#'was there required reading for this apocalypse???'
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snek-eyes · 11 months ago
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oh Newt 😆
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mostlyonthefloor · 6 months ago
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uhhhh zombie apocalypse AU! I have one kicking around somewhere let's see if anything matches
HEEEEEEEEEEY I have quite literally been so sick ever since you sent this ask when I got it I was like 'hey nice of Juan to leave me an ask I'll get to that when I feel better'. Well it took me a sec. Brotherband-style because you know I don't do anything else
I'm imagining an almost Tomorrow When The War Began-style situation in which the Herons (and potentially other brotherbands) are in the forest as a little team doing some sort of high school Team Building/Bonding/Fucked-Up School Camp (so just normal school camp then) activity and then when food stopped coming it occurred to them to check and they were all just like OH GOD OH FUCK WHAT IS THIS
Hal employs his knowledge of mechanics to hotwire and later fix up and modify car/s for them to illegally drive (theyre like fucking sixteen. but it's the zombie apocalypse so who cares the police are busy). Thorn, in keeping with his mentor role, teaches the gang to siphon fuel. Absolutely nobody knows how he knew this
Basically I'm imagining them getting two or three cars together and just travelling around the heavily rural place trying to find fuel and not get fucking killed by the zombies as they try to return to their small hometown to find out if their family is alright. They definitely have like one motorbike strapped to one of the cars. Their plan is basically to just be faster than the zombies and it works pretty well
Hal drives, Stig drives sometimes but really likes riding shotgun in Hal's car, Lydia (who is found escaping the zombie-infested ruins of Limmat with a shit ton of money) drives, Edvin drives, Thorn drives. Stef can drive if necessary, Jesper is banned from driving purely because nobody trusts him, Ingvar can't drive for obvious reasons (sorry bud), Ulf and Wulf are summarily banned from driving because if they're in the same car they argue viciously and if they're in different cars they get way too competitive and it just gets dangerous.
All their families are fine, by the way. Erak, reasonably reluctant mayor and ex-serviceman, is running this shit like the navy and almost nobody has been hurt or killed
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misteria247 · 2 months ago
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I'm realizing that Stan is actually incredibly smart. Like in a Ford kind of way to some extent.
Like yes Stan's street smart and life smart but he's also got the smarts that Ford's praised for. Because he had rebuilt the portal and figured out his brother's notes and equations.
Like do you know how hard math is on Ford and Fiddleford's level of expertise??? How complicated and delicate it is????? Especially the kind that brings portals to life???? And Stan figured it out. Had taught himself to read and comprehend these difficult things. Difficult things that requires college degrees in science and mathematics.
And Stan did this on an incomplete high school grade level of academics.
That's fucking nuts. Sure it took 30 years but he learned it. By himself, can you imagine how frustrated he got, teaching himself Ford's educational level??? Using his mechanical skills of fixing his car to be up to par to Fiddleford's impressive craftsmanship????
And I can just see how Ford and Fiddleford react post apocalypse. Ford doing equations and science stuff and talking while Fiddleford listens and gives his input when Stan pipes up unintentionally and puts his hat into the ring. And it's mathematically sound?? And these two men are just blown away cuz what the actual hell?? Ford's immediately questioning Stan, wanting to hear his thoughts while Fiddleford watches impressed and Stan's mortified and a bit overwhelmed. Or Fiddleford working on something and Ford's watching him when Stan points out a better way to make a part work and Fidds is like omg thank you Stanley??? And Ford's looking at his little brother dumbfounded and itching to bomb him with questions and whatnot.
Stan never knows peace afterwards.
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tragedygroupie · 2 months ago
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babysitter blues
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cw: LEGAL age gap, fingering, praise kink, loss of virginity, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), daddy kink, blink and you’ll miss it dacryphilia, authority kink (???), imbalanced power dynamic kinda???, alexandria rick, kind of long winded buildup to the smut, brief substance use (alcohol), soft dom! rick… yeah that’s all i can think of rn.
your entire life had been colored by an overwhelming sense of inertia. tucked away in the mundane labyrinth of the suburbs, not even the advent of the apocalypse could blot out the pervasive sense of ennui that had followed you since childhood. the horrors of the newly established outer world, the grotesque undead and the occasionally more dangerous still living were completely unknown to you. the apocalypse had not annihilated your reality, it merely redefined the confines of your sequestration.
life in alexandria was largely a matter of finding a way to pass the time. girls that barely qualified as adults weren’t exactly hot commodities, rarely sought out for anything, so it fell on you to fill the hours until the end of the world.
sometimes it was reading, which slowly morphed into a project of creating a library for the community, almost entirely curated from your own collection, with some generous donations here and there from bemused older folks surprised that young people still cared about that kind of thing.
other times it was babysitting, which started largely as preemptive measure to get out of being assigned any kind of work that would require any amount of physical activity. sure it was lazy, but you enjoyed the company of most of the kids, and they all liked you, enchanted by the whimsical dresses you wore and the stuffed animal army you had at your disposal.
truly, the only visible sign that you were experiencing an apocalypse rather than another red hot american summer were the bags under your eyes, perpetually exhausted from the never ending parade of nightmares that left you jolting awake, violently gasping for air.
a girl like you had no business hanging around a man like rick grimes. perpetually tense, eyes wildly darting around like he was itching to drive the butter knife he spread his jam with into the throat of some unspecified assailant. a bloody splash of color in your grayscale world. he was unlike anything you’d ever seen, a Marlboro man, blue collar through and through, from the dirt that he could never seem to fully rid his nails of to the rough, calloused hands that secretly made your mouth water.
this was the apocalypse, yet your sense of self preservation was as brittle as it’d been when you were sixteen. all your snark, that goddamn mouth that always got you in trouble evaporated when you were around him, replaced with an unfamiliar earnestness that made you cringe internally. you tried, really you did, to not follow him around like a lovesick puppy, to think of reasonable pretenses for your incessant need to be in his proximity, and fortunately enough, you quickly found an in.
no matter how adept rick was in this new world, he seemingly struggled when it came to childcare. when it came to his daughter, he was wildly protective yet somehow simultaneously clueless, and the first time you saw something approaching relief flash through his eyes was when you offered to look after her.
truth be told, rick didn’t quite know what to make of you. you were soft without being stupid, sheltered but not maddeningly clueless, and your eagerness to listen to him when everyone else dismissed him as paranoid endeared you to him in a way no one else in Alexandria quite managed. when you offered to look after judith, the last thing he thought was that you’d become a distraction. you were pretty, sure, but you were young enough to be his daughter, and if there was one thing rick grimes wasn’t, it was cliché.
but goddamn did you make it hard. his life in the new world had been characterized by leaving absolutely no room for error, every potential outcome identified and accounted for. yet in his brief respite from having to care for his daughter entirely by himself, he failed to consider that you wouldn’t just be a hot flash of want that pulsed through his veins whenever he happened to run into you, you’d be in his home. he was a stronger man than most, but he was still a man, and being in such close proximity to that kind of temptation was enough to drive anyone crazy.
every time he walked through the door it was something new. sitting on the floor with your hands outstretched, beckoning judith to crawl towards you, oblivious to your skirt riding up your parted thighs. bending over the cradle to kiss her good night, while the cotton of your already short dress just barely covered your ass.
you may not have been completely clueless about the dangers outside the walls, but you were downright brainless when it came to the effect you had on him, and it was that very lack of awareness that had him fucking his fist in the shower, coming with a groan to the thought of those pretty, naive eyes looking up at him as he split you open. it wasn’t enough, like putting a bandaid over a cut that sliced to the bone, but it was a safety valve, it kept him from doing something stupid.
today shouldn’t have been any different from the routine he had established. he got home as dusk started to settle, having made an extra effort to see judith before she went to bed. he tried to leave the frustrations of today at the door, determined to be a good father, to exact control over the flaming emotions that licked up his chest, stopping the spread before he became engulfed.
as soon as he hears your voice, with its lilting quality as you respond to judith’s babbling, the hard lines that have taken up a virtually permanent residence on his forehead soften. he walks across the threshold, into the living room where you’re sprawled across the couch, judith sitting on your lap. you get up, and he has a blissful few seconds to admire the dress you’re wearing, a little white dress with embroidered flowers better suited for frolicking in a garden than waiting out the end of the world, before you open your mouth to greet him.
“look who’s here judith! daddy’s here!”
fuck.
he knows you didn’t mean it like that, and a better man wouldn’t have thought anything of it. a clearly innocent comment shouldn’t have the blood draining from his head and rushing towards his dick, but the way that word rolls off your tongue is downright sinful. his face is an impenetrable mask of cordiality, concealing his desire as he answers.
“how’re my girls?”
it’s more forward than he’d be under any other circumstances, but he can’t help it, he needs to see if his words affect you the way yours do him. sure enough, a rosy blush blossoms across your cheeks as you hand Judith to him. the words rattle around your head, and you make a mental note to remember it for later, when you’re alone and twilight has fallen, so you can replay it in earnest.
“she’s been wonderful, we had so much fun today, didn’t we Judith?”
you go on, filling him in with details about the day, your voice becoming a pleasant hum that barely filters through, he’s too busy looking at you. all soft curves to his taut muscles, hands that’ve never seen a day of hard work. fragile things like you normally fill him with a vague sense of irritation, if not downright disgust, but with you it’s different, the overwhelming need to lay claim to the last bit of silken sweetness in this apocalyptic wasteland threatening to undo him.
dimly, he becomes aware that you’re asking if he wants to put Judith to bed tonight, and a dull panic sets in. you can’t leave, not yet, not until he’s gotten to feel you.
“i’d like to see how you do it. for future reference” he says, his voice cool and glacial, completely devoid of the growing desperation blooming in his abdomen.
you nod, secretly proud at the prospect of teaching him something. he’s so worldly, so knowledgeable in things you hadn’t even conceived, and the idea of him wanting to learn from you about anything makes you feel mature, no longer a lovesick puppy yapping at his heels.
you three go to judith’s nursery, and when he passes her to you, you begin to show him the routine you’ve established. it’s quick, nothing flashy, just getting her changed into her pjs, singing a quick song, and stroking her hair until she falls asleep. mercifully, she’s out like a light, and the two of you creep out of her room, careful not to disturb her. when you get into the hall, you avoid his eyes, unsure of what to do now. you see him so rarely, and without the buffer of Judith, you feel small again, all that newfound maturity fleeting, like it was never there.
rick has to suppress a smirk at your shyness, and after a beat of silence, he’s unable to resist making an offer.
“you want a drink?”
you look up at him, trying in vain to hide your excitement.
“sure.”
one drink follows another, though you never quite manage to get rid of the grimace that accompanies each swig. its endearing, he knows you’re only drinking this shitty beer because he offered it, trying to convince him that you can handle yourself. you’re sitting together on the couch, and the once respectable distance between the two of you has shrunk down considerably, your knee against his as you go on and on, talking about anything that catches your fancy. to his credit, he doesn’t seem to mind, nodding and trying to focus on your words rather than how soft and warm your thigh feels pressed against his.
“i know the whole library idea seem… frivolous, but you should come by sometime. i can recommend you something good.”
he smirks, his voice coming out low and measured.
“never said that darlin. i just don’t have a whole lot of time for reading.”
you shake your head, your voice earnest in a way that would leave you mortified if you were sober, trying to ignore the pang of need in your cunt at the pet name.
“bullshit. you’ve probably just… never read a good book. with the way the world is… who doesn’t need escapism sometimes?”
he nods, clearly humoring you. it’s nice to see you passionate about something, even if he shares absolutely no interest in it. he notices how you shift next to him, your thighs pressing together at the pet name, and makes sure to take note of it.
“amen to that.” he says, taking another swig from the bottle you’ve been sharing.
when he looks back at you, you have a dreamy, far away look in your eyes. he raises an eyebrow at you, his voice coming out teasing.
“have i got something on my face?”
you shake your head earnestly, your voice coming out achingly sincere.
“you have really nice eyes.”
he scoffs, amused by the observation. it’s something you’d normally be too scared to say to him, but the beer has clearly loosened your inhibitions, and goddamn if he doesn’t love it.
when you lean towards him, your lips meeting his softly, all unsure and sweet, it’s all he can do to not groan. this is wrong, you’re young enough to be his daughter, he should be the adult here, put a stop to this and gently tell you that you deserve better than him.
instead, he finds himself kissing you back, all those good, proper sentiments dying in his throat as he pulls you into his lap, his mouth never leaving yours. his hands are all over you, exploring every inch of the soft, supple flesh he’s been craving for god knows how long. you’re trying to keep up, your mouth clumsy and shy against his, but he’s relentless, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he kneads the plush of your ass through your white lace panties.
your dress is riding up your thighs, and it’s all he can do to not tear it off you. he knows he needs to be gentle, he gets the sense that you haven’t got much experience in this arena, even though his more primal instinct is to push you against the wall and fuck you till you see black. instead, his hands creep up your thighs, until he’s cupping your clothed cunt, your panties already dewy with arousal.
“fuck baby, all this for me?” he asks, his voice teasing as he marvels at how easily aroused you are. all this from a few kisses, it’s really just too easy.
you let out a keening whine, your hips instinctively rocking your cunt against his hand, desperate for any amount of friction. you nod desperately, too dumbstruck for words.
he chuckles, slowly starting to rub you through your underwear.
“use your words, pretty girl.” he says, his voice half joking, but with an undercurrent of seriousness, a warning that he’ll stop if you don’t comply.
your eyes flutter shut, the puffy sleeves of your dress falling down your shoulders as your hands go to grip his big arms.
“all.. for… you” you pant, your cheeks burning red.
it’s embarrassing really, how soaked your panties are. it makes you feel like a slut, but you know you wouldn’t get this way for just anyone. you couldn’t imagine being this easy for someone else, and if you were more clear headed you’d try to tell him, but all you can do is mewl pathetically, frustrated by how the lace of your panties dilutes the feeling of his fingers on you.
he chuckles, reading you like a book. he moves the lace aside, dipping his index finger into your aching cunt, biting back a groan when you gasp.
“that feel good, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
you let out a whiny mhmmm, and he allows it, pumping steadily while the rough pad of his thumb rubs circles onto your clit. when he curls his thick finger inside you, you swear you see stars, and your nails dig into the weathered muscles of his arms.
“oh fuck, daddy” you mumble, too far gone to notice or care that you slipped up, oblivious to how his eyes light up at your words.
“poor thing… those little fingers just don’t do it for you, do they? can’t reach that far, isn’t that right?” he says, condescension dripping from his voice.
you nod furiously, your hips bucking into his touch as your head lolls for, letting him pull you closer into his arms as you whimper out a response.
“s-so close daddy”
he coos at you, that sweet desperation making him throb in his jeans. normally he’d make you work for it, make you respond to all his questions to build good habits (because there would be a next time), but he figures he’ll go easy on you just this once, especially when you plead so pretty.
“go on baby. make a mess f’me.” he says encouragingly, and that’s all it takes for you to come, burying your forehead into his chest as you ride out your high.
when you go limp, he starts stroking your hair, maneuvering your head so you’re facing him. he kisses you again, and it takes a moment before you kiss him back, your brain still partially fogged over from pleasure.
“you act like no one’s ever made you cum before” he says teasingly, and when your face flushes it just confirms what he already thought: you’re a virgin.
you avoid his eyes, your voice coming out all shy and flustered.
“i don’t really have much experience… is that a problem?”
he has to resist the urge to scoff, because no, that is absolutely not a problem. if anything, it makes him want you more. but he doesn’t want to scare you, so he just tilts your chin up so you’re looking at him, his hand cupping your cheek.
“it’s not a problem at all, honey. just wanna make sure you’re okay with all this.”
it takes all his self restraint to ask you that, because his jeans feel far too tight and all he wants to do is bury himself inside you before he preemptively blows his load, but he knows he needs to make sure you’re ready, that you want this too. despite everything, he’s still trying to be a good man.
you look up at him, and you nod, your pupils all blown out and hazy.
“ ‘m sure.” you say softly, before reaching up to kiss him.
he savors the kiss, giving you a moment before he stands up. you let out a small squeak, your thighs immediately going to wrap around his waist, looking at him in confusion.
“what, did you think i was gonna take your virginity on the damn couch? i’m not a goddamn animal” he grumbles, looking at you with fond irritation as you giggle.
he presses his lips to yours to keep you quiet, sloppily making out with you as he makes his way to the bedroom. when he gets inside, he lays you down on the bed gently, his mouth never leaving yours.
he gets you undressed in no time, not giving you a hard time about the fact that your white lace panties and bra are matching (almost like you were asking for it), and when your unsteady hands finally finish fumbling with his belt you get to see his cock for the first time. and fuck is he huge.
he looms over you, his arms caging you in as he presses warm kisses to your neck, trying to ease your worry. when he pushes in, he goes all the way, burying himself to the hilt. your eyes roll back in your head, letting out a soft cry as you snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as he lets you adjust.
when he starts to move, he sets a slow, steady pace, and the ache gives way to newfound pleasure, your eyes screwing shut as he goes deeper than you knew was previously possible.
“fuck baby. you’re so fucking tight.” he mumbles, sucking a bruise onto your neck as you let out a moan.
when he’s sure you’re not gonna break, he starts to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and more pointed, earning whimpers and moans that seem to come from deep in your gut. tears start to fall down your cheeks, not from pain but from a combination of pleasure and being so overwhelmed.
“you cry so pretty, baby.” he says, angling his thrusts to hit that spongy spot inside your walls.
your face scrunches up as you get that newly familiar coiling feeling in your stomach, and you blearily open your eyes to look up at him, your bottom lip quivering.
“daddy… can i cum, please?” you whimper brokenly, and if he wasn’t almost there already, that definitely pushed him.
“such a sweet thing, asking permission on her first time. you can come baby, go on” he responds, his firm grip on your hips teetering dangerously close to bruising.
when you come, he can feel you pulsating around him, squeezing him like a goddamn vice, trying to milk him for all he’s got. it only takes a few more sloppy thrusts for him to join you, coming in you with a groan.
once you both came down from your highs, you turned to him, your body exhausted and spent. you weren’t exactly sure what he expected of you, you’d never hooked up with your employer before and all conventions about appropriateness were completely out the window when you had his spend dripping down your thighs.
“can i stay the night?” you ask quietly, your cheeks red with embarrassment.
to your relief, he just chuckles and pulls you closer, your head resting on his chest as he wraps an arm around you.
“sweet girl, i’d be a right asshole if i sent you home like this.”
you smile, quickly falling asleep in his arms. and for what feels like the first time in months, rick finds himself dozing off without much of a fight too.
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dyaz-stories · 11 months ago
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hands shaking from holding back from you || Hyun-Su x f!reader
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summary: Spring is here, and Hyun-Su offers to take you out on a date, which soon leads to more between the two of you
word count: 3.5k
warnings & tags: some fluff, angst because it's sweet home, kissing, heavy make-out session, gets pretty suggestive but never explicit, monster!hyun-su makes an appearance, the pronoun 'her' is used once in reference to the reader
first one-shot · previous one-shot
A/N: to give a little context, reader and Hyun-Su were in high school together, reader was only there for a year before going to another high school, and therefore has no knowledge of the bullying which hyun-su was a victim of. this one-shot can be read independently (there's nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts), but I do recommend reading them for context.
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There is something strange about spring returning in a forever changed world. It had been so fitting, the apocalypse starting with winter, when everything was dead and desolate. Now, nature is starting to bloom again. The streets should be filled with noise and people, and you should be studying for your exams. Instead, you’re rationing your food, and you haven’t been outside in forever — you don’t need to, now that you have a knight in his torn hoodie to make sure you have everything you need.
Hyun-Su truly is the silver lining in the situation. The only good thing in the world as it is. He’s been more confident around you lately, more at ease. Still, it surprises you when he comes by on a sunny afternoon, and offers, with this soft, cautious voice of his:
“Do you want to go out today?”
 You’re putting away some fresh fruits he picked for you, and you turn around in confusion.
“What do you mean, out?”
‘Outside’ is dangerous. ‘Outside’ is a place you only go when you’re desperate, and you plan as efficiently as possible, to ensure you spend the least amount of time there. ‘Outside’, everything is a threat, and you can only breathe when you’re back at the house.
‘Outside’ regularly takes Hyun-Su from you.
Sure, he’s around a lot more, these days, but he still has to leave every now and then. You’ve come to understand that you’re not the only one who relies on him, but he hasn’t provided an explanation, and you haven’t pried. It burns a little every time he leaves, and yet…
And yet, the fear that he wouldn’t answer if you asked is worse. The fear that he might not come back if you didn’t let it rest. The fear that if he had to choose, he wouldn’t choose you.
“It’s nice out,” he answers, and you notice him retreating even as he’s still speaking. “But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to—”
“No, I’d love to,” you cut him off before he can doubt himself further. “I just— Wouldn’t that be— dangerous?”
“Oh.” He smiles, and it’s mesmerizing. It’s not the bright, joyful smile you were used to seeing, back in high school, but being more subdued doesn’t make it any less genuine. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
There’s no cockiness in his voice, just confidence.
“Then… Sure. I’d love to go out with you.” And you’re not usually the type to say that, because you don’t have the guts for it, but you feel comfortable enough with Hyun-Su to lean towards him with a playful smile. “It’s a date then?”
He lets out a brief, surprised laugh, then glances down at his feet while his cheeks and ears turn red.
“Sure. It’s a date.”
Even if you were the instigator, you still feel your face burn at how soft his eyes are when he looks back at you.
He looks at you like you’re one of the seven wonders.
You see him lick his lips as his eyes fall on yours. You could always take the step to fill the distance between the two of you, but Hyun-Su rarely initiates, so you want to give him the chance to do so. When he does, it’s always so soft and so careful, like he’s afraid of breaking you. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, looks away again — and it’s alright. You won’t rush him.
“I’ll go get ready,” you hum, stepping out of the room.
You miss the way Hyun-Su follows you with adoring eyes.
When you emerge back from your room, Hyun-Su is waiting for you, and you follow him, heart rate spiking when you go through the door. Being outside again, without the need to go get some specific and vital item, is— strange. Your eyes dart around you, constantly taking in your surroundings. There are surprisingly few monsters, compared to the chaos that was early winter. In front of you, Hyun-Su walks casually, seemingly without paying much attention to what is happening around him. You trust him, you really do, but there’s you still find it unnerving about that.
When you jump at some faraway sound, that turns out to be just birds flying away, scared by your approach, he offers you his hand, an amused smile on his lips. He might even suppress a laugh, but you can’t tell for sure.
“Is that okay?” he asks you softly as he closes his fingers around yours.
He treats you like you’re made of porcelain.
“It’s much better,” you reply with a smile, even if you feel a little sheepish.
For a second, he stares into your eyes, before he looks away and lets out a deep, long exhale. You don’t question him, just give his hand a squeeze, hoping it comes off as a silent reassurance.
He squeezes back, then pulls you with him as you keep going through the city.
“Is there— Is there nothing here anymore?” you ask. It feels like you should have seen a monster by now.
“They’re here,” Hyun-Su replies casually, like monsters aren’t a death promise. “They just know better than to approach.”
You swallow. You understand what he doesn’t say — they know better than to approach him — but it’s not that much of a reassurance, for you. You quicken your pace to stay closer to him. It says a lot about how far he’s come that he doesn’t jump when your shoulder brushes against his.
“They’re not all dangerous,” he says. You know he intends for it to be reassuring, but all you can do is grimace in response.
“They might not be,” you answer — you remember a flash of wings as an unseen monster ripped the snake-like creature that was trying to enter your home —, “but it’s not like I have a way of knowing which ones are safe and which ones aren’t.”
There’s a long silence as Hyun-Su keeps walking.
“But isn’t that true of humans, too?” he asks you in the end. He sounds so— sad, and yet you don’t know what to tell him to make it better. He’s not like them, you want to assure him. You’d never conflate him with the ones that tried to murder you — but it’s not like you can forget about them altogether either. Being wrong about trusting a monster, being wounded once could sign your end.
“It is,” you reply slowly. It’s especially true in this new world, where humans have dropped all their inhibitions. “I guess it’s just— Humans have been less of danger to me, you know?” A brief laugh. “But it’s not like I’m running after them either, right? I haven’t stepped foot near the shelter.”
Your dad didn’t trust the military, and you’re distrustful of authority. There might be strength in numbers, but you wouldn’t feel safe being surrounded by men with machine guns while you have nothing.
Hyun-Su hums at your answer. It does seem to have brought him some comfort, and yet you feel the need not to leave it at that.
“You know I trust you, right?” He freezes and turns to look at you. “Both sides,” you insist. “I know you’re safe.”
His lips part as if to say something, before he closes them again and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. Finally, he nods.
“I feel safe with you, too,” he says. The sentence catches you by surprise, almost makes you want to laugh, because— who in their right mind would think you’re a threat? But Hyun-Su says it with such gravitas that you can only assume that there’s something that you don’t know about under there. Truth be told, there’s a lot you haven’t talked about with him. He’s not talkative, not anymore at least, and it’s hard to know which questions you can ask before reaching a painful subject. And there are countless of these, for everyone, since the Apocalypse hit. “Come on,” he adds after a few seconds. “We’re almost there.”
He pulls you towards a half-broken down outside staircase. You can’t make your way up on your own, so he grabs you by the hips to help you up, and you let out a surprised yelp when strong hands pull you close to him, his chest against your back, to lift you up. Immediately, his body tenses up and he stills, which means you’re all too aware of how close he is now, of his breath on your neck and his body against yours.
“Sorry,” he says. “Is that okay?”
Gosh, he’s sweet to ask, but you’re really happy he cannot see your expression right now.
“It’s fine,” you squeak, “just caught me off guard. Don’t worry about it.”
He seems to hesitate for a second, and oh, you’re so aware of his fingers on your hips, before he lifts you up as if you weighed nothing, first on his shoulder, then easily higher, so you can grab the bottom of the staircase.
“All good?” he asks once you’re up there.
“All good! Do you need—”
But he’s made his way up before you can finish your sentence, and you blink. Right. Some people are athletic.
“Go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the stairs. “I’ll catch you if anything goes wrong.”
It shouldn’t feel reassuring, should make you think that you’re at risk, but you meant it when you said you trusted him. Knowing he’s there to watch over you… It’s like having your own personal guardian angel.
There are no issues, however, and you soon arrive on the rooftop — which takes your breath away. This had to have belonged to someone with money, because there is a whole garden there. Overgrown grass, flowers, and even a few trees. Birds are chirping, and it feels… Well, it feels like the kind of places you’d go to laze around on a sunny afternoon with your friends, like an actual park. Being secluded and high up, it is however much safer than any park you could actually go to now. When you turn around, you’re met with an impressive view of the city. It looks peaceful from up here, just a quiet spring day.
Then you notice that Hyun-Su is staring at you, and what you see takes your breath away. He’s smiling. Actually smiling. Wide and bright.
You’re quick to look away, embarrassed by the emotions you’re sure are obvious on your face. Tilting your head up, you let yourself receive the sun.
It’s been a long time since you’ve been this happy.
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Hyun-Su often feels that, when he’s with you, all he can do is stare. He likes watching you when you’re at home, going about your day in the house, or sitting by a window and reading. It makes him feel so— welcome, knowing that he can just be there, with you, and that you’ll never mind his presence, never ask him to leave.
Never ignore him and pretend he doesn’t exist.
It makes him feel like he belongs, being around you, makes him feel at peace.
Or, at least, it did, because the emotions swirling under his skin right now are much more complex than they used to be.
He met you, or met you again, in the winter, when you were bundled up under coats and scarves and layers upon layers of clothes. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the change in your wardrobe lately.
It makes sense, of course. Days are getting warmer. Not only is there no need for you to keep wearing pullovers and disappear into huge coats. But the way your clothes are hugging your body these days, how they accentuate your curves, how your t-shirt rides up to reveal the skin of your stomach…
He can’t say that it makes it more difficult to be around you, because he doesn’t think that anything could do that. You make him feel like he can breathe again, like he’s finally coming up to the surface after spending ages lost in dark waters, not knowing which way was up and which way was down. It’s just that it— takes a lot of place in his mind.
He can already barely stop thinking about you as it is, knows that the Kid and Yi-Kyung have noticed already how his mind always seems to wander away from them. This, though, this is a whole other can of worms. Because he doesn’t know how to act about it. Doesn’t know how you’d feel if you knew. Doesn’t know if you’d look at him with pity, if you’d tell him you never want to see him again, if it would disgust you.
Yet, no matter how much he tries to stop himself, he always comes back to staring. You tilt your head up towards the sky, close your eyes.
You’re beautiful.
If he was another man, he’d walk up to you to wrap his arms around you, he’d whisper something in your ear, he’d kiss you.
Just as the thought crosses his mind, his leg twitches. It takes him a second to understand that it’s not just an involuntary muscle reaction. Inside him, the monster is swelling, clawing its way up towards the surface.
If you don’t do something about this, I will, it whispers inside him. And let’s be honest, maybe that would be for the best, because what could you do? At least I wouldn’t be afraid to touch her.
Hyun-Su tries his best to force it back down, to ignore the sting of the words, but the monster refuses to let up. Finally, he takes a step in your direction, then another. The closer he is to you, the less the monster puts up a fight — but it still refuses to go down completely.
You turn to look at him when he reaches you, tilting your head in quiet questioning.
Hyun-Su feels himself lifting his hand to touch your cheek, and it’s so spontaneous, so natural that he can’t really say who’s in control there. Your skin is soft under his, and as he leans in to kiss you, he cannot forget how fragile you are compared to him. How one wrong surge from the creature he harbors inside himself could end it all, how careful he needs to be.
And, when his lips brush against yours and you kiss him back without hesitation, he’s reminded of how you either don’t know that or don’t care.
There must be something in the air, because without thinking, his hand comes to your waist, then the small of your back, pulling you close to him. Again, he can’t tell if it’s the monster making its own decision, or if it’s just natural and he’s just doing what he truly wants to do. Both thoughts are worrying.
But you’re not aware of all the questions going on his mind, and all you do is tilt your head up to give him better access to your mouth — and it makes his pulse rush and his mind goes haywire.
Normally, he’d know better. Right now, he feels your hands, trapped against his chest, gripping his hoodie and pulling him down towards you, just a little closer, because there isn’t much space left between the two of you anyway.
He tilts you back now, still without thinking — there isn’t enough space for that in his mind at this moment, not when it’s so filled with you you you — hands firmly holding you against him. His tongue pushes against your lips, and you part them almost immediately, welcoming him in your mouth. His blood is pumping, his whole body feels scorching hot, and you’re right there, running your fingers along his jaw and over his neck, leaving burning trails everywhere you touch.
His tongue intertwines with yours and he feels, more than he hears, you whimper into him.
Immediately, a sense of urgency forces him to pull back. One second, he’s pressed against yours, the next, he’s taken two steps back, and your eyes open in confusion.
“Are you okay?’ he asks, searching for a way he’s hurt you, anything indicating that something’s wrong. But all he finds is swollen lips that you press together as you glance away from him.
“Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” you mumble, and it takes an embarrassingly long time for him to understand what kind of noise that was.
Oh.
Oh.
He’s immediately desperate to hear it again.
He brings you back against him to kiss you once more, and there it is, coming from the back of your throat.
He’s not sure what happens, who initiates what, if he’s in control at all, but soon he knows that your back is against the grass, and he’s above you, kissing you just as fiercely. Your hands are wandering now — his shoulders, first, then his arms, then tracing the muscles of his chest and down to his abs. He wants to respond in kind, wants so badly to feel you, but the second he moves his hands, fear assaults him again.
“Is that—” He breaks the kiss to look at you in worry. “Is that okay?”
He illustrates the question with the softest of touch on your skin. You let out a brief laugh — not a mocking one, though.
“You really don’t have to keep asking that,” you say, and your eyes are adoring. Then, when he stays still, you push yourself on your elbows to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. Then his jaw. Then his neck.
Hyun-Su can only stay there, frozen in bliss, as you pepper his skin with kisses. Finally, as you’re reaching his collarbone, you take his hand in yours to bring it back on your body, and then you lie back down, allowing him to take the lead now.
His hand is shaking as he slides it under your t-shirt, all of his senses overwhelmed with need. He wants you so bad, he has a hard time understanding it. Kissing you is familiar. The way your body arches against yours, pushing into his touch— isn’t. His immediate want for more, more of the sounds you make, more of your body, more of you, that is all new, too.
He feels feverish as he mirrors your previous actions, kissing down your neck and lingering in one spot when he discovers it makes you whimper. Now that you’re not muffled with his mouth, your sounds echo louder, and they’re music to his ears, in a way that fuels the fire you’ve lit inside him. His hips press down into you, and a jolt of pleasure jolts through him, which when he realizes that he’s—
He tears himself away from you for the second time, stumbling back to end up just a couple meters away from you.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, “sorry about that.”
You sit up, looking a little confused.
“Are you okay?” you ask softly.
It’s his line, and it takes him a while to piece together what you could mean by that. It’s not like there’s any way for you to hurt him. If anything, you should be disgusted by him. There’s no way you didn’t feel him, which means you know he’s hard. But you’re just looking at him in concern.
“Sorry,” he repeats. “I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t have—”
“Hyun-Su,” you call gently as you scoot over towards him. “It’s all good. I didn’t— um— I didn’t mind. But we— we can stop here for now, if you’d rather.”
Inside him, the monster protests vaguely, but this time Hyun-Su has no issue sending it back to the abyss it came from. He’s overwhelmed, heart beating erratically, and he doesn’t know what would happen if things kept going. He wasn’t in control, not really, and he— he can’t risk it. Not with you.
“Sorry,” he repeats, feeling miserable.
Slowly, you put your arms around him. There’s nothing suggestive about it. You’re just doing your best to bring him comfort.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. Your fingers run gently through his hair in appeasing motions. He rests his head against your shoulder.
He’s not alone.
You’re just there, talking to him, touching him, right against him. You’re not doing anything to move away, not looking at him like he’s some mistake, and it feels like his heart is trying to jump out of his chest.
“Thank you,” he mumbles.
Your fingers still for a moment, before you go back to your ministrations.
“For what?”
And, God, the fact that you don’t even know, that you don’t even realize everything you’re doing, everything you’ve done for him since that first day when you spotted him in the street and ran after him…
He draws in a trembling breath.
“Thank you,” he just repeats.
You don’t ask any more questions, just keep gently playing with his hair.
The sky’s blue, the birds are singing, the town is quiet. It’s just you and him, sitting in the grass, on the rooftop.
If someone were to miraculously pass by and see the two of you there, they’d probably think that you were, indeed, on a date.
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okay, I hope you're enjoying this little series! I'm not sure what I'll work on next. i know i'm eventually going to write smut for them, though it's going to be very soft because... well it has to be between them lol. someone has also said they wanted to see them tackle the world together a bit more, so I'm also thinking about writing a one-shot where they meet ha-ni and ho-sang, because i thought that ho-sang's intense dislike for hyun-su could imply they've met before. anyway, yeah, i have a couple different ideas.
i would really appreciate it if you left a comment, whether here, in the tags or in a reblog, and tell me anything you're liking in this series! interactions really motivate me and keep me writing :)
next one-shot
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kathaynesart · 5 months ago
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*after reading the latest update*
Wait...he can make the equivalent of an atomic bomb but he can't make himself a vape?
...
That is the most Donnie thing I've ever seen.
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Hahah sorry, a friend of mine gave that reason and it cracked me up!
Honestly though, your question is a very good one that needs addressing! The thing is, I strongly believe that there should still be limits to the turtle's ninpo abilities, as powerful as they are. Leo for example, requires some sort of metal to siphon his portals into existence.
While Donnie could indeed create a vape he would not know how to create the nicotine compound you place within it. Thus rendering the tool useless. If he could then there would be nothing stopping him from simply creating food, water, coffee and all the essentials needed to live well in the apocalypse. His focus has always been on energy and metal/plastic compounds. Now theoretically if he had spent all those years of training to learn and understand certain complex organic compounds to their very atomic core then PERHAPS he could have learned how to make such things. But that would be a completely different universe in which his weapons and bombs were not needed.
...Also he didn't start smoking until after the fall of the Central Park Colony where he loses his Ninpo, but that's beside the point haha. Hope that clears some thing up!
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vesperaink · 4 months ago
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Friends, my necromancer!Tango/grimreaper!Jimmy, Team Rancher modern with magic apocalypse AU, Graveyard Shift, for @mcytblraufest's Reverse Big Bang is here!
But wait there's more--go read chasing crimson written by @aliferous-ly, beta'd by @dibs2win, my fantastic team for aufest. If you love enemies to lovers, unlikely partnerships, and the power of soul-bound magic weapon contracts, this hilarious + dramatic 22.9k fic kicks off from this comic!
chasing crimson
Jimmy Solidarity works for the esteemed god of Death, reaping lost souls and taking care of unsavory characters. He's recently finished his training, and is determined to do well on his first solo mission. Perhaps this "Tango" would be a good start. Only, the god of Death disappeared years ago, and Necromancer Tango Tek's long since discovered a way around dying. He can't say he enjoys Jimmy swinging through and killing him where he stands, though.
Thank you to my team for being as feral about this AU as I am, and kicking everything about it up to 110. I had so much developing this world with them!
Thanks to @onawhimsicot for helping me with the comic's dialogue, fixing my composition woes with "just add more smoke," and encouraging me to complete it in full color! Check out Cadence's aufest fic, I take it back (ill follow till I fly or till im dead), a Cult of the Lamb AU about follower!Tango and Lamb!Zedaph, the meaning of devotion, silly experiments, eldritch transformations, and...the most platonic slowburn ever?
Lastly, thank you to the aufest team for another wonderful event! I had a blast again, and was giggling kicking my feet at everyone's reactions during claims, I loved every single one of them. Graveyard Shift is definitely an AU I'm coming back to. As always, my askbox is open if you'd like to chat, and I'd love to be tagged if anyone makes anything <3
Timelapse / AU art chatter under the cut!
While Graveyard Shift is the amalgamation of many of my interests, the main premise for this AU is loosely inspired by the webcomic, I'm the Grim Reaper, in both its apocalypse themes and its aesthetics! Not a required read, but highly recommend if you enjoy this au, as well as the anime and manga, Soul Eater!
I came up with a lot of AUs for this event but necromancer!Tango and reaper!Jimmy have been rattling around in my brain in separate AUs since before I started brainstorming for aufest. So I smashed them together, naturally.
(Unfortunately I didn't record all of my process, but most of it is here! CW for flashing; song is Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier)
youtube
I could go on forever about concept art and character design if anyone's curious but here's some fun bonus details about this comic:
Originally, Tango's outfit was going to be more like his Dungeon Master outfit but I wanted the setting to be more modern and Jimmy stole the fantasy cloak vibe from him already lol
Jimmy's entrance of lightning is my nod to the Life Series final death sound
The scarf Jimmy's wearing is designed to be a boneyard shawl
The panel of strange text reads "Protection Three" in Galactic :)
+ The name "Graveyard Shift" was thrown at me by Cadence in like 3 seconds flat after i spent 2 days agonizing over a name for this au LOL
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stringsbasement · 4 months ago
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Your art of peri and your Villain AU of him? perfection. I read your twt thread and I'm greedy for more, im so serious like If there was a 100k word fanfic of your au I would read it in a heartbeat!! THATS how much im obsessed with the concept
thank you so much! i didn't expect there to be so much interest in my thoughtless doodles and rambles. luckily, i already have a draft for a rant i formulated about this version of peri's possible motivations, and now i have an excuse to share it!!
also, as a bonus, have this silly doodle :)
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[his hairstyle is his attempt to separate himself from his parents, but no matter what he does with it, he can never get it to sit without that stray tuft and curl at the very end.
also, his bowtie is in reference to chloe and my initial art of irep before his design was revealed. the latter almost makes it seem like they "swapped roles."]
the thing is, it's hard to imagine peri as someone purposefully wanting to harm others for his own pleasure. for a "bad" au of peri to occur, he'd have to take after timmy, and seek chaos the same way he did
now, timmy is a good person at heart. his fairies love him, and he loved them in turn. that's undeniable. however, timmy was so stressful he affected cosmo and wandas marriage, and they had to retire right after him to rekindle their love and stop being so awful towards each other. timmy was simultaneously one of the best and worst things to ever happen to them
so it's not that much of a stretch to think he'd affected peri during his development, to the point he unknowingly influenced peri's core beliefs, which he'll carry over later in life
timmy used his fairies to escape from his regular life. he was incredibly reckless, and shirked responsibilities till the consequences got him back tenfold. a dangerous, but fulfilling way of living. he might've mellowed out in the later years, but considering he chose to keep vicky around to purposefully make himself miserable and keep his fairies instead of facing reality, maturity wouldn't be a straight or easy path
peri, adopting this way of thinking, believes the best way to live life is taking risks. ignoring your present problems in favor of escapism. he would insist this upon his godchild, and be blind to the complex nuance of dev's situation
dev's parental neglect differs from timmy's, and thus requires different treatment. but peri doesn't realize that, and dev is a child who cannot comprehend how awful he really has it, let alone communicate it in a way that isn't just lashing out and throwing tantrums
for classic peri, this is an annoyance. for this peri though? he'll enable it, because he thinks dev needs to get it out of his system. like timmy. which is in some way correct, but it's a flawed, only temporary solution
and it's in this way a path of deeper exploration opens up about characters similar to cookie, highlighting how flawed the godparent system can be when a child is assigned a godparent who cannot fulfill what they truly need
starting a ghost apocalypse is nothing compared to the wishes that has been granted before. and, honestly, dev taking viozalia's staff to use against her is a clever move. this peri wouldn't be downtrodden like he was in the original scene, but impressed. he would say as such, and dev, being the emotionally starved 10 year old he is, will soak those words up like a dry sponge
(slightly off topic: i like to think a little quirk this peri would have is, instead of looking to da book of rules for guidance, (cosmo, wanda, and his classic self do this multiple times in the show when in unique situations,) he'd be searching for anything that states what can't he do. "what to do when your god kid tries to start a ghost apocalypse... nothing? sweet!")
this would naturally allow him and dev to bond a little more. even if it's just shit talking other people and how they're totally better than everyone else
it doesn't mean they get along splendidly. dev is still pissed that he can't make the wishes he wants, and peri overcompensates by allowing him to throw himself into situations that just narrowly avoids sanction. because, oh yeah, peri would not appreciate being forced to follow the rules which includes wiping the godchild's memories after the godparent's term has passed
(if anything, he'll find a loophole out of it. he learned from the best, after all)
this is also where peri's spoiled nature would shine through. being offered everything just because he was a baby would make anyone entitled
he and dev are too similar for their own good. they have have access to anything they could ask for, but are unable to get love from one person they want it from. it's almost pitiful
to keep those thoughts out of dev's (and his own) mind, peri resorts to pushing dev out of his comfort zone, which would ordinarily be a good thing, only, he goes way too far to the point of regression
you know, it really doesn't help that dev looks a lot like timmy. i mean, look at them...
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that's timmy with slicked back hair and a white jacket. c'mon
but even with all of this, peri doesn't really become a villain. he's antagonistic at most, with his strained relationship with his parents and his help in making things harder for hazel. luckily, the latest episode has given me a few ideas
when peri inevitably comes to care for dev, he'll obviously has to do something about his constant unhappiness. dev has a point in complaining about the fact hazel has two godparents and he only has one, even when his life is "worse" (another unhealthy way of thinking,)
hmmmm. so how can dev have two fairy godparents, and how can peri break da rules without putting himself at risk?
who other than a mirror of peri's own self?
a shift inevitably took place, one where peri became more intense and irep more soft. it's so subtle it goes unnoticed until thousands of years have passed
irep has become timid, soft, and well-meaning. if peri either quits his position or gives way for another slot and puts dev under a sort of split-custody, dev will be able to use anti-fairy magic, which can completely bypass any of the rules regular fairy magic is withholden to
irep will get what he wants as well. in this post, i answered an ask in which i speculate that irep genuinely does want a godchild, and the love and appreciation that comes with it. that much would stay the same for this au
and, well, unlike irep, peri has always been willing to share
this would make way for a bunch of whacky hijinks, potential plots, and new threats. consequences piling up until they become too huge to ignore. not to mention the full implications of a fairy and anti-fairy switching roles. of course, this is just a fun idea i came up with on the spot, and i haven't thought it out too much, so pointing out any plot holes that would come from this is appreciated!
i have more to say, mainly about peri and his parents' initial separation, as well as the parallels that can be found with this version of peri and hazel, but i feel it would be best to end it here :)
thank you for making me write all of this!
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inbrightshadows · 1 year ago
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*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock* Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺 (Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic) [warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]
The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.
Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal. They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.
Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.” And that's that.
Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.
Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.
Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.
And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.
Then there's Leo.
In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.
Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.
He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.
And then Casey Jr gets sick.
It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do. Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse. And babies are delicate.
It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire. They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.
There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby. Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.
Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’
Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.
It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.
But bad luck is bad luck.
Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.
“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.
Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.  
The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.  
The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.
Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.
And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.
So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.
When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.
“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.
“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies. “Let me heal them-” “No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.” “Leo!” “I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!” Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-” “I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.
Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help  Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.
Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.
That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite. It's bad.
The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.
He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.
He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.
His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.
All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.
On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.
“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.” Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.” “I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder. “I think your spine disagrees with you too.” “Shut up!” “Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?” 
Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.
Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.
It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.
There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.
To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.
The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.
He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.
Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.
“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.” “We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.” Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.
Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky. Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.
Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.
Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.
He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.
“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles. There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent. Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset. “What's the matter?” he tries to ask. “Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?” “Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.
Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little. Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.
“Leo.” “Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.” He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth. “Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!” Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey. “S’okay. We can go back now.” Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.
Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.
He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.
Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.
He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.
Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.
“April?” he might mumble. He thinks. “Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.” Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.
A light in his face. “Am I dying?” he says. Thinks? Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again? “Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.” Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming? “Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.” Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.
Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work. His arm throbs. “Ow.”
Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view. “How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?” “Uh, my arm hurts a little?”
“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?” “Hey I did some medical care!” “You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”
Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one. “Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.” “Well. You didn’t.” “Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”
Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.
“Donnie-” “Don’t look yet.” Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response. No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.
He can feel his shoulder. He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow. And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh. Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out. “...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?” “Leo-” “Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.
For a second Leo doesn’t do anything. He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head. He opens his eyes.
It’s gone.
Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath. Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility.  Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.
“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last. “...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly. Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms. "Good. That's good." Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing. Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.
Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.
The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.
He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.
“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?” Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears. Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply. “Why are you like this?“ he asks. “Because it's all I've got... Left” Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?” “Put him back under,” April says, deadpan. “Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears.   “I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.
“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”
Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him. Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.
There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.
He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.
Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.
Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny. His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.
“Bemused scoff.”
Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.
“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him." Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total. "...I've held him more than you have.”
Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”
“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.
“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.
“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done. “Did you listen to none of what I just said?” “C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.” “Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.” “Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs. “Go back to sleep, Nardo.” “Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles. “I won’t let him fall. Just rest.” And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.
It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.
Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one. He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.
The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.
And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.
Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.
He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.
It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.
“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game,  is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.
“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time. But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.
“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.”  Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.
“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.
“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.
“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!” There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.
Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.
“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body. Leo freezes. “Mikey. Mikey no.”
“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs. “Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right??? “Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!” And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.
Leo shrieks. He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.
“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is- … not falling towards the ground at all actually.
The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in. Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr. The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.
“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!” Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning. “You’re fine, you’ve got this.” “I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him. “It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”
Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.
“Ah- what- what does he want?” “Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”
Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can. Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.” Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.
Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling. Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice. “I hate all of you,” Leo lies. Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply. And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo. He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.
“Oh fuck-” “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!” “Raph. Raph.” “You’re doing fine, relax-”  “He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!” Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.
Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.
“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans. “You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes. “I had mystic hands on him the whole time!” “Baby holding is a two hand activity!” “You literally hold him with one hand!” “Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!” “Oh that is so not fair!” “... Leo watch the little man for a minute.” Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.
Mikey flees with a yelp.    Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him. “So, you come here often?” Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it. Leo grimaces. “Thanks.” In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.
Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions. Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”
And Leo lies.
Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.
“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.  
Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.
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colleendoran · 1 year ago
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Howdy
I'm under the weather right now, sitting up in bed, but I should be back at work tomorrow. It is heartening reading your kind notes and comments. The support for the Good Omens graphic novel is amazing.
I do feel tremendous pressure to make everyone happy, and I know that's not possible. Someone somewhere is not going to like this little detail, this creative decision, that costume. That's just the way it is, and it is 1000% even more intense because the fandom loves the story so much and they want what's best for it. And that's a good thing.
Naturally, my primary thoughts are making Neil Gaiman and the Terry Pratchett estate happy, and the chips will fall where they may elsewhere.
There are little changes I feel it is important to make, such as body language, as I need to be more expansive in a static medium like comics to convey life more than one would require in prose. So if someone is described as sitting, I am likely to have them get up and walk around.
Or not.
It depends.
Things in the show won't be in the book, because Gabriel, heaven and hell aren't depicted in the book.
But things in the book are in the graphic novel, like the Bikers of the Apocalypse, and trees growing uncontrollably, and a big pile of fish.
I sometimes feel a bit pecked at over it all, but who wouldn't.
But I also recognize I have a wonderful project to work on and I am so grateful for the enthusiasm and support.
I need to take some drugs, take a nap, and maybe I will have the energy for a little work in a couple of hours.
Take care.
kickstarter
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pedgito · 6 months ago
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It's the season of Summer Lovin'—and with the perfect...men. A Pedro Pascal character extravaganza all wrapped up into a series of locations, hidden behind numbers of your choosing and carefully crafted for each Pedro boy. If you're interested, please be sure to read through the following instructions and important information below:
There are 50 moodboards to choose from, first come first serve. (none of these pictures dictate the appearance of reader, this is all purely for vibes and up for your own interpretation) All request need to be sent through my askbox!
There's no maximum word count, but we suggest a minimum of 500 words if you're interested, but that is only a suggestion. Write as much or as little as your heart demands.
(Located under the read more) All numbers are separated by 10 location and labeled 1-5 on each, so when requesting a number please do so in the following manner, [ 'camping, #1' or 'barbecue, #5'] and in the chance that number is already taken, I will message you privately to re-choose.
These moodboards will come with the following requirements: a character, a location, and a quote/sentence that all must be incorporated into the fic, everything else is up to you!
All requests will take place June 2nd-3rd and entries will be due to be posted June 20th-22nd!
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BY THE WATER
#1 — taken (@ladamedusoif)
#2 — javier pena x reader, like snow on the beach (@janaispunk)
#3 — dieter bravo x reader, poolside (@ovaryacted)
#4 — taken (@sp00kymulderr)
#5 — oberyn martell x reader, doves in the wind (@beskarandblasters)
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CONCERT
#1 — tim rockford x reader, confessions (@wildemaven)
#2 — jack daniels x reader, the cowboy & the thief (@schnarfer)
#3 — frankie morales x reader, it's hell on earth to be heavenly (@hellfire-state-of-mind)
#4 — marcus pike x reader, a fine romance (@doscharolastras)
#5 — taken (@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin)
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BARBECUE
#1 — marcus moreno x reader, you see me, i watch you (@iamasaddie)
#2 — taken (@beefrobeefcal)
#3 — lucien flores x reader, met you once saw you thrice (@undercoverpena)
#4 — joel miller x reader, wedding in the apocalypse (@i-own-loki)
#5 — frankie morales x reader, do you feel it too? (@burntheedges)
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CAMPING
#1 — taken (@the-blind-assassin-12)
#2 — dieter bravo x reader, cabin down below (@eupheme)
#3 — taken (@pr0ximamidnight)
#4 — frankie morales x reader, bagged & tagged (@inept-the-magnificent)
#5 — din djarin x reader, sway the stars which dazzle like pearls (@lady-of-glass-and-bone)
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ROAD TRIP
#1 — taken (@whocaresstillthelouvre)
#2 — joel miller x reader, sunshine (@couldsewyouastitchandsavenine)
#3 — jack daniels x reader, hit the road jack! (@thelastofhyde)
#4 — joel miller x reader, until men fell at their women's feet and asked for forgiveness (@jomiddlemarch)
#5 — dave york x reader, still (@sizzlingcloudmentality)
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CARNIVAL
#1 — jack daniels x reader, hot chocolate (@punkshort)
#2 — taken (@starstruckunknown-princess)
#3 — taken (@vivian-pascal)
#4 — max phillips x reader, the eternal night (@ozarkthedog)
#5 — dieter bravo x reader, no solo riders (@missredherring)
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HIKING
#1 — taken (@leslie-lyman)
#2 — frankie x reader, beneath the silent boughs, whispers of dangers flow (@joelalorian)
#3 — javier pena x reader, flora and fauna (@hellishjoel)
#4 — dieter x reader, a lesson in nature (@the-orange-tabby-cat)
#5 — joel miller x reader, stranded (@joelscurls)
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WEDDINGS
#1 — taken (@amanitacowboy)
#2 — javier pena x reader, una noche en medellín (@luxurychristmaspudding)
#3 — marcus pike x reader, we'll regret this in the morning (@thesluttylittleknee)
#4 — dieter bravo x reader, princesa bride (@rhoorl)
#5 — joel miller x reader, my place or yours (@criticallyacclaimedstranger)
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HEAT WAVE
#1 — javier pena x reader, like a fever (@pedgito)
#2 — joel miller x reader, consider it a favor (@chaotic-mystery)
#3 — taken (@quinnnfabrgay-writes)
#4 — taken (@rulexofxnines)
#5 — marcus moreno x reader, a little help goes a long way (@iluvstrawberry)
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MUSEUM
#1 — taken (@carusolikey)
#2 — din djarin x reader, a perfect day (@flightlessangelwings)
#3 — pero tovar x reader, moonlight flight (@sawymredfox)
#4 — marcus pike x reader, when's the last time you lived (@avastrasposts)
#5 — joel miller x reader, who we were (@studioghibelli)
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Please make sure to tag your entries under #SummerLovin24 and tag either @chaotic-mystery, @amanitacowboy, or myself (@pedgito)! These will all be reblogged through the week of June 20th-22nd!
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aziraphales-library · 15 days ago
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Hi all! Thank you very much for all of your hard work. I've glad for this account since there is always something fun to read popping up. Can the Mods recommend any fics where either Aziraphale or Crowley use dating apps for any reason?
Hello. You'll find fics like this, including some of the fics listed here, on our #social media tag, but here are some dating app specific fics...
Bloggers, Baby! by Estrella3791 (T)
Crowley's a blogger, and he may or may not be developing a crush on his commenters. But he's not really - Oh, what's this? Angel1941 is on Tinder??
Oh, Lord, Heal This Love by WaitingToBeBroken (T)
"Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don't know each other," is what Crowley's dating profile says. Too bad Aziraphale was too busy staring at those graceful fingers in his picture to realise that, before he agreed to go on a date with him.
abide by me by cosmya (T)
The year is 2001. Crowley runs a fake marriage website, and Aziraphale has encountered a... problem that requires his services. Naturally, they have No Idea that it's each other at first, but when Aziraphale proves a difficult client, Crowley takes matters into his own hands.
Dim the Lights and Sing You Songs by Polaris (E)
A few months prior to leaving the Dowling household, Crowley had downloaded Grindr for the sole purpose of catfishing randy morons. He was not expecting a paragraph that began with: ‘hello. I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice you have the most lovely nipples.’ Crowley keeps trying to meet his Grindr fuckbuddy. Aziraphale keeps showing up at all his meeting spots. This is terrible.
MatchMade! by amaruuk (E)
Crowley tests a new dating app for an online publication. When his match dumps him for another man's match, he and his fellow dumpee take a chance on each other.
With Potential by Caedmon (E)
Aziraphale is an author of popular and successful romance novels. His books have done very well, so he's surprised when his publisher, Gabriel, comes in and tells him that they expect him to start including explicit sex scenes instead of just the fade-to-black he's been writing. Aziraphale argues a bit, but it's pointless. Gabriel isn't asking, he's telling. And now Aziraphale is in a pickle. He doesn't have a wide swath of sexual experience to pull inspiration from. So his assistant, Anathema, helpfully suggests that he download some dating apps and seek someone to hook up with for casual sex. Aziraphale is appalled by the idea of casual sex at first, and thinks that this plan is going to go absolutely nowhere, but agrees to give it a try. Three guesses what happens next.
The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (E)
After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.
The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars by cassieoh, D20Owlbear (M)
Aziraphale, 3rd year doctoral candidate in Library Sciences and current failure at Astronomy 101, finds out about an app for meeting people from some undergraduates. He’s desperate for a tutor so he decides to try it out. Surely someone in the wilds of Tinder is willing to help him learn about the stars? Meanwhile, in said wilds of Tinder, Crowley (high school dropout, star enthusiast, and official garden center plant-harasser) is not really looking for anything past dinner and maybe ‘tea’ back at their place. Hijinks, and also a surprisingly intricate plot, ensue.
- Mod D
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argoscity · 1 year ago
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ULTIMATE SUPERGIRL READING GUIDE
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since i've been asked a few times in the past for various reading guides for kara, i thought i'd compile them all into one post for the sake of convenience!
this guide has reading orders for supergirl comics in PRE-CRISIS (1959-1985), POST-CRISIS (2004-2011), NEW 52 (2011-2016), REBIRTH (2016-2021), and INFINITE FRONTIER (2021-present).
if you have any questions at all don't be afraid to shoot me an ask!
for each section bolded comics are required, italicized comics are recommended, and everything else is optional!
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[PRE-CRISIS]
ORIGIN AND MIDVALE ERA (NOTE: you'll have to flip to the back of each issue to get to kara's section!) action comics (1938) #252, 258, 267, 276, 278-282, 285, 295, 309-310, 313, 317
STANHOPE COLLEGE action comics (1938) #318, 366-368, 372, 374 world’s finest (1941) #169 adventure comics (1938) #381, 386, 391, 395, 397
K-SFTV REPORTER — SAN FRANCISCO adventure comics (1938) #406-407, 410-415, 419-424
VANDYRE UNIVERSITY supergirl (1974) #1-10
STUDENT ADVISOR — FLORIDA (NOTE: every member of the superfamily has a story in the superman family (1974), so you'll have to flip through to find kara's section!) the superman family (1974) #165, 168, 171, 174, 177, 180, 182 justice league of america (1960) #132-134 the superman family #183, 184-186, 187-189, 191-193, 194, 196-198, 199, 200, 201-202, 203, 204-205, 206-207
ACTRESS — NEW YORK the superman family (1974) 208-210, 211-214, 215-216, 217, 218 superman (1939) #373 (second story titled “an eye (and ear) on the world!”) detective comics (1937) #508-510 the superman family #219-222
THE GREAT DARKNESS SAGA (i recommend this storyline in it's entirety, but kara only appears in the last issue!) legion of superheroes (1980) #290-294
LAKE SHORE UNIVERSITY supergirl (1982) #1-12 (cw: nazi imagery in the brief interlude in #12)  supergirl (1982) #13-15 (cw: antisemitism, nazi imagery, depictions of the holocaust.) supergirl (1982) #16-23
LAST APPEARANCES AND DEATH legion of super-heroes (1980) #300-303 dc comics presents (1978) #28 tales of the legion of super-heroes (1984) #314-315 crisis on infinite earths (1985) #4-7
BONUS POST-COIE APPEARANCES christmas with the super-heroes (1988) #2 (last story titled “should auld acquaintance be forgot”) supergirl (1996) #49, 75-80 solo (2004) #1 (third story titled “young love”) convergence: adventures of superman (2015) #1-2
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[POST-CRISIS]
ORIGIN superman/batman (2003) #8-13  (or you can watch superman/batman: apocalypse (2010) instead which I recommend! the art is a lot more tasteful and it's a very faithful adaptation of the comic so you won’t be missing out on anything.)
KARA WITH THE LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES supergirl and the legion of super-heroes (2006) #16-36
LOEB AND KELLY HELL ERA supergirl (2005) #1-5, 9-10, 19 (you don’t have to read any of this since it gets retconned anyway, but if you’re interested in kara’s early characterization, the beginnings of her friendship with cassie sandsmark, or her difficulty fitting in on earth then you’re welcome to read what i’ve provided.)
KELLEY PUCKETT ERA Amazons Attack! teen titans (2003) #47-48  amazons attack! (2007) #3  supergirl (2005) #20  amazons attack! (2007) #4  teen titans (2003) #49
supergirl (2005) #21-22  teen titans (2003) #50, 51-55  supergirl (2005) #25-33
Superman: Brainiac  action comics (1938) #866-870
GATES AND IGLE HEAVEN ERA supergirl (2005) #34
New Krypton (new krypton is one of my favorite events and i recommend it in its entirety, but for the sake of brevity I’ll only be listing the issues relevant to kara.) superman: new krypton special #1  superman (1939) #681  adventure comics special featuring guardian #1  action comics (1938) #871  supergirl (2005) #35  superman (1939) #682  action comics (1938) #872  supergirl (2005) #36  superman (1939) #683  action comics (1938) #873
teen titans (2003) #66  supergirl (2005) #37-42
Friends and Fugitives superman: secret Files 2009 #1  supergirl (2005) #43  action comics (1938) #881  supergirl (2005) #45  action comics (1938) #882  supergirl (2005) #46-47
supergirl (2005) annual 1, #48-50
Last Stand of New Krypton  adventure comics (2009) #8  superman: last stand of new krypton #1  supergirl (2005) #51  superman (1938) #698  adventure comics (2009) #9  superman: last stand of new krypton #2  adventure comics (2009) #10  supergirl (2005) #52  superman (1938) #699  superman: last stand of new krypton #3 superman: war of the supermen (2010) #0, 1-4 
supergirl (2005) #53-57, annual 2, 58-59
END OF SUPERGIRL VOL 5 supergirl (2005) #60-64 supergirl (2005) #65-67
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[THE NEW 52]
ORIGIN and SUPERGIRL VS THE WORLDKILLERS supergirl (2011) #1-7
SUPERGIRL and SILVER BANSHEE supergirl (2011) #8-11
SUPERGIRL and SUPERBOY superboy (2011) #6
SANCTUARY supergirl (2011) #12, 0, 13
H’EL ON EARTH superman (2011) #13 supergirl (2011) #14 superman (2011) #14 superboy (2011) #15 supergirl (2011) #15 superboy (2011) #16 superboy (2011) Annual #1 supergirl (2011) #16 superman (2011) #16 superboy (2011) #17 supergirl (2011) #17 superman (2011) #17
SUPERGIRL and POWERGIRL supergirl (2011) #18-20
CYBORG SUPERMAN supergirl (2011) #21-23 action comics (2011) #23.1 supergirl (2011) #24
KRYPTON RETURNS action comics (2011) annual #2 superboy (2011) #25 supergirl (2011) #25 superman (2011) #25
SUPERGIRL VS LOBO supergirl (2011) #26-27
RED DAUGHTER OF KRYPTON supergirl (2011) #28-29 red lanterns (2011) #28-29 supergirl (2011) #30 red lanterns (2011) #30 supergirl (2011) #31 red lanterns (2011) #31-32 supergirl (2011) #32-33
SUPERMAN: DOOMED (this is a whole storyline but I'll only be listing the issues that kara appears in!) superman/wonder woman (2013) #9 action comics (2011) #33 supergirl (2011) #34 superman: doomed (2014) #2 action comics (2011) #35 supergirl (2011) #35
FUTURES END supergirl: futures end (2014) #1
JUSTICE LEAGUE UNITED justice league united (2014) #1-5 justice league united (2014) annual #1 justice league united (2014) #6-10
CRUCIBLE supergirl (2011) #36-40
FINAL DAYS OF SUPERMAN (kara only appears in the issues i've italicized and bolded, but i put all the relevant issues if you wanted to read the full storyline!) superman (2011) #51 batman/superman (2013) #31 action comics (2011) #51 superman/wonder woman (2013) #28 batman/superman (2013) #32 action comics (2011) #52 superman/wonder woman (2013) #29 superman (2011) #52
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[REBIRTH]
KARA IN NATIONAL CITY supergirl: rebirth #1
supergirl (2016) #1-8 batgirl (2016) annual 1 supergirl #9-12
supergirl (2016) annual 1 supergirl #13-20
world's finest: batwoman and supergirl #1-2
ROGOL ZAAR and THE SINS OF THE CIRCLE the man of steel #1-2, 3-6 supergirl #21-33, #34-36
LEVIATHAN and BATMAN WHO LAUGHS superman: leviathan rising special #1 supergirl #34-36 supergirl (2016) annual 2 supergirl #37-42
HOUSE OF KENT action comics (2016) #1022-1023 action comics (2016) #1024-1028
FUTURE STATE superman of metropolis (2021) #1-2 kara zor el, superwoman (2021) #1-2
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[INFINITE FRONTIER]
action comics 2021 annual
WOMAN OF TOMORROW supergirl: woman of tomorrow (2021) #1-8
WORLD'S FINEST batman/superman: world's finest (2022) #2-6, 8, 12
A WORLD WITHOUT CLARK KENT and RED MOON (kara is featured in the back-up story! if you want the full context of this plot i recommend reading the full warworld arc in action comics [action comics #1030-1046, superman: warworld apocalypse #1]!) action comics (2016) #1044-1046, 1047-1049
DAWN OF DC action comics (2016) #1051-1053, 1055-1056 superman (2023) #1-3 power girl special #1 steelworks (2023) #1-3
KNIGHT TERRORS knight terrors: superman (2023) #1-2
DAWN OF DC (continued) action comics: doomsday special (2023) superman (2023) #7 hawkgirl (2023) #4 supergirl special (2023)
NEW WORLDS [this arc starts on action comics #1057—kara doesn't appear in that issue but I recommend reading it for context!] action comics (2016) #1058-1060 action comics 2023 annual
JOURNEY TO FERIMBIA powergirl (2023) #5, 6-7
HOUSE OF BRAINIAC action comics (2016) #1064 superman (2023) #13 action comics (2016) #1065 superman (2023) #14 action comics (2016) #1066 superman (2023) #15
UNIVERSE END action comics (2016) #1070-1075
UPCOMING: action comics (2016) #1076-1081 superwoman special #1 [out dec. 11]
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oozedninjas · 11 months ago
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Blame the Chemicals in the Mind
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Summary: Mad scientist!Donnie discovers he has developed twisted, unwanted feelings toward his best experimentation specimen.
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A/N: General verses, but I placed something about each version of Donnie, let's see if you can find it! Also, I heavily kept in mind 2012verse and Bayverse for some reason? Anyway, this will have multiple parts but it can be read as a one-chapter thing too :)
Please do not spam like. Reblogs are appreciated! ♡
Warnings: NSFW / DARK CONTENT/ smut/fem!Reader/ after the kraang apocalypse/Donatello and reader are both mid to late twenties /dub-con/eventual Yandere topics/experimentation/torture/blood and violence/trauma bonding/Stockholm syndrome/blood extraction/panic attack (reader's)/twisted hurt-comfort/between-the-lines humiliation/ mentions of the use of a feeding probe/sensorial overstimulation and deprivation/ Regarding smut: humping/creampie/DUB-CON/ dead dove do not eat
This is 18+ dark content. If you click on keep reading you have agreed you want to read this content.
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His ever-present gaze penetrated the tank's glass, fixating on your orbs. It was a constant company, greeting you upon waking— whether immersed in the computer's screen a few paces ahead or absorbed in a stress ball he kept in hand to stimulate his thoughts. He consistently stared, as if that alone could propel him closer to a cure for the three monstrous things that so closely resembled him. 
Donatello observed them through the fortified cells he constructed, initially intended as a security measure. He sighed deeply. The laboratory never felt as desolate as it did now, as if hopelessness swept through, resonating through his body. Gradually, despair eroded small fragments of his sanity, leaving nothing more than a faint echo of who he used to be.
He needed to find a cure soon. And so he pinched, tugged, injected, and inflicted upon your body a distinct form of torment every day. Each one an inch closer. However, despite your best judgment, you lacked the strength to keep on resenting him.
Exhausted from enduring numerous stings and side effects, your brain, perhaps as a survival mechanism, clung to words of reaffirmation. Praise. Approbation. Plaudits. They seemed to breathe sanity back into your inner self, preventing your poor state of mind from sinking deeper into the dark.
Such an exquisite test subject!
So remarkably compliant and subdued, aren't you?
I'll create an antidote, and they'll be back, and it'll be thanks to you.
You seem unwell today.
His voice was distant from under the water but he sounded somehow concerned. "Let's take the day off. You can't die just yet. Finding others like you is proving increasingly challenging."
You didn't want him to ignore you for the rest of the day. You wished he wouldn't. You could endure a slight pinch if it meant feeling something. Lately, the increasing sensory isolation was becoming more and more nerve-wracking. You must have wished too fervently, for just as he had not entirely turned away, the power abruptly ran out.
Donatello gasped. The blue light of your tank framed his face. A menace, yet fixable. The hitch: replacing the lab's battery required using the one in your tank. Both were designed with separate energies after an incident— an unfortunate electrocution during a short-circuit caused by an electric storm. Test subject 83q1q didn’t make it.
The wisest course of action was to empty the tank, replace the battery, and secure you elsewhere until he could find a new one. Your body throbbed with tickles of anxiety and anticipation upon noticing his intent.
As it drained, you descended to the bottom of it. He opened its side, causing all the tubes to tilt down. Donatello pulled them off. You inhaled as soon as he unplugged them from your throat. A coughing fit almost broke your rib cage right after a sharp, reckless gasp for air.
An overwhelming sensation hovered over you. Abruptly, everything was too much. Too much air, too rough floor, too much pressure on your skull, too loud— You can't breathe. You're choking. Your ears are beeping. Someone's screaming. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can’t— He's touching you. You tensed. Would he return you to the tank? Where's the needle? The last time he touched you, there was a needle, or something sharp, and it hurt. You brace yourself. 
Donatello began making even circles over your bare back.
"Deep breaths," he said. His voice sounded different. Steadier, warmer. "Follow my own, here," he pressed your hand to his plastron. His inhalations were even, soothing.
"That's right, you're doing well—maintain your focus right here."
Your view briefly smeared your palm over his chest before properly adjusting. Your head pulsed as if your skull rejected your brain. Your mind was a jumble of many things barely held together. But you’re breathing, you’re alive, nothing hurts.
"Well done. Now, tell me five things about yourself," he asked.
The piercing cold scraped your bones like long-stirred claws. Nothing hurts, not quite much.
"My name is Donatello,” he began to set an example. “I am a scientist. I aim to fix the Kraang predicament. I like purple,” he paused, realizing there was nothing more about him worth mentioning. Then, against logical reasoning, he added: “I miss my brothers.”
Squatting, embracing your naked, soaked silhouette in a failed attempt to stop shivering, you listened; forcing yourself to clutch onto his voice, scarcely discerning his words but making the effort. On the verge of giving up on obtaining an answer, Donatello motioned back. Your nails dug into his plastron just then. He tensed.
“My name is—” your voice quivered, mind spinning, searching. You told him. “Chest… hurts. Head, hurts. I’m cold.” Your weakling tone disturbed you, hoarse, broken, reduced to a raspy mutter. “I’m… alone.”
You were unexpectedly a jarring mirror he reflected in. Donatello tilted his head, musing.
"Well done. It wasn't so hard, was it?" he articulated, displacing your hand. "Now come here, you ought to wait inside the cell until the battery is efficiently substituted and operational—I still need to find another to power the tank, though.” he added between his teeth, more to himself than to you. “Anyway, be glad, you'll rest," he finished, offering you a towel.
You took it, hesitantly. Soft, cold fingers brushing with rough, calloused ones. Donatello retracted his hand upon the brief contact. For half a second, he seemed misplaced. Something shifted thereafter. As if the lab’s loneliness somehow extinguished just by having another breath residing there. As days elapsed, he worked diligently to replace the burnt pieces and connect the battery. This task, which would have taken only a few hours with all the needed resources, was now hindered by the aftermath of the world nearly ending. 
You braced yourself every time he approached your space, yet, pain never came with him. Instead, there was something, something more, something close to a kindle glimpse of a strange fascination. Donatello couldn't grasp why, but he started bringing you food instead of using the feeding probe.
“I help bring them back,” you said one fine day, after long contemplating the scattered photographs of four turtles attired in different colors, enjoying life before the apocalypse.
The sound of the welder stopped, as did the sparks that created different patterns of light around. He looked at you, understanding that it was not a reiteration of your role; it was an express wish, a genuine interest, as if you actually had a saying on the matter. It was, in a way, touching.
“Yes, you will,” he paused briefly, contemplating for the first time going slightly out of his way to give you something. But what? Perhaps something to wear? No, keeping you naked meant you wouldn't dare to set foot outside. It had to be something else, something more.
Donatello pondered for half a heartbeat before pulling the protective lenses up.  “Hey, on a scale of one to ten, how cold would you rate your cell?”
***
The day came when he finished fixing the lights. The sudden brightness forced a hiss out of you, too sharp. He adjusted it, toning it down to a level you could bare. He found an extra battery as well, which meant you would return to the tank. You would hurt again, but it’s fine; he gave you purpose. He fed and warmed you, and listened to you. He gave you gentle head pats— 
He’s good. 
He doesn’t care if he hurts you.
It’s alright. He gave you purpose. 
He doesn’t care if you cry.
He keeps you warm.
Donatello took some blood samples, followed by platelets, in between a couple more tests. You felt dizzy jumping off the chair, narrowly holding on to the edge of the table so as not to slam against the floor. The tank light loomed over you. Bit by bit, you gestured towards the two-meter cylindrical vessel, your heart rate suddenly plummeting. The dreadful prospect of sensory deprivation gnawed at your insides. Your breaths became erratic, resonating loudly in your ears, and the sensation of blood swirling in the pit of your stomach heightened. You won't feel, you won't eat, you will hurt. You can't breathe. You gasp for air. It’s alright, it’s alright-
"I was thinking..." Donatello's voice cut through the oppressive atmosphere, and you clung to the sound as if it were a lifeline. "Since you've behaved— what if I don't send you back in the tank? What if you stay here a bit longer?"
You turned, your eyes widening in astonishment. 
"Would you like that?" he asked, not facing you, an awkwardness in his demeanor, as if it were the first time in his life he had asked for company.
"Yes," you gasped.
***
You couldn't pinpoint when it happened, but it didn't matter. You lay on his lap, resting as he worked, your body bare, absorbing the warmth of the room he had carefully heated for you. You cherished the rare moments he allowed you this close to him, savoring the seconds of feeling human once again through simple acts like cuddling. It made the aching in your body subside a smidgen.
The embrace elicited subtle signs of contentment, slowly fading into gasps, later morphing into moaning. His breath hitched upon hearing them. Donatello wasn't the best at navigating feelings. But these sensations were not exactly that. They couldn’t be. No, it was more like a palpitation triggering a primal response to your scent, your warmth, and the gentle quiver in your voice.
He scoffed. Deep thought on the matter didn’t change that his cock throbbed with each breath rolling off your mouth. He tried to shake the heat of his head, but why? Why should he resist? There was no purpose for not indulging. In fact, it could be beneficial.
He let his hand travel across your back. His touch made you shudder. He puffed, a nerdy sound he hadn’t heard himself make since the first time he watched a porn video. 
“Come,” he said, tugging you to sit upright.
You raised your head from the crook on his neck to face him. “To the operating room?”
“No, just here,” he muttered.
Donatello adjusted you over the lower half of his plastron before reclining the chair back. Your nude pussy pressed upon its wetness. He groaned. Warm fingertips clung to the upper sides of his shell, seeking balance. He stroked your hair. You waited. Nothing hurt.
Donatello placed both hands over your love handles, moving you back and forth so your cunt rubbed over his needy slit. It throbbed, his hard cock soon to emerge from it. He whimpered, breath hitching when you followed his lead, hypnotized by the exquisite friction over your clit. A few more humps and it came out, pulling a deep growl from him. You looked in astonishment as it rose against your abdomen. tick, long and glistening in a creamy transparent liquid. Your inner thighs soon soaked in it. Nothing hurts, no…, in fact- it’s good. Fuck, so good. You sighed, unable to stop grinding over his newly released member, absolutely thriving in the delicious way it numbed everything into bliss. 
Donatello’s head fell backward. His mouth curved slightly at the corners in a somewhat twisted smile of enjoyment. His earnest, soft moaning mingled with yours feverishly. 
“That’s so hot— I want more, I want to be in you, I know you’re so warm inside,” his voice was desperate, drunken-like. 
In one motion, Donatello pulled you up. Your back hit the cold desk. You sensed the keyboard under your head. It hurt. You snap back, eyes open wide. He grabbed your waist. Six strong fingers kept you in place as he lined with you. You puff, suddenly tensing.
"You want it too, right? In theory, it should feel good. You're too wet for it not to, don't worry, you've been good. It won't hurt." 
The question lingered. You don't know. You don't want to hurt. Would he be angry if you forced him to stop? Could you do that? Would he put you back in the tank? You're dizzy. 
He moved the tip of his cock along your soaked cunt, focusing on your soft nub, making circles over it. Your legs opened wider in response. His voice quivered as he whimpered, yours followed. You clenched around nothing. 
"You're not saying no, are you?" he panted. "So I assume you must want to, right?" 
Your hole stretches with his size sliding in. You groan, dragging your nails over the desk. 
"Ah— it hurts! It hurts!" you blurt out. 
"Bear it. The ache isn't supposed to- last too long. It'll feel good once you get used to it. You're good, you can bear it, you ca-nm,"
His body steamed, and his mind burnt with it, slowly melting the last drops of rational thinking. "You're so tight," he thrust once, twice, and thrice. 
You reached for him, clinging to his quivering voice, his praise, his— fuck he's so deep in you. his pace knocks your breath out. It hurts. It fills you so well. It hurts. Feels hot. His moves are steady, building heat in your belly. Pain's giving out. You clench around him, sucking him deeper. 
Donatello jerked forward, mouth gaping, eyes shutting. Both forearms held him up over the desk. He was now close enough for you to embrace him, so you clamped one hand to his shell and the other to his shoulder. Both legs hugged him near. With each new thrust your clit rubbed to his plastron sending waves of volts through your veins. 
"Yes," you breathed, barely above your own moaning.
Donatello grinned, "I knew you liked it,”
“Yeah—ah, faster, harder,” you pleaded, head thrown back as he fucked you.
He granted. Making his pace even crueler. His content smile never faded. 
“Your little cunt loves this so much! I can feel you squeezing me so tight, fuck, such a good testing subject, about to be my favorite cumdump.” 
Your muscles tensed in anticipation, the heat in your core about to burst. The sound of wet skin slapping reached your ears as your toes curled. 
His breath staggered as he spoke. "Ah- I can't stop. I'm coming, fuck, yes, yes-mnn," 
The hot loads filled you all the way to your womb. You embraced him, his ragged breath right in your ear. He enjoyed it, you did good, all feels right, more, more— You came with a loud moan, sweet pulsations carried the bliss from your belly through your temples, melting you.
He stayed still for a while, holding you in his arms, absorbing the warmth from your body. You both descended from the high together. Your scent mingled with his own, and for a fleeting moment, something tingled within him—the creeping onset of a feeling. He scoffed. It meant nothing. What are feelings if not chemicals in the mind, fueling instincts? 
"Go clean yourself up," he instructed, letting off your legs. "We still have some tests for the day."
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dyaz-stories · 11 months ago
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an indentation in the shape of you || Cha Hyun-Su x f!Reader
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summary: Hyun-Su wants to learn how to make you feel good. The two of you experiment some more.
word count: 2.8k
warnings & tags: fluff, smut, reader is afab, explicit consent, pwp, porn with feelings, fingering, dry-humping i guess?, they're both virgins and pretty awkward but they're getting better at this, all very vanilla.
first one-shot · previous one-shot
This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.
A/N: this is my first hyun-su one-shot without angst lol (...don't get too used to it). anyway, this is more smut, and i think it's more intense than the previous one. hyun-su is more confident in this one, and he takes charge a little more (but in other ways he's pretty subby, so do with that what you want). hope you enjoy!
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There is something about watching Hyun-Su moving around in your house that warms your heart in a way you can’t quite explain. He’s seemed more confident there lately, no longer tiptoeing or stiffening around you like you could kick him out any second. It reminds you of days forever gone, when your mom used to sit at the table while doing her crosswords and your dad put music on the second he walked in through the door.
It reminds you of when this house was a home.
Right now, Hyun-Su’s fixing up a spear he’s brought here with some of your dad’s tools. It’s not his, you know that much. ‘Yi-Kyeong asked me to take care of it’, he’d said when he had set to fix it. There was something to his tone that had stopped you from asking for more, even if you think he’d have told you. He’d said her name respectfully, but with deep sadness, and you had known that there was a lot more to this story. You’d get there some day, you were sure, but not tonight.
Hyun-Su glances up at you, and you almost whip your head away to pretend you weren’t looking at him, like you’re a highschooler with a crush. Instead, you don’t even try to make it look like the long forgotten book in your lap is of any interest to you, and you give him a smile.
He stills his movements.
“Is something wrong?”
His voice is calm and deep. He sure has come a long way.
“Just like looking at you,” you answer, because it’s true, and even with all that progress, you’re not surprised when Hyun-Su looks away from you, cheeks turning red.
When he gets the courage to look back at you, though, a bashful smile illuminates his features, and you don’t think that would have happened even as recently as a few weeks ago.
“You do?”
There’s just something in the air. Something fresh and sweet and new, something that makes you bite your lower lip while you nod, suppressing the giggle that’s forming in the back of your throat. Hyun-Su’s eyes on you feel intense, and you’re not used to getting that kind of look from him. After a few seconds of that, he abandons the spear behind him to stand up and walk towards you, eyes not leaving yours for a second.
A long, intense shiver runs down your back. Under his hoodie, you can see the muscles of his shoulders moving as he walks, and fleetingly, you wonder if you’d have had a chance with him, in a world without the Apocalypse, but even that is quickly swallowed by the fact that you have him now.
He puts a hand on the back of the couch as he leans close to you to kiss you, the other coming to rest on your waist and oh, if he keeps doing things like that, you think you’ll just turn into a puddle. Your heart is fluttering, and when his hand sneaks under your t-shirt, long, cold fingers carefully caressing your skin, you think it just might fly out of your chest.
His lips move slowly against yours, and you tilt your head back as he towers over you. You feel like you’re going into overdrive from how sensual he’s being, how his tongue dances with yours as the soft sounds of the kiss fill the room. It’s not long before he’s gently pushing you onto your back on the couch, and he goes down with you, putting one knee between your legs to support himself.
And it’s all just so much. Hyun-Su’s lips, his taste on your tongue, his warm body half-covering yours, his fingers running over your ribs, and, fuck, now his knee just almost, almost pressing right where you need him to.
But this feels nice, too, and you’re not trying to initiate anything sexual just yet, so you do your best to be patient. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, and find some satisfaction in the way Hyun-Su loses his rhythm at that. Knowing that you still have that kind of effect on him, even as you’re unraveling completely under his touch, makes you just a little more confident in what you’re doing.
It isn’t long before Hyun-Su’s gotten his bearings back though, and then he kisses you with renewed passion. The kiss turns less controlled, mouth crashing against yours harder, his hand tightens on your waist— before he pulls away, panting.
“Sorry,” he says before he can catch himself, cheeks flushed.
“I didn’t mind,” you answer, but your voice is squeakier than you had intended.
“I didn’t mean to— I wanted to ask you something.”
His black eyes are wide, and as much as the blue eyes are like an electric shock running through you, you love them so much. You love how you drown in them, you love how kind they are, love that they are, truly, a window to his soul.
“What is it?” you whisper, not trusting your voice anymore.
“Just— What we did. Last time.”
No need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out, so, even if you feel blood rushing to your face, you nod.
“I wanted to, uh, return the favor. If you don’t mind.”
It’s your eyes’ turn to widen, and you push yourself onto your elbows to better read his expression. The skin of your face tingles with how burning hot it is.
“I mean I— Sure but you don’t— You don’t have to do anything—”
“I know,” he says, shaking his head. His voice is soft. “But I want to.”
You swallow, but you lay back down. You’re more nervous in this situation than you would have expected, feel vulnerable, exposed, even if you’re all clothed for now. But you trust Hyun-Su, you do, with all of your heart, and you cannot imagine a better person to have this experience with. So, slowly, you nod.
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure,” you whisper.
“Then can I…?”
He pulls on your shirt, but without putting any force into it. His eyes are on you, waiting for your approval — or whatever you decide to answer with.
You swallow.
“Um, yes, but could you— could you also…?”
He understands your meaning without you having finished, and acts on it faster than you would have expected, almost immediately pulling his own hoodie over his head and letting it fall to the floor. You’d noticed before that, for all his shyness over other things, he doesn’t seem to care about nudity all that much, but you’re not sure what to do with it.
For now, you can at least admire the work of art that is his body, his well-defined muscles and hard pectorals, and since he’s out in the open now, you give him a nod.
“Go ahead.”
He takes off your shirt like you’re made of porcelain, pulling it slowly and softly over your head, and taking his time so it doesn’t get caught in your hair. It is such a sweet sight, how focused he gets on the task, on making sure he’s doing right, so that he doesn’t hurt you in any way. It’s only once he’s done that his gaze lands on your body. He stills, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and you can’t help but stiffen.
It might be silly, at this point in your relationship — and when the world has literally ended outside your window — but you’re feeling self-conscious. You want to fold your arms in front of your breasts, hide your stomach and any imperfection.
“You’re beautiful,” Hyun-Su says, so obviously in awe, and the weight on your stomach is replaced by sweet, sweet butterflies. “Is it— is it okay to—”
“Touch me,” you ask instead of letting him stutter through the rest of his sentence, and he almost gasps at that, pants suddenly feeling a lot tighter.
“You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” he mumbles, bright red once again, stealing a kiss from you when you open your mouth to tease.
Then he’s kissing down your neck, and you can tell that he’s mimicking the things you did to him the last time something like this happened between the two of you. You barely have time to find that sweet, though, because soon the only thing on your mind are the open-mouthed kisses he’s pressing against your skin, and how they make you so desperate to buck your hips against he’s oh so well placed thigh.
He doesn’t linger on your neck, though, soon moving down to your chest, sneaking a hand behind your back to try and unclasp your bra — something he ends up struggling you with so much that you’re the one that eventually reaches back to get it done. He’ll have all the time to learn that kind of things later. For now, there’s something on your mind, and you don’t want to have to wait any longer.
You let him slide it down your arms, then discard it, letting it fall with the rest of your clothes.
“Can I…?”
“You still don’t have to ask.”
He hesitates for a second, before going back down to press a shy kiss under your collarbone, right where your breast starts to form. He keeps kissing his way down, hands for now cautiously staying away. Finally, he reaches your nipple, and you cannot hold back a distinct gasp when he carefully wraps his mouth around it. It turns into a full moan when he flicks his tongue against it — and you could swear you feel his mouth stretching into a grin right after that.
It’s then that he cups your other breast with his hand, and you shiver. His body may be radiating heat, but his hands are cold. They don’t stay that way for long though, not with how hot you’re running right now yourself. He starts off shy over there too, at first massaging your breast gently, before his fingers dare brush against that nipple. It’s hard already, and with his mouth on the other side, all you can do is arch into his touch, moans still falling freely from your lips.
Pleasure’s running wild in your body, each and every sensation going straight down to your core, more so when his fingers experimentally pull on your nipple. You’re dripping wet already, desperate for relief, and it’s not long before you can no longer hold yourself back and buck your hips up against his leg.
He lets go of you almost immediately, glancing down at your lower body as if he doesn’t understand what’s happening. When he looks back at you, his eyes are impossibly wide, his pupils dilated.
“Did you— Did you just—”
“Hyun-Su,” you call out in a sigh, running your fingers over the nape of his neck. “Touch me.”
For a second, his whole body tenses and he just stares at you. Then he exhales.
“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath. “Fuck. Um. Then I’ll— I’ll just—” He starts fiddling with the button of your jeans, and just the anticipation of his touch where you need it the most sends pleasure rushing through you once more. This time, he manages to get them off of you without your help, and there’s another slow exhale. “You’re so— You’re so—”
Wet is the word you think he’s searching for, and he’s not wrong about that. The urge to reach down between your leg to take care of the ache you’re feeling is strong, but the desire to feel him down there is all-consuming, and so you wait for him, your breathing loud and ragged.
“Tell me, okay? Tell me what feels good to you.”
He doesn’t take off your panties, probably because he hasn’t gotten your jeans fully off, and instead just pushes them to the side. He’s cautious here too, at first barely brushing against the lips, which still makes the muscles of your thighs tense. It feels like you’ve been waiting for it for centuries when he finally inserts a long finger inside you, sliding in so easily from how dripping wet you are. Your hold on his shoulders tighten, fingers digging into his skin, and even with your lips pressed tightly together, your moan reverberates through your body.
“Good?” Hyun-Su asks, and his low voice in your ears does absolute wonders to you right now.
“You can add another one,” you say, except it’s probably more of a whine, but you can’t tell for sure, not with how much your head is buzzing right now.
Hyun-Su obeys almost immediately, and you bury your head in his neck to muffle the groan that follows. You feel so good, so full, and he hasn’t even moved yet. You let yourself adjust, before giving him more instructions.
“You can— You can spread them open and— ah!— m-move them in and— Ah!”
Hyun-Su follows your advice diligently, and soon you no longer even have the strength to hold on to him, falling down onto your back with your whole body arching into his touch, following after him if he pulls out. It’s so, so fucking good, nothing you’ve ever done on your own can compare to this and you don’t know how you’ll be able to go back after that.
You’re gasping and writhing underneath him for you don’t know how long, and you’re so, so close to the edge, but you need— You just need something more, so you push yourself back up on your elbows, something harder than you’d think, when your muscles feel like jelly, and that’s when you realize that his hips are bucking against your leg. You hadn’t paid any attention to it, but now you see how obviously hard he is, and the small, almost shy movements of his hips as he ruts against you.
“Hyun-Su,” you call — you’re no longer paying attention to how your voice is coming out —, “here—”
You grab his wrist, and even if it means he pulls his hand out, something that immediately has your walls clenching around nothing at the loss, guide him so his fingers brush against your clit.
“There,” you whisper. “You can keep, uh, keep your fingers inside and— and touch me there, too.”
He nods, pushes the fingers back inside. There are a few seconds as he figures out how to best put his hand, and then when he strokes your clit with his thumb, you almost immediately lose it. You only have the presence of mind to lift your leg up, just a little, so it presses against his hard cock.
It’s his turn to freeze and to let out a moan then, one obviously surprised out of him.
“You should feel good too,” you manage to mumble through the haze of pleasure.
“But I— I want to make you feel—”
“We can both feel good,” you answer, and Hyun-Su just cannot resist kissing you again. It’s messy, tongues clashing together without much control, but fuck, he cannot explain or control the way he feels about you.
You come just a few moments later, waves of pleasure crashing through you all at once as his thumb circles your clit, fingers deep inside you, moving at a tranquil pace that lets you feel all of his movements inside you.
When you open your eyes again, he’s above you, staring at you lovingly.
“Good?” he asks.
Better than that.
“That was incredible,” you tell him though even that feels like an understatement. You love the way he obviously preens under your compliment. “But— But what about you? Didn’t you—”
You reach out, but he grabs your wrist before you can touch him.
“I, um, I’ve already—”
He’s turning bright red again, but you understand without another word. His jeans are still on, and you haven’t even actually touched him, and yet he still came in his pants, against your thigh, while fingering you.
Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed.
“Oh,” is all you can truly think to say. Then, shyly, “Want to go get cleaned up?”
“Together?” His voice is soft, questioning, but his eyes are in yours, comfortable instead of avoiding. You nod.
Later, you’re still in his arms, your back pressed against his chest, his face buried in your neck. And you, too, are comfortable.
There’s just something in the air, something fresh and sweet and familiar, and you think something you haven’t let yourself explore all that much, even if you’ve known, deep down, for a long time.
It just might be love.
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and here we are! this one felt a lot smuttier to me than the previous part, but it was fun to write about this relationship in a less angsty way, too. maybe i should let them be happy a little more lol. anyway, i hope you liked it! next part probably won't be smut, but i don't know when it will be out. i have a new, time consuming internship that doesn't give me a lot of free time, so i don't know how much/when i'll have time to write. but i definitely have more stuff i want to write for this couple! so don't hesitate to comment and/or reblog to give me the motivation to write after work lol, and i'll also be answering my asks when i have time!
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haveyouplayedthisttrpg · 3 months ago
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Have you played DEAD AIR ?
By Fiona Ruthven
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DEAD AIR is a solo RPG about running a radio station after a nuclear apocalypse. The elevator pitch is Threads meets The Thick of It - DEAD AIR faces the unrelenting horror of nuclear obliteration with the grim certainty that things can always get worse.
The 48 page zine takes the form of a collection of found documents collected before and after the bombs fell. You will take on the role of station manager, alongside any other roles that you can't find wasteland survivors to fill. The job will have you spending as much time trying to make sense of ancient and conflicting broadcast guidance as you will keeping the generators running (and the wolves at bay).
The only materials required to play are a deck of playing cards, a pen and paper, and a copy of the zine. Optionally, you can record your programmes live if you have access to (even very basic) recording equipment and a desire to perform!
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