#boyfriends and woodworks i mean

[dont-offend-the-bees]

the thing about men is they will whittle things for lucius spriggs

#ofmd #ofmd spoilers #i love it he's collecting them! #boyfriends and woodworks i mean #mr. bees speaks

[yonch]

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

#isat #in stars and time #siffrin #siffrin isat #isafrin #isat game #postgame isat #loop #isabeau #mirabelle #odile #bonnie #boniface #spoilers are only under the read more #my drawings #etoile tag

[thewulf]

Gorgeous || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - So I was wondering if you could do a Jake Seresin x reader based on the song gorgeous by Taylor Swift. I just love flirty Jake and reader with lots of slow burn

A/N: Natasha’s sister moves to town and catches the eye of your favorite blonde pilot. 3 x 1 with each verse of Gorgeous by Taylor Swift angsty and flirty. The three times you flirt desperately with Jake and the one time he does something about it.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N Trace

Word Count: 4.7k +

One – The Party

“Everyone, this is my sister, Y/N. She’s a biologist. Decided to move downstate to be closer to me.” Nat grinned squeezing your side knowing it’d irritate you. She knew exactly how to do that, had it down to a literal science.

You rolled your eyes, “Or a job transfer happened to land me here.” You corrected her not having much time to spare her much of glance as a new voice interrupted the two of you.

“Thank the Good Lord for job transfers.” A blonde pilot shot you a rather confident wink cheersing the guys and few women around him making his presence known.

Nat swatted his beer down from the table the group was using, “Don’t even think about it Seresin. She has a boyfriend anyway.” Your sister shook her head eyeing him carefully.

You looked over at Nat with an annoyed expression crossing your face. She didn’t know you and your boyfriend, Matt, were on thin ice about the job transfer. He was pretty damn adamant that he wasn’t leaving Los Angeles to move down to San Diego with you. You didn’t know how committed you were to making that drive every other weekend either. To say the relationship was rocky was a bit of an understatement. It was teetering towards the edge and didn’t have much hope for survival.

Jake shrugged, “For now.”

Your eyes looked back to him in curiosity. You weren’t sure if he was just playing around and fucking with your sister or if he was being serious and found you just as interesting as you did him but you sure as hell were going to figure it out, that was for damn sure.

He gave you the up and down after seeing your curious gaze. With a sly smile he took a step towards you. You would’ve let him, but your sister had other plans, “May I remind you. She has a boyfriend Jake.” You smiled up at him, he looked like a Jake.

He shrugged loving how worked up his coworker was getting over this, “Doesn’t mean I can’t make a friend Natasha.”

You bit back an even bigger smile not wanting to hear it from her later, not in the slightest, “Yeah Natasha, a friend.” You nodded playing along with him. You liked to work her up just as much, if not more than he did.

Her nose scrunched as she took your hand, “I don’t want to hear it from you, piccolo merda.”

You rolled your eyes at her Italian nickname for you, little shit, how original. The two of you were fluent in Italian, thanks to your father. He always said if he couldn’t raise you in Italy you were damn sure going to be speaking Italian inside the home. And so, you did.

It wasn’t two hours later you found yourself searching for the blonde pilot. You’d successfully ditched your sister after getting her a little too drunk. To be fair, you might’ve been a little too drunk for your own good. When you spotted him getting a drink from the keg you didn’t hesitate to walk right on up to him with a no-good smile right on your own face. Thank God for liquid courage.

When he spotted you walking too him he didn’t hesitate for a moment either, “Little Trace. Where’s your big sister?” He smirked while teasing you turning his body towards you leaning his side against the island counter.

You shrugged looking around, “She’s somewhere. Didn’t think I had to keep track of her.” Mimicking him you leaned against it too.

He shook his head, “I think it’s the other way around sweetheart.” His southern accent came out the more he drank. And he’d drank quite a bit leading to a thick Texas accent coming out of the woodwork.

You couldn’t help but to giggle, the draw that came off his mouth was so foreign to the prim and proper people of Northern California you’d called home your entire life.

His eyes shot to your lips hearing you laugh so sweetly. He couldn’t help that he was truly enamored with the sound that captured him so effortlessly, “What are you laughing at?” He quipped, far too curious for his own good.

You shook your head quickly, “Nothing.”

He took a step closer eyeing you up and down forgetting you were his co-workers sister for a second, “I don’t believe you for a second darlin’.”

You were ever so thankful for the beer in your hand giving you something to put your eyes on, “I wasn’t expecting that accent, is all.” You giggled once more feeling the effects of drinking one too many beers.

You’d officially piqued his interest. His eyebrows raised in amusement, taking a step closer. He was far closer to you than Nat would appreciate, and he knew it. But it really was your fault. He couldn’t resist that cute little laugh and pretty little eyes batting right at him.

“You’re drunk.” He grinned noticing your swaying and gentle grip on the kitchen countertop

You shrugged, “So? Isn’t that the point of a party?” It was then that you noticed just how close the two of you really were. One more step and you’d be on top of him. You couldn’t have stopped the blush that spread across your cheeks even if you tried.

His smile only made your stupid, traitorous heart hammer in your chest once more, “Your absolutely right sweetheart.” His answer caught your eyes. When he winked you were sure your knees would buckle had your sister not swooped in eyeing Jake with venom you hadn’t seen from her in a long time.

“There you are Y/N.” She grabbed your arm gently, “I’ve been looking for you. I want to introduce you to a few people.”

You nodded grabbing the beer Jake had poured for you, “See you around Jake.” You waved as your sister dragged you off.

He nodded, “You sure will darlin’.”

Two – The Hard Deck

The mission tonight was simple. Avoid Jake Seresin at all costs. It wasn’t worth the damn headache that came from Natasha. She reamed you out the night after the house party saying you had a commitment. That’s when it all spilled out, just how unhappy you were in your current relationship.

To your surprise it was Natasha that convinced you to break up with him, so you did. You felt that sense of clarity once he simply just accepted the fate destined rather than fighting for you. Instead of wallowing you felt at peace. Like you were free from a trap you wanted so desperately to get out from. You were able to do whatever you wanted. The only problem you had now was going to be Jake. You were drawn to him, so utterly drawn to him. Nat tried to warn you, but every story only made you more interested. She stopped when she realized what she was doing.

You knew it was only a matter of time before you were going to be so casually controlled by the man. So, you’d avoid him. It was easy at first. But got a lot harder as the night wore on and his eyes were on you for a majority of it. That and your eyes kept finding his more and more the night progressed and the more intoxicated you became.

You were all but successful in your avoidance until you felt a hand brush against your own as you walked across the bar. You stopped locking eyes with the man you were attempting to avoid.

“Hey sweetheart.” He smirked knowing he had your attention now.

“Jake.” You pulled your jaw up from your shocked expression attempting to smile sweetly at the man you’d been able to avoid for the majority of the night, until now.

“Little Trace, you’ve been avoiding me.” He grabbed for your hand. You should’ve pulled away. Kept the conversation short and simple between the two of you. But you couldn’t. Not with him. He had you fair and square now. The mission was failed, successfully.

You tried to play coy. Key word, tried. The creeping blush might’ve given you away though, “I’ve been busy.”

“Avoiding me.” A lopsided grin spread across his face as he played with your hand absentmindedly stepping towards you. He too was utterly drawn towards you just as you were to him. It was only a matter of time between the two of you.

“It’s not all about you Jake. I have obligations from Natasha.” You grinned feeling a shiver rip up your arm from the tracing he was doing along your thumb. He noticed, because of course he did.

He shook his head looking right at you. Hazel green eyes, staring in yours. Your heart felt like it just might explode from that look alone, “See that’s where your wrong sweetheart. It’s all about me.”

You laughed throwing your head backwards. It’d been a while since you felt such joy in the utter shameless flirting that was going on between the two of you, “Maybe in your world Jake Seresin.” You gave his hand a squeeze in your own.

“That’s where your wrong again. In my world it’s all about you.” Jake looked all too proud of himself with that line.

You let him have the win. You let out a another loud laugh letting him know you were all too interested in him even though everybody around you seemed to be rooting against whatever the hell it was between the two of you. It was just a simple flirtationship that you so desperately wanted to progress.

“That was too smooth Jake.”

He let out a soft breath debating what to say next. Like he knew he would screw up if he went down his usual route. He didn’t want to just sleep with you. You were different. He knew if he started something with you he had to commit. You were too special not to. That and Nat would kick his ass to high heaven if he fucked around with your feelings.

“You make it easy, Y/N. It’s so easy with you. I hardly know you, but I feel like I can tell you anything. Does that make any sense?” He let out. Almost afraid it was too much for literal strangers.

You nodded quickly, “I know what you mean. Like I trust you. Could tell you anything and you’d keep it a secret. I get it.” You affirmed him bobbing your head up and down in the overcrowded bar packed to the brim on a busy Saturday night.

He let out the breath he was holding in giving your hand a gentle squeeze in return, “I knew you’d get it Little Trace.”

“Can you I ask you something?” You asked, needing to change the subject feeling all too vulnerable all too quickly.

“Shoot sweetheart.” He nodded letting you know anything was fair game.

You looked him right in the eyes, “Why does my sister want me to avoid you so desperately? Why does everybody?” You asked not sure if you really wanted to real answer.

He let out a soft sigh, “That’s a really long story I’ll tell you another day.” He nodded along, “Long story short, they don’t want you around Hangman.”

You nodded along. That must’ve been his callsign, “Is Hangman a dickhead?” You asked unashamed. Half the alcohol, half you speaking.

This time he threw his head back in laughter. You caught him in surprise, and he wasn’t afraid to show it, “Hangman is a really big dickhead.”

You smiled loving this side of him you were sure didn’t come out all too often, “Well I’m glad I’m getting to know Jake, not Hangman.”

He nodded finally dropping you hand, “Jake only. Now, your sister is shooting me evil glances. Go make sure she doesn’t murder me later, yeah?”

You turned your head waving your sister off, “I promise she won’t murder you.”

“I’m going to hold you to it. Or I’m haunting your ass.”

You grinned deciding to grab his hand this time, “It’s a deal, Jake Seresin.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, “It’s a deal then, Y/N Trace.”

Three – The Football Game

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned sitting down at the picnic table witnessing the men in all their shirtless sweaty glory.

Penny nodded, “I know.”

“That’s just not fair. I don’t know how Nat does it.” You sighed tuning away from the shirtless group playing dogfight football on the beach, whatever that was. You couldn’t focus on trying to figure it out either. Jake looked too fucking good glistening, sweaty in the sun. What a cruel joke Nat was playing on you right now.

Penny smiled seeing you trying to avoid a certain blonde pilot playing football opposite your sister, “They’re more like brothers to her now.”

You nodded feeling your cheeks redden under her gaze, “What?” You asked trying to dodge her eyes.

“You like Jake?” She asked knowing all about his reputation. She knew it wasn’t her place to say a word. She was sure you’d heard everything about the pilot.

You just looked at her trying to come up with something, “I uhm, I think he’s quite cute.” You admitted feeling your already red cheeks deepen even further.

“Your sister said he talks about you a lot.” She told you.

You looked at her skeptically, “Really?” Being a bartender had its perks and one of those was learning about everybody’s business.

“Yeah. She told me the other night. She’s worried he’ll hurt you.” Penny admitted wanting to give you one warning. That was her motherly instinct kicking in for you.

You smiled, “She forgets we grew up in the same household. She forgets I’d kick his ass before he gets the chance at mine.”

“You should tell her that.” Penny laughed loving your confidence. You reminded her of Nat with that mini outburst right there. Penny loved getting to know the pilots that frequented her bar. Especially those who came back multiple times, your sister and Jake being just a few of them.

“Trust me, I try. She doesn’t listen to me. I’m just her dumb, stupid younger sister.” You sighed letting your frustration with your sister out. You loved her more than anything, but she treated you like a damn porcelain doll all the time. Like you’d shatter at any moment. It would’ve been sweet had she not tried to stop you from failing, something you needed.

“Incoming.” Penny smiled knocking you out of your thoughts. She stood from her seat across from you. She walked off towards Pete just in time for Jake to sit down next to you.

“Hey pretty girl.” He smiled so effortlessly while you felt like you were fighting for your damn life. Like the oxygen was suddenly getting sucked out of all the air.

You felt your eyes want to look down, but you knew you couldn’t. He was shirtless and you knew your eyes would betray you if they got a look any further below than his neck, “Hey Jake.” You felt your voice quiver as you looked away from him. It was like he had sucked all the confidence you once had and took it all himself.

“You look really pretty this afternoon.” He complimented you loving the way you looked in that dress far too much. Far too much for somebody who was just friends. He wanted you more than that and he was starting to get tired of waiting. He knew he was going to go for it the second he got back from the mission. It didn’t mean he couldn’t shamelessly flirt with you now though. Just to let you know how he really felt.

“You look… good yourself.” You kept your eyes forward trying not to give away just how damn attracted to him you really were.

He cracked a grin seeing you struggle under the conditions. He knew he had to make it just a bit harder for you, “Oh yeah? You think so sweetheart?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded.

He nodded slowly trying his best to get you to look down at his bare chest, “Well thank you darlin’.” He edged closer. And that was all it took to get you to break. You cursed yourself as you looked down at instinct to the subtle movement. He looked good. Better than good. Damn amazing. Gorgeous. He too looked oh so fucking gorgeous.

He smirked seeing that was what it took to get you to break, “As much as I’d like to tease you sweetheart your sister is walking over, and I don’t care for an earful. I’ll talk to you later?” He asked leaning closer to you.

“Yeah, later.” You smiled.

What took you by surprise was the quick peck on the cheek he gave you before running off. Not even having time to react to him before he was gone Nat stood where he was just moments ago, “What was that about?” She asked eyeing you skeptically.

You shook your head, “Nothing. Just Jake being Jake.” You smiled knowing it was over for you. You liked him far more than you really should’ve. Far more than he liked you. What you didn’t know was just how much he really did like you too. How slowly over the last few weeks you’d captured his every thought that wasn’t consumed by the mission. You had him smitten beyond his wild dreams.

Four – Return From the Mission

When you spotted her the tears sprung from your eyes immediately. You knew she was okay, she called to tell you. But seeing her was another story, “Oh, thank God.” You mumbled before walking as close as you could before you had to wait before they were dismissed.

Your eyes were glued on your sisters, but another pair was glued right on you. You didn’t see Jake watching you and only you. He didn’t have any family there to greet him. He hadn’t invited anybody. Not many people had. He couldn’t help but to feel a little twinge of jealousy seeing your eyes glued on somebody else. Knowing it was irrational he tried to keep his head on straight. How could he be jealous of your sister? A sister he’d grown to love dearly, in a different sense. Now that the mission was over he could focus on you, solely you now. If he had to stand behind your sister so be it, he’d do it.

The second you heard the dismissal call you were running towards your sister. You heard her grunt once you through your arms around her torso bringing her in for a bone crushing hug, “Natty, you’re okay.”

She laughed patting your shoulder. As much as you loved her she wasn’t one for much physical affection. Hugs made your sister rather uncomfortable, and you knew it. But you didn’t really care. You needed to hug her. To remind yourself that she was okay. She was living and breathing in front of you.

“Like I told you on the phone.” She smiled giving you one single squeeze back.

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly pulled apart from her, “You said you were fine. Who knows what that actually means. You could’ve been wheeled off the ship for all I know.” Crossing your arms over your chest you feigned a pout.

“You’re so dramatic.” She laughed

Shaking your head at her you smiled, “I’m dramatic? Last time you walked off the ship with a concussion and a broken arm. You said you were good. You’re not dramatic enough!” You countered earning a full-on laugh from your sister.

“As fun as this is. Jake is shooting me daggers for talking to you for so long. Why don’t you go talk to him and I’ll go find something else to do.” She said so nonchalantly you weren’t sure if you’d heard her right or not. Jake Seresin? The one you were supposed to avoid

You turned around connecting eyes with the blonde pilot that had captured your heart so effortlessly. Biting your lip slightly you gave him a quick wave before turning back to your sister, “What? You’re okay with this now?”

She shrugged, “He’s not that bad.”

You cocked your head to the side curiously. What the hell happened on the mission? She was usually an open book, “You’re not telling me something Nat.”

She shook her head pushing you away, “Go ask Jake then.”

Odd. Your eyes stitched together in utter curiosity. Where was this push coming from? She waved you off when you gave her a look of confusion. Turning back around you walked over to him, far less enthusiastic and far more confused than when you started your day.

When you made it to him he waited on you to speak first. A soft smile was tracing his lips as he studied your face once more. Thankful he was given the chance to look you over again. That was the first real life at stakes mission he’d been on, and it had him a little more thankful for the return to American soil he normally took for granted.

“Welcome home Lieutenant.”

His smile alone was enough to ignore any of the confusion your sister left you with moments prior, “It’s good to be home.” He paused unsure of himself. It wasn’t like him to be so cautious with somebody, but you were different. He realized that the second he laid his eyes on you a month ago. If you were anybody else he would’ve already wooed you and gotten you to sleep with him. But you weren’t just anybody else. You were you, Y/N. He was determined to do this right. For the first time in his life, he wanted something more, something serious. A woman he could show off to his friend and family. Somebody he could love and cherish. A partner to build a life with. And you, you would slide into that role so perfectly. He knew it.

He caught your eyes quickly giving him the up and down in the Navy Whites, your favorite return home uniform. They just made everybody look so polished. They made Jake look even better than he normally did. If that was even possible.

A cocky grin spread across his face knowing you felt the same way about him. Natasha all but confirmed it on the ship after everybody returned safely. You all but confirmed it with the way your eyes dragged all over his body and with the way you could hardly hold his gaze. He decided there was no time like the present to finally win you over.

“You look beautiful by the way. A true sight for sore eyes.” He brushed a lose strand of hair out of your face knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

A small laugh escaped your lips, “You’re just saying that because you’ve been stuck on a boat for three weeks with the same people.” Accepting compliments never came easy. Accepting them from the most gorgeous man standing in front of you? Impossible.

He shook his head quickly, “Trust me Y/N.” He inched closer so he was almost on top of you. If you couldn’t use your words before they weren’t going to come any quicker now. The scent of his musky cologne wafted into your nose and before you knew it your brain seemed to be short circuiting. How this man went from complete stranger to now blew your mind.

He leaned down seeing your starry gaze. Turns out he had nothing to be jealous over. You were just as smitten as he was. The evidence was written right across your love-struck expression. With a sly smile he leaned down whispering into your ear, “I thought you were drop dead gorgeous the moment I laid eyes on you back at that house party. But now that I’ve gotten to know you? You’re the most beautiful woman in the world Y/N Trace.”

Your jaw literally dropped when your brain decided to process his words, “Jake…” Your eyes shot straight to his lips before looking back into his eyes. He caught that. He caught every subtle move you decided to make. He was absolutely enamored with everything you did.

“Yes?” He asked once he reluctantly pulled away from your ear. He also noticed you shaking off the shiver that his actions delivered. He was enjoying this far too much. He could do practically anything and get a reaction out of you.

You sucked in a breath finding the courage to look him in the eyes once more, “Do you mean that?”

Without skipping a beat, he answered you, “Absolutely sweetheart.”

The smile that spread across your face could’ve cured a thousand diseases. Jake had decided. His own face spread into a big goofy grin feeling so damn good getting that one off his chest, “Nat isn’t going to be very happy.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me pretty girl, why’s that?” He inched just a step closer daring to rest a gentle hand on your hip. You let him, leaning into his touch softly.

You nodded quickly, “Because I think you’re fucking gorgeous Jake Seresin.”

The language paired with the delicate dress and sweet face would’ve sent him over the edge had they not been in such a public place with more than a few pairs of curious eyes on them, “Got a mouth on ya sweetheart, don’t you?” He shot you a wink.

“You know my sister right? She’s been like that her whole life. I think we came out of the womb cussing.” You grinned leaning into it. Maybe it wasn’t something to be so proud of, but you didn’t really give a damn. It meant survival in your crazy, chaotic Italian family.

He gave you one long look before whispering once more, “You don’t know just how bad I want kiss you right now. But your sister is staring right at the two of us, so I’ll spare you the lecture.”

You giggled feeling a rush of euphoria course through every vein in your body. Damn how did do that?

Pulling back once more he brushed his hand along the back of your arm making sure to keep you close, “Instead I’ll settle on this instead. Y/N, would you go on a date with me?”

“Absolutely.” You would’ve been embarrassed with how quickly you answered him but the smile that spread across his face spared you from that.

“Busy tonight?” He asked gauging your reaction.

“Tonight?” You didn’t want to admit just how quickly you liked

He nodded, “If you’re free.”

“I’d love to.” You agreed knowing that you’d be able to kiss him tonight. That certainly wasn’t in your plans today, but you were more than happy to change course for him.

He gave your hip a gentle squeeze, “I’ll pick you up at 7.”

“What should I wear?”

“That. Don’t change. You look beautiful as ever sweetheart.” He reached for a hand wanting to hold it for a quick second while Nat turned away conversing with Bradshaw. By the rate she was speaking she didn’t look too thrilled with what was going down between the two of you. She couldn’t be that upset though, she did just throw the two of you together.

“You flatter me Jake.” You laughed softly trying to play it cool.

He gave your hand a soft squeeze before dropping it, “That’s my job.”

You shook your head with ease, “I’ll see you at 7?” You asked before turning away from him, ending the emotion fueled conversation.

“That you will.”

“Oh, and Jake? One more thing.” You smiled up at him.

“Yeah?”

You gave him one long look over, “You really are gorgeous. I wasn’t kidding when I said that earlier.”

Was that a blush that you managed to give him? It looked like it and man did it make him look even more handsome than ever. That was your new mission. Get Jake to blush whenever possible. You just knew you might be getting yourself into the most fun thing that crossed your life’s path to date.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged

Request Taglist: @stuffingbuttsandshit

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfic #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #jake seresin x oc #jake series #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #hangman seresin #jake seresin angst #jake seresin au #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fluff #hangman x you #hangman x oc #hangman adam page #hangman au #hangman angst #hangman fic #hangman fanfiction #hangman fluff #jake hangman fic

[dreamlogic]

re: tags on prev post, i lied about not having any internally felt sense of gender. i feel gender euphoria when:

- engaging in faggotry (love seeing my angular hairy body in femme clothing, and feel significantly more masculine in the context of my attraction to men)

- when it's funny to be a man

- when i get to scare the shit outta cis men by unexpectedly & abruptly dropping the masc mask to fuck w/ their gender hangups

- when meeting Softboys, cause often there's this muscle of kneejerk performativity cis guys have had drilled in since childhood that unclenches around me when they learn i'm trans and it's beautiful. it's hard to explain but for example; my housemate's boyfriend, an absolutely jacked 6'3" woodworker who wears big clompy cowboy boots, sometimes shyly & politely asks me gender questions and we bond over how fucked up and pointless the Intricate Rituals™ are. or my dad, early in my transition, earnestly asking me if he was a woman because he's always felt more emotional and nurturing than he was supposed to as a man. i asked him if he felt like a woman at all, if he wanted to be one, explained dysphoria to him for context. he thought about that for a long moment and said no. so i was like well then i think that just means you're a man with a big heart.

- when i get to be a gentleman and/or model healthy nurturing supportive masculinity, especially rewarding with kids & old ladies (shout-out to the grandmother & grandson who flagged me down on the street once because "his mama told him boys can't have long hair, but look at you! that's just not true")

- when someone calls me "good boy" and my tail wags so hard

#lists #gender tag #ctxt #meatsuit renno #trans stuff #i love being trans!!! i love not having a gender!!! i love being a man!!! #these things are true simultaneously they r holding hands in my chest cavity!!!

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 49

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

What would you do if you walked in on Donnie like how @inky-spikes drew him for this week's chapter art?

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Excuse me while I get incredibly mushy; you may known my rise origins, disastisfied with content, setting out to write my own love story, but did you know that I had never properly interacted with a fandom before? Why would I? I'm the type of person to only want to do what i want. This doesn't mean I'm not open to possibiltise, I love a good time saver and the truth, but most often, I just stay my funky little coruse. Then I received a piece of fanart.

I've always told myself, if you get fanart then you've made it. Well, I didn't know how much I had made it when I started talking to @unknownfanartist

It is not hyperbole when I say that I can credit everything about where I am now to my Contessa. Sure, I have my writing, but she gave me my community. Her friendship and the many others I hold dear now, she was the one who gave me every single one of those oppurtunties.

How does someone pay that back?

I've written her fics, is that enough?

It never feels like it.

I wouldn't be surrounded by anywhere near as much love if it wasn't for her. I wouldn't have found the people who bring me joy if it wasn't for her. My rise obsession probably wouldn't even be where it is today without her.

How do you pay that back?

I can't.

I can only use my words to show and say how incredibly thankful I am that you came out of the woodwork to draw little old me a scene from my silly little turtle fic. Contessa, I not only dedicate this chapter to you, but I have written it as an homage. I've jammed it with as many refrences to your work as possible while also slipping in some of your usual mannerisms.

Merry Christmas and thank you always.

P.S. @morning-sun-brah that includes you too because you opened the Pragma Elysium gates. I remember fondly waiting on pins and poodles to await your little updates. I have an ode to you here as well!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: bra removal, clit rubbing, breast teasing

You were shamelessly staring at your boyfriend.

In his usual spot on the couch, he was hunched forward in a way that made you worry about even his softened shell. With your phone on one knee, he had his tech gauntlet folded up to his face where code was spinning around his wrist. On your device's screen, a battle was flicking and flashing with all sorts of attacks. Attached by some unseen cord, data from the game was being sent right to Donnie’s gauntlet where he was studying it.

You adored him.  

It didn’t matter that he didn’t care about video games or understood anything you were talking about; he was a trooper. When you’d mistakenly gotten into this mobile game for its characters, he’d listened without judgment as you yammered on about the designs. Every time you thrust your phone into his face to show him something, he indulged your delight. When you left him for hours on end as you combed through the story line, he simply busied himself with other things while only occasionally disturbing you to remind you to hydrate or something similar.

Not quite as obsessed as Coral, who’d already spent an obscene amount of money on the game. You kept playing relegated to once a night for sanity's sake. Your plan had worked for about a week until it became increasingly necessary for you to put forth actual effort into the battles if you wanted to keep progressing. One too many rules and all sorts of caveats, you’d gotten by on sheer luck until it ran out. With Coral barely able to keep her mouth shut about what was to come, you’d been forced to buckle down and study.

Scheduling the evening to figure it out, Donnie was buried in a project designing something on his own and hadn’t minded in the slightest. Armed with the wiki, you began the tedious study of combat logistics. Cramming for what felt like hours, you adjusted your team in all the recommended ways and restarted said battle only for it to yield the same result. Having back-ups prepared, you switched around your character’s positions and began anew only for the timer to run out even sooner. Unable to accept what was happening, you reverted to the original team. In a mystified stupor, you watched a greater failure and somehow worse result. Spurned, you spent the next 30 minutes in an ever deepening spiral as your losses piled on one after the other. 

It didn't make sense. 

You did everything right. 

You followed all the suggestions.

By the time you scrambled over to Donnie, you were sure the look on your face was a horrified one.

It thankfully hadn’t worried him, but he’d abandoned his work to help you immediately.  

All found him sitting, examining the game’s code, and mumbling something about DPS and buffs.

You wanted to kiss him nearly as much as you needed to win.

The latter winning out by the tiniest margin, you watched on with building affection until he turned toward you.

“While the damage ratio may appear the same, the actual amount dealt by your opponent is being randomly generated within a certain range.”

“So the RNG gods are frowning upon me?” You sulked.

He hummed with some altruistic form of sympathy.

The current match ended with another loss. “I guess I’ll just run it over and over until I get the right number.”

“Or…” Donnie flicked his data wheel and then hit restart on the fight.

You sat up and watched as the same attack patterns went by, but this time you were dominating.

Donnie tapped the screen to dispel a few debuffs and you won.

“Yes!” You leapt and he caught you while lifting your phone out of the way. “Thank you! Thank you!”

He allowed you to ply him with kisses. “I can adjust the code accordingly.”

“Cheating?” You asked with your lips still to his cheek.

“You won’t be caught. A few imperceptible lines.”

“Done!” You removed yourself to give him space.

He chuckled and brought back up his screens to apply whatever he had in mind.

Back to watching him, you couldn’t help but muse over how his deviousness had been watered down. This once wretched villain now hacked mobile games for his love and your heart overflowed. He had done undeniable bad, but in only a year he came to lavish in his choice. Living finally came to him easily and you were overjoyed to be a participant of that journey. 

“Hey, Don.”

“Hm?” He had a small smile on his lips as he ran a new battle and studied the metrics it produced.

“Can I be the villain?”

“Of course.” He spun his code. “What do you covet, my dearest? We’ll put on a great heist.”

“I want to steal from you.”

He still didn’t look as the battle was won once again. “Something other than my heart?”

You had to put your face in your hands.

He was in a good mood which proved fatal for your heart.

Peering between your fingers found his smile spread wide. “You goofball, that’s not what I meant.”

“Done. Do tell me if you have any other issues.” He offered you your phone. “How then?”

“Thanks.” You hugged your device to your chest. “You like it when I pull one over on you.”

He slowed, clearly going through his memories.

“What better way…” Giving your game a parting goodbye, you left it on the cushions in favor of crawling towards him. “… then at your own profession?”

He sank into the couch to receive you. “In no demeaning way, in a no hold’s barred scenario, I’m not sure you’d be able to.”

“No?” Lifting onto your knees, you straddled him.

You saw his fingers twitch from where his arms laid out across the back of the couch.

You cradled his jaw and inched forward until your lips almost brushed his. “All the times I deceived you?”

“Underestimation.” He murmured, resisting to close the gap.

“Afraid?” You tilted your head and ghosted your mouth against his.

“I won’t fall for goading.” One of his arms slipped from its perch, but didn’t come around you.

“Test it then. What do you have to lose?” You gave him a protogenic kiss.

“Nothing I suppose…” He chased you for another chaste press.

You nosed along his jaw. “I’ll try to steal from you.”

“Everything mine is yours.” He sighed contented.

You pulled back to stare at him dully. “Roleplay.”

“You make a captivating honeypot.” He caught your hips and yanked them down for a grind.

You chewed your lip as your eyes rolled back. “N-not that.”

“Explain.” His grip loosened, but you felt his fingers at the ready.

“A game of keep away. See how much you still have in you.”

“You don’t believe I’ve gone soft.” He studied you.

“No, but I’m your weak spot right? How will you fare against me?”

His expression opened up for genuine surprise. “Fascinating…”

“See what I mean now?”

“Yes.” He urged you off his lap and you reluctantly tucked in beside him. “I won’t be going all out.”

“Worried about my safety?” You asked.

“Those aren’t terms. That’s a fact.” He adjusted his pants.

You flicked your gaze down to check what he'd fixed and he tapped a digit to your nose.

You swatted at him and he chuckled. “Clear mind. If someone were to steal from me, I’d employ all means necessary to get it back.”

You nodded remembering he’d mentioned something about that when revealing his backstory.

“I could torture you, but in ways you already know.”

“Not edging!” You whined, throwing your head back.

“The prize is sex then. Not a means to be utilized.” He offered his hand.

You took it with a squeeze. “Okay… Is this just an ‘if I win’ sort of bargain?”

He looked up to the ceiling in thought. “Let’s both win.”

“Even if I’m not successful?” You leaned your head against the couch and stroked his thumb. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Never.” He returned and seared an intensity into your eyes. “You’ll have gone up against me and survived. That’s clout enough.”

“I’ll be able to go to the Hidden City and brag at some bar?”

“You would most certainly be taken to meet someone’s boss if so.”

The honesty with which he’d said that9 brought your head up. “Oh…”

“What a way to meet Big Mama.” He rolled his eyes.

“Not doing that.” You gave an awkward laugh.

“A dry spell to enhance the achievement?”

“No sex until… when?” You worried over the last time such a restriction was implemented.  

He pressed your hand open to pair up his fingers to yours. “Two waves. One week to steal from me, we rejoice as soon as you do. Then another if you can keep it from me, broken if I find it.”

Giving a Vulcan salute to match him, you opened and closed the ‘V.’ “I win, you win.”

“Even, no harm. We stave off the pain of last time.”

Trying to foresee pitfalls, you slid off his pads to thread your fingers. “It sounds good… Is there something specific I should take?”

“Your choice.” He dipped in for a quick peck. “It’s all yours regardless.”

“Menace.” You whispered against him.

His smile said he agreed.

“Wanna start after a little…?” You pulled on his hand.

“Very much so. Yes!” He shifted the tide to pull you to him.

-

Donnie was in the shower.

It had only been a few hours since the heist begun and, having spent most of it in bed, he’d left you to rest while he washed up. Waiting to hear the telltale sound of the shower hitting a body, you snatched the closest thing to you and stowed away into the kitchen. Slamming the tap there on, you ducked down below the counter.

“Shelly?”

A single curious buzz came from your tech gauntlet.

“Mess with Donnie’s implants!”

A confirming buzz responded.

“Okay… Uh…” Turning over Donnie’s much larger gauntlet, you were sure you had previously seen it in some kind of smaller form. “Darling Protocol… shrink?”

The metal sat useless in your hands.

“Darling Protocol small!”

You shook the long band.

“Shorten! Reduce! Condense! Little! Mini!”

Staring, you resisted the urge to chuck it out a window.

Your wrist buzzed with interest.

“No, I have to do this. I feel bad enough I already asked for your help, but the stupid protocol is voice activated.”

More buzzing occurred and you could tell it was S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. wanting to know what was going on.

“It’s a… game we’re playing. I’m the villain and I’m trying to steal Donnie’s tech gauntlet, but it’s too big!”

Your band was silent and you ignored it in favor of the frustrating one.

“I don’t understand… How does this thing get all compact?”

Upon the last syllable, Donnie’s gauntlet shrank to the size of a watch.

“Synonym stickler.” You grouched before raising up.

“Darling protocol…” You tried to think of the way he’d say it. “Disengage tracker.”

Nothing happened, but you almost figured it wouldn’t.

“Oh, Darling Protocol sleep mode!”

With its holographic display, it looked like nothing more than a glorified bracelet. You couldn’t remember having ever seen Donnie charge the thing. It seemed indestructible and waterproof, but he had removed it on several occasions as you did yours. Since the apartment was fully under his command, he only really needed the device when he left.

“Can he track you now…?” You wondered, turning the object over.

Buzz. Buzz.

“You’re not supposed to help-! Wait, I got it?”

Buzz.

“You’re not doing it, right? Swear to me. I need to be the one.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

“Yes or no!”

It was impressive how much sass S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. could inject into a single vibration.

“… Yes you’re doing it or…?”

Donnie’s computer lit up.

Walking over to it, you saw  S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s little icon waiting there with annoyed impatience and a taping foot. “Hey, you updated your avatar to look like your new body!”

‘Thanks for noticing. You like?’ The little avatar did a twirl.

“I do, it’s very cute.”

He gave a gentlemanly bow.

“Did you help me?”

‘Now you ask a yes or no question?’ His lids lowered with put on irritation. 

“Shelly, please. I’m in a hurry.”

‘And I wasn’t busy? It’s 9:37pm on a Thursday.’

“Oh…” You lowered your gaze and pulled the gauntlet close. “That’s true. I’m sorry.”

His avatar appeared at the bottom of the screen with a wagging finger. ‘It’s a joke. I can be in up to 14 locations at once, no probbles!’

“Only 14?”

He snickered. ‘You’re right. It’s been a while since I last calculated. Should I test it? Dare me!’

“Some other time, I’m really sorry for assuming you’d be at my beck and call…”

‘You didn’t assume wrong, but accepted and, to clarify, I did not tamper. You got the correct bypass.’ He threw his hand up and a little log with a time stamped list of commands last executed appeared.

“Awesome, thank you!”

‘Have fun and fill me in later!’

“Will do!”

He saluted before he disappeared along with the light of the machine.

Looking down over the tidy desk, you scanned the surface. You had seen enough movies to know that hiding something in plain sight was one of the best ways to pull off a grift. It needed to be somewhere that didn’t attract attention and was easily overlooked. Finding nothing where a cylinder of metal could disappear here, you kept your feet moving as you rounded the apartment. Shower still going steady, you felt the urgency as you imagined he was nearly done washing himself off. From the paintings that adorned the walls to the coat rack near the door, nothing appeared right. Ready to return to the kitchen and unearth some rarely used pot, a glimmer of something caught your eye.

Slowing, you stared and had to study the space until you caught the source. Standing at his post stood the astronaut that had been forced back into your possession when you moved in. The metallic film on his visor threw an errant beam, but up close your body shadowed the piece. He hadn’t been altered much since his stay and, in fact, had mostly been forgotten about. A mainstay in the space now, you flipped his little visor up and down a few times to hide his haunting face.

Thinking it over for a moment, you gave a smile before digging your claws into the hinge. With little effort, the plastic snapped off and you set the toy back on the shelf just so. Making several adjustments so he was exactly as he was, you then moved to drop the miniaturized tech gauntlet over his face. It took twice the amount of fiddling, but you eventually got it to sit and turned in a way that looked similar to his true brim. Stepping back, you tried to recreate the light flicker effect, but it wasn’t the same. The metal had a different sheen than the plastic, but you smiled. Deeming it a cute first try, you imagined Donnie would probably find it in the next hour.

With evidence to dispose of, you wandered back to the kitchen long enough to throw the visor away. You imagined you’d at least keep Donnie on his toes with this little stunt and wondered if you should steal something else as a double bluff. Sleep tugged against the thought so you returned to bed with a giddy feeling. The dopamine rush reminded you of your game and you gave into the delusion that it might inspire you. Jumping in, you found dominating the battles to be infinitely more fun. Almost forgetting all about the roleplay, the story in your game finally progressed and you ate up the new dialog until Donnie emerged.

“Your turn.” He spoke casually as he rounded the bed to his side.

“Mhm, in’a minute.” You tapped viciously on your screen to get rid of some little dust bunny enemies zapping HP.

Not seeing as much as hearing, Donnie approached his side table and stopped. “Really?”

“Yeah, almost done.” Clearing the field, there was a burst of text that signaled some victory. “Ah, this is so great. Thanks again!”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You let your phone fall flat on your chest and turned to look at him.

“My gauntlet.”

“Your-” You blinked wide before the recognition struck you. “-what?”

He threw his weight on one hip to stare down at you, bored.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You salvaged a little dismissive persona. “I’m going to shower.”

“Technicality.”

You sat up and threw your legs over the side of the bed.

“This feels…”

He held his pause a little too long so you turned to look over your shoulder.

He was waiting there with a blasé expression. “…uninspired.”

You shrugged. 

“Wallet, keys, phone. Infantile.”

 “Oh no.” You dulled your voice for faux worry. “You must have misplaced it.”

Donnie sighed before bringing a hand up. “S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. I assume?”

“No.” You gave a sharp retort.

“He leaves a trail.” He raised one of his brows and you watched the whole apartment take on a faint purple light.

Standing and looking over your violet tinted skin, you turned a hand over to hear Donnie make a noise of confusion. “Find your trail?” You exaggerated your own brow at your boyfriend.

“He could have used the door.” Donnie grumbled, walking into the next room.

Knowing that’d be right next to where you’d stashed the gauntlet, you smiled at how you'd gotten the timeline right. Giving right up, you went to take your shower. You sometimes worried about the other tenants, but you loved how your apartment never ran out of hot water. Soaking up all ill gotten glory, you emerged a steamed bun and ambled out in a fluffy towel to find Donnie sitting on the bed with a laptop you’d never seen.

“What are we hacking tonight?” You mused and meant to sit down next to him. With your muscles liquefied, you let yourself fall over and bumped your wet head up against his bare thigh.

He made an irritated noise and jumped. “What did you have him do?”

“Who?” You rolled your head to look at him.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.!”

It was a blow to your relaxed form. “I didn’t get Shelly’s help. In fact, I called him up just to tell him that.”

“Then how did you-?” He cut himself off with closed eyes and pinched the bridge of his snout. “Darling Protocol.”

“Took awhile to get the right words. At least you didn’t program the codes in.”

“I’m changing that.” He started furiously typing.

“No, come on!” You playfully whined and grabbed at him.

He leaned away from your touch. “I’ll bind the print outs. I estimate a 24 volume set.”

“What did I even graduate for!?” You bemoaned and wiggled off the bed to get into your pajamas. “Now here's your torture.”

“I’ll print it so small you'll need a magnifying glass.”

“The horror.” Pulling your towel off, you rubbed furiously at your hair. “What are you doing?”

“Locating it.”

“Fun. I assume there’s trackers in everything, but me. Is there one in the couch?”

The only indication Donnie heard you was a little smile quirking the corner of his lips.

Leaving him to his task, you finished getting ready for bed and, as you were about to tuck yourself in, you found him sat in the exact the same way. “You gonna sleep?”

He stopped by extending his fingers and holding them over the keyboard. “True.”

“What?”

He closed his laptop and turned to you with a heated stare. “For the time being, you’ve earned your first prize.”

You giggled as he came in with kneading fingers to your waist and a kiss to your cheek. “You’re wonderful, but can I bank it?”

He kissed a few more times until you would relent with your lips. “Suit yourself.”

“Do I get to keep it after you find it?”

He perked up and released you. “It’s close.”

You rolled your eyes into laying down. “Sure it is, Don. Answer please.”

“It’s… not?” He stared you down.

“Donnie.” Your pillow was beckoning you.

“This was not discussed.”

“Banking?”

“Multiple thefts.”

“I figured it balanced.” You snuggled down into the sheet. “Each one you find is a win for you too.”

He made a satisfied sound as he thought it over.

“Goodnight kiss if you’re going to stay up and obsess?”

Holding on for a few more seconds, he collapsed down beside you with enough force that it bounced your head from your pillow.

“Hey!”

“I suppose it’s no rush. I have the entire time you’re at work.”

“Mhm.” Your lids felt heavy.

He kissed your forehead and moved the laptop in his grasp. “I have to put this up.”

“Where’d you get that, anyway?”

“Mm, don’t worry about it.” He almost nuzzled your hairline, but found it damp so he hopped  out of bed to put the laptop away.

-

Waking first found you oddly calm. Consciousness came comfortably and recognition over what had occurred the previous night drifted to you. Capturing it with open eyes, you watched your partner’s sleeping form before dragging yourself out of bed. You’d make him breakfast for a change and, in only a slightly hunched stupor, you shuffled over to the kitchen. It was there, with the hidden object just across the room, that you had to keep reminding yourself over and over not to look. Checking would make it obvious. You needed to own this. You’d stolen from him, successfully so far, and that was the whole point of being bad.

You had said you wanted to be a villain.

Was that relegated to one nefarious act?

Pulling out a frying pan to make scrambled eggs, you pondered this query.

Villains were supposed to be evil, but Donnie had never struck you as truly bad. Doing a mental timer as the metal heated up, you folded yourself against the counter to stare at the egg carton. Wondering about the colloquial bad egg, it wasn’t something you could always tell by looking. One that was truly rotten would smell, but that didn’t mean all the bad ones stank. Instead, there were tests, things like floating it in water or getting it all the way to your lips. Nothing in the world was so black and white.

Flicking your gaze to the clock, it was about time so you spread a bit of butter to prevent sticking. Adding the eggs in, one crack at a time, you stirred them to make the scramble. A bit of toast sounding like a nice addition, you switched course. Lowering the heat and you left the eggs for a new appliance. Getting a toaster, you slotted the bread in and looked back over the bar. Clear across the apartment through sheer curtains, your egg was still tucked into his carton. Mostly a cozy lump, putting him in water revealed little other than it calmed him like a balm.

Life was the test of proclivities.

Everyone came in all kinds.

The world shades of moral grey and you fit into that same bland color palette.

Slowing at the thought where you hadn’t moved, you gave an amused puff of air.

How did you fit into all that?

You had been called good and bad over the years with a varying sense of hyperbole. For the average person, you imagined this wasn’t the sort of thing people applied to themselves. They read it in stories where the characters were exaggerated and it was usually clear who the antagonist was. The balancing scales weighing your heart to a feather was mythos. 

Turning around with the toast giving an almost done, you scoured the cabinet as quietly as you could. Slipping a bowl free with only a minor clink of ceramic, you set it down and riffled for your cereal. The type of food Donnie often chided you as not actually being suited for breakfast, you poured a bowl and unplugged the toaster just as it seemed it would pop. Switching between tasks, you plated up the eggs meant for two on one plate with the toast and then splashed a healthy amount of milk into the cereal bowl. Situated, you then sauntered back to bed and over to your partner's side.

He was facing outward which helped as you parted the curtains with your plate. Holding it up towards his snout, you watched the tiniest wrinkle as the scent of breakfast invaded his dreams. Within moments he was blinking awake and humming with slurred affection over you having made breakfast.

“I’ll leave yours here.” You told him warmly.

He hummed having been given the space to wake and you left the cereal behind to go eat your eggs in the living room.

You had just about gotten through your usual portion when you heard a snort of disdain. Trying not to laugh around the tines of the fork, you traded it for a point of toast.

“Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

Silence chased you and you put on your best pious pose as you waited for him to approach. It took a moment, but he appeared, standing nude and with the bowl clasped in one hand. Flowing a gentle current of irritation, he waited for some type of explanation.

“It’ll get soggy.” You offered.

“It’s already soggy.” He bit back.

“Shame. You were too slow I guess.” 

“You didn’t even leave me a spoon.”

“No?” You scooped another forkful of eggs into your mouth.

“Your ploys continue to be childish.” He turned to the kitchen and disposed of his breakfast.

“Crazy these kid games are landing, huh?” You chomped down on toast.

There was another minor bout of silence before he turned the tap on.

-

You were assaulted by your boyfriend as soon as you got home from work. Squeaking at the sudden intrusion, you almost thought it was a hug before his hands roved right into your clothes. Trying to fend him off as you were still half in the hallway, you were no match for his speed and strength.

“Donnie, what are you doing?!” Your voice warbled as he yanked your shirt straight up your body. “Stop, stop!!”

“Where is it?!” He growled, tugging your shirt down to bring you to his squat eye level.

“Where-ah!” Sliding into your pants he squeezed your ass cheeks. “Q-quit!!!”

Several angry clicks sounded in your ear until he lurched backwards, ready to pounce again in a moment’s notice. “My gauntlet! You took it with you! On your person!”

“I didn’t!” The reply popped out of you before you could grab it.

“It’s not here!” His eyes continued to scan you.

“It’s not-?!” You might have felt confusion if your blood pressure hadn't plummeted at the sight of  downy stuffing on the ground.

Stepping forward and pushing your angrily clacking partner out of the way, you found the apartment turned upside down. From the couch, where he’d ripped it to shreds, to the kitchen, where all the cabinets were open and leaking, you knew the bedroom had to be in a similar state.

A short, rattling breath emerged from your lips as you did a slow rotation. Not hooking on it, but passing by, you saw the little astronaut standing a proud protector on his lone shelf where he hadn’t been disturbed.

The spaceman had failed at one job and succeeded in another.

Some protector. 

“Donnie, what the fuck!?” You shoved him.

“Where is it!?” He was immobile.

“That’s the point!” You shoved him again and he relented a single step for your sake.

“Yes, but it doesn’t make sense! You had no planning! You had no time! Without S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s help how could you have-!?”

You slammed your palms into his plastron over and over.

He made a few irritated snorts until he let you push him back several steps.

“You are being such a jerk!”

A light bulb went off for him. “You did plan.” He walked away and you were left to stew with your coat hanging off one shoulder. “You proposed the scenario. You must have been plotting. For how long?” He walked up to his computer where all sorts of models were running.

“It was spur of the moment!”

Without a keyboard, lines of information were being written at an alarming rate.

“Donatello!”

“Depending on the length of time you had, any number of scenarios could have been implemented. If I take into account-”

Slamming the door behind you, you stormed back down the hallway and toward the elevator. “Shelly! Ugh, I know this is last minute and we just talked about it, but…”

Buzz!

“Wanna go get dinner?”

The single vibration nearly rocked off your tech gauntlet off your wrist.

-

“So being villain was fun for ten whole seconds.” You rolled the liquid in your glass where you were plopped down on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s couch and had just finished catching him up.

Similarly aerating his wine, he held his goblet up as if he were making a toast. “Dump him!”

You snorted and had to scramble not to spill.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. repeated himself with a cheer that did cause wine to slosh out. Only for him, a mechanical arm appeared out of his back and wiped the liquid straight out of the air before it could fall.

“Woah…” The sound came out of you as your glass neared your lips.

“I’m sorry, but I’m having a blast right now.”

“I can see that.” You chuckled.

“Pizza at a real dirty restaurant, whine session with wine, like this is the thing! I’m doing it!”

“The human thing?” You asked after a sip.

“Yes!” His eyes turned into stars.

“I mean, you’re crushing it.” You turned and looked around what was a quintessential bachelor pad. Though the layout was identical to Donnie’s preference, the rooms themselves looked like movie sets. With a proper clutter budget, clothes were strewn about just so, little knick knacks made the space feel homey and there were even dirty dishes in the sink. “Did you have someone over?”

“Huh? No. Why?”

You gestured around with a sweep of your glass.

“Oh, pfft. That’s all me. I like to mess around and I like the way the space is. Feels like me, ya know?”

You softened. “Yeah.”

“I stole the dishes.” He pointed.

“Why?” You shook your head at how ridiculous he was.

“I don’t wanna clean the kitchen.”

“So, don’t use it!”

“I didn’t!” He chirped.

“You just wanted the sink full.”

“It looked lonely.” He tipped his head, commiserating.

“You know I thought this place was going to be nothing but a charging port.”

“Ew.”

“Right?”

“That is what dad gave me, but I ordered a bunch of stuff as soon as he left.”

“He’s ridiculous.”

“Dump him!”

“No!” You kicked at S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and he let it connect for a metal thunk. “Ah!”

“Oops.” He leaned forward to study your leg. “You good?”

“No, yeah, sorry. I just forgot cause usually…”

“People dodge.” He snickered. “Not people.” He reminded you and then poured himself over the back of the couch. “See those clothes there.”

You looked where he was pointing. “Sure.”

“None of those fit. Those are just for decoration, but I have been trying new ones since I can now!”

“Fashion show?”

His eyes sparkled and he tossed his glass behind him where it smashed into the wall.

“Shelly!”

“My house, my rules!!!” He screamed as he launched himself, fists in the air, over the couch and into his bedroom.

Modeling several looks from something grungy where he’d smeared black oil under his eyes to something preppy enough for a country club, he was twisting in a simple t-shirt and jeans when he dropped right out of his purchasing process explanation for something else. “So, where’d you hide it?”

“You know.” You were draped over the couch.

“Yeah, but pretend I don’t.”

“That’s a secret.” You grinned.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gasped. “In my own dojo!”

“I know!” You lifted a scandalized hand to your mouth.

“It’s wild though.”

“That he didn’t look there? Yeah.”

“Huh? No, but he kinda did.”

“What do you mean?” You lifted up.

A screen appeared in your face showing Donnie right next to the door in your apartment. Borderline feral and nearly crawling around on all fours, you watched him storm by the astronaut with his head on a constant swivel before he disappeared out of the camera's frame.

You let out a single satisfied laugh. “Dummy.”

“You can barely tell on the feed.”

“It looks good in person too. The only thing is it goes all the way around. If he had moved it, he’d have seen it wasn’t right.” You twirled a finger in demonstration.

“Why’s Major Creeponaut duct taped? Did you try to shove it inside?”  

You chuckled. “Nah, that was from our first kiss.”

“So gross!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. screamed at the ceiling. “Tell me everything.”

“Do you want to know or not?” You laughed.

“Not at all. Tell me.” He took a few hopping steps over before he plopped down, legs crossed, in front of you.

“When a mommy and daddy love each other very much…” You began.

“Stop, stop!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. threw his arms out in waving embarrassment.

“They have the urge to-!”

“No, seriously stop!”

You blinked, waiting.

“You’re getting a message.”

You stared at him for a moment before you turned. “My phone’s on silent from work…”

“So?”

“How do you know?” Looking around, you searched for your bag and found your device.

“How do I explain…?” He rocked to one side. “I can hear the other electronics near me? Kinda like how you hear voices.”

“You’re not tapping in…?” You stared at an increasing number of messages from Donnie.

“I might be like dad, but I’m not dad.”

“It wasn’t comparing you to Donnie...” You thumbed over the preview which was an apology. “You literally stole dirty dishes.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. let the comment sink in before he started laughing. “Oh, true that!”

-

Returning home, your boyfriend once again met you at the door. This time without the attack, he sullenly apologized and you gave him a proper hug. Kissing him back to a baseline mood, he scooped you up, carried you through an immaculate apartment, and to a freshly made bed. He set you down only to curl up in your lap where you rubbed his carapace as he opened up.

“I can’t… leave without my gauntlet.”

“Don’t you have another?” You spread your nails out for an even scratch.

He gave a heady hum and rooted closer to you. “Sentimental.”

“That one’s special?”

He nodded into your thigh. “There’s three more like yours, but only one of mine.”

“Tell me about it.”

Slouching, he sighed. “Not a first, but one of my more important inventions. A universal remote of sorts, it was my backup for my goggles.”

“The ones that short circuited?” You kept one hand to his carapace and used the other to brush the scarring on the side of his head.

He nodded. “I’ve never replaced it. I’ve been upgrading the original.”

Your hand stopped. “That’s… how old is it?”

“Older than S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.”

“I didn’t… know.”

“I didn’t mention.”

“I’m sorry…”

He shook his head. “No, me.”

You patted him. “That’s not withholding, it wouldn’t come up. Do you know how old my phone is?”

“Yes, I know the model.”

“But did I get it the year it came out?” You tilted your head to glimpse his face.

His eyes moved as he thought that over. “Did you?”

“No, two years after. I was so mad; they released the next gen like a week after I got it.”

He didn’t make a sound, but squeezed you.

“Want it back? I’ll take something else.”

He thought for a long moment and you went back to giving him scritches.

He made a little hum before he spoke. “Is it safe?”

“Very.”

“I’ll make do.”

“You sure? It’s really not a big deal.”

He shook his head and reluctantly rose up. “You were successful. I want to honor that.”

“This wasn’t supposed to make either of us uncomfortable though.” Your hand dragged up to his shoulder.

“I’ll survive.” He kissed your hand with confirmation. “Besides, I’ve moved on to the next stage.”

“You’re not looking for it anymore?”

“Oh, I am, but I’ll need information.”

“Shelly’s records are closed and you didn’t find anything at the scene of the crime.” 

His head tipped back and forth as if weighing the options. “Typically I’d move onto kidnapping, extortion, torture, blackmail…”

You stared at him with a growing gaze. “I’m in for quite the week.”

“You think me relentless now?” He almost purred as he leaned into you.

You hummed in return, not taking the bait of his lips.

“Tomorrow.” He confirmed before pouncing on you to shove his carapace back under your digits.

-

Your morning began with retribution for yesterday’s breakfast. You were served what looked like a normal meal, but the orange juice had been all pulp, the eggs were covertly stuffed with shells, and the bottom half of your toast was burnt to a crisp. Laughing at the forethought, you got yourself cereal and he did an amused peacocking as he readied for his day.

Being the first to the bathroom, you hid his toothbrush in the shower.

He found it soon enough, but you heard him knock a few things over in the process.

Getting dressed found he had left all your clothes pristine, but had swapped all the drawers where they usually sat.

Laughing over how he must have prepared that one the previous day, you scurried to the door with a premonition. 

“Wait.” He trailed after, getting his head through a sweater.

You held a guard on your shoulders. “What?”

He made a timeout symbol and you relaxed. Pulling you close, his hands dug into your lower back as he languidly kissed you. Melting into him, you felt his hands move against you before a jingle sounded and he ran. 

“There was a time out!” You chased after him and your keys.

“I timed it back in.” He ducked around the bed. “Return my gauntlet!”

“Never!” You pivoted and charged the kitchen.

“Damnit!” You heard him leap. 

“No! I was here first!” Banging your body against a cabinet, you covered the drawer containing the spare with your body.

You screeched with laughter as he hooked an arm around your waist to lift you out of the way. “You should learn to use your opponent’s power against them.” 

“Or!” You got hold of the keys before letting your body go slack. It shifted his hold and gave you a momentary break. Just long enough to drop down to the ground and break free, you crawled the few steps out from where his long legs impeded him from making another grab. “Bye! See you after work!” You cheered and exited the apartment to him giving an annoyed huff.

-

The next few days found an escalation in what you referred to as the school yard bully ploy. Keeping it playful, it amounted to a prank war the likes of nothing you’d ever experienced. The back and forth sabotage was quickly subverted by your boyfriend's intelligence. Not able to hack your systems, he’d happily entered your bosses where he’d rearranged the entire calendar for the day. The ensuing mess reached throughout the company and IT was none the wiser to whatever was happening. It meant meetings with clients were missed and memos seemingly disappeared. You survived until lunch, nothing outright destructive, but it felt like pure chaos when you called Kaleb.

Your next plan of sneaking hot sauce into his food wasn't going to cut it.

With Kaleb's engineering background, your chill friend had whipped up what he referred to as a pie throwing robot in what seemed like too little time. It meant a detour after putting out office fires and meeting him at a pastry hop. There you ordered for the lot of you as a payment for your friend’s help. He’d attached spindly metal to your bakery box and sent you on your way with another request of pictures.

Promising it, you headed home with the box in tow and entered the apartment in a feigned huff. “I can’t believe you.”

Donnie spun around, smirking in his computer chair like a cartoon villain.

“I got you something still because I’m so nice!” You spoke loud and haughty.

“Pass.” His gaze narrowed on the box and though his lips turned it down, his eyes tracked you with interest.

“Suit yourself. I would never hurt a defenseless pastry.” Setting the container on the counter, you held down the little switch in the back that temporarily stopped the mechanism. You then opened the box wide so Donnie could see and picked out a croissant before closing it back up. “I’ll have your banana caramel roll for breakfast tomorrow then.”

He perked up.

Walking around and munching on your croissant, you looked at him. “Was I ruining dinner or you?”

“Take out.” His eyes were glued to where you’d just been.

“Nice, I’m ordering that place that always messes up your order.” You juggled your treat with your phone.

He made a noise of little interest as he crept over to the box.

You chewed your lip and tried to cover it with the pastry. “You gonna want the same thing?”

“Your choice.”

“Gizzards it is.”

He shot a sour look at you and you chuckled in a scroll.

Looking at it from all angles, he checked to find you trying to pointedly ignoring him.

A testing sniff to the air said he picked up on the promised treat inside and the quiet that followed indicated  your care in having Kaleb using layers of gloves had helped to cover your friend’s scent.

Cracking the lid for the softest scrape of cardboard against itself, he peered inside.

You switched over to your camera and prepared to record a video.

Finding the inside laden with treats, he opened the lid further just as you brought your phone up to track him.

In a flicking snap of metal, cream flung out and splattered across Donnie’s chest and chin.

Little snickers leaked out of you as you stepped up to record him fully. “Good, right?”

His lips were set and he opened the box further to examine the mechanism.

“Kaleb made it. He’s a prank king.”

“My regards.” Donnie grumbled, passing your phone a glance and grabbed his cake.

-

“I’m switching tactics.” Donnie announced the next night.

“What’s next?” You asked, hanging up your jacket. Thankful for the reprieve not because you’d been scorned, but simply because you were running out of ideas. 

You moved over to him.

He received you by holding out his hand.

You took it and he pulled you straight into a waltz.

Spinning with a flip of your stomach, you settled as he led you around and around.

“I’ll try my hand at seduction.”

“Is that new? I’m pretty sure I’ve fended you off before.”

“Sexual advances.” He clarified, his face neutral as he focused on the dance steps.

“Versus… what?”

“Romance.” Coming to a close, he lethally dipped you.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

“I don’t know how you’re supposed to outdo yourself.” You mumbled as he was slow to right you.

“I won’t be.”

“You’re building this up.”

He flicked a gaze at you and walked you over to the computer.

The usual plain purple background was displayed on the cluster of monitors. You looked them over before checking with him.

In a flick of his finger, you watched a large document appear. With little charts and tables, there was a bulk of words that he enhanced. Starting you at the top of the page, it read like a scientific paper, but the content was about touch limitations. Slowing after the third line, you turned to him with recognition. “This is from…”

Donnie didn’t respond and used a finger to slide to a specific paragraph. “’I find myself at a loss…’”

He was reading it aloud from memory as he stared directly at you.

“’I crave Y/N’s very being. Even as I know myself to despise contact, I find an impenetrable ache. This malady should be isolated and quarantined. This is not something to be studied. This is an ailment. A manifestation of a higher power sent to devastate my person. I consider this a visceral attack. I fear I will not recover. I’m already too far gone and therefore all data previous should be discarded. No longer the impartial party I can usually hold my standard to, I also cannot share this research with anyone. It would be revealing my heart, one that I thought had long stopped beating. It yearns now, cracking free layers of debris built up for its own protection. I will not survive this onslaught.’”

“This isn’t what you told me…”

“No..”

“You wrote this… back then…?” You were still reading over exactly what he had just spoken.

“Yes.”

“But the experiment…?” Hitting the end of the paragraph, the next picked back up with tedious data.

“I made it sound like I was doing it for your benefit.”

You nodded, your heart a steady thrum.

“I lied. This is the first recorded instance of my affection for you.”

“You make it sound like you’re dying.”

“I was.”

He hadn’t gotten any closer, but you turned to gawk at him as if he’d made some big move.

“…Care like that. It rips you apart. Rearranges your sense of self. The reason it is labeled ‘crush,’ but for me it was more.”

“Donnie…” Your insides swirled a confused mass. Though he'd since admitted his early interest, he never let on to the depths

“Do you know how long this document is?”

You looked for a little page counter, but not only could you not find one, you weren’t sure how accurate it’d be with the many tables. “No?”

“Over ten thousand words.”

You paled.

That day at the Thai restaurant, he’d spent an entire meal conveying it.                   

That must have been the shorthand version folded even further down.

“How long did this study last?”

“A week…? Or something like that. You said I was novel and sort of gave up.”

“I said many things. To you. To myself.”

“What are you saying now?”

“That I was a lost cause the moment you tried to steal my lunch.” He appeared in your face.

Your skin felt alit. Not with fire or chill, but something new. Surges of blood refreshed your body in a cleanse just for him. Prepared on a cellular level, you stepped closer with an innate shyness that you couldn't place.

You were reformed, but the you of the past emerged.

His fingers ghosted your cheek like you were too precious to touch.

It made your jaw wind as if tortured by yearning.

“I won’t say it.” Another waft of his hand urged your head to tip back without contact. “Not under these circumstances, but this is the closest yet that I’ve come to a confession-”

You kissed him.

A crushing force, he smiled into the exchange before wrapping around you.

You broke between presses for a needy ask. “My win… I need to cash it in… Now… Right now… Please?”

He nodded against your lips and steered you towards the bed.

Fumbling together you shoved at each other’s clothes until you turned to lead. “I top.”

“For the record, this isn’t-” He interrupted himself as your top hit the ground and he kissed down the new real estate of your shoulders. “-what I intended.”

“Yeah, no gauntlet for you. Upset?” You asked as the backs of his legs hit the bed.

“How could I be?” He smiled as he fell back with full confidence.

A trust fall into the mattress, he caressed your form as you crawled up to him. Kissing him senseless into the sheets, he handed himself over to your desire. An odd mismatch where only you held the mad fervor, you kicked off the rest of your clothes. Straddling him nude, you stared down at his wobbling form and he returned the gaze with abject adoration. Melting under it and wondering if this is how he felt back then, you stole his lips for the thousandth time and tried to put care into undoing his wraps.

He caught your wrists for a momentary reprieve and kissed your knuckles to calm you. Only stoking the fires, a whine escaped your throat and he reassured you with a squeeze to your arms that he was there; he wasn't going anywhere. Burying the need into him, you kissed and nipped down to your mating mark before you bit into it. His head rolled at the move and you felt the faintest insistence of his hips below yours. Not having the leverage to grind him, you instead focused on clenching your teeth with a minor gnaw until his skin broke.

You earned your favorite honed chirp.

Stomach doing backflips, you needed yourself stuffed to prevent more. Only shimmying his pants down enough to reveal his erection, you rose up adjusting his shaft at your entrance before enveloping him in one swift drop.  He exhaled sharply and you tossed your head back for a mewling noise as some basal itch was scratched. Rolling your hips into riding him, his jaw fell slack as he watched you. With his hands loosely holding the thick of your hips, he stared up as if cradling some precious treasure.

If his gaze were any indication, you were long sought and nearly unattainable. Feeling jittery, each rock sent tingles up your spinal cord. Lapping at your brain stem, misfires indicated waves of emotions, each drowning the next. From confidence to devotion, he poured them into you, not through your connection, but his gaze alone. His cock a superfluous peg there to keep you tethered and it was his face that was stirring on your ministrations.

His lips parted.

He spoke a short phrase in another language.

“No…!” You cried, grinding down hard onto him.

“It’s not proper.” He elucidated, grabbing your hands for a reassuring squeeze.

“You can’t just say it in another language like that!”

His eyes shimmered as he spoke it again in an entirely different way.

“Donnie!”

He had another and another.

You renewed your efforts, trying to stop him with your hips alone.

It only spurned more languages off his lips as he spoke his adorations in all the ways, but the one you understood.

“So unfair!” Your pitch rose several octaves as you grew close.

“I know.” He slipped out of a foreign tongue before dipping right into another.

“Then why!?”

“I won't say it like this. Not for some gambit!” He tugged down on your hips and you felt his knot expand.

“Shit, we’re g-gonna-!”

“Together!”

You could only scream his name as you both came. Body arching back to accommodate as much of him as possible, you heard a thousand words fly off his lips. Some a rehash of things you’d heard, he proclaimed a universal language of love.

Not coming down, but instead tapering off, he was slow to rise up and hold you. Moving deliriously with him, you found a limp press of a kiss before burying yourself into his neck.

Loosely running his hands over you with a revelatory awe, he nuzzled against your skin to mumble, “You are my greatest mistake.”

-

Fluttering lashes brushed the stiff plastron you were dozing against. Cozy and satisfied, your cheek slid against the smooth surface to glimpse your partner. His eyes open, he stared up at the ceiling with an expression similar to how you felt. “You up?”

In a blink of registration, he struggled to look down at you. “Hey.”

“Thinking?” You asked anew.

He hummed an agreement and pet your back.

“Bout what?” Settling against his pectoral scutes, you let your eyes close.

“When I mess up, it’s no longer a failure.”

You made a curious sound as that didn’t make much sense to your sleep coddled mind.

“Before.” His hand stopped and spread flat. “A misstep would cause ruin. I couldn’t afford them. With any, with you.”

“We messed up a lot early on.”

“And look where that almost got me.”

“Us and almost, but not.”

“True, I'm not brooding.” He did one long languid stroke down your torso. “A consideration, late stage revelation.”

“You’re surprised?” 

You felt him nod. “This whole exercise has been one mistake after another, but none damaging.”

“Yeah, as far as mistakes go…” You drew a curve with a finger to his plastron.

He squeezed your ass cheeks and you whimpered against him.

“Sensitive…” You huffed and scooted up to bury your face more comfortably against his neck.

He kissed the top of your head. “Referring to you or me?”

“Sensitive?” You chuckled.

“At fault.” He clarified, threatening to grope you again.

You tried to squirm away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

He relented by moving his hand back to the small of your back.

“Both.”

“Shame. I was going to applaud how vile you were.”

You blew an unintentional raspberry and sat up to stare at him, incredulous. “Sure, I’m so evil.”

“It’s true.” He arched a knowing brow. “You’ve ruined me.”

“I’ve taken one thing from you and pied you in the face with help, how is that ruin?”

“You’ve taken a great blight and nearly erased the stain.”

“You did that.”

“You spurned me on.”

“You mentioned this before.”

“I believe it.”

“You’ve been wrong.”

“I’ll admit it when I realize.”

You pecked his cheek. “Can’t wait.”

-

“Intimidation is next.” Donnie told you first thing in the morning.

You were breathing in the steam of a hot drink. “Huh?”

“My gauntlet.”

“Oh yeah. I was ready to just let time run out. Only a couple days left.”

“I want to win.”

“You’ve already won.”

“I have.”

Smiling into your mug, you let both warmths fill you before you went to get ready. The usual routine, you kept waiting for him to appear as a tower of terror, but he didn’t approach. Seemingly only getting ready himself, you got a goodbye peck on your way out. Carrying the press to your cheek through your commute. You worked with little worry and made it through the trip home without complaint. With anything waiting for you behind the door, you prepared yourself with a deep breath as you opened it.

Donnie stood across the room in a readied pose.

You took your time taking your jacket off and setting your bag aside before addressing him fully.

Unperturbed by the wait, you spied the style of outfit on him that you hadn’t seen in over a year. Cool pieces that were street wear reminiscent of his villain costume, sleek black utility pants were cuffed off with sharp combat boots. The understated bottoms accentuated his show stopping top where a wrap jacket was buckled off on one side and its enormous hood bowed around his shoulders, ready to conceal him at a moment’s notice.

You sensed anticipation in the air.

“Arm of the couch.”

Looking where he directed, there were clothes there. A splash of black with some gold accenting, you slid a hand over the cotton and what felt some stiffness mixed in. “Not really scary.”

“Stand off.”

“You have to give me a little bit more.”

“Change. You’ll see.” He walked off into the bedroom.

Staring after him and feeling a bit like you walked into a cut scene unprepared, you stripped. For clothes that definitely weren’t yours, they were tailored to your exact measurement and felt the epitome of comfort. Black pants hugged your body just right, but had a flexibility that you could move freely in. Doing a testing stomp in your own shiny new pair of steel toed boots, you looked over your arms. With one bare and the other emerging from a ballooned sleeve that was attached with a ring to your middle finger, you were wearing what you could only think of as a corseted hoodie. The top had the usual loose nature with a hood, but it was cinched around your waist and was obviously missing one of its sleeves. It gave you free roving motion to your dominant hand and perfectly coordinated with reaching to your hip where a pouch was strapped to that leg. Patting the pocket found something with a grip inside.

The only piece left that you hadn’t put on was a golden yellow bandana. Similar to his, it was missing the eye holes, so you carried it along as you walked over to the partition between rooms. “Don, what do I do with the-?”

You heard a warp of metal and watched as his bo extended to full height.

“Mask, if you prefer anonymity.”

“Like a cowboy.” You mimed holding up the fabric over your mouth.

He gave a nod and readied his stance.

“You haven’t really trained me to fight…” You felt jumpy and ready to dig into that holster.

“What have I taught you?” He charged forward, clearly holding back.

Using the golden mask, you blocked his bo as he telegraphed his swing.

“Not bad. Deflect would have been better.”

Twisting the fabric and tossing one end over the other, you looped it around his staff and yanked it to the side.

It brought his face up to yours.

“Mano e mano! I get it now.” You grinned.

“Tell me where my gauntlet is.” His voice husked.

“Never!” You lowered your center of gravity and twisted your arms around the mask to spin the staff.

He let it get sent further away.

Stumbling a few feet away from him and further into the bedroom, you panicked as he turned for another strike. A flick of his gaze hit your hip and you dug for whatever weapon was there. Finding two objects inside, you unceremoniously got one into each hand and then threw your arms out in a readied way that you had seen Leo do. The flick extended something and you had to glance down to see you were holding two extendable batons. “Are these legal!?”

He dropped his act for a moment to give you a bitterly sardonic stare.

Puffing up in annoyance, you charged him and he blocked with ease.

Though you had no idea what you were doing, you could feel his expertise. Through each swing, he was also leading you in what to do next. Teaching on the fly, he emboldened you to push harder. It culminated in a dancing duel around the apartment where you exchanged blow after blow. Neither of you once getting physically struck, you knew he could disable you in a heartbeat. Instead, it was about the battle and the heat to it. Charged from exhilaration and exertion, you pushed him back until he flipped over the couch.

He landed on the toes of his good foot on the coffee table and balanced his staff perpendicular to his body on his other raised knee to appraise you with an overflowing expression.

Further boosted by his pride, you squared for a stronger stance and lifted your batons. “Give up?”

“Yield and tell me where it is.” He responded coolly.

“Eh.” You gave a little shrug. “Don’t wanna.”

“Suit yourself.” With only the slightest dip, he launched, almost brushing the ceiling and you had to squander a few steps back. Losing your footing, he landed a force around you with his bo. The staff pressed across your front and, in a twirl that blurred your vision, he shoved upward. It manipulated the batons clean out of your hands and pinned your wrists above your head in one fluid movement. “Mercy?” He teased hot breath along your jawline.

Able to feel the staff with your fingers, you feigned your most pitiful expression which he ate up. Something you’d known from groping it before, it took only a quick slide for you to find the telescoping mechanism. His staff collapsed above you and you kneed into his stomach. Holding back since there was no air to press out and its firm surface would only damage you, you instead used it as a pressure point to throw your weight into him. Having lost his hand hold, it was just enough to throw him off and you both fell back onto the floor.

He scrambled for leverage and you fought to grab his hands. A silly squabble to an outsider, you caught a wrist of one hand and a single digit of his other to force them to his throat since you couldn’t manage over his head.

Leaning over him and panting, you smiled. “How about you beg?”

His grin grew wicked and you couldn’t steel yourself in time as his knees kicked up and his thighs slammed into your ass. It popped you forward until you were almost straddling his face and broke your grip. Swift, his arms swept downward to lock onto your thighs, but you dug your knees into the sides of his shell. Throwing all your weight to one side, he only caught one hip before you crushed said arm to the ground as you rolled. Momentum put him momentarily on top before it continued and you were the victor once again.

Kicking a foot out, you caught a sprawled limb under your boot and crossed his body to exert the rest of your force on his other arm. “Well!?”

He gave a breathy laugh. “Well done, where’d you learn that?”

“I didn’t. Full luck.” You giggled at him.

“I want you.” He purred.

A little shudder wiggled your hips. “Don’t cheat like that…!”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“A trick.” You pursed your lips.

“Tempting, but not that.” He whispered softly as himself and then projected his voice to show he was back in character. “Why fight when we could work together?”

“I betrayed you, stole from you, what’s to say you won’t do the same to me?” You put on your best glower. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“You also can’t end me like this.”

Shifting your boot where it was digging into his arm, you looked over to find he was right. He could probably break this entrapment now, but under the guise of the battle all you could do was continue to pin him. “Give me your staff as collateral.”

“It’s behind you.”

Staring him down for a long moment, you jumped away and scrambled to get it.

He was slow to sit up and show you his hands.

You extended his staff and kicked your lost batons away where they slid somewhere into the bedroom.

“To an exceedingly beneficial partnership.” He grinned.

“I’ll listen and nothing more.” You waited for the turn coat and got to your feet.

His hands stayed where you could see them. “A change of scenery?”

You adjusted your posture for a question.

The far finger on one of his hands came to his thumb. 

You held his staff ready to whack him.

He turned his hand over and snapped.

The lights went out.

Backing up where it was suddenly pitch black, you heard several pieces of furniture move until the lights came back on to a far lesser degree. It took a few adjusting blinks, but you found the sofa and coffee table had been pushed flush to the wall with the door. In its place sat a lovely round table, set ready for a romantic dinner. Around the room were now candles, all lit for a flickering honey amber glow.

“Wha-?” The bo loosened in your grip.

“I take my partnerships quite seriously.” Donnie stood ready in the kitchen.

“You…” At a loss, you walked over to the table. “You… uh… could have… poisoned it?”

“How does that benefit me?” He gestured for you to sit. “It would not reveal the information I seek.”

You collapsed the staff and sat down in the chair across from him. “From fighting to wine and dining?”

“I play to my advantage.”

“No scruples.” You looked over your place setting and the cutely folded napkin in the center of your plate.

“Some may say.” He turned and you noticed a large strange contraption on the counter. It just barely fit under the upper cabinets and had the look of a mini fridge. Grabbing a metal handle, it had an unlatching mechanism and it clicked to open. A puff of steamy air poured out and he reached in to remove two plates. A gourmet looking meal, he walked them over and exuded power.

You felt like you had already lost as you pulled your napkin into your lap.

He set your plate down without clinking the china and passed you a coy look.

You returned it with an unsure one and he simply smiled as he placed his own plate down. Smoothly taking his seat and flicking his napkin for placement over his legs, he scooped up a knife and fork to address you. “I see talent in you.”

“Should I be flattered?” Your mouth watered as the smell wafted up.

 “Up to you. I would be.”

“Such an ego.” You cut into a steak medallion and marveled how your knife slid through it like butter.

“When one can back it up?” He took his first bite and watched you while he chewed.

“What do I get out of it?” You smeared into a sauce and when you put it in your lips you had to break character to swoon.

He did the same to savor your reaction.

Clearing your throat, a little embarrassed, you tried the sides next. “Well?”

“Besides my tutelage?”

“Yes.” Turning your head from the bite, a happy little moan leaked from you.

You heard a little rhythmic thump and he was forced to readjust his posture.

Your heart somersaulted.

You could see a faint dusting to his cheeks. “You’d have my everything to command. My empire shared.”

“All for some gauntlet?”

“All for being the first to deceive me.”

There was something about his face.

That phrase was both in character and not.

The weight of truth shifting the scales, you had to openly gape.

That couldn’t be possible, could it?

No, he had scars to prove otherwise.

“Donnie-”

“Flukes.”

He read your mind and felt yourself sharply inhale.

“Not praying on naivety, jumping on a moment of weakness, or making a move while I was already down.”

You had to rest your fork and knife on the edge of your plate.

“You named your intent and executed. I am at your mercy. You are the first and only.”

Vision shifting, you returned to your plate and took a few bites in rapid succession to stave off your closing throat.

Across from you, you could feel his smile as he continued to dine the same.

You made it about halfway through before you went for a drink to find there wasn’t one.

He scrambled up and into the kitchen where he quickly returned with two full glasses.

Your smile felt like it took up your whole face.

You loved him.

Taking in the space along with a sip, you returned to him with the intention of giving your answer.

“I must have you.” He interjected before you could.

“You’ll over do it.”

“Impossible.” He dabbed his mouth before rounding the table.

He knelt in front of you and your entire body constricted.

He’d already said he wouldn’t confess his love under this guise so you hoped that extended to a proposal.

“What are you doing?” You held onto the pieces of your voice.

“There will always be more.” He held out his hand and you slipped yours into it. “My affections for you have no limit. They will continue to grow as long as you give them even the slightest attention. I’m bewitched and at your mercy.”

“which you didn’t call it earlier.” You almost felt bad interrupting his speech.

His grin said he didn’t mind. “Show my devotion under duress? When I can present of my own volition?” He brought your hand forward for a chaste kiss.

You melted. “You’re showing me your whole heart. Don’t you want to leave something to the imagination?”

“No. I only want you.”

“You’ve missed something.”

He dropped his sweet nothings to stare with genuine surprise. “What?”

“You already have me.”

He surged forward and caught you in a kiss. Draping your arms over his shoulders, you stoked the flames for a more tender press and he melted against you. Stealing as many as some unknown appropriateness allowed, he eventually retreated reluctantly. Parting with an extra peck to your knuckles, he held your hand as he crossed the table to return to his seat.

“I’ll need that to finish this amazing meal.”

“Sweet sorrow.” He mused, letting go.

You sent your lingering blush to your plate and took a few more bites.

“I may have jumped the gun.” He had a normal candor to his voice and you assumed the role play was over.

“Yeah?”

“I meant to do that with dessert.” He seemed a little irritated and bit his fork a little too hard.

“What else did you make?”

“Soufflé.”

“Shut up.”

“One vanilla, one chocolate.”

“Did they both turn out?”

“Hadn’t fallen last I checked.”

“I’ve never had a fresh one!”

“I hope to do it justice.”

Grinning, you hurried to finish your meal and he cleaned his plate. He then cleared the dishes for you and refreshed you with a glass of water which you sipped as he went to get the next course. “What is that thing?”

“This?” He set the plates down and gestured to the box. “A warmer to maintain the food.”

“The plates weren’t hot.”

“Smart technology.”

“Are the soufflés in there?”

“Yes, I have concerns about the scent transfer.” He readied for the hot air as he opened the door. “Hm.”

“How is it?”

“Haven’t fallen, but the smell…”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

He whisked two large ramekins out and your eyes shot wide in excitement at the fluffy overflowing desserts.

Getting up on sheer instinct, you walked over to him and he set them down on the counter for you to inspect. “If I poke it will it collapse?”

“Best to do with a spoon.”

“Fine, fine.” You feigned throwing your hands up and headed back to the table. “Oh, yeah!”

He hummed a questioning response as he approached.

“You won, let me get your gauntlet.” You passed the table heading toward the door.

“The dessert…” He sounded sullen as you left him.

“What about it?” You grabbed the gauntlet off the astronaut and turned.

His limbs sank and you watched the soufflés tip in his grasp.

“Ah, Donnie!”

They hit the floor before you could reach him.

“What happened? Why?!”

“Do that again.”

“What?” You surveyed the damage, steering clear of stepping in the fallen dish.

“Again.”

Unaccustomed to that bitter heat, you shrank a little into yourself.

He didn’t relent so you returned to the astronaut and hovered.

“Place it.”

You set it down as it was, nerves shaking your fingers.

He stared hard at you until you had to break eye contact.

“Pick it up.”

You did so and were slow to walk it over with your eyes glued to the ground.

“This whole time…” He sounded a step away from rage.

Feeling worse than the dessert looked, you held out the gauntlet.

You felt the weight of it leave your hand.

It brought anxious words to your lips. “I-I never thought I was outsmarting you. I just thought… you hide things in plain sight. It’s a trope or something. I wasn’t trying to humiliate you. I didn’t think it was clever. I’m sor-”

Something brushed your arm.

Having not seen it, you looked up to find him standing beside you. He wasn't facing you and was instead staring down at the table with an unreadable expression. Feeling hopeless, you watched as he reached out and caught the table cloth. Wincing in preparation, he gathered up each edge slowly and methodically. Everything on the table tipped and fell including your water which splashed before he tied the whole thing up into a giant bundle.

“Donnie, please-!”

Grabbing the knot, he tossed the entire sack into the kitchen where the dishes shattered inside.

“Donatello!”

He addressed you and you froze under the scalding heat pouring off of him.

Knees feeling weak, he held out his hand and on pure instinct you slotted yours into it. With the faintest pull, he led you the step to the table where you got the sense he wanted you to sit. Turning within his grasp to do so, you hopped up at nearly the same time he dropped to his knees. His name on your lips again, you almost spoke it when his fingers slid behind your ankle as if you were a porcelain doll. Something infinitely precious, he brought your left foot up and set your boot on his thigh. He then began the exceedingly careful action of unlacing your boots and you could only watch him with growing interest.

With one final tug, he pulled the lace free and only then worked to remove your boot. A slow rock to release it from your foot, he was just as careful in setting the shoe aside. Hooking the top of your sock with an attentive digit, he rolled the fabric down until your foot was free.

Your nerves flared as he cradled your arch.

You hadn’t had a chance to shower after the whole work day or from the following workout. “D-Don, wait!”

Ignoring you, his face lowered and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your foot.

Sparks shot off at the delicate nature and he lifted only a few centimeters before placing another.

Your thighs pressed together and he continued his trek up until your pant leg stopped him. He then left you only to repeat the same process with your other foot. By the time he reached your hem a second time, you were love struck. Painting your utter being, you sent the adoration down to him where you saw it returned as he closed in. Coming up like you willed him to, he stopped short and a complaint died on your lips.

Fingers barely brushing your hips, he found your waistband and traced it toward the center. Not fully touching as if you’d shatter with the slightest pressure, he got the button undone and the sound of the zipper going down unraveled your mind. Hips trying to meet his hands, he left your fly down and moved to tuck his digits into your hem. Your arch helped and he used the space to shimmy the fabric down.

Slow and deliberate, he took your underwear down with the pair as he peeled the bottoms from you. Twitching with each inadvertent graze, it was the absence of lust that was your undoing. Pants pooling around your ankles, he removed the fabric one leg at a time before he neatly folded the clothes. Setting them aside as if they were precious garments, he gazed up at your legs as if he had never seen you uncovered before.

A creature unlike any other, his hands hovered, afraid to sully your perfection. Squirming to try to meet him, he avoided you with a near clinical nature until he ditched his research to feel you anew. Starting right where he’d left off on your right foot, he explored with his lips and snout as he tasted every inch of your flesh. Rounding the entirety of your calf before he would move upward, you were panting his name by the time he hit your knees. Nuzzling at the sound was the only indication he was aware of you. He worked your round thigh and avoided the area between your legs.

Shuddering as he mouthed up to the joint of your hip, he descended again and you almost wished you were a mermaid. Something with a singular lower body, you wanted him to continue forward instead of having to reset. A beached siren, you would sing him a sweet melody if only he would abandon his ship and offer himself up to you.

Moving through the same steps, this time when he reached your other hip socket, his hand extended in a testing brush of your cotton top. Tracing the gold boning in your corset, he skipped over your chest for drawstrings. Toying with the aglet, he removed himself from you and appeared to hover in your face. Sensing him like one would a hummingbird and fearing he’d disappear, you reached out.

He caught your hand and you waited with a weak whine in case he’d push it away, he instead pulled it close. Curling your digits to cup his cheek, he leaned his weight there while staring love into your eyes. Lips parting for a shaky breath, he gave a little nod before he turned to nose and kiss your palm. Needing more, but unable to extrapolate, you watched him put your hand back where you had been gripping the table’s edge for dear life.

He shifted focus with closed eyes as he reached behind you to undo the corset’s ties. The fabric soon loosened and he followed the hem around to the side. Lifting your arms, ready for him, he pulled up with the same rolling move to bunch the fabric as much as it would allow. Boning prevented much, but he got to your armpits before he adjusted his grip to flip the top off of you.

Feeling a sweep of relief that air-cooled skin granted, he was slow at receding as if it brought your being into focus. Wanting to scream that you were already his possession, his arms disappeared around your back again and you readied yourself for your bra to be removed. A silent pop, the fabric let go of its hold on you and he traced up feathered touches over your shoulder straps. Sliding them off one at a time, by the time the band unseated from below your breasts, you were gnawing on your now raw lip.

Thumbing over your chin to stop you, a mewl leaked out and his eyes watered at the sound. Wanting to soothe him or do anything other than hang on, you couldn’t wrench your fingers free as he knelt once again. Following up his predetermined path, he planted rows of kisses across your stomach. Yielding an immediate crop, you were on your back of your own volition and he only continued to sow.

Reverent to a fault, he filled the expanse of your torso without shifting to erogenous duty. Your breasts were simply more skin for him to trace. Etching your soul to paper for use in great academic discovery, he diverted course as he hit your collar and shifted to your left shoulder. Arm detaching from you for his own use, he curled his fingers under your wrist to lift further as he worked his way down. Feeling it in your very veins, you mourned what you did not know you needed. Something beyond you and of a higher existence, you could only tell for certain that it wasn’t sexual.

Infinitely more, the signals crossed in a way you couldn’t repair. Not made for his actions, you could only tell that what was between your legs felt inappropriate. Your leaking desire made a mockery of his work and you despised that it wasn’t within your power to stop. Wanting to be a pious vessel for him, your being quaked as he seared off each of your fingertips with a kiss.

Knowing that meant one more round, your head lolled as he returned to your chest. Making a V, he trended the other direction across your right shoulder and, in a swerve, your head bumped his. It knocked him out of his stupor where he briskly rubbed his cheek to yours. An animal-like contact, you returned with as much as you could before he deemed the interaction satisfactory and continued his work.

A puppet without strings, he sought your joints as he kissed across your other arm. Once carved and now painted, you moved for him. A master of none, he was reveled in you though he’d been the one to drain you of yourself. He animated through his lips and you only wanted for him to use you more. Feeling useless without him, he capped off the ends of your digits and appeared again, that roving elusive bird.

You thought you might fall over and he must have noticed because he grabbed your shoulders. Mentally thanking him, your head tipped forward and you felt him push. Odd as he had been more interested in operating around you, you resisted the move until you realized how you were being piloted. It was a turn and you felt doused in the fact that he hadn’t been able to reach your back.

“I can’t…” Your whine hit your ears.

You couldn’t move.

You’d plummet over the edge.

You’d leave this world.

You needed his anchor.

“You can.” He spoke warm beside your head.

Feeling a deep throb within your body, you couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken.

His voice now a foreign one, you shook your head and he let it fall to his shoulder.

“You can.” He repeated with a nuzzle.

A strung out noise pulled from you, you heeded his direction and he got you turned around. Edging you to curl forward and expose your spine to him, you imagined he would flay off chunks of your meat like a fish. Carving skills learned from years of training, he’d yield perfect filets and sear them off with only salt for flavor.

His lips hitting the base of your neck, you unintentionally cried out for the blade. None came and instead he kissed the worries away with each baked press. A toasted stone, it helped ground you and, as he filled out the expanse of you, some of your sanity returned. Tickling toward the center of your spine and downward, it caused muscle groups you’d long forgotten to contract. A writhing mess by the time he inched around your hips, he had to hold you down because you kept trying to rise off the table.

When he left you for a momentary reprieve, it felt like a breath. The first after near suffocation, it was a deep respite of illumination. Drinking in enlightenment, the rustling of fabric signified the change of being. Reality was being swapped and you were an autonomous being. As much of a fact that was, you also couldn't help your tether to Donnie. Newly born, his forging was of his responsibility. 

With a show of hands, he returned, standing, and picked up at your hairline. Moving up to your crown, you rolled your neck back to give him access as he worked his fingers into where his lips could not. Soon staring at the ceiling with some sort of sight, something moist barely tapped the top edge of one of your butt cheeks and your eyes widened as you placed it as his cock.

 He was not so innocent.

You were the same.

Keenly alive, you broke free from the last of your bindings and left him. He watched on, a painting of a mortal who’d tasted ambrosia and you the god doomed to fall. Your back turned to him, you got on legs that you knew would hold you. It was your body to command and the you who only moments ago thought otherwise felt like some curse you'd broken free from. 

An immortal unfairly imprisoned, his existence shifted as you stood nude and powerful. He was no master and had instead come to possess you momentarily. He was an ear to coax and despite your allure, he'd been the one to free you of his own violation. Shifting your weight from hip to hip, your head lifted high as you finally turned to him.

Whatever expression you wore destroyed what was left of him.

Caught having touched what no mortal should, a pathetic chirp exited his body and you approached.

Falling like a tower, he was forced to kneel as you towered over him.

Save for his eyes glued to yours, his being screamed of his lowly station.

A smile picking up your lips, he chirped again, even more pitiful, as you finished your approach. Where he looked up at the object of his worship, you shifted your weight to your right foot. Lifting the left that he started all this with, you touched the tip of your big toe to his pectoral scutes. Spurned by your being, he crumpled backward as you exerted pressure.

Placing the full force of your foot to ensure he’d stay down, he squeaked his compliance and you removed the appendage to regard the whole of him. Laying on his carapace, he spread with full submission and his cock swayed to flag you down. Regarding the organ with the affection that one might give an old childhood toy, you traced the line of his plastron to his face. Gaze piteous for his transgressions, you walked the side of him before moving to place a foot on either side of his head.

It gave him an unencumbered view of your sex and you watched him regard what was above him like a rare bloom. One only fated to have its petals spread once a century, you adjusted your stance a final time before dropping down. Knowing this to be his only chance, he caught your thighs as you sat on his face.

Tipping the bowl back to drink your everything in, your knees hit the floor and you cried out as his tongue pressed into you. Scorching heat of your defiling fall, you were sent further forward. You imagined he gave up breathing in exchange for this moment and you were forced to slap a hand to the floor to keep from doing an outright somersault. Eating you out like his very life depended on it, your other hand buried into his mask, pulling on the fabric and you shoved down the top of his head to make sure he served your ethereal being as he should. 

Nails bit your thighs as his snout nudged your clit. His tongue still buried, the appendage felt endless as he siphoned all he could. Your life force tied directly to his, your orgasm felt like it was coaxed by fate. Something needing to culminate to prove that both of you still existed in your current forms, the winding felt like a woven cloth. Made by the fates, the spool rotating for the world’s loom, you shouted.

His only signal, you ground down into him, snuffed out the last of his breath. Cumming only for your pleasure, you allowed your body to spasm and your voice carried the necessary tune. The design of which was orchestrated by him and you felt him still as he drank in the sound along with the last of your juices. Feeling weak and cut off from the god’s might, you slumped, arms no longer made to bear a load of mortality.

You were rising from your fall and it made no sense until you felt him readjust his hold. Dizzy and drunk off your own supply of chemicals, you slacked above him. Moving further, you were deposited onto the flat of his stomach and when his plastron pressed to your sex, you gave an overtaxed jolt. He chirped sweet nothings and aided in your come down until you were again clay for him to mold.

Formless, he searched for your shape, afraid to touch in case the wrong form be built. Reverted to your essential dogma, you needed to help your mate. Your hands rose on this instinct and you watched them as they moved to grab your own breasts. Rolling the fat sacks in your hands, they took what had to be the right shape so you left them. Trending downward, you squeezed bits of yourself, pinching skin and molding what had yet to find its place. Leading down your body and to the little pool you created over his stomach, a touch down into your sex cemented the last of you.

Ready to be fired, he was brimstone and his kiln sat at attention behind you. Lifting on clay limbs, they held your form up long enough to deliver it to the fires. There you dropped and felt yourself split in two as his cock plunged into your body. A snarl ripped from your partner and you felt weak as his Hephaestusian powers awoke. The volcano itself, he sought to overwhelm you. It was all too much and the words you formed made little sense. The foreign tongue couldn't reach you and you were trapped in the lava flow. 

He hadn’t moved. 

You had only been tossed in for your first fire in an attempt to set, bone dry.

Now paled and ready for the final cook, your hands appeared in your vision. Curious spread digits, they reached out until they found the ridge of his pectoral scutes. As soon you made contact, his own flew up to catch your wrists as if you'd mistakenly committed some great taboo. Afraid of what that might be, his face contorted as your body moved with his. His distress troubled you and you meant to soothe him. Reminding you of your connection, you clenched his cock and the twine paining him snapped.

A vibration revved so intense you saw the minor quiver of your fingers. Lifting one hand up to observe the phenomena, it disappeared up close and you frowned. Looking down to see the other hand still shaking, your brows scrunched as you tried to make sense of where the source was. Far stronger than your tech gauntlet, it seemed to stem from where you touched Donnie. Having seen him just injured, you felt like a bother for putting that jittery sensation onto him.

You'd have to let go to save him.

He still had your wrists cuffed so when you tried to retreat, he wouldn’t let you.

“Let go…” You protested.

He shook his head.

“What?” Your lips felt lame.

He pulled hard on your hands.

It tugged your digits up until your fingertips curled over the edge of his plastron. Skimming the skin above, you felt his chest oscillating at a higher frequency.

The vibration was coming from him.

Now searching for the exact source, you encircled his neck to find it there along with a guttural purr echoing from his throat. “I don’t understand…?”

“Churr.” He could barely get the word out as the sound swallowed up his voice.

“Churr.” You repeated the incantation and he gave a smile as the power turned up.

Hands now another connection point, this churr shook your very bone structure. The circuit completed, you again clamped down on his cock. He squeaked through the churr and you felt yourself descend. Not letting you traverse the depths alone, he encircled you as you finally began to ride him. A drag of your hips churned the water into a whirlpool that threatened to swallow you whole. Your partner, a devolution of chirps and churrs, disturbed the fluidity and kept you afloat until he forced you upright.

Folding overtop you, his knees kicked up as your backrest and you were buried into his chest. Feeling whole, your limbs wrapped around him as you rocked together. A pump to keep the water filling your vessel from sinking the ship, the back and forth exchange staved off the storm. Calypso christening your union, you felt like crying and the thought manifested tiny water droplets. Confused as your face wasn’t wet, you searched for the new leak and found it on Donnie's cheeks.

Brushing furiously to shoo the invaders away, you saw love as the source of the well. Forever bound, the overflow sought your ducts until you  dripped with little commiserations. Closer than ever, he brought your foreheads together for further commingling. His churrs echoed in your ears and quieted all useless noise. It slowed time until neither of you rocked and resorted to the smallest grind.

Depths plugged satisfactorily, the micromovements were only meant to maintain the connection. Growing weaker by the second because you had all you needed, you kissed and it felt like something new. Whether it was the roleplay or his new ability, your lip lock enhanced and he waxed poetic; there was no upper limit to his love. Soaring on the thought, it was amongst a thousand shallow thrusts that you came.

Having had no warning of your orgasm, when it struck, you drowned in the many tears. Something silent beyond guppy gasps, your wrenching signaled his own. Mind lost to the white noise of his churr, your wringing forced him to join you. His breath, his vibrations, and his cum brought true silence as your existence had been fully excavated. With Donnie’s locked knees as the only thing keeping either of you upright, you slacked against one another. Toasty, you allowed yourself to sleep, just like that.

- 

Waking was brought about by a jostle to your body. Wanting to doze for many more hours, you frustratingly found the room much darker than you’d left it. Many of the candles had burnt out while a few hung on, flickering with their last breath. Your head rolled to find a clock. You could almost see the one in the kitchen and, though it was upside down, you thought it read sometime after midnight based on the shape of the digits.

It meant you’d been like this for hours and it was Donnie who struggled to rise. Breaking the calcified seal of your hips brought an ache that cemented the time frame and you both groaned loudly to free yourselves. Uncoordinated and a mess, you fell away from one another. Weak and not wanting to lie on the floor a second more, you were the first to get on your hands and knees where his spent leaked down your legs.

Feeling like a filthy animal, you dropped your ass down and let his cum drip to the floor as you forced your bearings. They didn't come readily and you had to tap reserves. Summing all you could, you noticed a ramekin laying on its side. Reaching for it, its cool touch helped with your bearings and you turned it to find some kind of gooey mixture inside. There were spoons once, a far thought reminded you, but their absence meant you had to forage. With half open lids, you caught a nearby chair to get yourself upright.

Toting your prize along with your stumbling and trembling form, you made it to the kitchen and found blessed rest against a counter. Another chill that you despised for its wakefulness, you gathered enough strength to register you were close to the silverware drawer. Wondering about the mystery mixture, you took an embarrassing amount of time to draw a single spoon from the rest. Not to be deterred by one struggle, you rushed as soon as you had a utensil and plunged it into the dish. Getting a solid scoop of white fluff, you brought it to your lips for a burst of sweetness.

“Can… I have… one?” A raspy voice sounded beside you.

Looking with surprise, you found Donnie the source and wondered what had happened to have ruined his throat in such a way.

Unable to place it, you delved out another scoop and held it up to him.

He had to hold himself with one hand to the counter, but he leaned toward enough to take the bite and relished it without releasing the spoon from his teeth.

“That’s my soufflé.” Your own voice wasn't near as destroyed, but sounded thin upon listening. 

Frowning around your utensil, he allowed you to pull it out only to ask something. “You… don’t… want… some of… this…one?” He shook another ramekin.

“Chocolate.” You remembered as pieces started to assemble.

He nodded and scooped a spoon for himself out from the drawer that had been left open. Trying his gathered treat first as you had, he made a bitter face. “Cold…”

“So’s this one.” You noted, leaning into him to await your bite.

He took a while getting a good amount onto his spoon before offering it to you.

Like him, you held it with your teeth before the flavor made you release. “It’s good.”

He got out a repulsed grunt before he was struck with what looked like a migraine.

“You okay?”

“That’s… your first…” He grouched.

A laugh shined brightly through the dark before you realized it was coming from you.

He returned it with a smoker’s enthusiasm and you got your strength up by feeding one soufflés. It got you both ambling, unwashed, toward bed. In the morning you knew you would hate the decision, but until then, the mattress felt incredible. Amongst soft sheets that only wanted to soothe achy bodies, you snuggled in and found Donnie hadn’t been as close behind you as you thought. Searching for him reluctantly, you watched him trail up with something in his hands. Not huge, but an odd shape, he set it down with enough force that you couldn't help but get a good look at it.

He took his miniaturized tech gauntlet and placed it, like a visor, on the astronaut's helmet.

The toy was undoubtedly cursed, but the little guy had shown a higher aptitude for this sort of guard duty. Ruminating on his line of work, you let sleep take you as your partner collapsed by your side.

NEXT

You know my many merry holidays and thanks go out equally to my darling betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[spicysix]

now i don't hate California after all

“They arrived at the beginning of fall, and yet California was sunny, hot, and colorful. Jonathan saw it all gray. He hated the sun, the heat, the dryness. Hated how he was always sweating, bothered about the weather, about the place, about the people. Everyone was so nice, and cheerful, and happy. He hated it. He was miserable. Argyle was nice and cheerful and happy. He was sunny and warm and colorful. Jonathan hated him at first.”

rating: T

warnings/tags: it's a Jargyle fic, friends - there's weed. jonathan's POV, bisexual king johnny-boy byers, black cat VS golden retriever energy. he's just a lil grumpy guy :)

word count: 4k

author's note: HAPPY JARGYLE JURSDAY! and happy pride! 💛🏳️‍🌈 this is the first of a few fics i have planned to write and post this month, all with queer relationships. absolutely random note: I based Lenora Hills off of Barstow-California, based losely on the location shown on Murray's computer and the overview of the town. fic based on a song of the same name by my queen of queens, Carly Rae Jepsen. hope y'all like this, and hope i made justice by my dearly beloved stoners! 💛

↳ ao3

Jonathan hated it at first.

Of course he hated it. How could he not? It was his whole world changed from night to day. Seventeen years of his life packed in a single morning into a few boxes into a truck across the whole country. Away from the few friends he had, away from the girlfriend he loved, away from all of the only things he ever really knew.

Jonathan feared it at first.

Of course he feared it. How could he not? His mother was alone, no husband, no boyfriend, no friends. His sister was alone, no boyfriend, no friends, no father. His brother was alone. He was alone. All they had was each other. What if it wasn’t enough? What if they were alone forever, thousands of miles away, and each others’ companies didn’t suffice?

But he also understood. How could he not? It was safer. A fresh new start, away from the dangers that haunted them, the ones that found them and the ones still lurking. Far away enough, hidden enough that they wouldn’t be found again. His mom would figure it out, Joyce always did. They could adapt, they could find new friends, they could still call and send letters to the old ones. They could go back for spring break, or for summer, or the ones left behind could come visit. It could work.

Doesn’t mean Jonathan liked it. Jonathan hated it, actually.

They arrived at the beginning of fall, and yet California was sunny, hot, and colorful.

Jonathan saw it all gray.

He hated the sun, the heat, the dryness. Hated how he was always sweating, bothered about the weather, about the place, about the people. Everyone was so nice, and cheerful, and happy. He hated it. He was miserable.

Argyle was nice and cheerful and happy. He was sunny and warm and colorful.

Jonathan hated him at first.

Saw that guy, first day of school, wearing a ridiculous shirt with more colors than the human eye can capture. The baggiest shorts Jonathan had ever seen, and they had a different psychedelic print on each leg. Fucking rainbow socks with hideous square-print Vans. He attracted all the attention around and yet, somehow, people didn’t seem to care about him one bit.

He was everywhere, too. Not just at Jonathan’s Math, Science, English and History classes, but at his woodworking elective as well. He shopped at the same grocery store that sold the snacks El loved, at the same farmers’ market Joyce got the best fruits, at the same craft store with Will’s favorite items, he worked at the best pizza place in town. Jonathan couldn’t escape him if he tried.

It took them a while to share their first words. Woodwork elective, Argyle needed someone to help him with a big project he had — it didn’t work, at the end, and he cut the huge wood plank into smaller pieces and made smaller things. For some reason, he saw Jonathan with a scowl on his face, pure disdain of how colorful and cheerful Argyle was, and decided to ask for his help.

Jonathan might’ve hated the guy, but he was raised well and polite. There was no actual reason for him to hate the guy too, so he helped. And hoped to never have to talk to Argyle again after that.

Of course that didn’t go as he hoped.

Argyle, who was once just a dude in the background of every scenario Jonathan walked into, was now purposefully centering himself in front of Jonathan’s lenses (his metaphorical lenses, because his actual cameras were kept in his bedroom. He couldn’t find it in himself the desire to take pictures of Lenora, its dry hot deserts and cheerful colorful people). Argyle talked to him, constantly, sat by Jonathan’s side at every Math, Science, English and History class, chose Jonathan as his woodworking partner from then on. Was Jonathan’s shopping buddy at the grocery, called out to Jonathan at the farmers’ market, gave Jonathan tips on what to buy for Will, delivered the Byers’ pizzas personally every time they ordered.

As they reached the end of the year, the weather cooled down a little — nothing compared to what they had back home in Hawkins, of course. But it was easier for Jonathan. It rained a little too, which helped with the dryness. People went for neutral tones and colors, and the sun didn’t bother his skin as much.

Argyle was still just as colorful, warm and sunny. Jonathan hated him. No one else seemed to notice him.

Will and El still didn’t seemed to have find friends too, which didn’t help with Jonathan’s anxiety and hatred. He was worried all of the time. About himself, about his siblings. His mom was doing fine at least, it’s been a while since Jonathan had to worry about her, thankfully.

“My man, you gotta chill a little,” Argyle said one day as they were leaving their woodwork elective, somehow noticing Jonathan’s tension.

Jonathan didn’t talk a lot, Argyle did most of the talking. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Have you ever tried smoking?” he asked.

“How would nicotine help besides getting me an addiction?” Jonathan countered.

Argyle clicked his tongue, “Not regular smokes, man. Nature’s goodies,”

“The devil’s lettuce?” Jonathan asked, and Argyle cackled loudly. Jonathan had never seen him laugh so hard. It wasn’t even that funny. Jonathan smiled just a little at the sound anyway.

“That’s right, man! Have you?” Jonathan only shook his head. “You wanna try? I bet it’ll do you some good, you look so pent up all the time, man.”

Jonathan didn’t know how Argyle knew that. Not like he had seen Jonathan in any other state if not pent up to know the difference. Jonathan’s small, rare joyful moments always happened at home. When Will was excited about something at school, when El was excited about a letter from Mike, when his mom was excited about a sell. When he was excited about a letter from Nancy. Those have been scarce.

Jonathan shrugged as an answer to Argyle’s offer.

“Well, if you ever feel like it, I can set you up.” Jonathan liked that Argyle didn’t pressured him.

They parted ways at the parking lot. Argyle was always driving the Surfer Boy pizza van. Jonathan’s car was dying a slow agonizing death, and he had been fearing the day the car would stop working.

That day had arrived.

Jonathan tried to ignite the car while waiting for his siblings to show up from wherever they were. But it wasn’t working, the car wasn’t starting and Jonathan hit his head on the steering wheel a few times with all that pent up anger inside him.

“Jonathan, you’re gonna get a hole on your forehead,” Will spoke as he knocked at Jonathan’s window.

“The car won’t start,” Jonathan complained, leaving the vehicle and checking his wristwatch. “Mom might be able to come pick us in between calls, maybe. This piece of shit.” He turned around and kicked the front tire. El giggled behind Will, Jonathan didn’t think it was funny.

“Hey man, I can get you and the younglings back home. I know where you live,” Argyle showed up from somewhere, Jonathan hadn’t noticed he was still in the parking lot.

“You know that sounds creepy, right?” Will asked. “Who the hell are you?”

Jonathan almost laughed, “He’s the pizza delivery guy, and he’s also in my year. Argyle, these are Will and Jane, my younger siblings.”

“You don’t look like a surfer boy,” El commented, noticing Argyle’s Surfer Boy visor. He’d probably head to work after school.

“And I am not one, little friend. Couldn’t hold myself standing up on a board, not even for a miracle. Maybe sitting down, on a pool, not on the ocean with the waves. But then it wouldn’t be surfing, now, would it?” Argyle said, that cheerful happy huge smile of his. Jonathan huffed, El seemed amused by the answer. “Shall we?” he asked, already heading for the pizza van.

“I should get the car towed first. I’ll call from the public phone over there,” Jonathan said and did as he said.

Argyle entertained Will and El as Jonathan called and waited for the towing, and as he talked to the towing guy when he arrived. He asked for the car to be taken to his house instead of the garage, because Jonathan didn’t have the money to pay for a fix. He’d have to save up, or try and do the fixing himself.

 He sat at the front with Argyle in the Surfer Boy’s van, Will and El went in the back and asked Argyle all of the possible questions to ask someone who works at a pizza place. He didn’t seem to mind answering them all. They also asked a lot about his hair, and Argyle told El he’d give her tips to grow her hair long and pretty like his. She looked radiant at the promise.

Jonathan kept it to himself all of the way back, but all of the rambling from his siblings and his colleague didn’t annoy him. They seemed to like Argyle, and that made the dude ease his way a little further into Jonathan’s own heart. That’s how it worked, isn’t it? The way into Jonathan’s heart was always going through his family first.

When Argyle stopped in front of the Byers’ house, Jonathan’s old Ford was already there, and he paid the towing people as Will and El entered the house.

“I can come pick you guys up tomorrow if you want,” Argyle offered when Jonathan went back to the passenger window to thank him for the ride.

“I don’t wanna bother,” he said.

“Nah, man, don’t worry, it’s all good. I’ll be here tomorrow then. See ya, dude,” he said and just took off.

Jonathan stayed there a little while longer, staring at the street where the van had rode by, confusion all over his face. That guy was the weirdest guy he had ever met. But he wasn’t so bad after all.

And then began their new routine. Argyle would always pick them up — most days on the brink of being late — and they would have all their classes together, and Argyle would drop them off after school. He kept easing his way in, and at some point Jonathan started easing his way out of the cave he had dug for himself, and Argyle wasn’t the one talking all of the time anymore. He didn’t seem to mind listening.

Jonathan talked about Nancy, and how she wasn’t sending letters that much anymore. Their plans to go to college together, and how Jonathan wasn’t feeling it as of lately.

Jonathan talked about his dad, and how he was an asshole.

Jonathan talked about his mom, and how she was working all the time, and how he had to be a responsible figure for his siblings.

“They’re twins, are they?” Argyle asked once.

“No, Jane’s my… well, sort of half sister. Her dad was a close family friend, and my mom adopted her when he passed, it’s… a long story.”

Jonathan didn’t talk about the Upside Down.

“They kinda look like twins, though. Wonder twins.” Argyle said, smiling. He didn’t ask. Jonathan was thankful for it.

Jonathan took Argyle’s offer for some weed one day, and after that it was… well, conservatives would call it ‘downhill from there’, but Jonathan finally felt at ease. He liked getting high, liked how his mind wandered away, how his fingers felt a little numb, how the bright colors didn’t bother him for once. How he started seeing some beauty in them.

Argyle’s clothes were still just as colorful, and he was just as warm and sunny. They smoked together, they laughed together, he talked to Jonathan and most important, he listened to him.

The worst of it all?

Jonathan didn’t hate him anymore.

Well, maybe not the worst. Maybe it was for the best.

Nancy and Jonathan broke up through the phone late November.

They didn’t call each other a lot. There were a bunch of reasons. Joyce worked on the phone, so it was busy most of the time. When it was free, either El or Will wanted to talk to Mike, and they could go on for hours. Bills could get expensive. And Nancy preferred the letters anyway. Jonathan thought the letters suited her well.

But they broke up through the phone. Maybe it was for the best. Not to taint the beauty of their past love letters.

Jonathan could hear the frown in her voice, and the tears. She could probably hear it just the same in his voice. He loved her, he did. But long distance was hard. And she wanted to go to Emerson, and Jonathan didn’t. His dream has always been NYU, and that dream might be all the way across the country very far away from him, but he could still dream about it. And Lenora Community wasn’t that bad, and Argyle would be there, and so would Joyce and Will and El. And god knows Jonathan couldn’t leave them, his family. Not even for the girl he loved. Not even for his dreams, much less for hers.

Argyle took him to an old junkyard and they smoked more weed that they ever had and they played ‘golf’, aiming the tiny balls into the old cars’ windows and whoever shattered more glass would win. Jonathan had a feeling Argyle let him win on purpose.

Argyle took him to Surfer Boy’s and baked a pie just for him and paid for it with his employee discount and sat across Jonathan on the table and told him insane stories about the kitchen staff and Jonathan had to hold his laughter or he would choke around a slice of pepperoni.

Argyle took him home in the van — Jonathan hadn’t fixed the car, because he didn’t have the money and because he didn’t have to, because Argyle picked them up and dropped them off and the kids liked him and Jonathan didn’t hate him either. As Argyle parked by the Byers’ house, he placed his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, looked him straight in the eye and said:

“Plenty of other midwestern fish in the midwestern sea, man.”

Jonathan wasn’t so sure what to answer to that, so he just chuckled, left the van and went inside the house. Peered through the window as the Surfer Boy’s van took off, some weird dancy reggae loud coming from the stereo. He smiled to himself.

Christmas came, no colorful lights hung up on the Byers’ house.

Argyle gave him a coupon for a month’s worth of Surfer Boy’s pizza. Jonathan didn’t think they’d exchange gifts, but he ran as soon as he could to the little shop he knew Argyle got all his weed items from and brought him a new bong. Argyle loved it and they debuted it together on the back of the van, looking down on the town from the desert.

Some pine trees were decorated and the colorful lights on them weren’t as scary as they would be at Jonathan’s house. He didn’t hate them as much there. Argyle’s shoulder was pressed to his as they shared the bong, and his skin was warm and Jonathan tried not to think too much about how his lips were touching the same place as Argyle’s lips did when pulling in the smoke.

New Years Eve came, and Joyce wasn’t too mad about Jonathan not spending it with the family, not once he told her his plans. Him and Argyle traveled to Santa Barbara, to a New Years Eve Luau, of all things. Argyle had a bunch of friends there — Jonathan was his only friend back at Lenora. He wasn’t bothered by that. He could use some other friends too — Argyle was his only friend back at Lenora.

They smoked, of course, and they listened to music and Argyle even danced with a few other guys. He wasn’t too terrible. He tried to make Jonathan dance too, of course that didn’t happen, but Jonathan was content to just watch. It took him by surprise, that realization: he was content. The moon was in her full glory, it was weirdly cold for a night in California, the sound of the waves were soothing, Argyle’s dark brown hair flew around him and his dark brown eyes twinkled by the fire, and Jonathan was content to just watch him.

Some friend of Argyle lived there and he and Jonathan crashed at the dude’s living room pull-out, heater on blast and Argyle’s back pressed to Jonathan’s back helped too, because the guy was always so damn warm.

Argyle let Jonathan put on some of his cassettes on the ride back to Lenora, and Jonathan sang out loud along with The Clash and the Sex Pistols, and Argyle bobbed his head to the rhythm even though he didn’t seem to like that genre of music, and he said: “These dudes are kinda pissed at stuff, man. They suit you, and all that pent up anger of yours.”

Jonathan reassured him: he wasn’t as pent up, or as angry anymore. Argyle smiled wide at that.

School started again and even their woodworking teacher noticed Jonathan’s change of demeanor and came to tell him how happy he was that Jonathan was finally adapted to the move. The teacher kinda hated Argyle — well he was a menace in class, and his projects were always terrible ideas — and Jonathan wanted to tell the teacher he should thank Argyle for that. He kept his quiet, though, but Argyle seemed to understand the funny look Jonathan threw his way after the pep talk.

Jonathan took his camera — that same one Nancy had given to him on Christmas of ‘83 — out of its box for the first time mid January. Some biology project, and he decided to take pictures to illustrate his work about the local low desert shrubs. Lenora High also had a photography room, and it was better funded than the one in Hawkins High, and once Jonathan revealed his photos and showed them to Argyle, he looked incredibly admired, and asked Jonathan to take some pictures of his mushrooms — of course his project was about mushrooms. He payed Jonathan back in pizzas, of course. Jonathan didn’t mind.

Apparently Argyle gushed about Jonathan’s photos at work because later that month he had a gig with Surfer Boy Pizza’s marketing team. He was also booked for the opening of that roller skate rink downtown. And some early-thinking students hired him to take graduation pictures for them when the time came. Word ran through school and he joined the Yearbook staff, and oh god the school paid well. He could even fix his car if he wanted to — but he didn’t. He liked the van.

He used the money to buy more film, and he used the film to take pictures for himself like he used to. His passion was back, and suddenly he saw so much beauty in the California sun, deserts, colors. He saw beauty in the junkyard, broken, abandoned cars with windows crashed. He saw beauty downtown, the colorful storefronts and the busy colorful people passing by. He saw beauty in the suburbs, kids with their bikes reminding him of home but in a nostalgic way instead of the heartbreaking way he used to miss Hawkins when they had just arrived in Lenora.

Argyle, who was once just a dude in the background of every scenario Jonathan walked into, was now purposefully centered in front of Jonathan’s lenses — his actual camera lenses, and Jonathan was the one centering him there.

He saw beauty in the way Argyle chose his ice cream flavors by which one looked more colorful that day. He saw beauty in the way Argyle’s body would twist when he made a powerful throw with the gold club, strong enough to hit the furthest car in the junkyard. He saw beauty in the way the sun would hit Argyle’s long hair as El braided it for him when they went on a picnic for Joyce’s birthday. He saw beauty in Argyle’s wide laugh when Will said something snarky about a teacher, and he saw beauty in Argyle's soft smile when he noticed Jonathan was taking a picture of him.

“Gonna want to see that one, man,” he said and Jonathan only nodded. Argyle didn’t seem bothered to be his muse, and Jonathan somehow didn’t feel embarrassed to be caught on the act.

He did show Argyle the picture later when he reveled it. He showed all of them, and Argyle looked at them with fondness and looked at Jonathan with even more softness and something warm was happening inside Jonathan’s body that he could name if he wanted to — but he didn’t. He just let himself feel it.

Jonathan took couples' pictures on Valentine’s day, and with the money he and Argyle went to Santa Barbara again on the weekend, and Jonathan took pictures of Argyle sitting in the sand, of Argyle with only his feet dipped in the ice cold sea, of Argyle pointing at something beyond the horizon line from the pier, of Argyle lit and glowing by another luau’s fire.

They slept on the beach that time, because that other dude’s pull-out was booked already, but someone lent them a tent and theirs was just one of many, like a big beach sleepover, and Jonathan never felt hippier, and he never felt happier. He laid on his side and faced Argyle’s profile as he snored softly laying on his back, and Jonathan wanted his eyes to be a camera so he could picture Argyle’s face as he slept peacefully. And Jonathan never felt sappier, and he never felt happier.

As Jonathan woke up the next day he was the one being stared at.

“I’ve seen you taking pictures of me, man, but I have none of you,” Argyle said before even bidding good morning.

“I’m more of a behind the cameras kind of guy.”

“Well that has to change at least for once, because if you’re gonna keep a loving portrait of me in your wallet I want the same honor.” Argyle was smirking, which wasn’t common, and Jonathan laughed loudly, which wasn’t common. He felt high, and he hadn’t smoked since yesterday afternoon.

“I don’t keep a loving portrait of you in my wallet, Argyle.”

“Now I’m just offended. You gotta.” They both laughed again before settling.

The sun was high in the sky already, its light peering through the tent fabric and illuminating the inside, but it was like a refrigerator lamp because it was still too damn cold. Argyle’s body heat was comfortable, though. Jonathan was content.

“I’m not reading wrong into this, am I, man?” Argyle asked after a while.

Jonathan could lie or pretend not to understand the question if he wanted to — but he didn’t.

“You’re not,” he answered. “I’ll let you take a picture of me when I look more presentable.”

“You look pretty enough,” Argyle said, and that warm feeling inside Jonathan’s body creeped up to blush his cheeks, but he was still smiling. “You’ll let me keep it in my wallet?”

Jonathan could answer with actual words if he wanted to — but he didn’t. He just reached forward, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Argyle’s.

He was warm, and sunny, and even his pajamas were colorful, and all that color bled into Jonathan’s life and painted his gray off. Jonathan hated it at first. Of course he hated it. How could he not? Pack all his belongings into a few boxes in just a few hours, take him out of his comfort zone, change his entire view of the world.

But as Argyle’s hand cupped Jonathan’s face, he was warm. He made Jonathan warm, from the outside and from the inside. Jonathan didn’t see it all gray anymore, no, he had an explosion of colors and he didn’t hate them.

Jonathan loved it. Of course he loved it. How could he not?

#jargyle #jargyle fanfic #jargyle fic #jargyle oneshot #jonathan byers x argyle #argyle x jonathan byers #jonathan byers #argyle #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #lui writes

[bubble-popping]

ctechno to cquackity : look i have two boyfriends, just like you- oh wait yeah they've left You ha! Must Suck to be You

LMAO ANON LITERALLY and like it's crazy bc in the au there's like a split second where c!Sapnap and c!Quackity get along but then...

Lore under cut lol

ik u prolly just sent this as a funny anon but imma story dump for a second here

So, after c!Punz has fully integrated into c!Dream and c!Techno's relationship and they have a couple weeks to enjoy peace and quiet, some of the server comes out of the woodwork like 'actually, u guys having happiness is rly problematic :/'

Basically, it's a combination of c!Sam is still Really Normal about Dream, c!Quackity is PISSED abt losing Las Nevadas to Techno, and c!Sapnap just, he just wants his friends back man 😭 Punz going missing was his last straw, finally he steps up like 'I can't lose ANOTHER FRIEND' and he joins Sam and Q to get info out of the Syndicate, rally some of the server behind them, and go on the hunt for drunznoblade.

Now, how the fight actually shakes out is still kinda up in the air, but it'll end with drunznb getting the server to back off (either by just killing a bunch of people or showing it's pointless to go against them)

all this to say, for just some time Sapnap and Q get along again, maybe feel some feelings, but then Sapnap is reminded abt the shit Q did to Dream and he's like 'actually, nvm'

(what that means is also tbd, but feel free to suggest more silly scenarios. lord knows this au needs it 😭)

#dreblr #drunznoblade #into the fire au #bubble answers #in no situation can u fight two guys who can just keep reviving each other and win like c'mon now bro 😭

[borzoilover69]

YOOOOOO whenever i see your meta posts or analysis or posts i go fucking wild. Youare like Tomatograter's type of successor u just rose from the deep darks of the fandom and decided it was ur turn . i mean this, of course, in a psotiive way

I love your writing so much, you get their points so right and also you feed the pumpkin patch fandom very well and we really appreciate it, sheesh!!!!!

i would love to say more about how i love ur thinking but thats the thing, cant put it in words!!!

since im here already, i was wondering, do you think they would ever marry ? (and/or divorce lmao)

Thankyou!!! I had to sit down for a moment.. being compared to such a legend.. *shakes my head* my ego has been stroked, the fire is blazing, and ten children have died in the blaze.

At least i hope i am. I'm touched, i just suddenly appeared and started talking and all you funny people crawled out of the woodworks and started following me like little pikmin. That's a funny image in my head. Ok i took a break to draw it out and it is funny. It is really funny haha.

Tbh i just talk a lot to myself and i decided to put it somewhere other than the walls of my own room for once and captchalogue the lot because i talk a lot. To myself. Most of the time i look back and i think to myself "what was even the point i didnt even make a conclusion im going to fail my english major" but then i remember im not in school anymore so teachers can shove it.

I love dirkjake i'm actually pretty insane about it but i think that's obvious. I'm one snickers away from insane posting about them conciously and only the influx of voices i get about it staves me from putting it on my keyboard. I so get the feeling of not being able to put it in words. But anyways I've talked enough and i drew all of you guys as pikmin so as i was saying.

The only marriage i can see for Dirkjake is either one where they buy rings and then have icecream in 7/11 and then immediately forget about it until sometime they laugh about how they had that nonlegal marriage that one time. Maybe an exchange of vows but they really don't seem like wedding guys. The other option is one where one of them tricks the other into signing marriage nuptials which is really funny to me.

HOWEVER WITH THAT IN MIND. Im a BIG fan of them divorcing as many times per their whims. I think it should be a fucking bit. Like the divorce office has an entire department because they're like regulars at a goddamn bar they can't stop divorcing each other. Addiction is a terrible thing.

dirk texts roxy "Jake and I are eloping to the Bahamas." and then approximately ten minutes later "Jake and I are getting divorced in the Bahamas."

the way their friends know theyve divorced again is when dirk starts posting grindr screenshots making fun of the ppl he talks to on there. He has a priv account and he meets trashy guys and posts their credit card info on his priv for jane and roxy to freely use.

jane and roxy are out for brunch and jane gets a message asking about commissioning a cake and jane excitedly opens it, then loudly sighs and puts her phone screen-down on the table and roxy goes "divorce again?" and jane says "divorce again."

every time they get a cake from jane they ask her to write some funny joke about divorce on it but eventually she starts writing "get your shit together" instead.

jake says something kinda stupid and dirk says "i want a divorce" and everyone in the room laughs but dirk is dead fucking serious.

They're this one video from danny gonzalez. Holy shit do i have so much to say about divorce. Take a photo of me and my boyfriend.

#asks #dirkjake #dirk strider #jake english #homestuck #homestuck meta #oh boy this is a long one #im funny i swear #borzoi talks #borzoi meta

[livingindabisribcage]

2p!Canada Relationship HC

Another one of the lomls. I use Matt as his name

arguably one of the best boyfriends on the planet

yes, he's awkward. yes, he has anger issues. but he still treats you amazing

you met a few days after you moved to the city, and after a couple awkward first interactions he became your first friend there

you did hear about the rumors of the 'strange man in the woods' but you quickly realized matt, while he can come off as very grumpy and mean, more so has a bad case of rbf than anything else

he'll fight people quickly, but not for no reason. and you haven't given him a reason

all Matt really does in his spare time besides patrolling the woods is listen to music, do little sketches, and do lots of woodwork. he doesn't call himself an artist, but he's really good at what he does

I mean, he literally built his own cabin from scratch

after getting with you, he made his cabin a bit prettier and expanded it so that you'd have your own personal space in there. originally, it was very much only for the purpose of living in. only basic rooms that he needed, nothing aesthetically pleasing, just straight to the point

then you come along and he wants to impress you but also make you feel comfortable in his home, because once you're together he takes it very seriously and this is essentially your home too

Matt hasn't been with many people, he's been with a good handful over his hundreds of years, but that's about it. and most of the time he did it out of being lonely, and he hated feeling like that, so he stopped trying a while ago

so you're his first serious relationship in *a while*, and one that he genuinely enjoys being in

practically anything you want to do he'll try and help you do it. be it going somewhere, trying something new, he's finding the right tools or saving money to help you do it

he can be kind of stern with some things when it comes to your safety. you're not allowed to walk around the woods without him, end of story. he doesn't want you touching his wood working tools in case you hurt yourself. anything potentially dangerous he wants to be able to keep an eye on you

ik people generally think of 2ps as like evil and bloodthirsty but that's boring sometimes, so I like to think that Matt has no issues killing someone if they deserve it, and he has definitely killed tons of poachers throughout his life, but he tries to hide all that from you

it's not like he's out hunting people, just if they come into his area, he'll keep an eye on them to see if they do something dumb. and for these periods of time he'll send u back home with some excuse

he also wouldn't tell you he's a country until way into your relationship

he doesn't want things to get messed up because of it, he doesn't want to seem crazy also, but once he's positive that you wouldn't leave him just for that then he'll tell you

it does make him worry about the fact that you'll inevitably age, and he's tempted to ask Oliver if he can find some sort of magic to keep you with him forever, but he won't ask that of you. if you brought it up, maybe, but he would never dare to, it's not his right to mess with your mortality

he's not a very good cook, but he's very good at prepping meat. he's had to hunt to 'survive' before, he's eaten multiple different kinds of animals, so he knows how to handle meat. he just can't promise anything will taste great

he eats really healthy though, so you'll probably be eating healthy as well most of the time

Kuma (I like to think of Matt's Kuma as a wolf) loves you. that alone was a sign that Matt could trust you at least a little, cause Kuma hates everyone

Matt doesn't like you being around his family, but he does brag about you a lot. Especially to Francois, even though he doesn't get along with him, he wants to prove he has a good life

He doesn't want Allen around you though, at least not at first. Allen's a fuckboy, and he doesn't usually care if someone's taken or not if he's just looking to have some fun, so your interactions with him are limited

But Allen does like to hang out with Matt when he can, and Matt does love his brother so he doesn't object usually, so over time you kinda become friends with Allen too

Matt isn't necessarily shy, but he's awkward and doesn't want to upset you by overstepping your boundaries. so he'll be careful about what physical affection he gives you

he'll either wait for you to ask him to do something, or maybe initiate a conversation about what exactly you want from him, and he'll do his best to follow through

when he's comfortable, he can actually be a bit perverted. never in public, but when you're home alone he loves to grab at anything squishy on you

the only negative aspect to Matt is that he is angry and he has a habit of hiding away when he's upset. so he doesn't communicate any of his negative feelings at all. this includes if you're bothering him in some way, because it's just easier for him to be angry alone than deal with it so he might take it out on you in other ways by being extra pissy or snappy

but through some coercion from you, he'll work on it. slowly, but he will

#2pcanada #2p!canada #matt williams #2pcanada x reader #2pcanada headcanons #2pcanada imagine

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Not Your Last {Steve Harrington}

Request: You’re going through a hard time after having just been broken up with. You find comfort in your friend, Steve Harrington.

Character: Steve Harrington x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ - hope u feel better angel, remember u are more than enough xxx

As you wiped your eyes and blew your nose, you wondered when you’d stop crying. For the last week and a bit, all you’d done was cry resulting in permanently puffy eyes and a migraine from the dehydration. Your head fell back, hitting your pillow, and you tried to hold back a second wave as you let out a long breath. At this point, you could practically cry on demand now; everything and anything reminded you of him. Him. Your boyfriend, now ex. He’d broken up with you a week and a bit ago for reasons you just didn’t understand - bullshit  reasons, to be honest. You hadn’t seen it coming, you’d been side-lined by his decision and that’s what hurt the most. You had no idea; you’d thought things were good, nay great, but not to him apparently so he’d ended things abruptly and not very kindly.

Your friends for the last week had been trying to coax you out of the house and to do something with them, something fun to take your mind off of your sadness but you didn’t want to. How could you pretend to have fun when you couldn’t think of anything other than why? All of these unanswered questions ran through your mind day in and day out. Was it you? Had you done something? Did you not make him happy anymore? Was he not attracted to you? Were you too much for him? You had tried to ask these questions but your ex was vague and didn’t really want to deal with all the negative emotions so he pretty much hightailed out of there after telling you and had been avoiding you ever since. You’d not had the full closure so all of your insecurities, all of your little worries and doubts about yourself were coming out of the woodwork to wreck your brain.

Breaking you out of your thoughts, your alarm blared on your bedside table. Shit. Quickly, you leapt up and slammed your hand on it, silencing it with a slap. You were late; you were late for work. After a week of managing to get your shifts covered, today was your first day back at work since the break up. You wished that you could’ve been off for another three weeks but life had to resume at some point, right? You just hoped that it would be an easy day and that no one would bother you plus you would be working with your friend, Steve Harrington, today; how bad could it be?

You got to work twenty minutes late. Steve was already there, he’d opened this morning, “Well, well, look who it isn’t. How we doing?” He leant on the counter, smirking at you with his hair styled to absolute perfection as usual.

You shrugged your jacket off wandering into the back to dump it in a corner before answering, “I haven’t cried in like thirty minutes. That’s a record.” Steve gave you a sad smile, “Thanks for covering some of my shifts this week, means a lot.”

Steve shrugged, “No big deal.” In fact, it had been a pretty big deal. Steve should’ve had a date with Trudy - a hot college girl - and then should’ve been attending what would be known as the biggest college party of the year but when you’d called, all sad and sniffly, asking if he’d help you out... of course he said yes. That boy would’ve went to the Upside Down willingly if you’d asked him to. Yeah, unbeknownst to you (yet known to literally everyone else in Hawkins) Steve Harrington had a massive crush on you. Of course he hadn’t told you, you were friends and you had been in a relationship so he’d kept it secret. Dustin liked to tease him about it all the freaking time but he was sworn to secrecy. You and Steve had been through a lot together, friends for years then getting swept up into the supernatural world with the rest of your friends. Steve would’ve done anything for you so when you’d called asking him to cover some shifts, he cancelled his date and didn’t show up to the party. He didn’t mind that much really. He could tell that you were struggling, the dark bags under your eyes and the permanent teary eyed gaze told him everything that he needed to know. He hated that you were going through this; he hated that your idiot ex had done this to you and caused you so much anguish. Steve didn’t want to push you to tell him so he waited for you to open up to him.

“Can we put on a movie that’s not all lovey dovey?” You asked as Steve began to look through the racks of VHS tapes to find one to show.

He smirked as he plucked one from the shelves, “How about The Thing? Scare the customers to death when they come in?”

“Perfect.” Usually you weren’t such a big fan of horror but right now, you’d happily sit and watch Kurt Russell and the gang fight an alien.

The day moved slowly. Customers trickled in a few every hour. You and Steve sat on the counters and Steve caught you up with everything that you’d missed over the last week. To be honest, nothing otherworldly or anything like that but you’d missed some party stuff and you’d missed Dustin and Steve having a debate about the best song of all time but that was pretty much it. You’d almost gone so far as to say that you felt better. Everything was going fine until... until the door chimed and someone walked in. You turned towards them jumping off of the counter to greet them when your heart sunk, “Welcome to Family Videos, how can I- oh.”

Stood in front of you was your ex-boyfriend carrying a cardboard box. Steve stepped off of the counter, eyes moving back and forth between you and your ex, “Hey, (y/n).” He greeted quietly, “How’ve you been?”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you could feel a lump forming in your throat. No. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction so instead you nodded, “Fine, yeah.” Your voice was thick, “You?”

“Yeah, good thanks.”

A few tense seconds of awkward silence passed before Steve interjected. He knew that you were uncomfortable, he knew that you were close to crying. He could see your hands fidgeting with the sleeves of your t-shirt and he just knew that he needed to get you out of this situation, “Uh, (y/n), can you go into the back and grab the box of new movies that have to go out please?” He asked you.

You glanced at him, “What- Oh, yeah sure.” You were confused but as you glanced at him, he widened his eyes slightly and motioned for you to go to the back. Quickly, you turned on your heel and went into the back, sparing a glance at your ex before closing the door. Tears formed and fell in record time as your breathing quickened. You knew that you’d have to face him at some point but you didn’t think it would happen this soon and out of all the places it could’ve happened, you didn’t expect your ex to show up to your work. You could hear the muffled conversation from Steve and your ex, you tried to listen in.

“I just have a box of (y/n)’s stuff, if you could give it to them I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure... Why’d you bring it here, dude? When we’re working? That’s a bit of a low blow.”

“I didn’t think that me turning up to (y/n)’s house would be much better.”

“And why not?”

“Cause they have loads of questions that I don’t really know the answer to!” You could feel your heart break a bit more as he said the next phrase, “It all gets a bit much with them.”

“Know what, dude, you’re not allowed to come back here ever. Not next week, not next month, hell not in the next five years.”

“Dude, what the-”

“We have the right to refuse service to anyone. Get out.” You could hear Steve opening the counter gate and the voices got more and more muffled so you couldn’t hear them much. The door chimed and then you heard it slam shut. It was only a few seconds before the door swung open and there was Steve, “What an asshole, man,” he scoffed under his breath as he turned to you. You were crumpled on the floor, back pressed against the back wall of the tiny back room and Steve changed completely. He crouched down in front of you and spoke with a soft voice, “He’s gone. I kicked him out and banned him for life. Told him if he comes back then I’ll punch him in the jaw.”

“I heard what he said,” you sniffed as you wiped at your eyes, “It’s all a bit much with them. Am I too much? Is that why he dumped me? Am I too much?”

Steve quickly scooted to you, sitting on the floor and placing his hand on your knee, “No,” he said strongly, “Don’t you dare listen to him. Don’t you dare allow him to make you feel this small and worthless. (y/n), you’re so damn awesome. You’re not too much at all. He’s just a dick who broke your heart and couldn’t be assed dealing with the emotions and questions that came from it... He’s not worth it; he’s not worth all of this.”

You shook your head, too caught up in your own insecurities to really hear what Steve was saying, “Maybe I’m not worth it,” you sobbed, “Maybe I am too much, maybe I’m not pretty enough, not skinny enough... Maybe I’m just not worth it.”

Steve shook his head so hard that pieces of his perfectly styled hair fell out of place, “(y/n), listen to me,” he said strongly. He reached out, pulling to you to look at him as he held your face in his hands, “He’s a jerk, you’re-you’re- (y/n)... You’re everything.” His voice softened completely, “Maybe not to him, maybe he just didn’t see all of the reasons why you’re so freaking perfect the way you are but that doesn’t mean that everyone ignores them. He might’ve been your first love but he sure as hell won’t be the last.” Your breathing began to slow as you looked at Steve. The way he looked at you, eyes boring into yours... it was... different, “(y/n), you are more than enough, more than worth it... It’s his loss.”

“You really think so?” You sniffed quietly.

Steve rolled his eyes, “(y/n), I’ve had a crush on you for years now, I promise you that you’re pretty damn perfect. You’re gorgeous for a start, funny, dorky, you’re kind and you listen... You blast music and sing with me in the car, you entertain me with stupid jokes and weird impressions... You not only care about me but you care so much about all the kids too, you’d do anything to keep them safe... You are so damn worth it; never doubt yourself.” His words span around your head and it took you a minute to realise you’d stopped crying, “It’s his loss. Not yours. You’ll find love again, you’ll find a partner again and you’ll be happy again. I promise you. He’s not the last love of your life.”

You nodded, giving him a tiny smile. You were about to speak when you heard the door chime and someone calling out, “Hello? Anyone here?”

Steve mentally cursed himself for not locking the door, “You okay?” He asked softly.

“Better now, yeah.” You nodded.

Steve dropped his hands from your face and gave you a final nod before standing and calling back, “Yeah, I’m here.” He opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him. He’d attend to this customer whilst you got yourself cleaned up. Clearing your throat, you grabbed some tissues, wiping your eyes and nose. You waited until the customer had gone before you left the office.

“Was returning some stuff,” Steve said as you walked out. He gestured to some VHS tapes on the counter, “Said he forgot to rewind them back to the beginning, yeah right! Jerk.”

You laughed slightly, “I’ll deal with them,” you said, picking them up, “Hey... Thank you for back there. Even going so far as pretending to have a crush on me to boost my ego a bit.” To be honest, you didn’t know if Steve had pretended or not, you just couldn’t see it happening in real life so you just assumed he was being a good friend, “I really needed to hear that. Thanks, Steve.”

Steve faltered, “Uh, yeah... Sure, no problem.” He didn’t want to tell you yet. He didn’t want to tell you that he wasn’t pretending, that he meant every single damn word of that speech and more. It wasn’t his place just now. Not when you were sad and vulnerable after a break up. No, he’d tell you once you’d healed, once the time was right... He’d tell you when you were ready to hear it. For now, he’d pretend to be your friend, pretend that everything was normal... For now, he would wait, “I mean it though, you’re worth so much more than him (y/n).”

#one shot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #os #stranger things #stranger things one shot #steve harrington imagine #imagine #st #st imagine #st one shot #stranger things season 4 #steve the hair harrington #harrington

[bebepac]

Holiday Vibes 🎄

I am participating in @choicesficwriterscreations  holiday event 2022.  

I am also participating in @choicesflashfics prompt #21 “it looks like Santa threw up in here.” will appear in bold

I am also participating in  @choicesholidays​ prompt well that’s the holiday spirit which is the overall theme of this story.

Series: School Dayz

The Book:  TRR (no royals) 

Pairings: Liam x Riley

Word Count: 1036

Song Inspiration:  Silent Night by the Temptations

Warnings and Ratings:  None. Everyone.  A total fluff piece.

Original Post: 12/18/22 at 10:45PM EST.

“Thanks for driving me to the mall today, and driving me around when Jaiden can’t.”

“It’s no problem, and I like driving you around, makes me feel manly. Like i'm a super boyfriend.”  

Liam’s face turned bright pink.  

“I…..said that out loud didn’t I?”

“You did but it’s okay. And you are a ‘Super Boyfriend.’ I like that you’re always adorkably honest with me.”

The smile faded from her face and her face was replaced with a serious look.

“You know, the car accident sliding on the ice during the storm really scared me Liam.”

“I know it did, but I’m glad you and Taylor were okay.  When I saw your Jeep…. My heart stopped, Riley. I was so worried you were hurt.”

Liam took her hand and held it.  

“I’m okay.  It means a lot that you care so much.”

Riley gently squeezed his hand in return.  She still had bruising to the side of her face, and arm because when they skidded out of control, Taylor wasn't wearing her seatbelt, and Riley reached out to hold Taylor back, when the airbags deployed.

“I just want you to know I do, and I’ll drive you around as long as you need me to or want me to.”

“Thank you Liam.”

“You’re welcome.  So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the afternoon?”  

“Well if you want to hang out with us for a bit, we might be doing some Christmas tree decorating.  Dad said you could stay for dinner.”  

“That sounds nice.  He’s warming up to me, don’t you think?”

“Yeah maybe he is.  I mean as much as my dad can warm  up to people.”

When they pulled to a stop in front of the Brooks’s residence Riley laughed at the look on Liam’s face.

“Whoa…. Looks like Mr. Brooks has been busy.”  

“Dad loves Christmas, it is by far his favorite holiday.”

When they left the Brooks household that morning, there was no Christmas decor up. Coming back that evening the yard was filled with Christmas decorations 

and the house had been strung with lots of Christmas lights.  

Liam grabbed some of Riley’s shopping bags to assist her bringing them inside.  No one appeared to be nearby, so Liam spoke freely.

“Whoa…. It looks like Santa threw up in here.” 

And the Brooks family came out the woodworks like ninjas, starting with Mr. Brooks.

“No Liam, tell me how you feel about our Christmas decorations.” 

Taylor burst out laughing from the couch as Mr. Brooks stepped out into the foyer holding yet another a string of Christmas lights.

“Damn Liam. You just like stepping on landmines don’t you?”

“Jai! Language!”  Mrs. Brooks exclaimed.

“I’m sorry. I’m just not used to a lot of Christmas decorations. My family doesn’t really do holidays like this.  I think it’s really nice.”  

Ren affectionately rubbed Mr. Brooks’s shoulders.  

“Jason and I grew up in the foster care system, and holidays were hard when you were living in foster homes at the holidays.  We both vowed if we ever had families, we would celebrate.  It’s very important to us.  So we always go all out.”  

“Wow, I really meant no disrespect with what I said.”  

“It’s okay Liam. Go help Riley put her presents away in her room, and you can come back and help us decorate.”  

Liam hurried and helped Riley put her gifts in her closet to hide them and almost ran back down stairs to  the living room area.  He looked excited to be helping with decorating the Christmas tree.

“That’s some very meticulous placing of the Christmas ornaments Liam.  I could almost take a ruler to those and i’m sure their spacing would be identical.”  

“I don’t want to mess the tree up Mr. Brooks.”

“You can’t mess decorating a Christmas tree up.  At least not on my year.  I like bright colorful trees.  So does Taylor.”

He pointed to the box of ornaments.  There were so many different colored ornaments and trinkets in the box.  “We bring out the crazy.  Next year is Ren and Riley’s year,  they like a silver and gold tree with white lights.”

“And Jaiden, what about you? What type of tree do you like?” Liam asked Jaiden.

“I don’t care either way, as long as there are presents for me under said tree.”

“Seems legit.”  

Mrs. Brooks had disappeared from the decorating and had been in the kitchen for a little bit and emerged from the kitchen with a tray sitting down first a tray of cookies, then coming back shortly with a tray of cups of hot cocoa.  Mr. Brooks was still admiring their handiwork.  

“I think it’s time.”  

Ren looked at Jai.  “You know what to do.”  

“I’m on it Mom.”

As the lights in the living room started to dim slowly, Jason’s favorite Christmas song started  playing over the living room surround sound.  It was never officially Christmas in the Brooks’s household unless he heard The Temptation’s version of Silent Night.    

When the song hit its iconic first verse, the Brooks’s living room, the Brook's tree erupted with colorful light.

There was silence for a few moments while Jason wrapped his arm around Ren sipping some cocoa.

"This was a good one, Ren."

"You're right it is. Liam, you did a good job."

"Thank you sir."

After dinner Mr. Brooks pulled Liam aside.

"Yes sir?"

"What are you doing for Christmas, Liam?"

His face turned bright pink.

"Nothing, my Dad will be away, it's going to be just me and Leo. The cooks will make us dinner."

"What does your father do for a living Liam?"

"He's a corporate lawyer. They call him Constantine the Cutthroat."

"Sounds like he's a great lawyer."

"He is. Just a crappy father."

Jason looked at Liam sympathetically.

"You and your brother have plans now.  You're spending Christmas Eve and Day with us."

"Seriously Dad?!?!"

"We'll have plenty of food, and it's the least we can do, because Liam refuses to take gas money to chauffeur you around."

"Thank you Dad."

Riley hugged Jason.

"You're welcome, Jelly Bean."

When Riley's dad left the room, she turned to Liam with a huge smile.

"See! you were right, my Dad is warming up to you. This is huge."

Liam smiled back at her.  It was a bittersweet moment for Liam, but deep down the excitement outweighed the sadness. This was going to be the first Christmas he would really be celebrating since the passing of his mother.

#bebepac writes #cfwc holidays 2022 #school dayz #liam x riley forever #choices fanfiction #liam x riley #christmas fics #choices fic writers creations #choicesflashfics #choicesprompt

[rebelcourtesan]

Hellava Boss S2, Ep3: Exes and Ooohs Shows us the Difference Between Good and Bad Parters

Been meaning to write about this for a while, but due to editing Thicker than Water, I've put this on the backburner and now I can finally give my thoughts to a hidden theme of this episode.

In Hellava Boss S2 Ep 3: Exes and Ooohs we are introduced to Moxxie's background, family (Crimson), and ex-boyfriend (Chaz).

Chaz fascinated me as early as the season 2 animatic trailer from his sign (Tell your dad it's a salemen) and wondering about his character and intrigued he was Moxxie's ex. I expected the plot to be Chaz returning to Moxxie's life to draw him into a scheme and temptation much to Millie's fury.

I have to say, the plot for Ex and Ohs was more intriguing and telling than I could have imagined.

Unless a lost love comes out of the woodwork, we can assume that Moxxie has had only two significant others in his life, Chaz and Millie.

Let's assume Chaz is Moxxie's first love and bi-sexual relationship.

It's instant attraction on Moxxie's part who first meets Chaz at his induction ceremony into the mafia. From his shy awkwardness around Chaz during a turf war with another gang and a relationship was formed.

We're only given brief glimpse into their relationship enough to tell us they snuck around behind homophobic Crimson's back and judging from how Chaz helped Moxxie 'polish' rifle and drawing him nude, it was very sexual. From Chaz's words when he tried to seduce Moxxie, they both enjoyed sexually charged musical numbers.

However, judging from Chaz's behavior in the present, he was a very narcissistic and self-serving, which could mean he intended to seduce Moxxie, the son of the Mafioso Don, to get into mafia's good graces or perhaps enjoyed the thrill having the attentions of a Moxxie who would be considered a higher figure in the mafia's hierarchy.

I'm afraid that Moxxie goes along with Chaz's toxicity because he doesn't know what a good partner is at this time in his life. Remember, the only example he has seen of a relationship is the abusive one between his parents. He probably believes that since Chaz isn't physically abusive, then he's a good partner and overlooks his flaws.

While I'm certain Moxxie loved Chaz, Chaz strikes me as someone too in love with himself to love another. Hence we witness the end of their relationship.

While we do see Chaz worry for Moxxie for a split second before gunshots spook him, he makes a ultimate decision to service himself and take the money, leaving Moxxie behind which shatters Moxxie's heart.

From there, we witness Moxxie meeting Blitz in prison where it's assumed they escaped together and Moxxie joined Blitz's I.M.P, and meets Millie whom he marries shortly after.

Not only is their partnership formidable, but the most loving and wholesome relationship I've seen in the Hellaverse. While their relationship is sexual, it is also fulfilling emotionally and mentally for them them. Over the course of the series, we've seen them be so supportive and protective of each other.

I have yet to see them fall into any of the couples troupes I've seen in so many television couples. They don't get into petty arguments, nor have trust issues, nor jealousies. While we do have the troupe of the in-laws not accepting their daughter's husband, Millie always took Moxxie's side and assured him he was good enough for her.

Unlike Chaz who abandoned Moxxie to service himself, Millie fought off human agents, a giant fish monster, Striker, and Fizzarolli to protect Moxxie. She would NEVER have left him at the bank and enraged at Chaz for doing so.

Now let's take a closer look at the events that unfold in Exes and Ooohs as there is a stark contrast between Chaz and Millie.

As we learn later in the episode, Chaz hatches a plan to become part of Crim's mafia family by marrying Moxxie. Not sure if this is his plan the whole time as he waited a while to put it in motion. To be honest, Chaz comes across as someone who lacks the patience to play the long game. My theory is Chaz took the money from the failed heist for himself and spent it all, but ended up in debt. Being that it's the Greed Ring in Hell, his life may have been in danger and what better way to get the money he needs and protection is to marry into a criminal family.

However, Moxxie wasn't happy about the idea one bit.

In the scene where Moxxie retires to his old bedroom, we see its already been taken over by Chaz who covers the walls with pictures of himself in the nude.

(In a side note, I suspect that Chaz might have had a gig as a model, but due to his attitude and hyper fixation with sex ruined any chances of a profitable career).

Several times in this scene, Moxxie both physically and verbally tells Chaz he's not interested. He looks away from Chaz during the serenade, pushes him away when he attempts to side hug him, and tells him repeatedly to leave him alone. Chaz persists to the point Moxxie kicks him out of the room.

In this scene, Chaz doesn't listen to Moxxie's wishes, persistent despite Moxxie's rejections, and has no respect for what Moxxie wants.

Chaz only cares about what Chaz wants and that's money and being inducted into the family, whether Moxxie is happy about it or not.

And he caries nothing for what Moxxie wants. Literally, Moxxie is tased, forced into dress, tried up, gagged, and held at the altar by Crim and no once did Chaz show any remorse nor hesitation. He was getting what he wants at Moxxie's expense and there is no guarantee if Crim wasn't going to kill Moxxie after the ceremony for defying him.

At any time, Chaz COULD have called it off, but he did not.

On the flipside, let's look at Millie's interaction with Moxxie earlier.

Upon arriving at Crim's house, she knew something wasn't right with Moxxie. She picked up on his discomfort around Crim and his deference towards his father concerned her. After Moxxie is intimidated by Crim, he shares a moment with Millie.

Again, she KNOWS something is wrong and it concerns her. Especially since they have to stay in separate rooms. I believe she was hoping to have time alone with Moxxie to find out what's wrong, but with Alessio standing over them and Crim's threat weighing heavily on him, Moxxie tells her everything is okay.

Millie knows her husband and can see he's upset. She assures him he could tell her what's wrong, but doesn't get upset or impatient when he doesn't tell her what's going on. She can tell he isn't ready to tell her and doesn't press him, respecting his boundaries.

In this one scene, she has shown more respect and patience for Moxxie than Chaz as every shown Moxxie in their relationship. She trusts Moxxie to tell her when he's ready and supports him, telling him she loves him and he can tell her anything.

Because she genuine loves Moxxie and cares for his feelings and wellbeing. This woman fought for him and carved a bloody trailer through sharks to save him from a loveless marriage.

I can see why Blitz, who is obsessed with their relationship. While Blitz's attitude towards love and sex is a whole other essay, their relationship is something he wishes for himself to the point he wants to join in on it.

On a side note, this episode totally cemented my theory that Blitz has a crush on them wants to join their marriage in a polyamorous relationship.

Anyway, I like the contrast between Millie and Chaz's relationship with Moxxie and decided to write a post about it.

#helluva boss #essay #helluva boss moxxie #helluva millie #exes and oohs

[alaskashigh]

Hii! How do you think Arkansas feels about his border states (Louisiana, Texas, Oklahoma, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Missouri)? and do you have any fun headcanons about him?

thank youu :3

writing this again bc it deleted the first time (sighh)

He doesn’t hate them, per-say, but he doesn’t go out of his way to be with them. (i guess?) Okay so, i headcanon him as an ambivert (shout out to his boyfriend, Montana, who’s an omnivert. I swear im not projecting on the both of them ((im lying so hard rn)), so whilst he can alter his mood and energy to correlate with others, he needs time to relax and recharge at home without his noisy and overwhelming fellow border states breathing down his neck (when they do remember him, that is). He enjoys hanging out with them when he does, but he wouldn’t hang out with them every day, y’know what i’m saying?

He is almost always outside doing anything and everything. Statehouse roof broken or window squeaking? He’s there to fix it. Tree fallen over blocking all of the cars from leaving? It’s already been dealt with. Half of the time the states don’t even get the chance to ask him to fix something because he’s already done it.

Woodworking, mining, and jewelry making are his favorite hobbies. He’s made many different statues and furniture, but his favorite thing he loves to make are random small objects. He’s made figurines, bird houses for the many northern mocking birds that show up at his home, kitchenware with cool intricated designs, and many more things. He also loves to mine diamonds from his state diamond park (crater of diamonds park) and make jewelry with it or use it in his woodworking designs. A lot of the southern states including a few other states from different regions have commissioned jewelry and furniture from him.

His kids are very active and always coming and going through his house (i wonder who they get that from, Arkansas). His kids randomly stop by his house (their old home) to sit and watch sports or play football outside and each time Arkansas always jokingly tells them to gtfo. (he’s fond of his kids, even if their a little annoying sometimes)

The majority of Arkansas kids are boys and when i tell you they are so rowdy and always getting into trouble because these bitches cannot keep their hands to themselves or not fight their brother for one second- i mean it. They go after their sisters too and vice versa, but the boys are mainly physically messing with each other.

It always ends with Arkansas telling them to fight it out outside or telling them to move to different rooms.

(Unless Montana is coming over for a date, then he warns them that if they get into one fight or do something stupid he’ll kick their asses ((Not seriously, he wouldn’t lay a hand on any of them and they all know that.))

+ Montana finds Arkansas kids endearing and sees his scrappy boyfriend in all of them. He’s trying his hardest to impress them and is always thinking about introducing his kids when they like him. (Arkansas assures him that his kids love him. ((It took a long time of convincing and getting to know Montana for the kids to accept him and like him since they have trust issues and are protective when it comes to their family.))

With Arkansas hobbies of canoeing, woodworking, mining, etc, plus his scrappy but outgoing personality, he’s always got cuts and bruises all over himself from being out so much. he couldn’t tell you exactly where each one is from, scars n all. Since he’s always looking like he just got done fighting a bear it’s no longer a surprise when he rarely shows up to a meeting or to an event looking scruffy.

He loves nature, which is no surprise when his nickname is literally “The Natural State,” and so I think that he and Colorado could get along. Now Arkansas would probably become a bit agitated after awhile with him being high all of the time, but I could see him enjoying hiking or rock climbing together every once every blue moon.

I could also see Colorado enjoying Arkansas tagging along with him since he doesn’t really have a buddy to go and do fun outdoor things.

(also a reason why Arkansas/Colorado is something I enjoy to dabble in from time to time. i’m not exactly sold on who I mainly ship Arkansas with, including Colorado, so i’ve just been swapping them around with different states like ping pong balls in an arcade machine. so far it’s mainly been Arkansas/Montana and Colorado/Connecticut, though.)

Arkansas loves speed. Race cars? Sign him up. Horses? Sure, give him the fastest one. Rollercoasters? He’ll ignore the people just to get a quick exhilarating 5 minutes of his life. He loves taking it slow and relaxing, sitting on his couch watching a show after a long day, thundering rain like soothing background music hammering against his window and roof. But he also loves going as fast as possible, feeling the wind hitting his face and hair as he’s shot through the atmosphere like a bullet. He’s a thrill seeker and loves anything exhilarating from time to time.

His family likes to do game nights for certain events or holidays. it starts out happy and fun before all hell breaks lose and their screaming and yelling at each other. Montana still shivers when remembering how a simple game of monopoly had Jonesboro sent to the hospital in the same night with a broken arm.

(Fayetteville jumped Little Rock one night over the “best slice of pizza” and Montana immediately knew that Arkansas kids don’t play around.)

how do I always manage ranting about the states kids instead of the state in all of my headcanons?? anyways, ending this here because it’s late and i’m tired. i hope you enjoyed these though! (sorry how it kinda got more focused on his cities ((kids)) and Montana instead of Arkansas)

#wttt arkansas #wttsh arkansas #wttt montana #wttsh montana #wttt colorado #wttsh colorado #welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #wttt #wttsh #ben brainard

[olderthannetfic]

Fandom discussions that happen through the anon ask box of a third user who kindly lets us share our opinions on her personal blog obviously risk becoming flat and all that, but I'm kind of stuck on that bi4bi M/F ask because, like... what is the point of critiquing fans for their dumb ship wars and then you just insert yourself in said ship wars like that?

There is something to be said about how fandom treats cishet women (by acting like they're the only demographic present, by refusing to acknowledge their existence, by treating cishet women like the the devil, and also by using the "cishet woman" label as a way of silencing any queer person who disagree with one's opinion, which in itself has a number of other implications), but, like (and maybe this feels a bit personal for me because I've seen it happen one too many times) queer people—especially bisexuals—often "insist" that their M/F ships are bi4bi bc they're tired of bisexuality getting erased, especially when online fandom, like most other online (and offline) spaces, loves to both imply and directly state that bisexual people in M/F relationships aren't queer, or not queer enough, with the opposite also happening in F/F and M/M ships, where a character suddenly turns monosexual, or where bisexuality is not even contemplated.

It feels pretty naive to not take into consideration how that "insistence" often comes from a place of hurt, and not from the implication that being straight is Bad And Wrong™.

And obviously, whatever, everyone can ship whatever they want. But I have to question how many queer people—who aren't, like, antis or whatever—just go up to other fandomgoers and tell them that they're being queerphobic, really, because X ships should be bi4bi. Because there is a difference between someone saying that X and Y are bi, actually, in their own profile (or even lamenting the lack of bi4bi ships) vs. them directly going under a fanfic or other people's post to accuse them of being too straight or whatever.

It can still be annoying, mind you. Sometimes there are implications in how people explain themselves and share what they'd like to see more of in fanworks. I know for sure that some of the "Why don't we never see X" post can be annoying as fuck. Also, fans do often weaponize their (even if real, tangible) pain as a way to win arguments and demonize the other side—we see this happen with antis all the time. But it kinda makes me laugh when people try to critique this by flattening the discussion like this.

Obviously, discourse is annoying and wanting to be as far as possible from it is 100% understandable. And sometimes people just want to complain, which is also fair. But I feel like generalized complaints like this, posted on what is basically a public forum, often just fuels the discourse instead of shutting it off.

--

TBH, the main time I see bi4bi come up is when I post stats about het on FFN or something, and people come out of the woodwork to remind everyone that just because something is f/m, that doesn't necessarily mean it's het. (I promise you that 99.99999999% of the stuff I surveyed on FFN is the hettiest het to ever het.)

I haven't seen any policing of other people shipping the same m/f ship for not making it bi4bi. It might be out there, but it's not something I run into.

I have seen plenty of complaints about canons that end in m/f with a bi character not being queer enough. The funniest one I ever saw was about Stage Beauty.

I mean... it does end in the leads getting together... But...

(This is that historical movie where he's an actor playing women's roles, then the law changes, and men can only play men and women are allowed to be actresses. It upends his whole life and loses him his boyfriend. His assistant who's obsessed with him in kind of a "Do I want them or do I want to be them?" way takes over his old signature role of Desdemona. He's bitterly jealous, of course. Then they invent naturalistic acting in the space of a month because this movie is very historically accurate. Anyway, it would be pretty queer just for all the gender bullshit that's going on in the main f/m ship even if he weren't visibly also interested in men.)

IDK, I've found annoying people on both sides of this: letting you know f/m can be bi4bi when nobody asked and insisting things are Not Queer just because the endgame ship is f/m.

[saiikavon]

(This one’s for me. Kaiba is extra af as a lover. Also the setting layout seems improbable but we’ll all just have to deal with it.)

“Are you fuckin' kiddin’ me with this?!”

Kaiba ripped the receiver away from his ear as Jounouchi decided to screech into it. He spent a mildly embarrassing few seconds trying to figure out what he’d done wrong this time before he registered the quality of Jounouchi’s voice - breathless with the threat of a laugh, pitch rising at the end in a giddy note. Despite the words, Jounouchi was not angry. Just the opposite.

He’d seen it.

Placing Jounouchi on speaker, Kaiba gave himself a moment to let the sense of satisfaction roll through his body before responding in a coy manner: “You’re going to have to be more specific, Katsuya.”

“You know what I’m talking about, you - I mean this fuckin’...! Holy shit, that’s my Red Eyes! Babe!”

A solid whoop of laughter punctuated the declaration, and Kaiba couldn’t stop the way his smirk softened into a smile. The leather of his desk chair creaked as he leaned back. “Ah, yes. The display board.”

Jounouchi laughed again, then affected a deeper tone in a parody of his lover. “’Ah, yes, the totally-not-a-big-deal thing at my theme park with my boyfriend’s face and dragon on it.’ Seriously, when did you have time to do this? The tournament ended like two days ago!”

He was speaking, of course, of Pegasus’ latest Duel Monsters tournament overseas, where he’d been for the past week. Neither Yugi nor Kaiba himself had been able to attend, but they’d given Jounouchi their full support - and as far as Kaiba had been concerned, Jououchi’s win was all but a foregone conclusion.

“I started immediately after you left, of course,” Kaiba answered honestly. “The programming wasn’t overly challenging; and besides, I knew that none of your competitors were remotely in your league.”

It wasn’t flattery in the slightest. The tournament roster had not kept up with Jounouchi’s consistent improvement, and in some ways, the competition itself was beneath him. But Jounouchi had received a personal invitation from Pegasus, and that looked promising for potential future sponsors.

As did a huge, congratulatory display board in the center of KaibaLand, proudly showcasing Jounouchi’s grinning face and trademark victory pose. The Red Eyes had been a special touch, and Kaiba was particularly pleased that it had met approval. He could picture it now, those black scales glinting in the sunlight as it circled around the board, occasionally lighting a flare into the sky.

Even easier to picture was the cheeky grin Jounouchi was certainly wearing as he said, “Careful, people are gonna think you’re biased.”

“Good thing it wasn’t my tournament,” Kaiba answered. “Though you could consider this my bid for sponsorship. I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered on that front?”

“Nice try, babe, but that’s still a cheap shot I’m not letting anybody take. No one’s gonna say I didn’t earn my spot.”

Kaiba bit his tongue, though it would have been easy to rekindle the old argument. He still thought it a much nicer image, Jounouchi staking claim in KaibaCorp. promotional material as should be his right; but he had to respect Jounouchi’s choice, too. The fact remained that there would be people coming out of the woodwork to accuse Jounouchi of riding his lover’s extravagant coattails to the top. And while Kaiba had been confident he could thoroughly destroy such rumors the moment they appeared, Jounouchi had preferred not to invite them at all.

But that didn’t mean that Kaiba couldn’t lavish entirely deserved gifts upon him if he so desired.

“Fair enough,” he said at last. He could be a little proud of himself for letting it go. “It still works as free advertisement - I have little doubt you’ll gain interest after this win.”

“Fancy way of saying you’re proud of me.”

“I thought the display board made that very clear.” Kaiba smirked. His finger caressed the armrest of his chair, where he would have wanted to touch Jounouchi’s hand.

Playfulness slowly receded from Kaiba’s tone, replaced instead with the weariness of longing. Jounouchi had been away a week, after all, and he trapped watching from afar. A foreign feeling, and it weighed heavy.

“Congratulations, Katusya. And welcome home.”

A deep breath on the other line. “S’good to be back, Seto.”

Kaiba had more work to do, surely, but it hardly mattered right at that moment. He was already shutting off his computer, pushing away from the desk. Numbers and figures were replaced with brown eyes and sun-kissed skin, the very same he’d spent hours capturing in perfect detail on that display board. But it couldn’t beat the real thing.

“I’m coming down to meet you.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

The call ended without a goodbye, but soon enough, their perfect reunion would make it unnecessary, anyway.

#yugioh #puppyshipping #violetshipping #fluff #my work #kaiba being needy #always gotta end these things all mushy

[butchmartyr]

What do you mean about transandrophobia truther .. do you mean that you don't want people on your blog that believe it's A Thing. Cause if you dont want to interact with transmisogynists you can write that specifically. Other trans people have experiences that might be different than your own, the idea that transmasculine people face unique oppression and some of it is from being masculine, can coexist with the idea that transmisogyny is the backbone of queerphobia and that tma foiks suffer. Idk

i don’t want people who believe that on my blog because they tend to be transmisogynists, to varying degrees. i have that because it used to say transmisogynists dni, but transmasc transmisogynists dont realize or believe what they’re doing, and this filters them out easier. every time i tried to talk about tme trans people taking part in transmisogyny, i would have transmascs crawling out of the woodwork to take me in bad faith and say I hate ppl who were afab or something. it isn’t that I think transmascs dont face unique oppression- all manner of people experience all manner of thing and this important to understand- but I think that if you parse it is that way, so obviously in reflection of a flawed understanding of transmisogyny, your logic is flawed and skews you against trans women, and that’s not even talking about the community of people who believe this and the cryptos in their wake talking abt male socialization. those things you’re saying can coexist but misandry is not real and most situations targeting a transmascs masculinity are explained better by looking at the root cause. I don’t think it’s helpful to obfuscate the issue

shitty boyfriend implying you shouldn’t present more masculine? this isn’t because masculinity is seen as bad, it’s because of transphobia; he might say he thinks it’s bad, but the point is that he’s being transphobic through his targeting and actions

#asks #genderposting