#I have gifted more Spite shit posting

[crowinkwriting]

Rook: [Exists]

Spite:

Lucanis:

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine how thick the tension is between ex-husband Geto and you, his hot, rich nepo baby ex with whom he went from enemies to lovers and now back to enemies.

"You're demoting my student?!" Suguru asks in disbelief.

You're seated in his Tokyo Jujutsu High office on the other side of the desk. Legs folded, nails perfectly manicured, pantsuit custom-made - you are the very picture of post-divorce vengeance.

There was no hiding the extra moment his stare fixed on you when you'd walked in.

"No, babe, I'm not. The higher ups are," you reply and your ex's eye twitches. He hated being called pet names he deemed 'juvenile' even while you were together, preferring more elegance like 'my love' or 'darling' or 'sweetheart.' Of course, now you call him babe to spite him.

"You're shitting me," he says.

You shrug and sort of feel bad for the young sorcerer getting demoted, but not that bad. "What do you want me to do, Suguru? Your little pet project has needed to get bailed out of her last three missions. Maybe go have a talk with her, find out what's her damage, and then we could be back in business."

Suguru can't exactly argue with the facts. He just gives you a scathing look and signs the paper you need to archive. The moment he finishes the last stroke of his name, he waves you off.

"Go on and finish your other chores your daddy sent you on." And of course, he has to take a jab at you in return. "Sweetheart." His actual nickname for you when you were together. It made you blush back then, and now your face turns red for an entirely different reason.

Rolling your eyes, you snatch up the paperwork, making sure your sleeve rides up when you grab it. On your wrist is a chunky gold bracelet with a half dozen custom charms on it. You made sure to wear something he couldn't help but comment on. His gaze locks onto it, as you predicted.

"That doesn't look like something you'd buy for yourself." Regret briefly flashes across his face once he realizes the opening he just gave you.

"Oh yeah," you say casually and move around the desk to stand in front of him. "That Kamo Clan guy, the one that was a few years ahead of us? He's been sending me little gifts lately. I guess he's finally on the marriage market. But if you like the bracelet so much, here."

You unzip his jacket and slowly run your hand from his collarbone down to his pec. Suguru stares into your soul the whole way down. Even through the fabric of his dress shirt, his skin is hot to the touch. It's summer, and you can just imagine the pretty tan he's sporting underneath. But that's a thought for another time. Now you need him to suffer a bit.

Tucking the bracelet into his shirt pocket, you withdraw your hand and walk towards the door like nothing happened.

"Bye, Suguru!" you cheer with a little finger wiggle.

Your ex-husband, who's desperately trying to blink the dark look out of his eyes, glares at you whilst splayed out in his chair with his jacket wide open.

"I hate you," he says.

You give Suguru a hand heart and leave his office.

First, y'all got pining, self-sacrificial ex-husband Gojo and his formerly feisty ex-wife who still love each other, now please enjoy this sample of ex-husband Geto and his hot, rich nepo baby ex-wife who plays "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" on repeat whenever she's about to go see him

[Masterlist]

[bigfatbreak]

I see a lot of people talking about what Chloé and Kim did, and I think I'm missing something? What did they do?

In a more recent episode "Derision," (sloppy sum up below)

its discovered that the reason Marinette is so stunted, awkward, and generally staccato about dating Adrien in spite of genuinely liking him, is because she was a major victim of Chloe's the year prior. During that year, Chloe threatened anyone who would attempt to befriend her, isolating Marinette completely, only having a friend in a girl named Socqueline who would relentlessly defend her.

At the time, Marinette had a crush on Kim, and so Chloe, knowing Kim loves pranks, had him "prank" her at the pool as a fake confession. As Kim offered a fake, heartfelt confession in return for Marinette's own, he gifted Marinette a box full of spiders, causing her to flip out and fall into the pool from the high end. Sabine and Chloe were filming the whole thing, and planned on posting it on social media to openly mock her. The only thing stopping them is Socqueline, who legitimately kicks the phone out of Chloe's hands.

This leads into why Marinette is so bad at confessions. After a year of being harassed, bullied, and isolated, she takes a chance on love, and is only horrifically and publicly mocked. Her attitude towards Adrien makes more sense with this context - deeply and passionately loving him, but constantly hesitating on the last step, as last time was so devastating. She's got some severe trauma around confessing and connecting with love interests, as she assumes they're always going to mock her in the end.

I really wish this episode had been planned earlier in the series, because it DOES give good insight as to how bad Marinette had it, and would've been great context for the audience. Not long after, Socqueline had to move away, too, so Marinette had to rebuild her entire social network from the ground up, with several people in the class who didn't mind humiliating her for their own amusement.

Also I really liked Chat Noir/Adrien going sicko mode on Kim. PLEASE kill that boy Adrien. I am BEGGING YOU. He tries to cataclysm Kim in the fucking face. I was thrilled. I thrive off negativity

Using this as groundwork in the dad villain au, having all that shit happen to Marinette alongside losing Sabine essentially made her go "wow I am going to quit school and work at my dad's business. bye" which is super ironic because that is ALL gabriel wants adrien to do lmao

[ineedjesusverymuch]

Diabolik lovers headcanons pt. 3 (even more stuff)

Hi, it's been a while, no? Even though I feel a bit like I'm screaming into an empty void, I do enjoy writing my thoughts down.

The Diabolik Lovers fandom gets smaller and smaller and since just a few blogs are active, I wanted to post more! I know that without Rejet producing more content (that is canon and not "just" new merchlines, even though I deeply love the art), the dl fandom is bound to shrink. But: now, there are a lot of very respectful blogs, which I do enjoy! The toxicity just shrinks a lot on smaller fandoms. And I really love that no slander of Yui is happening!

Now, lets get into the headcanons after my short ramble.

I won't write anything nsfw this time, just a quick psa.

⚠ I'll try to mark anything that could be triggering with this: ❗trigger warning ❗

⚠This post will briefly discuss topics like: parental trauma and childhood trauma.⚠

The topics in this post will be mostly happy or cute (?), asks are always appreciated!

As always, I'll try to be at least a bit true to canon. But... Well.

this time I did not just ramble about Kanato, I think I talked about Laito quite a bit though...

Headcanons under the cut ⬇

First of all: Shu.

Genuinely loves dogs (remember the scene with Yuma? The little puppy? Yes.)

All fluffy dogs are loved, just as all other dogs.

Loveslovesloves Golden retrievers and sheperd dogs. Likes big dogs a bit more than small dogs, more to hug.

Deeply hates toads. Not frogs, toads. He thinks they're quite ugly and hates how big they can get

Shu is Not dumb but being a little fuck by not-obeying-karlheinz's-orders-like-being-good-in-school

Has only socks with terrible obnoxious patterns, like the weirdest psychedelic shit? I'm talking about rainbow colored mushrooms on sunyellow backdrop and comical faces. (Ngl, it's a vibe)

Huuuuge crush on Yuma. He likes his long hair and the fact that Yuma doesn't try to lie to him. Shu likes honest people and Yuma with his blunt approach is amazing for him. Also, he is convinced that Yuma is very simple to understand, nit at all complicated like some other people.

Next in Line is Reiji! What a surprise.

Has a huge collection of Hand cream and lotion. He has those long, slim fingers and his nails are manicured so impeccable that they don't even look real anymore.

Wears only black socks. Its a hassle to sort them since some of them have different lengths or fabrics

Has pet rats. Definitely pet rats.

They're cute and all but he's named ever single one outrageous names like Berthold and Brunhilde, the typical old german names you'd read in very old books.

Reiji Is able to speak not only german, japanese and the demon language but can also speak latin (even though shu is on a much higher level), a bit of French and russian.

Would be the type to do things simply out of sprite. Shu once mentioned not liking blue curtains and now all curtains are blue.

Has an academic rivalry with Ruki. All the other students (including Ruki) think they're flirting, only Reiji is oblivious.

Next: our boy Ayato!

Hates bees with a passion.

Kanato once "gifted" him a box of bees out of spite (the little shit put the whole bee hive in that box), ever since then Ayato runs as soon as humming from a bee can be heard in a ten mile ratio. (Being outside is very exhausting for everyone, himself included)

Very much enjoys shows like Brigderton and say yes to the dress. Loves the drama and the intrigue.

Ayato actually? Doesn't hate his brothers??? He likes to bicker with them, especially his other triplets, but genuinely cares about them. He's just a bit too emotionally stunted on that front (thank you cordelia).

Likes not only takoyaki but also any type of japanese festival food. I'm talking about mochi, dango and tayaki, etc.

the type to have lactose intolerance and ignore it completely to seem "cool"

went on an ice cream date with Yui once and spent the entire night in the bathroom because he was too proud to say no

Actually wears makeup? I'm not talking about full-on glam but a bit concealer and eyeliner. Ayato has red mascara and omfg he looks so good with it???

Laito and he enjoy playing those multiplayer games for nintendo

He has an entire village on animal crossing that is managed by him and Laito together

Next in line: Kanato!

I have made quite long posts about him in the past so I wont elaborate on some things that I already wrote down.

Very skilled at makeup. Like top-level skill. Wears eyeliner, liptint or gloss and glitter under and on his eyes. Light blush is a must-have!

Can crochet and knit but is often too impatient to make bigger projects

Will hyperfocus on things like historical fashion and garments for weeks at a time.

Once was so focused on the black plague that he didn't drink blood for like five weeks and passed out until he was fed some blood

Gremlin.

Has a friendship with Yuma? They plant plants together and since Kanato (canonically) likes apples, Yuma will bring him some after plucking.

Kanato enjoys tea time with Reiji

Kanato also likes to gossip with Laito. Or more like: Laito gossips and Kanato sits next to him and munches on some sweets.

Huge crush on Azusa. (I went into more detail on that in earlier posts but I'll answer any questions on that matter! Feel free to send me asks or prompts!)

He and Ayato have both the same interest for old fairy tales and will read them together on those nights were everything just comes up again

❗Laito will comfort him when Kanato has nightmares and Kanato will be there for Laito, since they went through a bit if the same things even though Laito's was much more intense

Cuddle time with Shu

Quiet time with Subaru

Now Laito!

Can speak a fuckton of languages.

I don't care if its canon but Laito is like B2 Level of French. Is able to discuss theological matters is perfect french.

Can also speak italian like all the triplets but he's also able to speak a bit german, polish and romanian

Friends with Kou! ❗They're really good ffriends and can understand what the other went though. Laito stays often over night at Kou's and they spend the night watching funny movies (Deadpool is Laitos current favourite)

Laito enjoys comics. He likes Marvel and DC a lot!

We know that Laito likes crossword puzzles but like. He's so good at them it's almost frightening. Is able to not only do japanese ones but also french.

So intelligent???

Not only booksmart but also "people smart". He notices the smallest things on people around him, constantly analizes everyone. Knows a lot about medicine and psychology.

Loves learning new things.

Has immense knowledge about the universe, is able to name every single star sign on the sky.

in the games we often see Laito wear casual clothing. My headcanon is that he likes the sort of style skaters usually wear.

Really likes cargo pants since everything fits in all of the pockets

Wears oversized hoodies and shirts

Has those two piercings on his left earlobe but also has a lip piercing on the right lower lip and a septum that he got when he was bored

As soon as he's alone, he let's the perverted fassade fall down. He doesn't smile a lot actually, more along the lines of a serious face most of the time.

It took a bit for him to be able to drop that fake face of his in front of Kou and his other triplets but after some time he got used to not fake being friendly and perverted.

Dropped the infamous "bitch-chan" after some time, now uses Yui's actual name. The -chan stayed though.

Last but not least: Subaru!

has very soft plushies in his coffin

Loves those tiny fluffy bunnies. Lionheads especially!

Very gentle with animals.

Animals love him (#disneyprincesssubaru)

once tried to color his hair, it went horrible and his hair was a patchy muddy color for eight weeks

Wears eyeliner. The black, brush-tip ones

Long eyelashes. They genuinely look fake.

So pretty

Is naturally more fair and frail-looking than some other vampires so he tries to roughen himself up

❗Bruises his knuckles and bites his lips to look more dangerous. Even though the scowl he usually wears is more than enough to ward off anyone who wants to pick a fight...

Also friends with Kou (Kou really collects Sakamakis like pokemons)

Wears black nail polish but it chips off pretty fast due to the gardening Subaru does

Bonding time with Kanato is applying nail polish together

Enjoys playing pool and darts with Shu when his older brother has enough motivation

Knows he is fucked up from all the stuff with his mother and wouldn't be opposed to therapy (at least after some sweet talk from Yui... And a whole lot of promises for new seeds for his garden and a new set of black clothes)

Has a motor bike and it's his entire pride

Polishes it every week and has a lot of clothes for biking

Takes trips to somewhere when he's bored and/or annoyed by his other brothers

does not realize that Kou flirts with him every time they do something together (obliviousness lies in the family)

So! That's it? I guess? Sometime in the future I'll write about the Mukamis too, I promise!

If there's anything you'd like me to write about, just send me an ask.

And to whoever reads this: I appreciate the time you took to read my post and I hope you have an amazing day/night !

you are truly appreciated!

[sillygoofyqueer]

Please, oh mighty one, bless us with more jiuyuan crow Yuan content. I'm kicking my feet giggling everytime I read any of your additions. That guy so needs an emotional support animal, no matter what form it comes in.

Do you think crow yuan wld be attracted to the shinies in the bamboo hut? All the uselessly gaudy gifts the sect leader keeps throwing at him are finally coming in handy. But SJ is also super possessive of his items, so I wonder how that interaction will pan out? Would crows be the type to appreciate fine art and pretty colours in paintings, or are they just attracted to things that glow and reflect the light?

Also I'm just imagining crowyuan completely missing the bullying scene, then flying around until something shiny within the bamboo stalks catches his eyes, and he just finds a dangling guanyin there like ???

Does he take it with him? Does he realize it's the protagonist's jade pendant? Or does he just go, huh, how'd this get up here, and off in a nest it goes lol. Man, one of your previous posts talked about crowyuan just scattering his nests all over the peaks, and no one can touch them unless they want the wrath of god (SJ and thusly his enabler) upon them. And I just find it hilarious how inconvenient it could possibly be? Like imagine him setting up nests in the most inconvenient places on An Ding out of spite, and people just have to circle around it and try not to dislodge anything. Like, not all of them are on purpose across the peaks but man can it turn out to be a bit of a pain. And then ofc it can just be endearing the other times, with peak disciples recording the location of new nests and tallying to see which peak has the 2nd most nests (1st ofc always goes to Qing Jing)

I'm squealing over this reaction, I will bestow upon you what you seek. Shen Yuan is literally pulled into the Bamboo Hut after the sun hits the shinies through the window and he notices the glint from where he's politely making a nest nearby (so Shen Jiu won't be lonely!! God!). There is a slight pause of 'oooh, shiny! NO, THAT IS SHEN JIU'S- holy shit was that a ruby-' and then he darts into the hut (conveniently left open because SJ had to rush to deal with a rude visitor) to go poke and prod at the shinies. SJ returns to his hut after booting Liu Qingge (who wants to show SY a cool monster he killed) off his peak, to find the source of his headache holding a random gold trinket close to his mouth (he can test the realness that way, he swears), frozen in place as he stares at SJ. Of course, SY is embarrassed and SJ is confused (and yet pleased - SY entered his house of his own accord). SY awkwardly hands over the shinies he has scooped up into his arms, apologising profusely about the instincts he has while SJ (although he doesn't care about them, they're still his) acts righteously offended by his the little thief and forces him to stay for the night as punishment - no nest equals punishment for the thief teehee. However, Yue Qingyuan sees how much SY likes shiny things and starts offering him little gifts because he wants him to feel comfortable on Cang Qiong Mountain- SJ is of the full mindset that YQY is trying to steal his bird and immediately gets pissed off. As if that loser's bribery gifts are any better than SHEN JIU'S!! He will not stand for such a thing, and starts shoving his gifts into SY's hands almost forcefully. SY has learned to appreciate the finery of things, which is his human side still sliding into his life, but the other crow demons are still working on that aspect. SY does most definitely just sees the fake jade pendant, bites it, and just goes "mmm, fake things <3" and drops it into his nest. Luo Binghe sees it one day and has to physically hold himself back from just snatching it right away, instead finding SY and breaking down into tears as he tries to justify why he should have it back. SY has already handed it back to him, but he feels the need to explain. SJ is super jealous to find SY coddling LBH in his nest like the baby birds he deals with all the time. SY WILL PUT HIS NESTS ANYWHERE, AND HIS NESTS WILL STAY THERE BECAUSE NOBODY CAN DENY THAT DEMON. He makes them everywhere: on paths because then he can still be social while chilling, in An Ding peak storerooms just because..., on the roofs of Wan Jian Peak forges because they're toasty, Bai Zhan Peak fighting grounds because cool entertainment, and Qing Jing Peak because SJ <3

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

part 1, part 2, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1.5k.

Katsuki knows you will not remember anything from this night tomorrow, since he sees how drunk you are. He’s sober though, and what you said has him thinking from the moment he leaves you on your bed, soundly asleep.

He’s always been a rude guy, he thinks people are too used to kindness to function properly in nowadays society.

To prove his (still standing) point, he opened the cafe when he was 18. He wanted to make something out of his life, and he knew he couldn’t do it without a steady income. Honestly, he opted for a cafe just because one day Midoriya said he couldn’t see him as a cafe owner. Basically, he opened it out of spite. So he bought the store from an old lady that was literally almost gifting it, painted it himself all summer, put the counters/chairs/machines that he bought all over the country (“if they’re good, cheap and they can ship them here, I can always fucking renovate them”) and he hired some of his frien- uhm, classmates, as his work subordinates.

They all just finished high school, so they all needed money. Todoroki and Momo weren’t even together back then. They had their little flirt moments, sure, but working together really strengthened their relationship. It made Katsuki sick to his stomach.

If Katsuki was something, he prided himself on being honest: he never said their paycheck was coming in late, or that they wouldn’t be paid. He did all he could to be the boss he wanted others to be happy about.

For the last 4 years things have gone pretty well. Kirishima was (and still is) a big part of this project, and Katsuki probably wouldn’t have come so far without his aid (even if he would never admit it).

Even if he was indeed the boss, he opts to never go himself at the cafe, since he likes to be behind the scenes more (also, even if he doesn’t know it, this is the reason why he doesn’t recognise you, even if you have been working there for 2 years). And maybe it’s also because seeing some of the people that stuck with him since the beginning makes him feel a tenderness that he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

And yeah, he was definitely still a rude guy. He just didn’t think he wanted to be nice to people, or, well, he knew he didn’t want to be. Things have gotten better since middle school, sure, and he now has friends who accept him just as he is, but he isn’t used to making friends. One day he woke up and he had friends. He always (jokingly?) said he was forced to be their friend.

But you were different.

At the time he met you, he was really desperate to find a place to stay in, since he had to be more and more present each day at the office. His old landlord was an ass and kicked him out since all of a sudden he wanted to rent each room of the establishment to a different person, and he remembers crashing at Kirishima’s place for two weeks while he was searching for a new apartment. You just happened to post that you needed a roommate the same day he was about to call his parents (yes, he was THAT desperate).

You were the 23rd person he visited in those 2 weeks. He was pissed out of his mind: 5 out of 22 people never got up to greet him at the door; 6 already had a roommate and they just wanted to sublet to make more money; 10 were living in such horrible conditions that he thought he got sick every time he saw a pile of old dirt in their home; 1 just wanted to have… some kind of intercourse… since they saw his photo on the booking app.

And when he saw you opening the door of your house with sleep still covering your features, he was about to turn around and really call his old folks. He was tired of this shit.

But you still managed to smile, even if he noticed how your eye ticked slightly when you clarified that he was indeed early after he pettily said that he waited for you for 15 minutes. Also, that remark was probably what made him stay. He didn’t want a weak extra as his roommate, and his more-than-good sixth sense was saying that you were indeed capable of holding your ground.

He does find you incredibly annoying, though. You have this aura of softness he doesn’t like, but that he is drawn into. He is a pretty silent guy when he is in his personal space, while you like to talk about whatever you have done a certain day, or about your new trashy show, or the new recipe that you saw on IG that he “absolutely has to try”. You basically yap all day long, and it gets on his nerves. Badly.

But he also enjoys your company. He’s very loud when he’s with his friends, being as naturally angry as he is about anything, but your softness rubs on him the wrong way, and it makes him stay silent. Well, he knows this is what he tries to tell himself, anyway.

He doesn’t want to admit to himself that the way you want to be his friend puts him in the awkward position of not being able to reciprocate your efforts. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, it’s that he doesn’t know how to, and he hates not being good at something.

And so, he distances himself. Even if he does watch you from afar, and even if he did notice a lot in the 4 (almost 5, “fuck rent is due tomorrow”, he thinks) months you have lived together. For example, you’re super easy to please. When you have a bad day he notices that you brighten up if he cooks both of you dinner (which really isn’t a hassle for him, even if he says so) instead of making you cook for yourself. Or that if you have a pretty tiring day at work/uni and he “accidentally” leaves some coffee in the pot before his morning run the next day, your eyes twinkle a little bit more when he comes back home.

He’s not used to being so close to someone who tries their best to be happy anymore. The last time he was that close to someone happy, he started to be a bully (yes, he did say sorry to Midoriya. Multiple times. Mostly when he sporadically got drunk in high school).

Your outburst gets him thinking because, after all, you’re a really good fucking roommate. He’d hate to have to search for another apartment because you get sick of his ass.

Most importantly, some part of him likes how different you are from him, and he doesn’t want to be rude when he knows you’re just trying to make him like you. But it’s second nature to him. You’re too pure in that sense, and he wants nothing to do with that.

He doesn’t know how to say sorry, just like he doesn’t know how to change things. The fact that you won’t remember anything and even if you will you probably would just shrug it off just makes him believe that it’s not that big of a deal.

After all, if your roommate still pays their rent and acknowledges you as a human being, what could possibly go wrong?

“Fuck, my head is killing me” whines Ochaco while you escort her out of the door.

“We really have to stop getting drunk” you sigh, while rubbing your temples. “You have Midoriya picking you up, right?” you ask your best friend.

“Fortunately yes. Say hi to your roommate, I don’t think we had the chance to meet yet” she responds.

You raise an eyebrow before saying “you don’t think?”.

She shrugs, before adding “you never know, this town isn’t that big. Maybe I’ll find out that, I don’t know, he used to be my boyfriend’s best friend or something like that”.

You laugh, “you read too many novels”.

A car parks right in front of your door, and a guy with green curls walks out of it.

“Hi! I’m Midoriya. You must be the best friend Ochaco always talks about” he says while putting on the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a human face.

“Hey, that’s most definitely me. Take good care of her, okay?” you reply with a smile of your own. “I have to get back to my thesis, but we have to meet each other again soon. Drive safely!” you add, while he gets her purse on his shoulder and gets the door of the car on her side open.

“Thank you so much babe. Don’t stress yourself and text me!” your best friend says before Midoriya nods at you and starts the car.

You get inside of your house again.

You and Ochaco just woke up, so you still have to eat breakfast.

While you get near the coffee machine you notice a scribbled note on the counter.

“Left coffee 4 u. u'll need it. also, rent is due. -K”.

You smile and roll your eyes, pouring the coffee into a cup while opening your text messages app.

You: you could’ve texted me, you know. Thanks for the coffee.

Bakugou answers almost instantly.

Katsuki (roommate): wtv.

[residenthughes]

once bitten, twice shy

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 3.8k (yippee!)

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, mentions of vomit/sick and alcohol

summary: house parties can be a strange place. they can be even stranger when you're about to throw up and have to argue to use the bathroom with a certain blue eyed, blonde haired boy too.

notes: my baby! so glad to have finished this! <3 i started writing this pretty much after my last fic (which received so much love, thank you so so much 💗) and finally came together after i went out myself, hehe. have deadlines/exams coming up soon so i'm not particularly sure how much i'll be posting on here until mid june, so mayhaps consider this a gift for not posting then? 🥹 haha, love u all and hope u enjoy!

You enjoyed a good night out once in a while. Your friends and yourself dressed to the nines as you dance the night away with liquor tainted lips and all the freedom in the palm of your hand. It was a great escape from the pressures of endless coursework and constant group meetings. You enjoyed a good house party, too. However, you hadn’t had much luck with those ones. Despite the smaller crowd it drew, the handful of new faces had you anxiously gulping away at your alcohol, ultimately leading to cringe-worthy videos your friends would show you the next day. Based on this, you should have known better - should have politely declined when your friends suggested attending her classmates’ house party and spent the night maybe regretting it. In spite of the myriad of reasons, the past week had been dreadful beyond words and it was an opportunity to wear your latest going out outfit. It was near impossible to say no.

So, here you are. Having the time of your life with friends, dancing under blue flickering lights and letting the night take you away. Well - that’s what you were doing. What you are doing now is desperately trying to find the toilet - your stomach was already uneasy due to the nerves of meeting new people at the party, so you’re sure the sugary drinks added to the alcohol in your system didn’t help either. You felt queasy and an urgent need to relieve yourself, still to no avail. The downstairs bathroom was occupied, so with the sickly feeling travelling up your system, you barge through the mob of people littering the hallways, hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to keep whatever was coming up down.

At the end of the upstairs hallway, your friend’s classmate explained there was an additional bathroom. You’ve never been more relieved to see anything more in your life. Without knowing it, you’re making a mad dash for it, bumping shoulders and mumbling a thousand sorrys. You’re a sight for sore eyes, you know you are, but with the pressing urge to not have witnesses to your untimely projectile vomiting, you really couldn’t give a damn.

You’re so happy to have found the bathroom, even if it may have also been occupied that your eyes miss another figure aiming for the room too. It’s only when your hand reaches for the doorknob that it’s shielded by another hand. Large and comforting. Your eyes search for the source.

Amidst the darkness that permeates the hallways, the blue mood lights provide glimpses into the mystery of the shadowy figure with gentle hands. His face, ivory in colour, is all slopes, features sharp and striking. His cerulean blue eyes framed by the length of his long eyelashes and dirty blond hair makes your heart stutter messily in your chest. For a split second, there is nothing you can do but stare in awe, the tall tales of infatuation spinning your head dizzy.

“Shit, did you wanna go first?” His voice sounds like a siren, sweet and melodic all at once.

With the countless thoughts zooming through your brain, you’re certain any words that would filter through your lips would be nothing except incoherent mumbles. You settle for a nod.

“Uh, hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I needa go too.” His hand is still over yours and if not for the terrible rumble in your stomach, it would have been swept off your feet, along with the sickeningly sweet pet name he gives you.

“Maybe try downstairs? I’m sure it’ll be free soon.” This is the first time you’ve spoken during your brief conversation. The quick raise of the handsome stranger’s eyebrows encourages sheepishness to gnaw at your skin, the pink hues of your cheeks deepening.

“Ocupado, ‘m afraid.” he grins with a sliver of teeth, facial expression moulding into the awkwardness that starts to circle itself around the two of you.

Your hand turns the doorknob faintly and you catch the desperation that flashes in his eyes at your actions. If you weren’t about to soil your new top with stomach acid, you would’ve let him go first, bashful as ever as you hoped you would find him later on in the night whilst hoping he’d spare you another glance. Nevertheless, that was not the case.

“I’m sorry but,” you gulp, trying to keep whatever was coming up back down. “I really, really, really need to go, so…”

He’s stubborn. Stubborn as an ass apparently, because his hand still remains on yours. “Of course, but equally, I need to go as well. Surely, there’s like a sink or something I can go in. I’m really desperate.”

You can’t help as you wrinkle your nose, your patience wearing thin. You literally have to be sick. Why is this not being addressed? “Can’t you just pee outside? Guys do that all the time, don’t they?”

“I’m not an animal, you know.” the handsome stranger argues, and your eye twitches.

How did you end up arguing with a good-looking guy outside a bathroom at a house party?

“I’m not being funny, but if you don’t move, I will throw up all over you.”

“I’ve been meaning to go for an hour now. Can’t we make some sort of compromise?”

You were at your wits end. “As if, you fucking masochist! I’m going first!”

And you do, barging into the blindingly white room with all your might and making a beeline for the toilet. A heavy sigh sounds behind you as you heave into the toilet, bracing yourself for the ugly sight that’ll swim before you.

You hear a zip being undone and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Surely, you’re not…?”

“I told you I needed to go.” the voice comes from the shower beside you. The world spins. House parties fucking suck.

You opt to fully exit your bitter discussion, focusing on ugly turns in your stomach. Your hair circles your face and you curse yourself for not having tied it up beforehand because obviously, it was going to–

It flows out of you. Swiftly and without much difficulty. You lunge forwards into the toilet bowl as the vomit empties out of you whilst the shower runs briefly, followed by the sink.

You just wanna go home.

“Hey,” the call for your attention is docile, the boy’s voice more sympathetic now. “You got a hair tie on ya?”

At this point, you’re on your knees, throwing up your early dinner in front of a boy you bad mouthed because you both wanted to use the bathroom at the same time. There’s no point in being shy now. You want all the help you can get.

You manage to shimmy the hair tie off your wrist and hand it towards his vague direction. For how unacquainted you two are, you move in great harmony as the boy grabs the hair tie and captures all your hair with ease whilst you busy yourself with other pressing issues.

When he’s finished, hair away from your face and in a low ponytail, the warmth of his hand settles against your back. The tears brimming in your eyes fall into the toilet bowl, body still before slow caresses have you melting into the palm of his hand.

“I…I know one of the guys that lives here,” he volunteers, tone unsure. “I’m sure he won’t mind you using one of his spare toothbrushes underneath the sink.”

You only manage back a groan, the icky feeling of humiliation creeping up on you as you continue to exhale into the toilet bowl.

“I’ll be back.”

And the man who peed in the shower leaves. Ok, that was rude of you, he did just help you when you were vomiting in spite of not knowing you. You should have more compassion for him, instead of lashing out at him out of embarrassment. When he gets back, you should thank him for all his help and hope to never see him again. You didn’t think you could live comfortably with yourself if you ever saw him again.

The faint thumps of typical party hits hammer beyond the bathroom, pouring in briefly when the man comes back into the room. By this point, your stomach has settled and you’ve flushed the toilet, yet your head still remains somewhat in the toilet because you couldn’t bear to come face-to-face with the guilt wrapped up in the form of a handsome, kind stranger.

“He said it’s cool, just open the new pack in the grey caddy.” You hear joints crack besides you before there’s a pat on your back. The comfort it brings is enough for you to swallow your pride. “Also, there’s some water next to you. Figured you wouldn’t want to go looking for it.”

Regardless of the ever growing shame that wants to drown you into a sad shell of yourself, your heart swells. The unprompted kindness offered from the stranger is refreshing, you wish you could tell him how grateful you are for him without your shame keeping your head in the toilet bowl.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, wincing at the cringing sensations that course through your body. “Sorry for calling you a masochist earlier.”

He huffs out a bout of laughter and your heart feels lighter. “In all fairness, I was pretty crazy for holding it for that long, so I don’t blame you.”

You hated how you’d have to avoid this man after you two left this room. He was sweet, polite and made you laugh. Why did you have to meet under such ugly conditions?

“Thank you,” you exhale, feeling your heart bloom with the warmth he radiates. “Really.”

“No prob,” he lifts his hand off your back and suddenly, you’re cold again. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen. If not, probably fucking it up on the dancefloor.”

You mumble another thank you after the laughter that leaves your lips, the blue-eyed stranger exiting and leaving you to clean yourself up as ponder on his kindness for a little longer than necessary.

-

You manage to sneak past the kitchen without bumping into the kind stranger. If you weren’t embarrassed before, the embarrassment catches up with you now. Outside, where the cool October wind blows, you’re perched on a step of the back porch, curled into yourself as you breathe in and breathe out. Things could have been a lot worse. You could have thrown up all yourself, delirious and none the wiser as nasty spirited individuals videoed the spectacle, not intervening even once. You could have been in a worse state in front of the stranger, vomit embedded in your hair as you wailed to call your friends or to go home. It could have been so much worse, yet here you are, rocking away as you will yourself not to cry.

You blame it on the emotional turmoil that’s plagued your week. Your academic and interpersonal affairs bore a burden like never before, pushing you beyond your means countless times this week and eventually, as you self soothe in solitude, you succumb to their will. Your friends are worried sick, searching every inch of the unfathomably large house to find you. You shoot them a text, notifying them of your safety and the privacy you seek. With dozens of texts that express reassurance, you let out a sigh before the music playing inside is too good for you to ignore.

Call it foolish, but it’s the nostalgic sounds of 00s’ dance that help you pick up the pieces. Assist in the carefree attitude you adopt that leads you right back inside, finding your friends and changing the course of the night.

If only you knew your carefree attitude would have you right where you once were. Face to face with the handsome stranger, the ends of an empty beer bottle pointed towards you two as bystanders ooh and ahh.

“Get in there, Leon!” a friend - you assume - hollers, slurring his words as he lazily drapes against Leon’s rigid frame.

You two exchange a look, eyes seeking any kind of communication that would hint at what the future held.

Your hand is given a squeeze and suddenly one of your friend’s whispers into your ear. “He’s cute, go for it.”

You crimson. At her words and at the fact that your next encounter with Leon has come so soon. Relentless is the sensation of dread and cringe as it sinks into your bones and buries you into the ground. All eyes are on you and you want nothing more but cringe? Disappear? Run away? There’s so much going on in your head right now.

A hand is outreached. It’s as if a lifeforce beyond yours comes down to save you, extending their hand to sail you away to safety. Alias, it is nothing but a figment of your imagination as you peer up, eyes sparkling as Leon’s tall figure towers over yours. For a second, you can’t read his facial expression, can’t comprehend the logistics of your predicament. However, when the edge of his lips curl upwards, pleasant and mellow in nature, there’s a sense of relief that starts to wash over you.

“Ready if you are.”

He has a way with words. He must have. Otherwise you wouldn’t have felt so comforted on that bathroom floor, otherwise you wouldn’t be in some confined closet, little to no light with the same person you threw up in front of.

“Well,” he starts off after a minute or two of silence. “This is…”

“Awkward.”

A cough is followed by silence. Then laughter.

Out of all the people at this party, the universe had to fabricate yet another meeting with Leon. The guy who you basically cussed out in order to use the bathroom. The same man that after washing his hands, held your hair up for you and soothed your sickness with a gentle back rub. There is nothing more you want to do right now than crawl out of your skin.

“You feeling a bit better now?” Leon’s voice is hushed when he talks to you, gentle and filled with unexpected care.

Despite the awkwardness of your situation, you can’t help disregarding such lame state of feeling as you lean into his kindness. “Yeah, I had a bit more water and was outside for a bit, so I’m pretty much sober now.”

Your fingernails dig into the flesh of your palm. A nervous tic. “Thank you. And, sorry.”

Leon appears to relax into the flow of conversation, moving his body to lean against the wall of the compact closet you find yourselves in. As he shuffles, notes of smoky vanilla waft in the air, Leon’s cologne finding its way to you. The smile you hide behind a closed fist is all kinds of bashful, body drawn to the intoxicating nature of the fragrance.

“I wasn’t terribly nice to you either, so think of it as making amends,” his hand extends forwards, bridging the gap between the two of you. “Truce?”

Amusement tugs at the ends of your lips, humoured by the hints of unseriousness that seems to be a recurring theme in your story. Going from badmouthing one another to being shoved into a tiny closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven and forced to call truce. It’s the kind of bizarre story that hangs in the air after a night out, disgustingly hungover in bed as your friends jam into someone’s room and recall the night’s events.

“Truce.”

You shake on it, pulling away when the flutter of your heart tickles your chest.

Through the dim sliver of marmalade orange light that peeks through the bottom gap of the door, you catch glimpses of Leon. The sharp slants of his jaw, the heavy flutter of his eyelashes, the sheepishness of his smile - all lopsided and accompanied the hues of strawberry jam red. He’s trying his best and it’s endearing. As is he. Charming and caring, a little silly yet undeniably sweet. Perhaps your perspective on him is a bit skewed due to the remnants of alcohol that float in your system, but if you happened across the same dirty blond, blue eyed boy on campus, you know your heart would still beat the same.

“Three minutes!” Someone yells beyond the door, prompting an uptake in your breath.

Never too forward, Leon draws closer to you, hands to himself as he suggests, “We could just head back out, if you’d like. I’m sure they’re not gonna be too up their asses about it.”

You don’t miss a beat. “I don’t want to.”

You’re both caught off guard. Your eyes widened and Leon’s eyebrow raised. It’s as if you’ve been exposed, barenaked for all the world to see your secrets. In itself, your response isn’t the strangest. Anyone would assume after calling truce, your allocated time meant to be spent together could foster the beginnings of a friendship, a friendly conversation. Even so, Leon and yourself were getting ahead of yourselves - reading in between the lines, sifting for something that was there.

“I mean,” the wardrobe is suddenly indescribably small, the surface of your cheeks warming as your eyes dart all over the place. What is going on here? “We could always just talk or…”

“Or what?”

Leon’s being mean. He knows he is. But, he can’t help himself. Jumping the gun, clawing at any and every opportunity to be close to you. Leon spotted your figure earlier during the course of the night, eyes capturing the shimmer in your eyes and bounce of your hair as you happily twirled your friends around on the dancefloor. You were simply magnetic, doused in dazzle and delight as your glittery makeup highlighted your timeless beauty. Leon would’ve approached you, winning you over with his charm and foolish dance moves - but he needed a drink. A drink which became two, two which became three and ultimately he broke the seal, landing him on a collision course with you outside the bathroom.

This isn’t how he imagined meeting you.

Nevertheless, you were together and despite the not-so-great circumstances presented, Leon made the best of it. Helping you and being the gentleman he is. And even if you never saw each other again, he would still remember you for all the shimmer in your eyes and just how infectious your smile was.

Now, under more favourable conditions, he doesn’t want his time with you to end. You’re just as captivating up close, if not more. Timid yet so sweet. Leon gets lost in you - lost in the details of your hair, your voice, your eyes. He wonders if the longer he prolongs your conversation, the sooner you’ll see his attraction towards you. Hopes you’ll reciprocate, hopes you’ll see it too.

“I don’t know.” You settle for, casting your eyes away from Leon as you twiddle your thumbs.

You want to be close with Leon, maybe kiss him if you could. But, you just don’t know. He’s seen you at your worst, sick in the toilet without a thought behind your eyes. You’re still embarrassed - even if Leon makes good work of fending that off. And perhaps because of that, along with other complexities, you want to be close with him.

If only he’d let you.

There’s a huff of frustration before something knocks your shoe. You look, examining Leon’s tired Converse shoe that nestles against your own pair of shoes. Your heart stills.

“I saw you earlier,” he starts, standing tall as he inches closer towards you. His pools of blue know only the sight of your lips, pink in hue and supple with lipgloss. He briefly looks away for his own good. “You looked really good on the dance floor.”

The gravity of your current reality settles in quick. Leon’s with you. Initiating everything and bringing this whole charade to a close. Your instinct is to wrestle with the reasons why, question his intentions and ultimately, take a step back. But, you’re exhausted. You’ve done enough mental gymnastics to last you a lifetime. You know you want this, so why can’t you have it? The answer is clear now. You take the plunge, hands grasping onto his backarm as you test the waters. “You think so?”

You’re gazing into each other’s eyes now, nowhere to run or hide. Leon hums in response yet still searches for something in your eyes - a glimmer of hope, confirmation to proceed and gets it in the form of you leaning into him with the bat of your eyelashes. His arms circle your waist, hesitant at first but solid in their place on the small of your back. You’re already seeing stars.

“Leon?” your voice is barely above a whisper, forehead pressed against Leon’s as you grow impatient.

He hums in reply. “Can we? Can we-”

“Can we kiss?” he says this, lips brushing up against yours. You grip his broad shoulder extra hard incase you buckle at the knees.

“Please,” you only manage to get out before your lips connect.

Leon shows you just how much he wants this, how much he wants you in his kisses. Gentle yet firm in his desire, his lips envelope yours in a way that sets your heart ablaze. Your brain short circuits, the sparks soaring between the two of you insatiable as you melt into each other. Your hand falls to brace yourself against Leon’s chest, the accelerated patter of his heart vibrating against your palm. You can’t help the smile that blends into your kiss, opening an invitation for Leon’s tongue that glides against the flesh of your bottom lip.

“Time’s up!”

His teeth plunge into your bottom lip lightly. You separate with a whine.

There’s a moment before the door opens, time where your eyes scan over Leon to gather all your thoughts and take him in. His pupils are full blown, his arctic blue irises submerged in the dilation of his pupils, lips plump with need and breath laboured. He looks far away, as if he is immersed in a dream that’s too good to be true and judging by the smile that graces his face, you’re sure you look the same.

“Need a mint?” Leon’s all jokes, smile giddy and besotted.

You roll your eyes in response, playfully jabbing his hard bicep with a closed fist. “Says the one who stuck his tongue down my throat.”

“Guilty as charged,” he holds his hands up in surrender, eyes giving you their undivided attention. “Wouldn’t mind doing that again though.”

He punctuates his point with circling his arm around your waist, drawing you in close before placing a delicate kiss against the flushed skin of your cheeks. It’s shameful how much you like this guy already.

“You’re disgusting.”

The door opens and you leave the closet happier than you ever were before.

[artfightdramaconfessions]

And really, the only way for me to respond to that? I can't fight fire with fire. So I'll just hide all my old OCs instead, and bring in a new batch just to spite em <3. Also considering not attacking those on my hitlist who draw early. Just a thought :). And very easily, you can tell if someone's been prepping for attacks if, in the first second of the website going up, you upload a high quality piece that you couldn't have made in 1 minute. At least hide your shit better if you're gonna cheat

please touch grass it's not that deep -edit There were additional parts: "anon who does not care about getting free art here! Just thought that you needed an OC to join artfight, so I really dont care about getting art. I just wanna draw other's characters in the set time limit. It gives me much more joy. And I'm going to enforce the rule my way XD. And to those who say that people wanna prep: it's one week. Isn't one week enough to save images? Some may even argue it's enough to do some art. I bet mod is an early art maker. How does it feel to have no intergrity?" "Adding onto that, the reason why I hate people drawing early in artfight is that it's disingenuous. You're not actually drawing my OC in the month of artfight. So why then? Why post it on artfight instead of gift art on another website? Just for the points? And to all those people who say that 'they don't have time' motherfucker my summer break ends in June. There's no summer hols in July unlike for the rest of the world. I have a more reasonable excuse to start drawing early and I'm not." "Because guess what? I have integrity bitches. I do the right thing even when no one's looking. And if you can't even do it for a simple art trading game that I'm not trusting you with my pets. Secondly, starting early ruins the spirit of artfight. Why submit it to the website that's only for every July? Why not do a yearly art trading game then? 'But oh anon, people will get burnt out' then what are you doing before July???? I have so much more reasons as to why I hate people who start early"

[gumi-writes]

a knife, bladeless

source: touchstarved

wc: ~1.4k

summary: there were two main rules when it came to dealing with monsters.

contains: vere-centric with some implied verexoc / canon-typical violence / kudos to my wife for the headcanon that if you spend enough time with vere he will at some point vibe check you by stabbing you / is it rude? absolutely. is it unfair? 100%. but that’s just monsters being monsters babey / this turned far into far more of a character study than i intended it to lol but i just love my bitch ass girlfriend so much <3 /

author’s note: if it were up to me vere would always be malding (affectionate)

It should have annoyed him. Or rather, he should have been more annoyed—enough to be spurned into action, or at the very least full of biting words as opposed to biting them back. Vere had certainly cut people off for far less, a nonzero sadistic streak enabling him to find a particular enjoyment in reminding others when they forgot their place. You could even accuse him of it being one of his hobbies and have that accusation be warranted.

So why was Tiên still slumbering peacefully in his bed?

These days, Vere finds himself watching her sleep.

Not, of course, in a manner most crass—contrary to popular opinion, Vere wasn’t as gutter-minded as many seemed to assume. Something which—while certainly a common misconception, was also one he never felt the need to correct. Why amend when he could weaponize instead?

If people were desperate enough to slip a honed blade into his deft hands, a hold so accustomed to the craft of using that it could be done with effortless ease—then why should he bother denying them?

After all, a show was a show, and Vere wasn’t in the habit of missing out on free entertainment. Not if they were offering themselves, and that was almost always what it was—fresh meat so eager for the taking that it gifted gleaming knife and bared neck alike.

The problem was though—

A steady heartbeat. Too steady, if you were to ask him. His senses were such that people could not hide from him, sharp enough to unearth the most buried of weak spots and expose the rawest of nerves—no matter how cleverly concealed it was.

—easy prey did not satiate him for very long.

It should have annoyed him. Or rather, he should have been more annoyed—enough to be spurned into action, or at the very least full of biting words as opposed to biting them back. Vere had certainly cut people off for far less, a nonzero sadistic streak enabling him to find a particular enjoyment in reminding others when they forgot their place. You could even accuse him of it being one of his hobbies and have that accusation be warranted.

So why was Tiên still slumbering peacefully in his bed?

Perhaps he’d be less vexed by it if it was a post sex occasion. If all the nights she’d decided to crash were post sex occasions. Because while Vere did not have a tendency of allowing people to stick around for that long in the aftermath, it would certainly make this all feel less… irritatingly saccharine.

But it wasn’t.

Eyes narrow. Fingers itch. It would have been a mistake to have called this allowance one of sentimentality—the vast coldness in his gaze revealed as much, completely devoid of anything fond. It would have been a mistake, but that it could have been made in the first place irked him. It was all so irksome.

The gall to not ask—to beg—for permission. The audacity of never reacting to anything normally. The absolute maddening cheek to somehow not be unbearable in spite of all the things he had to bear.

(‘Just kick them out,’ Ais had said, ever the poor sympathiser to his plight. Nothing short of absolutely shit for things like this, but he was one of the rare few that lasted long enough to hear Vere complain.)

Vere knew exactly how they’d react if he told them in no small words to beat it. The first thing was that they would indeed beat it—without any question. The second was that Tiên would not only not get embarrassed, but she’d likely never bring it up. Ever. And not just because the humiliation of retracing a misstep was one she wanted to avoid, but because it would have genuinely not mattered to her.

Which meant that without her to be the affected one, even his perfectly reasonable response would have felt an extremity—a loss of control where anything but a victory was unforgivable. Regardless of it being a matter of relativity.

He could have potentially justified it if she made for a poor bedfellow—a man of his luxuries and comforts that was exceedingly possessive of his own space, were Tiên to have been a poor sleeper, that would have been more than enough to make up for the previous, except…

Tiên does not move in her sleep. Her body temperature, the next thing that could have so easily been bothersome, also wasn’t, and in fact was something she could change on the fly, meaning that it was always infuriatingly perfect. His vanity, in one of the pettiest reasons of all, would surely have enabled him to call it quits if she was unsightly at rest—but he wasn’t granted that either.

And he’d tried to psyche her out. The last time she’d done this, Vere had taken a page out of her obnoxious novel and slept on top of her without asking. In what was a clear bid to make Tiên give him a single satisfying valid reason to get rid of her; were he to have awoken in the middle of the night that would have been it—

Instead, he’d woken up the next morning in what was evidently uninterrupted slumber.

Even now, the thought of it was a trying one. His only explanation was that it had to have been a miraculous fluke, but even that feels wanting when he was bereft of what felt a surefire win. To meet with such impossible standards, including a zero tolerance for his own discomfort even at the cost of—or especially because of—another’s… and to still surpass them…

Well, that didn’t sit right with him at all.

In the dusk of rose, barely blinking—a frigid chill grows all the more biting. What might’ve seemed a petulance ultimately boiled down to an immovably monstrous nature: an affinity towards discord and an aversion towards harmony.

Rule one was to remember that a monster was always a monster. Rule two—

Moonlight and shadow as the sole witnesses. Nimble fingers twitch in a call to action—where idle hands were synonymous with the devil’s tools; the watcher no longer content with just watching. He couldn’t be blamed, in the end. It was on her for letting her guard down. It was on him to teach her a lesson.  

—was to never forget rule one.

The dagger may as well have been slipped into his hand. A sleek, pretty little thing, gleaming steel a perfect fit for the space between Tiên’s ribs. She already looked the part he would have found triumph in, flat on her back with her hands neatly clasped, locks of ashen silver to halo her form—a most picturesque corpse-in-waiting if he’d ever seen one. At least she was good for something.

No remorse. No hesitance. Night itself seemingly darkened in a wicked embrace of blood-soaked sin; its silence a clear sign of approval—why else would it have carried the heady weight of a rapt audience worth putting on a performance for?

As easy as breathing.

As quiet as fallen snow.

Of course, it struck true. Of course, it slid home.

Of course, the buried, bladed evidence was revealed in jewel-encrusted hilt, one that stuck skywards and out of Tiên’s chest.

They hadn’t even cried out.

And yet—

A steady heartbeat. Still too steady. Always too steady.

Where metal met meat, a red slit simmered in something almost ponderous. A languid, near bubbling, as if the inner was deciding what to do with the intruder and it had all the damn time in the world to do so.

It’s clear, then. In the moment that should not have existed. In the imposition that should have been imposed in its place. Vere never strikes without the complete and full recognition of what that strike can and will do, but when he’s not afforded even a single drop—no crimson tear to grace the canvas of flesh, no crescendoed swansong to precede the final curtain—somehow, he’s not surprised.

Just like when the murder weapon…

…tips…

…landing onto its side—he’s also not surprised, either.

If anyone claimed that he was secretly hoping for it not to take, they’d surely have been corrected—if not by him, then by the world itself. Because it’s not relief that fills him when he can still hear that blasted beating organ, but neither was it hatred that had driven his hand in the first place.

By the time he retrieves the dagger, a wintry cool has settled within him. A quiet resignation, perhaps. Or at least an acknowledgment—of inevitability, of futility.

Of her.

She’d not been so much stabbed as her heart had become a blade’s cradle, up until it was eaten. Steel piercing flesh? A tale as old as time. Flesh swallowing steel?   

Vulpine ears had flattened. A sigh rises and falls. They hadn’t even done the courtesy of stirring, as immovable as ever—with her breast unburdened with the need of the rise-and-fall, she really did look dead. And while it was a shame that Tiên couldn’t follow through, by the time Vere comes back to bed, he’d already let her have it.

At the very least, if she complained about the pain, then perhaps it would be worth the cost of a knife.

What an utter waste, otherwise.

[l0stfoster]

I wanna know more about the harpies they interest me so deeply ‼️

HARPIES TALK TIME!! They're some of my favorites to think about. I'm gonna re-post the little bits of info about them from the original post ab Cursed here, just so this can be like a little collective master list of Harpy info :D INFO BELOW THE CUT BECAUSE I'VE LEARNED MY LESSON!!! If I add more info about harpies I'll likely edit this post

- All the greaser Harpies look out for one another. It doesn't matter if they're not from the same gang, or if their gangs have tension; you look out for one another. They may necessarily not be each other's flock, but it’s natural for them to stick together. - They flock together as much as they do because a harpy escaped Tulsa once, completely disappeared, and it set all the east side harpies into a panic. They can't leave Tulsa, so it's better to always have a connection to ensure you won't HAVE to leave. - The harpies love to play fight. They will absolutely beat the shit out of each other and then grab lunch as if nothing happened. All of the harpies have bird habits too. Most of them sleep on their stomach because catching your feathers underneath yourself when sitting up hurts. - Gifting culture and flock marking with feathers is a huge thing for them all. Almost all harpies have feathers from other harpies, though the symbolism with those isn't for flock marking and stands more as a general display of loyalty. - All harpies have an inherent aversion/fear of cats since felines are a pretty big predator to birds. Even harpies of birds of prey or the birds you'd traditionally see that go for cats have that built-in instinct to avoid. (Little fun fact, they're not fans of Umbra, and Paul abuses that. He has let Umbra gnaw on Tim's feathers before out of spite) - Not a single harpy can see glass, they're all victims to the DX windows. - Pretty much all of them can enter torpor willingly as well. Some do it more often than others, it's a preference thing. - Most of the harpies can't fly well in rain, it's just difficult in most weather conditions that aren't clear skies. However, bad weather doesn't stop them from trying; it just means there's an increase in broken bones and hurt birds for a day. - All of them can chirp, coo, whistle, copy voices, etc. Certain harpies are better at it, as the kind of bird they are makes it either easier or harder. The Shepards are a good example, being black vultures and all. Vultures don't have voice boxes and usually make low growling sounds instead of other noises. But since the shepherds are harpies and not full birds, they can make normal bird chitters and such but it’s raspy because they’re not really supposed to be able to make those noises. - They're very territorial by nature. - They generally don't eat bird meat for cultural reasons, but every now and then the birds of prey and scavengers do. It's sort of in their nature to be uneasy about it, though, and they're not fond of watching people eat bird meat either. - They all have hollow bones, so they're pretty damn light. - A lot of them affection bite. - One baby harpy gets adopted by pretty much any harpy in the proximity. Two's sister was a victim of every Harpy taking the chance to fly with her, preen her, etc. It's like that motherly thing where moms will whip around if they hear any child yell "mama", only it's that the harpies will be up and arms the second a baby harpy makes a sound. - On that note, though, the babies get bulled (lightly) for their goofy-looking wings. Mostly the ones who look like blended cotton balls as babies. Some baby birds are REALLY ugly. - They have a really good sense of smell and even better eyesight. I would not want one of them hunting me down. - Their talons are hella sharp and their nails usually get sharp as fuck too.

[venacoeurva]

...I know people in this day and age think any collaborative effort can fix things, often despite reality (ex. the MULTIPLE tumblr blackout protests over the last like 10 years across different owners of tumblr that didn’t change shit),

but I think going out of your way to buy things from tumblr en masse as a “well then they’ll be profitable and won’t have to change things to resemble profitable sites!” as if the CEO/higher ups are personally going to see this and not AT MOST just go “oh we made money, sick, Anyway.” is just. the most naive and frankly 5-year-old level of problem solving unrealistic idea if you think about it for more than 5 seconds. People are just so blinded by naive optimism it’s painful.

Staff isn’t going to see your purchases and go on a full redemption arc and restore porn in spite of payment systems’ massive stigma against it or Apple’s restrictions and never ever try to mimic Twitter or TikTok again, or whatever the fuck you’re expecting, they’ll keep focusing on shit tweaks that resemble other sites because those are what keep investors who think they know tech and user wants hooked and they think new people from other sites will come over for that instead of the fact these people are typically escaping those kinds of features.

Staff isn’t your friend, their vying for support like they’re your buddy who is hitting hard times and has been here holding your hand all these years is deliberate corporate marketing, they’re an arm of a corporation that spits in the face of LGBTQ+ people and especially black people for daring to post about themselves while touting themselves as The Queer Site! A diverse site! Look at this AMA we’re doing with someone about Black History Month! and you’re doing nobody a service when you’re unintentionally rewarding a service for getting worse because they will not know nor care about your motives, they just care that they got money and will continue making it worse regardless of you. They’re a corporation, not a small business ran by 10 people who are trying their best. People throwing money at Staff already encourages them, let alone when you buy into the weird parasocial shit they try with us which will continue as they see success with that method.

Like the mere idea of everyone buying the crabs to gift to make the site profitable is just unrealistic (especially in this economy with such terrible inflation and in NA there are issues with the weather and fires, on a site that mostly consists of groups of people who are typically low income or unable to work???), it feels very much like the gofundme pages people set up to raise money for celebrities who have debts who will be fine regardless and definitely don’t need your help. Corporations and CEOs are not your friends, they never will be. They do not care about you and they’re not some poor uwu victim of circumstance.

TL;DR half-assed blackouts aimed at companies that don’t care (that I have seen over and over) and “cr*b day” type efforts are incredibly dumb and will change nothing, and they will not change anything, just encourage them since they see they’re making money during their current marketing schemes, if they notice at all. You pitying them like they’re a poor innocent person is exactly what the corporation wants.

If you want to make a difference give that money to an artist or lgbtq+ people who basically get flagged as mature for Existing, or people who get their posts flagged for criticizing the site, or something, someone who gets screwed over by this site on the regular. It will do far more good than that whackadoo type pipe dream and sit down and think for a second, please.

[trashlama]

YAN!FUTURE!DONNIE X READER!!

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Heeeeeeyyyyy guess whose back!

This is a part of I guess this series of one shots I got going on. →This post can explain more←

This is the image I used for Donnie in this one. ↓

Art isn't mine but the design is radical!

Sorry this took so long. Honestly I almost didn't post it cause I didn't like how it came out. Like I kept trying to fix it to how I like it buuutt, this was the best that I could do. I might try rewriting it or somethin'. I was just trying to change it up buuutt, I suck. Did my best with the proof reading. Probably could have tried to proof read it more.

Honestly this fic is pretty dark. Originally was darker.

Please no minors, 18+ only!(There's no smut or anything sexual, just a lot of technically triggering elements)

The meme in this fic is not mine I just found them on Pinterest and they were too good.

Read the creator's notes below for more!

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Humming computer fans and diligent typing filled the silent void in the poorly lit room. If not for the obscured ominous glow of the various monitors littering the labatory you would've believed you had gone completely blind. Having already lost the vision on your right to the slimy pink tentacle bastards who transformed your planet into the living Hell on Earth.

Guess religion was right about something. At The End of Days the devil came for the damned. And in spite of your mother's faithful beliefs, there was never a savior to come swop away the righteous to the selective pearly gates of the Heaven she had mindlessly prayed to. She was wrong. Her savior locked her out.

There would be no salvation. Not for anyone.

Instead for the first thirteen years after the Krrang's invasion you suffered. Everyone suffered.

Shit hit the fan and it splattered like a chocolate pie in bad clown gag.

Overnight the world you had grown up in changed for the worse. Blind to the way society crumbled and turned into a Mad Max film. Unaware of the great loss. Naive and young you weren't prepared for the grotesque violence that replaced your boring mundane life that you had taken for granted.

How you wish there was a way to go back.

Return to days where your only worries were filling out job applications to move out of your mother's abode and getting into a good college. Begging whatever deities listened to accept you to one of the variety of schools you had applied for. Preferably one more than five hundred miles away from the run-down neighborhood in the Bronx you lived in. You've always wanted to travel the country and college opened up that opportunity to do so. Had everything gone according to plan you would've started your first semester that following fall.

Though it wasn't meant to be. Instead you spent that lonely winter, grieving

" (Y/n) "

At the call of your name the chain that hung from around your neck clanked as a single (e/c) orb snapped out of its routine day-dreams to look towards the owner of the tired deep voice that had called to you. It was Donatello. Said ninja turtle kneeling at your side next to the cot you both shared.

Within the nest of sheets you retracted from the curled position you had been laying in on top of the bed spread. A multi-paterned stitched quilt gifted by one of the softshell turtle's brothers— you forget who; rested at your feet, unused. Protecting thin (skin tone) skin from the piercing cold was a worn pair of faded PJs that consisted of a dark green long sleeve with fluffy grey plaid bottoms. The odd attire didn't bother you in the slightest. When living in the apocalypse fashion hardly matters. If it was usable it was wearable.

Despite of your efforts to block the aged mutant out by focusing your lone (e/c) gaze on soothing else. The Large cold hand of Donatello's petting the top of your head was all your traumatized receptors could focus on. Three lengthy jade digits combing rouge strands of unkept (h/l) (h/c) hair away from their position in your face. Wandering fingertips skimmed over your missing right eye. Playing with the white medical eye patch that kept the old wound hidden. Had this been seven months ago you would've already been trying to bite the technological General's scared appendage off. Though now at this point you just let the mutant do whatever. You didn't care.

The same regard was held when the purple clad turtle observed you. Anything and everything that flashed across your face was cataloged by your analyzing capter's dark narrowed stare. A common occurrence that never faltered in its repetitiveness.

Exhaustion dominated the aged jade complexion of Donatello's. His expression would be read bored if not for the controlled obsession that lurked in pools of night.

You always did like his eyes. Even when they were hidden behind the dual frames perched on his snout. One half a traditional prescription lens the other a crimson infrared optic that provided extra assistance to the current wearer. Like a moth to the flame you were drawn to the night sky he held in those dark pools.

"You're wasting the food Mikey brought you" the softshell flatly chastised. Those same magnetic dark eyes that had been locked with yours turned away momentarily to retrieve something from beside him. The tattered greyish purple cloak he wore tied loosely around his sturdy shoulders draped forward revealing the silver cybertronic mechanical substitute for his left arm. A necessary loss for the cause he dutifully worked for.

You hadn't respond to his comment.

For a moment you began to sink back into your land of memories if it had not been for the scrapping metal of the fork against the plate that was now in the purple bandana wearing turtle's grasp. Stabbing at the rations that the commissary passed out earlier that day. At least you're assuming it's day. It's hard to tell when you never leave the underground base, let alone the prison of Donatello's lab that doubled as his quarters.

Back in reality something moist pressed against your bottom lip.

"Eat."

Robotically you obeyed.

You learned a long time ago that starving doesn't work. It was this or the feeding tub. At least this didn't hurt your throat. The ache in your esophagus from the experience lasted for weeks after. Bile threatening to rise if you focused any longer on the nightmarish memory.

Up till the plate was cleared the mutant continued to feed you. Picking at the dish's portions until there was nothing left. After which the adult ninja turtle placed the cutlery to the side before taking a corner of his faded cloak to wipe away the food residue left around your mouth. Repeating the same method with the plastic cup that sat precariously on the table to the other side of you next to the cement wall.

For a moment his calculative narrowed gaze stared at you before deciding something.

"...I have to go work on the faulty pump in the filter for the hydroponic system in the Agriculture Unit later...." Thick brows frowed together in an unsure manner upon his purple-clad forehead as he continued. ".....would you be interested in joining me for the endeavor?" The aged ninja finally prompted.

You didn't respond.

Had this been seven months ago you would've replied with an immediate yes. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Back then you would've thought somebody, anybody, would help you.

But if that were the case you would've been free already.

It wasn't necessarily a secret that you belonged to the purple bandana wearing brainiac. On the contrary it was a well known fact amongst the inhabitants of the base. It was just an unspoken topic. An issue that the Commander and the rest of the generals much rather sweep under the rug than to confront.

You learned it the hard way.

You had managed to get away somehow after Donatello first claimed you. Before the chained leash that pooled around you became a permanent fixture. In its place there had been a small amount of leeway the softshell gifted you. A fragile trust you didn't bother to strengthen prior to your attempt two months into your captivity. Maybe things would've been different.

You had told Donnie you were just gonna go to the commissary and get them some lunch. Claimed you were trying to be a nice, good partner. You didn't want to disturb the important work you were so proud of him for. Like a termite at Home Depo he ate it up. A bashful smile stretched across his jade complexion that was burnt red.

Playing the serpent who tricked Adam, you slithered from the technological garden of paradise. Departing with a false display of affection. Pride filled you from the phenomenal performance you gave.

Taking flight to the wind you ran down the Resistance headquarters hallways. Without meaning too you lost yourself around the twist and turns of unfamiliar corridors. Your limited vision and even less knowledge of the section's layout not being of much aid to your mission. Especially since prior to your imprisonment you hadn't ventured to this area since it was restricted to Resistance officers way above your ranking.

Though your plan was to run into someone. Anyone who could help you. You were gonna rat out that purple techno creep. He needed to pay. You were fed up with this stupid apocalypse.

Eventually after sprinting down the halls for God knows how long. You found your self face first into the plastron of General Michelangelo.

"Wwhooo! Slow down little missy! You're gonna give this old man a scare!" The greying box turtle joked even though you weren't very much younger than him. Catching your charging figure easily between rough moss palms. Out of breath you began spewing your story. Begging the mystic mutant to help you get away from his crazy purple coded brother.

"Oooohh, so yoouurr (Y/n)..." The youngest general gathered. Aged face scrunching up in a contemplative way, as if he was thinking. For a moment you had thought maybe the mutant turtle knew who you were cause somebody had reported your missing presence. Realized that you had been stolen by one of the very leaders they worked under. Unfortunately that was not the case.

"Yes! I'm (Y/n)! Your brother Donatello, he—"

"Said that if you got lost to return you to him!~"

What.

It was too late to retreat. You didn't even have the chance to react before the orange clad General had you on the ground. Wind punched from your lungs by the sudden force. Mouth mimicking a fish out of water as you gasped for much needed air. Next thing you knew your hands were bound behind your back by the same orange bandana wearing mutant you sought aid from. Kicking and screaming as the moss green Hamato sibling dragged you back to where you had started.

Entering the lab Michaelangelo greeted his flabbergasted older brother. Sporting a wide cheshire grin as he released his grip on you to only then in the same motion push your unbalanced wobbly stature forward caching yourself on Donatello's chest. Leaving shortly after with some sort of fucked up quip you couldn't hear past the pounding in your ears. Heart jackhammering painfully against your ribs. The beat too powerful for any other sound to break it's dominating rythem.

Were you about to have a heart attack?A stroke? You couldn't tell. You didn't think people your age had them.

Once left alone the white hot fury you had expected never came. No beating. Nor any dismemberment of a limb. There were no threats made for your dire transgression. No shouts or screams of possessive anger. Only unnerving still silence.

Somehow that was worse.

You lied. You tried to leave. You made a scene with his younger brother only for said orange clad sibling to drag you back like the dog who got out.

The first ten–fifteen minutes you both just stood there. There were no excuses nor pleading from your part. Just utter overwhelming suffocating quite. The jade and purple tattooed complexion of the General's who stood before you was drained to match snow. Face displaying a composed, conserved expression to anyone who was looking in from the outside.

Unfortunately for you it was always Donatello's dark eyes that gave everything away.

Hurt. He was undeniably wounded by the injury. You broke the thin veil of trust he gave you. You could have done whatever you wanted. As long as you didn't stray far from him. Stayed and supported him. It was all he wanted.

The softshell was so happy when you forged that lie believing the act to be true. Believing that you cared about his health and work. Being kind and supportive enough to trek and retrieve both of your guys' lunch. Except upon his younger mutant brother's arrival the fantasy he was living in was broken. It was all a lie. You deceived him. Betrayed the tempered trust that two of you shared. A thin string you willing snipped.

Saltwater streaks poured down in silent bunches as the aged ninja turtle lowered his head. He really thought you had loved him as you whispered sweet claims from soft deceiving lips that kissed his heated cheek a farewell. Departing with that smile that made his heart race. Donatello was hurt. And so the turtle did the only thing that would hurt you just as much as you had hurt him.

Had you known what he was going to do maybe you would've fought harder than you had.

No words were exchanged as the mutant scientist tied your jittery limbs to your paralyzed figure. Plastic white ties zipped painfully tight around (skinned tone) appendages. Though fear hadn't taken it's full course until the softshell began to secure a thick fabric around your head, blinding you. Finding the immediate endless world of black frightening.

"Please— don't do this— I-I'm sorry!" You plead as large cold hands slide a set of what you assume are noise canceling buds into your ears. You couldn't catch your breath. Your heart wouldn't still itself as it fought for space within your ribcage. "Please! I— mphmfh!"was all you could cry before lastly a gag was stuffed into your teriffied jaws. Based on the texture of the rough fabric you deduced it was most likely an old gym sock from the clothing bin. The worn garment scratched at the roof of your mouth making you taste cooper.

Donnatello hadn't planned to use this method this early on but, this was a lesson that needed to be learned. He was going to deprive you of your senses. Leave you lost just as he would've been without you. Maybe then you'd understand.

For some time you were just scared shitless. Frightful of the purple coded general's unknown intentions. Was he gonna torture you? Kill you and keep the body? The imaginary list was much more scary than the actual first quarter of the punishment . Thankfully nothing happened. The turtle left you be. Probably just watching you from his typical spinny chair from in front of the large monitor dominating the room. The motherfucker probably felt like Batman or some shit sipping on his coffee as you the Joker— fucked around in the holding tube.

When the endless darkness started to pick at your already aggravated anxiety you had tried to force yourself asleep to escape the void. However you found the effort quickly fruitless. Trapped without sound or any background stimulation aside from the limited range of touch at your disposal made the task feel impossible. Dissolving lines between real and what was not becoming harder to differentiate with every passing unknown second.

Attempts to keep your sanity felt futile in spite of efforts to keep the screws forming coming loose. Clawed (skin tone) palms and curling toes only did so much. When all else failed you felt only one thing could be done. You need to feel something. Anything. You couldn't do this anymore. The scratches in your palms did not suffice.

Doing what you felt was your only choice in your spiralling panic. You began to throw yourself around across the lab's tile floor. Using your upper body and knees you inch worm around the room. Purposely banging yourself into anything and everything so you may injure yourself. Feeding your starved receptors with whatever painful sensations you could produce.

Donatello was quick to remove the suppressors once you really started injuring yourself. Most likely calling it when the various wounds littered your (s/c) skin began to form. Following the path you had squirmed eyes like La Brea tar pits found speckles of crimson decorating a variety of the objects in his workspace. As if a baby crawled around repainting his lab with dots of red.

What a pain. Couldn't you have just accepted the punishment like an adult? Now he was gonna have to clean up this mess later. But alas just as many great minds of science had taught him. There was always a price to be paid for results. Maybe he should've just thrown you into solitary or made a modification or two to your Achilles tendons.... Next time.

Cold hands without delay discarded the ear buds and spit soaked sock. Your chest was still rising too fast. You were gonna puke if you stayed any longer in the dark. Though once the blind fold was discarded the softshell turtle's concerned expression was the first thing you saw. The sight of another instantly calming the bees stabbing your stomach lining. A flash of worry glimmered in those pools of ink. Only for the emotion to be consumed by the sticky black tar that lurked beneath.

"Did you learn your lesson?" The purple tattooed turtle questioned softly as he scooped your zip tied bound form into his mix matched arms. Combination of flesh and steel cradling you as he maneuvered towards his cot. Donatello was aware that you have one too but, recently the color coded general had been considereing just having you sleep with him. It'd save him space.

"I doubt it." he chided with a small grin that didn't match his eyes as he laid you down. Tucking you into his barely used sheets.

You didn't bother to request for him to remove the plastic bonds as exhaustion dragged you into the realm of slumber. Senses finally relaxing thanks to some stimulation. Allowing the phantom hand caresse the curve of your cheek as you drifted away.

When you awoke your injuries were bandaged and the plastic that had restrained you was gone. In the zip ties stead was a steel collar and chain hooped around the deadbolt installed in the cool tiled floor of the purple brainiac's lab. The same device you wore to this present day.

"(Y/n).... (Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)....."

"(Y/n)"

Oh no you got lost in your memories again didn't you? Based on the softshell's expression, your answer would be yes.

"(Y/n)... I think you should come with me when I go to the farming unit. I think it'd be good for you ....and maybe we'll even see Leon and Casey Jr. " Donnie soothed. His large cold hand returning at some point continued to comb the wild flyaways that tried to elude his threading jade fingers.

You didn't care. You bobbed your head. Listening but, not particularly agreeing nor disagreeing to anything as you went along with the general's wishes.

°°°°°°

In the hallway you and Donatello walked side by side. Your collar and chain were gone. Left behind in the lab due to the bondage being bolted to the floor. Not very mobile. Which in turn left you shackle free for the trip. Seven months ago you would've already tried to attack the turtle like the wild dog you were. You had been.

Now the tamed rescue, you leapt and barked without hesitation when commanded.

Like a good pup you didn't stray from your master's side.

Traversing through the base with the lumbering mutant was a quiet affair. No one bothered the two of you as the purple clad genuis led the way.

Here and there the technological general would make small talk by commenting about certain functions found throughout the headquarters along the short journey. Explaining uses of faculties and tech that had been constructed long before you ever stepped foot in the Resistance headquarters.

Long before you ever met the softshell who kept you prisoner in his room. Like a toy a spoiled child didn't want to share.

Pushing open the floppy doors to the Ag unit; bright UV rays burned your sensitive retinas that grew unconditioned to direct sunlight due to the dark room you were trapped in on a daily. Although unlike you, Donatello's dark narrowed stare remained unfazed by the bright light. Not even a stinge of discomfort upon disciplined matured features.

Artificial warmth even if false still felt soothing on your cold (skin tone) skin.

How you missed the real thing.

Missed the stupid picnics your mother would force you on. Laying under shady emerald trees in the smothering New York summer heat under a bright blue sky. Pouting as you watched your mother and brother played on the playground. You used to think those family outings were a waste of your time when you could be hanging with your friends or studying. Be anywhere but with them. How foolish you were.

A small frown laced your lips as you recalled the more peaceful days.

"(Y/n) this way" Donatello's voice called from in front of you. At some point having grabbed your hand to pull you closer to his tall stature as he escorted the two of you through the rows of growing produce. The tips of his long purple bandana tickled your nose but you made no complaints.

"Donnie over here!"

Onwards he directed you along.

Off in the near distance was the blue clad Commander. On his shelled back was a raven haired child that looked no more than nine.

"Oi! Casey Jr can you please be un bueno niño(a good little boy)!" The leader begged as the afro mentioned brown-eyed boy tugged at the long tied strands to his azure mask. Tighting the fabric painfully around his head. Giggling at his guardian's torment. "Nah! This is so much fun el anciano(old man) " Casey cheered, showing off a wide chipped tooth grin. A recent cosmetic development much to Leo's jargon.

Back and forth the two went as you and Donatello approached the comedic duo. The softshell grown a small grin on his normally uninterested expression.

" Thank Gram Gram you're here Donnie! The pump to the filter finally said capoot! And—"

"Yeah I know that's why I'm here." The jade colored turtle cut off his Commander.

Leonardo didn't mind his brother's injection. Smile still present upon olive skin.

"Alright-o dear brother-o! I'll leave you to it."

As the two siblings continued to chat over the needed maintenance, the raven haired boy leaning over the lumbering leader's shoulder stared straight at you. Eyes like teddy bear plushies bore into your being as they watched. Wide and impressionable. Brown judging spheres.

You could feel the bugs scuttling under your skin again.

"(Y/n)..., (Y/n) are you listening?"

Breaking from the losing staring competition you were having with the nine year old. Knowing dark eyes like night drew your attention back to the mutant who was cradling your hand between his own odd pair.

Once the scientist was sure he had all of you here he repeated his directions. " (Y/n) I want you to hangout out here for a little while I work. The pump requires more attention than I had initially thought..." Jade eyelids closed for a moment as the mutant exhaled his stored breath. " ...if you need me you can ask Leo. He had said he and Casey had some things to do here for a bit anyways so he doesn't mind watching you."

You didn't care. It was just nice being outside that damn lab in general.

With the nod of your head Donatello allowed your smaller hand free from his mix matched grasp. " I'll be back soon. If you get too hot tell Leo and he'll take you inside to cool down." The turtle further explained. It was like he wasn't sure if he could depart from you. Even if he was only temporarily leaving you under his twin's supervision. He still didn't like the idea of not having you beside him as he worked. However the space in the room with the filter was limited. Although Donnatello would prefer to have you in sight. Genius does take a little finesse and he always performed best with space.

With one more glance the softshell turtle turned and left. Walking towards the small building far off in the corner of the massive underground green house.

Once gone you were left standing there. Unmoving like a puppet without it's puppeteer.

You guess you stood there for too long cause at some point the Leonardo approached and rested his palm on your clothed shoulder. Probably making sure you're still there before his olive palm spirited away.

Hands very much like Donatello's. Too much like Donnie's. The touch made you shutter. You hated it. You hated the jade turtle who did this to you.

Based on the Commander's look you could tell he wanted to ask if you were good. Though the question would be pointless when the answer was as obvious as the dirt that coated the thin fabric of your eggshell colored slip-on flats.

"Sensei why is that weird girl that General Donnie brought only got one eye? Is she a pirate?" Casey Jr inquired not aware of the offensive statement he constructed.

The blue clad leader flicked his retainee's forehead. Lightly punishing the child as he chastised the raven haired boy for the rude question. "Casey Jr that's not how we talk about people. Especially ladies. If you have a question you ask them politely. " The retainer informed. Dark onyx eyes too similar to that of his brainac twin's slid back to your cemented figure.

You were waiting.

With an awkward grin Leo proposed that you join him and Casey Jr on their check up on the Agricultural workers. You didn't respond, just nodding to whatever the aged ninja turtle had suggested.

Around the large farming area that had to be as big, if not bigger than old New York City's Grand Central Station. The red eared slider led you and Casey Jr around as he performed leader duties. The task not being that tedious if it wasn't for the raven haired kinder who wouldn't leave you be. The orphan kept asking too many personal questions for your taste. None of which you responded too. Though that didn't mean it stopped the nine year old from chatting your ear off.

For what felt like forever Casey Jr went on about, everything. There wasn't a single topic he stuck to. Bouncing from asking about how you knew General Donnie to do you always wear pajamas? What was your favorite food? Do you have any parents? What's your favorite game in the rec room?

The kid was gonna be the death of you if not the UVs that were starting to roast you. The faded winter sleeping attire you wore not necessarily the best outfit to be clothed in while under the artificial rays. Though you didn't complain. Didn't want to miss this opportunity to be outside of the technological General's lab.

You weren't ready to go back to the darkness. Not yet.

A single (E/c) colored orb found itself focused on the sudden opportunity presented.

You didn't have to go back as long as you did this right. You could be free. You couldn't fuck this up again. Not again. The anxiety of the looming punishment sat in the back of your mind. Giggling. A child-like tone mocking you for your thoughts of freedom. Reminding you if you escaped something worse could happen. Would happen.

Blood trickled down the (skin tone) surface of your chin. You had accidentally chewed your bottom lip to ground beef with your nervous tick, again.

Using the right sleeve of your pajama shirt you wiped away the oozing crimson fluid.

"Are you okay (Y/n)?" Casey's high but worried voice broke you from your scheming thoughts.

Looking down at Casey Jr's baby checks that had been holding a wide chipped smile instead thinned out into a tight frown. Wide brown orbs innocently peered up at you with concern.

For a moment you didn't reply.

Looking past the apocalyptic born child observing the interaction between Leo and the worker he spoke to. Gageing how much longer you had before the Commander returned from the discussion.

" I'm fine... but, ....do you think you could help me with something Casey? "

°°°°°°°

When his softshell twin asked him if he could watch (Y/n) while he worked on the hydroponic filter pump. The red eared slider was not gonna lie, he was not looking forward to the task. Already having his own gremlin running a muck the last thing the blue clad Commander wanted was a creepy-ass robot following them around.

However whenever it came to Donnie and (Y/n) being involved in the same situation there was hardly room for argument. Leo was the leader of the Resistance he swore that he'd do his best to help end this apocalypse and to do so he needed a functional base. That entailed having a controlled food supply, functioning weaponry, dormitories, facilities— the works. If anything was to go down. The blue bandana wearing mutant only has one reliable individual who could repair, design, modify— you name it. In less time than a whole team of engineers and mechanics he could whip up— combined. Only Donnie could do it. It's cause of the afro mentioned scientist and his inventions that the Krrang hadn't taken them out yet. The aged blue bandana wearing turtle wasn't actually sure how long they could fend off the pink tentacle armada without his softshell twin.

The thought keeps him on edge sometimes— what if the turtle passed or chose not to use his gift the way he does. They'd be screwed in the long run. The turtle imagines it would be similar to that of ant colony walking into a spider's nest. The carnage would be unsalvageable. They'd have to use the last resort.

He couldn't afford for shit to go sideways.

And sometimes if that meant sacrifices... for the greater good so be it. It was something the mutant leader wasn't proud of.

Leo isn't even really sure when the purple clad mutant even met (Y/n) or how. Donnie kept mostly to himself. Never straying far from his lab and a working coffee machine. So the fact the caffine addicted nerd met someone, let alone a girl. Truly made the phenomenon a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes.

He knew what he was doing when Donnie made his ultimatums. It was (Y/n) or no base. The softshell mutant was aware the kind of game he was playing. How it would affect everyone. So many would be lost because the adult ninja turtle wanted to throw a tantrum. Leonardo was ashamed but, it was necessary. He had to give in to the mad scientist's demands. The olive skinned mutant would like to say he had no choice— But he did. And he chose to keep the Resistance alive rather than allowing you to be free. He couldn't. Donnie wanted you and so you were the purple clad General's. There was no room for negotiations. The softshell was always stubborn like that. He played the odds in his favor. He'd let the whole base crumble if it meant he couldn't have you.

And for the last year, that was that.

Leonardo knew that Donatello was keeping you in his lab and that at some point over the last twelve months the workspace began to double as the jade turtle's quarters as well.

Only discovering the new development when visiting his purple color coded brother one day. The blue bandana wearing leader doesn't remember what he had gone to his sibling's work space for but, once inside he found the usual cluttered layout. However off closer to the far wall in the direct line of sight was the (Blonde/Brunette/Raven or Scarlet Haired/ Etc) tribute his brother had demanded for.

This had been when the (e/c) eyed woman still had her own bed. Though at some point after your escape attempt that had been thwarted by Mikey. He remembered because of the presence of the steel restraints that you typically wore when in Donnie's laboratory.

In the corner you were laying down. Hands obviously bound behind your back. The (h/c) haired captive probably scratched her neck raw again. His theory only confirmed upon closer inspection. Beneath the steel collar a dressing of white gauze. Though that wasn't the only injury. Like a Christmas present you were wrapped almost head to toe in the cotton bandages. Most likely caused by other attempts to break free from your bonds which backfired. Resulting in Donnie just further inhibiting your mobility.

Sometimes he doesn't understand why the softshell turtle did what he does. If he loved you, why did he let you hurt yourself like this? The technological General's plan was to rid you of your will. Like the mustang in stables he was gonna break that need to be free. You would be his. The aged purple coded mutant wouldn't accept anything less.

It was creepy how his sciencey twin doted on his feral captive. How even when discussing the condition of the base the crippled mutant still gravitates towards your curled up figure. In spite your attempts to chomp off his jade digits the Donnie still continued to glide his fingers through (h/c) strands. The action was bizarre to the red eared slider. He couldn't relate but if this kept the softshell from throwing the headquarters into the destructive hands of the Krrang. So be it.

Which brings Leo back to the current task at hand. Watching both Casey Jr and his brother's captive as he did his patrols of the agricultural production. He needed to start getting a feel of the ratio amount of crops so he knew how to plan for the Resistance's future. Winter was gonna be coming soon and scavenging in the snow was not an easy feat. Especially with pink tentacle freaks and the assimilated around every lurking corner up on the surface.

Leo was sure that this was gonna be a pain in the shell however to his surprise he found some entertainment out of the one sided conversation Casey Jr was having with you.

Regardless of the lack of your response, the raven haired boy kept bombarding you with rounds of endless questioning. Like twenty-one questions but, with more like five hundred-fifty-five questions. It was hilarious. Many times as he was communicating with his subordinates he would over hear Casey Jr spout something random. Comedic prompting caused the mutant leader to muffle his chuckles on a few occasions. The action earned him a raised brow or two from a couple of agricultural workers.

Everything was fun and games, until it wasn't.

Leo had been strolling down one of the many select rows of dirt walkways onto the next location he needed a report from. He had been listening to his live comedy show when he noticed the lack of quips from his adolescent charge. That's when he peeked over his broad shoulder, only to find nothing but the dirt path beneath his feet. Casey Jr and (Y/n) nowhere to be found.

That's when suddenly shit turned into a real life Lou Jitsu movie with a plot twist that kept the viewer at the edge of their seat. Except for Leo this wasn't a Lou Jitsu movie. He fucked up. Shit wasn't just gonna line up and all his problems would be solved. No. Hot Soup he had to solve this himself. The Resistance Commander gripped the inside pockets of his loose fitted beige pants. A small amount of anxiety rose at the possible implication of the duo's absence meant.

Now the blue clad mutant was aware he was the sharpest tool in the shed but he knew some things. For example, you wanted to leave. Casey Jr knew how to leave the base. Leo taught him in case of emergency if the red eared slider himself or someone else wasn't present to assist the child. Said afro mentioned charge wanted you to respond to his pestering. And the Resistance leader was distracted by the comedic routine and his patrols to notice the disappearance of the two-man comedic troupe he had been chaperoning.

The grown ninja turtle knew what you were doing. If his hypothesis was correct—

You were trying to use Casey Jr to escape.

The blue bandana wearing turtle internally scolded himself for his stupidity. He knew you wanted to escape. He shouldn't have let his guard down just because of your meek unresponsive domineer and his humorous charge.

Donatello was gonna kill him if he didn't find you before the purple clad mutant was finished repairing the pump. Which at this point was any minute.

Taking a deep breath of air Leonardo calmed his startled nerves. The mutated Commander had no reason to stress. He could handle this easily. Reminding himself that he taught Casey Jr how to flee from the base. If that truly was the case this retrieval should be a walk in the park.

Cursing his luck under his breath the olive skinned turtle dashed off in the suspected direction that you and Casey had traveled. Unaware of inky orbs following his brother's retreating figure. Ignorant to the irritated displeasure that burned within the tary pits.

°°°°°°°°

As a kid your mother the ever devoted follower— used to warn you about making deals with demons and wicked imps. They'd offer whatever you wished for just a simple price before snatching away your soul. Never would you ever reach the kingdom in the clouds with her and your brother Ethan(I know so creative). Now adult, you knew that stuff was a crock of shit— but as a starry-eyed child with all the hopes and no crushed self esteem, you believed it. Though now as you traversed through disgusting sewer waste you can honestly say that it was a possibility. How else did you end up in this mess? You rolled the dice with the jade devil and now you couldn't pay.

"(Y/n)? .....Were you even listening?"

Without even realizing it you drifted off into your thoughts again an occurrence that only seemed to become more frequent the longer you stayed in that base. In that lab. With the purple bandana wearing turtle who betrayed your trust.

Hopefully after this you wouldn't have to worry about that mutated swindler ever again.

"Sorry.. I was just thinking about something...could you repeat what you said again?" You asked glancing down at your miniature guide, a tight smile presented on your (skin tone) face. It's been a while since you had to play nice.

It was selfish but, you had no other choice. You'd never have this opportunity again. You only had one way out. No one else was gonna help you. Push came to shove you were willing to do whatever it took to flee from the purple clad demon who wouldn't leave you be.

" Dios miós! I-iii aaasked why you're tryinna' to leave this base? Isn't everyone like, tryinna' to get in the base not out? " The doomsday child inquired. Emphasizing his question with a dramatic arched brow and one big questioning eye. The expression very animated. The kid likely picked up the look from a old salvaged comic from the Resistance headquarters' communal library.

Not prepared for the sudden insightful line questioning from the nine year old who up until now had been just asking whatever seemed to pop into his head.

With a forced grin you replied. "You wish." Teasing the now pouting child before continuing. "Though if you must know. I'm gonna go see some family." You lied releasing a tired exhale as your sole (e/c) orb looked around the seemingly empty canels that Casey was accompanying you through. Claiming that he only knew the way based on the look of the surroundings. How he tells the difference between one gross wall from another gross wall slightly boggled your head. Though if it got you out of this cement prison you didn't care.

For a moment as the two of you walked side by side the raven haired child peered up at you with a squinting gaze as he absorbed your answer. Another cartoonish action that made the corner of your lip slightly curl.

"Hmmmm... Alrighty! I can understand wanting to see your family. I lost my mother when I was young but, Leo and his brothers always make me feel right at home!" The young child perked as he grinned up at you with that wide chipped grin of his.

You missed this type of interaction. No fighting or an obsessive purple bandana wearing turtle lurking. Just two normal people just having a plain conversation. No commands or shifty deals. Just one person leading the other to the long awaiting freedom you've desired.

These interactions with the teddy bear brown eyed boy become more challenging with each quip the child spoke. Insects were drilling into the flesh under your skin again. Burrowing into the empty casket of your missing soul. Thriving on what is left of your sanity as they scuttled around in the memories you didn't want to face.

Somehow peering down at the chubby cheeks and scruffy black hair of Casey Jr's that didn't resemble Ethan in any way— still made you think of your deceased younger sibling.

He had been only eight years old he was the first to go out of your happy family trio. It had happened when the Krrang had first opened their portal. Neither one of you were prepared for the earthquake like shake before the ceiling of your mother's apartment collapsed and crushed the two of you under crumbling rubble. When you came to after pushing crumbled drywall from on top of yourself and searching for your younger sibling. All you found when you searched through broken pieces of your childhood home was blood. You couldn't lift the interior support beam off of where you had presumed Ethan was. The steel was far too heavy and your palms were too coated in the surrounding sediment to be able to lift the remaining pieces. You couldn't do anything. Unable to fulfill the role of the older sibling.

For hours you bawled as you had tried to wait for your mother's return. She had been at work when the Krrang attacked. You never did find out what became of her. You always did hope that she got away and somehow was doing well. Even if the reality is she most likely got assimilated or killed. You still always prayed she was doing good.

You just wanted to see them again. Go back in time and re-live the moments you carelessly spent. Fights and words you wish could be taken back. Reclaim wasted opportunities that you'll never have again. How you wish you could tell them you loved them both one last time.

"(Y/n) were here."

At the sound of Casey Jr's squeaky voice your lone (e/c) orb found presented before it was a waterfall of sludge that spilled over into a thirty-five foot drop. Leading down into what appeared into a bay of the same icky substance rushing past your soaked flats. An

With a cheeky grin the raven haired boy pointed down into the pool below. "This is it, the end of the line for me!" The boy quipped before continuing. "I can't go any further with you but, if you keep following that tunnel down there you should be out of the sewers in no time!" Casey finished with a smirk arms crossed over his tiny chest as he explained the directions. Obviously proud himself for remembering his Sensei's words.

" Thanks... " You grinned awkwardly. Not particularly fond of the idea of swimming through god knows what.

"Goodbye Casey, ...thank you for showing me the out." A small smile grew on your face as you looked back at the nine year old only to see the cause of your nightmares standing silently in the background. Glowing optic reflecting in the shadows like a beast prowling the jungle.

Suddenly the spacious catacomb you've been traversing through didn't have enough air. Your chest clenched tight around the squishy organs encased in your ribs.

"(Y/n) are you alrig—"

"Casey Jr stay back!"

It was Leonardo, already at his charge's side holding back the nine year old from advancing any further into the situation that no longer included them. Donatello already approaching forward with the same air of confidence he always carried. Expression studious and sharp. Although the purple tattooed turtle did not display it— he was fucking furious.

"I should've known you would do this to me, (Y/n). " The General dryly chuckled as he edged closer. Every bold step forward the purple bandana wearing ninja took, the closer your shaking legs stumbled towards the slimy edge of the trash filled waterfall. In his three fingered grip a pair of steel cuffs. The kind you see in the movies except from the look of the bulky things. The ones dangling from Donatello's right hand were real.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck— Things were moving too fast. Your rampaging pumping muscle was going to explode. Panicked breaths filled the range of sound your anxiety allowed at you honed in on the jade demon in front of you.

" I should've never made that deal with you... you lied to me. You knew that my mother was dead— YOU KNEW!" You cried as your lone (e/c) eye flashed back and forth between the cracking edge you stood on and the softshell who stood before you. "You fucking lied to me! You played me just so I would stay! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Panting you learned forward, (skin tone) palms resting on your knees. Never breaking eye contact with the aged turtle who although appeared collected was everything but. Narrowed black eyes filled with so much anger. Though still allowed you continue.

"I... -pant-....will never.. -pant- ..fucking love you. You were a mistake. Any feelings I ever had for you were a mistake. I wish I never had met you. I wish I fucking died when you rescued me on your stupid scrap run those months ago..." Straighten your stature you gave the infuriated jade turtle one last look as you smugly looked him dead in the eye.

"I wish whatever fucked up God had chose to taken General Raph, ....had instead killed you..." You calmly stated. Laughing as you continued. Silent tears finally falling out of your last good eye. " Hahahaha— the only reason— you are soooo important enough to still be alive is because your older brother decided to give his life for all of you sick fucks! I pity his sacrifice— maybe at least if he was still here he would know how to handle shit instead of giving into an overgrown spoiled brat like you!"

Silence. No one made a peep. The only sound that broke through the thick tension in the tunnel was the rushing sound of the sewers water that at this point has successfully drenched the legs of your muck covered plaid bottoms.

In the background the fearless blue bandana wearing Commander's emotions were all laid out on his nonexistent sleeve. He was hurt, pissed, and over all he just looked disturbed with the overall conversation.

Meanwhile Casey Jr shielded his face into his Sensei's plastron. Quite sobs choking the boy as his tiny hands griped onto his Commander's beige pant leg like his life depended on it. Terrified of the situation that didn't make sense to the child. The sight made your heart ache just a little bit.

Donatello didn't say anything. He didn't do anything just bore holes into your soul. You had opened your mouth to continue berating the purple clad asshole who's kept you in his fuckin' lab for the last year. Forced you to sleep next to him. Locked you up like a dog when you tried to run away.

However the jade mutant beat you to the punch.

"Shut up. Don't you dare even say another fucking word. "The aged ninja seethed, closing the space between the two of you in a blink of an eye. His left metal palm shooting to grasp your according bicep, tightening his grip around the tender flesh.

" I don't ever want to ever hear you mention Raph's name ever again. You don't fucking deserve to say it. You're so ungrateful and pathetic it just makes everyone around you laugh at your stupidity. Are you really trying to leave the base? Me? For what? Just so you can go fucking kill yourself out there? I saved you. I'm supporting the human race even when all the facts say I shouldn't. That I should've given up on this stupid apocalypse alooong time ago but, I didn't. I had wanted to when we had crossed paths for the first time. When I rescued you, I changed my mind. Why can't you just be grateful!?!?" Donatello cried as he pushed you from the tunnels edge into the roaring murky waters below.

°°°°°

Beep...beep...beepbeepbeep

There she is.

The softshell will admit he lost a bit of his composure back there. He shouldn't have pushed you from that high of a point but, you just made him so mad. How dare you bring up Raph. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like on that battlefield. There was no winning, only retreat. You don't realize how much he wishes everyday that the one who had perished was himself not Raph. You don't realize. You're always so naive. That's why Donatello was here to keep you safe. It was for your own good.

There.

In the shallow waters was your water logged figure. Obviously you were out cold based off small rise and fall of your chest.

With a sigh, Donatello slid the projected screen from the monitor on his cybertronic arm. Deactivating the tracker that was implanted in your abdomen. Lucky for him had installed this little insurance a long time ago after one of your many fits just for this type of emergency. Finding the gadget handy in locating you both times. Not having to rely on his red eared slider twin's amazing capabilities.

Trekking into the shallow water the purple clad turtle reached down and retrieved your knocked out figure. Not caring particularly much about the condition of his loose dark purple pants that soaked up the surrounding water fairly quickly.

With a strong exhale of air the technological general retreated back to his base chastising you under his breath along the way. Once there the softshell would insure that you wouldn't have another opportunity like this again.

Like a true scientist Donatello learns from his mistakes and he'll keep trying until one of his punishments clicks. It's not like you won't give the techno demon the opportunity to do so. Not that Donatello minds.

After all where would science be without trial and error?

¶¶Creator's notes¶¶

Wazzup!

You guys made this far so you deserve the scoup on the next one-shot will be...

Drum roll🥁🥁

Yan!Future!Raph x Reader 🎉🎉

I don't have a picture for Future Raph but, if you guys have any good pictures saved hit me up I'm always open.

I have some ideas on how I want to do it. Though I could also turn it into a post movie sort of deal. Where it takes place after the events of the ROTTMNT movie. Thouughhh it's up to you guys. One person has already voted for some future Raph so we'll see what I come up with.

[stoicman-wbk]

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you fanfics:

Hey, just wanted to rant for a sec about a comment I received earlier on my ongoing Windbreaker fanfic.

I was really excited to see a new comment in my inbox, but then I read it and it said:

“Let's move on to the next chapter...”

This is NOT the motivation commenters think it is. It’s the exact opposite, actually.

Here I am, working a full time job and doing overtime because of the holidays. Here I am during hunting season trying to spend a few mornings in the woods so I can get food to feed me and my family for the next fucking year. Here I am trying to juggle writing my own fic (this one, with no deadline because it’s purely for myself), writing a fic for a Windbreaker gift exchange (due in December), writing for a fan zine (with a check-in in December), creating content for a week-long fan event (also in December), creating a commission for a customer (again, due in December), creating a large hand-made gift for my mother (you guessed it, due in December), plus shopping for the rest of my friends/family even though I still have no idea when I’ll even get a freaking chance to do that.

I cannot prioritize a fanfic that has NO deadline over everything else right now. And I said as much in the notes of my last chapter. I even vaguely explained all the shit I have going on right now, and yes, I know it’s been a few weeks since I updated & my readers are used to me shoveling out chapters once or twice a week like some sort of maniac. And most of my readers have been incredibly kind and understanding, and I greatly appreciate their patience (seriously, I love them).

But y’all have to understand, I am writing in what little spare time I have and posting it for others to read for free. Of course I love my readers and especially the ones that comment regularly. But I do not owe anyone the time and effort that it takes to write. I write because I feel like it, because I enjoy it, and because I have time to do so. So when I don’t have the time and energy to spare, people need to be a little more patient. Please.

Demanding updates does not get fanfics updated faster.

In fact, this one comment single-handedly has caused me to further postpone my update.

I was literally planning to binge-write the next chapter tomorrow since I’ll be off work, but getting this rude comment has made me bitter & I am NOT going to reward this behavior with an immediate update.

So, I’m really sorry to all of my other readers, but you’ll have to be a bit more patient.

I’m now going to use this time to work on my other projects that actually have deadlines. It’ll probably be better for me to do so anyway. Once I get some of those out of the way, then I will have more time to focus on my ongoing fic.

So yeah, this is just a reminder that it costs nothing to NOT be rude to people who are literally providing you with free entertainment.

And you making demands will cause you to wait longer because I am nothing if not full of spite ☺️

Oh, and if you’re curious, the fanfic is “Promise” which is the latest part of my Suo-centric series, “Cracks in the Mask”

[screaming-blue-bagel]

Bed of Roses [rockstar!eddie munson x fem!plus-sized reader]

pt. 1 The Single

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst, this is based on the song by Bon Jovi but I'm going to pretend Eddie wrote the song (and any other songs I might include)

*do not post my work on other sites or take my original work. likes and reblogs are welcome*

wc: 2.1k

Please comment if I should make this a series!

*I recommend listening to Bed of Roses by Bon Jovi while reading.

He just released a new single. I hate it. It’s why I’m sitting down on the bathroom floor with a runny nose, tear-stained face, and a near empty bottle of wine. My eyes and lips are swollen, and the tears stopped falling hours ago.

It’s almost been two years since I’ve seen him. That damn song is probably not even about me, but I’m not convinced. 

Earlier this evening is when I first heard it on the radio while I was driving to the store. “This is Corroded Coffin’s newest single Bed of Roses.” I can’t even remember where I was going, but I ended up back at home drunk on the floor.

I get up to rinse my face off with cold water before I hopefully fall asleep sooner rather than later. I look in the mirror just to not recognize the person I see. “Fuck you.” I turn out the lights and stumble my way into our bed. My bed, I mean. The darkness consumes me quickly as I lie there in dreamless sleep.

…

“Shit,” I say as I rub my head looking for my cigarettes and lighter. I slowly walk out of the room squinting as the sun is too bright and too loud. I walk out on the back porch and light my cig. I laugh to myself as I wonder why I still come outside to smoke. She’s not here to get onto me for smoking inside, and it’s my house anyway. As I finish up my cigarette, I see a woman I don’t remember walk outside and towards me in one of my shirts. 

“Morning,” she says as she smiles bashfully at me.

“Mornin,” I say as I smash the last of my cigarette under my house shoe as I go to walk back inside.

“Wait, where are you going?” she says as she catches up to me and wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek.

“I got a lot of shit to get done in the studio today.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?”

I clear my throat before turning back to her.

“No, probably not. I um have to leave town for a few days,” I say while scratching my head and avoiding eye contact.

She left within an hour, but I didn’t hear her leave.

My scuffed black leather duffle bag sits on my bed as I stuff it with a few more shirts. I should have stopped using this bag by now. It’s all fucked up with scratches, and I could by a hundred new ones if I wanted to. I grab ahold of the small tag around one of the straps. I run my thumb over the embossed leather and smile. 

To: Eddie

From: Birdy xx

She’s probably cursing me by now since the single released last night. I guess I better head to the studio, so I can get some work done before I catch my flight back to Indiana tonight.

…

“No, Nancy I’m fine,” I say as I walk into her office.

“I was just checking. You just seem a bit tired,” she says.

I ignore her words as I hand her a cup of coffee and take a seat on the green chair in front of her.

“I think I am going to leave town for a few weeks,” I say quickly. “I need to get some fresh air outside of Hawkins city limits.”

“Birdy, are you sure? You know Dustin’s graduation is this weekend,” she says knowingly.

“Yeah, I think he will forgive me if I give him a good graduation gift,” I say hopefully. She looks at me over the top of her newspaper. “I have to go anyway. Steve needs my help with organizing Dustin’s graduation party.”

I walk out into the parking lot and see my black 1969 Mustang. I get in and set my purse on the white leather passenger seat. I drive over to Family Video with the windows down listening to Wild Side just to spite him because I know how much he hates Tommy Lee.

I pull up outside, shut my door, and walk up on Robin and Steve talking at the counter. I briefly hear Eddie’s name before Robin elbows Steve in the ribs, and he quickly turns around running a hand through his hair. 

“Hey Birdy, I didn’t hear you come in,” he clears his throat.

“I just came in to discuss Dustin’s party details with you,” I say taking off my sunglasses.

“Right, uh do you want to come over later to talk about it?”

“Actually, right now is better because I’m leaving town today,” I say as confidently as I can.

Robin spits out her drink behind the counter in a fit of laughter. 

“Perfect timing Birdy, you must have heard the news already then,” she says as Steve tries to signal to her to be quiet.

“I didn’t. Do you care to enlighten me?” I say quizzically looking between the pair.

Steve takes a few seconds before speaking. He looks to be trying to carefully choose his next words.

“I was actually just telling Robin that uh Eddie will be staying with me this weekend since he’s coming in for Dustin’s graduation,” he stutters out nervously.

“I see,” it looks like I need to leave sooner then. “When is he supposed to get here?” I say leaning over the counter glaring at Steve.

“Well–you see, he’ll be here around ten o’clock,” Steve says looking to Robin for reassurance. She nods in agreement.

I look down at my watch “10:17 a.m.” 

“Please tell me you mean p.m. like tonight,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I really wish I could, Birdy,” Robin says, “But I can’t exactly do that.”

“Damn it,” I say just in time to hear the doorbell chime as someone walks in the store.

I don’t turn around. I’m pretty sure my waist is stuck to the counter.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he says wrapping his arm around my shoulders, “Harrington, Buckley.”

“Hargrove,” Steve says annoyedly. 

I nudge his arm and roll my eyes, but still sigh in relief. He moves his arm and winks at me.

“I just came by to return this,” he says sliding the tape across the counter.

Robin grabs the tape and walks to the other side of the counter and Billy follows.

I spend half an hour discussing party details with Steve, but most of the time he spends trying to convince me to stay in town because “this is an important moment in Dustin’s life” and “he really wants you there Birdy.”

I know it’s important and I do want to be there, but I don’t want to if he’s going to be there. I spend a few minutes thinking of how I can get myself out of this one without upsetting Dustin. Nothing comes to mind. 

“Steve, fine. I won’t leave. I cross my heart and hope to die and all that,” I say sarcastically. “I actually have to go anyway. I have to pick up Ozzy before noon, and I have to pick up lunch for Wayne and drop it off at the trailer.”

“Birdy, are you sure? I don’t mind running it over there on my lunch,” Steve says comfortingly.

“Yeah Harrington, he’s probably not even in town yet, and if he is I am going to have to face him sooner or later anyway,” I grumble.

…

I make right on time to pick up Ozzy. I give El an apologetic glance as she is waiting on me before leaving for her lunch break. 

“Thanks for waiting on me El,” I say as I take Ozzy from her. 

“No problem, Max is not here to pick me up yet,” she smiles.

The small black, white, and gray terrier in my arms licks my cheeks and barks excitedly. I rub his soft fur as I walk outside with him.

“Well don’t you look handsome, today?” I say in my baby voice.

Ozzy doesn’t care much and just jumps into the passenger seat to stand up to look out of the window. I laugh to myself as I drive to Benny’s to pick up Wayne’s lunch. I started taking him lunch on Friday’s since he’s retired after Eddie hit it big and paid off all of Wayne’s debt, which I’m glad for because Wayne deserves to spend the last of his years just relaxing.

I make the familiar drive through Forest Hills to the Munson’s trailer. I park in front and let Ozzy out and he runs around the front then follows me up the steps. I knock on the screen door.

“Just a second,” I hear Wayne say. “Good to see ya darlin’ how are ya today?”

“I’m doin’, okay,” as I say following him inside.

I sit the bag on the table and begin unpacking our burgers and fries. I take out two sodas from the fridge, and hand one to Wayne who has yet to sit down. I don’t say anything and go to sit down until I hear Ozzy start barking down the hall. Wayne gives me an apologetic look before I make sense of the situation. Ozzy stops barking. That’s when I hear it. That damn laugh. I move away from the table and to the front door.

“I-I will come back later to pick up Ozzy,” I say to Wayne with a shaking voice and my back to the front door.

Before I can turn to get the door open, Eddie comes into the living room carrying Ozzy and smiling. He looks up, makes eye contact with me, and clears his throat. I look at the floor.

“Uh hi Birdy, long time no see,” he says putting Ozzy down and slowly approaching me like I’m a scared animal about to take off. To be fair, he’s not wrong.

Before he can take another step, I turn around and burst through the door and jog to the door of my car, but before I can open it there’s a hand on the door. It’s definitely not mine. Those aren’t my rings.

“Shit,” I say to myself before slowly turning to face him and those pretty brown eyes.

“Birdy, please stay. I need to talk to you,” he says giving me puppy dog eyes that could put Ozzy to shame.

“Eds, I mean Eddie,” I say trying to back up, but my ass is already against the car. Eddie physically flinches as I correct myself. “I can’t do that. You know that” I say looking down at my shoes.

“Baby please, just for a few minutes,” I know you don’t really want to talk to me. I just need a few minutes and then you can leave.” 

Eddie scoots closer to me, trapping me between him and my car. I clear my throat and look him in the eyes. Anger quickly forms in me. Eddie starts to look worried. He should. Before he can say something else, I knee him in the crotch, and he falls backwards on the ground. I wince as I look at him in pain, but it quickly subsides as I remember what that prick did to me. I open the door then turn to him still groaning on the ground.

“Maybe you should have tried to talk before you stuck your dick in someone else,” I say glaring at him before I slam the door, start my engine, and speed off.

…

Wayne walks outside seeing Eddie on the ground still. Ozzy runs down the steps and goes right up to Eddie licking his face.

“You kinda’ deserved that one, son,” Wayne says looking down the trail of dust you left after driving off.

“I fucking know. I fucked up. I get it,” Eddie says, finally sitting up with a scowl on his face. 

Wayne sits on the steps and takes out a cigarette lighting it. Eddie gets up and walks over to sit next to Wayne. He takes out his own cigarette and lights it.

“Ya know Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says before blowing out some smoke. “I regret buying her that car since all she uses it for now is to run from me.”

Wayne stands up and opens the door. “Ya know that’s your fault boy. You can’t blame her for your stupid choices,” Wayne says before walking inside and letting the door slam.

Eddie puts his head in his hands. He sighs and looks up seeing Ozzy smelling something in the grass. “Ozzy, you can convince her to talk to me, right?” Ozzy walks over to Eddie and puts his front paws on Eddie’s knee. “Yeah buddy, you’ll help me convince Birdy,” he says petting the small dog. Ozzy excitedly tilts his head at the name of his owner. “Come on, let’s go inside,” Eddie says standing up and looking down the gravel path before whispering “fuck” under his breath and following Ozzy inside.

[not-goldy]

"someone who minds her business, doesn't do drama, won't stir shit"

considering what she was posting, the multiple times she's done this "similar clothes/furniture" thing, and her being friends with yubi....

yeah no 😭

Welp

Like I said, don't really know her and I don't care to know her.

But I don't think her defending herself constitute drama....

And I do think she's trolling Army to further trigger yall. Which, power to her. It's ridiculous to be made a target of hate over false allegations and be expected to take it all graciously

See- The problem with these single celebrities they always tell on themselves because if she has a partner and she's deliberately fueling rumors she's seeing someone else imagine the chaos that would ensue in her relationship. And if she has a partner or friends at all, she appears to be fighting all on her own which in itself is sad. Yall leave that woman alone😩

Giving how annoyed she is by yall don't you think if she had any substantive proof she was dating JM she would post and delete just to spite yall??

Cos if I were her I will post a photo of Jimin naked in my bed sleeping, or the gifts he got me that's signed by him, or me at his parents for chuseok or video chats, literally a gazillion other solid unimpeachable proof I have in abundance because I have access to Jimin.

And I would do it not jx because yall hating on me for rumors no no no mo, I'll post it each time shippers celebrated my man as a gayman frolicking around with another man cos my petty levelness is that high.

I'll leave my phone with my niece and leave the internet on. Whatever he posts online is not me. Oh no, look its a photo of me sucking JMs toe. Bad bad niece. Anywho.

It's giving Minjoo the tattoo artist all over again. The defensiveness, fighting back, seeming unprotected, victimized, helpless when your man and his crew supposed to be having your back- sorry to these women. When I tell yall have high standards cos yall can't be straight and be dealing with this mess being straight is punishment enough 😹

As for similar this and that lots of Army have more similar this similar that with BTS than BTS themselves. These celebrities shop in the same places, recieve products from the same brands, hire the same stylists, they basically fish in the same pool.

I really don't want to spend my time on this when I could be learning a new recipe 😩

For some reason I'm into cooking these days.

[anodyne-sunflower]

I love the dynamic I've made between my recent male character (half elf oathbreaker) and Astarion so, I'm writing their story for myself ha. Just a little piece I'm working on, will post to Ao3 when done, hopefully.

He had a plan. A nice, simple plan.

And his plans usually tend to go his way. There's no fuss, no kinks in the threads of it...Astarion is just that well-versed in following through with them. Of course, it helps when your life depends on executing them with perfection, but then...what's his excuse for them falling apart now?

"Ow!" Astarion flinches back from a slight knock to his forehead, rubbing the area even though it really didn't hurt him all that much, given how gentle the flick actually was.

"Pay attention."

"You little--"

"Well, wouldn't need to resort to violent measures if you actually paid attention to me."

Astarion wants to say he always pays attention to him, that's the damned problem. Instead, he opts for a scowl, rolling his eyes at his current lover, because involving the theatrics was more fun (and safe) than being vulnerable.

Or admitting the truth. Which he has unfortunately come to accept--only to himself, of course. He wasn't that smitten...yet.

"I am paying attention."

"Then repeat what I just said."

"I--," a sigh, long and very drawn out because he was caught deep inside his thoughts just seconds ago. No one can blame him, he was dealing with a very life-altering fact at the moment. One that involved a very tall man, with cute half-point ears and all the build of a leaned, muscled human. Astarion kind of hates the man's parents for making him. What in the nine hells were they thinking creating such a divine mix of traits? Now he remembers using such a line on him months ago, when all were fast asleep in their camp and Astarion was craving his touch more than he cared to admit.

It's as if the gods made you just to ruin me.

It was a silly little game then, where words were just that--words, and any form of pleasure he took from him was strictly for transactional purposes. At least, to his knowledge and even that turned out to be quite the lie towards himself.

"Ow--gods dammit! Stop that." Astarion pouts now, though he hopes it still holds a menacing sneer to it. Judging by the snort of amusement thrown his way, however, he fears not.

"You're doing it again."

"Ugh, gods below--what?" It comes out frustrated, desperate even, because he's too busy musing over a man who is too pretty to pay attention to. That kind of beauty only begs for daydreaming, not reality. He'd apologize for such a vain display of thought but...well, look at him. Anyone would, and have much to his chagrin, stop for a moment to let their imagination run wild.

"That thing where you get this far off look and then proceed to ignore me." It isn't spiteful, more playful and half-amused. Of course, the idiot doesn't take offense to being ignored. He's too damn nice, too easy-going, too...annoyingly perfect. "Astarion, I swear to all the gods--"

Astarion sees it before he gets the chance to flick his forehead again, dodging at the last second and returning the favor twice over with a soft nip to his jawline. Sometimes he's quite content with the little bit of speed and reflex his unfortunate gift has given him.

"Little shit." Kye rubs the area, the site reddening from the trauma but nowhere near deep enough to draw blood. Astarion would never do so when squabbling, it'd be a waste.