me," Finn said, hoping the reply didn't sound as desperate to Leo's ears as it had his own. "Don't worry though, you're busy. I'll check in with Lo."
"He's decorating cakes for Katie. We can ask if he wants to come with us though, it's nothing that can't wait. Give me one second." Before Finn could protest, Leo had switched his microphone back on and informed his cousins he needed to leave - just like that - which even Finn knew was not the done thing.
"Logan's baking?"
"I baked," Leo laughed lightly, hopping over the back of the couch. "Logan's decorating. I tried to offer help, but he insisted on doing them himself."
The cupcakes themselves were not bad at all. The kitchen, however, was a disaster. Logan stood amongst a chaos of icing, dyes and cake toppers, his forehead scrunched adorably into a frown as his fingers worked with a surprising gentle dexterity.
"I'm taking Finn for a walk," Leo proclaimed, dodging the soft punch Finn attempted to land on his shoulder. "Do you want to come, Lolo?"
"Ouais, but..." Logan spread his hands, gesturing to the counter in front of him.
"You can put the buttercream in the fridge, the rest'll wait until we're back."
Logan looked down at the cakes, then back up at his Finn. "If you're sure," he hummed, already twisting a closure around the bag of buttercream.
"They'll be fine, I promise," Leo reassured, offering and hand for Logan to take and tangling their fingers together. "They'll be perfect for her."
"You have something..." Finn chuckled, dragging a finger through a patch of pink buttercream on Logan's cheek and popped his finger into his mouth. "...everywhere." Finn tugged at the grey t-shirt speckled in edible glitter. "Go and wash up, we'll wait."
Logan fixed his eyes on Finn, a tension held between them, before he turned to head down the hallway. Leo propped his chin on Finn's head, the two of them swaying slightly to their own private rhythm.
"I-" Finn startled slightly. He hadn't heard Logan's approach. He lifted his head from Leo's chest, waiting patiently for Logan to finish his sentence. "- feel like I'm missing something."
"You're not missing anything, Lo. Running just didn't feel like it'd be fun today."
Logan pursed his lips, eyes inspecting Finn again. "Okay," he finally conceded, stepping into place beside Finn.
***
"Oh!" Logan pointed enthusiastically at the building they had just past. It had been empty for a long time, but recently the 'For Sale' sign had been taken down and the three of them had taken to a new game of guessing what the new business would be.
"A shoe shop, but you don't get to pick. The owner decides what the perfect pair of shoes for you is," Finn mused.
"The dream," Leo laughed. "Do you know how much of a struggle it is to get shoes for these feet."
"I'm a big fan of those feet," Finn waggled his eyebrows.
"Wh-"
"I actually know what it is, " Logan interrupted. "The lady was coming out of there when I was getting coffee yesterday, so I asked."
"That's cheating, Logan," Finn deadpanned, keeping his tone as serious as he could manage.
"Fine, I won't tell you then."
Finn lasted approximately three seconds before he groaned. "Tell me! Tell me!"
"I'm not sure, it was cheating, non?"
"It's a fabric and crafts store," Leo said casually, although he increased his pace to put a few steps between himself and Logan.
Logan halted, his face contorting comically into a bemused expression. "Leo!"
"Quoi?" Leo teased. "You two were having fun, I didn't want to ruin it. I bumped into them unloading a delivery a few weeks back."
"Excuse me, was nobody going to tell me?"
"I was just about to," Logan pointed out.
"Perhaps you should finish your 10,000 other projects first before you buy more yarn?" Leo raised an eyebrow. "I'm still waiting on my sweater."
"I'm feeling very judged right now, and besides I finished Lo's," Finn defended. "Yours is too big."
"Hey!" The protest came at him from both directions and Finn laughed.
***
"Thank you for coming with me." Finn pressed a kiss first to Leo's lips and then Logan's. "I know you were both busy."
Leo tugged him back, knocking their foreheads together lightly. "Thank you for asking us."
"Ouias," Logan breathed, joining their hug. "I know it's not always easy."
"You two make it easier," Finn smiled softly. "Alright, alright, I'm going to get a shower before I start crying.
Almost two hours later, Finn flopped onto the couch, his wrist throbbing slightly from the long entry he'd poured into his journal. Still, he felt lighter now and his normal wind-down routine had left him relaxed. Logan joined him, folding himself into Finn's lap, all remnants of his decorating having been scrubbed away in his own shower.
"Where's Knutty?" Finn hummed.
"He was doing a zoom yoga session with Natalie," Logan answered, tapping at his phone. "I think they're just gossiping now though, so I guess he won't be long?"
"Can we watch Lady and the Tramp tonight?"
Logan gave a long suffering sigh. "Okay."
"Le! We're watching Lady and the Tramp!" Finn yelled, snuggling Logan against him as he pulled up the movie onto the TV screen and paused it to wait for Leo. "Show me your cakes then, I know you took 10,000 photos," he nudged Logan lightly.
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carlyraejcpsen · 3 years ago
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alright, i’ve tried to keep quiet because i truly believe in karma and wanted this rp to close through the admin’s own actions and not give them any opportunities to blame it on me instead. it also felt like beating a dead horse, because i was sure they’d close the rp after losing a huge proportion of their active members and the majority of their diversity. however, after seeing multiple people sharing their experiences today, they are still posting promo posts and starting their event. so yeah, here’s my experience with @thevillagerp​​
NOTE: i no longer have screenshots from my conversations with the admins, as i blocked them when i left the rp for the sake of my own mental health, but i did save the text in my drafts, so the messages below are copy pasted. i have not edited them in any way. They also deleted my original anonymous messages off of their blog.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: racism, very vague allusions to homophobia and transphobia
so i was a member of this roleplay for around two months. during my time there, it was startlingly obvious that white fcs were preferred and prioritised, both from the fact that they got more plots and interactions in general and from the fact that admins never promoted diversity on the main. even now, they repeatedly say they “would still love to receive some more male and non-binary apps” while ignoring that they currently have a ratio of 8 fcs of colour to 24 white fcs. their diversity rules at the time were that 1/3 of a mun’s characters had to be played by an fcoc. so people could easily just play one or two white characters.
a while ago, i sent an anonymous message to the main asking if they had considered perhaps changing this rule to be 2/3 characters instead of 1/3, since there were so few muses of colour in the roleplay (as i said before, they’ve since deleted this from their blog so i cannot provide a screenshot). they responded that they had been thinking of upping the character limit to four instead of three, with a rule that 2/4 must be played by an fcoc. i gave them the benefit of the doubt and the time to enact this change, but nothing happened.
so a few weeks later, i sent them this message on anonymous:
I was wondering if you had thought any more about the diversity rules here? I know you said before that you were considering increasing the character limit, but I noticed that hasn’t happened and I wanted to know if that was a change we’re going to see or if you would consider changing the rules in another way? I’m really disheartened by the lack of diversity in the roleplay
at the time there were 18 characters of colour out of a total of over 60. they responded (again, i’m sorry i don’t have the actual wording since they’ve deleted the messages) that they had thought about it and decided against upping the character limit, but instead would be having a weekly “poc acceptance day,” where they would only be accepting apps with fcs of colour. they also said they were doing this “now that the waitlist was mostly cleared,” which meant that the rp was mostly at capacity anyway, so they needed to look more at how to encourage their existing members to promote diversity, since there weren’t spaces open for new people to bring them in.
i responded with another anon expressing my disappointment and pointing out that they had done more to prevent having too many celebrity characters than too few muses of colour, as at the time they had a ban on celebrity muses. i wouldn’t usually suggest a ban on certain fcs, but as it was something they had done for celebrity characters, then i supposed it was a reasonable option.
they didn’t even respond to this message and instead posted on the main asking me to come off anon to discuss it. so i did, and i sent them the following dm:
i didn’t want to come off anon because i honestly feel really ostracised in this group and didn’t want to make it worse, but i don’t want to drop this issue and you aren’t comfortable addressing it publicly so here we are i guess. like i said in my previous message, i really don’t see how a “poc acceptance day” is going to make anywhere near enough of a difference. people will just wait for the opportunity to play their white characters. there are only 18 characters of colour in a roleplay with over 60 characters. that’s less than a third, which is obviously concerning. what’s even more concerning for me is that these characters are more often than not overlooked. i am often ghosted when plotting, or people don’t even reach out at all when i like plotting calls or intro posts. and then i have to watch characters like leo almost exclusively interact with white women (i’m sure that’s not the only example, but it is the first that comes to mind as he is one of the more active characters).
so this issue goes so much deeper than there just not being adequate representation in the rp. i really tried to help, i suggested making it a rule that 2/3 characters need to be poc in my original ask and you mentioned upping the character limit in response. i was worried that my concerns were being brushed aside, but i waited a while to give you the benefit of the doubt and the space to discuss the issue. so you can understand why it was really upsetting today to learn that the one thing you suggested was dropped and instead replaced with something that is barely scratching the surface of the problem. and i don’t know if it was your intention, but by saying that you were waiting for the waitlist to clear, it comes across as not wanting to receive any backlash from people who would want to join with only white characters. and even if people did want to join with faceclaims of colour, they can’t because the waitlist is cleared. like i suggested, you could change the rules so that 2 out of 3 characters must be people of colour. or, as was your proposed idea, up the character limit to four. you could also put a temporary ban on white faceclaims until the ratio evens out. as i mentioned, it’s really distressing that this was something you were willing to do for celebrity characters, but not to aid diversity.
i also just want to make it clear that these have been the only anons i’ve sent, i know you’ve been getting other ones, but those weren’t from me!!
( for context, they were receiving anons from someone else claiming that they felt left out in the rp ).
i had hoped that coming off anon would show them that this was a very real issue which was affecting their members, as well as giving them a space to discuss it privately instead of on the main. they responded with:
Hi Em, thank you for coming forward. We really, really appreciate it and we understand it’s not an easy thing to do. We also appreciate you flying the flag for diversity so strongly. We can always strive to be better, we are on the same page with you here.
Let us just explain our decision making. Firstly, just to address the waitlist, that was certainly not at all our intention when we brought it up. It was a logistical decision with 5+ applicants having already waited a week for acceptance and aware of their position on a waitlist.
When we decided against upping the character limit (and therefore the 2/4 POC character rule), we thought a POC acceptance day could be a good alternative course of action. In our eyes, this was something that would probably bring more POC characters to the group than the 2/4 rule because we knew there weren’t going to be many muns taking up an additional fourth character. This was a rule we’ve seen other groups enjoy success from so we wanted to try it out here. Plus, we think a day that explicitly highlights diversity every week would bring the message to the forefront of everyone’s minds. As we said, we’re going to monitor this over the next couple of weeks to see if it brings any improvement because we’d really like to have it as an ongoing rule.
The non-POC ban is actually a measure we’ve spoken about too and we are considering putting one in place should this fail. Thank you for raising your concerns, know that we’ve taken them very seriously and we hope that you’ll trust our judgement in trying this rule out first to see where it leads.
first of all, i don’t think i even have to mention the wording of “flying the flag for diversity.” but the real crux of the issue here is that they supposedly wanted me to come off anon to discuss the issue, but instead just explained their idea further and didn’t take anything i said on board. they didn’t even say a single word about how i told them i felt ostracised and regularly got ignored. i knew from speaking to other muns in the rp who played muses of colour (and just from looking at the dash) that they felt the same way too, but of course was only speaking from my own experience.
i thought long and hard about how to respond to this, as i was so disheartened by their unwillingness to listen to their members and the fact that they didn’t care that i felt left out. it felt like they had asked me to come off anon just so they knew who was messaging them and therefore put a target on my back, so honestly the thought of being on the dash or talking to the admins made me incredibly anxious. before i had a chance, however, they responded again with:
Hi hun, we’ve continued discussing this issue over the last couple of days and we wanted to let you know that we’ve decided to put in place a non-POC ban instead. Thank you again for holding a mirror up to the group. We do hope that this will recorrect the balance.
so i waited to see how things would play out. they posted about this new ban here and pinned the post to the top of the main:
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[ IMAGE ID: a screenshot from thevillagehq of an admin update, which reads: in the interest of keeping the village a diverse space, we are currently only accepting applications for POCs. please note that any apps or reserves submitted to us for faceclaims that are not POCs will be deleted. we will lift this rule once we see fit.
thank you for your understanding and your efforts in making this group a brighter, more inclusive and diverse place for all. /END ID ]
this rule remained in place for around two weeks, during which time they made almost no effort to promote it. the above post was pinned to the main page, but that was the only mention of the ban anywhere on their page, they didn’t update the rules page or even put a note on the application page about it. during this two week period, the admins posted 10 promo posts, none of which suggested fcs or even mentioned the ban or diversity at all. the ban was then lifted suddenly when the pinned post was removed and the admins just went back to accepting apps with white fcs. the ratio had only evened out in those two weeks (from 18 out of 65 to 24/50) because of people going inactive or leaving, and there was nothing put into place to continue to promote diversity after the lift of the ban. in the three days after the ban was lifted, the admins posted over 10 promo posts, the same amount they had posted during the entirety of the ban. it was clear that they had no intention of actually making changes in their rp and had only done so because i refused to drop the issue.
again, i thought a lot about what i wanted to message them. i knew at this point that they didn’t want to make any real changes, but i still felt like i had to make it clear to them how disappointing their actions were. once again, i was messaged before i even had a chance, this time for bubbling.
as you can see in the above correspondence, i had told the admins point blank that i felt left out and ignored in the rp because of the characters i played (aubrey plaza, mj rodriguez and keiynan lonsdale fcs. all of my characters were queer and used either she/they or they/them pronouns). as a general rule, the only people who wanted to write with me and have interesting plots with me were people who played other muses of colour. the rp had a rule that you must reply to 3+ muns on every character, which i had been doing. i had only been back from my hiatus for a few days at this point and had responded to 6 different open starters the day prior. their message to me read:
Hi hun. There’s something we wanted to address to you directly. It’s been expressed to us by multiple members during these last few weeks that they have felt excluded by your character within the group, especially when it comes to the friend bubble that has formed between Mars, Bowie, Luvena, Asher and others. 
While we encourage the development of friendships and trust that this isn’t intentional, we have a zero tolerance for bubble roleplaying at The Village. We are aware that our three mun activity rules have been met by all parties involved, however, bubbling is usually a little more nuanced than that and it seems it has unfortunately begun to create a bit of a divide within the group. 
We have already issued individual warnings to a few people within the bubble, however with multiple members still expressing their concerns to us, we decided it would be better to address the group as a whole. We hope that by pointing this out to you, you will try and branch out to your fellow members a little more from now on - and try and be a little more inclusive when it comes to everyone else in the group. 
We take such matters very seriously as admins, and while we hope it won’t have to come to this, there will be consequential steps taken should we not see any changes in your interactions in the weeks to come.
as you can imagine, i was incredibly upset to receive this message after already telling them i didn’t get plots from many of their members and they had done nothing. even people who i had previously messaged continued to only write with the same few white characters. i don’t deny that we definitely had a friendship group between our characters, but there were multiple people in that roleplay, including the admins, who only cared about ship plots or plots with the same few muns. me and other people who received the same message had all previously told the admins that people aren’t plotting with us and gotten ignored, so receiving this message made it clear that they neither cared about us nor wanted us in their rp. and so i responded as below:
yeah i literally told you i felt left out because there are multiple people only writing with white characters and you never addressed it, so this message is honestly insulting. i have reached out to almost every new member, responded to multiple open starters and have tried to plot with as many people as possible. like i told you, i am often left on read or people don’t even message me at all. if people do message me, i am usually expected to put in all of the effort and if people aren’t interested in actually developing plots with me then i am obviously not going to force my characters on them. all of my characters are queer, non binary people of colour and the harsh truth of this roleplay is that people don’t care about them. i even wrote out a whole list of 20 detailed suggested connections in an attempt to get more plots and nothing came from that either. i’ve even gotten anonymous hate saying that offering to explain my characters’ pronouns was “patronising,” which i didn’t feel like i could approach you about because, when i told you about how i’m feeling excluded, you didn’t care.
so if i only have actual plots with the people who actually care about my characters, i make no apologies. i also don’t even have threads with half of the characters you named, asher being the only one, and have literally only just come off hiatus. so please explain how i am bubbling, because this really just feels targeted at this point.
you’ve made it endlessly clear that this rp isn’t a safe space for people who want to play diverse characters. the main was practically silent while you had a ban on white faceclaims, which you never actively promoted, and then you dropped that suddenly without putting anything else in place. you also deleted my initial anonymous messages asking about diversity as if you were trying to hide that there was ever an issue. you turned anonymous messages off, so that no one can safely criticise you. because i did that off anon and ever since it has felt like there is a massive target on my back. my characters have been “accidentally” on the activity checks multiple times despite me being on hiatus (people get a notification that they were tagged even if you remove their name from the list btw). plus when i asked for an extension on my hiatus, you said that you would allow it “just this once” which now makes me feel like i can’t come to you if i’m busy. right now, for example, i am in the middle of moving house, but i’m also stressed about trying to stay active because you have made yourselves completely unapproachable.
the ratio only evened out slightly because members left. then suddenly after the ban you’re posting multiple promo posts a day??? you couldn’t get more obvious. i came to you about diversity in good faith, hoping that it was something you were unaware of, but you have made it abundantly clear that you actively do not want to promote diversity in your roleplay, we are just here to be witnesses to your ship. there are multiple members who are actually bubbling who have been brought to your attention, but nothing has been done. leo continues to only write with the same three white and white passing characters. charlotte pretty much only appears to write with leo and post a vague “message me for plots” post that wasn’t even tagged. both of you only put effort into your ship threads with each other and the occasional text threads. even with something like group events: while i’ve been here, there’s been a pride event that neither of your characters were even in new york for (an event where i was the only one reaching out and posting multiple starters, by the way); there was no event last month, and this month all you’re talking about is this housewarming party.
i’m really disheartened that it’s come to this, but i can’t be here anymore. please post unfollows for all my characters. you’ve said multiple times that we should trust you as admins, but this message shows again that i simply can’t do that. from the disregard of trigger warnings, to the way you treated being held accountable for the lack of diversity, to how you respond to people asking for hiatuses, this isn’t a safe space. even if i stayed, the target you have placed on me is making it insufferable to just write my characters in peace.
the other muns who received the same bubbling message (copy pasted btw, we all got the same one word for word) all responded with their own concerns and criticisms in responses of a similar length to mine. none of us received a reply, our unfollows were just posted the next day without any further responses from the admins. a few of the other members who had written and plotted with us chose to leave as well, which the admins wrote off as us just dragging them with us as opposed to them being able to make their own decisions and being aware of the situation (which was incredibly obvious. no promotion of a white fc ban, suddenly being active on the main once they try to stealthily drop the ban, then the majority of their muses of colour leaving???)
i haven’t paid the rp much attention since i left, as i mentioned above i blocked the main and the majority of the members just for my own mental health. but from a quick scroll through today i can see that the only change in diversity rules is that now instead of your third character having to be a poc, it is now your second. however, you still only have to have 1 character out of 3 have a fc of colour. so very little has been done, but of course i’m not surprised in the slightist.
these admins don’t want diversity in their roleplay. if you play any character who isn’t a rich, white, cishet neurotypical, please avoid it at all costs. it’s not in any way a safe environment.
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sammyheroes · 4 years ago
Text
Not My Type
(ROTTMNT x 2012 TMNT)
Summary: Casey Jones confronts this world’s Donnie for catching April’s attention. The result is an eye-opening revelation.
Rise Turtles: Donatello, Raphael, Michelangelo, Leonardo, O’Neil 2012 Turtles: Donnie, Raph, Mikey, Leo, April
Pairing: 2012 CaseyxApril, Rise Apritello
Read it on AO3.
(I will take prompts too!)
.....................................
Casey Jones didn’t like it when another dude got his April’s attention. Sure, she wasn’t property, not even his girlfriend (someday...), and was her person, but Casey would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous. The worst part was that he was jealous of this world’s Donatello of all things. He hated it. His purple-clad turtle was a dork. He was also obsessed with his April. But this Donatello? He was cool.
Casey hated that.
He even had eyebrows! Those stupid eyebrows that his April’s asked him about and then asked him if he could fix hers. That’s when Casey noticed: his April was flirting with this Donatello.
“So... can you fix mine? I always have trouble with them.” Said April as she played with a strand of loose ginger hair and her foot made little circles on the floor.
Donatello glanced at her boringly and nodded. “Sure, let me get my kit.”
Casey glared from afar as he watched Donatello leave and return with an eyebrow set on hand and got to work on April’s eyebrows. He was starting to think why April never liked Donnie that way: she liked bad boys. A thought that made Casey smirk for a moment as he considered himself a bad boy, before frowning again. April seemed to gravitate more towards him in terms of romance, even if Donnie was her best friend. But this Donatello? He was also a bad boy and the worst part? He looked cool while doing it.
Casey also didn’t want to forget how April stared dreamily at him when his turtle friends decided to challenge the more colorful turtles in a fight and train (if Casey knew his Raph, he just wanted to see if he could take down the bigger Raphael, which he couldn’t at the end of the training session).
He and April were sitting on the sidelines along with this world’s Splinter, a shorter and more chubby version of the tall rat he had grown fond of. He was studying the other turtles, something that Casey Jones never did, studying was for nerds. But he had to admit he understood the appeal for the turtle. Being a softshell turtle, this Donatello was far more flexible than any turtle regardless of the dimension, except for Mikey. With all the twists and backflips and the fist he managed on his Raph’s angry face and survive... it all seemed to further catch April’s attention. Also, he looked far more muscular than Donnie and himself. Casey would not blame April for looking. At least, Casey tried to convince himself that April was just that, looking and nothing more.
From the corner of his eye, he could see that his Donnie had noticed it too. Which was funny, because that meant Donnie was jealous of a version of himself.
However, it all became a bit confusing when he met the other April O’Neil, or just O’Neil to distinguish them both. Casey noticed how Donatello’s demeanor changed around her. Small changes, but changes nonetheless. He seemed more relaxed around O’Neil than with April, even though they were technically the same person. Why would Donatello act relaxed and sweet with the brown-haired girl while he acted indifferent with April? They were the same person!
Casey narrowed his eyes at Donatello as O’Neil sat beside him on the kitchen table and casually hugged his toned arm while he worked on some blueprints for the portal to get them all home. The turtle caressed her cheek lovingly for a moment before continuing with his work; O’Neil gave her insight on a few parts.
Casey blinked. Ok... This was weird. Extremely weird. It was almost like... they were a couple. In his world, that was impossible. Donnie was way too obsessed with April and he himself might be way too careless for April’s liking. But here? They acted casual and caring, in a way he’d never seen his own set of Donnie and April back home.
He glanced at April’s (the ginger one) own frown at the two and then she left the room. Casey frowned. He had to settle this with this Donatello, so he waited until O’Neil left the kitchen not ten minutes later when he was finally left alone with Donatello. Casey cleared his throat and Donatello sighed.
“What is it?” He asked, annoyed at the fact that he was about to be interrupted.
“What’s up with you and my April?” Casey demanded.
Donatello looked up, a bored gaze met Casey’s eyes. “What do you mean, lover boy?”
Casey blushed at the nickname because it was true. “She’s flirting with you. She never flirts with our Donnie.”
Donatello groaned, annoyed. “Yes, I’ve noticed and it’s getting annoying, but I have not told her off for the sake of not causing trouble with the other turtles. I’ve also noticed my other self is head over heels for her.”
Casey stared. “You noticed?”
“Yes, and I don’t see her appeal. But each one to their own, I guess.”
“Whoa, whoa!” He pointed at Donatello. “April is beautiful!”
“I never said she wasn’t, Jones.” Donatello snapped. “I’m just saying that you should stop pestering me about your April and go back to bicker with your Donnie because I’m not interested in her. And tell her to stop flirting with me and to decide between you two for once. Or none at all.” He shook his head.
Casey glared. “Hey, that’s our business!”
“You made it my business by asking me to stop flirting with her, something I never did. I don’t want to get dragged into your weird romantic drama.” Donatello scoffed.
“But... you fixed her eyebrows!”
Donatello glared at the poor excuse. “Her eyebrows,” He leaned closer to him. “Were a disgrace. I was just being kind to her.” He sat back down. “Also, she’s confused between you two with your endless bickering over her, so I guess that she went to someone that was somehow familiar to her, even though we never met before, and formed an attraction. Not to mention, I’m pretty good-looking. I feel bad for her, but it is starting to get on my nerves. So I will have my talk with her and simply say I’m not interested.”
“But-but how!? How can you reject her?”
Donatello glared. “Don’t you want me to reject her? Please decide, I don’t have all day.”
“Yeah, I do. What I meant was how can you reject someone as pretty as her?”
Donnie glared. “Ok, first of all, gingers have no souls.”
Casey gasped. “Hey--”
“Second, if she isn’t cute, mean, and dark-skinned then she is not my type.”
Casey blinked. Cute? Mean? Dark-skinned? “So it’s true. You and O’Neil are together.” He breathed. Gosh, he couldn’t believe that in another dimension, Donnie got to stay with April.
“Yes, we are. And I will appreciate it if she stopped flirting with me or else if my April finds out, Ginger April isn’t going to survive the day.” Donatello grinned.
Casey stared back nervously. “Will she hurt her?”
“Nah, but she will be on her bad side until my April decides it’s not worth it.”
“Oh, that doesn’t sound so bad...”
“Then again, April is friends with a lot of voodoo practitioners...” Donatello mused. “She might talk with them about making a ginger doll.”
Casey gulped. “OK, just to talk to her.” He stood up to leave when Donatello stopped him.
“Jones?”
“Yeah?”
Donatello gave him a neutral look. “Resolve your romance issues and just be forward with her. The same goes for the other me. She’s not a prize to be won,” He sighed. “That’s why she hasn’t chosen any of you. Keep treating her like this and she will find someone else. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.” Casey nodded. He hated to admit that this Donatello was probably right. He might need to have a serious talk with his Donnie and April.
“Good. Now leave before I decide to feed you to Raph.”
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fbfh · 4 years ago
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domestic cozy moments with leo - an anthology
i should really be asleep
aged up to 18+ obvs,,,, rlly wishing this was real rn lmao,,, also it’s fluff if u couldn’t tell 
1600 words
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You set down your last box, hearing a thump in the next room as he sets his. You will your legs to carry you into the next room where he’s waiting, standing, looking at you. The glaring over head light still somehow makes him look good, and you can tell, by this point, that he’s thinking something similar about you. He pulls you closer with one strong comforting gesture, and you both flop unceremoniously down onto the bare mattress on the floor. You tuck the crook of your elbow over your face to block out the harsh light, and gently rub your face into the material of his shirt; a dark flannel over a deep red hoodie, some quote splashed across the chest. The arm wrapped around you bent, his hand brushing the hair at the top of your forehead. 
“We did it,” he breathed.
“Yeah,” you replied, “now we just gotta unpack everything.”
“And organize.”
“And decorate,” you add. There’s a beat of silence.
“God, this is gonna be a nightmare, isn’t it…” he laughs, head resting on top of yours. A slow, tired chuckle rocks your body. 
“Yeah, probably…”
You’ve both been up since about 4am, and have only just finished moving into your apartment. It’s around one or two in the morning. You’re beyond exhausted, the thrill of the move and shitty, delerious humor keeping you running for the last few hours. 
“Y’know what,” he moves, kicking off his shoes, “I say we just crash for the night. Deal with the rest of it in the morning.” He’s already mumbling, his voice groggy - groggier than before - and you can tell he’s losing orbit. Against your wishes, you make yourself sit up. You kneel over to a box a few feet away, and rip the tape off. You pull out a duvet, and shuffle back over to him. 
“Yeah,” you say, already slipping out of your sneakers and throwing some of the blanket over him, “sounds good.” You curl back into him, into a slightly more comfortable position, and start to settle down. 
“Shit,” he hisses, “the light.” You realize the light’s still on and groan.
“Oh god… we’re really that dumb,” you can feel the sleep deprived laughter taking over.
“Wait, wait,” he giggles, the infectious laugh spreading. He leans over, fumbling for the mop next to the broom and vacuum, and holds the flat head, the pole in between his fingers. You feel him shift, and pry your eyes open. He’s almost got it. You make some encouraging ‘oh, ooooh!’s as he lines up the loop at the top with the light switch on the wall and darkness engulfs you. He lays back down in a heap, setting the mop on the floor next to him. 
“Nice!” you press a kiss below his ear, the closest place you could reach, and he mutters sleepily, “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be signing autographs in half an hour,” laughter seeping into his words like a teabag in hot water as he pulls his hood up. Your limbs are already tingly with sleep. He mutters something you can’t make out, and you’re pretty sure you tried to ask what, but you don’t remember anything after that. You don’t know who fell asleep first, but you both slept really well that night. 
~
Your piping was migraine worthy. 
That’s what Leo had said after about a minute under your bathroom sink. 
You had noticed the water pressure in the sink got really weak after a day or two. Your apartment was pretty old, so it wasn’t surprising. 
“Should we call the superintendent?” you asked through a mouth of ramen. A smile hit his eyes, and you finished the thought he hadn’t said.
“To let him know,” you shoved his chest playfully, “I know you can fix it, that wasn’t a question.” It backed off, and instead he said, “You can try, but I’m pretty sure he’s one of those three-to-five-business-days types.” 
“Well, at least he’ll know what’s going on.” He still had that look. “I’ll tell him not to call a plumber. My boyfriend’s an engineer and can more than handle it.” He seemed satisfied, and grabbed his tools. 
“I’m just saying, I think I know a thing or two about this stuff…” You pulled the still ringing phone from your face. “Duh, you’re the-” the phone stopped ringing. Voicemail. You rolled your eyes as the beep sounded, and left a brief message explaining who you were and the situation. After you finished talking, you hung up. 
“God, I hate talking on the phone,” you mutter. You turn the corner to the bathroom doorway. 
“How’s it looking?” you lean on the door frame, and suppress a chuckle at the sight of your boyfriend laying on a skateboard under the bathroom sink. 
“This makes… no sense…” he muttered. “I mean, who- why would you put a dual check there?” You smiled, loving when he talked about his hyperfixations, even if it barely made sense to you. You decided to check back in a bit, and went to transfer some laundry. 
It had been a while. You had checked on Leo two or three times, and he was still doing something under there. He had come out once or twice to get some parts or piping from his supplies, then went straight back to work. If only you had a dollar for every time you heard him sigh, “there’s gotta be a better way to do this…” It’s been two hours and he needs a break. 
You walk back into the bathroom, step over him, and sit down, your hips right on top of his.
He stops.
He pushes you both out from under the sink, skateboard rolling slowly, his eyes locked with yours.
“Hello,”
“Hi,”
~
You just wanted to take out the trash, that was all. But when you entered the back alley and saw a little kitty cat looking so scared by the dumpster, you couldn’t stop your instincts. You set the trash down slowly, scooped up the cat, and marched back inside. You set her - or him? You weren’t sure yet. You set them in the bathroom, made a little nest of towels close to the radiator, and left, closing the door behind you. You came back in with a small storage bin with cat litter - which Leo luckily had on hand for absorbing oil spills in his garage - paper bowls with some tuna and water, and a small ball of yarn from a long since abandoned craft project. The kitty ate all the tuna in record time, and looked at you, asking for more. 
“Wait for that to digest, then you can have seconds.” you said, softly. You gave them a little head pat, and they skittered away, unused to affection. It made your heart a little sad. But it’s okay, you reminded yourself, kitty’s gonna get lots of love from now on. You adjust your seat on the edge of the tub, trying to stop your butt from going numb. You pick the cat up to put them in their makeshift bed, and check under their tummy. Yup, girl kitty. She lets out a high pitched meow, and you can tell she’s still pretty young. You pet her back, and she arches up, her tail curling. She moves away from your hand, still not used to it yet, but a loud purr resonates through her chest and off the walls. You hold back a delighted squeal as she curls up into a ball. Oh jeez, do you have any blankets? You could cover her with a towel, but do you have anything softer? You leave to check, closing the door securely behind you. You dig through the linen closet for a few minutes before you hear the door open and close. 
“Honey, I’m home,” Leo quipped, putting his jacket on the coat rack. You picked up a small fleece decorative blanket you had no use for until now. 
“Hey,” he turned the corner, and placed his hand on your face, and your free hand rested on his. He pressed a warm kiss to your lips, and pulled away even though he didn’t want to. “Hey, Sparky,” you replied, a smile only he could give you blooming on your face. 
He started to tell you you two could catch up in a minute, he just has to wash the stubborn leftover machine oil off his hands, but you stopped him before he could.
“I have a surprise.” You said.
“Okay,” he replied, smiling, “what is it?”
You bit your lip, and quickly pulled him into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind you. 
“Woah, babe,” he smirked, “if you wanted-” his voice cut off when he saw you kneeling next to a small kitty. 
“Her name is garbage, cause that’s where I found her!” you giggled, quoting the episode of The Office you two had watched just last night. 
“Aww,” he cooed, and began to wash his hands hastily so he could pet her, “she’s adorable!” his voice was soft, and higher than normal, and it was the cutest thing you’d ever heard. He dried off his hands, and bent down to give her a cuddle. You stayed like that for a while, watching her play with string and baby talking her. 
“By the way, Estrella,” he said, breaking his baby voice to look up at you, “we’re not actually naming her garbage, right?”
“No!” you laughed, “She’s too cute, that’d be mean…” 
He giggled at your face, and you two batted names back and forth for a while, trying to find the right one, and eventually settling on Jackhammer, maybe Jack for short.  “She’s definitely as loud as one,” Leo mused when he’d first heard her purr.
She purred a lot more after that.
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toffrox · 3 years ago
Text
Out Loud
Read on Ao3
Will
Will wasn't exactly sure if there was an exact moment that he knew he was in love with Nico.
Maybe, he mused, it was that evening in the infirmary. When Nico had looked up at him with wide, beautiful eyes and said "I think you you should kiss me."
Or, maybe, it was before that. Maybe it was the first time Will saw him laugh. Or the first time he surprised Will with lunch at the infirmary during a busy shift.
Sometimes, Will wondered if it was on the day they first met. Maybe on some level, he always knew.
Then again, the moment Nico first called Will his boyfriend was a strong contender.
They had been sitting up on Half Blood Hill together, watching the sunset. It was the night after Apollo had left Camp with Leo, Calypso and Festus, and they were all still reeling from the battle with the Colossus.
He and Nico had been discussing the fight, which had led them to a memory of the last battle they had fought together, on this very spot, when Nico had stumbled across Will, Cecil and Lou Ellen.
"I was so angry at you for using your powers when you were that close to fading." Will said, glad that they could laugh about it now. Nico smiled a wry smile.
"And I was so angry at you for being so smug about it." He grouched. "Remember when you ran straight at the enemy as a distraction? With absolutely no plan to defeat them? I never understood how you could be so calm with 6 roman legionnaires on your tail."
Will grinned at him, eyes sparkling.
"I knew you would save me." He said simply.
Nico rolled his eyes, but Will could see that he was pleased. The corners of his lips twitched in that way Will loved and Will leaned in to kiss him. Nico pulled back before he could, trying to look stern.
"Absolutely not. You are not getting a kiss for that." He said sternly.
"Please?" Will asked, fluttering his eyelashes as dramatically as he could.
Nico cast his eyes to the sky as if asking for help from the Gods.
Luckily, Will knew he wouldn't be counting on them too much. He swooped in and pecked Nico on the cheek, which made him laugh.
"My boyfriend is a sap." He sighed, his eyes still cast skywards.
Will pulled back at that, his mouth open in shock.
"I... I can't believe you just said that" He found himself saying. His voice came out excited and breathless.
Nico quirked a single eyebrow.
"Said what?" He asked dryly.
"You just referred to me as your boyfriend." Will said, incredulous.
Nico frowned at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Um. Yeah..."
Will felt a massive grin spread across his face. His heart ballooned with a feeling so strong it was verging on painful.
Nico frowned deeper, looking utterly perplexed.
"Will." He said, the way one might speak to a small child or a confused pet. "You are my boyfriend."
The feeling in Will's chest ballooned even bigger. His cheeks ached.
For a second, Will felt as though he was going to cave in and say the words that had been on the tip of his lips for quite some time now.
Instead, before he knew what he was doing he dived forward into Nico's arms, clutching his waist tight and burying his face in Nico's chest. He felt a startled breath push itself out of Nico's lungs.
"You've never said it out loud before..." Will mumbled into his shirt.
Nico let out a surprised laugh, but held him tighter, one hand carding through Will's hair, his touch particularly gentle.
"Like I said." he chuckled. "A complete sap."
-
Maybe that had been the moment...
But then again, there had been moments like that before, Will supposed.
Moments when the two of them had been teasing each other, or holding each other, or wrapped up in one another, physically and mentally.
The time Nico first told him about his past. The time they had decided officially to be more than friends. The day Will had introduced Nico to his mother...
Each of these moments, Will could feel it. The unspoken words. Those intense feelings he was so sure that both of them felt.
Except that the timing had never been right. And for a lot of those moments, neither of them had really been ready.
Will supposed really that the moment on top of Half Blood Hill hadn't been the first time he'd felt in love. But it was the first time he'd felt ready to say it.
Except that he didn't.
And he wouldn't, he decided, until Nico was ready too.
For now, he thought, they would continue to sit in those moments together - both feeling, neither saying - waiting for the right time to arrive.
-
The first time Nico said "I love you" out loud, Will was asleep.
Or, at least, Nico thought Will was asleep. That's what Will assumed.
Will was sleeping in the Hades Cabin, as he often did, despite the relentless teasing it prompted from Austin and Kayla.
Usually, Will fell asleep before Nico. Nico slept so fitfully anyway, and Will always felt more tired once the sun had set.
But tonight, Will couldn't sleep. It had been a rough day. A new camper had arrived with their protector early in the day, both pretty injured from a run in with some hellhounds on their way here. Then Ellis got beaten up pretty badly in training, and there was an explosion in Bunker Nine, resulting in several Hephaestus campers all getting injured as well.
On top of that, Kayla was having a dark week and hadn't been able to get out of bed that morning. Will had been pushing down his worry about her all day, working the infirmary alone while Austin stayed in Cabin Seven to keep her company and make sure she took her anti-depressants. That evening, Will, Austin Nico and Lacy from Cabin Eight had all piled into bed with her to watch her favourite movie. Kayla had sat with her head on Will's shoulder and Will had forced down his worry some more; he knew that Kayla hated it when he was worried about her.
So by the time Will crashed into Nico's bunk, his brain forgot that he was physically exhausted and instead chose that moment to surface every worry he had been avoiding.
Nico climbed into bed after him and held Will to his chest and said in a low voice that he should get some rest and look after himself and they would talk in the morning.
Slowly, Will felt his muscles ease up. And eventually, his mind eased too.
He rolled over, Nico shifting forwards so that he stayed curled around Will's body, nuzzling his face into Will's hair.
"Goodnight, Will." He whispered. Will sighed softly in response, too tired to reply.
He lay there in Nico's arms, his mind not fretting anymore but moving too quickly to sleep, despite his body's growing heaviness.
He felt Nico's breath on the back of his neck and could tell that he was still awake.
It could have been hours that they were lying there like that, on the edge of sleep. Will wasn't sure exactly how long it was, when Nico's voice cut through the room again.
"Will?"
It was barely a whisper, breathed out against the back of his neck.
Will tried to blink his eyes open, but his lids were heavy. He tried to shift, but his limbs stayed put. He thought that he mumbled a response, but Nico didn't seem to hear him.
He paused for a moment, then Will felt a hand squeeze his waist, as if silence was the response Nico was hoping for.
He felt the faint brush of Nico's lips, pressed just under his ear.
Then, a whisper:
"I love you."
Something about those words seemed to mean something to Will's sleepy brain. He felt his lips curve into a lazy smile. He felt something warm settle in his chest. And before he could really think much on it, he had dropped into proper sleep.
-
The next morning, the full force of Nico's words hit Will as he sat up in bed, remembering the whispered confession. He wondered if it was real, or if he'd dreamt it.
Nico was tangled up in the sheets, his face smooth and angelic as it always was when he slept.
Will carefully extricated himself from Nico's bunk, preparing to head back to Cabin Seven and check in on Kayla.
He pressed a kiss to Nico's forehead and whispered "Love you too, Death Boy."
Then he smiled to himself, heart full, as he walked back across the green with the sun rising behind him.
-
A few days later, Will got his proof that it hadn't been a dream.
They were sitting out by the beach, in their favourite spot.
It had been another particularly heavy shift at the infirmary and Will was sitting between Nico's legs, dozing with his head leaning back on Nico's chest.
Nico's whisper "Will, are you awake?" had roused him, though his voice was gentle enough that his eyes stayed closed.
He was about to blink them open, to respond with a sleepy "hmm?", when the warm memory of that night in Cabin Thirteen bubbled up into Will's mind. He must have smiled, but he held back his reply.
Instead, he kept his eyes closed and let himself sigh, sinking further into Nico's arms.
"No?" Nico whispered.
Will stayed quiet.
He felt Nico's lips press ever so softly against the top of his head. And then, another whisper;
"Love you."
It was quiet, just like last time, even more difficult to hear over the sounds of the sea and the wind and trees rustling nearby.
But Will heard it. And Nico's arms tightening around him confirmed that he hadn't imagined it.
-
The third time it happened, Will stayed awake deliberately.
He suggested coming to Cabin Thirteen for the evening at dinner. Nico was surprised (Will usually waited for Nico to invite him rather than invite himself), but he seemed pleased.
They played Mythomagic for a while and then watched a movie. Will made an effort to be extra affectionate, shooting Nico warm, sappy smiles wherever he could and pressing kisses to his shoulder in the way he knew made Nico melt every time.
When they settled down to sleep, Will rolled over and willed himself to relax into the pillow.
He slowed his breath as much as he could and let the tension drain out of his shoulders.
Then, he waited.
For a while, Nico lay tense at Will's back. It always took him a little while to get in the headspace for sleep if he'd had a day free of shadow travel or any other kind of Underworldly power, and today had been a fairly uneventful day. His breath brushed against Will's neck steadily, but quickly.
At one point, Will wondered if maybe he knew that Will was awake. Or maybe the last two times had been flukes, one offs.
But then, eventually, the whisper came.
First checking, making sure he was asleep.
"Will?"
Will pursed his lips to stop himself from grinning. He stayed quiet.
Nico breathed out a sigh of what might be relief. He moved his mouth to just under Will's ear and whispered again.
"I love you."
Glee sparked in Will's chest. He had to fight to keep his breathing even. Except that focusing on that when his heart was swelling with joy at the same time caused his skin to glow against his will.
He felt a flash of panic as Nico gasped and pulled back slightly.
Would Nico realise what Will had done? Would he notice Will was actually awake?
Instead, Will was simply granted another secret whisper. This one breathed out in awe, Nico's voice sounding sweeter than Will had ever heard it.
"You are so beautiful."
Will felt himself blush furiously into the dark.
Nico usually never complimented him like that in the daylight. He usually went for snarky, teasing comments when they were together. Even in his more sincere moments, he stuck to praises about his personality over his appearance; he commented on Will's skill as a healer, or his kindness or his humour. He'd never called Will beautiful before. Never spoken so earnestly like this.
For a second, Will thought that maybe he would open his eyes, and reply to Nico. Maybe he would reveal that he'd heard Nico's words and say them back.
But then Nico was sighing contently and rolling over behind him, ready for sleep.
Maybe tomorrow he'll say it during the day.  
-
But Nico didn't say it the next day. Or the day after that either.
So pretending to sleep whenever the two of them are napping together instead became something of a guilty habit of Will's. A routine.
Maybe Nico wasn't ready to say the words in the daylight, but for now, just knowing that he was right, that they did feel the same way, was more than enough.
For weeks, months, the routine persisted:
The two of them said goodnight. They cuddled.
Will pretended to sleep.
Nico checked to see if he was awake.
Will was silent.
Nico brought his lips to the spot just behind Will's ear.
Nico whispered "I love you."
And Will glowed.
-
Then, one night in the middle of spring, the routine broke.
Nico had been hearing voices from Tartarus. Will was spending the afternoon with him to distract him. They were sitting on the porch of the Big House, waiting for their first pinochle lesson with Mr D.
It wasn't a particularly special moment, really. But Will was convinced that Nico had been about to say it.
Will looked out over the camp and turned to find Nico gazing at him with an oddly sincere expression.
Will felt his cheeks flush pink, which only intensified Nico's look.
"What is it?" Will asked. He felt almost shy. His heart thudded slightly faster.
"I-" Nico hesitated. He started to smile.
Will was so sure that he was going to say it.
"Alright you two, come on in." Mr D appeared on the porch. Nico and Will both jumped. Mr D frowned. "What? Am I interrupting something?"
Will blushed and Nico laughed nervously.
"No, no, of course not." He said.
...But Will had been so sure.
-
That night, Nico whispered, "Will, are you awake?"
Will held back his smile.
Nico leaned forward, brushing his lips against Will's ear.
"I love you."
Will let out a hum of contentment.
Then, his eyes snapped open.
Shit.
He'd never done that before. That wasn't part of the routine.
Nico shifted back ever so slightly, his body tensing.
"Will?" He said, out loud. Not a whisper.
Will squeezed his eyes shut, heart racing. Maybe he would think it was a coincidence. Maybe he hadn't seen his eyes open.
There was a long, tense pause.
Nico rolled over. And Will prayed that he hadn't just messed this up.
-
The next morning, Nico wouldn't look at him.
He avoided breakfast, and didn't drop by the infirmary.
Will started to worry.
He left his shift early to look for him. But he wasn't in Cabin Thirteen, or at the beach, or the arena.
Gods, how had Will made such a mess of this?
He headed out of the dining pavilion after lunch, thinking maybe he could talk to Rachel about this. She would know what to do.
But when he approached the entrance to the cave, he heard Nico's voice.
Will froze, overhearing Nico's words before he could stop himself.
"-don't know what to do! He obviously heard me, but he pretended like he didn't! Do you think I freaked him out? I thought he felt the same way..."
Will pulled back, retreating as hurriedly as he could.
He forced himself to hold in his laugh.
He forced himself to wait until his heart rate slowed down again.
Then he shook his head, and returned to the infirmary for the afternoon.
This had gone on long enough, he decided. It was time that one of them to stop being an idiot.
-
Will snuck over to Cabin Thirteen just before curfew.
Nico seemed surprised to see him when he slipped in the door and went straight to Nico's bunk. But he didn't say anything and nodded willingly when Will murmured "Is this ok?"
Nico held him tight.
Will told him: "I couldn't sleep without you" and Nico's grip tightened.
Will waited.
-
"Will - you awake?"
Will smiled. He shifted, rolling over so that they were facing each other under the covers.
"I am awake, actually." He said, keeping his voice as low as he could.
Nico's eyes widened.
"Oh."
Will brought one hand to Nico's face, stroking his thumb against his cheekbone in a way he hoped would be soothing.
"I have to tell you something." Will whispered.
Nico's forehead creased every so slightly and Will felt his heartbeat quicken.
"… you do?"
"Yeah." whispered Will. "Close your eyes."
Nico hesitated, but followed Will's instructions.
Will grinned. He moved his hand away and leaned in to brush his lips against the skin under Nico's ear, right where Nico had been kissing him in secret.
He let the now familiar feeling in his chest expand and warm his entire body, then whispered, featherlight.
"I love you."
He pulled back just in time to see Nico's eyes snap open. He looked so wild and panicked that Will couldn't help but laugh.
Nico's mouth twisted in outrage.
"You were awake that night!" He cried, indignant.
Will blushed.
"I may have overheard you…" He admitted. "...on more than just one occasion, actually."
"Oh my gods" Nico looked mortified. He buried his face in hands. "Why didn't you say anything?!" He said, voice muffled through his fingers.
"I meant to, I really did!" Will managed to say, his voice still breathless with laughter and nerves. "But I kind of figured you weren't ready and then after a while I started to like it - and it became kind of like a routine..." Will trailed off.
He reached up to pull Nico's hands away from his face so they could look at one another. His cheeks were getting sore from grinning, now.
"You're awfully sweet when you think I'm sleeping, you know." He teased.
"Gods, how long has this been going on?" Nico choked out.
Will bit his lip, sheepish. "Um… a couple of months."
"A couple of months?" Nico sounded slightly strangled.
"Maybe six weeks? Since February!" Will amended hastily. "And I'm sorry! I really thought you'd say it during the day sometime, but you never did!"
"I thought maybe you wouldn't say it back!"
Will scoffed at that.
"No, you didn't!"
"I did!" Nico said, scowling now. "I was really worried!"
"No you weren't." Will rolled his eyes.
"I was." Nico insisted.
"You were not." Will smirked. "Everyone in this whole damn camp knows I'm in love with you. It's no secret."
"Well I never knew for sure." Nico said stubbornly.
"No?" Will teased. "What had you unsure? Was it me introducing you to my mother? Or was it the way I drive Kayla and Austin crazy on a daily basis because I talk about you constantly? Or maybe it's how every time I see you I have to literally hold back all my powers so I don't start glowing like an idiot. Or the fact that I hate spending nights in my cabin now because I miss you, even though we spend basically all day every day hanging out. Or maybe it's-
"Oh my god, shut up." Nico groaned.
He buried his face in Will's chest and Will laughed.
"I hate you." Nico said into his shirt.
"No you don't" Will said, smugly. "You love me."
Nico looked up at him with that scowl that Will loved so much. His lips did Will's favourite thing, twitching up reluctantly.
"I do." he admitted.
Will beamed and swooped down to kiss him properly. Nico smiled against his lips, and Will felt that incredible feeling ballooning in his chest again. Nico pressed forward to deepen the kiss and the feeling grew and grew until Will was suddenly desperate to tell him again, properly this time.
He pulled back and looked Nico dead in the eye.
"I love you so much." He breathed.
Nico bit his lip. He was nervous. Unsure, as always, even after Will's teasing.
"You do?" He breathed.
"Nico, I've loved you for so long. I love you more than anything."
Will's voice was quiet and earnest, trying to express something too big for the words he was speaking.
Nico smiled.
-
From then on, they followed a new routine:
Nico reached over. He kissed the spot under Will's ear.
He said, "I love you, Will."
And Will smiled into the darkness and whispered back "I love you too."
49 notes · View notes
perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago
Text
the story of us
this was requested by @fantasylover16. I genuinely had so much fun with this thank you! I hope you enjoy. Also I said nb jack frost rights and I meant it.
masterlist; my links
Tumblr media
This is a story about two people.
One died three hundred years ago and has been alive since then. They have white hair, whiter than the stars, than burning light, than heaven itself. They have blue eyes that remind you of cracked ice in melting winter. They have ivory skin, some say like porcelain, it's more like liquid opal.
The other is twenty two years old. He has black hair, like jet fuel, and midnight. He has green eyes that hold oceans lost to time, that hold memories. He has brown skin that reminds you of cool forest floors and water glistened rock.
This is a story about who they are.
"Percy!" His roommate shouts from the kitchen. "Get your butt down here and tell me if the blue skirt goes better with these glasses!"
He laughs as he pulls a sweater over his heads and grabs his phone, slipping it into his back pocket. He feels the press of his pen as he pats himself down to make sure he has everything and when he is satisfied he bolts down the passage and stops short of the kitchen where Hazel Levesque is parading in front of their grand mirror on the opposing wall. She is decked out in black platform ankle boots, white fishnets that draw out the colour of her skin, slightly dark than his, a bright blue skater skirt and a soft pastel blue crew-neck not unlike his own.
"You Hazel Levesque," He grins bright and unrestrained, "Are a vision."
"Yes," She mutters still swopping between two pairs of clear-framed glasses and scrunching her nose, "But is it enough to bring my crush to their knees?"
"If Reyna doesn't bow down to you I think we can assume she's in desperate need of glasses."
"Well then maybe I should take both pairs and offer her one." She muses, pulling at her afro distractedly.
He snorts, turning to the counter and grabbing a bowl and whatever cereal he can reach first.
"Well," Hazel turns to him, he can see the smile she's trying so hard to hide, "Shall we be off then?"
He blinks at her, blinks again, points an unsure finger at his chest.
"Oh you don't expect me to brave Reyna on my own do you? Besides we're matching today it'd be quite ridiculous if we went out separately."
"But—" He looks to his bowl, as barren as the desert, "But my cereal?"
"I'll buy you breakfast on the way!" She waves the concern off, grabbing his hand and pulling them both out the door.
Despite their height difference, she makes it look far less like he's letting her pull him and far more like she has the strength to straight up carry him across the country.
"Hazel," He giggles, "Slow down."
"I can't Percy," She shakes her head vigorously, practically running through the park next to their building and into the bustling streets beyond. "If I don't do this now I'll lose all my courage and spend eternity in self-damned misery." Her brown eyes, turning honeyed as they catch the sun through the round glasses framing her face, flash bright and bold.
He stops them, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop the laughter shaking his body." You have never been a coward Hazel Levesque. No matter the day, time or outfit you have always been brave enough to stand up and do what's needed. And telling Reyna you have a crush on her is just another battle you absolutely can win." He pulls them apart, setting a steady green gaze on her excited one. "Now let's get some coffee, and a mint tea for you because you're hyper enough as it is, and then we'll go find the love of your life and I can finally show you the google-doc I have for your wedding."
She strangles his ribs in another hug and then takes a deep breath as she steps away. "What would I do without you Percy Jackson?"
"Let's never find out," He smiles, slinging an arm over her shoulder and directing them towards the Chaos House.
As per its namesake, walking into the café is like being lost in a crowd of sleep-deprived, adhd kids all connected to caffeine IVs. In short: it's chaos. Its their favourite place on earth.
Being hit with a wall of noise after the quiet of awakening nature feels like being sucker punched directly in your ear canal. Percy cannot help but grin as he takes in the racing patrons and the sound of coffee beans being ground and the smell of cinnamon and honey and endless activity.
They immediately spot a group of their friends and bolt for the booth they're all squished into.
"Reyna isn't here." Hazels voice is pitched with panic, "Oh gods what if she's sick today? What if she fell in a ditch on her jog this morning?" She stops right in the middle of the café, brown eyes wide. "What if she knew I was trying to do this and decided to stay home today to avoid seeing me?"
He grabs her arms already shaking his head. "My darling, I need you to take a deep breath. You are spiraling."
Wildness is still tracing her expression but he feels her shoulders rise and fall as she gulps air.
"Okay," He says gently, "Now we're gonna go to our table, have a good time with our friends and if and when Reyna shows up you're going to tell her how you feel and I'll meet you back at home so you can let me know when the wedding is."
She smacks his shoulder gently, nervous giggles escaping her. "Alright fine. I hate when you get reasonable. It's very disconcerting."
"Good thing it's rare," His lips twitch, and they finally start towards their friends.
A loud chorus of hellos and how are you’s ring around his head as they get nearer and he feels right at home amongst it all.
"What's up losers?" He flops down next to Jason, pressing a shoulder into the blondes side in a hug.
Annabeth sits next to the blonde, squished between him and Piper, a leg over Jason's thigh and her hand intertwined with Piper's. Frank is on the opposite side, a casual arm slung over Leo's shoulder. Hazel squeezes in besides Leo and sighs dramatically.
"What's wrong Levesque?" Piper frowns, reaching over to clasp the girl's hand.
"She's feeling put out because she had something very important to do today and her plans are being delayed because a certain someone isn't here."
And just as their friends start reassuring and ribbing her in equal parts Percy's phone rings. With a frown he pulls it from his pocket, as he gets up and waves to say he'll be back in a minute.
"Hello, this is Percy Jackson."
He's not paying attention to his surroundings as he listens to the person on the line so when his shoulder slams into somebody he almost topples to the ground. When he turns around to say sorry there is nobody there; his frown only deepens but then the voice on the phone is pulling his attention and he makes his way outside.
This is story about they meet.
The conversation is a whirl of information about his upcoming course and what his supervisor needs from him. By the time he ends the call and tucks the phone back in his pocket his whole body feels like it's taken on the sky all over again. He has the urge to check if another grey streak has graced his hair. Instead he leans against the wall, ignoring the way his clothes catch against its roughness. He can feel the cold seeping through the cracks in the brick and into the threads of his sweatshirt.
He looks down, pulling his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep the warmth in but as he takes his arms away from the wall he sees the frost outline of his fingers. A clear, already melting handprint marking the brick like a graffiti tag. He steps back, away from the wall, to find his whole body outlined. It reminds him eerily of the chalk markings they do at murder investigations. He's not entirely sure this isn't prophetic.
The frost, little beads of ice skittered in shape, is melting at a rapid rate but the colour catches Percy's eye. It's not the usual dulled, muddy ice that coats his windows in the morning and sits atop the grass each night. It is blue, bright and pure, and looks... happy?
He's definitely going insane. The lack of coffee is getting to his brain and he has officially going mad. He should go inside and get warm and sit with his friends and have 3 espresso shots in a row.
But the phone call is still rattling his nerves and he can't bare to face the café without all his wits about him. So he studies the melted frost outline, curiosity moving him forward to trace it with his fingers. He doesn't expect to feel cold like winter mornings and snowball fights and sleigh rides coursing through his bloodstream. It's shocks him right into a new state of being. It reminds him of a poem his mother used to say at the beginning of each winter. The poem was long enough that he was always asleep by the end of the last verse but he recalls the first part clearly now
Jack Frost was in the garden;
I saw him there at dawn;
He was dancing round the bushes
And prancing on the lawn.
He had a cloak of silver,
A hat all shimm'ring white,
A wand of glittering star-dust,
And shoes of sunbeam light.
The thought is so ridiculous Percy has to laugh. It bursts out of him unexpectedly but once he starts he cannot stop. It feels like the world has turned on its side but he's still walking upright. Everything is slightly dizzying but strangely amusing from this angle. He laughs harder, ribs aching, cheeks stiff, and eyes bright. He's sure people are staring at him like he's mad but he cannot stop. Until he stumbles over the pavement and is falling to the inevitable crunch of his facial bones.
It happens almost in slow motion. He sees the ground coming towards him, bubbling up like it's going to swallow him whole. He stared it down, refusing to close his eyes, as if challenging it to hurt him, to take him as he goes. But then hands, freezing cold even through his layers of clothing, wrap around his waist and he is being hauled up in a rush of wind and dizzying speed. He bumps into a hard chest and feels as if he's stepped into a freezer.
"Hey," A voice low and playful crackles through him, "You okay?"
He turns around slowly, and is not at all prepared for the site he is greeted with. There is so much all at once, startling and glowing and fracturing. His eyes catch an warm icy gaze, blizzard white hair, pale skin, cold-kissed lips, hands running with blue veins and silver rings.
"You okay?" The stranger repeats, looking at him with concern.
He honestly doesn't know if he has the ability to talk. His mouth opens, his throat bobs, but words are lost cargo.
"Can you hear me?" The stranger asks, accompanying the question with sign language.
Percy responds automatically, raising a fist and moving it back and forth; his head accompanies the action but still no words come out.
They smile at him, and start signing another question. He doesn't bother to stop them, tell them they aren't deaf, he can hear, he just can't talk. He's speechless.
Are you okay? They sign.
He nods, and the words stuck in his throat finally tumble out. "Yes, yes," It is croaky with overwhelming emotion, "Thank you for catching me. I’m sorry I uh—" He doesn't have any respectable excuse for being mute for the entire first half of their interaction. He is just completely struck by everything the stranger is.
"Ah so you can hear me," The stranger laughs. He decides the sound is what makes stars. "Well I'm glad you're okay. I'm Jack."
Percy snorts. This cannot be real. Ice, him thinking about Jack Frost, and suddenly his saviour's name is jack? What has the universe been doing with its time to plan this?
“I'm Percy," He stares at them curiously studying the snowflakes that seem to cling to their floppy white hair despite the snow season being weeks away, and the blue eyes that hurtle him to the Abraham lake in Canada. A holiday his family had taken a mere year ago and one of the most beautiful places he's ever seen.
His demigod senses are peeking out their window, as curious as he is. The action puts him on high alert. His instincts are usually only alerted when he's in danger or............. in love.
"What are you?" He cannot stop the question. His mouth has a self-controlled function and no way to override it.
Jack raises their brow, "What are you, Percy?" His name sounds like luxury rolling off the stranger's tongue.
But the question throws him off guard and before he has time to drool over them again he is pulling his pen out and twirling it between his fingers anxiously. "Are you here to kill me?"
That barks a laugh from Jack, who looks so entirely amused he can't help but wonder if he can frame the moment to keep with him forever; a brow quirked, a slight dimple on their right cheek as their smile grows, and bunched freckles as their nose scrunches slightly.
"Get a lot of assassination attempts do you?"
“You have no idea," He feels his eyes roll in annoyance, an automatic reaction after all these years.
"No Percy," Jack says softly. It brushes across his skin like cool paint and snowy pine leaves. "I am here because the moon told me to be."
"The moon?" He sputters, "What do you mean the moon?"
"I mean exactly that. I talk to the moon and it answers."
He can feel his legs grow weak. "The moon— the moon— the....... moon," He mutters, staring at Jack.
They are silent as he attempts to compartmentalize his thoughts. "You know what?" He finally speaks, "That's not the weirdest thing I've ever heard. The children of Demeter talk to grain so this isn't that far out of reach."
Jack just looks at him with a patient, gentle smile on their face.
"So what are you? A child of Selene?"
"I am not a demigod." They shake their head. "I was chosen by the moon three hundred years ago. I am the spirit of winter."
The silence stretches between them like taffy. He isn't sure he's heard this right.
"You're—" He cannot even bring himself to say it.
"Yes, I'm Jack Frost."
Percy's legs give our from under him. Jack is not quick enough to catch him but he lands on a pillow of snow right before he bruises his knees. "You're Jack Frost?"
"Yes. And you are Percy Jackson."
"How—how do you know?"
"I've been alive for a very long time. I know a lot of people."
He just hums, trying to wrap his head sound another layer of myth and fable that makes up the fabric of the world.
"Why are you here?" He finally gutters out. "I mean I know the moon told you to come but why?"
"I uh have a theory but I need to ask something of you in order to know if I'm right."
He frowns, staring up at the stranger. No not stranger. Can you even call someone who's been around for centuries a stranger? What are they a stranger to? They have seen and heard and learnt and loved more than he ever has or ever will. It's more like he is the stranger. "What do you need me to do?"
"I just need you to summon water for me."
A thousand questions sit like caught snowflakes on his tongue but he let's them melt instead of spilling them into the world. Instead he gets up and concentrates on all the water sources surrounding them.
A reservoir one hundred miles away, fire hydrants near bursting with unused pressure, a small pond in a small park about five miles south, and of course the ocean in front of them, no more than fifty miles within reach.
"How much do you need?"
"Give me fifty liters."
He closes his eyes and imagines the pond, the water rippling within it. He imagines holding it in his palm as he would a basketball ball. When he feels a cool sensation wash over his skin he opens his eyes once more and sees a swirling blob of water surrounding his hand, dancing to the beat of his pulse.
"Is this enough?"
"Plenty," They smile and then their hands are reaching out and as if the water knows they're calling to it, it bounces over in little bubbles. As it touches their fingers a ray of light bursts from the contact and it turns to ice. Jack sucks in a breath, watching in amazement as the water freezes and hits the ground in a flurry of snow.
"What?" Percy cannot hold in his curiosity any longer. "What is it?"
"The moon was right." They look at him, eyes sparkling with something more than awe or curiosity.
"About?" He prompts.
"We're soulmates."
This is a story about their destinies.
"We're what?" Percy whispers. He has never gotten loud when he was surprised or angry or sad. He has always been soft.
"I usually need my staff to solidify water but if I use elements touched by my soulmate I can do it without aid."
"This is ridiculous!" He sputters. There is absolutely no way this is real. Seriously? Soulmates? He would laugh if he wasn't so outraged.
"You don't believe in soulmates?"
"It doesn't matter what I believe in!" He growls, "This whole ordeal is completely insane."
"What would it take to convince you Percy Jackson?" Jack just smiles, it is shining with happiness like it hadn't before.
"I have no idea because I have never heard of or encountered a soulmate." He hisses.
"Do you know why you can see me?"
He shakes his head, thoughts swirling faster than the hurricanes his further looses.
"Because you believe in me."
"I thought you had control over who sees you and who doesn't?" He raises a brow.
"Only with children. I can choose to show myself whether they believe or not. I have the ability since enough of them do believe." They say. "But adults are different. If they don't believe I cannot make myself appear to them. I am simply a ghost of their childhood past."
"I don't understand." Percy cannot wrap his mind around this. "How do you know you can only make ice out of whatever water I touch?"
Jack looks around for a brief moment before catching sight of something behind them. In a split second they are there and then they're back.
"Watch," He pours the water from the bottom he'd nabbed over his hand. It falls to the floor as liquid as it had started out.
"That doesn't prove anything, how do I know you're not just making sure you don't turn it to ice?"
"I cannot touch anything without freezing it, especially water." They worry at their bottom lip with their teeth, thoughts flying across their face. "It's like your friend Leo." They nod their head towards the café where Percy can still see his friends snuggled into the booth. "He doesn't necessarily turn everything he touches to ashes but he will always leave a warm imprint no matter how or what he has touched."
"How do you know that?" He gapes.
"Immortality gives you a lot of time to know the world." They shrug. "Now do you believe me?"
"I don't know." He answers truthfully. "I mean if we are soulmates..." He tries to form the question into some semblance of sense and order. "Does that mean I'm tied to you? That we have to like I don't know get married and spend eternity together?"
"No," Jack says gently, "No you can deny this bond if that is how you feel. It does not mean anything except that the universe put our souls in the same constellation. We are free to pick and choose who we love."
“And how will it work if we do decide to get together?” He frowns, “I will age but you will always stay the same.”
They look at him, head tilted, ice eyes bright. “But you know that’s not true.”
Everything in him barrels forward like a tidal wave. It cannot be. No-one knows. Not even his mother. “What isn’t true?” He will play this carefully, like the strings of a harp. He will not let his life crash through the ground.
“Why are you hiding it?”
“I’m not hiding anything.” He is adamant in his stance. He will not bow.
“You are denying the life you chose.” Jack considers him. “Why?”
“I’m not denying anything.” He huffs, “I’m just taking it slow.”
A snort bursts of them, arrogant and amused. “You are taking becoming a God slow?”
“I want to live with my friends before they figure it out!” He cries, all the fear and terror and worry burning through him.
Jack moves closer, presses a cold hand to his shoulder. “It is okay to be scared and angry and worried but do not forget that you are worthy of the title and you should wear it like a crown, not a burden.”
“There is always some burden in this much power.” He is bitter. He is right.
“Come,” Jack pulls them together, “Go meet your friends.” The hug is so cold but comforts him to the bone. “And when you are ready to make a decision, just whisper my name and i will answer, no matter where i am, or how far apart we are.”
He studies the person before him, beautiful and strange in an inviting sort of way, like no matter how much he learns about them he'll always want to know more. "Well you are very pretty."
They laugh, and the sound lights up the ocean inside him. "Thank you."
“Live Percy Jackson.” Jack Frost whispers.
And then Percy is standing outside a café, an icy wind dancing between his fingertips, and the impression of a freezing hug still clinging to his clothes. He realizes he feels happy. He feels safe.
This is a story about their love.
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[image id: a poem by John P Smeeton titled "Jack Frost in the Garden" the poem reads:
Jack Frost was in the garden;// I saw him there at dawn;// He was dancing round the bushes// And prancing on the lawn.// He had a cloak of silver,// A hat all shimm'ring white,// A wand of glittering star-dust,// And shoes of sunbeam light.
Jack Frost was in the garden,// When I went out to play// He nipped my toes and fingers// And quickly ran away.// I chased him round the wood-shed,// But, oh! I'm sad to say// That though I chased him everywhere// He simply wouldn't stay.
Jack Frost was in the garden:// But now I'd like to know// Where I can find him hiding;// I've hunted high and low —// I've lost his cloak of silver,// His hat all shimm'ring white,// His wand of glittering star-dust,// His shoes of sunbeam light"
the background is a light blue and white marble. end id]
Tags: @fantasylover16 @queen-of-demons-and-hell @nishlicious-01​ @leyontheway @caffeinated-croissant
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tmngoose · 4 years ago
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Nice Words: a Turtle Tots Drabble
Based on my headcanon. I’m sure there’s some errors, but w/e. It’s almost 3am :A!  1,632 word count. G-Rated. Tags include: sibling squabbles, sad feelings, happy endings, and hurt/comfort? Read it under the cut! (Once I get my Ao3 up and running it’s all over for y’all) :U
It was late in the afternoon when Splinter had finished making himself a cup of tea. As he placed Ol' Skelly back onto the stovetop, his ears pricked towards the kitchen's entrance, where he could distinctly hear the pitter-patter of feet tottering down the hallway, followed by a series of sharp whispers.  "Boys," Splinter addressed, "Didn't I tell you four that you could only have your snacks after you tidied up your bedrooms?" It wouldn't have been the first time his turtle-children attempted to sneak into the snack cabinet and reward themselves for a job half-done.  "U-Um, actually, it's just us three," Mikey answered meekly.   Splinter raised a brow, "Three?" He turned around and spotted Raph, Leo, and Mikey huddled together in the doorway, their expressions mixed. "Where's Purple?"  Raph pushed Leo forward, earning a scowl from his younger brother, "Leo and Donnie were fighting again, and then Donnie ran off somewhere!"  "Tattle-tale," Leo grumbled, folding his arms with a huff. Splinter sighed, "Blue? I thought we talked about using our nice words towards each other?" He knelt before Leo, who fidgeted under his father's attention.  "But I did!" Leo's passionate claim wavered. He guiltily stared down at his feet, "Well, I mean, I did at first. But he started it!" The slider's fire returned, only quelled by Splinter, who pressed a finger up to his mouth. "That's not important," Splinter said, "What's important now is finding your brother and setting things right."  "But, we looked everywhere for him!" Mikey whimpered, tears threatening to spill from his watery eyes.  Raph began counting off on his fingers, "We searched the bathroom, all of our bedrooms and the living room! I even looked inside your chair!"   "I still think he could've flushed himself down the toilet," Leo mumbled to himself, earning another look of disapproval from Splinter.  "Then, it sounds like you three have a lot of backtracking to do!" Splinter patted Mikey's shell and took a moment to dry the box turtle's tears with his sleeve. "But worry not, my sons, for I will help you."                                                                -x- What Splinter had promised was a half-truth. While his boys double-checked their bedrooms, Splinter took his cup of tea into the living room. He could keep an eye out for Donnie while also keeping an eye on his favorite TV show.      Splinter shook his head upon discovering the state of disarray the living room was left in from Raph, Leo, and Mikey’s frantic search for Donnie. He decided he'd make the boys sort out the rest of the living room after supper. Splinter fixed the cushions of his armchair, made himself comfortable, sipped his tea, and then twirled the remote control between his fingers. Splinter's thumb hovered over the power button. Just before he could click it, there came a strange sound from close-by. Sniffle...  It was a soft, sad sound that made Splinter's ears twitch. He listened carefully and heard nothing. He shrugged, pointed the remote at the projector screen, and- Sniff... sniffle...  - there it was again! If Splinter was right, the noise was coming from beneath him? He slid out of his seat and checked underneath the armchair.  "Purple?" Splinter blinked. "What are you doing under there?" Donnie turned away from Splinter, burrowing further into his hoodie until he eventually disappeared into his shell. He sniffled again, and Splinter frowned.  "Surely, you can't be comfy down there?" Splinter held out his hand. "Why not come out and join me? We can watch Scorpion Treadmill together!" Splinter only needed to wait a few more seconds before he felt Donnie's hand lightly take ahold of his own. Splinter's fingers curled around the tiny hand and carefully helped Donnie out from under the recliner.  Splinter kept his word. He plopped back down in his seat and placed Donnie on his lap, who was still tucked inside his shell. Splinter turned on the TV and sipped his tea once more, setting the cup and saucer down on Donnie's back.  By the time the first commercial break came on, Donnie finally spoke up from within his shell, "Leo said he wished Laceface was his brother instead of me."  Splinter looked down at Donnie and lowered the volume on the TV, "Laceface? Oh! You mean the football you boys are always breaking things with? Now, why would Blue say something like that?"   "Because he's a big meanie," Donnie murmured sourly. "Now, Purple. What did we say about using our nice words towards each other?"  "Well, he is!" Donnie's head popped out of his shell, his eyes puffy from crying. "Me 'n Mikey were playing Jupiter Jim when Leo and Raph crashed our game with their stupid Sports Ball game!"  "Uh-huh," Splinter nodded, sipping his tea.  "And then Leo's trick pass caused Raph to break our moon buggy!"   "You don't say?"   "So I told Leo he owed us a new moon buggy, but he said it wasn't his fault our moon buggy broke so easily cuz it's cardboard! So then I said to him that it was his fault because it was his dum-dum trick pass that caused Raph to break our moon buggy in the first place! And then Leo said his trick pass wasn't dumb, and that I was the dumb one!"  Donnie went on. Splinter could see where all this was going. Indeed, it was a messy situation, though thankfully, he knew of a way to fix it. When Donnie finished recounting his side of the story, the young turtle was just as hurt when he had first hid under Splinter's armchair. Donnie lifted his glasses out of the way so he could wipe his eyes and swallowed the sob caught in his throat.   "Who am I kidding?" Donnie's shoulders sagged with defeat. "They'd probably care more about Laceface than me." Splinter began rubbing Donnie's back, hoping to calm him down, "You know that's not true. Your brothers care very much about you, including Blue!"  "Nuh-uh," Donnie shook his head in disbelief.  "Yuh-huh," Splinter answered, "Why, surely you must've heard them tearing this room apart while they were looking for you?"  "Well, yeah..." "Did you know they're still looking for you?" Splinter continued, "Why, they've been so worried about you!" "R-Really?"  "Really," Splinter petted the top of Donnie's head.  "Even Leo?" "Only one way to find out," Splinter cleared his throat, "BOYS!"  Splinter's bellow echoed off the walls of the lair. Donnie could hear his siblings clumsily stumble over each other as they piled into the living room, though none of them dared to approach Splinter's armchair, and with good reason too: they still hadn't found Donnie.  "Yeah, Pops?" Raph asked hesitantly. "Have you boys found Purple yet?" Splinter winked down at Donnie and signaled for him to stay quiet. Donnie, unsure of what Splinter was scheming, obediently covered his mouth with both of his hands.   "Um, n-no, not yet," Mikey spoke up with a sad tremor in his throat.   "Oh, that's too bad," Splinter lamented, "I suppose I will have to find you a new brother, huh? Maybe that football you boys love so much?" He mused aloud.  "What?!" Raph gasped, "Replace Donnie?!"  "With Laceface?!" Leo sounded just as upset as Raph and Mikey, which surprised Donnie. "You can't do that!" Leo protested.  "Why not?" Splinter questioned. "Didn't you say you'd rather have Laceface as your brother anyway?"   "W-Well, yeah, but... b-but...," Leo grew quiet, and then burst out crying; the weight of his guilt finally crashing down on him. "I don't want a football for a brother!! I d-didn't mean it when I said that!  I want Donnie for a brother-," Leo's hiccuping stopped abruptly, "-wait a sec, how did you know I said that to Donnie?" "Because he told me," Splinter replied cheekily and held Donnie out over the side of his armchair for his brothers to see.   "Donnie!!" Leo, Raph, and Mikey ran towards the soft-shell and tackled him out of Splinter's hands. They smothered Donnie in a great big heap on the floor; one could barely spot the soft-shell within the mess of arms as his brothers nuzzled him.  At first, Donnie was uncomfortable. The hug was suffocating and almost unbearable until he noticed how happy and relieved his brothers were to have found him: including Leo.   "I'm sorry, Donnie," apologized Leo, "I never meant any of it, honest!"  "And I'm sorry too," Donnie gritted out, "B-but maybe you guys could st-stop squeezing me? M-My oxygen levels..." He squeaked helplessly. Splinter smiled, satisfied with their touching reunion, "I hope you all learned a valuable lesson today."   "We sure did!" Raph beamed, "Donnie's the best at hide-and-seek!"  "What? No!" Splinter shook his head, "Well, maybe, but that's not it! Sometimes, when we're angry, we say things to each other that we do not mean. That is why it is super-duper important to always use our nice words towards each other!"   To the four turtle tots, their father spoke words of wisdom. Their eyes glistened in awe and respect.  "Now then!" Splinter's tender fatherly disposition suddenly turned agitated and firm, "Why were you boys playing Jupiter Jim and Sports Ball in the first place?! Didn't I tell you to clean your rooms before my shows started?!"  The turtle brothers yelped and scrambled out of the living room before Splinter could punish any of them.  "Quick, Donnie!" Raph cried out, "Tell us your secret ways of hide-and-seek!" He held Donnie high above his head, leading the gang to his bedroom. "Yeah!" Leo agreed, "Dad can't punish us if he can't find us!"  The turtle tots giggled and shrieked as they carried on their mischief elsewhere within the lair. Splinter shook his head. He reached for his tea and found that the last few sips had gone cold. Though that hardly mattered, for the laughter of his children warmed him all the same. 
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shrooms3000 · 3 years ago
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Her intuition is always right
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Description: Luna and readers walk through the forbidden forest- Linny appreciation
Warning: Gemini slander
Luna and I meet in the first-floor hall at around noon. We had planned our weekly get-together for this Sunday choosing to skip out potions homework for a wander through the forest. We knew it was never allowed but that had never stopped us before. Heck, we've been hundreds of times over our five years at Hogwarts. Oftentimes spending hours playing with the thestrals or scavenging for crystals along the forest floor.
The halls are peaceful as we make our way to the hidden passage near the kitchens. The route now committed firmly to memory. “I was thinking we go west today don’t you think?” she says barely paying me mind as she runs her pale hand over the stone walls of the corridor. "I agree it feels right.” she nods her head, white strands of hair falling over the eyes that never seem to focus. “My intuition was saying the very same thing.”
The conversation drifted from there to my latest boy troubles and on to her last date with Ginny being interrupted by the ‘chosen one’. God, he doesn’t know when to quit. Can't he see Ginny doesn’t want him anymore. Definitely not after what he did. Besides even if he didn’t sleep with that Ravenclaw girl, Ginny and Luna were practically made for one another.
Crossing the lawn, we turn and head west towards the far side of the forest hoping that this way will lead us to something new. “I can’t believe Snape did that. That’s right out of line that is. ” As we enter the forest Luna recounts our last potions lesson. As well as Snape's foul remarks on her ‘misbehavior.’ She decided not to use her scarmower flower in her potion but rather bring it back to life. “It seemed sad, and I could never kill it, burning up in a potion would be an awful way to go.” her smile fading even more as she remembered the names he shouted at her. ‘Daft girl’, ‘useful as a chocolate teapot’, ‘wise as the world is flat’, ‘the only use of your head is to keep the rain out of your neck’, and the worst and the most hurtful of all ‘please do explain how a scarmower flower would be useful alive miss Lunny Lovegood?’ she had been called this more times than I can count. She has never said anything, but I knew how much it stung her. Merlin Ginny shouted so loud at Snape. It nearly burst my eardrums. Of course, she is spending this weekend and every weekend for the next five months scrubbing out the cauldrons. But I was proud.
As we wander through the forest I spot a glen of wildflowers. “Oh! how luminous” Luna muses '' and I couldn't agree more. Running over as fast as we can without spraining an ankle on the loose stones, we each grab a handful of the blossoms on instinct. “What better way to refresh our moods than flower crowns?” she didn't respond but I saw the life flow back into her face. Twisting the blossoms around on another beginning out chain we continue to walk.
The subject changed from a less demure and downright malicious teacher to a far more interesting one. “Have you finished the zodiac charts professor Trelawney assigned?” I ask nearly stumbling over a log with curiosity at Luna and Ginny's compatibility. A faint blush crept over her cheeks as she twiddled with their wildflowers finishing the headpiece “yes we had. It seems an Aquarius and Leo relationship will be one of great loyalty” she mumbles out. A smile crossed her face and her cheeks deepen in color. Now finishing our headpieces and having donned them in a rather dramatic fashion I reply “well it makes sense her being a Gryffindor and all…. It appears Potter hasn't gotten the memo though” she puffs a breath'' Potter what a fowl boy! But enough about me and Ginny, what was your compatibility with kittler.” Merlin, Kittler another prime example of a foul boy.
“Barely a lick. he's a bloody Gemini! Merlin and his breath is worse than an oger.” both of us giggle in ugly and unflattering gasps. At the expense of Jamie knitter that is but oh well. our snorts come to a close as we both begin to hear the sounds of water rushing. The sounds grow louder as we press forward. The trees thin and we stumble into the clearing seeing the source of the sound.
Not more than fifty feet in front of us is the grandest sight I have ever beheld. A waterfall with raging water smashing over the proud cliff. The bluff extended off into the tree line on either side with the handsome falls dead in the middle. The water shut down fifteen feet against the rocks below. The batter water from the falls shot out into the shallow pool surrounding. The mist drifted over the water and cooled our hot skin and dampened our hair. Though the crystal waters pond whisps could be seen weaving through river stones and water mosses. The light caught the mist just so creating a rainbow so beautiful I couldn't even speak.
Luna broke our awed silence “glorious”. I could not find words to reply, she had said it all.
We laid out our robes and sat for the rest of the afternoon skipping stones across the pool. It was getting late but neither I nor Luna could manage to leave behind our glorious find. So, we stayed well until sunset. But fear of coming across a manticore is what finally peeled us from our spot. As we leave our waterfall, Luna turns to me quite abruptly, “Do you think I should ask Ginny to be my partner?” I feel like the answer to this is quite obvious but none the less I reply “Of course I've been trying to convince you for Ages. bloody soulmate you are!” blushing she tells me she'll do it here at the falls. Well, once the redhead gets out of detention that is.
A/N: my first post in a while and not my best. I’ve been caught up with shifting as of late and school has been hell but hopefully, I can start posting more again. This also probably has a zillion spelling and grammar errors but I’m hella dyslexic so ignore it lmao. I know this isn’t smut but we stan Linny soooooooooo
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welcometophu · 3 years ago
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The Meaning of Home, Chapter 3
The Meaning of Home Chapter 3
Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.
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“You could have mentioned.” Pawel fills a bowl with chili from the slow cooker, then adds a scoop of spiced chicken and cheese, and tops it with sour cream. He hands it to his dad and points to the table. “There’s salad, too.”
“More meat, Dad,” Conor says, handing him his bowl. “Beans are weird. They have a really strange texture.”
“They’re also good for you.” Pawel doesn’t skimp on his son’s bowl; he’s seen just how much his kid can pack away. “And you need to eat salad, too.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Conor mutters. He slides into one of the chairs at the tiny round table that sits between the kitchenette and living room. When all three of them sit down, there’s barely room to move. Pawel’s afraid he’s going to take a bite and end up elbowing his father in the nose.
Still, it’s good to have real food with them, and know that both of them are eating something healthy.
Pawel sits back a bit from the table so he doesn’t knock knees, and holds his own bowl in his hands. The chili isn’t as spicy as he usually makes it at home, but that’s probably better for his father’s stomach anyway.
“Could’ve mentioned what?” Dad asks.
He sounds so innocent.
“That the guy who takes in fosters and happens to work with you is Leo Papa. As in my ex-boyfriend Leo,�� Pawel says dryly. “We bumped into him and Emma and another one of his fosters—”
“Jennie,” Conor supplies.
“—At the grocery store,” Pawel finishes, as if Conor hadn’t interrupted. “And oh, funny thing.” He glares at Dad, who blinks back at him, calmly eating. “Turns out Leo’s married to Colt Harrison. My other high school ex.”
“Emma’s dads are the guys you dated in high school?” Conor asks. “They’re really cool. Why didn’t you keep dating them?”
“Leo graduated and left. Colt and I went to different schools. I met your mom.” There’s a lot more to each of those stories, but Pawel doesn’t want to get into the details right here and now. He’s not sure he wants to talk about the drama of his teen life with his son in general.
Conor already knows enough of the details, like the fact that he was born while Pawel was still in school.
“Colt’s really calmed down,” Dad muses. “He used to have a lot of attitude when he was a kid. I remember when you first started dating him, and he’d look down at our house. He thought everything should be served up on a silver platter. Being a dad’s taught him a lot more about reality than anything else did, I think.”
“Are you telling me he doesn’t drive a Porsche anymore?”
Dad barks out a low laugh. “Where would he put five kids in a Porsche? They’ve got practical cars. Although if they take in any more kids, they’ll need one of those big vans, or a miniature bus.”
“Emma wants Dad to find her parents, so she can go home,” Conor reminds them. “She says she’s not staying. I’ll be sad when she goes, though. And her house is fun. It’s kind of chaotic. I mean, Duke’s quiet—he doesn’t talk at all—but Matt’s always saying stuff, and he keeps changing into different animals. And Duke and Matt fight, even if Duke doesn’t yell. He still seems to get his point across, and then he chases Matt, and yeah, it gets messy. You met Jennie—she’s cool, for a little kid, but she’s always eating. Nevaeh’s really pretty. She’s learning how to drive.” 
Conor shovels food into his mouth, a spoonful between every sentence. His spoon clatters back into a mostly empty bowl, a few beans lingering in the bottom. “Can I go call Alan? We’re going to game tonight. I got my homework done while you were cooking.”
“Salad,” Dad reminds him, and Pawel’s thankful for the backup, even if Dad himself hasn’t taken any yet.
Conor puts just enough lettuce and vegetables into his bowl to satisfy the requirement, and finishes it quickly. He drops his spoon on the table. “Gonna go call Alan. Bye!”
The place is small enough that even though the door to the guest room bangs as it bounces closed, then open again, Pawel can still clearly hear Conor shouting a hello to Alan.
“How the hell do they have five kids?” Pawel can’t imagine trying to wrangle more than one.
“There are two of them. There’s a better adult to kid ratio, plus you know Leo’s family helps out.” Dad pulls the salad towards him, heaping his bowl full. “That’s what family does, and you know it. Ours is just smaller than most.”
Him, his dad, and Conor. Yeah. It’s a pretty small family.
Which reminds him, he should probably tell his dad about Chelsea.
Dad points his fork at him. “I’ll agree, though, I didn’t see it coming,” he continues. Pawel stays silent; Chelsea can wait if Dad’s going to tell him more about what the hell’s been going on while he was absent. “Leo and Colt were good together; have been since they first met. But when Leo came in and said he needed a few days off to go pick up a foster kid—almost four years ago, now—it was a hell of a surprise. Matt had a tough time of it, too. His parents gave him up, put him right into the foster system because he’d Emerged as Clan. If Lucy hadn’t gotten him out….” Dad trails off, shaking his head.
“Leo said something about Lucy and Rowan,” Pawel says slowly. “I have two students whose parents are in a triad, and two of those parents are Lucy and Rowan. I’ve spent time with their family in Vermont.”
“Likely the same,” Dad says. “Lucy’s a teacher, and she keeps an eye out for Talented kids who might slip through the cracks otherwise. Apparently she’s been doing it since before the Emergence; it’s just easier now. She’s got a network of teachers, and one of them knows Colt, and that’s how it all came together. Matt did so well with them that when Lucy found out about a thirteen-year-old girl who’d run away from her family with her baby sister, she brought them straight to Leo and Colt, too. Rowan’s a lawyer, and he’s the one who works to make sure the kids are safe, and aren’t going to end up back in bad places. Nevaeh and Jennie’s parents didn’t want a little girl who sparkled all the time, and they were a danger to her, so they were declared unfit.”
“Conor thinks they’ll adopt them. Since Jennie’s grown up with them.” Pawel’s still trying to assimilate it, putting “parents” into the same box as “ex-boyfriends” in his brain. He still sees them both as the awkward teenagers they used to be.
Colt would say he has never been awkward.
He might even be right.
“They’ve thought about it. I think Colt’s looked into it, but even with the parents out of the picture as they are, they’re still alive, so adoption becomes a tricky thing.” Dad picks up his empty bowl along with Conor’s and takes them over to the sink.
Pawel uses the freedom to stretch his legs under the small table. He’s barely eaten anything yet, so he starts working his way through his chili, letting his mind spin.
He should get in touch with Lucy and Rowan. They’ve talked before, more than once actually. Maybe it’d be good to let them know he’s aware of their efforts. That he knows Leo and Colt.
No, not like that. That makes it sound like he knows them better than he does. Until he ran into Leo in the store, he hadn’t seen him in more than a decade. It hasn’t been quite as long for Colt, but close enough.
Still. This sounds like something he should offer help with. Even if he can’t foster, he can help with Lucy’s ability to network down in Unity. He’s sure she could use that, and well, he owes her family for all the help they’ve given in the last year.
He scoops up the last mouthful of chili. That’s decided then. He’ll give them a call later. Or text them. Reach out, anyway.
“Bring me your bowl.” Dad waits until Pawel brings his dishes over before he adds quietly, “Never did figure out if you ended things on good or bad terms, but I know you moped about both of them enough to figure they weren’t easy breakups. They’re both doing well now. They’re good for each other. Leo’s a valuable part of my force, and Colt’s a voice to be reckoned with in the courtroom. They fight for Talented folks to be safe. So if you’re thinking of somehow getting in the middle of this….”
Dad’s voice trails off and he gives Pawel a look.
Pawel has no idea what Dad’s thinking. “Get in the middle of… no. What? I was just going to reach out and offer to be a liaison in Unity, if Lucy and Rowan don’t already have one. And thank them for all the help they’ve given us. And maybe talk to Colt and Leo about whether I can help Emma out. Since apparently people disappearing has become my specialty.”
Dad huffs and turns away. “Fine. Just don’t go making any trouble for them. They’re good folk.”
“I won’t. I’m just going to—” Pawel gestures at the couch, but that’s not really helpful for getting any distance or privacy. “Actually. Why don’t you go put your feet up. I’ll finish the clean up.”
“You cooked.” The protest is half-hearted.
“And I was home all day, so I can clean, too.” Maybe being home support is a good way to thank his dad for everything he’s done. It’s something Pawel can do, anyway.
The TV goes on loud enough that Pawel can hear it clearly over the running water. Pawel takes a moment to tap out a quick message to send to Lucy.
Heard you help find foster homes for Talented kids in need. My son’s met a few of the kids you placed in my home town. If you ever need a contact in Unity, I’d be happy to help.
He leaves his phone face up on the counter.
He’s up to his elbows in suds, scrubbing the inside of the slow cooker, when his phone buzzes. He glances over to see a response from Lucy.
I’ve actually got folks in Unity and Valiant, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk. I already know you’ve got a vested interest in keeping Talented kids safe, and a larger network means more help. Just like we’ve been telling you with our family in Burlington: lean on people when you need them.
Even people who barely know him are giving him advice. 
He lets the screen fade; he’ll reply later when his hands aren’t soaking wet. Instead he finishes filling up the small dishwasher and gets it started. As soon as the rumbling begins, Dad turns up the volume on the TV so he can hear over the rattling of the dishwasher.
It’s just too much noise for Pawel. He makes his way to the guest room, knocking on the half-open door before he nudges it wide enough to step inside. Conor waves a hand, and Pawel takes that as meaning close the door, so he does.
“What are you playing?” Pawel looks at the screen, but all he sees is Alan, who waves at him.
“We haven’t started playing yet.” Conor’s voice is too loud, his headphones still covering his ears. Pawel taps at them, and Conor removes them and switches the sound to the speakers. “We’ve just been talking. Alan was telling me about all the things happening at home. I really like my class and my teacher here, but I really miss home. Except for Marjorie. I don’t really miss her.”
“But you miss me,” Alan says, grinning. “Hi, Mister Szczek.” 
They’ve known each other long enough that Polish names, along with the random few words Conor knows and has shared, roll off Alan’s lips like he’s part of the family. Well, he and Conor are schoolyard married, so maybe he is part of the family.
“Hi, Alan. Actually, I’ve got a question for you both.” Pawel sits down on the bed next to Conor, leaning in so he’ll be on camera. “I picked up tickets for SongFest out in Buffalo this weekend. I was thinking you could join us if you boys want.”
“You got us tickets for SongFest? Do I get to see Rory and Thorne on stage? What about that girl? Trish? Is she doing music there, too? You changed your mind! You said I was too young for concerts.” Conor bounces on the bed enough that the laptop wobbles. Pawel reaches out to stabilize it as Alan laughs.
“You’re too young for clubs,” Pawel says. “And this is going to be a long day, out in the hot sun, assuming it doesn’t rain on Saturday. But I figured we could give it a try, and since it’s outside, the music won’t be quite as bad on your ears. You already don’t listen to half of what I say.”
“Mom says my dad and me have selective hearing,” Alan volunteers. 
“She’s not wrong. Sometimes it’s better to just not listen. Can’t get in trouble if you don’t hear it,” Conor agrees. His gaze slides sideways, as if he forgot Pawel is sitting there. “Soooooooo,” he draws the word out before his gaze locks back on Alan on the screen. “Can you go with us?”
“We’d be driving out on Friday,” Pawel clarifies. “The actual festival is in Buffalo on Saturday, and it goes late. We’d have a hotel for both nights, and come back on Sunday.”
The smile falls away as Alan shakes his head. “I can’t this weekend. It’s my cousin’s birthday next week, and we’re doing a big family thing this weekend in Boston. She’s my aunt’s miracle baby, and we always get the whole family together to celebrate her. She’s three this year. She’s my oldest aunt and my youngest cousin. I’m youngest, before her.”
Conor ducks his head. “Oh.” He pulls his blanket onto his lap, picking at the fuzz on it.
“We’ll have to find a different weekend for Alan to come out and visit then,” Pawel says firmly. The boys have been apart for two months, and that’s a long time in a nine-year-old’s life. “Then you can introduce Alan to Emma.”
“We’ve met.” Alan sounds cheerful about that. “She’s pretty cool. She and Conor call me sometimes. I think she should come live with you guys when you come home.”
Conor makes a low scoffing noise. “She’s not like a stray dog. We can’t just keep her. She’s already got foster dads, and besides, my dad is going to find her parents. Then she’ll have to go wherever her home really is. Which will suck, because I really like hanging out with her, but it’ll make her happy, so that’s cool.”
“Yeah, that’s really cool you’re going to do that, Mister Szczek,” Alan echoes.
It’s very cool, right up until the moment Pawel thinks about how that means figuring out a plan, and then interacting with Leo and Colt to enact that plan.
“I’ll do my best.” Pawel touches Conor’s shoulder. “Why don’t you guys do your game for a bit. It’s a school night, so you still need to get to bed.”
Conor shakes his head, as if he can shake off the blues. Maybe it works, because he’s smiling when he reaches for his laptop. “Okay, Alan. Let’s do this.”
Pawel is clearly dismissed.
He exits the room, leaving the door propped just enough that he can hear the rumble of Conor talking as he puts his headphones back on, and nothing else. Dad’s half-asleep on the couch, watching a show through his eyelids, so Pawel sinks down there and joins him. As Dad snores softly, Pawel grabs the remote and stops the show. Dad can get back to it later, and he won’t notice Pawel channel surfing while he snoozes.
Time passes in a haze of snippets of comedy and drama. Pawel can’t seem to find anything he really wants to watch, and Dad has no opinions as he naps. Pawel keeps one eye on the time, and he’s just about to call out when he hears Conor yell, “Got to go! Bye!” The sound of the laptop closing is clear enough to make Pawel wince, but he knows that machine has put up with a lot from his son already.
Conor emerges a few minutes later, already in his pajamas. He heads straight for the bathroom, and Pawel can hear the water running as he brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed. By the time Conor makes it into the living room, the noise has disturbed Dad, who sits upright and yawns.
“Bed,” Pawel says firmly, not entirely certain which one of them he’s talking to. Probably both.
“Goodnight son.” Dad squeezes Pawel’s shoulder as he stands. He reels Conor in for a long hug on his way by, then disappears into his own room.
Conor stands there, hands clasped behind his back, his lower lip drawn in between his teeth.
“You want something,” Pawel says.
“Since Alan can’t go and you said you already bought a ticket, can we bring Emma with us to the festival this weekend?” Conor blurts it all out in a rush, biting his lip again when he’s done. “I know you don’t know her really well yet, but she’s nice and we won’t be trouble and it would really be a lot of fun.”
If Pawel takes Emma all the way to Buffalo, he can’t see her foster parents letting her go alone.
Pawel slides his palm over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hears the soft, defeated exhale from Conor.
“Okay,” Conor says softly. “I get it.”
“That’s not—” Pawel hesitates, peeking between his fingers at where his son stands there, waiting for an answer. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to her fathers. Foster fathers.” Even without Emma there to correct him, he corrects himself. He understands the importance of terminology. Sometimes you have to make sure you say things the right way. Words have power, even when you’re nine.
Words might even have more power over children. That’s why it’s important to acknowledge the ones they want to use.
Conor darts across the room, plowing into where Pawel is still on the couch for a flying, tackling hug. “Thanks, Dad. I love you. Can I tell Emma you’re going to ask? Should it be a surprise? When are you going to ask?”
So many questions.
So many complications to this one simple request.
Pawel wraps his arms around his son, choosing to just hold on for the moment. He pats Conor on the back, and Conor slowly disengages from the hug, bouncing on his toes as soon as he’s upright.
“I’ll talk to Leo and Colt,” Pawel promises. “But you need to give me time.”
“It’s already Tuesday,” Conor whines. “You said we’re going on Friday. That’s not a lot of time. Wait, what about school? Are you taking me out of school?”
“That’s one of the things I’ll need to talk to Leo and Colt about.” One thing among several. And this is coming out of the blue, after all these years of silence. Because of course Pawel’s son has managed to dump him into chaos. It’s what the Szczeks do.
“For now,” Pawel adds, “go to bed. Let me take care of the adult things, okay?”
“Okay. G’night, Dad!” Conor slams the door to his room behind him.
Pawel’s left on the couch—his bed for the summer—alone with his thoughts. 
So. They’re taking Emma to the festival. He promised. If her foster fathers allow her to go.
There are so many ways in which this could get awkward.
It’s up to Pawel to take the first step, so he opens his phone and brings up a text to Leo’s number.
Okay. Dinner. When?
He presses send. There, that’s started. It’s in the hands of his exes now.
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hungryflowers · 4 years ago
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Sensing Lamentation
Title: Sensing Lamentation
Rating: General Audience
Fandom/Continuity: Balan Wonderworld
Character Relationship(s): Leo Craig/Balan
Character(s): Leo, Balan, Past Character (Unnamed), Lance (Only Mentioned)
A/N: I’ve been in a funk for quite awhile, so I decided to do this to hopefully make me feel better. 2020 was a rough year and these last few days have torn out my soul. I want to write this as a small means of healing myself. Also, I’m a slight out of practice with my writing craft, so if any errors, I apologize.
Other: This isn’t a ship! Regardless of what the ‘Character Relationship’ part says, keep in mind that Leo is fifteen years old and Balan is potentially eldritch aged. He’s seen all sides of humanity, so he gets it. He’s not attracted to the boy, nor will I write him to be. Just putting that out there before y’all get to thinking that he a ‘cradle robber’ who lures in heartbroken kids.
He was more than content with sitting in the whist, luminescent room. Parchment on one end, tar-like ink on the other, the Maestro had made a day for himself to just... create. A tune swirled in his mind, the musings of the melody playing on repeat as he etched time out of his day to put it to paper. The endeavor was not a failed one, yet it hardly yielded the desired results. Feather to temple, Balan stretched his elongated back. Sunlight had eluded him in the short time he sat. Eyes glanced for the nearest time telling device in the room; eight forty-five. He had been at the same table, staying finicky over the same paper for the same tune for nearly four hours. Not a new reaction, yet he was normally more productive. Sighing, he adjusted his wide-brimmed top hat as he moved around to restock, stock, or keep tabs on anything necessary for anymore acts. 
The little tims peeped and scuttle along, following the maestro as if he’d been a pied piper. Playful eyes shimmered with glee as he picked up the few that straddled his lanky legs. Placing them on a crate, he kept at his inventory. They still peeped and chimed, more frequent and annoyed. 
“None of that...” A quiescent quip from the maestro had them calmed. It seemed that have to find another opportunity to have Balan’s attention. 
In the after math of busying himself with caring for little things, the maestro had failed to notice, or hear the subtle steps of a child passing by. The shock of hearing another breathing individual was enough to make him pause. Standing to his full height Balan went around looking for the soul whom had trespassed without him acknowledgement. He was quite forthcoming with introductions or having someone speaking to him before departing. It was in good manner to appear respectful to those around you. 
The steps he had neglected to hear before ventured up the stairs to the next floor. Which was quite odd, as only guests that Balan himself invited, or staff that convened there, were allowed upstairs. He had to rectify this immediately. Snooping was not tolerated under the maestro’s gaze. He kept his eyes on a sleeping chamber that was lit behind the sturdy mahogany door as he crept up the spiral staircase. On a normal day, he’d just float up and push open the door, however he still had enough respect to announce his presence before coming in. 
Standing in front of the door, his hand went to jiggle the handle, only to stop at the softest sounds of what he knew as sorrow. Eyes widened, his hand came off the knob as if he had been burned by it. There was a little one... softly sobbing in the chambers. He fought against an unusual impulse to shove himself inside, yet the longer he listened, the harder it became to ignore. He reminded himself to adhere to the rules and guidelines he had made for himself and Lance: do not interfere unless the justification is absolute. For some unspoken reason he felt the need to disregard his rule this only time. And with that impactful instinct hammering into him, he gave in. 
He knocked loud enough for the little soul to hear yet did not speak, waiting for someone to answer or reply. There was one solid minute without noise, the little one seeming to buck up after hearing the knock. When Balan knocked again, he earned a response, “Who is it? What do you want?”
Balan recognized the young man’s voice instantly. A shadow of sadness glazing his stare as he leant on the door a bit. What was making Leo so upset? Who could have caused such an unrest in the boy’s spirit?
“Leo... It’s Balan. May I come in?” He slid to his knees, in case the boy would open for him. After a moment, the heavy door slowly crept open, for Balan to view the young visitor’s face; that now appears wet from tears. 
Instead of asking too many questions, Balan just slid a bit closer to Leo, arms stretched enough to reach but not touch. A simple gesture to show he’d be there for him. 
Leo glanced at the gesture, measuring it to see what he’d want to do. His shoeless feet pawed the hardwood as he contemplated what he would do. He thought it would be best for the maestro to disregard the idea of comforting him. He’d remain a soldier fighting a battle on his own. Yet at the same time, he didn’t want that. And that juggle of care and carelessness caused more tears to well in his eyes before he opened his mouth. He barely caught a sniffle before he felt his feet leaving the floor. Blue eyes scanned his surroundings before he gauged that he was in Balan’s arms, embrace pulling him softly to his chest. Agony gripped the young boy as he sobbed into the maestro’s shoulder, tiny hands gripping him as if he’d disappear. 
Balan remained on his knees as the boy broke down, sun-yellow eyes closing as he allowed him the ability to let go. To let it hurt... if only for a while. The boy continued to sob as he motioned to stand, going into the chambers as his hands patted Leo’s back, slowing going into his hair to bring him closer. That hymn, the song Balan could not put to sheet, or find the right words to, came back. Only this time, the humming bled into words,
“When there is light, a shadow appears                                                                   the cause and effect, when life interferes                                                               the same rule applies to goodness and grief;                                                         for in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means,”
His little visitor opened his eyes in an attempt to look at Balan as he sang aloud. While he could see his smile, the wide brim of his hat obscured the rest of his face. He wanted to look at the maestro fully as he hummed the rest of the tune, rocking and hugging him as a mother would do for a babe. 
The maestro himself continued to hum the melody while pressing in as close as allowed. Softening his grip, he brought the little one to look at him. And became overwhelmed with the glowing vision of the boy staring back at him. Trusting him in this way. Words were not required to be exchanged while the maestro strode slowly to the large bed to lay him down. While Leo calmed down, Balan brought a chair over to sit near the bed’s end. 
“Leo, what troubles you little one? You can tell me. This place,” he moved his arms around the chambers, “is completely safe. Nothing leaves here. Your sacred words are for my ears only. Words that I will keep close to me. I promise.” He placed his immense hand on Leo’s shoulder as the boy relaxed into it. Taking a breath, he soothed over his raked nerves while he thought of the right thing to say. His chest appeared tighter than normal, fingers lacing together and fidgeting. In spite of his bravery to show his emotions to Balan, he still felt like a wounded, stubborn soldier; unable to admit that his wounds were draining him. His eyes strewn about the room instead of interacting with the tall, lanky figure.
Balan did nothing to prompt the boy to say anything quickly. No means to force him to confess to what was ailing him in this way without volition. So he waited. Patient and understanding. He’d talk when it is time. He watched him take a few short breaths then they locked eyes once more. The fragility was nearly enough to break the maestro’s heart. 
“I...I was just really upset about someone I used to know. We were real close. I loved them... they were like a sibling to me,” Leo sniffled as he pulled his hair back, “But then I said something wrong... and so did they. And then we never saw each other again. I didn’t... mean what I said, but I-I was just so-”
“Angry,” Balan stated, “You lashed out at them and now you’re feeling extreme guilt for it.”
“I guess I’m madder at myself because I left without giving them a reason, but what could I say?,” The young teen looked at the bed sheets as he rubbed his nose, “Have you ever been in my situation before?” Leo inquired after a second of thought. 
Balan blinked rapidly, the small smile he kept fading in surprise. It was an emboldened inquiry. Aureate eyes slid closed, reminiscing to the time he and Lance fell out. Harshly. Only, it was not Balan who attacked with scathing words. Nothing more could be said between as the maestro departed from the other with bolide of tears streaking the cosmos in his wake. Lance never created the courage to apologize for those words, no matter how many times Balan imagined that he would. It came as an acceptance of bad pride on both ends that kept the healing away from the two of them. Even if Balan was no longer in need of the healing. The words were said, there could be nothing in Wonderworld or in the actual world to change that. 
“Yes... but it was at a time I no longer remember.” Balan did not meet Leo’s eyes this time. His words were satisfying enough for Leo but he knew there was more to the story. 
“All I want to do is say sorry. But it’s too late.” The young boy put his head in his hands, a miserable whimper coming forth.
“Maybe... maybe not. Leo, I may not be able to give the proper answer about how you can ask for your friend’s forgiveness. However, I do know how you can forgive yourself. And that is to accept that friends can genuinely drift apart. Something in the relationship fissures and causes both of you to turn away from each other. You can accept the blame, Leo. That’s okay. But you shouldn’t be hurting yourself with that blame.” Balan’s gloved hand pressed to Leo’s cheek, making the teen look at him. The way that Balan smiled made Leo’s lip curl in sweet smile as well. 
“Thank you... so much. I really needed to hear that. I just felt like it was all my fault.” He pressed himself into the gloved hand, warmth radiating off the limb. 
“You’re most welcome, little one. And know that I’m here for you. With any insecurity, I’ll help you in the best way I can,” His head pressed to Leo’s, well not quite. The large hat obscuring leant on the boy’s forehead, which felt annoying for the point he was attempting to make. He half sighed and laughed before standing out of the chair. 
“One thing. Remember when I said that sacred secrets do not leave this space?”Balan’s tone hinted at something yet Leo couldn’t find what about it, so instead he stiffly nodded, “Okay good. Because I have a very sacred secret to show you. Only you.” He cooed as his hands went to his hat, the article of fabric coming off his face and head with a slow tug. With a shake, jade colored dreads fell free, his gloved hands fluffing them as he pushed a threaded dread away from his forehead. 
“There we go,” He stated mutely as he put the hat on a vanity in the corner, moving to sit back down in front of the awestruck child, “Yes I know. I’m so funny looking.” He grinned cheerily before setting his hands atop the bedsheets. 
“No you’re not...”, Leo scooted closer to Balan, the maestro still grinning happily as he did, “You look so beautiful.” The teen breathed whimsically, as if entranced by the sight of him. 
The grin was pulled off Balan’s face so quick, Leo felt as if he had offended him. Golden eyes flickering like candlelight in the lucent, yet dark room. For a fraction of a second, the world spun. He could see stars on the brim of his vision. After a great upheaval of air from his lungs, Balan came back. 
“Beautiful...? No one’s ever called me that before.” He chuckled sheepishly as he smoothed over his dreads. 
“But can I call you beautiful?” Leo became a bit shy, the poor boy looked as if he did something wrong. 
“If that helps, then yes. You are more than welcome to call me ‘beautiful’, little one.” The maestro bowed in the chair gracefully. He smiled genuinely while he pulled little Leo in for a hug, the teen leaning into him as he pressed into his shoulder. As they parted, Balan found his moment to press his forehead against Leo’s. Their contact was electric, stunning but completely welcomed as Balan breathed him in softly. Leo reciprocated the gesture, his small hands wrapping around the maestro’s neck affectionately. Oceanic, hope-filled orbs blended with the sunset gold ones in perfection. They stayed like such for a while, neither coming up with any words to justify this moment between them had. When they had to pull apart, Balan was the one who leant forward, as if not wanting the contact to come to an end.
He gets up, still holding the teen, to lay him down on the large bed. Leo relaxes in the maestro’s embrace as he buries his face into his neck. Balan didn’t stop the sweet, light-hearted laugh that bubbled forth as he encompasses the boy, swaddling him in the warmth of his body. They exchange a final look before Leo yawns softly. His eyes, previously stricken with tears of grief, now sparkle with ebullience and peace.
The remainder of the night was of Balan holding the little one as if he were the only thing in the world, his world, to think of at that moment. Surrounded by a jubilant contentment, he lain himself bare in front of this particular visitor for the first time in ages. So long as it was with Leo, he’d do it again. 
Over and over again.
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fire-emblem-drabbles · 4 years ago
Text
Season’s Delight
Pairing: Yandere! (kinda) Niles x reader
Description: You couldn’t say you hated your relationship with Niles, you just... didn’t know how to feel about it. Where you really stood with him. This holiday season, he plans to show his true feelings for you.
Word Count: 2432
Rating: sfw
Notes: Another commission for the ever so lovely @modern-zervis-lovemail​! Again we’re serving up yan Niles but this time, far, far softly for the Christmas Season. Speaking of which, I hope this year is treating you kindly as we reach it’s end!
~*~
You couldn’t help but be in high spirits! It was the happiest of all seasons, and Heroes were simply bustling with holiday cheer! Not only that but recently, Niles had somewhat cooled down with his strange behavior; he still occasionally bothered you with his antics and games, though. You would say you were sick of him and the tricks he pulled… but the both of you knew that was wrong (even if you were loathe to admit it). Even the thought of him now made your heart pound for a very different reason. Since when had your thoughts for him been anything but bitter…? You shook your head to rid the thoughts, huffing loudly. Now he had gone and soured your mood and he was nowhere near you. Fantastic… Maybe helping the Heroes decorate and ready for the coming festivities would get your cheery disposition back where it belonged.
“Oh Summoner, where are you going in such a hurry?” His sing-song voice caught you in your tracks. Surely Niles knew whenever you were thinking of him for sooner rather than later he would appear to annoy and fluster you to his heart's content. Despite your prior thoughts you couldn’t help but smile a little at the idea he had come looking for you-- though you were glad to be facing away from him, lest he see your smile.
“Away from you, now shoo Niles! I’m busy.” You huffed, not even willing to turn to face him. You knew you would lose if you did. It was very obvious you weren’t busy at all.
“Aww come on! Did you forget? I just got my new look! I wanted you to be the first to see, even before my dear Lord Leo.” You blinked, remembering now. Niles was supposed to be the next resplendent Hero, you had just completely forgotten since the season's duties had gotten to you. What realm was he dressed from again…? You didn’t even really know why he of all Heroes was chosen but it’s not like you did it personally... You turned towards him, holding your breath and trying your best to look indifferent. When you finally saw him, little smirk and all, you couldn’t help but gasp softly.
“Muspell…” The colors fit him nicely, you noted. He actually looked really good; enough to bring a little color to your face. He caught your staring but for once held his tongue, simply smirking at the color that dusted your cheeks. “Don’t you know it's the Holidays, Niles? You’re going to look out of place prancing around like that.” Though you were impressed with how he came together, you couldn’t help but tease him. You wouldn’t let him win that easy.
“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to be the star at the top of the tree, burning brightly and catching everyone’s attention.” He decided. “Besides, I like it! Who knew I would look so good in red?” He mused, looking over himself as well.
“Is this all you came to show me then?” You asked. “I am still busy, after all.” You tried turning away from him but he caught your wrist.
“No need to leave so soon, Summoner! The evening is already upon us, after all, and I can think of nothing better but spending this cold, moonless evening with you.” You could tell he was raising up his charm; you wished you could say it didn’t affect you but even now, with his single blue eye cast upon you and his roguish smile drawing you in, you were having a hard time saying no. This was the first time he had bothered to ask for your company, rather than insert himself into whatever situation you found yourself in.
“It’s cold out, Niles.” You pouted a little and folded your arms to your chest, doing your best to close yourself off from him. “It wouldn’t be any good for either of us to catch a cold because you insist on going out.”
“We’ll stay in then.” Niles didn’t let up, moving closer to you and drawing your face to look at him, thumb and forefinger delicately holding your chin. “You know I’m not above begging for you _____, just give in.” He caught your gaze in his and you were left sputtering and breathless as he waited for you to once more find your words.
“O-okay, geez okay!” You quickly shook him off to save yourself from the embarrassment quickly welling up in your stomach. “You got me, I’m yours… for the evening only.” You warned, looking at him from the corner of your eye, color dusting your cheeks once you caught the victorious look on his face. “Just… don’t do anything... weird, okay?” You couldn’t help but sigh knowing that with him this night would be nothing but strange.
“You won’t regret it.” Niles was quick to take you by the hand, and even quicker to lead you down the winding halls of the Order of Heroes.
“H-hey wait! Where are we going?” You cried in your hurry to keep up with him. You forgot just how fast the former thief could be… You could hardly think while trying not to trip over yourself. “A-and why do we have to get there so fast?”
“Just somewhere we won’t be bothered. And besides, the sooner we get there the more time we’ll have together.” His simple logic had you blushing. Was he really so eager to spend time with you that he wanted to waste no time? Left blushing and wondering you simply let Niles drag you over to whatever corner of the castle he saw fit.
Once arrived, you couldn’t help but catch your breath, resting your hands on your knees and panting a little. “Geez… next time, let’s just walk okay..?” You wheezed out the words, not bothering to look up at Niles.
“Next time, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.” He chuckled softly, and you didn’t even bother to retort, standing to your full height and gasping at what you saw in the room. It seemed Heroes had gone full out decorating this cozy room for the coming festivities; stockings hung with cheer over a welcoming fire, sweets and treats laid out on a table, and a tree full of colorful ornaments. Under its branches, gifts wrapped with the utmost care sat waiting for the day of the festival where Heroes young and old alike would open them with joy in their hearts. And to finish it off, a big window sat, curtains open to show off the picture-perfect winter landscape and moonless sky.
“Niles…” You said softly. “How did you know this part of the castle had been decorated already?” Your eyes kept drifting from one decoration to another, trying to drink in the splendor of it all.
“I helped.” He said, happy to see how much you liked it. “I know how much you enjoy the season, _____ so I got some help and decorated this room… just for the two of us.” He enjoyed watching the way your face lit up, the light of the fire dancing off it in the most beautiful of ways. Already, he wanted the night to last forever-- and it had only just begun. He could spend hours looking at that smile of yours but there was so much more to be done tonight.
“You did this for me? For… us?” Your question hung in the air a moment as you caught his gaze, the surprise written on your features just as, if not more, adorable than the smile you had worn a moment before. “Niles… I don’t know what to say.” Something sparkled in your eye, brought color to your cheeks and a warm smile to your face. Surely the feeling of the season was catching up to you. It wasn’t like Niles had… any feelings for you, right?
“Well, a thank you would be nice.” Niles was only trying to tease but you surprised him by flying into his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. Though stunned a moment, Niles happily hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Of course I’m thankful you idiot.” Your voice had gone quiet and soft in an effort to conceal your true feelings. “I love it, its perfect. I just… can’t express how much it means to me that you did this.” You pulled back, meeting his gaze and smiling softly. “I just… I’m unuse to this feeling, I guess.” You admitted.
“Oh, and what feeling would that be?” Niles couldn’t help but tease you in this more serious moment, causing you to huff and look away. You let go of him and he let you free. You moved to the window to stare out it, eyes carefully looking over the landscape as you thought about the answer to his previous question. What were you feeling for him? Something sat on the tip of your tongue, something you were unwilling to admit to yourself, let alone him right now. “Do you have an answer for me?” He came to stand by you, his words once again serious. “Because I’m sure you have an inkling why I went out of my way to do this for you; I know you’re not that dense, Summoner.” You frowned at your reflection in the window, seeing Niles’ face was neutral.
“Don’t make me say it.” Your breath fogged up the glass, clouding you from the view outside. You weren’t ready to admit it, not unless he felt the same…
“_____…” He said your name so softly, you couldn’t help but turn to face him. “Why don’t you take a look above us?” Doing as asked, you looked up, eyes meeting the mistletoe that hung innocently between you. “It is tradition, after all.” His smile was serene, his touch nothing but feather-light as he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger for the second time this evening. This time, more than ever you felt out of the moment; as if you were witnessing it happen from another person's perspective entirely, a fantasy falling into place before your very eyes. “_____?” Niles saying your name caught your attention once more, your thoughts falling to nothing as he looked at you. “You seem… far away. And here I had gone through all this trouble to make this romantic.” His laugh was soft but you could sense something bitter. You appreciated how he waited for your reaction though-- there was certainly a time you didn’t think it above him to steal a kiss but now he was the picture of patient.
“I just…” You took a deep breath. “I can’t do this if you don’t feel the same, Niles. Please tell me this is more than just a game to you.” Your words were quiet, your tone barely heard above the cracking of the fire.
“A game? Do you really think so little of me that I would play with your feelings like this?” He tsked gently, moving to fill the space between the two of you. “When have I ever looked at anyone the way I look at you?”
“N-no it’s not that… I just… It’s just hard for me to believe this, is all. Someone like you with someone like me?” You asked him softly. “I just… I thought you wouldn’t want me.” You admitted, casting your gaze back to the window. Your breath had cleared from the window, letting you see the night sky once more.
“Well, you’re wrong.” Niles' blunt way of speaking always seemed to get to you, drawing your attention to him once more. “Since you seem so desperate for me, I’ll come out and say it; I love you, _____, and there’s no one I’d rather spend my time with, festivals or not. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me because I have no plans of leaving you once this night is over.”
“Niles…” He was being himself but at this point, would you want him any other way? This is who you feel for, after all-- Niles in all his strange behaviors… You wouldn’t have it any other way. “You promise? You won’t leave my side?” It felt nice, knowing someone wanted to protect you… To be there with you… be with you.
“No need to ask me twice, darling.” You need not say more, nor he. The moment seemed to melt like the snow on the window until his lips finally, finally met yours. It felt like something you had waited so long for now yet at the same time, something you couldn’t anticipate. Surprisingly though, it was a gentle kiss; something innocent and sweet and chaste that you wanted to last so much longer than it did. Niles was the one to pull away first, a sweet smile playing at his lips as he opened his eye again. “So I’ll take that as a ‘Yes Niles, I love you too!’” Again, he was teasing but you found it hard to care in his warm grasp.
“Yes, I do. I love you too. So much.” You giggle as the words leave your mouth, something light and airy replacing the feeling of uncertainly and dread you had once felt. Niles could only sigh in content as you relaxed in his arms. This evening had gone far better than Niles could have ever hoped, all thanks to you being so receptive to his affections. After all, he would have hated to have made you love him back… This was for the better, in the end. You would always be by his side, and Niles would make sure only he could be the one to enjoy you to the fullest; to love, to laugh, to be the reason you smile, and the reason you cry. Niles wanted it all from you, dear Summoner, and you had yet to see just how greedy he could be.
“So it’s settled then. You and I, _____, are going to be quite the pair.” Niles couldn’t help his smile as you lead him to the fire, the chill of the window having gotten to you.
“Could you quit being weird for one moment? Just… act like a normal man for once and come cuddle with me?” You complained, sitting on a love seat and patting the spot next to you.
“If you insist.” He rolled his eye, pulling you close to him and smiling as you cuddled into his warmth. Oh, if only you knew Summoner. If only you knew…
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tmntgirlie · 4 years ago
Text
Saviors in a Half Shell 4
Ah, the plan. The plan to help Y/N, the plan specifically created and constructed to assist Y/N. The Y/N Plan.
Splinter was, as usual, the first to wake up.
He loved his sons dearly, but he also loved the quiet he had when he woke up before them. Once at least one was awake, he knew he would be forced to socialize, step into his fatherly role (not that he didn’t love it, but everybody needs a break from time to time), give advice that only a rat father could. Especially right now, he knew that all four of his sons were nervous about their roles. It was warranted.
It was the ripe time of almost noon. He decided it was about time to make his first cup of tea for the day. Tea was always a pleasant beginning.
As the kettle began to head up, he heard a rustling near the doorway. “Leonardo, you’re awake early-” he began to say, but stopped when he saw who it really was.
Y/N stood, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was a little bit all over the place, something dark shaded under her eyes. “I’m so sorry, what was your name again?”
“You may call me Splinter, my dear. What are you doing up so early?” he asked warily.
“I don’t usually sleep this late,” the girl said, covering her mouth when she yawned. “I’ll take it that last night wasn’t really a dream.”
Splinter quietly added a little more water and tea leaves to the kettle. “You would be correct. Did you sleep well?”
“For someone that doesn’t like sleeping anywhere but my own bed, I’d say so.” She gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“Welcoming me into your home,” Y/N said with a shrug. “A stranger, giving me a safe place to sleep.”
“We help those who are in need of help,” he told her, leaning against the makeshift countertop. “You were not in a good place last night. Would you agree?”
Y/N nodded silently.
“I won’t pry into your personal health,” he said. “But I’d like you to know that we can be here for you if you want us. My sons aren’t like anybody else. They may be rough around the edges, but they have good hearts. They want to help you just like I do.”
He poured two cups of tea and gestured for them to continue their conversation elsewhere. She followed him down a few more narrow hallways, carefully holding her cup to keep it from spilling. He pushed back a few curtains to reveal a greenhouse of sorts. It was warm, the air was moist, and the room was filled with potted plants, flowers, and what she thought were herbs of sorts.
“It’s amazing,” she said quietly. “I never thought these kinds of things were even possible down here. You live down here. It’s amazing.”
“We made do with what is available to us,” Splinter said with a small smile. “This is all we have ever known.”
“How did you- you know, come to be?” Y/N asked.
The question he was waiting for.
“As you probably could have guessed,” he chuckled. “We aren’t your typical rat and turtles. Years ago, we were subjects in an experiment to create a substance that could withstand a harsh environment.” He spared her the nitty gritty details, it was likely too early for that.
“One night, a fire erupted in the lab. We managed to escape, though at the time we were still seen as the ordinary rat and four turtles. As years went by, we grew into what we are. It has been twenty-two long years. I took the role as both father and master of the turtles. It wasn’t easy, but it needed to be done.”
“That’s amazing,” she repeated, a little more enthusiastic this time. “You could write a book about this.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m afraid not. You see, we aren’t accepted by the general population of this city. A select few humans have actually had the pleasure of seeing us for who we are and not what we look like. You are now one of them.” Splinter carefully sat his cup of tea down on a bare crate. He picked up a watering can and began to get to work.
“Need any help?”
“I enjoy doing this myself, but the company is appreciated. If you have any more questions, I’m sure my sons would be happy to explain their life stories to you.”
Y/N searched her mind for their names. It had been so late, the events of the night prior were blurry. She remembered their faces. Each wore a different colored mask. They were all so different, so unique- what were their names?
“Dad, I can’t find-” A voice rang through the greenhouse-room. She instantly recognized it, the first voice she heard. The first one she remembered.
Y/N turned to see who she instantly recognized as Leonardo, Leo. It had just dawned on her that their names were in reference to Renaissance painters. She’d have to ask about that later.
The turtle stopped. “Oh. There you are.”
She waved awkwardly. “Here I am.” She gave him a small smile.
Yeah, okay. These guys were freakishly huge turtles. Who were extremely muscular, bore weapons draped over their shells and at their sides. Sure. But they were her rescuers. She was comfortable with using that word now.
Leonardo noticeably relaxed. “You’re up early.”
“It’s almost noon. I usually wake up before eight,” she said. “...Thank you.”
He tilted his head. “What?”
“Thank you. For last night. I know it was… Not the greatest way to meet you guys, or for you to meet me.” Her gaze shifted down to her feet. “I just have some… Issues. That I need to work through.”
Leonardo turned to his father, who only nodded before going back to watering his plants. He wondered what all was said before he got there.
This wasn’t technically part of the plan, but this was a good start nonetheless.
“The other’s won’t be up for a while still. I’m heading to the dojo for my morning meditations.”
“You even have a dojo?” She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice if she tried. Mutant turtles that meditate. That live in the sewers, that drink tea (at least one of them), that like Thai food, video games, and who knows what else.
Leonardo held back a chuckle as he gestured back towards the doorway. “You can join me, if you’d like.”
Y/N quickly shook her head. “I don’t even know how to meditate.”
“We all start somewhere. Are you coming?”
It was hard to say no.
Leonardo positioned her at the opposite end of the dojo as him. He gave her a few quick pointers to get her started before he sat down and shut his eyes.
Y/N watched him for a moment before she did the same. His words echoed in her head, so few instructions but so many at the same time.
Count your breaths.
In one, out two, all the way to ten and start again.
Let your mind feel what it needs to feel. Don’t let it engulf you, but allow yourself to feel.
When your mind wanders too far, start at one again. In. Out.
To think that she thought she was good at taking instruction.
In, one.
Two, out.
As she counted up, she could feel a metaphorical weight lift from her shoulders. She could hear Leonardo’s breathing in the corner, though it was soft. She felt his presence.
Shit, did I leave the tea in the greenhouse?
Back to one. Out, two.
Y/N could feel the darkness in her mind. She allowed herself to feel it, welcoming it as a friend as opposed to an intruder. It was part of her, her own way of feeling.
Out, six.
Meditation wasn’t something she thought of to do. Her life was too busy for something like that, she thought. Those minutes could be better spent elsewhere.
Maybe it was time to slow down.
Alright, back to one now.
Time became an afterthought. When she finally opened her eyes, Leonardo was beginning to stand. He reached his arms up, then held them behind his back in a stretch. She swore she could hear some joints popping.
Y/N slowly got to her feet, reaching her arms up towards the ceiling. Where she could see Leo could easily touch the ceiling, her arms were feet away from it. At least she knew she would never bump her head here.
Not that that was a general worry of hers. Not many walls were only five-foot something.
“That was nice,” she said, breaking the silence. “Do you do this every morning?” She recalled when he had said ‘morning meditations’.
“Every morning when I wake up. It helps clear my head and get me ready for the day,” Leonardo told her with a nod. “I’ll do it before nightfall if I need to as well.”
“A healthy habit,” she mused. “The others don’t join you?”
Leonardo gave her a shrug in response. “Sometimes. They’d prefer the extra sleep. Honestly, they could do with a little more meditation.”
“I definitely feel more ready for the day. Or breakfast at least.” As if on cue, her stomach began to growl.
He laughed. “Come on, let’s get you some breakfast.
“How long did we go, anyway?”
“Thirty minutes. You beat Mikey’s record.”
A small feat, she told herself. Mikey did not seem like one to keep still for that long.
Y/N should have referred to their meal as ‘lunch’, especially considering the time. She thought this as they passed through another corridor, one that was a little smellier than the rest. She did applaud them for keeping the place smelling less like sewer than it actually was. Did turtles have a sense of smell?
“So, you meditate. Do your brothers have any habits or hobbies?”
“Raphael does the most physical training,” Leo said, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “Weight training, boxing, you name it. Donnie keeps to his science-y stuff. He’s good with technology and chemistry, that pretty much covers most of his free time. Mikey… He has trouble focusing on one thing.”
“Shocking.”
He laughed. “He’s gotten better, more tolerable to live with. He’s not allowed near Donnie’s things anymore, though.”
Y/N stopped walking and crossed her arms over her chest. “Now you have to tell me this story.”
Leo was amazed. She had a completely different presence to her now than the night before. She was sarcastic, she was witty. He could tell she chose her words carefully, but when she looked at him, it wasn’t with the usual disgust or fear. It was with amazement, intrigue.
Strange human.
The tale began of how Mikey had accidentally caused a bad chemical reaction in Donatello’s lab area. It wasn’t a small sort of reaction- in fact, it ended up ruining most of Donnie’s equipment. He refused to speak to him for days as he tried to both fix and replace what had been lost. Y/N made a mental note to ask how they got equipment like that in the first place.
By the time Leo had no more to say, they were settled at the table in the kitchen with some food. He had made up a couple dozen sandwiches with various meats and toppings, all with cheese. When he set the platters down at the table, he paused. “I didn’t ask you what you wanted, did I?”
“I’m not that picky,” she assured him. “You probably need to explain what all these are, though.”
She picked a simple turkey sandwich after an entire speech ensued about each sandwich. They liked variety. As she took a bite, she smirked. “I had no idea turtles ate meat. Good to know.”
“Not sure if you’ve picked up on this yet, but we’re not your run-of-the-mill turtles.”
Oh, she definitely had.
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