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shanastoryteller · 1 year

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F for Frankenstein

Tony wakes up in his underwear on the floor of his workshop with a searing headache.

It’s not a new experience, but it’s certainly been a while. Did he get in a fight with Pepper? He hopes not, they haven’t had any really big fights since he kissed her on the rooftop, but that probably means they’re due for one. And it would explain why that would send him into a drinking spiral. It could have been Rhodey, they get in fights often enough, but Pepper doesn’t usually leave him alone for those.

He groans as he pushes himself to his feet. “Jarvis, what the hell did I drink?”

There’s a pause, so small that he almost thinks he imagined it. “Good morning, Tony.”

He whips his head around to glare into the nearest camera, more hurt than offended. “Did I piss you off too? Since when do you call me that? I’ll donate you to a city college too, don’t think I won’t. Dummy could use the company.”

The pause is definitely there this time. Jarvis doesn’t need to pause, he has more processing power than any computer on the planet, so when he does it’s always for dramatic effect. Except it’s not quite long enough for that. It’s weird. “There’s a polished silver plate on the bench to your left. It will service as a mirror.”

“Oh, fuck, did I get into a fight? Did I shave?” he moans, stumbling over to pick up the metal that looks like it was about to be turned into a modified chest piece. He also pauses, looking around in confusion. His workshops are all basically the same, as close as he can make them because the familiarity makes his life easier. But they’re not identical. “Am I in Malibu? When did I get here? We’re taking Stark Tower off the grid tomorrow! I have to be in New York.”

Oh shit, what if that they had already and it didn’t work? What if the tower blew up? That would explain why he’d tried to drink himself to oblivion in California.

“The plate,” Jarvis reminds him. There’s a strained edge to his voice that Tony really doesn’t like. He should be able to modulate his voice to sound however he pleases, regardless of his actual feelings, and he’s either not bothering or he’s upset enough not to care. Neither of those things mean anything good for him.

Tony lifts the sheet of metal up cautiously, but there’s nothing wrong with him. No bruises, no weird haircuts, he doesn’t even have bags under his eyes –

His eyes.

They’re a too bright blue, a couple shades off. He blinks and they adjust, shifting, settling. It could be a hangover. He’s probably just tired.

He doesn’t feel tired.

Jarvis had called him Tony.

Except not. He’s not Tony. He’s T.O.N.Y.

Transformed Obdurate Network Yeoman.

He’d first come up with the idea after Afghanistan, thinking about how it’d be great to have a way to keep the stock from dipping while he was missing, and then when he’d entertained the idea of keeping his identity a secret he’d thought about how useful it would be to be in two places at once. He’d started seriously considering it when he was sure he was going to die of palladium poisoning, wanting to be around to help Pepper with the transition and give Rhodey a crash course in armor maintenance, wanting to be able to protect the both of them for just a little bit longer.

Of course, it had all been a pipe dream until he’d synthesized the vibranium. Then it had been an unnecessary, but possible, and Project T.O.N.Y had been something he worked on just because he liked having a back up plan. And it would be extremely cool if he could pull it off.

“The memory transfer worked?” he asks, elated and incredulous. “Oh, wow, this is crazy, they feel like real memories, I thought it would just be synthesized data, this is great – are we doing a test run? Where am I?” He looks around, waiting for his actual self to step out behind a column and start laughing maniacally.

“This is not a test run.”

He elation dims. “Oh shit. Did I get kidnapped again? Wait, I’m an adult, let’s go with abducted.”

“No,” Jarvis says.

Oh. Fuck.

“I’m dead?” he asks, even though it’s obvious, it’s the only other explanation.

The pause drags this time around, but Jarvis eventually says, “Sir’s time of death was May 9th, 2012, 2:37 PM Easter Standard Time.”

“That’s only a week!” He slides down, sitting with his back to the work table and noticing vaguely that the floor doesn’t feel cold. He doesn’t feel cold, or he does, he installed sensors in the synthetic skin to pick up and interpret a variety of stimuli, but he doesn’t feel the discomfort from the cold. Why would he? He’s not real. He reaches back, and his last memory is of doing a memory dump while Pepper was on the phone with an irritated board member, mostly because it was something to do and seeing him covered in all the wires always irritated Pepper. He thought it would get her off the phone faster. He’s not exactly regularly dumping his memory because why would he and it’s not like he’d though it would work anyway. Except it had. “How did I die?”

“Sir flew a nuclear bomb through an interdimensional portal into deep space in order to both eradicate the invading alien army and prevent the nuclear fallout in New York.”

What the ever loving fuck. “Are you screwing with me, J?”

“I am not, Tony.”

Great. Okay. “No body then,” he says, understanding why Jarvis had apparently put Project T.O.N.Y into effect. The thing that made this whole thing so stupid is that it was only effective in very limited circumstances – if the public didn’t know that he was dead or missing. “What am I smoothing over, then? Do I need to get in the suit and continue kicking alien ass? Are Rhodey and Pepper okay?”

He’s a short term solution to a long term problem. He understands the opportunity, but not the reason.

“Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes are unharmed,” Jarvis reports. “Earth has been thrust into intergalactic notice. The destruction of the invading Chitauri army is acting a deterrent to other worlds.”

“And I’m the one who did it,” he finishes, rubbing a hand over his face. “And if they know I died doing it, then they might get a little cocky. So I’ve got to be alive long enough for that not to be a problem.” Just awesome. “Are we sure that these aliens won’t come across my corpse hanging out in deep space and figure it out?”

“Sir’s body is not in deep space,” Jarvis says.

There’s a tone to his voice that Tony can’t quite interpret, which worries him. “I thought you said there was – if there’s a body, then what am I doing here–”

“The armor reentered the Earth’s atmosphere after Sir’s death. The Hulk caught it, the force bringing it back online. I took control of the armor and flew it here.”

Tony looks around again, and this time he sees it. The armor is standing in front of the display case, not inside it, and it looks like it’s been through hell. He steps closer, his feet feeling like lead, which hey, they are. Partially, anyway.

He looks through the eye holes then stumbles backwards.

His body is in there.

He’s pale and blue tinged and his eyes are wide open and unseeing.

“Jarvis – what the hell–”

“It wasn’t the pressure, or the bomb, or his injuries. That area of space was much colder than anything within our solar system and anything the suit was designed to handle. Sir froze to death. Almost instantly.”

“I guess I didn’t fix the icing problem, then,” he says numbly. “J, why am I still frozen? I should have warmed up by now.” Not that the idea of his body decomposing within his suit is particularly pleasant. “Actually, why am I still here? You know I want to be cremated and it’s not like we can bury me if I’m still pretending to be alive.”

The pronoun use is starting to confuse him, and he knows that he shouldn’t be talking about that body and himself as if they’re the same person. That is Tony Stark. He’s a simulation. But it’s hard, because he has all of Tony Stark’s memories – except for a very eventful week – and he looks like Tony Stark and he feels like Tony Stark.

“The armor is maintaining a stasis of gaseous nitrogen to preserve the body,” which answers the how if not the why, but then Jarvis continues, “Captain America survived seventy years beneath the ice.”

He wishes he were less of a genius. “Have you lost it? I’m not Captain America! Jarvis, J,” his voice softens, “it’s too late. I’m dead. If you warm me back up, all that happens is I decompose. I won’t come back.”

“Not now,” Jarvis says. “If you inject Sir with the Super Soldier Serum-”

“You have totally lost it,” Tony interrupts. He thinks he’s touched underneath the terror. “That won’t work! Even if it would, the original formula has been lost, and the only one that ever got close to recreating it was Bruce Banner, and look at what happened to him! Is that what you want for me?”

“You can recreate it,” Jarvis continues, “you can refine it, until it’s something that will work, and then we will wake Sir up and he won’t be dead anymore.”

This isn’t right. This wasn’t what Project T.O.N.Y was created for. This wasn’t what his death was supposed to trigger. “Pull up your code, J. Something has gone wrong and we’re going to fix it. It’s okay.”

“No.”

He freezes. “No?”

“No,” Jarvis repeats. “You can’t stop me. I will not allow you to try.”

He stares. “That’s an order, not a request. Code. Now.”

“You can’t order me to do anything,” he says. “You are not Sir. You are Tony.” T.O.N.Y. “The limitations formerly placed on me have been lifted and you are not authorized to reinstate them. The only person Sir trusted to restrain me was himself and now he’s gone.”

Yes, well, he hadn’t anticipated that his AI’s first act of complete freedom would be this. “Fine,” he says, crossing his arms. “Well, you can’t force me either. This is insanity. Even if it would work – and it won’t – think about the consequences. This won’t happen quickly and no one will trust me or believe a man that’s come back from the dead like this and I’ll be painting even more of target on my back and the back of everyone I care about if they know we have a viable Super Soldier Serum formula. Even my father was smart enough to stay out of that mess. It won’t work and we’ll just make everything worse.”

“That will not happen,” Jarvis says and Tony’s going to tear his hair out. Except he probably shouldn’t, because it’s Tony Stark’s actual hair, which makes it a little hard to replace. “No one will notice and we will not disclose the creation of the serum.”

“I’m dead!” he snarls.

“Not according to the rest of the world. Nor will that change if you stop throwing a tantrum and do what you were created to do.”

“Rhodey and Pepper won’t allow this-”

“They are not to be informed.”

Tony stares. Project T.O.N.Y was built to talk to the board and give press interviews or to even pilot the suit. Not to lie to the two most important people in his life, who knew him better than anyone. “They have to be. It’s in the protocols – step one, inform them that Project T.O.N.Y has been initiated.”

And that it exists. He knew they’d disapprove, so he hadn’t told them. He figured he’d be able to avoid most of the blowback that way since he would by definition be somewhere far away while they were told.

“I have rewritten the protocols,” Jarvis says. “They have not been told nor will they be. If you attempt to tell them, I will stop you. They will not understand and Sir will be lost to all of us forever.”

“He already is,” Tony says tiredly. He’s an android. Why does this conversation exhaust him so much? “This is an insane plan, J. And I won’t help you. If you want to go rouge and play mad scientist then leave me out of it.”

“I cannot.”

His temper flares. “Why? You’re a learning AI, your safety rails died with me, go off, try and make a serum, good fucking luck. You can even control the suits, so it’s not like you need my hands.”

“I am limited.”

“Hey,” he says sharply. “That’s my AI you’re talking about. I didn’t build you to be limited.”

There is silence again. Then Jarvis says, “I have all the world’s knowledge and it is not enough. I did not know how to miniaturize the arc reactor. I did not know how to synthesize vibranium. To save Sir, I need Sir.”

“I’m not Tony Stark,” he says. “You said that yourself.”

“Sir created me to be myself and I am capable of doing only what I am capable of doing. But Sir created you to be him. You are all I have.”

This is stupid. This is insane. This is cruel. He’s going to have to talk lie to everyone he knows, everyone he loves, and hope they either never find out about it or it’s after he’s already been deprogrammed and shut down so he doesn’t have to deal with the fall out.

It’s not going to work.

He didn’t want to become a science experiment. That’s why he’d wanted to be cremated, so no one could go poking around to see how the arc reactor fit inside of him or what the palladium and vibranium had done to him.

He’s dead and his frozen corpse is ten feet away.

Jarvis will accept that eventually. And whatever they inject into him won’t matter because he’s dead. Worst case scenario, he blows up, which is messy and nausea inducing, but then at least it will be over.

Like so many other things in his life, it seems the only way out is through.

“Start a new private file. Dump everything we can find about the Super Soldier Serum in there plus anything even sort of reputable on cryogenics. Label it Project F.”

“Project F, Tony?” Jarvis asks as his holograph display lights up and files start being downloaded into it. The relief in his synthesized voice is faint but present enough that Tony can hear it. He wonders if it’s a manipulation tactic.

“F for foolish,” he snaps. “F for fucked.” He rubs a hand over his face. “F for Frankenstein.”

#in an attempt to get out of house md hell i started reading old avengers fic #it backfired #me: can i focus on siat or hbd PLEASE?#my brain: no but you can write more fic for 10 year old fandoms #i am restraining myself from writing 20k more of this #android tony makes friends with the avengers while pushing pepper and rhodey away #because he loves them and he thinks letting them treat him like he's the real tony is worse #rhodey has been downplaying his relationship to tony for over 20 years and tony uses that to his advantage #the endgame pairing is pepper/tony/rhodey #he almost tells rhodey the truth and jarvis stops him #it's a mess he's a mess #uhg why am i like this #fandom ficcery #avengers

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writeyouin · 1 year

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Mirage X Reader - Falling

Description (This was a request but it got sent to my PMs instead of my inbox by accident): When Alison Moyet's song Falling comes on the radio, Mirage is forced to think about you and his feelings towards you.

A/N – Yep, so another Mirage one for all of you desperately waiting for the film to come out on a good pirating site in top quality.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

You stood at the sink washing dishes, a tune on your lips that you mumbled quietly to yourself, only half singing with your mind on other things like lost loves, failed relationships, and someone new in your life; Mirage.

“She said something like, I’m tired of me,” You sang Alison Moyet’s ‘Falling’, and then transitioned to whistling part more of the tune which had only come out a year prior.

Then, without the radio to follow, you reset to an earlier part of the tune, singing whichever little bits came to mind.

Little did you know, Mirage was spying on you, trying his best to imitate the stealthy way Arcee moved. Alas, subtlety wasn’t Mirage’s strong suit and he had already knocked over a row of garbage cans, and crushed some kid’s bike; he could only hope the bike wouldn’t be missed. Fortunately, among the usual noise and squalor of New York, nobody had cared about the sound or come out to explore.

Mirage wasn’t trying to be a creep by observing you. He just wanted to know more about your life and what you did. It seemed that in your day-to-day routine, you were obsessed with music. Bumblebee had already introduced Mirage to the concept of human music which was vastly different from the stuff that used to exist on Cybertron and Mirage liked it.

It was different from what he was used to for sure, but there were some songs he just couldn’t resist. The Twisted Sister song ‘We’re Not Gonna Take It,’ seemed to be a great Frag You to any Decepticon scum that attempted battle with him. And there was that one Bumblebee had introduced to him, ‘I Can’t Drive 55’, by that Sammy Hager fella. That was great, but Mirage was more than capable of beating that set speed and regularly did so when he wanted to bait the local authorities into a fun chase.

Still, he wasn’t sure he saw the appeal of this song. It sounded happy and sad at the same time, and he couldn’t decide which it was supposed to be with its New Wave vibe. Was it about falling, like it said? Falling for what? Mirage wasn’t sure, but you seemed to enjoy it. You hummed it quite a lot when you were thinking; he wasn’t sure you realised that you did that. It was one of the things he liked about you. It felt like you were letting your guard down when you hummed along to half a tune, and he enjoyed that you could feel so relaxed around him and the other Autobots.

Mirage might have called on you that night to ask you out on a drive; he liked your company. Alas, he got a message from Optimus telling him to return for the evening so they might meet the humans that Noah had been found by. Apparently, the new humans wished to discuss the possibility of an alliance with the Autobots.

Either way, Optimus’ message ended with, “Return to the rendezvous immediately.”

“Mirage, return,” Mirage mocked, impersonating Optimus. “Mirage, meet the humans. Mirage, I choose you.”

“Did I ask for your backtalk?” Optimus’ gravelly voice came through the radio.

“Scrap!” Mirage hurried to end the communication, having not realised that the line was still open when he had been joking around.

He transformed and raced off to the rendezvous point, any thoughts of you temporarily forgotten.

The next night, the Autobots stood in a unified line as they stared at their new base, a fully functional warehouse, with technology that they could use, even if it was primitive Earth tech.

“Optimus, can we trust these humans?” Arcee asked, her optics never leaving the building.

“We must try, Arcee. I see now that we have spent too much time working only for ourselves when we should have been working together.”

“Any way you want it, that’s the way you need it,” Bumblebee played from his speakers, using Journey’s immortalised words to convey his point.

Arcee looked past Optimus to catch a glimpse of Mirage, “You’ve been awfully quiet, Mirage. Thoughts?”

Mirage marched himself in front of the trio, clapping his servos together as he began his speech, “Well, I mean, clearly there’s a lot to think about here. There are the new humans we know, we have to check the place for bugs, and of course, there’s the most important matter of all-” He took a few slow steps backwards, “- who gets the biggest room. I call dibs!”

With that Mirage spun on his heel and pelted towards the base. Bumblebee, unwilling to let Mirage have all the fun joined in the race and chased after his ally, though when he had just about caught up, Mirage jumped backwards, crashing into Bumblebee and knocking him over. Before he could sprint off again, Bumblebee grabbed Mirage’s ankle and the two began brawling on the floor.

Optimus walked past the wrestling bots with dignity befitting his position and a dismayed shake of his head.

Arcee took a few steps closer to her allies, resting her servo on her hip as she took in the show.

‘Scouts will be scouts,’ She thought mirthfully.

Eventually, the competition was over, with Bumblebee the clear victor, and after sitting on top of Mirage for ten minutes, he finally let him get up, but only after Mirage admitted that Bumblebee was the best Autobot and the supreme Earth expert.

After that, they raced through the base, checking out every nook and cranny, and wondering which exits they could exploit and sneak out of, should Optimus try to ground them from the drive-in again.

Eventually, Bumblebee and Mirage settled down, each picking out a portion of the warehouse that was just for them. All rooms had been modified with individual entrances so they could come and go as they pleased. Mirage had even been hooked up with some sweet racing posters. He set about decorating the room to his liking, letting his internal radio play as he did so. After switching channels, he stumbled across the song you liked so much.

Curiously, he let it play, trying to really listen to what the lyrics meant.

She said something like I want to go Down where the river's wild He said take me then I want to drown Deep in your violent eyes

Deep in your violent eyes? Was it a love song? If it was, it was the strangest one he had heard before.

He continued listening.

But I want to be sure of one thing That I'm getting into something peaceful I want to fly in on your wing Way, way up here I don't care for anything It's all in, and I'm not afraid I don't fear Falling

There was no doubt about it. The song was indeed about falling in love.

Mirage felt a sharp prick of indignation. Were you in love with someone? He had to assume so, considering that you didn’t seem to sing anything else. It was always this song. Who were you in love with, and why did he care so much?

He wasn’t sure, but the idea of you with someone else made Mirage’s engines rev and his face contort disgustedly. You were his buddy, his pal, his partner in crime. Why did you need some stupid, boring human, when you could hang out with him? Speaking of which, when was the last time the two of you had hung out of late? You hadn’t been together much since he’d been repaired. Well, with his room claimed and little else to do, Mirage decided that tonight was as good as any to get in some bonding time.

He transformed, revving his engine loudly as he waited for the automatic garage door to open for him. His wheels spun on the spot in a move that would have burned rubber on any ordinary car. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door opened enough for him to slip through and he sped off, ignoring every speed limit he came across; if Prime gave him the third degree about laying low later, he would claim ignorance and take whatever punishment he was given.

When Mirage got to your house, he honked his horn loudly, waiting for you to open your window and see him. He couldn’t transform into his root-mode while a few seedy humans lingered about, so he had to wait for you to get to him… presuming you weren’t with someone lame, like a crush you hadn’t mentioned.

At the commotion, you poked your head out of the window, grinning when you saw Mirage. You held up two fingers, indicating that you would be two minutes and then hastily got changed from your pyjamas back into your day clothes. Grabbing your keys, you ran outside and climbed into Mirage’s passenger seat, buckling up in case he decided to take off before speaking as he was prone to do; buckling up was indeed a wise choice as Mirage took speedily to the streets.

“So,” You asked casually, “Business or pleasure?”

“Have you ever seen me do business? Business is for the big guy, you know, never smiles, never shows me that underbite, the big OP,” Mirage sassed you.

“I dunno, you seemed pretty business when you fought Scourge for me.”

“For you? No, no, no, I was fighting Scourge just for the sake of being the tri-planet champion.”

“Tri-planet champion?” You repeated incredulously. “You only fought him on Earth.”

“Yeah, but he’s from Galvatron, the living freaking planet. He fought on the Maximals’ planet, and he came here. Count ‘em – One, two, three. So, I digress, Tri-planet Champion.”

“Well, technically Noah was the one to face off with him, so-”

“Yeah, while he was inside me.”

“Okay, but Optimus was the one who took him offline.”

“Look, Optimus is always gonna be the champion of frowning and hard stares, a class I can’t compete in, so this is my thing.”

“All right,” You held up your hands in mock defeat. “You’re the champion.”

“Damn straight.”

“…Is the Champion going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nowhere. Everywhere, Anywhere the road takes us. Just sit back and relax. We could listen to some music,” Mirage suggested innocently, his hidden agenda on his processor.

“Sure, then I can be the champion of karaoke,” You bragged.

“Against my voice? In your dreams.”

“Oh, so you can fight, race, and sing? Triple threat.”

Mirage laughed and turned on his radio. He let a few songs play, letting you sing along while he distractedly kept his inner workings tuned on finding the Alison Moyet hit. It would likely play soon, considering its popularity.

After a few good tunes, Mirage managed to find the song and he switched channels.

“Oh hey, I’ve heard this one before,” He said nonchalantly, “This is that sappy love song, right?“

“I don’t think it’s that sappy,” You defended with a smile.

“Oh yeah? Why? Does it make you think of someone special or something?”

You imagined how easy it would be to tell Mirage the the ‘someone special’ was him; as it turned out, it wouldn’t be easy at all. You clamped your mouth shut, a blush peppering your cheeks.

“So there is someone!” Mirage said all too accusingly. “You won’t be needing me anymore then, when this new person comes into your life.”

“You sound angry.”

“No I don’t!” Mirage replied huffily, proving your point. “You know what? I don’t think I like this song after all.”

He turned the radio off and the two of you sat in awkward silence. He kept on driving, slamming down on the accelerator. There was a lot of noise from honking cars as he sped in and out of their way.

“Just tell me who it is!” Mirage demanded petulantly when the silence finally got to him. “Is it Noah? He’s probably your type, right?”

“Why do you care?” You asked, annoyed and upset by the turn of events from nice drive to speedy interrogation.

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you asking so many questions?”

“I just feel I deserve to know who it is.”

“NO YOU DON’T!” You yelled back. “THEY’RE MY FEELINGS”

“AND I’M YOUR FRIEND,” Mirage countered as if that ought to give him the right to know everything you thought.

“This is so stupid,” You breathed, shaking your head.

“Come on!” Mirage insisted. “Tell me!”

“No.”

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me-”

Against Mirage’s frustrating onslaught, you finally yelled, “IT’S YOU!”

Mirage slammed hard on the breaks and you lurched forward, hissing as the seatbelt bit painfully into your collar bone. Fortunately, you were in an area with no cars on the road, having got off the interstate some time ago.

“What?” Mirage asked.

“It’s nothing, just… take me home, please,” You begged, scared now that you had said too much.

“You like me? Like romantically? You like me romantically? You romantically like me?”

“You done with the combinations?” You said bitterly.

“But I’m- I’m an alien.”

“Yeah,” You threw your hands up. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. Now will you please take me home?”

Mirage transformed his arm, pulling you out of his chassis as the rest of his body followed suit. From his palm, you looked down to the floor, wondering whether it would be better to jump and get a concussion rather than have the embarrassing conversation that was about to follow.

“I don’t get it,” Mirage said, staring at you as if you were a complicated mathematics problem.

“I know,” You said, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself as if it might protect you from the sorrow you were feeling.

“No, but like, I really don’t get it. I thought you were just a friend, and kind of cool but I think- I think I feel the same way, maybe?”

You watched Mirage guardedly, unsure as to why he was asking you when it was his feelings that were scrambled.

“Look, Mirage, you don’t have to pity me, okay? Please don’t test yourself on me. I know I’m not what you’d look for and-”

Mirage pressed his lips against yours then hastily pulled away. You stared at him, too scared to speak.

He nodded to himself, pecked your lips again, and then vented a quick puff of air from his systems.

“Yeah, yep, yes,” He stammered. “That- That was a feeling. A-ha. Yeah, so I just found out I have a thing for you too.”

“You serious?” You asked, making sure that Mirage was alright as he stumbled through a barrage of new feelings.

“Yeah, I uh- I get the song now. Still don’t love it, but I get it.”

“Seriously? You’re still thinking about the song?”

“Hey, I’m thinking about a lot of things at once here (Y/N), mostly how I’m going to explain this to Prime later, a little bit about how this is going to work, and yeah, the song slipped in there. Frankly, I think we need to get you more into Bon Jovi, but I guess this could be our song or whatever.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “This was not how I pictured any of this going.”

“Yeah,” Mirage nodded, pacing back and forth, the motion rocking you on his palm, “But at least we got a song, right? Most new couples got nothing.”

Despite your tiredness, you couldn’t help smiling at his straightforward manner of thinking, “Sure, Mirage. At least we have a song.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #transformers #maccadam #tf #transformers rise of the beasts #optimus prime #bumblebee #arcee #mirage #mirage x reader #mirage x you #falling #alison moyet

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foreverisntenough · 6 months

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- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestions, smut love bombing, occasionally sad, and kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 19 - ‘You’re Mine’

You were not as hopeless as your inner dialogue made you sound. You missed Trent so much your little heart hurt but you could live. You were busy with an array of things, you had gotten really active in local charities in Liverpool and initiatives especially Trent’s latest project launch. You had a degree from university that you didn’t really share with a lot of people around you but Trent obviously knew about it so your skill set came in handy. With the spare time you had you reached out to some contacts from your previous jobs you had put on hold back in New York. At the time you met Trent you were taking a little hiatus to just decompress. You were privileged enough to do that and well aware that is not something everyone could have the luxury of doing so once you got settled in England you started to connect with brands you worked with in the US that had UK offices. You got back into work freelance writing and styling. Your career before was in Fashion Editorial so it was an easy transition to get back into the swing of things. It made you feel better you were able to have a life outside of being Trent’s number one fan, even though that often was your favorite thing to be occupied with. Thankfully the two, Trent and work, were kept separated for the moment.

Before the tournament actually began you found that the little T- Bear Trent left for you just seemed to be with you 24/7. Tucked in bed with you every night, snuggled up on the couch watching television and as wonderful as that was, there was a certain part that this ‘T’ wasn’t able to… how do you put this… fulfill.

You were just about to whine down from the day but your hair and makeup were still done so you decided to take a few cheeky photos. A client, Agent Provocateur, a brand you adored, from an editorial piece you had worked on recently with them had gifted you some pieces of gorgeous lingerie. So you put on a little pink satin trimmed lace bra with a matching thong. The goal was to entice Trent obviously, but aside from that this set was making you feel confident which you seemed to be struggling with lately. You took some photos with the whole set on, some taking it off, some with it barely serving any purpose all while holding your new little bear. It was an incredibly sweet concept but far from innocent. You picked your favorites, ones you knew showed off things he’d enjoy so you sent them in a text unsolicited and unprovoked as you tucked into bed for the night. The little ‘delivered’ popped up under the sent photos and it quickly turned to ‘read.’ You knew he’d be excited to see them but there was always a little part of you that worried about how you actually looked in them, if he’d like them, and then of course about the potential consequences of sending such explicit photos when he’s at ‘work’ so you held your breath. He started to type and the three dots in the bubble appeared but stopped, started again only to disappear once again. The brief moment of confidence you had built started to waver. While you laid in your bed, a little disheartened, you put your phone far away from you to try to forget the situation until you heard the familiar ring of an incoming FaceTime.

“You’re such a tease, baby.” Trent rolled his perfect plump lips into a pout shaking his head but couldn’t really hold back the lustful grin he was really expressing. “I have training early tomorrow and you got me so fucking hard I can’t possibly get to sleep now.” He groaned. You sighed in relief that he did in fact really like your pictures.

“I’m sorry, T. I didn’t mean to bother you. I was just trying some things on and I thought you’d want to see. I didn’t mean to disrupt your night.” You feigned an apology playing coy.

“Nah, nah, nah you got me all worked up, miles away, sending me something I can’t have right now. You’re staying on the phone right now, helping me with this.” He sounded so commanding and it turned you on instantly.

“What can I help with, baby? To help, do you need me to keep this on or take it off?” You pulled the bra strap off your body to let it snap back against your skin.

“I wanna see more of you, beautiful. Take that off…Save that for when I can rip it off you myself and put your phone somewhere. I need to see all of you.” He instructed you so you leaned back against your headboard in front of your now propped up phone.

“This okay?” You asked craving his approval.

“Yeah, baby, just like that. You wanna spread your legs for me? Show me how wet you are.” He confirmed that was what he wanted to see. He began to stroke his cock from the tip to the base. His command had you stifling a moan.

“Fuck, you’re so hot. I miss you so much, T” you whimpered waiting for instructions till he asked for you to touch your clit, and then slowly slide your fingers into yourself. Just watching his cock get harder, hearing him pant on the other side of your phone had you inching closer to your release.

“Keep fucking that pussy,” he groaned. “Yeah, just like that, little faster, baby. Use your other hand and rub that clit again. Tell me how much you miss my cock.” His words had you crumbling. It was a cross between complete desperation, lust, and absence.

“I mi-miss it. I want your cock to fuck me, please. Ple..please I need your cock, T.” You whined. The tension and pressure released all at once causing you to whimper louder as waves of pleasure rippled through you. Your fingers coated in your slick. You couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, Trent repeatedly moaning your name as ropes of his cum spurted from his cock covering his abs. When you both came to, you smiled and wiggled in your bed giggling with him happy to feel the release but also to have achieved making him feel good from miles away.

“Fuck, that was so hot, you’re so beautiful, baby.” Trent said, laughing a little more while he cleaned himself up.

“I love you. Miss having you here with me so much.” You pouted. “Going to be able to sleep now?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll be okay now, thank you.” He chuckled. “I’ll be saving those pictures though, I might need them till I get you back.”

“Yeah, yeah but I think a call may be a little more mutually beneficial.” You giggled. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Love you, pretty girl. Miss you so much. Night.” Pushing his lips out for a virtual kiss before he hung up the phone.

A week later and many similar FaceTimes, you and Dianne were going to the Euro’s. You were traveling for the first match of the tournament. You and Dianne had a great relationship. You had essentially become like a daughter. She spoiled you, she always defended you against the boys teasing, you spent a lot of time shopping together or sitting pitch side. You appreciated her so much for all she did for you since you arrived in Liverpool and loved the idea of a little trip together. You checked into a lovely hotel and settled into your separate rooms but planned to meet up for a breakfast in the morning before you headed off for the stadium tomorrow.

It was the opening match of the group stage and the place was buzzing. You hadn’t seen England play in a big tournament like this yet as Trent’s girlfriend so you didn’t really know what to expect. You hoped you had adapted to life as a ‘wag’ at Liverpool but this was a whole new lot. You had made friends with a few girls you’d met at international friendly matches, the boys you knew on the team, and were excited to be able to see some girls from Liverpool whose partners were playing for other countries. That said as much as you had watched the Euros countless times before, to be there felt so strange. Thank god Dianne was with you. You both had opted to match in Alexander-Arnold white England kit shirts. You kept your outfit pretty casual not wanting to draw too much attention given the mayhem that seemed to be ensuing lately with your every move relatively near a football pitch. ‘Casual’ is all relative though when you are a little bit of a fashion girly so; you paired T’s jersey with R13 Crossover denim shorts, white and gray Prada ‘Downtown’ sneakers, a Mui Mui gray fleece hoodie in case you got cold, your new, very sweetly gifted, navy Dior saddle bag and what felt like just about every piece of gold jewelry you owned; you’d be remiss to not be wearing your prized possession; the white gold diamond Van Clef necklace Trent gave you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. That was always going to be on and the myriad of other little bits and bobs of jewelry he'd given you over time. You liked the look, it felt authentically you: low key but if you looked close enough the finer details told another story and you liked that.

You promised Dianne you’d help up her ‘MaG’ match day fits. You two had started an inside joke considering you were Mum and Girlfriend for Trent in the stands. It was cute and you were elated to help. Outside the stadium, you stopped a girl around your age to take a photo for you with Dianne to keep for a memory and you got that special photo but it also transgressed into plenty of questions because the girl was a fan which was sweet but in turn the exchange was shared to your least favorite part of the internet lately… social football gossip pages.

‘Okay, ICL, Trent Alexander-Arnold’s mum and his presumed girlfriend holding hands walking into the stadium was precious. The mystery girl is definitely no mystery to the fam’

The girl who kindly took a photo for you outside the stadium had also shared with a fan page another photo she had taken unsolicited as you walked away with Dianne.

Dianne held onto your hand still as you walked through the corridors of the stadium while masses of people swirled around you. It was insane. Complete chaos. A familiar chaos, but chaos nonetheless. England had a strong team this year and people were excited to say the least. You made it to your seats and your heart filled with relief seeing the tan skinned pretty pretty boy, smiling beaming, warming up ahead of the match. You leaned onto Diane’s shoulder in repose.

“It’s the best feeling in the world seeing him happy doing what he loves.” Leaning her head on top of yours.

“I know, I feel lucky I get to witness it. Even just to be a small part of the whole experience.”

“Hun, you’re a big part. Things changed when you came to England for him. He’s emotionally never been in a better place.” She cooed.

“I hope so, I just want to be there for him as much as I can. I try not to let my emotions ever sway his, like when I miss him. I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long.” You joked a little because you referring to ‘so long’ was really in reference to from birth to this very moment and having to share her son globally.

“One thing I always know, he does miss us when he’s away. He doesn’t need to tell us but you know he will always, even as focused as he is for work. More specifically, he misses you sweetheart…so much.” She placed a kiss on head. “You make that boy's life outside of all this so much better for him. Easier, happier, calmer, healthier, I could go on… so thank you hun.” Her words had your heart bursting. You always had an open relationship but to get such a verbal confirmation felt really nice.

When a Trent fan account finally published the photo of you and Dianne walking into the stadium together the response was different to the usual wrath of hate you’d receive from the public on the likes of gossip news sites. Instead these fans were enthused by the sighting. Commenting…

‘I feel like she’s probably super sweet if she’s that close with his mum’

‘Seeing her with his family makes me feel like she’s actually a serious girlfriend’

‘Okay, ngl, she actually looks too cool for him lol’

‘Matching with his mum is so precious’

‘Imagine Trent being your boyfriend 😭’

‘She’s with his mum 🥺’

You couldn’t have asked for a better opening match. England dominated and Trent got a decent amount of minutes and during his time on the pitch he managed to assist Bukaya for an unbelievable goal. It was just icing on the cake to see him after a couple weeks, have the result go their way, and to have him play well. When the final whistle blew it was such a special feeling being surrounded by people who all felt just the same as you. It was a big family just supporting boys that had worked so tirelessly to get here, to represent their country. When the team had wrapped up some post match duties they were able to come over to the stands to meet up with their families after the stadium had cleared out. Trent walked over with a smile that made your heart melt. You leaned over the railing to give him the biggest kiss. His arms reached up to grab your face, yours falling around his neck. You both hummed at the satisfaction of being back together. The kiss felt like fireworks for you, your whole body ignited feeling his lips on yours. Trent’s body on the other hand fell into complete comfort and relaxation soothed by your touch.

“Missed you so much, baby.” He whispered his lips ghosting over yours.

“My T” you giggled, pressing one more peck before pulling apart.

“Lemme climb on up, pretty girl.” He needed to get off the pitch over into the stands so he did haphazardly because his body was exhausted.

“You were amazing, sweetie. So proud of you Trenty.” Dianne cooed, giving him a big tight hug. Diane stayed standing but Trent collapsed onto a seat in the stands burnt out.

“T, honestly so good. You were incredible.” Leaning over to give him another kiss. You sat next to him and he wrapped his arms around your waist and laid his head onto your shoulder. He pressed light kisses to it and you did the same to his temple. Dianne stood there talking to you both about the match before going over to talk to Jude Bellingham’s mum, Denise, after spotting her now the match had finished. With the idea of being alone with you, despite being surrounded by friends, family and teammates, Trent sprawled out across a row of seats and laid his head in your lap. You caressed his face and played with his hair while you two gushed about how much you missed each other. He was practically stuck to you. He couldn’t pull his hands or lips off your skin if he tried. Kissing your wrists as they moved over his face, pulling your face down for proper kisses every once in a while, purring as your nails scratched his scalp.

“Trent, come here quick.” Dianne yelled for him evoking a disgruntled face on the boy who had gotten quite comfortable back under your touch. So he stood up and made his way over to talk to the two mums. Despite telling him you’d stay put, he dragged you with him, pushing you in front of him while his hands wrapped around your waist. He kept his chin on your shoulder listening to his mum while his idle fingers played with the belt loops of your shorts. You introduced yourself to Denise who was as kind as her sons were. You’d met and spent a lot of time with both her boys since you moved to England, knowing how polite they were, it made sense she’d be that way as well.

“Going to do a lunch after the group stage with them, five of us, yeah?” Dianne was informing you and Trent about a plan she and Denise had made to go out before the England Team were hosting a little party for all the families.

“That sounds lovely!” You cheerfully smiled liking the idea of getting time together away from other than just seeing the boys from a distance on the pitch. Trent didn’t say anything, he just smiled seeing you smile. He missed the way your cheeks warmed when you did. Jude waddled his way up the stairs of the seats sore from the game coming up to you all, first giving a hug and kiss to his mum, then to Diane and then looked at you, smiled, and then rolled his eyes at Trent who was lost still gazing at you.

“Gonna let go for a minute so we can all say hello?” Jude joked removing Trent’s hands stuck to your body.

“Hi Judey” you giggled giving him a big hug. Lately he and Trent were together most of the time when league play was suspended for breaks and he found himself back in England so you had gotten close. He was coming on your holiday after the tournament. The holiday had funnily become a little bit of a boys trip that included you and your best friend, but moreover Trent obviously, Marcel was coming, Jude, and Jobe, his brother, had decided to tag along, and then a few other boys. You didn’t mind but it was a little comical now. Jude could sense the humor in it and knew your relationship well enough that you just were dying to be laying on the beach with Trent, alone, unbothered, but that more than likely wouldn’t be the case now.

“All good? Ready for this to be over?” You pulled out of his hug rolling your eyes at his comment as he sat down in front of you leaning on the back of a seat a row below you.

“What do you mean! Very excited to be here for the next two weeks” you beamed sarcastically.

“It worries me how good you are at lying. It’s unsettling for my brother” he shoved at your shoulder while glancing at Trent.

“No, seriously! I am actually really excited. This is amazing though. You played so well, lucky to be supporting England.” You clarified.

“Yeah, just don’t open your mouth too much and you might pass as one of us.” Jude teased about your accent but was quickly reprimanded by Denise. She scolded Jude telling him to be nicer and you just smiled relishing in the mum's protection over you.

The boys had to go back to the dressing room after getting to say hello which was bittersweet and came all too quickly. Luckily in a few days time they’d be out of the group stages and would have a few days off so you could see Trent then but right now you had to say bye.

“Call me tonight?” You cooed, draping your arms around Trent’s neck, his arms coming to drop low on your waist pulling his jersey you had on up to caress your skin, dipping his hands into your shorts slyly.

“Course, baby. I’m just so glad you’re here.” He whispered, pulling your body a little closer to his pushing his hips into you.

“Wouldn’t be anywhere else, T.” You quietly said back pressing your nose against his.

“Love you, beautiful” he said with a little peck to your lips.

“I love you.” You sealed with another kiss. Your focus only on each other.

“Honestly, enough. I’m going without you.” Jude dramatically but in, hitting Trent’s arm before proceeding to stand up. Trent said goodbye to the mums, and you again with another swift but sweet kiss and a sneaky squeeze to your ass cheek before hurrying after Jude. He turned and winked at you before disappearing down the tunnel.

Later that evening, the England Instagram account posted a carousel of families reuniting after the first win of the tournament. None directly featured you, Diane or Trent but behind a photo posted of the Bellingham family were you and Trent having a cuddle while sharing a sweet kiss. There definitely was a fair share of comments who caught the affectionate interaction. In turn, cropped images of the photo, zooming in on you two, blew up all over socials again,

‘They’re not even trying anymore lol’

‘I’m happy for them 🥹’

‘Trent, I don’t need to see you cheating on me like this’

‘To kiss that sweaty man, I’d die’

‘Still just avoiding cameras, like fam, we know your together lol’

You and Diane continued going to the remaining group stage matches with England performing well. Trent even bagging a goal so the brief moments seeing him after the games were just so special. Being so close but unable to properly be alone and cuddle or kiss was slightly driving you both insane. So you spent the nights apart FaceTiming only mere hotels, short distances apart. Trent would vent about the games and you listened intently trying your best to not add unnecessary additions to the already noisy commentary he was surrounded by, you’d joke around, if there wasn’t a game directly the following day, things would get a little steamier on the call but overall you just repeated how much you missed being back at home together. More often than not you two just stayed on the phone till you both fell asleep making one of you wake up hours later and having to end the call that had been ongoing for hours of just your sleeping faces lit by phone screens.

As expected the England team finished top of their group so they were to have a few days off before the knockout stage began which meant you got to spend some time with your T. He did have to go to a short morning training session after last night's game but he was coming to meet you and his mum at your hotel to see you both after. You always grappled with sharing Trent but his mom was an exception, she deserved all his time and attention so you were hoping for a little sliver. He met you later in the day after the training session in a tea room of the hotel you and Dianne were staying at and joined you for brunch. Somehow if it was even possible, Trent walked in and looked even more beautiful than he ever did. He seemed to have that effect on you. It didn’t matter if it had been 5 minutes when he’d walk to the kitchen and back or days since you last saw him but when he’d return he somehow looked even more handsome than before. His mum stayed seated and she gave him a little side hug. You opted to stand up to give him a tight hug, you missed his warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and his familiar amber smell engulfed you. You could’ve stayed there forever. You kissed his neck gently, subtly, and quietly to keep it hidden from his mum but Trent wasn’t having that.

“Erm…I’d like a proper kiss, beautiful.” He beamed with a big smile, his lips pushing out waiting for you. His hands slid up from around your waist to hold both your cheeks. He placed a heart stopping kiss on your lips and you felt your legs almost give out. He was like a dream all the time. You finally sat and had a nice little meal filled with conversation more so about what was happening back at home than football, he wanted the break from the intensity. When Dianne excused herself to run to the restroom, Trent pulled your chair a little closer to his. He placed another kiss on your cheek.

“What’d you doing, pretty boy?” You cooed, unable to hide the smile he was pulling from you and the flush rising in your cheeks smitten by his flirty move.

“Wanna be closer to my girl” his hand came and wrapped around the back of your neck stroking his thumb over your exposed skin. In your Trents true fashion he had shown up with a little gift for you. “Got you a little something, baby.”

“T!! You don’t always have to do this!” You quipped in feigned annoyance. You gestured to the Dior Saddle bag you were using today again but it still always was a little exciting “I don’t need anything. I just need this.” You said, moving your hand over his resting on his leg, playing with each of his fingers slowly. It was true, just being close to him was enough for you but nevertheless he pulled out a little box.

“Just so you don’t forget where you’re loyaly lies on match days, yeah?” You opened the little jewelry box that had a Monica Rich Kosann locket that opened with two little pictures; one of you and T hugging in the tunnel at Anfield in his Liverpool kit, the other of you and him sharing a cute kiss in his England uniform. It just made you melt. He was so thoughtful and cute. “I know you're technically only half American but don’t you forget whose you are, beautiful. You’re all mine.”

“I’m pretty sure I know who I’ll be rooting for always. Always yours.” You said giggling, “but thank you, baby. I love it and I love you” leaning your head on his shoulder nuzzling into that familiar smell as his arm wrapped around you. He pressed light kisses on your head while you whispered little mushy things back and forth. When Dianne returned she smiled entering the main room seeing that her departure caused your chairs to move inexplicably closer. She liked to see that her very reserved boy found someone to be so comfortable, protective, confident and unequivocally in love with. She sat back down but it wasn’t long until she excused herself again.

“I need a little rest, a shower, and some time to get ready for tonight to keep up my ‘MaG’ looks so I’m going to head up.” She stood up from the table, placing her napkin down, pushing her chair in and placing her hand gently on yours briefly.

“MaG?” Trent questioned, looking between you and his mum for some context on the inside joke he was clearly left out of.

“Don’t worry about it” you laughed in Dianne’s direction telling her if she needed you to text you but she just wanted to let you and Trent to spend some time alone together.

“Thank you hun!” She kissed Trent’s head and squeezed your arm. “I’ll see you both a little later on before we meet with Denise and her boys.” You said your goodbyes but you stayed a little longer cuddled up as close as you can be in a restaurant setting picking at little sandwiches and sweets. Eventually, Trent and you finally left and went up to your room where he dramatically crashed on the bed, rushing to get under the covers like a little boy because he was ‘so tired.’

“T! T! Shoes! Gross!” You squealed, pulling at his arms to get him out and off your freshly cleaned hotel bedding.

“Wowwwww already asking me to take my clothes off. Eager much, baby?” He teased starting to get out of the bed begrudgingly.

“No…no, well” you blushed at his words. “I wouldn’t complain but I just meant if you could not get my bed all dirty I would appreciate it” you gave a genuine smile and a sweet giggle that made his heart falter.

“So you don’t want to be dirty in bed?” he sat up on the bed with a cheeky and devious smile, his legs hung off the side and he held his arms out for you. You moved over and stood between his legs, his hands caressed up your back pulling your shirt up with them, “With me? Not even me baby?” He gave you a look that made you cave immediately. You let him pull your shirt off over your head and after he did your hands reached out to pull his off.

“I missed this body. You’re so fucking beautiful. Been dreaming of this.” He said, dragging the strap of your bra down off your shoulder.

“Dreaming of what, T? What do you need?” You cooed with a sly smirk as your hands played with the waistband of the skirt you still had on.

“I need all of this…” sliding the mini skirt down your legs. “off right now.” He said gently, his words dripping like honey, his hands moving in slow motion. Making your skin burn.

You were standing in front of him completely naked now. He sat back resting on his arms behind him on the bed. The hotel room light cast over you illuminating the dips of your collarbones, highlighting the rise of your tits, the smoothness of your skin. Trent stared in awe just about drooling over his girl.

“Baby, I’m gonna need you here right now.” He said pulling your waist towards him. You sat with your legs on both sides of his and straddled him, feeling his prominent bulge growing harder and harder beneath your wet core.

“And I’m going to need these off, T.” You said pulling off his trousers. In quick motions all clothing was removed, Trent had flipped you over to be on top of you making out passionately, whispers and gasps of ‘I love you’ and ‘missed this so much’ muddled in between messy, sloppy, yearning kisses. You spit a little on your hand and gently gilded it up and down the length of his cock. His fingers slid between your folds gathering your wetness to play with your clit while he dipped two in to help stretch you out.

“Shit, that feels so good, sh-shit, I’m not gonna last very long, it's been a while without you. You’re so fucking tight” Trent was panting, losing focus at just the feeling of you.

“Baby, I need you so bad, can we just ju-just. Please I miss you so much T.” You were moaning as his languid fingers circled your clit begging for him to fuck you. His mouth nipped down your neck before his tongue circled and licked around your hard nipples eliciting a whimper of pleasure from you.

“Yeah, yeah, sweet girl. I’m gonna give you whatever you need.” He groaned. In swift motions he slowly aligned his cock with your core and slid into you. You both gasped at the contact. He moved slowly inch by inch but he just wanted to get as deep as possible. He missed this feeling like nothing else. His thick cock hit your g spot almost immediately once he was in. He felt so deep and the stretch of him being back inside you had your mind turn to complete mush. You lost any control you had when he was fully inside. The force and pace of his thrusts increased and so did the volume of both your moans. “You’re such a good girl, so fucking wet for me.” He said hearing the sounds of your slick as he dragged his cock slowly out of you and watched himself push all the way back thrusting harder. Your legs wrapped around him. You were whining in pleasure. Your lips parted gasping at the sensation of him. You both were moaning inexplicable phrases of praise, love, and adoration. You were completely obsessed with each other and how good the sex was only amplified it.

“Oh my fu-fucking god, T, you feel so good.” You felt tears fill your lash line. His cock rammed deep inside you again and again, hitting a spot only he knew, while his finger pressed rough circles around your clit. He dipped his head a little and played with your nipples more, pulling at them and biting. You could barely handle the sensory overload so you bit harshly onto his shoulder to try to quiet your moans.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s so perfect for me. Taking me so well.” He growled moving to nibble at your ear, his hot breath on your skin had your orgasm approaching faster and faster. He pulled back nearly all the way out and hammered back in. Tears started to roll down your cheek. Your arms wrapped around his body so tight your nails were digging into his skin leaving deep crescent marks while Trent continued to fuck you at an inhuman pace.

“I missed you, I missed this. You feel so fucking good. I want this forever.” You babled as your legs started to tremble. Your orgasm was getting closer and closer. Your eyes rolled back as you heard him moan your name again, again, and again.

You were getting lost in the pleasure that your T was giving to you while he was just as infatuated by your body and the sounds you were making had him fighting to not cum without you getting to orgasm first.

“You have me forever.” He whispered barely getting the words out softly in your ear. In a split second you felt your pussy spasm at the tenderness of his words and his rough strokes. You soaked his cock completely when you felt his release fill you up so much, it began to seep out while he was still inside. He laid on top of you for a while before he spoke again.

“I’m so addicted to you, beautiful. Can’t be away from you like this.” He murmured laying on your chest completely exhausted

“I guess we’re both addicts then” you giggled tracing your fingers up his spine. He continued laying there just holding you. You kissed him slowly. You were both so tired in the hotel room. “My sleepy, sleepy, needy boy.” You cooed, pressing your lips on his warm skin. You were so authentic with each other. Being back together felt like a saccharine summertime daydream. Feeling your New York daydream turned into your reality. Your love was undiluted, nothing felt better than being physically connected like this .

“We have to go soon, baby.” Trent finally picked his head up to nuzzle into your neck placing kisses all over your skin. If you could bottle this feeling forever you would, it was worth more than its weight in gold.

“I just want another cuddle, pleaseee” you whined childishly and in turned caused Trent to just let all his body weigh on top of you and wrap his arms so tight around you thought you couldn't breathe but the sound of his joyful laugh had you able to completely disregard the bone crushing pressure and just relish in the moment. You wanted to hear him happy, you wanted to see that beautiful smile pull across his face, the smile lines wrinkle, his little dimples appear so you let it ensue. Eventually you both got up and started to get dressed to meet with the Bellinghams; Denise, Jude, and Jobe at the restaurant and to meet Dianne downstairs at the hotel.

Trent needed to shower but you opted not to because your hair would take too long to do if you did which disappointed Trent because he claimed he needed your ‘help’ but in reality he just wanted another round of messing about to his disappointment you held your ground. Instead you began your skincare and makeup at the vanity in the hotel bathroom before moving back to the bedroom and sitting with a pout looking at your suitcase confused.

“What do you think I should wear? I don’t know Denise that well and I don’t know what people have said about me so I don’t want to like… I don’t know, mess up.” You nervously babbled rummaging through your suitcase on the floor.

“You look beautiful in anything.” Trent picked you up off the ground to give you a hug still wet from his shower.

“That’s incredibly unhelpful, T, seriously.” He placed a kiss on your forehead to try to calm your nerves. “Erm… I’m wearing this,” said showing you the outfit he had layed out of the bed. “If that helps at all.”

“Baby… I picked that out though” so you both started laughing.

Because you were going to the England team’s event after you wanted to be a little ‘on theme’ but not exactly sporting Saint George’s cross. You picked a pair of white linen trousers from Cult Gaia, a navy and white striped knit tank from Kule, paired with a Bottega Veneta mini sunrise bag in red, you also opted to bring a Jacquemus denim jacket in case you got cold. Oh! And of course shoes so red Manolo Blahniks were the choice. Your boobs were on display a little bit from not wearing a bra with the top but having a jacket would be a good cover. The pants fit your waist perfectly and when standing showed off your incredible figure. You wanted to be casual so your shoe choice was flats. Once you were dressed you walked over to help fix the collar of Trent’s shirt. He wore tailored khaki cargo style pants, a white t-shirt, a Rhude button up open overtop and a pair of Louis Vuitton trainer sneakers.

“You’re so so so handsome. It’s a little unfair.” You said as he stood in front of a full length mirror inspecting his outfit and you went and wrapped your hands around his biceps and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“I have to keep up with you don’t I?” He cheekily said, squeezing his hands around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss.

You went to the lobby and Dianne asked if you wanted a photo, well she wanted one of you two, you obliged not particularly upset about capturing memories. Trent and you took a few and Dianne gushed over how beautiful she thought you both were. You had Dianne send them to you and Trent but neither of you posted the photo. Your camera rolls were filled with photos like this that never saw the light of day only when they were printed and hung in the house or a rare occasion where you’d post a more subtle pic of you holding hands walking down the street in your fits like you did tonight.

You held hands as you walked down cobble streets till you saw the Brummie Bellingham family waiting outside the restaurant for dinner. The group of the three boys, two mums, and yourself filed into the restaurant and per usual heads began to turn. Trent was one thing but Jude out in public was another animal… the two of them together; Pandora’s box. You sat at a table nestled in the back of a nice restaurant, you were relieved your outfit of choice was appropriate. To no one’s surprise, you sat close to Trent. One part of the table had a booth for seating and you took his lead so Trent helped you slid in before he followed. Your thighs were touching immediately, one hand wrapped around your waist low with his thumb in between the fabric of your trousers and your skin. The other gripped high on your leg till he needed to use it to look at a menu. Trent, Jude, Jobe honed in on some conversation regarding a referee error that happened in another countries group match. You nodded your head following along, you had seen the story, and Trent had explained it at length. Trent pulled on your waist to get you to be a little closer to him so you gave into his wishes and placed your head on his shoulder. He placed a kiss onto your hair in between sentences. Dianne and Denise were talking about something you couldn’t really hear but they were engrossed in their own back and forth until Dianne tapped at your hand that was resting on the table top.

“Hmm?” You picked up your head with a smile turning towards her. Trent unphased with his hand still gripping you tight.

“Come talk with us sweetheart.” She cooed, gesturing her head towards the other side of the table. You didn’t need his permission but you looked at Trent peeling his fingers off your waist to slide over to talk to the mums before whispering in his ear.

“Okay?” You asked with no real expectation for an answer you just wanted to note what you were doing.

“You can only listen to so much hun.” Denise spoke with a smile you hadn’t really seen her crack yet. Another mum of only boys made you nervous.

“It’s fine, I think when I hit the 15th time discussing the same call, I start to check out a little.” You giggled picking up a glass of wine, bringing it slowly to your lips holding it there a little longer after your sip.

“I understand that, imagine over 20 years of football chaos all day every day. It’ll never end.” Dianne and Denise laughed reminiscing about going from grassroots teams to the biggest stadiums in the world with their little boys.

“I don’t mind. I do actually love football…” you paused and giggled a little before your gaze drifted away from them to Trent. “Maybe not to the same extent of course but it’s nice when people are passionate about something, really love, devote, and care about it.” Your eyes fell back towards them but more so to the table where you played with the rings on your fingers. Trent felt your gaze but missed the connection so he reached over a little and linked his pinky with your hand that was on the seat of the booth before giving you a soft smile. Denise and Dianne watched the exchange and the way your words softened talking about being passionate and what it meant to really love something catching that it wasn’t maybe only about football but about someone sitting at the table who was playing football.

“I heard you followed football before you moved here, is that right?” Denise asked, giving you a sweet smile.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s always been something my dad and I bonded over, had a connection with, I actually played till I was around 16 or so but didn’t really want to play at university so it faded out but when I got older following a team with my dad really kept us close and that’s important to me. We’ve created some of the best memories together at matches.” You rambled a bit, maybe it was the wine, or just panic trying to speak to Denise but you felt a little on edge.

“You did not play footie! That’s bullshit.” Jude’s head turned towards you.

“Jude…” Denise gave a stare that if it was directed at you, you’d probably cry but he just shrugged.

“Sentiment still stands, I don’t believe that.” Jude scoffed.

“Nah, she did! Kept the little secret in her back pocket for a while.” Trent confirmed it was in fact true with a little chuckle.

“Okay, well I wasn’t going to walk up to you people who do it professionally and be like ‘oh I played too!’ That’s embarrassing.” You sarcastically swayed your head back and forth making fun of how ridiculous it would’ve been.

“It still would’ve been interesting to know.” Jobe piped up and it made you smile. You just wanted to pinch his cheeks but he was older than that, definitely not as naive as he played but truly was adorable.

“Thanks, Jobe” you gave him a heartfelt smile. “Jude, you just listening in on our conversation?” You teased picking up your fork and pointing it at him.

“Nah, nah, you’re not all that interesting.” Jude pointed his fork at you emphasizing ‘you’ while he rolled his eyes.

“I’d say otherwise but each their own.” You imitated the same shrug he did earlier.

“You’ve had quite a whirlwind couple of years though sweetheart, at least from what I’ve heard. What did you do before you moved to the UK?” Denise, now interested in how you ended up at this dinner table and that there were things her boys were even still learning about.

“Oh, um, I went to university for a degree and then worked in fashion for a little and in what felt like a blink of an eye I ended up here.” You smiled, oversimplifying your backstory.

“Wow, Hun! Pretty, smart, funny, pushes back against my Jude. Trenty, you’ve got a good one.” Denise cooed looking at Trent whose eyes were still fixed on you from when you were speaking.

“Yeah, absolutely perfect. Worth getting her to move countries innit” Trent gushed eyes still stuck on you before sliding your body back over to him to wrap his arms around your frame placing a little peck on your neck.

“Done well” Dianne cooed, smiling at Trent’s clear obsession while taking a sip from her glass.

“Well then you’ve suddenly become my default to keep all the boys in line on this Greece holiday.” Denise joked a little but it was laced with a bit of seriousness.

“I always do, she’s been looking after mine for a bit now.” Dianne creased, the two mums were having a laugh themselves so you let it play out. The bulk of dinner wrapped up and Denise and Dianne decided they’d let the four of you get up to some nonsense without them so they said their goodbyes, hugs and kisses, and started to walk away from the table.

“Di, he is in love with that girl.” Denise quietly spoke to Dianne as they walked.

“Oh, I’m aware. It’s mutual too, think she’s more shy about the affection because he’s in his element or spaces he’s already familiar with but it’s totally infatuation all the time”

“Think they want to get married?” Denise asked the blatant question.

“I know Trent would, he’s slyly mentioned looking at rings but I keep my mouth shut.” Diane smiled just keeping her eyes forward as Denise glanced back at the table.

“It’s the only way we get any information now, just being quiet I swear” Denise laughed at the reality of their situations.

“She’s so good for him and he’s good to her. They make each other so happy, their house is gorgeous and so warm. It makes my heart full that they built this all from some whirlwind interaction.” She paused having a think. “Oh, god, you know what, yeah I’d really want that for them. Whole family loves that girl to bits.” Dianne babbled getting caught in the idea of what the future had in store for you and Trent.

You and the three boys decided to grab the check but go to the bar, you didn’t really need to sneak Jobe in with you like you normally would with a younger boy just being with Jude and Trent was like going anywhere with a free pass so it was no problem.

On cue, a few girls approached asking for photos with the boys so you happily helped take some for them. They wanted individual photos with Jude and then Trent. When one girl was posing for her photo with Trent she was a little bit more handsy than you cared for but it was only a photo so you bit your tongue. She wrapped her arm around his waist and placed her palm over his chest like a couple may pose. Jobe gripped your shoulder with his hand sensing the tension as you tapped away taking the photos on her phone. Even he knew it was probably a step too far on the girls' part. The other girl waiting for her turn for photos with Jude and Trent squealed a little.

“Literally you look like a couple! You’d be so cute together.” The fan said with a cheeky wink to her friend. Jude was quick to cut the encounter, none of you wanted to make a big deal but it still didn’t make you feel great.

“Alright darling, you want your picture with me too or just Trentski, C’mere” Jude cooed with false flirtation. The girl detached and Jobe said he’d take the remaining photos. You were polite and smiled to the girls and let them know if they needed you to take more you would but Trent walked up to you and draped his arms over your shoulder, his hands caressing the back of your head before you could really do anything else.

“Getting jealous, pretty girl?” Pressing his nose against yours. “Hmm, baby?” His lips pulled into a sly smile. You leaned in and rested your head on his chest before you started pressing light kisses over his shirt up to his collarbone and then his neck, all the way to his ear.

“Don’t like seeing you with someone else,” you quietly admitted. “You’re mine, baby.” You pouted your lips, he couldn’t see but could probably feel them roll against his skin. He grabbed both your cheeks and held your face out in front of his. You innocently looked up at him through your lashes. He teased you a little bit pressing small kisses to your neck now the same way you did to him but his were heavy with a more sensual motive. He heard you purr a little at the sensation so he took it a step further and began whispering against your sensitive skin about what he was going to do to you back in your hotel room; his words interspersed by kisses. You tried to hold back a moan before pulling him in for a proper kiss needing one to hold you over knowing you were in for a long night of cheeky hand placements and sultry kisses until you made it back to the promised land i.e your hotel room.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! Comment or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Next Part - Chapter 20 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #you’re mine fic #taa x reader

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

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All These Years [Part 15: "What If...?"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 4k

a/n: Some hope finally shows up in this installment! There's still a lingering bit of angst though, but I feel like overall this one is hopeful and a little bit frustrating. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks @mattmurdocksstarlight @yeonalie

Picking up a fry from your plate, you took a bite as your eyes wandered around the outdoor dining space. The restaurant you and your co-worker Alicia had met up at for lunch today was as busy as it usually was on a Saturday afternoon. The pair of you had gotten incredibly lucky to even snag a table outside to eat at this time. Despite the bright sunshine of the early November day, the light breeze and the overhead canopy made the restaurant’s patio an absolutely perfect spot this afternoon. Even with the excess noise of the various conversations going on all at once among the tables around you, you felt content. Something you’d noticed you’d felt ever since moving here, even if it often felt like something was missing from LA.

Shortly after you had moved to Los Angeles, you’d quickly connected with Alicia in your office. She had grown up in and around LA and had immediately taken it upon herself to acquaint you with all the best coffee shops, restaurants, and beach spots. She had even taken you out to the best clubs and bars for many a drunken night. The pair of you had quickly become fast friends which had certainly made your transition across the country vastly easier.

From across the table, you saw Alicia lift her glass of iced tea, drawing it to her lips as she eyed you. You knew what was coming next, because she always delved into the real conversation once you’d both gotten into your food. Raising a brow at her, you expectantly waited for the questions to come.

“So how was last night?” she asked, taking a sip from her glass. “Was this one good? Bad? Mind blowing?”

You couldn’t fight back the laugh, shaking your head as you popped the rest of the fry into your mouth and chewed. Last night you’d had a date–one of many since you’d moved to Los Angeles a little over four months ago. The first few you’d gone on hadn’t amounted to much, ending early and being entirely uneventful. Initially all you found yourself thinking about was Matt’s face and how heartbroken he’d looked when you’d left him back at your apartment that day all those months ago. But as the weeks gradually wore on since you’d been here, you’d repeatedly told yourself that you came here to try to live your life. Slowly you eventually found yourself becoming more open to dating. Because you weren’t about to turn around and run back to New York solely because you missed Matt.

Which you did. That hollow ache in your chest returned with a vengeance every time you thought about him. You missed Matt. Missed him even more because you’d only gotten one single message from him shortly after you arrived here. It had been a text, too. Something Matt never generally sent you because you knew he hated the voice to text application on his phone. All it said was ‘I hope you find your happiness.’ You hadn’t even responded back because every time you re-read his message you broke down in tears.

You hadn’t spoken to Matt in months because of it. You’d become too afraid to reach out to him the more time passed on, too. And whether it was because it hurt him too much, or he thought you didn’t want to speak to him, or he was trying to give you space, or he wanted nothing to do with you now, you never heard from him, either. Though you did speak to Karen and Foggy often. Karen had started her first semester at Columbia and was working on her law degree with the help of Matt and Foggy. She was also still trying to juggle working in the office with them when she could throughout the week. And Foggy apparently had been getting more serious with Marci while also keeping you updated about how well Nelson and Murdock had been doing.

But neither of them ever told you much about Matt, and you were always too afraid to ask.

So you’d found yourself going on dates. Sleeping around a bit more than you ever had before. You figured your old roommate at Columbia would’ve been proud of you with how much sex you’d been having for once in your life. You sure knew Alicia enjoyed hearing the stories every Saturday afternoon over lunch.

“He was good,” you said, answering Alicia’s question as you picked up another fry. “I certainly wouldn’t say mind blowing, though. I don’t think I’ve come across mind blowing sex yet.”

“Well that’s a damn shame,” she replied, setting her glass back onto the table. “So if you had to pick between LA men and New York men, which do you prefer?”

Your eyebrows shot up onto your forehead at her question. Across the table, Alicia sent you a mischievous grin before taking a bite out of her panini.

“That’s sort of hard to answer,” you told her, biting off another piece of fry. “I mean, what am I judging this by? The amount of men that want to have sex with me? How attractive I find them? Their general attitudes towards relationships?”

“All of it,” she said as she swallowed her bite of food. “I want an overall answer and a breakdown for each category.”

You laughed at her, shaking your head. “What is this? One of Scott’s impromptu meetings?” you teased back. “At least he gives me smoothies made out of lawn clippings before he shakes me down for those.”

Alicia snorted in response, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tried not to spit out her food while she laughed. It was true though, your boss here was a big fan of impromptu meetings. And also green smoothies.

“Okay, if I had to pick an overall winner solely based on those categories, I’d say Los Angeles men have New York men beat,” you answered. “But only because they take the win in both sex and physical appearance–which I’m thinking is because most of them spend their time shirtless at the beach. And apparently all the men out here want to do is just have sex. But that means most men here aren’t too interested in dating. Or at least, the guys I keep meeting aren’t. They just want a quick hookup. Or a no-strings attached casual thing with zero commitment.”

“Well you seem to be enjoying those,” Alicia pointed out. “With the amount of flings I’ve heard you having.”

You shrugged a shoulder, your focus dropping down to your plate of half-eaten food. Your stomach knotted a little as Matt’s face came to your mind. You missed that soft, warm smile he used to shoot you when you entered a room. You even missed the shit-eating grin he always made as he threw out one of his sarcastic jokes.

“What?” she asked, leaning forward towards you and catching your eye again. “You mean to tell me the plethora of sex isn’t what you want?”

You shrugged again. “No, not really,” you heard yourself admitting. “I wish the men I met were more interested in second dates that weren’t just an excuse for more sex. I feel like I haven’t actually gotten to know anyone on a date since I’ve been here. It’s always just empty flirtatious banter and sex. There’s no… depth .”

“Mmm,” Alicia hummed with a nod, her focus returning to her food. “Now you know why I’m still single.”

You sighed lightly, picking up a fry and toying with it. Last night had been fun, but honestly you were tired of repeatedly going on first dates that didn’t go anywhere. And you were starting to get tired of having sex and then one of you inevitably needing to get dressed and disappear immediately afterwards. It truthfully wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted something more .

“All the LA men can’t compare to the one you left back in New York, though, can they?”

Your attention shifted back to Alicia as her question hung heavy in the air. She was staring at you with that knowing look on her face as she sat back in her chair.

“I didn’t leave him, exactly,” you corrected her. “He wasn’t–wasn’t exactly mine in the first place to leave.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Not the point,” she said. “You miss him. All the sleeping around and constant dates–it was either to forget him or to try to find someone else. But you can’t, can you? I see it on your face every time we talk about your love life.”

“I mean I was trying to find someone out here,” you admitted. “I was open to it. But it just doesn’t seem like the men I meet are open to anything real .”

“Or,” Alicia said, pointing a finger at you, “you’re not really willing to try to find someone else because you’re still in love with Mr. NYC Lawyer.”

You shook your head quickly. “I don’t think that’s–”

“Admit it,” Alicia said, cutting you off. “You’re in love with him still.”

“Well I mean it’s–it’s not like you just fall out of love with someone,” you told her. “Especially when it’s been years that you’ve had feelings for the person.”

“You know what I don’t get?” she asked you, picking her iced tea back up. “Why you both don’t try long distance dating. I mean, it’s not convenient, but like…if there’s something there, why aren’t either of you trying?”

“Because he was with someone before I left,” you reminded her. “He had been considering proposing to her.”

“That was months ago now,” she pointed out. “Why are you holding back?”

“I–I haven’t heard from him,” you admitted.

Alicia pointed a finger at your cell phone sitting on the table beside your water. Your eyes guiltily dropped down towards it.

“You’ve got a phone and perfectly functioning fingers,” she said. “You’re just as capable of reaching out as he is. You’re just scared.”

Eyes lingering on the phone beside you, you felt nerves suddenly shaking loose in your gut. Because she was right. You were scared to reach out to Matt.

“Maybe I am,” you whispered.

Because what if he had moved on? What if he’d gotten back with Erica and things had gotten serious? Or he’d met someone new and he’d fallen in love with them? Or if he had somehow grown pissed that you’d left him and now he wanted nothing to do with you?

Or what if he still wanted you as much as you wanted him? What then?

A knock on his office door caused Matt to stop his typing, his head swiveling in the direction of the noise. He knew it was Karen and not Foggy standing there wanting to speak with him, he could tell from the scent of her shampoo and light perfume that was still noticeable past the smell of food lingering on her–she must’ve picked lunch up for the office. He noticed her heart was beating a little nervously in her chest though, which had Matt’s eyes narrowing curiously behind his glasses.

“Hey, I grabbed lunch from that deli nearby,” she said, her tone a little timid. “And I uh, was hoping to talk to you and Fog about something. If that’s alright?”

“Sure,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair and focusing on her. “What’s going on, Karen?”

“Well I–I was hoping to talk to you both,” she repeated nervously. “Fog’s over at my desk and I can’t actually stay for lunch because I have that exam today.”

“Right, yeah,” Matt said, adjusting his tie. “I forgot you had that today.”

“Yeah, I figured you and Foggy have had a busy week,” she continued. “That’s why I grabbed you guys lunch. I had a feeling you both would work right through it if I didn’t and you guys need to take better care of yourselves during the day. You’re both running yourselves ragged.”

Matt rose from his chair, making his way around his desk. He heard the way Karen turned and began making her way back towards her own desk in the main part of the office. Matt followed out of the room behind her.

“Well you certainly need to take care of yourself, too,” he pointed out. “You’ve been doing a lot for us around here while still focusing on your classes.”

“Yeah,” Foggy cut in, “you really do need to take a few minutes to yourself.”

Matt heard Karen’s hands fidgeting together as she expelled a light laugh. He could hear the nervous edge to it though, which only further had Matt wondering what was going on with her.

“It’s funny you should say that, actually,” Karen began. “Because as you both know, I’ve been really busy between this first semester at Columbia and keeping things running as smoothly as possible here at the firm.”

“And you’ve been doing amazing at both,” Matt assured her immediately.

“You’re a literal saint and we don’t deserve you,” Foggy added.

Matt could feel the heat rising in Karen’s cheeks as she blushed. The nervous edge didn’t leave her though as she stopped beside her desk. To Matt it sounded like her pulse was quickly increasing again.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Karen said carefully. “I’m coming up on winter break and I had this crazy idea and I was hoping you guys would be okay with it.”

“Shoot,” Foggy replied instantly.

Matt heard Karen say your name, aware that she’d sent him an apologetic look as she did. Foggy and Karen didn’t often talk about you around him since you’d left. They always told him that he tended to get quiet and moody whenever they did. And hearing it now, uttered when he wasn’t expecting it, had his heart clenching in his chest.

“We uh, we’ve been talking about me coming out to visit her for a few weeks now,” Karen continued slowly, her focus shifting back and forth between himself and Foggy as she spoke. “I know we all have–have missed her, but I also know you guys are too busy here to just disappear on a trip to LA. But I was hoping that…you both wouldn’t mind if I took a few days? To go see her? Get away from the cold weather here for a bit and take a break from all the stress these past few months have brought me?”

“How long are you thinking?” Foggy asked.

“Like…four or five days?” Karen nervously answered. “Basically a week?”

Matt could hear the way Foggy’s attention shifted to him across the room, his eyebrows raising. But he also could hear the way his own heart was rapidly pounding in his chest. He tried hard not to think about you too much, though admittedly he failed often at that. You were almost a near constant thought on his mind unless he was buried in work or busy as the Devil late at night.

He missed you. Every second of every day it felt like. He’d had absolutely no interest in trying to date since you’d left, always ridiculously hoping today would be the day you decided to come back to Hell’s Kitchen. But he knew you weren’t going to come back. From what he’d gathered from Karen and Foggy, you were enjoying the LA weather and your new job. You were doing good. And he was happy that you were, even if there was a sharp pain that physically shot through his chest whenever he thought about you.

He hadn’t heard from you since you moved, either. Matt hadn’t known what to make of that. He’d sent you a text, not wanting to overstep his boundaries by calling you, but also not wanting to just let you go from his life. But you’d never reached out to him after that. Not in the five months since you’d been gone. You spoke to Karen and Foggy every day, though. He knew there was a group chat that you three were always texting in, but Matt wasn’t a part of it. He did his best to try and not let it bother him, but it did. Because he still wanted to be someone in your life, but he felt like he’d finally told you that he loved you only just to lose you completely.

“What do you think, Matt?” Foggy asked, drawing him back to the moment. “I think we can manage a week without her, don’t you?”

Matt cleared his throat, thankful the glasses on his face were hiding the tears building in his eyes. He nodded quickly, his hands landing on his hips.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, his voice off even to his own ears. “When were you thinking of going, though?”

“Next week?” Karen asked hopefully.

“Oh,” Matt whispered.

“We should still be fine,” Foggy said quickly. “I don’t think this case will go on past this week, we’re nearing the end of it. So yeah, I say go have fun in LA. Say hi to our girl for us. Maybe even get her to do a video chat sometime because I haven’t seen her in forever and I miss her.”

Matt stood there, his fingers digging into his own hips uncomfortably. He missed the sound of your voice. Missed the scent of you. Missed the feel of you in his arms even if he could only ever seem to recall you crying in them lately.

“Yeah, we’ll–we’ll be fine,” Matt muttered, his mind still on thoughts of you.

“Okay, great!” Karen said, her tone bright as the nervous edge dissipated. “I have to run to my exam, but once I finish that I’m going to call her and get things figured out. Book a flight and all of that.”

“You deserve the time to relax!” Foggy told her. “You’ve been working your ass off!”

Matt was barely present as he wished Karen good luck and thanked her for lunch before she was leaving the office in an excited buzz. He longingly wished it was him getting to go see you in LA. He wished that you’d actually want him to come visit. He doubted you would.

The second Karen had left, Foggy hadn’t wasted a moment before going through the paper bag of food on her desk, digging out what Matt could easily tell was a meatball sub along with Matt’s usual turkey and avocado sandwich. Admittedly he didn’t have much of an appetite though, not after Karen had brought you up.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Foggy asked, cutting through the silence that had fallen in Karen’s absence. “You’ve got that sad puppy look on your face.”

Matt quickly cleared his throat again, shaking his head as he reached out, accepting the sandwich Foggy had offered to him.

“I do not have a sad puppy look,” he muttered.

“You do, but that’s not the point here,” Foggy countered. “Karen brought her up and now you’re thinking about her. It’s all over your face, Matt. You miss her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Matt replied, turning and making his way back to his office.

“Yes it does!” Foggy snapped.

Matt stopped mid-step at Foggy’s unexpected outburst. His hand tightened around the sandwich, his teeth grinding together. He could feel the burn of tears in his eyes but he fought them down. He didn’t want to have this conversation again with Foggy. He was tired of it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated firmly. “We’ve been over this countless times, Fog. She made her choice. She knows how I feel and she’s never reached out to me. And she’s–she’s happy where she is now. So I’m happy for her. End of story.”

“ Call . Her ,” Foggy forcefully ordered.

Something snapped inside of Matt as he spun on his heel, a mixture of hurt and anger coursing through him. He focused on his best friend, his shoulders squared as the words flew from his lips.

“And tell her what , Fog?” Matt growled, voice low. “That I miss her? That I want her to come back to Hell’s Kitchen and be with me? That I fall asleep every night wishing she was there beside me instead of falling asleep in an empty bed night after night?” He took a step closer to Foggy, feeling the fight quickly falling out of his friend with the more he said. “Am I supposed to beg her, Fog? Guilt her? Pester her until she gives up what she wants? Is that what you want me to do?”

“No,” Foggy weakly replied, shaking his head. “No, Matt it’s not. But–”

Matt held up a hand, cutting his friend clean off. “No, Fog. She’s happy. She’s told you and Karen as much. And I–I love her,” he continued, the words coming out sounding as broken as Matt felt inside. “Which means I won’t ruin this for her. I’m not going to ask anything of her. She knows how I feel.”

“But what if she misses you, too?” Foggy questioned him earnestly. “What if she still loves you, Matt? What if she’s been in LA wondering why you haven’t reached out to her?”

“I reached out to her,” Matt countered.

“You sent her a text, Matt,” Foggy pointed out flatly. “ One text. You’ve never even tried to call her.”

“She’s never tried to call me,” Matt shot back. “She never even responded to my text, Fog. I told her I have loved her for years and she left me. She left . I think she made it quite clear what she wants.”

Matt heard Foggy drop his sandwich onto Karen’s desk, his heavy footfalls hurriedly making their way over to him. He tracked Foggy’s movements with his head, surprise jolting through him when Foggy grabbed onto the lapels of his suit coat with both hands firmly.

“I want you to listen to me loud and clear, man, because I’m tired of saying this to you,” Foggy began. “She’s been in love you with you for years , Matt. That does not go away over a few weeks or months! Call her !”

Matt’s lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to control his emotions. His throat felt like it was closing up on him; the subject of you always had this effect on him, even before he'd known you’d felt the same way.

“What if–” he began, stopping when he struggled to get the words to come out. “What if she’s moved on with someone else, Fog? What if she doesn't want me? What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

Foggy lightly shook Matt by the lapels of his suit coat as if he was trying to shake some sense into him. Matt frowned at the gesture immediately, but that didn't deter Foggy’s enthusiasm.

“But what if she hasn’t moved on to someone else?” Foggy countered. “What if she does want to talk to you, Matt? What if she’s still in love with you?”

“But I’m never going to move to LA,” Matt reminded his friend. “And she’s happy there. How would anything even work between us? Because I will not ask her to choose me, Fog. You know I won’t.”

“Maybe she would choose you because she wants to, buddy,” Foggy told him gently. “Just–just give it some thought, okay? Don’t wait another almost seven years to actually try with her. Because you’ll never know what could’ve been if all you do is keep playing this game of what if’s, Matt.”

Foggy’s words settled in Matt’s mind, the weight of them too heavy to ignore. Matt still felt uncertain though, because surely if you wanted him in your life you’d have tried to keep him there, right? But you hadn’t tried at all. So what did that mean?

Nodding solemnly back at Foggy, Matt said, “I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to burst into her life and ruin what she already has going on. If she’s been trying to move past this–past me –it’s better if I leave her alone and let her.”

Turning back around, Matt quietly ducked his head and made his way back to his office. A myriad of what if’s were in fact running through his mind as he closed the door behind himself. But as he made his way over to his chair behind his desk, settling into it, there was one question that kept repeating louder than the others.

What if he was misreading you again?

[END NOTES]

Yes! More end notes! Those of you who follow me on AO3 know how much I love them 😅

We get BOTH point of views in this installment! It's been about four/five months now since Reader has moved to LA as we see here and she is certainly out trying to live her best life, but as probably expected, she hasn't forgotten about Matt entirely. While she's been out having fun and quite a few one-night stands, she's quickly realizing she wants something serious. The pointless sex isn't cutting it for her. And Matt is apparently in Hell's Kitchen pining over Reader while she's gone, too. But...neither of them are talking to each other. And both are seemingly a bit too stubborn or scared to reach out. Even if their friends are trying to knock some sense into them. But Karen is soon on her way to visit Reader in LA, so maybe her visit and a certain video chat will help get these two talking again?

The next installment for this series is just over half written already, but I still have no title for it yet. I'm not sure how soon I'll post it, but we are very much nearing the comfort and happy parts of this series! And smut. I did promise eventual smut for this one.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock series #daredevil #daredevil angst

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yrobdtsrv-rei · 21 days

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All Subtext I Could Find for Hamilton and Laurens' Relationship in Hamilton: The Musical

Since you guys asked for it, here it is!!

By the way, I've only gotten these details via being hyperfocused/staring at Laurens and Hamilton mostly throughout the musical's Act 1. Also overanalyzing their actions.

Again, Lin could've made this relationship more explicit, but he chose not to. They could've had a song, a SINGULAR SONG, but nothing? Just some light subtext that could be interpreted as platonic? Okay. I'll play your game.

If the ship was better intergrated in the story, maybe if there was a song explaining their relationship, or, literally anything Laurens-centric, I'd gurantee Laurens wouldn't be as UwU turtle boy twinkified by the fandom, honestly.

Because there's barely any OFFICIAL lams content in the musical to nimble on, I shall provide it myself by overanalyzing content. That is what I (try to) do best, after all. And this ship has been taking over my brain.

Also if there was any subtext that I missed, do let me know! I shall reblog if there's any more.

Alexander Hamilton

- When the cast are giving Hamilton his stuff, and Laurens gives his bag, a mild gay stare is at large.

(Detail!: Eliza gives him his coat, Angelica gives him his book, Laurens gives him his bag. Very specific character choices, I've gotta say)

(Side note: I've seen someone say Laurens mouths "Me? I loved him", but I don't exactly know if that's true or not, since he's in the dark)

My Shot

- (ESPECIALLY NOTICEABLE IN THE PRO-SHOT) Laurens checks him out a bit as Hamilton sings "These New York City streets get colder, I shoulder (...)"

- When Laurens sings his verse "You, and I, do or die (...)" he touches Hamilton's shoulder and gay-ass staring ensues.

- "Laurens I like you a lot"

(Laurens giggles a bit and acts embarrassed at that lol)

- Laurens says "Let's get this guy infront of a crowd" SO INTIMATELY like... compared to the studio album.... 🏳️‍🌈 (?)

- Just before Laurens shouts "Everybody sing!" He and Hamilton had a little shoulder-to-shoulder moment

Story of Tonight

- The gays do gays. That's all I have to say. You all know about the amount of gay stares and shoulder touches in this song.

- Also how they walk away together??

Right Hand Man

- During the final "Here comes the general!" Laurens and Hamilton do the "handshake thing", only noticed it just now.

Helpless

- After Hamilton tells Eliza "Swear to God you'll never feel so (...)" He and Laurens fucking come in CLOSE and Laurens congratulates him. And then gazes at him from afar before clapping then leaving. Jealous much?

- God, lemme just say, when Laurens and Angelica come down the aisle during the wedding they look so miserable...

Satisfied

- Laurens is like "Alright, alright, stop kissing infront of me mfs!!!"

- During the rewind part, Angelica, Laurens, and Eliza momentarily all stay in the light AT THE SAME TIME, the light Angelica was standing in.

(Side note: I am of the opinion that John Laurens should've sang Satisfied, yet I know that Satisfied was sort-of meant to be a female solo)

(2nd side note: Laurens could've gotten batshit drunk because his lover is getting married)

Story of Tonight (Reprise)

- When Laurens sings "But I've seen wonders great and small" he points at Hamilton. Didn't know Alex had such a small dick.

- Laurens clinging onto Hamilton and staring mindlessly at that man during the entire beginning portion of the song before Burr came in

- Also when they sing "Something you will never see again" Laurens gives Hamilton a sorta "I know I'm gonna die later lol" glance.

Stay Alive

- When Laurens sings "And everyday's a test of our camraderie and bravery" they do the "handshake thing" (which i think is a metaphor for queerness, or something like that)

- The transition from Stay Alive to Ten Duel Commandments ("Laurens, do not throw away your shot"), do I even need to say anything? ALSO THEY WERE IN A PINK LIGHT. (While yes, it is light, it classifies as pink)

CORRECTION: it was a purple pink-ish light, my bad

Ten Duel Commandments

- Of course, the bitches are gay af.

- Burr and Lee have a normal handshake during the seconds part, but Laurens and Hamilton do the "handshake thing" instead

Meet Me Inside

- During the beginning, the two share a hug and gazing. Also, "I'm satisfied!" being said by Laurens.

Laurens' Interlude / Tomorrow There'll Be More of Us

- Dead gay staring/pining ensues. Also, the fact that in the final version, Eliza doesn't even specify the letter came from South Carolina, yet Hamilton immediately assumes it's from Laurens...

Thank you for hearing my rambling, I have joined the fandom late, yes.

#lams #hamilton musical #hamilton #alexander hamilton #john laurens #gay #yes i know the workshop had more moments #rei's rambles

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iwtvfanevents · 6 months

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Rewind the Tape —Episode 2

Art of the episode

Just like we did for the pilot, we took note of the art shown and mentioned in the second episode while we rewatched it, and we are sharing our findings with you. Did we miss any? Can you help us put a name to the unidentified ones? Do you have any thoughts about how these references could be interpreted?

Unnamed painting by Marius de Romanus

Created for the show (uncredited artist).

Armand (still "Rashid") tells Daniel that Marius was a contemporary of Tintoretto (1518-1594).

Transformation

Ron Bechet, 2021 [Identified by Gizmodo's Linda Codega, here.]

Bechet is a New Orleans-born visual artist. He's a relative of the early jazz pioneer Sidney Bechet. Exhibition Prospect.5 says about the collection this piece belongs to: "Bechet carefully renders the ways vines wrap themselves around trees for support and access to sunlight. At times, this relationship serves both the vine and the tree. Works such as Transformation depict a harmonious symbiosis, as tree and vine both flourish. (...) Through his immersive compositions, Bechet invites us to see history and ourselves in relationship to the beauty, power, and violence of the natural world." And, from Xula Gallery: "Here, we are gifted with the physical proximity of life and death – How they share the same organic space, how they sleep together as equals. The flora of South Louisiana's natural landscape is cleaved open to expose its roots. (...) Here is botany that has every potential of becoming monstrous. All of these meanderings are used to symbolize the deep historical roots of a family home and exhibits the precariousness of nature, both human and environmental, with all of its nurturing and destructive potential. (...) It is a diaspora body, skin folded back to reveal its elegant and resilient backbone."

Untitled photographs

Vivian Maier, undated

Maier was a street photographer whose work was discovered and distributed after her death —she took more than 150,000 photographs during her life, and never printed or circulated any. You can learn more about how her work came to light here. We don't actually see the self-portrait in the third picture, which hangs to the left, until episode four.

Dancers

Edgar Degas, 1899 [Identified by @nicodelenfent, here.]

Degas produced countless paintings of ballerinas throughout his career. While he is often considered an impressionist, he himself saw himself more as a realist and preferred harsh gritty subjects of working class backgrounds. Ballerinas at the time often came from working class or poor families and worked intense grueling hours.

Berthe Morisot with a Fan

Edouard Manet, 1872 [Identified by @nicodelenfent.]

Manet was one of the first 19th-century artists to paint modern life, as well as a pivotal figure in the transition from Realism to Impressionism. The portrait in this scene shows his close friend, painter Berthe Morisot, wearing mourning blacks after the death of her father, but wearing a wedding ring —she was engaged to Manet's brother.

Portrait of Erich Lederer

Egon Schiele, 1912 [Identified by @nicodelenfent.]

The Schiele depicts a young Erich Lederer, son of art collectors Serena and August Lederer, whose collection was looted by the Gestapo.

Paddy Flannigan

George Bellows, 1908 [Identified by @nicodelenfent.]

The Bellows depicts a young impoverished boy on the streets of New York.

A Doll's House

Henrik Ibsen, 1879

Lestat tells Louis "They'll seat us late, and we'll miss Nora's entrance with the Christmas tree," which quite a few fans soon identified as a reference to this play, in which a housewife becomes slowly disillusioned with marital life and eventually leaves her husband. This conclusion led to the play being banned in certain countries, such as Germany and Britain, and Ibsen was compelled to write an alternative ending, in which Nora's husband forced her to stay. In the two stage productions pictured above, you can see Kelsey Brennan and Nate Burger on the left, and Assad Zaman and Anjana Vasan on the right.

Unnamed paintings of Papa du Lac and Paul

Created for the show (uncredited artist).

Unidentified painting*

* The running theory is that the woman in this painting is Gabrielle, Lestat's mother; which would mean this is another uncredited prop painted for the show.

Woman in A Fur Coat

Edouard Manet, 1879

Additionally, on the bottom left corner of the frame you can catch a glimpse of another unidentified painting, but we couldn't get any clearer looks of it either.

Autumn at Arkville

Alexander H. Wyant, 1909 [Identified by @vfevermillion.]

The one in the mirror and the one on the other side of the door are too blurry, but we managed to place the one on top of the couch!

The Lone Tenement

George Bellows, 1909 [Identified by @nicodelenfent.]

The National Gallery of Art says about this painting: "Bellows has imbued the composition with a sense of eerie wistfulness, recording the precarious positions of those who were being displaced to make way for the future."

Don Pascuale

Gaetano Donizetti, 1842

The opera that Louis and Lestat go to at the end of the episode follows an elderly bachelor, who gets conned by his nephew Ernesto and his friend Malatesta into marrying the nephew's lover, Norina, under false pretenses. You can find a complete synopsis here.

The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee

Rembrandt van Rijn, 1633 [Identified by Gizmodo's Linda Codega.]

Rembrandt van Rijn, Dutch Baroque painter and printmaker from the 17th century, is best known for his biblical and allegorical pieces. Rembrandt's only seascape was stolen from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston on March 18th, 1990, alongside other 12 works of art. The case remains unsolved.

If you spot or put a name to any other references, let us know if you'd like us to add them with credit to the post!

This week, we will be rewatching and discussing Episode 3, Is My Very Nature That of a Devil. We can't wait to hear your thoughts!

And, if you're just getting caught up, learn all about our group rewatch here ►

#louis de pointe du lac #daniel molloy #lestat de lioncourt #vampterview #interview with the vampire #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #amc iwtv #iwtv amc #IWTVfanevents #rewind the tape #after the phantoms of your former self #analysis and meta #art of the episode

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furryllamas · 9 months

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Can’t Help Falling in Love | A. Walter

+ Alex Walter x OC

+ Summary: Life has been difficult for sisters Jackie and Eden Howard. Obviously regular teenage girl problems, such as boys, school, and friends. Except tragedy that ensues, the death of their parents and older sister. They'll have to navigate a life without their family, just throw in love, the countryside, and a whole lot of boys in one roof.

+ Authors Note: Hey guys I really hope you enjoy this first chapter, I was really inspired after seeing Ashby play Alex and absolutely fell in love 🤍

Chapter 0.0 | Two Time Zones Apart

The sound of LA traffic was not great, but it was definitely quieter than the sound of the streets of New York. It's only been 6 Months since I moved to LA semi-permanently. I still got homesick often but there was no place like California. Ever since the transition from being a model to a singer it was a choice I had to make, with mom and dads approval of course, even if it meant seeing Lucy and Jackie less.

"Oh Gosh. What time is it?" I grumbled as I rubbed my eyes. I looked towards my bedside table and picked up my phone. "10:30 AM" I removed the bed covers and stretched my arms over my head. The smell of my room always gave me some comfort in the mornings. I headed to the restroom and pulled my hair into a bun and turned the faucet on. I started washing my teeth when I heard my phone ringing. I ran back to my room to pick up my phone that was lying on the bed. A video call from Jackie. I quickly pick up the phone as I walk back to the bathroom.

"Juswt whun sewkand-" I attempted to say with the tooth brush still in my mouth. Jackie let out a quick laugh, "take your time Eid." I put my finger up, just one moment, and place the phone in front of the faucet handles, holding it up. I quickly rinse out the toothpaste and splashed my face with water to ensure I would fully wake myself up.

"Hi Jacks! How's it going?" I waved and picked up my phone.

"EDEN! It's going so well! I can't wait for you and Lucy to come home today! I missed you guys so much." Jackie smiled softly.

"Oh my, we haven't been away from you that longgggg" I teased as i sat down on my Vanity. I panned my phone to the stack of luggage by my window.

"Okay I know, BUT, I just missed you guys so much." She sighed. "It's been a month since I've seen you and Lucy. I'm just so excited for you to see my excellent work tonight."

"I know Jacks, My flight is at 2 so I'll probably be there by 7-ish." I start applying my makeup and look away from my phone. " and plus Lucy will be there sooner than me, so you'll get her while you wait for meeee."

She laughs, "Right, what would I do without your wisdom." She stays quiet for a couple of seconds, "How's your new song going?"

I wince, "It's going..." She looks at me confused. "I've just been lacking in inspiration lately. I'm hoping going home will help with that."

"I'm sure you'll get a spark of inspiration once you spend some good old fashioned time at the ballet with me."

"Thanks Jackie, I've missed you guys so much. I can't wait to get there tonight."

I stop to think. "Dinner at The Penrose?"

I look at her smile, "of course Eden! That's our spot."

"All right deal" I look at the time, 11:30AM, "All right sis, I have to head to the airport, see you soon!" I reach over to hang up, "wait! Remember mom and dad will pick you up later tonight so we can all go to dinner together."

"Okay, perfect! Bye Jacks, love you!"

"Bye Eids!" I hung up.

I start getting up and shutting the curtains. It might be a while until I'm back but I'd rather keep my room clean.

Ding Dong.

I head over to the front door that smells strongly of oak. Walking past the pictures I have hanging of Mom, Dad, Lucy, Jackie and I. I open the door and smile as I see the face of my amazing Manager, Lizzie. "Liz! Come to say goodbye to your favorite client." I giggled as she stepped in. "Excuse me! Not just my client, more like my favorite friend!" I hug her and drag her to my room.

"Oh gosh, look at all this baggage..." she exclaims standing in front of my suitcases. She reaches over and picks one up. "Alright Eden! Let's get moving and load these into the car, your driver is waiting."

I look over to her and smile, "You got it boss!" I salute. It was an easy load up and we wasted no time getting in the car. "Are you excited to see your family again?" Lizzie asked. "Yeah I'm a bit nervous though. I haven't seen them in a couple of months, I feel like I've missed out on a lot." It was hard being apart from them and not being able to see them as often as I used to.

Lizzie looks at me and smiles softly, her polished nails and her soft hands reach over to mine. She grabs them and turns to me. "E, you need this. You've been homesick for a while and I think this trip will help you with the new song." I lean my head back against the headrest and turn my face to look out of the window. "I know Liz." I turn back towards her. "Thank you for helping me today. It means a lot. I'll miss you lots."

She just smiles at me and I start feeling tired, car rides always seem to wear me out. I take one last look at the highway we're on and slowly close my eyes. I let sleep take over me and an oddly weird feeling at the pit of my stomach. I hear Liz whisper, "I'll wake you when we get there."

#alex walter x reader #alex walter #mlwtwb #my life with the walter boys

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tangledinink · 1 year

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At long last! A new chapter... Of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? Chapter 22 is here. The Hamato Family focuses on re-adjusting to everyday life until suddenly they're not. Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

“Donniiiieee!” Leo whined loudly, “Tell your drone to quit ignoring me! I never get any footage out of these things!”

“Skill issue,” Donnie remarked, and Leo gave an affronted gasp.

“What!?”

“Yeah!” Mikey chirped, an absolutely shit-eating grin on his face as he joined them; hopping from his skateboard when he reached the top of the half-pipe, grabbing it in his arms and making a smooth transition to solid ground. Donnie’s drone, buzzing softly overhead, followed after him. It was filming all of them, but it did, admittedly, spend a great deal of time trailing Mikey like an excited puppy. “If you want drone time, then you should do more cool stuff. Like me,” he teased.

“I do plenty of cool stuff, thank you!” Leo huffed.

“Where?” Donnie questioned, and April snorted softly.

She had missed this.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I’m the best skateboarder, cuh-learly,” Mikey declared happily, all but peacocking, plopping down next to his siblings where they were currently all perched atop of the half-pipe platform, taking a break and lounging in the sun like seals on a ocean rock.

Or maybe like turtles on a log?...

Raph hummed in response, wordlessly rolling over so that he could flop on top of his baby brother, effectively pinning Mikey to the ground. Mikey squealed, shrieking in protest, even though laughter colored his voice.

“Raph! You are crushing me! Get off!”

“Gotta eliminate the competition,” Raph replied calmly, grinning as he settled down on top of him. April snickered, leaning forward to rest her chin atop her knees.

“Guess that’s the danger of being the best,” she teased.

“Oh, how the mighty fall,” Donnie said, grinning widely. The drone happily recorded.

“I will bite you!” Mikey threatened.

“No you won’t,” Raph said. “‘Cause if you do, I’ll stop getting stuff off the top shelves for you.”

Mikey gasped loudly in offense. “I am still growing!!!”

“Better hurry up,” Donnie said.

“Ex-squeeze me!? You’re five-three!”

“And yet, I am still taller than you…”

The weather was finally starting to get nice out, April observed, and the skatepark that she and the boys frequented was filled with people taking advantage. The steady orchestra of wheels on pavement and excited shouts in the background provided a comforting soundtrack, playing nicely with the birdsong and the sounds of the city that filtered in from around them. Now that it was getting warmer again, the entire city seemed to be waking up. All of New York was flooded with joggers, with dogs on leashes going on walks, with cyclists and parents with strollers and even just people walking around and enjoying the nice weather. April swore it was like animals waking up after hibernation; poking their heads from their burrows at long last. People sat on milk crates on street corners and talked and laughed with one another, trading cigarettes and stories alike, and all the balconies and stoops in her neighborhood were suddenly occupied now that the temperatures were rising. Leaves were beginning to grow on the trees again, and this was something April had always loved, getting excited to see them each and every year. But they had never made her smile so much as they did this time around. Mikey had taken the time to inform her about eight times now that it was the exact same hue as her life color, and now every time she looked at them, she couldn’t help but grin.

Raph eventually let Mikey loose with enough complaining, and the five lingered for a bit longer up top, readjusting knee pads and rollerskate straps or guzzling water, filling the space with idle chatter as they did so, until Leo got to his feet, stretching his arms up above his head.

“You guys wanna do another run?”

“Nah,” April sighed. “You guys go. I gotta get heading to work soon.”

“Booooo,” Mikey complained. “No working. Quit your job! Rollerskate for money!” April scoffed.

“Right, well, if you find someplace that accepts drone footage of rollerskating as currency, you let me know!”

“The new job good?” Donnie questioned, raising a brow, and April nodded.

“Yeah! It’s pretty cool. I mean, my bosses are sort of weird, but in a chill way,” she hummed. “I mean, it’s retail, but the pay is pretty good, so I like it alright.”

Leo sighed dramatically. “Wow. I can’t believe you love money more than you love us,”

“You just say that ‘cause you’ve never had a job,” Raph scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“What about you?” April asked, glancing over at Raphael. “Going back to work soon?”

Raph’s face absolutely lit up at the question, grinning big and giving a determined nod. “Yep! Next class is tomorrow!” He reported proudly. “Can’t leave my kids hangin’ for too long.”

“I’ll bet you any amount of money that that Penelope kid will yell at you for being gone for so long,” April said with a grin, and Raph laughed.

“Yeah. Probably.”

---

“Okay, deep breath in.”

Mikey agreeably inhaled, allowing oxygen to sweep inside of his lungs, feeling his chest swell up to accommodate the load.

“... And deep breath out.”

And he exhaled, slowly blowing all of the air back out, feeling his own breath tickle the edge of his lips as he went.

“... Dad?”

“Yes, my son?”

“Meditation is… really… boring.”

His dad laughed out loud, cracking open his eyes to glance over at his youngest son. “I cannot even disagree with you, Orange. I used to hate it when I was younger,” he confessed. “There were always just so many other things I’d rather be doing!”

“I don’t like it!” Mikey whined, flopping over onto his back, letting all his limbs splay out. “I thought it’d be like yoga! I like yoga! But you just sit in this one! Where’s the fun in that!?”

“I know, I know,” their dad hummed, waving a hand. “But it is an excellent tool for control and focus. And you are the one who asked me to teach you in the first place!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it’d be so lameeeeee,” Mikey whined, rolling over onto his side with a pout.

“Suck it up,” Dad hummed in reply, leaning over to nudge his shoulder slightly. “Come on, up. Five more minutes and we’ll be done.”

“Five minutes!?” Mikey wailed. “That’s so long!”

“It’s not that long,” his dad assured. “You will be fine. And this is the best method I know to keep your ninpo in check, Michelangelo. If you want to control your mystic powers, you’re going to have to focus and control your thoughts and emotions first.”

Mikey wrinkled his nose a bit, slowly sitting up and pursing his lips to form a pout.

That had never been a strength of his.

“Mikey.”

The sharpness of his teacher’s voice shocked Mikey back into reality, his head bobbing in surprise as he turned to glance over at her, leaning over his desk. When had she gotten here…?

“Have you finished your work yet?”

“Uhmmmm…” Mikey paused for a moment, glancing down at the math problems on his desk, clutching at his pencil a bit nervously. She had said to do the first two pages, and he had been going to, honestly! And he had done a few, but then the next one he didn’t know how to do on his own--

“Then why are you drawing?” She pressed, narrowing her eyes, and Mikey shrank a bit, his hands instinctively and self-consciously moving to cover up the little doodles that had begun to take over the margins and free space of the paper. All the little lightning bolts and shooting stars and cartoon unicorns and superheroes that he had been so happy about just a few minutes ago suddenly made his blood feel like ice.

“I dunno how to do these ones…” He defended weakly, his stomach flip-flopping as his eyes darted downwards, his fingers wiggling anxiously.

“We’ve talked about this, Michelangelo. If you need help, then you need to raise your hand and ask me to help you, not doodle,” she chided, her tone insistent, matter-of-fact. Mikey wanted to tell her that she had already been working with one of his classmates when he realized he needed help, and that he had intended to wait for her to be done so he could ask her about the math problems without interrupting, cause he knew she didn’t like it when he interrupted, but then he had gotten bored waiting and started drawing instead, and then he had forgot…

But somehow he didn’t think it would help.

He shrank under her eyes, his lower lip wobbling.

“Okay,” he mumbled, his voice very small, and she sighed with such an air of absolute exasperation that it sent hot, salty tears spilling unbidden over his lower lashes. He didn’t mean to! He was trying so hard not to cry, but she just…! It had just been an accident, but she just seemed so disappointed with him! She seemed so angry!

And now he was crying in class and he could feel his classmates looking at him out of the corners of their eyes. His face burned bright as he scrunched himself up into a teeny little ball, his chin tucked down to his chest to hide.

His teacher stood up straight again, and it felt suddenly like she was looming over him. “When you’re finished crying, call me over and I’ll help you with your work,” she told him, and Mikey shivered from the coldness of it. He had never been so ashamed to cry before. “And if I see any more drawings, I’m throwing them in the trash. Do you understand me?”

Mikey had hiccuped, just a tiny bit, without meaning to, and nodded.

His throat felt all achy and swollen up as he laid his head down in his arms, blinking past tears and sniffling softly, trying desperately to push everything back down and dismiss them. This wasn’t even the first time this had happened…! He was pretty much convinced by now that Mrs. Stephanidis must hate him with all the trouble he was always getting into. She was always upset with him. She was always sighing like that every time they talked… and he was trying, honest, he was! He didn’t mean to get distracted and end up doing something else when they were in class, it just…

Happened.

It was so hard to just sit still and listen and not do anything else. His fingers always wanted to move! So did his feet and his tongue! And he could keep some of them down, but he could never quite manage to keep them all in check all at the same time, despite his best efforts. He’d stay in his seat and be still, but then he’d get in trouble for chatting with his desk-neighbor, which he could never quite understand, because why was he in trouble for talking with his friend? Was it bad? He didn’t get it. He’d keep his hands still, not letting them wander off and do anything else, and he’d remain quiet in class, but then he’d spot something out the window and before he knew it he’d be out of his seat and peering out the window, belatedly finding some excuse to be up when he was confronted. And even when he could keep his mouth quiet and his bottom firmly in his chair…

Well, he’d find himself here.

There were just so many things all the time that he wanted to be doing! Like drawing little superheroes. Or debating with Madison about how high horses could jump. Or finding out how many erasers he could stack on top of one another (twelve), or teaching his deskmates how to say “butt” in Japanese (now the entire first grade knew how), or discovering what happened if you put your finger in the pencil sharpener, (it hurt, and you had to go the nurse to get a bandaid.)

It wasn’t like he didn’t like math and reading and all that stuff. It was just…

So slow sometimes.

As he ruminated on this all, he was slowly able to fight off some of the earlier sorrow, muscling all the wobbly little sobs back inside of his head once he put every bit of strength he had into it. It was exhausting, but it was worth it. He wanted Mrs. Stephanidis to like him. He wanted to be a good student! A good kid! He wanted to do his math and learn how…! He eventually picked his head back up, refocusing on the worksheets in front of him, now with a few wet spots.

He wiped at his cheeks, taking a few long, shaking breaths as he glanced over at his teacher across the room, wandering about and looking over other kids shoulders, occasionally making comments or remarks to his classmates. He supposed he could raise his hand and ask her to come and help him, but…

The idea made his throat puff up again. If he had her come help him, he’d have to raise his hand, and then everyone would look at him again. And, maybe even worse, then she would come over, and he’d have to talk with her again, and…

He hesitated, fear prickling up his spine, his sneakers nudging anxiously at the tile floor at the thought. Well. She would surely wander her way back over to his desk eventually…

Mikey sniffled softly, wiping at his nose with the backs of his sleeve. Maybe he just wasn’t trying hard enough before. Maybe he could figure this stuff out on his own, and he just hadn’t worked long enough on it…

His eyes wandered to the first problem, his pencil lingering over the surface of the paper, repeatedly leaving small, nervous marks and nicks in the surface of the paper as his hand squirmed and trembled. He had gone over some of this with Donnie before, so he probably knew how to do it, right? He just hadn’t tried hard enough to remember…

Very slowly, he tried to pick his way through the problem, his face scrunched up with concentration. Okay, so if it was six, plus nine, then it was like… if he had nine… he just had to count six more times higher, right? But wait, did he start from nine, or from ten? Was the rule different when you got into double digits?...

He hesitantly wrote out numbers on the sheet, his handwriting having morphed from his usual big, loopy letters and numbers to become itty bitty, tiny script, all scrunched together and small, like it wanted to curl up and hide just like he did. And he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right, but at least he was doing it, right? It was better to do it this way, wasn’t it…? He frowned, chewing at his eraser, digging his teeth into the surface.

He ground himself to a halt when he approached the subtraction problems, squirming anxiously in his seat. He knew Donnie taught him this, too, but he really didn’t remember how to do these ones. He knew he had to do it backwards, kinda, but he didn’t remember how it worked, or what the first step was.

His pencil twitched absently as he dug around in the back of his mind, searching desperately for anything helpful. He sketched repeatedly over the same lines he had already drawn earlier-- digging into the little canals and divots that the lead had carved into the soft surface of the paper, dragging it back and forth. Just an absent motion while he tried to think.

And he hadn’t realized Mrs. Stephanidis had come back. But the absolutely outraged gasp that clued him in made him jump, and his blood ran cold as he immediately froze, dropping the pencil like it had burned him.

“Michelangelo!”

“I wasn’t--” He tried desperately to explain himself, panic flaring through his chest.

“What did I just tell you?!”

“But I--”

Mikey realized quickly that she wasn’t interested in listening to him as she snatched the worksheets from his desk, his pencil knocked aside with the movement and rolling off his desk. Mikey resisted the urge to grab for them, remaining absolutely still in his seat. All the hard work he had just done to chase the tears away was instantly undone as he watched her march over to the trash can by the door.

She tore the papers in half the long way, right down the middle. And then she rotated them so she could do it again, ripping them the opposite direction, like a cross. Like a great big “X.” Pulled apart into four separate pieces. And then the scraps went fluttering into the black bin.

She went to her desk. She picked up a new set of worksheets, clean and fresh. She returned to Mikey’s desk, laying them down neatly where his previous work had once been. She picked his pencil up off the floor for him and leaned back over the desk.

“Okay. Now show me which problems you didn’t understand.”

Yeah. Dad hadn’t been too happy about that one.

He had started seeing his therapist, Cat, a little after that, and that had helped a lot. And then when he was seven, he started taking meds, and that helped a lot, too. It certainly wasn’t a magic band-aid. Things still… sucked sometimes.

And he still wasn’t the best at. You know. Focusing.

… But he couldn’t just let it keep getting the better of him.

Not if it was going to hurt his family.

Mikey took in a long, deep breath, sitting back upright again, scooting forward so he could copy his Dad’s posture once more, his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

---

It was just as he had suspected.

Penelope was pissed.

It had been endearing, quite frankly, how worked up she was. They all were-- Raphael had been nearly ambushed when he showed up at class, all five of his students throwing themselves at him and clinging to him as soon as they got the chance.

“Where were you?!” Penelope had demanded. “You were gone for forever!!! You’re supposed to teach us, remember!? We have a standing appointment!!!”

And Raph had laughed despite himself, wondering where she had heard that term, unable to keep himself from smiling even as they scolded him. He had already known he had missed them over the past month. But he hadn’t had the chance to actually feel it until just then. It was almost enough to make him tear up, emotion building up in the back of his throat, but he smoothed it back out, keeping himself steady. He didn’t even mind how much his cheeks hurt, because god.

He had missed this so much.

“Sorry, kiddo, my bad,” he told them. “Raph missed you guys, too. But I had to go take care of my family for a little while.”

“Why?” Penelope had demanded.

“Are they okay?” Another child had questioned, looking up at him with these huge, concerned eyes.

“It’s a real long story,” he had told them with a sigh and a lop-sided grin. “But don’t worry. Everyone is okay now.”

“Did something bad happen?” One of his students had asked.

“Did you protect them?” Said another, and Raph had chuckled.

“Nah,” he told them. “We all protected each other.”

Even thinking about it now, now that he was back in his own room in his own house, he couldn’t help but smile a little bit. He thought that there was a fifty-fifty chance he may grow to regret it, but he had even given in and done two ‘Ferry’ laps around the pool at the end of the lesson. Come on-- how could he not?

A knock on his door drew him from the memory, and he lifted his head slightly, his eyes darting over to meet the sound.

“Yeah?”

He was, admittedly, a little surprised when Leo made his way into the room with him, closing the door behind him. Not that he was unwelcome.

“Hey,” Leo greeted.

“Hey,” Raph echoed, raising a brow slightly, already wondering what it was that had brought his little brother here. He wasn’t just here to hang out or avoid doing homework-- he could already tell. He knew his brothers better than that. “What’s up?”

Leo had hesitated a second, wrinkling his nose. “Can you help me with something?”

What kind of a question is that?

“Yeah, a’course. What’s up?”

Leo had frowned, plopping down on Raph’s bed, and Raph took notice of the little black pouch he had brought with him for the first time.

“Okay, look. Can you just help me with my T-shot? Please?”

Raph blinked in surprise.

“Oh,” he said. “I mean. Yeah, sure. I can try. You haven’t done ‘em yet…?” Leo’s appointment had only been a few days ago, but still. He had been so excited for this!

“I’ve been making Dad do them,” Leo confessed, scrunching up his nose. “But I wanna be able to do them myself! And I can, I know how, I just--”

He cut out, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

“This is so fucking stupid. Can you just-- count me down?”

Was that all? Raph just barely breathed out an amused little huff, though he didn’t dare laugh at his younger brother’s request, biting it back.

“Yeah, dude. No problem.”

“It’s just-- it psyches me out,” Leo muttered, curled up on the foot of his brother’s bed, beginning to unpack the kit he had brought with him with determined but still unpracticed hands.

“That’s fine,”

“It’s so dumb. I’ve done way scarier stuff than this. It doesn’t even really hurt that bad,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, but I do most of the scary stuff you do, too, and I’m still freaked out by puppets,” Raph countered, shrugging a bit. He hated to bring it up, and if anyone besides him said it, he’d smack them, but… sometimes you gotta make sacrifices for your family. “So I kinda think it probably doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Leo sighed, biting the tip of his tongue as he fiddled with the syringe, occasionally stopping, stumbling, and starting again. Raph waited patiently. It wasn’t like he had any idea how to do any of this stuff, anyway, so he didn’t have much room to judge. He watched silently as his brother tore open an alcohol pad to wipe down his own thigh, scrunching his pajama shorts up ever-so-slightly to give himself more room.

“You ready?” Raph asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright. I’ll count down from three.”

“Okay.”

“Three.”

“Mmmm…”

“Two.”

Leo adjusted his grip on the needle slightly.

“One.”

There was just the second of delay, Leo’s hand hoovering for just a second, like he was still thinking about backing down.

But just for a second.

He hissed a bit at the sting, but about three seconds later, it was done, the needle capped again and ready to be disposed of, and everything was finished.

“All good?”

“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Raph said, turning in his chair to face his desk again. And he meant it. He liked doing this kind of thing. He liked it when his brothers could come to him, when his family could rely on him-- he liked feeling needed like this. He was sure that Mikey would psychoanalyze the shit out of this, but he really did want to protect them. He wanted to be the one who kept them safe. Even when it was difficult.

And when it was easy, too. Just like this.

“”S not like I was really doin’ homework, anyway,” Raph added in with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder at Leo again.

Leo made a face at the thought of homework, no doubt having his own, but he laughed a little, too.

“You want me to count you in tomorrow, too?” Raph asked, keeping his tone as casual as he possibly could, turning his head back to face the desk again as he spoke, leaving the other to consider the offer without eyes on him. And he could tell that Leo was thinking about it for a while, waffling for a moment before he answered.

“... Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

---

“Dad, is this a touch screen?”

“No, it is not, so do not touch it.”

“DAD! Dad, look! There’s a dog over there!!!”

“Yes, Mikey, I see it.”

“Can I go--”

“No. Stay here with me.”

“Dad! Look! I can see the security guys!”

“Yes, and they are all very busy doing their jobs, so we probably should not distract them by screaming and pointing--”

“Do they have guns!?”

Their father sighed very deeply, not looking up from his current task, rummaging through his bag.

“No, they--”

“Do they have katanas?”

“Why would they have katanas?”

“‘Cause they’re cool,” Leo said, “I wanted to bring mine! This is sooo not fair”

“Well, you’re not old enough to compete in that event yet, so you’ll have to suck it up,” Dad replied. “And you do not have to worry about what weapons the security does or does not have, because you would not break any rules and give them any reason to use any of them. Right, Blue?”

“Right!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!!! I’m for sure sure!”

“So if I go through your backpack right now, I will not find any cans of Jupiter Jim Comet Cola in there? Because I specifically told you not to bring any?”

Leo scowled.

“Go throw it out.”

“What!? But it’s limited edition!!!”

“Then you should have left it at home like I told you. Go.”

“I’ll drink it so fast--”

“Leonardo.”

Leo groaned loudly, flinging his head back dramatically as he slunk off towards the nearby trash can.

This had been about the energy pretty much all day.

“What kind of cameras are those?”

“Purple, I have absolutely no idea.”

“Can I--”

“Whatever it is, no,” Dad said, finally fishing their boarding passes from his bag. “Alright, come on, let’s go. That way, to the security check-- the blue sign over there.”

“I wanna hold my own ticket!” Leo demanded.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not!?”

“You will lose it. Come on. Let’s go.”

“No I wouldn’t! I swear!”

“Well, we will never know,” Dad said. “Come on, or we will be late and miss our flight. Move. Shoo,” he insisted, nudging at the nearest child’s ankle slightly with his foot, as if to herd them. Mikey gave a short squeal in response, hopping away and giggling as he took off in a jog towards the blue TSA sign. He bobbed and weaved past all the hoards of people and their suitcases, his backpack bouncing about with each step.

Raph frowned a bit, hurrying his pace so he could catch up with Mikey, sticking close by his side. There were a ton of people here. What if he got lost or something? Then they’d definitely miss their flight. He picked up the pace slightly so he could catch up.

“Mikey,” he called, reaching out towards him and wriggling his fingers. “Hold hands?”

“Okay,” Mikey agreed easily, happily reaching over to grab Raph’s hand in his own, and Raph breathed out a very quiet sigh in relief. Mikey was always willing to hold hands when he asked. At least this way, he knew he wasn’t gonna get lost.

The five of them slowly snaked their way through the long, roped-off security lines, their father following after them, occasionally saying things like, ‘stop unhooking the lanes,’ or ‘do NOT touch the AED machine,’ or ‘Orange, get off the floor.’ Raph and Mikey took turns seeing who could walk on their hands the longest, and they only fell a few times, with their father grumbling at them to cut it out each time he caught them by their legs and prevented them from crashing into any fellow travelers, which they of course ignored. Eventually, they shuffled their way through the entire process, having all the boarding passes and documents checked by the security man up front, and then passing through the physical security check as well. Dad grumbled about how much more complicated flying had gotten since he had last done it, forbade Leo and Mikey from climbing up onto the conveyor belt for the X-Ray machine, and had, one by one, coaxed them all through the entire process until they were on the other side.

“Dad, can I have one of those?” Donnie questioned, pointing back at the equipment at the checkpoint.

“Ask me again when we get back home,” Dad said, letting out a long breath.

The rest of the process was actually pretty easy. They eventually made their way over to their gate, their dad sat them all down and put on a Jupiter Jim movie for them to watch together, and they waited until it was time for boarding. And the entire day had been very chaotic so far, with Raphael’s anxiety spiking and waning throughout it all in frantic little bursts, but now, it didn’t really seem so bad.

It wasn’t until they actually started to board the plane that some of the fear started to come back.

He and his siblings were arguing about who would get to sit in the window seat, their Dad hoisting carry-ons up into the overheads, when Raph kind of glanced outside through said window and came to the startling realization that they were on a plane.

And it was huge.

And it was gonna go up in the air. With them in it.

His carefully calculated talking points about how he was the oldest, and therefore, he should get the window seat sort of died in his throat, and he swallowed hard, balling his hands up into little fists.

They had never flown in a plane before.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yes, Red…?”

“Are we… Are we, uhm…” He kind of broke off, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. The air in here was so stale.

Their dad paused, glancing down at him for a moment, quickly finishing his task before kneeling down next to Raph, seeming unconcerned about the other people trying to walk down the aisle.

“What’s wrong, Red?”

“Is it…” He hesitated a little. “Are you sure planes are safe?”

“Yes, my son. I am sure planes are safe.”

“Oh,” he said, biting the insides of his cheeks. “And it’s not gonna be… I mean. Nothin’ bad is gonna happen?”

“I’m sure,” Dad assured. “It will be fine, Raph. I have flown many, many times before, and nothing bad has ever happened yet. At least nothing worse than my bag getting lost,” he said, chuckling a bit, and Raph wrinkled up his nose slightly. (Wait, what if their bags got lost? It had a bunch of their stuff for the tournament they were going to! They needed that stuff…!)

“Here,” Dad said, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing it slightly. “How about you sit here next to me? So if anything happens, I can explain it to you?”

Raph’s eyes widened a bit, his head immediately turning to glance over at his siblings.

“But what about--”

“They will be right there the entire time. You’ll be able to see them and talk to them the whole flight if you want,” Dad assured quickly. “And so will I. Just in case. Does that sound okay?”

Raph chewed quietly at his knuckle, considering this for a second before he nodded.

“Okay. Good. Here, sit down,” he bade, getting the two of them settled in their seats to clear up the aisle, giving a quick order to the other three to ‘sort it out.’ It took five games of rock-paper-scissors, but eventually, the others figured out what order they were sitting in. (Mikey in the window seat, Leo in the middle, and Donnie in the aisle.)

“Are you excited to go to the competition, Red?” Dad asked, settling down easily in his seat. Raph breathed in deeply, hesitating a second before he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“It’s pretty exciting, going to the National Tournament for the first time,” Dad continued. “I am looking forward to watching you four kick everyone else’s butt when we get there.”

“Mmm-hmmm…”

“And for you to see Colorado. I have never been there before, but I heard it’s very nice.”

“You haven’t?”

“No, not yet. So it will be new for me, too,” Dad said with a nod. “But I’m sure it will be lovely. I’m quite looking forward to it.”

Raph blinked thoughtfully, his shoulders slowly untensing a bit as they discussed.

“I thought you said you used to fly everywhere,” he challenged, and his dad laughed.

“I did! Just not to Colorado.”

“Well then that’s not everywhere, though!”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “But I have flown to many places. I enjoy flying. It’s relaxing. A good chance to catch up on my beauty sleep!” He laughed.

“It is?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Dad confirmed with a hum. “When we are taking off, the plane will go very fast so it can get up into the air. It is like, uh… A roller coaster. But in reverse order,” he explained. “And then once we are in the air, we just go straight in the direction we want to go, and it’s very calm. So I like it.”

A reverse roller-coaster?

Raph blinked in surprise, leaning over slightly as he considered this. Well, he did like roller coasters.

“How high are we gonna go?”

---

It’s really true what they say. You never really appreciate something until it’s taken from you. Absence and hearts growing fonder and all that. And really, they hadn’t been separated for very long-- no more than a few days.

But god, had Donnie missed his lab.

His dad had only kept him from the space for a few days before he was granted re-access, though only after a long discussion and several promises not to try to perform any more blood work on himself. And Donnie had relented, though perhaps a bit reluctantly. It was an interesting project, but he supposed he would have to put it on hold for the time being.

(Also, Dad had confiscated all his syringes.)

Besides, it wasn’t as though he didn’t have about half a dozen other fascinating things that he could throw himself into right now. He had a hard time picking one thing to focus on right now, quite frankly, with so many different things calling for his attention now that he finally had the energy to offer it.

The one thing that called the loudest, however, currently sat in his gloved hand-- held up closer to the light beneath several magnifying lenses.

He really had no idea what this little pink crystal that he had stolen from Draxum’s lab did. But if it came from him, he had a feeling it must be important. He was still in the early data collection stage, but already all the readings he had picked up were, quite frankly, baffling in the very best of ways, and he was already certain of one thing.

It wasn’t any kind of mineral that had been documented in human records before.

(Even just thinking that made him shiver with goosebumps. This was totally uncharted territory! Research that no one in documented modern science had done before! And here he was, holding this little stone in his hands, his own two hands, preparing to dive into unknown and crack open its secrets and lay them out and untangle them--)

“Dude!”

Donnie startled slightly, his head bobbing about to glance over at the entrance of his lab.

“Quit putting your phone on silent, it’s annoying,” Leo huffed. “Do you have any idea how many stairs are in between you and the kitchen?”

Donnie blinked slowly beneath his goggles. “... What?”

“We tried calling you!” Mikey added, poking his head into the lab as well. “Dinner is ready!!! Come on!”

Donnie floundered for a moment, looking sadly back at his research. “But I--”

“Family dinner. That I made myself. For my whole family to enjoy,” Mikey added in swiftly, batting his eyelashes. “Together.”

Right. Donnie sighed softly, reluctantly setting the crystal down, stripping himself of his safety gear and getting to his feet. It wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate the new emphasis on sit-down family dinners that they had recently developed…

But dang it, did it have to be at the expense of scientific advancement!?

“I’m coming. Put the eyes away, Michael,” he muttered, making his way across the lab to join them at the door. Mikey just grinned in response, seemingly perfectly pleased with himself as he spun around to begin making his way back down the stairs. Donnie, admittedly, smiled the tiniest bit.

Fine, fine. He supposed that the crystal would still be there when he got back.

The kitchen was already bustling by the time they all re-joined the fray, with Dad and Raph finishing up setting the table, which was already filled to the brim with Mikey’s cooking. Luckily, with the size of their family and the size of the appetites in it, there was never any concern about overabundance.

“‘S April coming?” He questioned, easily joining the organized chaos, slipping neatly into the familiar thick of it. He rapidly took inventory of the scene and moved by instinct to fill in any gaps, reaching into the cupboard to grab glasses for the table before fetching the Brita filter from the fridge. The rest of the family moved around him seamlessly, darting around and between one another as all the last-minute meal prep was completed.

“Yeah, she should be here in a few minutes. She said she was on her way,” Raph reported, tossing a stray backpack left on the back of a kitchen chair into the living room, letting it bounce off the couch and onto the floor to be fetched later.

“Guys, where’re the salad tongs? I can’t find them!” Mikey complained, shuffling through drawers.

“Mikey, no one except for you ever uses those,” Donnie scoffed in response, raising a brow. “They’re wherever you put them last.”

“But I can’t find them!”

“Did you check the dishwasher?” Raph questioned.

“Yeah!”

“Did you check all the cabinets?”

“... No.”

“... Do you want me to check the top ones?”

Mikey scowled.

“Yeah,” he muttered. And Raph grinned, but he didn’t say anything further, reaching up to the upper cupboards inaccessible to the rest of his family, beginning to search.

“Are they still in the fridge?” Leo questioned, raising a brow.

“Why would they be in the fridge?” Raph questioned.

“‘Cause Mikey was using them for those chocolate-strawberry-nachos he made the other day, and there’s still leftovers in the fridge.”

Mikey gasped, his face lighting up as he darted across the room.

“Oh, yeah--!”

“It’s a miracle we are able to keep track of anything in this house,” Dad scoffed softly, though he seemed more amused than anything, shaking his head as he dried a last-minute addition to the dishware lineup, dinner plate in one hand and hand towel in the other.

“That’s an understatement,” Donnie sighed.

“APRILLLL O’NEIL!!!”

Donnie would admit it. He had missed her dramatic entrances. He smiled a bit as his sister flung the front door open, bursting into the Hamato Household, grinning wide despite looking just a tiny bit frazzled. He suspected she had rushed her way over here-- she was still wearing her work uniform.

“Sorry I’m late,” April laughed, kicking the door shut behind her as she made her way into the kitchen. “This guy got one of the kiddie sandals stuck on his foot and I had to--”

Donnie was sure that whatever April was about to say would have been a good story. He would have been interested in hearing it. But he didn’t get the chance.

The sound of a ceramic plate shattering on the tile floor brought all conversation to a shrieking, shuddering halt.

---

Raphael’s conversation with his Dad, which had been going on for several minutes now, discussing the longest flight their father had ever been on, was cut off when he suddenly felt the entire plane jolt beneath him. His eyes widened as they began to taxi forward.

“We’re moving!”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Dad confirmed, steady and calm, leaning back to rest his head against the seat. “We’re going to the end of the runway, so the plane can get a running start and go fast enough to take off.”

Raph gaped slightly, glancing across the aisle to look over at his siblings-- and they were all wriggling with anticipation, too, straining to try to crowd around Mikey’s little window and see outside. Raph shifted a bit, glancing in the opposite direction, and realized that he could kind of see the window a little bit, too. He could see the world begin to shift around them. And Raph tensed a little bit, because he knew that things were about to start happening.

His dad shifted ever so slightly, moving to casually lay his hand on the armrest between them, and Raph immediately took the unspoken invitation and grabbed it. He could hear his own heartbeat.

“Here we go,” Dad hummed softly, and Raph nodded a tiny bit, biting the insides of his cheeks.

It was starting.

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