#I just want to know if anyone would hold me accountable for my behavior

[steeldaisies]

I went from being obsessed with Supernatural- mostly Dean let’s be honest, then Stranger Things- Steve, Billy, and Eddie, to now purely obsessing over Milo Manheim.

Btw- still obsessed with all of them, I’ve just broadened my horizons.

[crossbackpoke-check]

about to be sooo nosy so. my apologies. but. morgan frost? girlfriend? do share (or don’t! again this is so nosy i’m sorry)

for legal purposes i can neither confirm nor deny anything about morgan and his girlfriend but afaik i think he’s single right now? at one point (within the past four years 😭) he did for sure have a girlfriend and that is the extent of my wag knowledge

[narcissusneverknewme]

a very select portion of personalities trigger my latent tsundere traits.

In reverse of the usual order, this feels all the worse if they are fictional.

[hawkins-batman]

Let's Talk About Noah Schnapp

In light of everything that's happened in the last few days—namely Netflix releasing its first teaser for Stranger Things Season 5—many are returning to Stranger Things spaces online here and elsewhere for the first time in months. Maybe years. So, it's time to have this conversation again, because many people weren't here when some of us were having this conversation in the lull between content; and we're due for an update.

Buckle up—this is going to be long. I intend for this to be a mega post on the whole situation in so far as I can cover it, with receipts and screenshots.

The Conversation Around Noah

Put bluntly—the vitriol around Noah Schnapp has become dangerously insane. It's been that way for 2 years, but the renewed spotlight on Stranger Things, especially as Noah is set to take center stage in a Will Byers-centric season, has revived some of the worst elements of the conversation.

"What do you mean?", you may be asking. Well, I think it might just be better to show you:

This is just a sampling. If I showed you every tweet — every post — every video I've seen with this rhetoric, I'd need another medium to do it. A tumblr blog alone couldn't contain it all. But I take it you see my point now.

How Did Things Get This Way?

There are people on this app and on #that app who will say this behavior/treatment is warranted. They'll tell you that Noah is a "genocide supporter." That he "cheered for the deaths of Palestinian babies." That he "celebrated as people were being murdered." But none of this is true.

As a reminder, this was what Noah actually said—his very first comments on the matter—right after the Hamas attack that happened on October 7, 2023:

Important to note:

"...we will hope and pray for safety, justice, liberation, and self determination in Palestine."

and

"...we will say a Jewish prayer for peace for all Israelis and Palestinians."

That is the literal antithesis of support for a genocide or the wholesale slaughter of anyone.

The very next thing to happen was the infamous "sticker video" about which the most lies have been told, so let's debunk them one by one:

He did not make the stickers.

He did not wear the stickers.

He did not hand out the stickers.

He did not hold up the stickers.

He did not even touch the stickers.

He did not post the video on any social anywhere.

I've posted a pair of screenshots here that give you the gist in lieu of the video itself, but you can Google the video and watch the entire thing to see that I'm telling the truth.

What actually happened was that Noah was taken to a restaurant by a pair of influencers who were his guides while on a school-sponsored trip to Israel. Both were significantly older than him, were responsible for the video in question, were the only ones in it (aside from the waitress) to actually touch the stickers in question... and yet? Noah bore the brunt of the hate that ensued. When the backlash came, they abandoned him and left him to the wolves. (And perhaps because of that, he no longer associates with either one of them, nor follows any related social media accounts—all of which he was required to follow in the first place as terms of going on the trip through his school.)

Noah had just come out of the closet earlier that year and was 18 years-old. He would only turn 19 years-old in the ensuing weeks.

He has addressed these events several times. Most famous was the TikTok that he made explaining his actual position (that he doesn't want anyone, Palestinian or Israeli, to die). Less famous were remarks he made to fans on Snapchat:

I'll post his remarks here for those who can't read the text:

Hey guys! I appreciate you reaching out. To give you context, I did not post this language or sticker. I was at breakfast with friends, it happened to be an Israeli cafe, and a girl was handing out stickers. Someone photographed me and posted and tagged me. As you guys know better than most people, social media can be used however people want to use it. I understand the weight of the situation and take it very seriously. I have friends of friends who are currently being held hostage in Gaza right now. My friends kids were killed in the massacre at the Israeli music festival. Standing up against this terrorism is important to me and why I made my statement after the attack. As one of the only few Jewish people with a platform, I absolutely think it's important to share my message about hatred for Jews around the world right now. However, everyone online is obviously twisting everything and saying I support genocide and am Islamophobic which is obviously entirely false and never have I stated either of those things. Seeing what is happening to the innocent people in Palestine pains me so much and I wish it would stop. I fully support everyone in Palestine as I said in my post on Instagram. One of my best friends in college is Palestinian and we talk about this issue allllll the time and agree on most things. I think people on social media are just animalistic right now so it's hard to even chime in because they just rip me apart so now I'm staying out of it.

I'll let that stand on it's own. I think it provides the context behind his remarks, the situation with the video/stickers, and his actual views versus how social media portrays his views. It also explains why he hasn't said anything else in almost 2 years.

The key takeaway: He was speaking out against antisemitism and the attack on Jewish people on October 7 and he supports an end to what is happening in Gaza and fully supports Palestinians. He literally says it.

And this support, by the way, has been corroborated by his own actions and the word of mouth from Palestinian organizations he has contributed to:

What Has Happened Since?

It would be easier to list the things that haven't happened; but I'll try anyways:

Noah has been called antisemitic slurs; gay slurs and targeted with gay stereotypes; been compared to antisemitic caricatures; he's been threatened with death and had posts go viral fantasizing about his brutal murder; his family has been threatened; he's been threatened with rape and sexual abuse; there are massive accounts on Twitter that doxxed his location while he was filming Season 5—particularly targeting him when he was alone; he's been hacked, had personal pictures leaked; he's had lies spread about his treatment of his cast mates (all of whom have spoken out and said that they've loved him at some point since, making these claims unequivocally false.

Here are a few examples:

Again, I can only post a sample. I hope that sample is enough to get the message across.

It's hard to overstate how cataclysmic this has been. Obviously, he's recovered and healed a lot since the initial incident; but the damage done needs to be acknowledged. These attacks drove him into a dark place by his own admission. He talked about needing therapy on his (now deleted) private spam TikTok account. And they are starting up yet again.

And Then There's the Fandom

The Stranger Things fandom in the wake of all this has been an irritating place to be. Not just because of the above behavior but because of the blanket hypocrisy.

The shipping sub-fandoms in particular have been rank with antisemitism and homophobia—even the Byler fandom, which is predominantly queer. People have:

A) Taken pre-Stranger Things photos—like his baby pictures or pictures with his family—to use as part of their content, their profile pictures, their banners, their fan art, their fan edits, etc.—violating his and his family's privacy for "Will" all while calling him "ugly," a "fag," and lobbing the above-listed threats at him. B) Tried to recast him with a fan cast. These fan casts are almost never Jewish actors, you'll notice. In fact, there's someone on this very app that recast Will Byers as himself. This is gross and absurd. Will Byers is intrinsically tied to Noah Schnapp. Tied to his identities as a Jewish person and a gay man. Tied to his experiences being a character he helped bring to life during his formative years. C) Persist in stanning or support his cast mates despite the fact that they continue to associate with him. This, in particular, is gross hypocrisy. If you're going to be mad at Noah Schnapp for being in a restaurant around stickers you object to—guilt by proximity/association, in other words—those SAME standards should apply to his cast mates, who continue to hang out with him outside of work, state that they love him, and post him on their social medias. I have a whole post about that here.

Instead, the cast is continually afforded blanket immunity while he is singularly targeted for continued abuse and harassment.

It should give the fandom some pause that openly pro-Palestine actors like Maya Hawke not only continue to hang out with him; but in her Instagram story, even stated that she misses it (check the link above for a screenshot of said story). She wouldn't do that if she thought he somehow supported mass-murder; and she knows him way better than any one reading this blog. That goes for the rest of them, too.

They know him better than you. They know his moral compass and what he believes. And they haven't abandoned him and obviously aren't going to. So, are you going to stick to your guns and apply your anger evenly; or maybe consider that you don't have the full picture?

So, Why Care?

I get this in my Asks so often. "Why do you care?" "He's a celebrity." "He don't know you." "He's not your pookie."

I know. It's not about that.

Yes, full disclosure, I am obviously a fan of Noah's. Have been since the show started. And no it's not because I'm gay and he's gay or because he plays my favorite character in Stranger Things.

Like many of his fans, I've spent the last decade seeing his lives on Instagram and TikTok, seeing his fan interactions, watching his vlogs and videos, and I've come to respect him as a human being quite apart from Will Byers or his role as an actor. Fundamentally, I really believe he is a kind and caring human being. The word of mouth from everyone who knows or has met him bares this out—and, yes, he's even been kind to me in the few conversations we've had.

This is only one example from Instagram during The First Shadow premiere this year; but I think it encapsulates what I like about Noah most. He's kind. He goes out of his way to be kind. He does things he doesn't have to do, contractually or just in general, for the sake of being kind. He always has been.

He's also stood up for a plethora of causes. Black Lives Matters, trans rights, the rights of women. He's known to be his cast mates' biggest supporter—and they'll tell you as much, too.

But quite apart from my personal feelings about him and more importantly: this is wrong.

Antisemitism is wrong. Homophobia is wrong. Both kill. Still, to this day. As I am sitting in my kitchen writing this, the news just broke that an Indigenous gay man and a celebrity was shot dead in front of his husband—after having his home burned down and dogs burned alive—in the United States. Yesterday, news broke that a gathering of peaceful Jewish protesters (which included children and the elderly) demanding the release of hostages still held by Hamas was firebombed in Colorado. Luckily, they all survived, but six people were injured in that attack.

Violence and bigotry are ascendent everywhere right now. Minority communities are being targeted. Normalizing the behavior I've described and shown above kills marginalized people. Regardless of your feeling about Noah as a person or celebrity, normalizing the violent and bigoted remarks, tweets, and behavior towards him harms Jewish and LGBTQIA+ people—all of us.

And just as an example of that, I give you the treatment Finn Wolfhard is now receiving just for the "crime" of shaving his head and being deemed no longer conventionally attractive by the fandom:

Yes, the general audience found out about Finn's Jewish heritage and now he's a target, too.

And this fandom is at fault for it.

You cannot normalize bigotry towards one person and expect it to stay contained to that one person. It will always harm everyone in that community. Finn Wolfhard—or any other actor/actress—being your favorite is not going to spare him from the consequences of a discourse you started.

ALL antisemitism and ALL homophobia needs to be called out. The people who insist it's okay that they do that for ANY reason—regardless of if they themselves are LGBTQIA+ or not—need to be ejected from the fandom and never let back in.

Noah Schnapp is a human being. He does not deserve this treatment. No one does. No one is saying you have to like him or even care about him. But you SHOULD care that this is how he's being treated and the impact it is having on others. The impact on Jewish people. The impact on queer people. Standing up and saying that does not mean you support genocide or murder or bigotry of any kind. Quite the opposite, in fact.

I am a person with left-leaning values. I'm tired of those values being spat on and dragged through the mud by people who think THIS is activism or is in any way helping a cause. It's not. All it is doing is perpetuating harm on a real person and real communities—queer and Jewish alike. And it needs to stop.

Related Blogs:

I've compiled some related blogs that expand on other elements of the situation that I've mentioned above in greater detail. This post was already long enough. I'll be updating this as more content comes out.

Examples of Noah’s Support for Gaza and Palestine (by @nymphus-fan-account)

The Evolution of a Lie

No, the Stranger Things Cast Does Not Hate Noah Schnapp

Lyric Vault’s Obsession with Noah Schnapp

[kxsagi]

this one doesn’t rlly involve a reader but i’d love to see blue lock boys react to what their irl fandom has to say abt them like from thirst comments to shit like “fraudtoshi rin” “plotsagi” “goatsagi” or idfk like “does ness hold it for kaiser when he pisses bc he can’t aim?” you can pick the characters, tho i feel like isagi, rin and kaiser are easier to do bc of how many comments there are about them

thank you for taking the time to read this random ass hc idea i love ur account🥀🥀💔💔

“𝐫𝐞𝐟, 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 🥀”

a/n: i loved this one so much, the blue lock fandom truly is the best 😭😭😭

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, ness alexis, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae

isagi yoichi

isagi's the type to search his name on twitter. daily. you think he's just analyzing plays but no, he's reading threads like: "isagi plays soccer like he's plotting a murder and we're just watching the body count rise." "plotsagi got that rizz. man manipulating the ball and my feelings." 

he scrolls in silence for a good 10 minutes. then asks himself, “do i really look like i monologue in my head before i pass?” 

but then he finds one that says “if isagi had a fanfic it’d be tagged ‘obsession’ ‘manipulative behavior’ ‘this is not a love story’” and he goes, “okay, but they’re not wrong.” 

thirst tweets? he reads one that says, “i would let isagi use me like he uses spatial awareness” and drops his phone (that was tweeted by kxsagi). 

refuses to look anyone in the eye for a full 12 minutes. 

itoshi rin

the absolute worst person to find his fandom discourse. 

at first it’s fine, he sees “itoshi rin owns me” and “he could spit on me and i’d bark” and thinks you’re all mentally unstable (he’s right). 

but then. then. he hits a comment that says: “fraudtoshi rin only shows up when sae breathes near him. man folds faster than my GPA.” 

he stops breathing. who said that. he’s scrolling like he’s trying to find the IP address. 

goes into a full-on rant like, “i literally scored more goals in the NEL than– you know what, never mind. i don’t care. i don’t. i don’t even read comments.” (he absolutely reads the comments.) 

the worst part is he sees people arguing over who the hotter itoshi is. someone said “sae is sexy. rin is just cold and tall.” this man is FUMING. “i am not just tall.” 

kaiser michael

he lives for this. googles himself once a week. you can catch him reading a post that says: “kaiser looks like he’d insult you in german during sex and then ghost you after stealing your charger.” 

he chuckles and goes, “hm. they get me.” 

there’s another tweet: “kaiser plays football like the main villain in a sports anime and i’d still let him ruin my life.” 

he saves it. makes it his wallpaper. “they get it.” 

but then he sees one that says: “does ness hold it for kaiser when he pisses because he can’t aim?” 

that man screeches. pure betrayal. “WHAT? why would they say that? why would they say i can’t AIM? i am the best striker in blue lock! in the world!” 

he turns to ness like, “tell them it’s not true. say it.” 

ness alexis

he sees the comment about him holding it for kaiser and his face goes red. “i don’t do that!! i– i– kaiser can aim just fine!! i mean– i’ve never– WHY IS THAT A QUESTION!?” 

his favorite tweet is actually: “ness is like a clingy poodle with abandonment issues and i want to pat his head and tell him it’s okay.” 

he reads it twice and mutters, “i don’t have issues...” 

but then sees someone say “ness is just the manager who got promoted to player because kaiser needed a fanboy on-field” and he looks heartbroken for the entire week. 

mikage reo

he’s lowkey offended that people don’t thirst over him enough. 

“why does everyone simp for nagi? i have the body of a greek god and a bank account that would fund a small nation. where’s my edit with lana del rey playing in the back?” 

he finds a comment that says: “reo has rich twink energy and i respect that.” 

he reads it out loud and then mutters, “... what does that mean.” 

nagi seishiro

only finds out about the fandom when reo shows him. doesn’t care until he sees a tweet that says: “nagi looks like he’d sleep through a nuclear war, but wake up if you open a bag of chips.” 

he stares blankly and goes, “they’re right though.” 

reo shows him another that says “nagi looks like he gives the worst hugs. like hugging a fridge.” 

“do i?” he asks, genuinely confused. “maybe it’s just all the muscle i’ve packed on.” 

shidou ryusei

he’s already in the comments. like. not just reading them. replying. 

thirst tweets? he's in there with a “bet 😘” and a selfie of his abs. 

reads a tweet that says: “shidou plays like a demon possessed his body mid-match and now it’s just him vs god.” 

he likes it. reposts it with “and i’m winning.” 

but then he sees someone tweet: “if shidou had a tumblr, it would be just gifs of himself and ‘do u guys think teeth are sexy’ polls.” 

he grins, full teeth. “yo wait. that’s genius.” 

there’s another one that says “shidou would call you ‘mommy’ during sex just to see your reaction” and he cackles. 

“nah, i already have. she cried. it was awesome.” 

but the real chaos? he finds a post that reads: “shidou is what happens when red bull sponsors a felony.” 

he screenshots it. makes it his lock screen. 

itoshi sae

did not ask to see the fandom discourse. but a teammate showed him anyway. huge mistake. he stares blankly at the phone like: “what the hell is a ‘dilf agenda’ and why am i on it?” 

he sees another one that says: “sae looks like he’d ruin your life and then act like you were the problem.” 

he hums. “that’s just facts.” 

another says: “sae is hot, but i just know he’d leave you on read for 3-5 business days with no explanation and still expect you to be in love with him.” 

he glances over, shrugs. but then. then. he reads: “sae is just rin with prettier hair and daddy issues.” 

his entire soul leaves his body. “excuse me?” 

turns to his teammate like, “do i… do i look like i have daddy issues?” his teammate blinks. he’s already reevaluating his childhood in real time. 

worst of all, he finds a photo of himself mid-match with the caption: “sae itoshi could run me over with his lamborghini and i’d say thank you.” 

and now he won’t shut up. “you think i should get a lambo? it’d match my aura.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[reticent-writer]

hiii just found you, and was wondering if you could do like the hashira’s reactions to a half demon, half human child (maybe toddler age). The child would be introduced at one of the hashira meetings

Then again I don’t know if you’ve already done this but yeah…

I have done something similar but I can't find it

Demon slayer masterlist

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

"Hey, kid!" A lowered rank yelled at you. It was the middle of the night and you were alone in the middle of the woods, playing without a care in the world.

"Kid where are your parents!" He got closer while still yelling.

This time you turned to face him. Your eyes glowed in the dark scaring the poor guy.

"Hi." You smiled while waving.

"What are you doing out here?"

"playin' "

"Where are your parents?" He asked again. You shrugged your shoulders.

"Come with me I'll take you somewhere safe." He leaned down to your height while holding out his arm, You hesitantly took it.

He took you to the master's estate in hopes of him finding a place for you

Ubuyashiki couldn't find your family so he made arrangements for you to live with him and his family

during this time his wife noticed your weird behaviors like not eating or sleeping, feeling nauseous around the scent of wisteria, your skin getting irritated when your out in the sun for too long

She brought this up with her husband and he asked you If you were a demon to which you replied

"Yes and no but master said it's a secret"

it's no longer a secret cause he called a meeting

"Hello my children, I've called you all here on account of my guest. A child was found playing in the woods, They have been living here for a while and we have suspected they might be a cross of demon and human."

"How is that possible?"

"Can we met them."

"I don't want to met another demon." Sanemi said with a tone of arrogance.

"Then go home no one needs the attitude." Tengen sassed.

"You-"

"I for one would like to see what they are like!" Rengoku boasted, accidentally cutting Sanemi off. He couldn't hear him.

"Are we sure it's safe. We do not know its intention." Gyomei asked.

"During the time they were here they never ate or was agressive towards anyone. Why don't you come out Y/n, I know you're listening."

You slightly opened the door to the engawa and peaked your head out.

"They're gonna kill me." You whined.

"No ones gonna kill you," Ubuyashiki and his children chuckled, "Can you come here please."

You thought for a minute before slowly making your way over to him, careful not making eye contact with the hashira.

"Aw how cute." Mitsuri gushed.

"What's wrong with it."

"Still with the attitude."

"Poor thing is scared." Gyomei started to tear up.

"They don't look the least bit demon." Iguro noted.

"Cause I'm not... Not fully." You said.

"What does that mean, Y/n?" Kagaya asked.

You shrugged, Sanemi groaned, "No disrespect master, but I don't see the purpose of keeping it alive."

"I second that."

"I told you they wanted to kill me!" You cried while running back into the mansion.

"...Well then I guess this meeting it over. You are dismissed."

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

[sublimepeachtriumph]

Everybody wants to hug Syd, Syd rarely wants to hug anybody

The bulk of the emotional labor and arduous, thoughtful work of care on the show is done by Syd. We see her taking care of people every day as Carmy says "You love taking care of people." Some of that involves enduring hugs and Syd, maybe more than any other character on the show, is on the receiving end of a lot of hugs from a lot of distinct people. However, all hugs aren't equal. By my accounting,

Hugs from Carmy: 2. After the fire suppression test is successful, he practically dives into Syd's arms and he is also the initiator of the awkward hug when she arrives at the Ever funeral service. The first is filled with affection and returned with affection by Syd. The second is for Syd's benefit to publicly establish her place in the pecking order of the fine dining world Carmy is introducing her to.

2. Carmy flees Donna's presence at Tiff's wedding and even though Donna has just been warmly greeted by Richie, she demands a hug from Syd who she has just met. This is totally for Donna's own benefit and we know other members of the wedding (like Claire and Stevie) are watching the show they expect temperamental Donna to put on from a safe distance. Watching Carmy visibly recoil from Donna and recalling her comments about Chinese babies to the black nurse as well as her safari-adjacent bedroom decor makes DD unredeemable to me. Watch your back, Syd!

3. Earlier that day, Richie psychs himself up to attend Tiff's wedding by demanding a hug from Syd which she, again, gingerly submits to. She has thoughts about this hug and, given that Richie has the grace to ask about her dad's recovery and treat her like a human being, I think Syd is learning what having Richie in her corner might mean.

4. After she makes Sugar an omelette, Sugar gives her a hug although it seems like what Syd actually wanted was to watch her enjoy the food. She also leans on her when Syd is toasting herself in the sunshine but that seems more for Sugar's benefit than Syd's who is still internally struggling with Shapiro's offer. My respect for Sugar really plummeted after her behavior when Syd's dad was in the hospital and even her advice to Carmy which never seems to take into account the impact borne by Syd. She warned Syd about Claire but overall, I think she takes Syd's care too much for granted.

5. Shapiro forces Syd to greet him with a hug at his creepy abandoned restaurant and again Syd visibly telegraphs her discomfort to the viewers. This is an escalation from his other creepy behavior--their initial meeting, the shot of their lunch with her back against the wall, forcing her into tight spaces and invading her early mornings through 6 am texts.

6. Chester forces Syd to hug him to allay his own insecurity about Marcus' interest in her and she is startled. This was entirely for Chester's benefit and Syd endured it.

7. Tina squeezes Syd and lifts her off the ground when Syd offers her the sous position and Syd seems startled and does not hug her back. I think Tina is stepping into the role of Syd's surrogate mother and I am definitely here for anyone ready to take care of Syd, the one who is constantly taking care of everybody else. Syd didn't seem to hate it, and much like Richie's hug before the wedding I think it made her realize what opening up to Tina might feel like viscerally.

8. Displaying impeccable etiquette about respecting a kid's bodily autonomy, Syd does not demand a hug from T.J. but seems pleasantly surprised to receive one spontaneously. She also neither offers nor demands to hold baby Sophie.

Thus far, all these hugs have been initiated by others. The only ones I noticed that were initiated by Syd are

9. Her dad who she is her person that she can rely one the most.

10. Cicero, whose compliment that her mom would be proud of her touches Syd because I think one of the keys that unlocks Syd's heart is her mother.

I wonder who Syd will choose to hug in Season 5--if anyone. Over four seasons, she has rarely initiated embraces and I suspect whichever eligible bachelor she decides to hug spontaneously is going to win her undying loyalty. And that may not be Carmy which--if we get more of jealous Carmy, I am so seated for it. Syd jealous of Claire with Carmy is over, bring on Carmy jealous of any man chosen by Syd. New season, new triangles.

[numberonetacostan]

TACO'S (POTENTIAL) FRIENDSHIPS TIERLIST

Explanations for my placements! Placements in each row are in no particular order.

Disclaimer: I am a media enjoyer, not a media analyzer. These are just my thoughts, so nothing is objectively wrong, but if one of my takes is OOC or you disagree I’d be happy to hear why as long as you’re nice about it :). 

Tier 1: Tacomic!!! <3

Mic: YURI YURI YURI YURI!!!! Their yuri can be un-toxic’d now and that makes me very happy :). Don’t get me wrong, I love toxic yuri, but I’m really glad to see them work things out!!! Mic can be more assertive, and Taco is trying to be better!! Anyways, I do think that they will start out as just friends as they rebuild their relationship and learn how to interact with each other in a healthier way without the competition in the way, and there will certainly be bumps in the road, but after some time I truly believe that we will have yuri. Taco is going to try calming down on the objectively bad stuff she does and work on apologizing when she does mess up!! And Mic can hold her more accountable while also being someone Taco can rely on to stay by her side. Especially with Soap helping out, making sure Taco apologizes rather than avoiding the issue and/or doubling down, and making sure Mic keeps up her established boundaries in terms of not immediately letting Taco off the hook, as she has a bad habit of doing. I love tacomic so so much, and I am 100000% sure that they can work towards and create a healthy and happy relationship that makes them both better people. If you don’t feel like yuri-ing today, you can see them as besties too, but regardless Mic takes the top spot!!!

Tier 2: Friendship is inevitable

Soap: As mentioned above, I think having Soap around will be really helpful for Taco! Someone who doesn’t hold ill-will towards her but is very willing to hold her accountable! A good balance. We saw Soap throwing away her cleaning supplies and telling Mic to listen to her heart, so she’s clearly got some good thoughts on self-improvement! Also Mic has clearly told her about all the non-competition related stuff that she and Taco did, lesbianing around and such, she’s got a pretty clear idea of who Taco is beyond the competition, which can’t be said for most of the cast. And since Taco will definitely be sticking by Mic’s side for the foreseeable future, she’ll get to know Soap pretty well too!! They can do karaoke together!!! Hooray!!!! :D.

Balloon: This one’s pretty obvious, eh? He had his whole redemption arc from when he was a jerk in season 1, and now he sees someone else who wants to start on that journey? He has the chance to help someone in the way Suitcase helped him? FUCK yeah they’re gonna be friends. He even struggled with giving a proper apology as seen in episode 9!! Just like Taco did!! (I love her, but that was the worst apology I’ve ever heard actually). He’s also quite the sensitive guy, which I think could pair well with Taco and her inability to emotion. [Maybe I should make that long post on why I think Taco is autistic. TLDR we have the same kind of autism.] But anyways! I think he could really help her with breaking out of those negative behavioral patterns and turning yourself around! The advice that OJ gave to him would probably work ever better for Taco. A new chance to meet new people who she didn’t do anything bad to! She hasn’t met most of the s2 or any of the s3 joiners, so she has a pretty clean slate with them, even if they’d heard of her misdeeds. I think she would initially think his poetry was stupid, and then find it really relatable and emotional, and then keep pretending she finds it stupid when anyone she isn’t very close to is around. They can talk about the crushing feeling of guilt, regret, and your sins!! They’ve both fucked up and found out, and now Taco is getting on the path to fixing it that Balloon took. Forgiving yourself is an important step to moving past your mistakes, and he could help her with that. Also, despite s3 going with a final 3 rather than a final 2, he did place second vote-wise, so he and Taco can be in the runner-up club together!!! They both enjoy classical music too, as a fun little bit, so they could parallel play (the best way to spend time with someone) together while listening to it!! 

Suitcase: Our s2 winner!! And never giving up on anyone QUEEN. Can you tell I love Suitcase yet? Beyond Truth or Flare, they haven’t interacted much, but given the fact that Taco broke in front of her, her kindness, and the fact that she NEVER GIVES UP ON ANYONE (Can you tell I love Suitcase yet?) I think she and Taco could become friends! Girlies who can put things in their heads <3 <3. With Suitcase having become more assertive, in a similar vein to Mic there isn’t a risk for Taco to, for a lack of a better term, steamroll over her. And of course Taco is working to be better, so she would be trying to not to do that anyways! Suitcase is also so sweet and empathetic towards others, I think Taco could benefit from that example! Empathy doesn’t seem to come very naturally to Taco (see that one autistic taco post that I really need to make), but Suitcase could be a great person to learn from, in Mepad’s absence! (Rest in Peace King I Love You). And Suitcase could also work in a similar vein to Balloon and Mepad with getting Taco to be kind to herself. She has a lot of self-loathing after everything, and hasn’t experienced a lot of kindness from others having been alone in the woods for years. Suitcase’s resilience in staying kind despite other’s actions (but standing up for herself when necessary, of course), could be really good for Taco, in the evitable moment that she lashes out. Recovery and self-betterment isn’t linear, you know? And someone like Suitcase who can go to her in these moments still offering kindness, acceptance, and help is vital.

Baseball: The fumbler himself!! He would take Lightbulb’s advice about making sure he’s looking to heart!! And she told him where to look!! At Taco, who is drowning!! He was the lowest-ranked in season 1, so aside from three episodes and the Stupid Trailer, he wasn’t really around for her whole s1 act. He can get to know her as herself, which isn’t something that can be said for most of the other season 1 contestants. I’d also wager he feels partially responsible for her and Mic’s little alliance too, Mic’s own feelings of worthlessness and how he had constantly put her down being the core reasons why Taco chose her and was able to convince her to work together. He’d want to try and fix things with Mic too, and since Tacomic, he’d end up hanging out with Taco too. Besides, he already has a best friend who’s a short lil gremlin, he could definitely get along with Taco. And speaking of Baseball’s short lil gremlin…

Nickel: Hoo boy, I have plenty to say about a Taco and Nickel friendship!! Nickel fucked up his relationships with Suitcase and Balloon big time over not trusting that Balloon actually wanted to be better, and assuming that he couldn’t change. But he has learned his lesson!! Not only has he seen and acknowledged that Balloon changed, apologized to and befriended him, but Nickel changed too!! Hooray!! His ass would not want to make that mistake again. As well, we’ve heard from Brian recently that Nickel low-key admires what Taco pulled off in season 1. Not as much so after his character development, but still, he feels more positively about her true personality than her fake one!! That is not the general sentiment among the s1 cast!! They’re standing next to each other during the concert at the end of the finale, and he even sings backup for her during the reprise of “She Forgot”!. They have clearly already become friends, I’m not taking criticism on this one actually. They’re both sarcastic little shits trying to be better people! Nickel could empathize with the automatic-response-being-something-mean thing!! Also, since Suitcase does not want to see him (valid) he and Baseball should probably make some new friends anyways! Might as well chat with another mostly-alone object, yeah? Sigh. Two mean shorties against the world. On their own there might be a risk of them making each other worse but I think the people around them could keep that from happening. I really love Nico(?) friendship. 

Marshmallow: Mepad mourning. They were both the players helped the most by Mepad, they’re mourning his loss the most (other than Toilet, more on him next ;)) and I think they could connect over that, especially with Taco trying to be more open and honest emotionally, just like Mepad was helping her to be, yeah? Her grief over Mepad is a good place to start. They were also some of the first two contestants to realize how bad the game was for those involved and their relationships. Even if it took Taco longer to get there, they end up sharing the same negative view towards the game before the others do! This was even mentioned in the pre-episode 17 stream!! They also both have a complicated relationship with Knife! We don’t get to see too much of how Marsh feels towards Knife after the whole heroic-sacrifice, but I don’t see her immediately being all buddy-buddy with him. And Taco, who is confirmed to care about his well-being don’t argue with me on this one, has the whole thing with him and Mic going, and he might even be more watchful of her as she and Mic continue to patch things up and work towards healthy yuri. Going back to Marsh not totally forgiving Knife, this could help Taco with better understanding how Pickle feels about her. Knife wronged Marsh pretty hard in the past, and even if he’s sorry and has changed, she can still feel hurt and not want to forgive him. And she could vent these feelings to Taco when they’re talking about Knife!! And this is so so similar to how Taco greatly wronged Pickle in the past, and even if she’s sorry and wants to change, he can still feel hurt and not want to forgive her. With lower empathy, it can be really helpful for someone to explain how they feel about something and why, so I think someone more willing to explain a similar situation to her (since Pickle will not be sitting down with her and explaining how he feels) could really help her out in learning to back off and let Pickle live his life even if that life doesn’t include her. Mepad is incredibly proud of both of them frfr Mepad said so in a cameo. 

Toilet: Before I start this one I’d like to clarify I will also not be taking criticism here Toico friendship is so very inevitable you don’t even know. I got a cameo from @justin-chapmanswers right after the finale because I was so very sad about Mepad and they confirmed to me that Toilet and Taco could and would bond over missing Mepad. Toico friendship is “so incredibly important” AND I COULD NOT AGREE MORE. He was the only person that they had to care for them and that believed in them for a period of time each and now, even if Taco has Mic back, they’re both missing that bond they had with him because he’s dead (I am so MeSad). Toilet’s persistence with people would also be really important to their connection! Despite how Mephone constantly yelled at and belittled him, Toilet kept going and stayed kind and dutiful to him! And while that did make their relationship unhealthy, I think it could be beneficial to Toico friendship! Taco is trying to change and do better, but as I believe I said previously that’s not linear. She is going to lash out or fall back on old habits at some point, what matters is that she apologizes and keeps trying to be better. She’s not going to apologize to Toilet after years of this treatment like Mephone did, she will, in her process of growth, apologize to him when she knows she’s hurt him, and she will make sure to treat him better. And her doing this consistently when she messes up is key!!! Because Toilet is Toilet, we love Toilet in this house, and he’ll forgive her. And they will talk about how important Mepad was to them, and it will be healing and beautiful. Again I will be taking 0 criticism on this Toico friendship is everything to me actually. She can sit on his head like where he carried the spaghetti in episode 1. Oh no I’m listening to the cameo again and now I am crying /vpos. 

Pepper: Yeah i ship tacopep too what are you gonna do about it i want taco to be loved. But more seriously, I think these two could make a really solid connection. Pepper is another one of the season 1 contestants that didn’t interact too much with the fake-Taco that competed in season 1, so there wasn’t much of a connection there to be spoiled. She probably jumped on the hate-train thanks to Salt, but maybe she should spend a bit less time with Salt anyways, yeah? Branch out some more. Which she could do with Taco! Take one look at Taco and tell me she doesn’t love to gossip. Taco and Pepper could probably gossip for hours, I mean, Taco has surely missed a lot of gossip having been outside of the hotel for so long. And Pepper gets to lead the conversation and talk!! Taco does try to take control of situations automatically, but hey, she’s trying to change for the better, and maybe not try to scheme and mastermind quite as much, yeah? And Pepper could do well being more assertive having been made to follow whatever Salt is doing. I think this friendship would need to pick up a bit later down the line for Taco to be in a place where she isn’t trying to take over so often and Pepper to be in a place where she’s not keeping herself attached to Salt, but I do think it could be a sweet and healthy friendship! Also I tend to think of them both as lesbians and sometimes you need a lesbian best friend to discuss Women with.

Candle: Would immediately be able to tell that Taco needs some serious therapy/help. And Candle loves to be needed for therapy/help! Perfect match! But really, Candle managed to tame both Yin-Yang and Silver over the course of a season, she could definitely help Taco out!! And it would be pretty difficult for Taco to keep her true feelings hidden from someone who can tell what’s happening just by looking at her! She would hate that at first but it would be helpful for her. I do think she would dislike Candle’s salt rock thingy though, it would probably just rile her up more. BUT really I think Candle could be a good help to Taco as she recovers. Candle will help everyone after all the stuff from the finale I think, which would not at all be a way to cope with everything. Keeping herself busy. Being needed in the way she was made to need. This isn’t a Candle analysis aaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Goo: My #1 and #3 must be friends, it’s mandatory (my #2 is Mepad, of course). Taco’s miserable and messy self could absolutely use a visit from the cheer factory, and I think she’d get one! I think Goo would be able to take the news of being created by Mephone better than you’d think, honestly. His best friend was created by Fan and Test Tube, so what if they’re created by Mephone, y’know? That just makes them more like his best buddy Bot!! Not being able to be recovered might make him anxious, but that’s just an unfortunate truth that they’re all going to need to get used to. (Unless whatever the Shimmers are giving them is a recovery device. Brian said it’s up to interpretation but i do not want to interpret i want answers!!). Okay, back to Gooco friendship. He’s such a positive, genuine, and sweet little fella it’s pretty hard for anyone not to like him, and that includes Taco!! Someone she not only doesn’t have baggage with, but she has never even met coming to cheer her up? She has had very few positive interactions with others over the years, this is meaningful to her!!! Being around a positive little thinker like Goo could be good for her, AND they are at perfect hugging height for one another. I don’t see Taco giving out too much physical affection but I can very much see her enjoying it even if she won’t admit it. AND AND having lived in the woods for so long, Taco would know the best place to find his beloved pinecones.

Tea Kettle: She already has one little gremlin child in Nickel, what’s another one? Seriously!! I’m not sure if it would exactly be a friendship, probably the more motherly dynamic she has with Nickel, Balloon, and quite a few other characters, but new mom acquired is not a category so she goes here. Taco, who has been living in the woods for years needing to scavenge and steal for food, would enjoy some hors d'oeuvres!! And this would immediately endear her to Tea Kettle, since she loves it so much when people eat her food (adorable). She, like Candle, and probably everyone else at this point, would pretty easily be able to tell that Taco needs some extra TLC, and like the other s3 joiners, doesn’t have anything personal against Taco. Her motherly instincts would immediately kick in, and again such casual kindness and affection for Taco after all this time? Everything. Key to Taco’s recovery and self-betterment. Also, Taco loves tea!!! TK would refill her cup without even being asked <3. 

Tier 3: Pleasant Acquaintances 

Lightbulb: OKAY OKAY OKAY I KNOW. Lightbulb would be sweet and friendly and silly and herself and would absolutely 1000% consider herself friends with Taco! Them only being acquaintances is fully on Taco. It’s not because she has a personal problem with Lightbulb though! We have heard from the crew (questionnaire after one of the finale screenings, I believe) that Lightbulb reminds Taco a lot of how she used to act in season 1. The earlier she is in her recovery, the harder that would be for her, yeah? There’s also the fact that Lightbulb would have been her choice to partner up with had Mic been eliminated earlier. I like to interpret this as canon, not just on a meta level, that Taco actually had Lightbulb picked as her second choice. With Taco trying to be better, she’d probably feel guilty about that when interacting with Lightbulb,  and especially seeing how close she is with her allies friends. They might be able to be actual friends in the future, but in general Lightbulb might be a bit much for Taco. Though I’ll reiterate that Lightbulb would consider her a friend!! And include her in activities and be kind to her!! Because Lightbulb is sweet and lovely like that, the silliest goose of them all <3.

Apple: They’d probably interact a bit because of Taco’s friendship with Marsh, but Apple isn’t someone I’d see her seeking out for companionship, due to her being a little dumb <3. It’s okay we still love her, but Taco might not. She would be nice to Apple, because if Apple is upset then Marsh is upset at whatever caused it, yeah? And because it’s the right thing to do and all, but this latter reason might take a bit longer to kick in as Taco changes for the better.^^ Also, whether or not Apple knows that Taco was acting and isn’t just an entirely different person is still a bit muddled, so that would be a bit weird, yeah?

The Floor: Honestly just a nice, chill guy, don’t think he’d have any issues with Taco. She would see his movement as reminiscent of Mepad’s teleporting, which would give her the blues, but that’s not really Floory’s fault. Another teleporting assistant… Ah, well, my conspiracy can wait for another day. I don’t have too much to say for this pair, to be honest. I think they’d get along okay and everything, I just don’t see them seeking each other out as much as they each would with some others. Oh, they would both like to go on picnics, so that’s definitely a setting in which they’d interact! I do think The Floor and Toilet could be good friends, so they might end up hanging out together if they’re both with Toilet.^^ Besides, I can’t imagine him staying on Inanimate Island instead of returning to Paradise, since it is his home, so he’d stay more connected with the other s3 players rather than the other casts. 

Cabby: Honestly Taco would probably be a little jealous that Cabby won. Definitely impressed by her skillful observations of others, though! Taco is observant too, so they could discuss that if they are together, but I don’t think they’d actively seek each other out, like Taco and The Floor. Cabby is also more likely to return to Paradise since that is where her library was, and Taco’s history might make Cabby wary, since she struggled with being seen that way in season 3. I don’t think she’d hold it against Taco in a personal way, but it might dissuade her from really forming a bond with Taco. Overall, I love them both, they could be perfectly friendly with each other, but I don’t really see them forming a strong connection. Earlier season 3 Cabby, though? They could be the power duo of all time. Even post-canon a team up between them would be incredibly skilled and efficient, I just don’t see it as too likely to happen. 

Silver Spoon: We already know what Silver thinks of Taco! He thinks she is a Queen and an Icon and he’s right! He would approach Taco the easiest out of the invitationals, and would very much want her approval. I do not think Taco would like him very much. She’d get annoyed by him pretty easily, I think. They’re both British, so that could be a point of interest for him to try and connect for her, but seeing as neither of them are actually from Britain and were just programmed to have a British accent (and like tea!) that might fizzle out. And again the fact that Taco would not be able to stand him. Silver would try to get on her good side by complimenting her act in season 1, which would Not Sit Well with her at all. She would storm away from him and he would be devastated. It might be easier for them to interact if Candle is around to mediate, but I don’t know if they’d get along too well, at least initially. He remains in pleasant acquaintances because he is very pleasant towards her in his own Silver Spoony way, and considers her a friend, but it is one-sided, he is lying to himself <3. 

Bot: A split between Goo really liking Taco and Fan and Test Tube not being sure about her. She did shoot and kill Test Tube. And electrocuted Fan. In front of their first child. So yeah not sure their second child would be super keen on being friends with Taco, but they would still be amiable. As a part of the Cheer Factory, they’d join Goo in his cheering up quest, and they could strike up a conversation if they happened to be alone together, but this is another relationship I can’t see either party really seeking out. Their VA is British though, so Bot could probably do a fair impression of Taco. Not that Taco would like that, but y’know, it’s neat, yeah?

Blueberry: He doesn’t make many friends in general, and neither does Taco for that matter. I think combined they could be an absolutely killer duo, could dominate a competition together, but outside of that? I’d say more of a mutual sense of respect for being powerful shorties, but not much of an actual bond. He might be a welcome presence if Taco needs to stew in her negative emotions for a while, as one does, but if she wants to feel better she’d need to go to someone else. Honestly, they might be kept apart on purpose, because those little schemers could probably take over the island together if they really wanted to. But, Taco is trying to change and Mic certainly wouldn’t approve, so she wouldn’t want to. Jury’s still out on Blueberry though. Also, he’s another one I’d see returning to Paradise, less people there, yeah? So their interactions would be limited either way. 

Lifering: Nice, friendly guy! He might interact with Taco through Tea Kettle, or through general check-ups. With his medical training, or rather the knowledge he was programmed with, he’d definitely interact with everyone on both islands at one point or another. I wouldn’t imagine Taco being a big fan of such medical check-ups though, with how private of a person she generally is, and that might play into how she views him. He’d definitely do his best not to frighten anyone including Taco, and she would appreciate his work, she just wouldn’t be able to shake the lingering unease surrounding him, and he’d be able to respect that and give her space as long as she needs it. If he found her crying, he’d give her a squeeze and then get someone better equipped to help her, that sort of thing. She might eventually get more comfortable with him, and maybe they could share a plate of hors d'oeuvres, even if I don’t see them forming a super deep connection :) I think they could get along after some time. 

Tissues: I think they could have a sort of understanding in Mephone making things difficult for them. He was made to always be sick (fucked up) and she was made to manipulate and hurt people (fucked up). She might get annoyed with him, definitely, but she’d try not to. With the infinite tea generation I headcanon her having, she could pull out a nice warm cup from her shell and give it to him to soothe his sinuses and sore throat, and I think he’d really appreciate that. There’s also an advantage to the fact that they’re only meeting after the big reveal of all the contestants being made by Mephone and running the red line game, Taco’s never been annoyed, hateful, or mocking towards him about his sickness. Tissues is owed a lot of apologies from quite a few cast members, and Taco is actually not one of them! They can also both pull things out of their heads, which I think is cute. That wouldn’t really contribute to a relationship. I just like little guys who can pull things out of their heads!!!^^

Clover: Like Lightbulb, I think Clover would consider Taco a friend! She’d consider pretty much everyone a friend, the sweetheart she is. As Brian once posted, she would find Taco very funny! Taco is trying to change though, so wouldn’t want to be seeing Clover as useful. She might be interested in the luck stuff, but the happy-go-lucky attitude might be a bit much for Taco. Trying to plan for Clover’s luck would be insanely frustrating, since schemes aren’t the only thing Taco could plan(!), and that might turn Taco away from Clover. She’s yet another one I see returning to Paradise, so they wouldn’t interact much, which is probably for the better on Taco’s end. Taco would probably like the butterflies though, because who doesn’t like butterflies, yeah?

Tier 4: Neutral

Bomb: Didn’t really interact with Taco in the first season, despite having been in an alliance with her for a short time, but he is clearly good friends with Pickle, so he wouldn’t be reaching out to her any time soon. Not that I think Pickle would be explicitly telling anyone or even hinting to them not to be friends with Taco even if he himself doesn’t want to, he’s not that kind of guy, but I think Bomb would stick close to Pickle, which means not interacting with Taco much. Yeah, he wasn’t personally hurt by her betrayal or anything, but he mostly knows her as the person who hurt his bestie Pickle, so not exactly keen on her either. Taco would be pretty neutral on him right back, but would be glad that Pickle has made new friends and is being well taken-care of despite everything that went down between them. 

Knife: Hoo boy, okay, he is in the neutral category, but feel free to read him as “it’s complicated.” He’s also close with Pickle, seeing firsthand and likely the most of how Taco’s betrayal impacted him, and he was watching over Mic during and after her alliance with Taco, so he isn’t exactly happy with her. But as was confirmed by Brian, so you can’t argue with me on this one, he does care for her well-being. He sees some of himself in Taco. As much as he accuses Taco of projecting onto him in Truth or Flare, they’re really both projecting onto each other. Taco also cares about his well-being!!! (this is also confirmed by brian) Whether or not it’s because he’s someone close to Pickle and Mic, she does care, even if she doesn’t show it. Knife is dead now, too. That might complicate things. Taco though she would be dead forever, and hell, she might have been if Knife hadn’t put pressure on Mephone with Mepad, while Knife spent most of his life thinking of death as meaningless and something that barely even applied to him. One of them survived, and one of them didn’t. They’re such an interesting duo, I really really want to know more of the plan for that body swap episode so so so bad!! Anyone wanna venmo me 30 bucks to get another cameo from Justin so I can fish for info? /j Anyways. Knife would be very wary of her reconciling with Mic and would be watchful to make sure she doesn’t bother Pickle, but he would be proud, in a sense, seeing how she improves. I can’t say he’d help much, as I’m not sure if his tough-love sort of help for people would be super beneficial for Taco, and they’re still not super friendly, but I think they could have a moment of getting along-ness every once in a while. Suitcase might rub off on Knife even more with her never-give-up-on-anyone philosophy, which would lead him to back off on keeping an eye on her a bit more. If anything were to happen to Mic, she would be well protected by these two. AAAAAAAA. Taco and Knife are such an interesting duo, I can’t emphasize this enough. Knife who has already changed, and Taco is who is starting to change. This one has gotten way too long, in short, it’s complicated but more positive than negative post-finale. 

Paintbrush: As long as Taco isn’t mean to Lightbulb, I don’t think Painty would feel too strongly either way. Probably unhappy when they find out that Taco shot two of their friends but. They seemed pretty okay with Taco’s presence in act II of the movie, and weren’t incredibly harsh on Taco during the pre-act II stream (if I recall correctly, this one is a bit more blurry tbh) even if they weren’t very pro-Taco either. Didn’t have an extreme reaction to Lightbulb mentioning Taco when they showed up during Truth or Flare either, so that’s another point towards Painty being neutral towards Taco. Might even empathize with how quick-to-anger Taco can be, she could get invited to a painting lesson or something. But really, as long as Taco is civil with Lightbulb (and Baxter), and doesn’t murder Fan or Test Tube again, I think they can coexist without any malice or issues. 

Yin-Yang: Yang would like Taco a lot! Yin would be kind of scared of her. Thus, neutral. Yang would admire her sabotage and trickery, which isn’t exactly what she wants to be liked for, but, well, it’s Yang so he’s gonna do what he wants. Yin would be pretty wary of her, and probably avoid her in fear of whatever mischief she and Yang could create with their powers combined. My partner once drew a cute illustration of Yin-Yang stealing and eating a topping out of her head, which I liked very much, and were that to happen I think Taco would dislike Yin-Yang. It would be very rude to eat one of her toppings, especially without asking first. My partner, who I regard as the resident Yin-Yang expert between us, also mentioned them both having a “that-could-have-been-me” sort of connection with OJ, in the sense of how Taco was so close to getting the win that OJ got, and Yin-Yang was so close to getting eliminated instead of OJ. Had it not been for the immunity votes, Yin-Yang would have been the first Thinker out. Had it not been for Bow and all the other chaos that was going down during season 1’s finale, Taco would have been the first winner of Inanimate Insanity. And we know that Yin-Yang and OJ clashed during their residence in the Hotel, and Taco just dislikes OJ after everything, so maybe they could have a little anti-OJ club to get their frustrations out, who knows. Suitcase is still a bit miffed about him eliminating her unfairly that one time, so maybe she could join a little complain-about-OJ session once in a while. 

Box: New to the group, so probably doesn’t even find out about Taco’s past for some time, but at the same time she isn’t the most social tool on the shed. And neither is Taco. So I can’t see either one reaching out to the other for a friendship. Box might like that Taco never pretended their corpse was alive, even if it was possibly because she never had the opportunity to interact with Box in general. I might see Taco taking more of the Trophy stance in that she doesn’t see Box’s corpse as alive, which, since it was a corpse, is objectively correct. Albeit with less violence than Trophy handled Box with. They might talk due to both of them being around Suitcase from time to time, but I’d more view them as two relatively introverted people who simply don’t seek a connection with each other. [Also, putting a Box conspiracy here, but does anyone else think her inclusion specifically is why season 2 had an uneven amount of contestants in-canon. Like, the season 2 cast would have been developed before the whole MeLife twist, but on a non-meta level, it was probably Box being included in the cast that made the numbers wonky. 19 contestants? A prime number? What? 18 would make sense, or 20, but 19? Because Box was added in with the actual living contestants, because Mephone couldn’t bring himself to exclude her, which brought the number of players up to 19. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.]

Cherries: Probably a bit childish for Taco’s taste in friends. And for Cherries, them always wanting a reaction… Well if Taco was pranked, she would not react well, and they might be hard pressed to get her to laugh especially if she already dislikes them due to being pranked. She is quite the actor, so even if she does find a joke or two funny, she’s not gonna break. And then Cherries would get bored of trying to make her laugh, and move on to someone they can get a better reaction from. Unless they try roping Taco into their little schemes before they prank her, then I can see a more positive relationship forming. Either way, I don’t see them as consistently seeking each other out for companionship. 

Fan: Taco electrocuted him that one time. So, not exactly a great start. Especially since it was while he was talking to the Shimmers. The Shimmers, one of which was his infant child… A really bad start, then. I don’t see Fan as a very hateful guy, honestly. Passionate, sure, but doesn’t strike me as the type to stay angry for very long. He wouldn’t be approaching Taco for friendship any time soon, and would probably tell Bot that they should be wary around her, but I also think he would respect Taco’s effort to change and let bygones be bygones in the end. Taco probably wouldn’t approach him either, other than apologizing for electrocuting him and shooting Test Tube (she should apologize for that, and Mic would make sure she does). Would probably want to know more about Taco’s strategy and experiences during the first season, but also has the self-restraint not to ask. 

Test Tube: Less forgiving than Fan, but would follow his lead in not holding a huge grudge towards her. She wouldn’t trust Taco at all, but she wouldn’t fall into malicious territory like what ended up happening with Cabby. Taco would be wary of Test Tube too, especially after the other apology she gives Test Tube, for breaking into her “secret” lab and stealing things. Testy might actually take that one worse than the apology for murdering her. Despite that, I do see Test Tube letting Taco keep the white invisibow that Mepad was wearing when he was killed. This would probably happen before Taco confesses to murder, assault, breaking and entering, and theft anyways, but I see Test Tube letting her keep it. Random act of kindness while Taco is mourning him, yeah? She is the one who gave him the bow after all. Testy wouldn’t love Taco, and would also warn Bot to be careful around her and come to her right away if she has any problems, but could coexist with Taco. 

Tier 5: No

Mephone: Yeah, this is an obvious one. Beyond the fact that he’s left to give the contestants space, at least for the time being, Taco would be pretty damn mad at him after everything. Whether he made them subconsciously or not, he made her to be manipulative and unpredictable and to betray the people she cares about. Thinking further on that, he also didn’t plan anything good for her, unlike other villainous characters. Balloon and Knife both got redemption arcs, Silver got a girlboss, but Taco? She got another “ally” to inevitably lose, years of homelessness and isolation, and not even a million squats. Not to mention his reaction to her during Truth or Flare. Sure, it is reasonable for him not to want to see her, especially with how she acts in the episode, but not wanting to recover her? That’s really fucked up. Seriously. Thank god for Mepad. I can and would very much argue that Taco is the most mistreated contestant by Mephone4. She would not want to see him ever again, and I think if she did see him and he tried to talk with her it would not go well. So, this one is a definite no. 

OJ: She and OJ did interact relatively frequently in season 1, and while I’m not sure exactly how betrayed he would have felt by her revealing her true nature, he would not like having been fooled and would very much have not liked her trying to steal his prize. I can’t see them ever really getting along again. Even if Taco does apologize to him (and out of everyone she probably should apologize to, she would hate this one the most), I don’t see that doing much. OJ is another person that saw how her betrayal affected Pickle pretty closely, and he’d still hold at least a little grudge over that. Although, if you take the “built to win” line seriously like I do, (and Brian said in the 700k stream that it was up to interpretation- hah! Vindication! Kind of! Enough for me!!!) their dynamic can be a lot more interesting. And even though I don’t see them ever being friends again, I do see them at some point having a moment in which they both say something like “these guys are all so weird” and then looking at each other awkwardly and proceeding to ignore each other entirely for the next week or so. They’re both drama queens, yeah, but in comparison to some of the other characters they can be a bit more… reasonable? Doesn’t seem like quite the right word. Grounded? Doesn’t seem right either. Hopefully this is still comprehensible, but regardless, these two would not be friends.

Paper: My guy screeched in terror when she was seen in the hotel. I don’t think it’s gonna happen, especially if OJ isn’t befriending her in any way. He wouldn’t be happy about her trying to steal his boyfriend’s prize and is another who got to see Pickle growing depressed after her betrayal, so he’d keep his negative view on her. I don’t think he’d be as scared of her post-canon, especially seeing her trying to avoid violence by Mic’s demand, so I suppose that’s something. I am so very sorry, menu squad fans, I love them too, but I think that ship has long since sailed. I honestly don’t have very much to say for Paper, I feel like he’s a pretty obvious one, though they don’t actually interact that much. He doesn’t like her, and has a boyfriend who really doesn’t like her, so they’re not going to be connecting any time soon. I do think he would feel more sympathetic to her plights than OJ, as the more emotionally intelligent one between them, but would leave helping her to people closer to her. 

Salt: Taco would find her annoying, mostly. Especially after she and Pepper become friends, and Pepper vents about some of her frustrations with Salt to Taco, Taco wouldn’t be a fan of hers. Salt wouldn’t like Taco because she tried to steal OJ’s prize, and Salt is all gross and very weird about OJ. There’s a reason why she got the least votes in the latest plushie poll. Even Taco, who doesn’t really like Paper or OJ, would want Salt to back off and tell her to do so even if she had to be a tad aggressive about it. It shouldn’t always have to fall on poor Pepper especially when she starts branching out towards new people and relationships. Taco wouldn't be payjay's biggest fan or anything, but she wouldn't be upset over them or anything. Taco herself is gay. WLW and MLM solidarity!!!!

Trophy: She would beat him in a bunch of stuff (some by cheating, some fairly) and he would hate her like the sore loser of all time he is. She would probably just find him annoying, like a less-tolerable version of Blueberry, maybe. I can see them both getting banned from game night, Trophy because he can’t take a loss and Taco for cheating, of course, and attempting to hang out together in protest. I suppose they could bond that way, but I’d lean more towards them either arguing or getting annoyed with each other and agreeing to never hang out again. Might casually flip each other off in the hallways, not from hatred but from mutual acknowledgment that the other is kind of an asshole sometimes. I think it’s beautiful <3. 

Dough: She’d only have to see him when she’s in the mansion, which is definitely for the best. They wouldn’t seek each other out, ever. Taco would find him very annoying, and would hate any and all of his Bow imitating or discussion. She never met him, she does not care about him, and he’d probably feel the same way about her. Not much to say about this one, but I. Well. It’s Dough. I’m so sorry Dough fans but I have never had much to say about him. 

Cheesy: Yeah Taco would find him annoying too. He and Mic are on better terms now, so they might sometimes find themselves in the same place, but Taco might soon have to leave that place because she is getting so annoyed with him. He probably wouldn’t dislike her or anything, but he wouldn’t really like her either, seeing as she wouldn’t be the best audience member for him. Poor guy is gonna have to find some new material again, seeing as none of them have mamas and bringing that up is definitely in poor taste at the moment. Yikers. But yeah, another one who will not be friends with Taco because they would be too much for her. 

Bow: Taco’s least favorite person! Bow is the reason that Taco lost season 1, and I don’t think Taco is ever going to get over that. (Especially if you interpret the “built to win” line literally like I do~~~). Taco would avoid her like the plague, and probably regard her as a plague on the world too. Would very much not enjoy having to live in the same building as Bow, for however long it takes until they have another building established, since Taco would probably move out the second she could as long as Mic was down to move with her. Anything to get away from Bow. I can not emphasize enough how much Taco hates Bow. Despises her. Would rather stick her arms into a pothole full of piranhas than be in Bow’s presence. That plastic pink headgear is the absolute worst object on the planet to her. Bow doesn’t really care either way. Unless Taco is openly aggressive to her, she’s neutral. But Taco would probably antagonize her at one point or another, so Bow would probably end up disliking her too, just not as passionately.

Tier 6: Pickle

Pickle: Sigh. My fellow Taco lovers. It’s not gonna happen, guys. Pickle and Taco friendship is not going to happen ever again. I KNOW. Taco wants it!! You want it!! I want it too!!! I have been a fan since season 1 was airing, I of all people would love to see them be friends again. But Pickle doesn’t want that, so I’m going to respect it. Taco would probably try apologizing to him once or twice more before backing off, probably being able to do so and really start to move on with the help of Mic, Nickel, and/or Marsh. She does shake her head and move past things during the red line game! It’s a good start! Even if I think she would give it another shot (because in apologizing more she comes to realize how bad her first apology was. Yeesh. Girl I’m your biggest supporter, I am a certified Taco apologist, but damn). But! Regardless of the fact that they’re not going to be friends again, it’s not as though they’re going to be enemies! Taco wants to be better, especially towards Pickle. And as for Pickle, he just isn’t that sort of guy, yeah? He doesn’t want to be friends with Taco or give her another chance, which is fully fair and valid, but it’s not as though he wants her to suffer either!! If she like, fell and broke her leg or smth, he would willingly carry her to get help, yeah? If they both happen to be in the kitchen and she’s struggling to reach something on the top shelf, he’d grab it for her. He’s chill and especially after a longer period of time when he’s been able to heal further and be okay with seeing her around, they could just be… okay. Not friends, but okay. He would show up to the Tacomic wedding. 

Tier 7: PLEASE COME BACK I MISS YOU SO MUCH

Mepad: PLEASE COME BACK KING I CAN’T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU SUPPORTIVE ICON. HE IS IN TIER 7 BECAUSE HE IS DEAD AND THAT MAKES ME SO VERY SAD. I MISS YOU SO MUCH MEPAD MY BELOVED MEPAD. I MISS THE OLD SEASON 2 UPLOAD SCHEDULE I CAN’T HANDLE TACOPAD GETTING GIVEN TO US AND TAKEN AWAY WITHIN LIKE 4 MONTHS. GIVE US 4 YEARS AS GOD INTENDED /J. ANYWAYS MEPAD WOULD BE ON THE TIPPY TOP TIER IF HE WAS STILL ALIVE MY WONDERFUL MEPAD YOU WILL BE FOREVER IN MY HEART. ONCE I GET MY HANDS ON YOUR PLUSHIE I WILL MAKE YOU AND MY TACO PLUSH HUG IT IS MANDATORY. 

Okay, 13 pages later and that’s everyone! If you’ve read every entry, wow!!! Thanks!!! That’s a lot of reading and a lot of rambles you saw!!! If you skipped to your favorites, that’s also fair!!! Thanks for reading either way!!!^^ I have so very many thoughts about Taco, so it’s nice to get some written out!! :3

[toxicanonymity]

Imagine Slasher sees a man entering (or leaving?) Kitten's house, while he's stalking watching her. How would he react, what would he do? 👀

Thank you for all this 🖤🖤🫂

trainsgiving

SLASHER JOEL x f!READER | PLAYLIST | WC: 900

ENTERING! Let's do entering. And you're quite welcome. I hope this rascal makes some of you smile. Love you, Milla. 🖤🖤

WARNINGS: 18+ dark fic. Unsafe/dark sexual behavior, degradation, humiliation, slasher being slasher, cucking, dubcon/noncon but it's okay cause he ain't got no soul.

Joel watches from outside and perks up when your living room light switches off, and a dim orange light in your bedroom turns on. Yeah, let's go. He doesn’t have much of a view, so he creeps around back to the sliding door of your kitchen. And look at that, the door isn’t even locked.

This is big. An opportunity to see you whoring around. Catch you in the act. He’s not gonna blow it: unlike the other times he’s broken in, he doesn’t make a sound. He even takes off his shoes and leaves them outside. 

You little sex kitten…you even left your bedroom door open. He takes a seat on your living room couch which faces away from your bedroom. He rests his elbow over the back of the sofa and angles himself so he can watch. He doesn’t see much, at first. Just the silhouette of some loser awkwardly lying on his side on your bed, presumably facing you.

Then there are kissing sounds. Gross. You must have thought the same. You don’t sound impressed when you stop and ask the poor guy, “Uh, ok. Can we just uh–” 

And then you’re on top of him. Attagirl. That's the kitten Joel knows. You take off your shirt. Well, damn. You look sexy as hell from this angle.

“You’re so pretty,” the guy gushes softly. Joel rolls his eyes. That guy totally has a cuck voice. You lean forward, still with your skirt on, although it’s riding up. Your hips move, a little. He pulls your head down for a kiss. Dumbass. That clearly wasn’t doin’ it for ya before. Your faces connect, and while you’re not looking, Joel sneaks over to your room. He crosses his arms, holding a knife in one hand, and leaning against the doorframe.

You pull back from the bad kisser and he apologizes softly.

Joel has had enough. “Alright, just take your dick out man. That’s all she wants.”

The guy gasps. You turn around with a startle, but you don’t freak out. You're getting used to the break-ins.

“Joel,” you scold a little too calmly. “What the fuck?”

“Take it out,” Joel repeats to the guy. 

“What are you doing?” You demand. 

Joel answers, “Don’t whore around on me if ya don’t want me involved, babe.” 

The guy hesitates, and Joel uncrosses his arms. With his knife still in one hand, Joel gesticulates in front of himself, starting with both hands near his crotch. “Take… your cock…” He lifts his hands and advances them forward. “Out of your pants.” 

The guy is just staring at the knife in Joel’s hand. 

“NOW,” Joel adds, then addresses you. “God damn, I can see what you're so bored about.” 

The guy’s hands are shaking as he unzips his pants. Joel steps forward to take a look, and, well. Lol. 

“You wanna go first or second?” Joel asks. 

“W-What?” The guy stammers. 

“Trainsgiving’s come early,” Joel explains. “Go on, get her while she’s tight.” 

The man asks you, “Do you want me to-”

Joel interrupts with an exasperated sigh, then, starting in a mocking voice, “do you want me to–Shut up and do it,” Joel points at him. 

Joel gets a good look at you. He knows that look on  your face–mortified AND aroused. And when Joel gives you a little smirk, you seem to suppress one of your own. It’s clear in your eyes.  

“Okay fine, just lie there,” Joel directs the guy. “Hold it for her.” Joel turns to you. “Go on, kitty. Don’t stop whorin’ on my account.” 

You look Joel up and down, and when he palms a massive bulge in his jumpsuit, that’s enough to make you do it. 

You’re more cock hungry than anyone Joel’s ever met. Too bad this guy’s not much of a meal. That’s okay. Joel’s here.

You put a condom on the guy, and Joel laughs, “ouch.” 

When you sink down on the man, you’re hoping it’s a test. A test you’ll fail, provoking Joel into a rage.  But no, Joel stands close by and unzips his jumpsuit, staring at where your body meets the cock.

Okay, he’s not that bad, both you and Joel think to yourselves. The guy is frozen.

“What,” you ask the guy, “you don’t want this?”

"No, I do." He looks back and forth between the two of you and asks, “Does he have to be here?”

Joel is now holding the absurd girth of his own shaft and glances down at it before looking the man in the eye. “Someone’s gotta pick up the slack,” Joel complains and adds under his breath, "Make up for what you lack."

You begin to move your hips. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel decides and puts an arm around you, pulling you off the guy. You pretend to fight Joel off.

The guy asks, “Do you need help?”

“She’s fine,” Joel cuts him off. 

“I wasn’t done with him,” you protest convincingly.

The guy whispers,”What the fuck,” as he backs out of the room, still putting his dick in his pants. 

“Why are you ruining my date,” you ask Joel.

“Shut up,” Joel pushes you forward and holds you face down on the bed. He growls in your ear. “You.. filthy.. slut,” then shoves into you brutally. 

There he is, you think as you smile into the pillow and savor the incredible stretch.

[axolotsofluv]

❝𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #𝟏❞ [𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐬 𝐫. 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨]

a/n: hello everyone, how is your day going? I'd like to introduce a mini series/collection that I have in store for ratio, depicting unnamed individuals sharing their experience witnessing his dynamic with his s/o, aka you. This is purely self-indulgent and serves as an outlet for the scenarios that have been plaguing my head. I hope you enjoy them. Please excuse any mistakes, whether it's my grammar or characterization of ratio. Any questions about this are more than welcomed. Happy reading ヾ(^▽^*)))

synopsis — a collection of anonymous accounts testifying Ratio's unusual behavior.

An undergraduate working alongside Ratio was introduced to you. It wasn't an out-of-the-blue affair. Ratio hung around them quite often that they were probably the closest thing he has to a friend (sans you, naturally) and this bond was further reinforced due to them being in the same faculty program. The first thing they thought when they saw you was that you're his sister, but when they fail to see the resemblance—and well, stumbling across you both sharing a brief peck—they 've long abandoned that perception. This person confessed that they thought you were student there like them, but it turns out you went to a different university. You didn't even live close to their university.

While they aren't one to discriminate based on education, they couldn't suppress the shock upon finding out that a high caliber scholar like Ratio, who has no qualms pointing out idiocy and mediocrity, had romantic relations with you. What's more is that you two were more or less polar opposites in terms of attitude. He's critical, cynical, repudiates anyone who gets close to him with superficial motives, and couldn't stand the mere sight of idiots (hence the alabaster head), yet you're laid back, easygoing, willing to befriend just about anyone, and struggle to understand even the most basic topics that Ratio studies. Even so, he holds you in such high regard that if he were some kind of program, you would be a VVIP subscriber in possession of all the exclusive privileges. 

One day, they gathered the courage to pose a question to him that roughly translates to: just what do you see in that person? Their speaking mannerism must've given away their underlying bafflement, since Ratio shuts down the question with a click of his tongue and, in his own eloquently brusque way, tells them to mind their own business. They've seen you hang around Ratio quite often, so it was easy for them to form the opinion that you're clingy. Clingy and cheerful, which are traits that they didn't think he would be fond of. This time, Ratio dignifies them with a response. "That's precisely the issue. You don't think."

And just like before, this notion was dispelled when they overheard you telling Ratio to socialize more without your presence, to which he responds with: “I'll keep that in mind. But do know that I won't stop extending an invitation for you to join me.” 

“Oh, c'mon. You should hang out with other people more. What would your peers think if they only ever see you with me?” 

“You are sorely mistaken if you think I have even a speck of regard for their opinions.” 

They conversed with you more following that discovery and threw the questions they've always wanted to ask Ratio at you, taking comfort in the fact that they don't have to fear being pummeled by a chalk projectile or have their confidence incinerated by his scathing words. 

“Do you ever face judgment for dating him?” They started. You responded with a nonchalant nod.

They took your expectant stare as permission to proceed. “And are you bothered by it?”

You cupped your chin with a hum. “A little? Who wouldn't be discouraged by such negativity? But…” The undergrad perked up. “At the end of the day, does it really matter? I know Veritas isn't a shallow man. I won't torture myself with ‘what-ifs’ or doubt just because people can't understand what he sees in me.”

The more they talked, the more this person became aware of just how prematurely they had judged you. You might not have any PhD under your belt or any noteworthy innovations, but in your words: “everyone has a part to play. Veritas has a passion in education and the gift to support it. I have neither. Why pursue something I have no interest in? Besides, aren't diplomas and titles supposed to be concrete evidence of one's competency in their respective field? If so, there's no need for me to undermine their values and liken them to jewelry people hoard just to flaunt them, is there?”

They were starting to see why Ratio could connect with you. Your words, while devoid of his characteristic elegance, resonates with the same brand of wisdom and self-assurance that he carries. Unwilling to bend to people's expectation, acknowledging one's strength and desires, the slight jab at how the world of academia is not that far apart from people vying for prestige as opposed to improving livelihoods.

The mold that incarcerated their capacity to understand you as a person disappeared. Now when they see you and Ratio, they perceive you as you truly are. Someone who's sincerely proud of him as a scholar and as a person. Someone willing to set aside their misgivings over a complex study just to grant him a personal audience. Someone who doesn't reduce him to this unidimensional depiction of an untouchable deity among man, but rather a person with the ability to aid humanity's progression and the earnest intention to see it through. Someone with the guts to rein in his acerbic words when they begin to stray beyond the boundary of what's acceptable. 

For the longest of time, this unnamed student had always seen Ratio the same way most people do—a genius scholar, no more and no less. But as they watch the aforementioned person gaze at you with a spark that shines brighter than when he looks at math equations, they knew that their mindset was in need of a revision. At the end of the day, not even Ratio can stand to resist the lulling notes of love.

[motheroffeline]

Apologize

Pairing: Toxic! Professor! Terry Richmond x Black! Fem! Virgin! Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, abuse of power, P in D, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), humiliation, and a bit of choking.

Summary: your parents practically pushed you to pursue college because at first you were considering starting an Only Fans account. At first glance you seem like a respectable young lady but once again what did outer appearances tell you? Nothing really. Pushing other people's boundaries is your forte and going against the grain is what gives you a thrill: that is until a certain man puts you in your place. Thoughts? You guys can give me feedback since I do want to improve my writing. I may be delusional in most cases but if something doesn't read well then, I will improve on it. Other than that, enjoy!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was raining as you walked to class and the only place you wanted to be right now was home in your own bed not a disgusting dorm room but a warm bed. Your parents made sure to spoil you at every interval in your life which started to have dire consequences. At some point, the money flow got a bit short, so you planned on starting a literal Only Fans. Of course, it didn't work because why else would you be walking in the rain to a place you don't want to go? As you walked in, everybody was already seated and staring at you like there were horns on your head.

You decided to sit in the far back away from everyone else because no one knew you and you didn't know them. The professor came in a few minutes later and he was... quite younger and better looking than you would have imagined but the thought dissipated as he began to speak.

"Hello, my name is Terry Richmond, and I will have the satisfaction of teaching all of you. For starters, if you have any questions about an exam or something that you don't get you can either talk about it here or email me. As for me, I am a former marine and you may have heard about me from certain other sources. Today we will be learning about general history or in specifics: 19th century customs and how these customs have changed or dissolved over the years." His eyes were so captivating you didn't hear a damn word he said but you'd be damned if you asked him to repeat anything. Something about him spelled strictness and good work ethnic which you did not have, nor did you ever expect to have.

The strict nature that he seemed to have made you want to test him though, see what type of shit he was on. You had lost many friends in the past because of how unapologetically conniving you were at times but who needed real life friends? Everybody that you talked to either came off of Discord or Twitter and that was enough human interaction in your opinion.

You pulled out your laptop and begin to log into your canvas and to your horror the assignments seemed endless. Even in high school you had other people do your assignments because the work was just too much to do. And it was history, probably the most boring subject out there but Terry taught it with vigor and eagerness.

"In 19th century England, mourning behavior had developed a strict system of rules which involved women wearing heavy black clothing, and the usage of black crepe veils. The wealthy would often wear cameos or lockets designed to hold a lock of the deceased's hair or a similar relic. Before I go on, can anyone note how mourning has changed in the 21st century? For example, do you believe that mourning has become more a private practice?" You had found yourself about to go to sleep listening to him talk on and on about what some old English ladies used to do. Some part of you just wanted to scream live in the fucking present! But you were in general history after all.

Rolling your eyes and wanting to walk out of class, you put your headphones on and listened to some Glorilla. Terry's eyes drifted over to where you were sitting, and his eyes narrowed. "Y/n, can you please put away your headphones? You may be in a college class but have some decorum." Begruntled, you pulled off your headphones and said, "you asked us about mourning did you not? Right now, I'm mourning the loss of my sanity. You don't even know if I was listening to music or not." Snickers and hushed comments started to dance around but Terry quickly silenced them.

"In my class, there is a no headphone policy and if you want them on you do that at your own time not mines. Matter of fact, if you want to be out of line you can do that out of my class." His voice had deepened and there was a nonchalance about how he laid the rules down. It was turning you on to be honest and you didn't know how you felt about it. The only action you had ever got in your life was from a pillow and your own fingers which, admittedly, made you kind of desperate sometimes.

He cleared his voice and continued on "now, as I was saying, customs related to mourning have changed as of recent but not much. Black is still seen as a color of grief but very few people will keep a loved one's hair or other thing of that nature behind. Social etiquette and dignity have changed quite a lot as well in modern times. For instance, in the 19th century bowing and conduct to avoid at balls were quite grandiose compared to modern times which can differ on the region where someone lives. In the South, individuals tend to be more accommodating towards social etiquette and engage in small talk which is a contrast from more Northern regions." You could hear the keys of keyboards typing and people nodding as they went along with the lesson, but you couldn't care less. It was a waiting game for you at the very least and as soon as you were allowed to leave you would be the first one at the door.

******************************************************************

It was finally time to go, and you hurriedly began collecting your things, but Terry once again stopped you in your tracks.

"Stay behind Y/n, there are some things that I have to talk with you about." He was going to make a big deal about it, and it was seen in those multicolored eyes of his. You wondered if they were contacts, but you doubt, you'd get that close to him in the first place. As people started to funnel out of the classroom a surge of anxiety took over you and you didn't even know why. This wouldn't be the first time you had tested somebody but something about this put a bad feeling in your gut.

He paced over to his desk and pulled out the seat to sit down. "Y/n, come sit down in front of me." You gulped and made your way to the seat which gave you no choice but to observe him. The man wasn't just handsome he was gorgeous in every conceivable way you could think of.

"I think that you should apologize for your outburst today, so we won't be repeating those incidents." His voice left no room for arguments, but you liked to argue so that was that.

"Dude, I just had my headphones on like I wasn't even bothering anybody, and I think it was wrong how you singled me out like that. We're all adults anyways and we paid for the class so like can you be a little less strict? For me I can't even focus unless I got some music playing." Terry kissed his teeth and leaned back in his chair as he looked at you with a judgmental look on his face.

"Excuse, that's all what that is I know you can focus for just a few minutes. The seminar wasn't even long considering that it was just an introduction to the class. You should be considerate of other people who "paid for the class" like you said." You didn't know if you were tripping or what, but he seemed to be smirking a bit. Your panties grew wet in the center, and everything was just telling you to get up and run.

"Can I go now?" You said with a tense voice. His smirk had grown quite prominent, and he wasn't even hiding his satisfaction anymore. It was clear that he wanted to put you in your place, it was almost like he was receiving some sadistic joy from seeing you be nervous.

"No, I still have some other things to talk with you about; like how your thighs are pressing together right now, what's wrong with you? Hm?" The demeanor had changed, and you noticed how his voice seemed persuasive now. "I'm going to be completely honest with you be a bitch if you want. Hell, I'll even let you get out of doing exams and assignments, but you have to do one thing for me." He stood up and began to walk around to where you were sitting, and you could smell his cologne which was a mix of tobacco, cedar, oud and shea butter.

"Show me a good time and I'll let you get away with shit is what I'm saying." It was a demand instead of a question, but you found yourself wanting to be underneath his thumb. For a long time, you were curious about being sexually intimate because it seemed like something that most people expected you had already done. But this was your professor for fuck's sake... sure, he was tantalizingly handsome but none of this could go well. The devil on your shoulder wanted to risk everything to feel his plump lips moving against yours and those lips on your other lips...

"Okay, what do you want me to do?" He was massaging your shoulders now and you wanted to moan because of how good it all felt. Doing some forbidden like this had been a hidden fantasy of yours for a while now but you actually didn't think it'd be happening right now and suddenly, college got interesting.

Terry licked his lips and tilted your chin up to look at him, "I want you ass naked in about a minute with your legs spread. Then, I'm gonna eat that pussy until you're crying, won't even be able to talk shit when I'm done with you." That proper act had gone out the window when you agreed, and you got a real sense of how debauched he was. The thought of a man between your legs sent both a thrill and some fear through you.

"Um hopefully this doesn't ruin out lil agreement thingy but I'm a virgin so I don't know what to do." Terry was standing in front of you now with that award winning smile on his face knowing that he held all the power in the situation.

"I'll guide you through everything, you ain't even gotta lift a finger. Now, take off those clothes I wanna good look at you I bet you taste good too." You shivered as the air hit your exposed body as you began to take off your clothes and his fingers immediately started twisting your ebony nipples and you mewled. Everything about it felt so... unreal. Just a moment ago he was lecturing you about the 19th century and now he was going to be your first sexual experience.

"Oh god it feels so good. Please don't stop oh my goddd." You were writhing as he twisted your nipples like little knobs slowly causing you to unravel from how intense it was.

"Feels good doesn't it? Look at how wet your pussy is you're dripping on the carpet." His fingers began rubbing your clit in gentle circular motions and you wanted to marry him in that moment. He was touching you better than you had ever touched yourself and it was driving you crazy.

"I feel like I'm gonna pee mmmmm please keep doing that..." Your arousal had formed a pool on the floor as he continued to rub your clit.

"You're not gonna pee baby you're gonna cum real nice for me." Terry slowly inserts one of his fingers inside of you stroking your g spot and you wail. Everything about the man was too damn good. There was that smirk again because he knew that he was the one in charge of your pleasure.

Suddenly, he got down in his knees in front of you and licked you from you from clit to hole. His tongue was wide basically covering most of your area with its width. The way his finger was touching your spot and the way his tongue was flicking away sent you right over the edge.

"Ahhhhh fuckkk I'm cumming!" You squirted all over his face and on the carpet which would have a suspicious stain on it tomorrow just from how much of your arousal was on it.

"You taste so damn good I could eat it for days at a time. C'mon wrap your legs around my waist I wanna make you feel good again. Scared? Shhh I know it's your first time I promise to take it slow." Terry's voice comforted you as he began to take his own clothes off and the monster between his legs shocked you. Half trusting, you put your legs around his waist and he lifted you up from the chair you were sitting in.

His eyes were peering into your soul, and you were clenching around nothing as he gave you sloppy kisses on the mouth. "You okay with this, baby? I'm gonna slide in real slow, okay?"

"Please just put it in." You said caving into your own desires and he happily obliged as you felt him push into you. He was so deep in this position it nearly knocked the wind out of you, and you took deep breaths so you wouldn't pass out while his dick was inside of you.

"Ohhh you hitting my spot!" You whined as his dick brushed against spots you could never dream of reaching with your own fingers. He was bouncing you on his dick where anybody could walk in and see the two of you. Your arousal was getting tangled up in his pubic hair as he fucked you like it was the last day on earth. Shit would never be the same after this and I think you both knew it.

"Oh, fuck baby get down I want your ass arched up in the air. Mmmm I can hit it so much deeper like that." You did as you were told and the new position, he had you in was indeed deep as fuck. His hand came to wrap around your throat with a firm hold as he began to pound into you. It was like you could feel his dick everywhere with how embedded he was in your guts. "Ohhhh shittttt gonna cum again!" You said as you squirted around his dick forcing him out.

"Goddamn you so fucking nasty. I knew it when I first laid my eyes on you I'm glad I was right. Stick out your tongue I'm gonna cum in your mouth." You looked up at him with your doe brown eyes as his toned body convulsed with an oncoming climax. Cum landed on your tits, tongue and all over your face as he spent himself on you.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Both of you were lying on the ruined carpeted trying to collect yourselves. The clock revealed that you and Terry had been going at it with each other for over three hours straight.

Terry rolled over to look at you, still naked, looking like he could go for another round. The silence was palpable occasionally interrupted by the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"Best damn apology I've ever received in my life."

[chris-prank]

I need the reaction of the baes (Vincent, Esteban and Atlas) to reader thirsting loudly for strangers online. Like full on down bad simping.

I love these kinds of ask about multiple of my ocs. This way they are all compiled in one post 😆 so thank you mellsfern! 

Now jealousy timeeeee

CW: Possessive behavior, manipulative behavior and mention/use of a syringe (in Vincent’s part) 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Vincent has been monitoring your online activities for a while now. It was his favorite thing to do after a long day of working on new inventions for Fatalité, being able to sit comfortably in front of his computer and check what you were up to.  But lately… you’ve been checking one person’s account a bit too much on Slowgram. You liked their post the second they were up, why couldn’t you be dedicated like that with him instead!? What made his blood boil the most, was the private conversation you were having with your friend about this influencer. Paragraph after Paragraph were filled with praises, words of adoration and lewd comments on what you wanted to do to them. At first he thought it was just a passing infatuation, but he couldn't keep watching you lust over someone else, it made him see red. Dr. Seraph didn’t even have to hack into that influencer's computer to find their address, this idiot had it plastered all over their socials. At this point, they were just asking for it! At the dead of night, he easily entered their house. Hovering over the sleeping form, his face showed a scarily cold expression.  

“I was lacking a test subject for my latest invention.” With precision, he plunged a syringe in the person's neck, “I wonder if they'll still think you're attractive after I’m done with you.” 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Esteban snatched the phone from your grasp. One minute you were alone in the living room, liking every post of a guy online and the next you were empty handed. Unbeknownst to you, he was actually stalking your account before all this and happened to see your liked posts. 

“What’s your deal?!” You jumped out of the couch, trying to take your property back. 

“What’s my deal? What about yours Mmm?!” He pouted, raising the phone out of your reach, “You have a guy with the literal body of a Greek god at your disposition and you're gawking at this?” 

He shook one picture in your face before retrieving it quickly. “Can you even tell that he is photoshopped? I don't need that cheap trick to look appealing.”

He couldn’t let you thirst over this loser and act like nothing was wrong. You shouldn’t need to feel the urge to simp over anyone else! All you need is him, him! That’s why he didn’t have a choice, Esteban had to have your device altered so you could never see that person's face again on any app. Without saying a word he headed towards the front door. 

“Hey! Give me my phone back!” 

“Don’t worry, I’m buying you a better one with some needed modifications.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Atlas stared at the picture that you were showing to him on your phone. He already knew your feelings towards this influencer. Having connected to your social media without your consent, he had seen that you were commenting on this person's post a bit too often for his liking. Still, he acted oblivious when you started ranting about them. 

“Aren’t they just so perfect!? Like they are so fine I caaaaan't!” You groaned and contracted your other hand as if you were a predator closing in on its prey. 

He really couldn’t understand what you liked about them that he didn’t have. He could at least console himself with the fact that this person unobtainable, that they would never be a part of your life, unlike him. But still, he hated knowing that you had eyes for someone else to this extent. 

Atlas leaned down, looking at you through his long and pale lashes. “I can be anything you want me to be, you know. I can change my hair color to match theirs or even my personality if that’s what you want.” Then, the android slowly lowered your phone down by gently taking hold of your wrist, “So no need to think about them any longer.” 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I love showing Vincent’s murderous and sadistic side, especially when it’s related to his darling. Also possessive Atlas is just a cutie pattotie.

[goodlucktai]

now the darkness comes alive

rise of the tmnt movie canon divergence word count: 10k characters: raph & leo

welcome to a very self-indulgent roleswap au that i started dreaming up in my friend’s turtle discord. big thank you to rem for the song rec that gave me the insp to finish (and name!) the fic, and also to lake, sara and meeks for enabling my insane behavior <3

oh, now the darkness comes alive it comes for me and i come for you

—brother, the rural alberta advantage

read on ao3

x

The Krang’s spike pierces through plastron and flesh with a sickening crunch and Leo makes an awful punched-out sound. Raph is seconds too slow, and seconds is all it takes for his entire world to end. 

For the past two years, they’ve been at constant odds, Leo going out of his way to undermine and annoy him. Every interaction was laced with frustration, hurt, worry, confusion. Why are you being like this? Raph wanted to ask, wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake until an answer came out. What did I do to you?

It was a miserable way to live. Being angry at someone you love more than anything, having nowhere to put it down, forced to hold onto it and hold onto it and hold onto it. Every day another argument, every night laying awake and hoping that tomorrow would be different. 

He missed Leo. He missed how they used to be. He didn’t know why Pops’ announcement had turned them against each other. He hadn’t thought anything would be able to do that. 

Once or twice Raph had a moment of weakness and imagined what it would be like if he just quit. If he went to Splinter and told him he was done. Let someone else be the oldest, the biggest, the one who carried everyone else. But that thought was always followed instantly by another, louder one—how small would he feel if he didn’t have little turtles climbing on his back and sitting on his shoulders? How empty would his arms be if he didn’t have anyone to carry in them? 

That’s the whole point. That’s why he’s so afraid. That’s why being left alone drives him straight past anxious and into a blackout. He can’t lose them. He can’t lose them. He can’t lose them. 

And now he’s living his worst nightmare. He’s living outside his own body, watching from somewhere else. It doesn’t feel real. 

His little brother, his little Leo, crumpled beneath him, blood staining bright blue an ugly rust color. His chest is heaving as if each breath hurts and his eyes are wide and wet. He’s gazing up at Raph like they’re children again. It’s the way he looked when he was afraid of a thunderstorm or he was about to get in trouble and he needed Raph to make it better. He always looked at Raph first. 

The monsters behind them are laughing. One of them starts talking, the sound coming closer at a leisurely pace. They aren’t safe. Leo is bleeding. Raph is afraid to touch him, shaking hands hovering over his cracked plastron. He doesn’t know what to do. His mind is white with panic. 

He has the escape pod in his hand, not yet activated. He doesn’t know if it’s safe to use it. Leo is skewered to the ground, pinned like a butterfly to corkboard. Donnie’s tech is highly intuitive, all of it programmed into S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s AI infrastructure, and maybe the pod would know to account for the particulars of the situation, but there almost definitely isn’t a way to remove Leo safely in the seconds they don’t really have to work with. 

Leo blinks, and the wetness in his eyes spills out, and Raph just wants to pick him up. Carry him somewhere safe. Leo has always been larger than life, but right now he looks impossibly small. 

“Hey, hey,” Raphael soothes, the same way he has a thousand times before, after bad dreams and skinned knees, “you’re okay. Raph’s here, you’re okay.”

Those gold eyes slide to the side, looking at a point behind Raph. Leo’s arm moves, and something cold and solid presses against Raph’s chest. It’s the key, and Leo’s hand is trembling so hard that Raph’s closes around it instinctively, taking the weight of it from him. 

Because he’s Leo, the corners of his mouth quirk into a smile. 

“I told you,” he says hoarsely. It somehow manages to sound wry, like they’re in on a joke together. “I got it.”

Then he uses the hand that Raph isn’t holding to activate the escape pod lingering between them and pushes it those scant few fatal inches forward. Raph doesn’t realize what the beep means until the pod unfolds in front of him and yanks him unceremoniously away from his brother.

“No,” Raph says, light-headed with fear, “no!” 

But a machine couldn’t possibly understand the wrong it was doing. What it was leaving behind. Raph pummels the inside of the pod hysterically but without his ninpo he can’t do enough to damage something Donnie built specifically to safeguard their family. It lifts him up and away and Leo’s crooked little smile gets smaller and smaller until it’s gone.  

——

When the pod touches down in the lair and releases him, the world around Raph is strangely muffled. There’s a ringing in his ears. He thinks he can hear voices but it’s all just noise. Nothing fully clears the chaos in his own head. 

Donatello is directly in front of him, and his hands are white-knuckled on the side of an empty blue pod. He looks like he already knows something went very wrong. His eyes are bright gold, a mirror of his twin’s, and the quiet fear in them places Raph directly back inside the warehouse, surrounded by monsters, too late to protect anyone, Leo’s blood on his hands, Leo looking up at him— 

Raph’s stomach lurches and he turns sharply away. His gaze lands on Casey Jones instead, who appraises him warily in turn, slim shoulders going stiff beneath the battered Genius Built armor. 

“Leo went back for the key,” Raph says, his voice a deep growling thing that cuts through the noise and brings down a curtain of stillness. He holds the stupid thing out, and if it were made of anything less than strange alien stone, his grip would have crushed it into pieces. Casey’s eyes drop to it and brighten, like it’s a good thing that it’s here even though Leo’s not. Relief floods every inch of his face until he looks even younger than he did already. 

“He got it,” the boy says reverently, taking it in both hands. “I knew he would.”

Raphael wants to scream. He wants to step back and let some other version of himself take the reins while he finds a hole to cry in. He doesn’t want to turn at his father’s firm call of his name or force himself to lift his chin until Splinter can meet his eyes and find all the miserable failure festering inside him, but he does. 

April is looking around and behind Raph, her eyes jumping to the red pod still standing open and then back again, as if finally noticing that Leo wasn’t tucked in there, too. As if it is only just occurring to her that there is a universe that exists where Raphael leaves Leonardo behind, and it’s this one, and it’s horrible. 

Donnie might as well be carved from stone, but Mikey is starting to get worked up, looking between everyone else with huge red eyes, trying to hear the thing they’re all not saying.

“He went back for the key,” Raphael says again, choking the words out. “I couldn’t—I wasn’t fast enough to—”

He clenches his fists and it drags his siblings’ attention to the blood on them. April covers her mouth and Mikey takes in a breath so sharp it must cut and Donnie starts to flap his hands. Splinter closes his eyes, looking as though he’s aged about a hundred years in the last few minutes. 

“What? That’s not possible,” Casey interjects as if he can’t help it. The young soldier glances around the room, like Leo is going to pop up from behind the turnstiles and rib them all for being so gullible. “Master Leonardo is the greatest ninja the world has ever seen, he wouldn’t just—”

“He’s not master anything!” Raph only barely manages not to roar. “He’s a sixteen-year-old kid!”

Casey flinches away from his anger and Raphael brutally wrestles it into submission. It’s not doing any good here. Casey is a kid, too. 

“Raph,” Mikey blurts, too loud and too fast, “is Leo dead?”

The word sucks the air out of the room and Donnie makes a noise like he’s been kicked in the stomach and Raph says, “No. No, Angie, he’s alive.” 

Even though their ninpo is locked away, and with it that subconscious knowledge of each other always lingering comfortably in the back of their minds like a warm afterthought, Raph knows they would know if Leo was gone. They would be able to tell. The world would be fundamentally changed, nothing would ever be the same again. 

He puts his hands on Mikey’s shoulders and adds, “We’re gonna bring him home.” 

The plan isn’t much of one, but their resident schemer is very much not present, and no one questions Raph when he lays it out. Donnie robotically admits that he has the means to track Leo, so the turtles and Future Boy are going to head that way and retrieve him, while Splinter and April babysit the key. 

“Use the shell hogs and just keep moving for now,” Raph says. “They have something we want, we have something they want.”

April nods, grimly understanding. If the only Hail Mary shot they have of getting their brother back is handing over the key and finding an opening to steal it back later, that’s just what they’ll have to do. 

Pops abandoned the Hamato Clan’s teachings in the first place because he didn’t agree with their preachings of self-sacrifice and martyrdom. He handed over the final piece of the dark armor without flinching when his sons’ lives hung in the balance. Even if the rest of their ancestors wouldn’t understand, Raphael does. 

He remembers the jar of oozesquitos he held onto once, trying—and failing—to call Draxum’s bluff. He may be a slow learner, but he only needs to be taught the lesson once. 

Leo risked his life to return this key to his family, so Raph is going to fight for it like an insane person for as long as it makes sense to. But if it comes down to abandoning one to save the other…

He’s his father’s son. He knows which choice he’ll make. 

——

In the Turtle Tank, Mikey and Donnie distract themselves on the trip to Metro Tower station by peppering Casey with questions about the future. The human answers readily, describing Master Donatello’s technological genius—holding out his arms so the entirety of his battered, cyberpunk-style kit is on display—and going on at length about Master Michelangelo’s mystic prowess. 

“I could fly?” Mikey squeaks, drumming his hands on the dash rapidly. “Was it cool?” 

“The coolest,” Casey is quick to agree. “And you opened a portal that sent me through time.”

But the warmth in Casey’s eyes doesn’t last very long, fading into something that looks uncomfortably like grief instead. He tends to look at all of them like that, like he’s in a room full of ghosts. 

He darts a sidelong glance in Raph’s direction and quickly faces forward again, staring out the windshield from Leo’s seat. He’s avoided speaking to him as much as possible, and Raphael can, unfortunately, put two and two together. 

Casey is familiar with everyone else—even April and Splinter—but he dances around Raph as if he’s a stranger. He didn’t know Raph in the future, he knew of him—someone to be respectful of and fall in line for, but certainly not one of the uncles he could brag about to their younger selves. 

When the Tank has gone as far through the tunnels as possible, drawn to a stop at a massive tangle of alien vines, they get out and continue on foot. Raph can feel his little brothers walking as close to him as they can without outright admitting that they’re unnerved, all of their guards completely up, senses dialed to eleven. 

The underground is home to them, always has been, and generally speaking if you’ve seen one subway tunnel you’ve seen them all. But the floodlights from Donnie’s battleshell illuminate a scene that looks like it belongs on another planet. Impossible masses of pink-purple mess dangle everywhere like Halloween store decorations, and the subway cars have been upended off the rails and twisted out of shape. 

Casey’s mask is down, the lenses glowing green as he prowls forward without missing a beat. If he came here from a future where the Krang won, Raph can only imagine what the New York City he grew up in looked like. 

“I hate to be painfully obvious, but since my other half isn’t present, I suppose it falls on my shoulders,” Donatello says after a moment, the sardonic tone of voice at odds with his very low register. “Something feels off.” 

He’s barely got the words out when hundreds of little lights blink at them from the jungle of purple vines—not lights, glowing eyes. The silent tunnel explodes into chaos a second later as they’re ambushed by parasite-controlled people and creatures and even objects. 

Raph and Casey are neatly separated from Donnie and Mikey within a manner of minutes. Raph’s heart is in his throat as he pummels through wave after wave of the infected, and it doesn’t settle until he hears on the comms that his little brothers have taken shelter in the Tank. 

He and Casey are pushed farther and farther away, chased down one of the tunnels by an animated subway car on what looks like spidery crab legs, towards a dead end. When Raphael feels the ground start to give beneath them, he acts on seventeen years of big brother instinct and very little else, seizing Casey around the middle and curling around him completely as they fall. 

It’s a dizzying, topsy-turvy couple of minutes, falling from the subway tracks into a maintenance tunnel underneath, and it takes awhile for his ears to stop ringing. He glances down at the human in his arms and notes with relief that Casey seems to be okay–tucked up small and compact against Raph’s plastron, all limbs accounted for, in such a practiced way that Raph thinks he’s been protected in exactly this manner more than once before. 

Neither of them speak right away, coming down from the rush of adrenaline and waiting for the shifting of crumbled concrete to stop and the dust to clear. Raph’s shell was made of sturdy stuff even before he became a chaotic alchemists’s bioengineering experiment, so when he’s certain they’re relatively safe, he pushes off the ground with his hands and lets the debris roll harmlessly off his back and shoulders. 

“Are you hurt?” Raph asks, sitting back to give Casey room to collect himself. 

“Um, no,” Casey says, tugging his cape down from where it had caught around one of his pauldrons. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, but more like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself now that it’s just the two of them, looking up at Raph and then away again. 

Raph can’t help it. He says, “I died, didn’t I? In the future.”

Casey jerks, as if he was surprised to be asked so plainly. Then his shoulders hunch, and he nods. 

“You all did,” he says haltingly. “Uncle Tello when I was thirteen, and sensei and Uncle Angie just… just before I got sent back.” 

Cold dread slams into Raph’s stomach. He doesn’t want to believe he and his siblings could ever truly be divided, but the proof is sitting in front of him. It’s hard to hear that the end of the world managed to take Raph from his little siblings. Donnie from his twin. That Leo and Mikey were left all alone, with a kid to take care of, and a losing war to fight. 

Casey swallows hard, and curls his hands into fists, visibly forcing himself past the loss that probably sits in his stomach and throat like barbed wire. 

“But you—it happened when I was little. I wasn’t really old enough to remember you.” Each word mincing and careful, he goes on, “Growing up, sensei talked about you all the time. He used to say you were the best—best brother, best leader. And he was so afraid when Master Splinter put him in charge, because he had no idea how to be as good as you. He didn’t want things to change, he was happy being your right-hand man. Sensei made it sound like he was really childish about the whole thing. He said he must have been a real disappointment.”

Raphael absorbs the words like a blow. 

Leo, his little brother, his little star, outshining everyone and pulling the world into his orbit, earnestly giving them the light and warmth they needed to live and grow and flourish, a disappointment?

Raph has been angry with him more times than he can count. Hurt by him, even, because that’s what people tend to do when they don’t understand each other. Frustrated and antagonized and fed-up, sure. But disappointed?

He has a shining, crystalized memory of being a child, no more than eight years old, crying over a picture book because the monster in the book looked like him. It was big and hulking, with dangerous-looking spikes and an alligator tail. Raph hadn’t realized Leo had found him until tiny hands took the book away and a serious little face, not yet grown into its stripes, assessed the situation. 

Even back then, Leo was too clever for his own good. He tossed the book on the floor and said, “They got it wrong. That author must not have ever seen any real monsters if they can mess up that bad. Who let them write a book?”

Raph was hardly able to see through his tears, making a distressed rumble in his chest, but his arms opened automatically. Mikey was in a phase where he had decided he was too big to be carried and Donnie had a hot-and-cold relationship with touch that his siblings all knew to maneuver carefully, but Leo absorbed any and all affection like a hungry little plant soaking up sunlight. He climbed right into Raph’s hug and his arms looped around Raph’s neck and hung on fiercely. 

“My Raphie is a better hero than all those knights and princes and wizards anyway,” Leo had said with conviction so huge it was better suited to someone five times his size. “I have the real deal. I should be the one writing books!”

From then on, Leo vetted any and all shared reading material that made it down to the lair before allowing it to be distributed with a very grown-up gravitas. Some things went straight to Donnie or Mikey’s rooms, or back into the garbage if Leo was feeling vicious about it that day, and no one ever said a word about it. 

About three months ago, April had brought them a bundle of the subscriptions they got mailed to her apartment, and Leo picked up a comic that came for Raph and started to flip through it like they were seven and eight years old again. He caught himself too late and looked embarrassed, sliding it across the counter and quickly making his escape, but Raph felt warm all the way down to his bones. That was proof his Leo was still in there, that he still cared, despite doing his best, for some reason, to convince everyone he didn’t. 

His Leo, who always cared. Who cared too much. 

Casey gives Raph another one of those searching, sideways glances, there and gone again. 

“Sensei said he let you down once and he never wanted to do that again. He said he would live the rest of his life making up for it, making you proud. Is—is this what he was talking about?”

Raph looks at the boy in front of him, Leo’s kid from a future that doesn’t exist yet, wearing tech his Uncle Tello must have meticulously built to outlast everything else, Uncle Angie’s smiley faces etched into the knee guards in a pop of silliness that somehow still existed in the apocalypse, his sensei’s red stripes painted proudly front and center on his mask. He carries his family with him with every step he takes.

It’s no wonder Casey is so cagey around him. If he was raised even in part by Leo, then he was probably raised on stories of Raph that only painted the good and the funny parts of the bad, because that’s how Leo loves. And it left Casey to reconcile how everyone’s hero Raphael could have ever thought poorly of Casey’s hero Leonardo. 

“Sounds like that sensei of yours had no clue what he was talking about half the time,” Raph say gruffly. “Raph may wanna pick up him and rattle him like a snowglobe about a hundred times a day but that’s just the Leo Effect. Ask anybody.” 

Casey blinks up at him, one corner of his mouth giving into a reluctant smile. “Commander O’Neil said that before,” he admits. 

“Now her you can listen to any time of day or night, because she’s never wrong,” Raph says, pushing himself upright and offering Casey a hand up, too. “Leo could never do anything to make me love him less. It kind of seems impossible after a lifetime together, but I actually only keep finding reasons to love him more.”

Sliding his much smaller hand into Raph’s huge one, Casey lets himself be tugged to his feet. He’s gazing up at Raph with wide eyes, tugging on the wrist of one glove absently. 

“Leo is as silly as they come,” Raph says. “He needs practical people like you and me in his life to set him straight.”

All at once, Casey’s face brightens, glowing from the inside out. His spine straightens, shoulders going back. It’s every inch Leo’s expression when he receives honest praise from his family in any direction. And Raph realizes abruptly that at least part of the reason Casey has been so nervous around him is because he doesn’t want to disappoint his father’s hero, either. 

——

They find a maintenance shaft and climb the rest of the way out of the tunnels, regrouping with the whole clan in the Metro Tower station. Donnie brings Leo’s location up on a screen and they all huddle around him—falling silent after a moment as they take in what the tracker is telling them. 

“He’s right—right on top of us,” Donnie says haltingly. “He should be—”

April seizes his arm and he cuts himself off mid-word. With a sense of dread, Raph follows her wide eyes across the room. 

Leo is standing there, watching them. He’s been standing there the whole time. Unmoving, completely silent, and covered in the same squishy, fleshy pink parasitic slime that every other infected they’ve encountered up until now has been manipulated by. There’s a mass of it concealing the lower half of his face like one of the respirators Mikey wears for his spray paint projects, baring dozens of large serrated teeth in a sneer. 

Leo’s eyes are pink, the pupils slitted. If Raph couldn’t see him breathing, he wouldn’t know for sure if he was even alive. 

“Leo?” Mikey calls out in a warbling voice, hands trembling. “Can you hear us?” 

It doesn’t get a reaction. 

Raph takes one slow, careful step towards him.

That gets a reaction. 

Leo explodes into motion so quickly it doesn’t make sense, going from zero to a hundred in seconds. He slams into Raphael with the force of a freight train, sparks flying from where his blades meet the sai Raph only barely manages to throw up in time. 

Their siblings scatter, Donnie yanking Mikey firmly behind him, April putting out an arm to keep Casey back, too. Splinter dives in to help his oldest son, the two of them fighting to subdue but not to injure, hyper-aware of the cracks in Leo’s plastron and the matching wound on his shoulder. The last thing Leo’s father and big brother want to do is hurt him any more. 

Leo doesn’t give them an inch of the same consideration, as cold and methodical as a knife. His swords are fully in action, a very present danger to the rest of them, singing and sweeping with fatal precision. 

They’re only fighting for minutes, even though it feels like hours, when Raphael feels it. An insistent tugging on the front of his mind. He and Leo are locked together, swords caught for a moment in the guards of Raph’s sai, and Raph spares a daring second to look into his possessed brother’s pink eyes. 

They glow white instantly, a successful connection. Leo’s mind pours into Raph’s like a flood. 

Take them take them TAKE THEM TAKE THEM TAKE THEM 

As if moving on autopilot, Raph’s hands fly to Leo’s wrists and wrench—not hard enough to sprain, but hard enough that the slider’s grip flies open and the katana clatter to the ground. Leo rips himself free and darts back to give himself room for the next attack. He makes no move to recover the swords and Raph scoops them up a second later, heart pounding. 

It was so quick, so clean, that no one watching from the outside would be able to guess what had just happened. Leo surrendered his weapons to his family in the only way he possibly could, begging with his whole body to be disarmed before he hurt anyone, so desperate for Raph to hear him that he triggered a mind meld for the first time in two years.  

The room comes alive, infected creatures spilling inside and surrounding them all, punching up through the floor from the tunnels they had just escaped from. A subway car covered in pink slime rears back and roars like a beast. Leo moves through the crowd of Hamato like water. The only one he touches is April, a brush of their shoulders together.

She makes a distressed noise in the back of her throat, hand flying to her bag where the key is. Where it was.  

Leo has it in his hand, facing them with unseeing eyes. The grotesque, fleshy mask covering his mouth twists into a stranger’s ugly smile. 

Raph thinks, No wait. It’s not supposed to happen like this. 

They’re not supposed to lose. 

April uses her bat to knock the rest of the deforestation chemicals toward the Krang, causing an explosion that stalls the hoard of infected just long enough to create an escape route. Donnie scoops Mikey’s shell into his arms and Splinter has to tuck a hand around both Casey and Raphael’s elbows and yank to get them moving. Casey doesn’t make it easy.

He must know a losing fight when he sees one. He must be familiar with this scene from the world he came here from. But he struggles anyway, eyes locked without blinking on the shape of a Leo they’re leaving behind. 

Raph wants to struggle, too. He wants to stay behind and fight until he can’t lift his arms or stay on his feet. He wants his lost little brother to know someone’s fighting for him, that someone will keep fighting for him for as long as it takes. 

But responsibility perches heavy on his shoulders. More than one person is depending on him. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done to let himself be pulled one step away, then another. It hurts more than every single other thing he’s survived. 

“Raph’s coming back for you,” he calls out, voice thick, swords weighing a hundred pounds each in his hands. “Hear me, Leo? Raph’s coming back.”

Leo doesn’t give any impression that he heard. He turns at some silent command and walks away, taking the key with him. The Krang got what they came for. 

——

Kneeling on a rooftop, watching the Technodrome come through a hole in the sky and rain destruction down on their city, Raph finds himself thinking I wish Leo was here. 

It’s a stupid thought to have, because Leo being there would solve a very large part of the whole problem. But specifically, Raph finds himself wishing he had his clever, charming brother at his side, who always knew what to say. Who always had an idea. Who understood exactly how to reach out to people and lift their spirits, rekindle their hope. Leo isn’t the strongest of his brothers, or the fastest without his ninpo, or the smartest next to Donatello, but that doesn’t mean he can’t outshine the rest of them in his own way. 

He’s always been the one they followed, really. It just so happened he was always going the same way Raph was. 

“He was happy being your right-hand man,” Casey said. 

How could Raph have misunderstood him so completely? How could he have just left him behind, twice now? What if it becomes a pattern? What if Leo thinks this is all he can expect from them? 

Raph’s family is arguing behind him, unwilling to accept their failure but unable to see any path ahead to victory. It certainly looks hopeless. New York City is burning, people are screaming, parasites and infected are filling the streets by the dozens. 

A familiar hand lands on his arm. Raph feels like he’s wading chest-deep through mud, but he manages to turn his head and look down into Mikey’s big red eyes. 

“What did Leo say earlier?” Mikey asks in a small voice. “I sort of felt it when you connected but I couldn’t hear either of you.”

“It was like being aware of people talking in another room,” Donnie adds, leaning into Raph from the opposite side. “You can just make out the cadence of their conversation but no words come through clearly.”

Raph looks down at his hands, the katana he’s still holding. He rubs his thumb over the guard on one, remembering Leo’s glowing pride the first time he manifested them. He felt so buoyed by Leo’s smile in that moment that he could have fought the Shredder a hundred times over and won. 

I miss you, he thinks. I miss having you on my team. 

“He wanted me to take these,” Raph says. “He was really scared of what he might do with them.”

Donnie’s golden eyes are very sharp, staring without blinking at the only proof of his twin with them here on the outskirts of the apocalypse. Behind the turtles, Splinter and April are still going back and forth with each other, but Casey’s voice has tapered into silence. 

“What else did he tell you?” Donnie asks abruptly. 

“Nothing,” Raph replies, numb.

“C’mon, Raphie,” Mikey says, mustering a sweet smile for him, even though smiling is probably the last thing in the world he feels like doing. “Our Leo? Keeping it brief? I’ll bet he had a hundred things he was trying to say.”

“Let us in,” Donnie says, pressing his head a little harder into Raph’s arm. Dogged and determined, fully ready to dig in with his teeth and not let up until he gets his way. “Let us see.”

Raphael is exhausted, and hurting, and missing the absent piece of their whole so keenly that he could lay down right here and cry for days. But the one thing he’s never been able to do is deny his little brothers anything they care enough about to ask for this earnestly. 

“Okay,” he says and sets Leo’s swords in front of him carefully. With his hands open, Donnie and Mikey each seize one in both of their own, and Raph tries to center himself. 

The first time Raph and Leo did this, it was well before they had fully realized their ninpo. He doesn’t need the mystic powers they’ve come to rely so much on to recognize the brilliant purple lightning and laughing orange bonfire on the fringes of his mind and let them both in. 

The lightning and the bonfire both skirt familiarly over the steadfast red mountain that makes up their eldest brother, at home together. They all feel the painful absence of a mischievous blue wind so strongly that it takes their collective breath away. 

The mountain guides them to the things the wind had given him. Above everything else, fear—of what’s happened and what hasn’t happened yet, fear of the parasite wriggling inside him, fear of his own two hands, fear of failing his family even more than he already has—

Stop, the bonfire says, burning warm and bright. Focus. 

The lightning strikes forward, knowing the wind better than the rest of them from a lifetime of sharing the same sky. It follows the wind’s twists and turns unerringly, illuminating the way in thunderclaps until it’s possible to break past the dark storm of fear entirely.

Behind it there are a hundred other things. Stubbornness and bitterness, a familiar grit that comes from being on the losing side and refusing to give up anyway. Anxiety that his efforts won’t be enough. Love, as deep and rich and unknowable as an ocean. Regret. Loneliness. Hope. 

Take them, the wind had said in the fleeting seconds it had to say anything at all, shoving as many secrets forward as it could. Take this and this and this and this. 

Leon, you devious little creature, the lightning says, with scorching pride and mean-spirited glee. 

It goes both ways, the bonfire cackles. The Krang can see into Lee’s head, but Lee can see into the Krang’s head, too!

This is it, the mountain realizes. This is how we win.  

——

Galvanized, the Hamatos split up one more time. Casey, April and Splinter to get the key back and keep the Krang occupied, and Raph, Mikey and Donnie to save Leo. 

Once Raph and his brothers are inside the Technodrome, they all understand exactly where to go. Everything the Krang knows about how to operate his ship, Leo knows, through that unwanted window between their minds. And everything Leo knows, he shunted as hard and fast as he could into Raph’s brain, hidden in a tangle of emotion so thick that it went entirely undetected by the parasite riding along. And since Raph shared the knowledge with the other two, Donatello could probably pilot this weird spacecraft blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back.   

Mikey is swinging one of his ‘chucks restlessly, ready for whatever fight comes his way first. He’s already a force to be reckoned with on a good day. He’s a walking natural disaster on a bad one, up there with hurricanes and tornadoes. 

And this is definitely a bad one. It’s the worst day they’ve ever had. 

“Dee’s got the ship and I’ve got Dee,” Mikey says firmly, sounding much older than he did this time yesterday. “You get Leo.”

Raphael moves with ninja stealth and speed, picking his way through the halls. It smells awful, like raw meat left out in the sun, and in the gloom it almost seems as though the walls and floors are squirming. 

From what Leo gave him, Raph knows better than to hope he and his siblings can go undetected for very long. The ship is almost a living organism itself, and can probably feel each step of progress Raph is making toward the bridge. 

It doesn’t slow him down. Every second Leo spends here is a second too long already. 

The maze-like halls open up into a cavernous dome, where a catwalk stretches toward a huge bulbous window. Outside, Raph can see a panoramic view of Manhattan engulfed in fire. It looks like a warzone. The air leaves his lungs in a rush. 

It’s Raph’s city, the place that raised him, and for the first time in his life it’s hard to look at. 

His hindbrain pings to awareness a split-second before he hears the movement of metal against metal, and Raph spins around to look up at General Krang. 

He’s seated in a throne on a dias, a smug, toothy smile on his face. Leo is standing like a statue at his feet, this tiny slip of green and pink and muddied blue. His discolored eyes gaze listlessly forward into nothing. 

Little Leo, who always wanted to be carried. Little Leo, who hunted down each and every opportunity to make his brothers laugh. Little Leo, who wanted so badly to be even just half as important to them as they were to him. Little Leo, who Raph wouldn’t know how to begin to live without. 

“You again,” the Krang says. “Nothing smart to say? This one wouldn’t shut up until I improved him. And here I thought it was just an unfortunate hallmark of your species.”

Raphael sees red at the way the wicked metallic fingertips of the Krang’s armor cage Leo’s head and jostle it carelessly, like he’s nothing but a cheap toy. Raph bares his teeth, a furious rumble in his chest, but doesn’t dare to say a single hateful word while Leo’s life is literally held in the Krang’s hand. 

“You probably would have made a much more impressive puppet, with all that brute strength,” the Krang goes on. “Oh well. All in due time.”

The alien must give a nonverbal order, because he retracts his hand and Leo springs forward. 

He doesn’t have his swords anymore, since they’re strapped to Raph’s shell for the time being, but the pink slime has trailed down his arms and tapered into two sharp points that he wields like knives instead. 

They meet in a ringing clash, Raph catching the pink knives with his sai. 

“I know you’re in there,” Raph says. “I know you don’t want to hurt me. It’s okay, Leo. I’m gonna make it okay.” 

The way Leo fights is vicious. He’s fast and he knows where to hit. There’s no joy in his body, no cocky gleam in his eye. Raph can’t help bu remember the way his mind felt when they connected so briefly earlier—the surround-sound of wailing panic and self-hatred, confined behind a stranger’s cold expression. 

Bearing down on his little brother, forcing him to his knees, Raph chokes out, “I’m not leavin’ you behind this time. I’m not goin’ anywhere without you ever again.”

“Empty promises seem to run in your family,” the Krang sneers. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about,” Raph says through gritted teeth. “Don’t listen to him. Just listen to me.”

“Don’t I? Let’s ask the others, shall we?”

Black vines shoot up from the organic mass that makes up the floor of the bridge. Donnie and Mikey are suspended inside them, fighting like animals—Mikey in particular is using language that there is no way Splinter knows he knows. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice vermin slinking around in my ship?” the General asks. “Is this really the best the three of you can do?”

Leo is scratching and clawing at Raph’s hands, trying to break free of him at any cost. Raph is much bigger and much stronger than he is, and it hurts to hold him down like this, but he knows it would be so much worse to let him go. 

“This whole time, we just weren’t listening to each other,” Raph says, lowering his voice. Everyone else can probably still hear, but he wants Leo to know Raph is talking to him. “Somehow, I convinced myself you didn’t care, when I know better. You care so much it makes the inside of your head a nightmare to live in. The only thing you think about is being good enough for us.”

Leo finally manages to twist free, Raph releasing his arms at the last second when it becomes clear the parasite doesn’t care if its host’s elbow or shoulder gets dislocated. Leo rolls away and comes up on one knee, hand braced beneath him, the other white-knuckled around a knife. 

He can hear the Krang becoming agitated, because Mikey and Donnie refuse to be still. The vines holding them snap and give one after another, faster than they can be replaced. There’s something stirring inside of Raph, too, a fire in his chest that wants to roar to life. 

Leo strikes again. Despite everything, even with all the horrors they’re surrounded by, Raphael wants to smile. 

When they started training together, Leo was the first of the four of them to perfect a technique. Raph lifted him up onto his shoulders in victory and let him crow about it for the better part of an hour, flushed with joy and pride. Since then, Leo has never once landed that particular move wrong. 

An outsider wouldn’t clock that he placed his hand nearly four inches too far to the left, but Raphael knows those four inches made a fatal difference between a bad puncture wound and a severed artery. 

Leo has no true autonomy left but there’s a sliver of him awake behind the wheel. He’s still fighting tooth and nail in there. 

There isn’t any force in the entire goddamn universe prepared for how tricky and stubborn Raph’s little brothers can be. 

“I’m listening now, Leo,” Raph says, alight with how much he loves him. “I’m here. You’re not alone. You’ll never, ever be alone.”

Leo strains forward, dropping the knife and grabbing at Raph’s arm instead. Between one blink and the next, his eyes go from pink to shining gold. 

Raph seizes him, holding his face in the cradle of both hands, his heart soaring around in his chest like a bird. 

“Yes! That’s it! Come on back, big man, Raphie’s got you!”

With a slam, Leo goes to his knees, scrabbling desperately at the fleshy mass on his face. His fingers dig into the slime, but he can’t get a solid enough grasp to tear himself free. His chest is heaving, whole body shaking. He’s fighting so hard but it’s not quite enough. 

And Raph’s ninpo reacts to a sibling in distress the way it did when Raph used it for the first time, breaking past the Krang’s seal like it’s nothing. It surges forward in the shape of a river, finding the familiar place inside of Leo where his connection to their ancestors lives, and making a temporary home there. Raph’s armor limns his brother in rosy red, swelling from underneath his skin in a powerful flood and pushing the parasite out. It loses every inch it had to cling to while Leo continues to pull. 

Finally the worm is ripped completely away, shrieking as it goes, and Leo gasps. He drops the squirming creature and scuttles away from it, gulping in unobstructed air. The corner of his mouth is torn deep and bleeding sluggishly, and his face looks pale and hollow. 

But his eyes are the color they’re supposed to be, and they’re looking right at Raph and seeing him, a connection as meaningful and important as any mind meld.

Because he’s Leo, the first thing he says is, in a croaky, exhausted voice, “Do you have a sword I can borrow?”

Raph barks out a laugh, tears in his eyes. Earlier today he had reached a point where he thought he’d never smile again.

In this moment, he feels like he could hold up the whole sky and grin while he’s doing it. 

Purple and orange spark madly all around them, a lightning storm and a forest fire ready to rain merry hell upon any unfortunate soul in their path, just enough to keep the General busy while Leo finds his footing. 

Raph wants to scoop them all into his arms and carry them someplace safe from all of this, but he knows he can’t. That place doesn’t exist yet. They have to fight for it. 

Leo breathes in deep and lets it go, takes the swords that Raph passes him in hands that don’t shake, and reaches out for his brothers’ light with a light of his own. 

A gale rushes down from the mountain, leading the charge.

“Hey, ugly,” Leo calls out hoarsely, pointing a blade at the Krang. “I’ve been dying to tell you this all day. The decor in here fucking sucks.”

“Oh my god,” Raph says, half despair, half delight. 

Landing beside him, twirling a glowing bo, Donnie stands shoulder to shoulder with his twin and says, “I would cite you ‘time and place’, Nardo, but honestly you have a point.”

“No because it’s so distracting,” Mikey pipes up, dropping weightlessly into a crouch on Raph’s carapace, narrowed eyes glinting in the dim light like a smug cat’s. “Presentation matters! Zero out of ten, would not be held hostage here again.”

“At least it matches the Six Flags Fright Fest he's got going on upstairs.” Leo indicates his own temple with the hilt of one sword. “There’s something to be said for consistency, am I right?”

It’s as much of a hint as it needs to be. The Krang isn’t stupid, which is a big part of the reason why he’s been such a difficult opponent. He understands within the space of a few seconds what Leonardo is saying—what it means for him to have any idea what the Krang’s headspace looks like. This whole time, there has been a subtle, calculative undermining at play right under his nose. 

He clenches those claws into fists that have enough power to bring down skyscrapers. 

“You really don’t know,” the Krang intones ominously, “when to shut your mouth.”

“Says you and everybody else I know,” Leo replies, unflinching and fearless. “Get some new material.”

Raphael gets it now. Maybe he always has. He understands what Splinter was thinking when he looked at Leo, still growing up but ready at sixteen for the beginning of something greater, and decided he should be the one to lead. 

His brothers would follow him anywhere. Raph would walk straight into hell without looking back if that’s where Leo decided to go. 

——

It’s an instant relief to have those singing silver blades back on their side. Leo’s portals open and close with dizzying speed, moving his brothers like chess pieces around a board, somehow keeping track of it all. For a moment, it’s easy to think they might win. 

And then the Krang blows them all away with the flick of his finger. 

Raph thought his world had ended when he was too late to save his brother in the warehouse. Then he realized the world was actually ending in slow stages all around him when he had to leave his brother behind again at the mercy of a monster. 

It turns out the end of the world happens here. On the quiet, abandoned expanse of Staten Island, listening to his little brother’s wrecked voice over the comms say, “Casey, get ready to close the door.”

“I’m ready, sensei!” Casey reports, prompt and reliable. “Tell me when you’re home free!”

There is a split-second of hesitation from Leo—the barest pause, practically nothing—that sends Raph’s heart straight into his throat. Donatello jerks all the way upright from where he was nursing what’s almost definitely a broken wrist, and Mikey goes dangerously still. They heard it, too. 

“Yeah,” Leo says, just barely too late to be believable to the siblings who know him inside and out, “I’ll tell you.”

“Belay that order, Casey,” April cuts in sharply, every inch the Commander she was in another world. “Leonardo, think twice before you lie to me. What’s your play?”

There’s another pause, and Raph can imagine in crystal-clear detail the way Leo’s throat works when he thinks he’s in trouble with their sister, the way he’s probably clenching and unclenching his hands while he wars with that stupid self-inflicted mission to never make himself vulnerable to anyone for anything. 

The little brother need to be liked wins out. Leo admits, “I can’t think of how else to make him stay there.”

The ground falls out from beneath Raph’s feet. 

“No!” Mikey shrieks, fully at his limit of shit he’s willing to deal with. “No no no no!”

“Sensei I can’t just—I won’t just trap you in the Prison Dimension!” Casey says, horrified at what he was almost tricked into. “There has to be another way!”

“We’ve tried everything,” Leo rasps. “I don’t know what else to do. I can’t let him—let him get you. Any of you. I have to stop him while there’s still a chance.”

“It’ll be a real shame if you save the world from the Krang this way, only for me to destroy it myself when I rip the universe apart to drag your sorry self back here,” Donnie bites out. “And I will, Nardo. I swear to every imaginary higher power you can think of, I will.”

“Leonardo,” Splinter says sternly from April’s end, the leaping panic in his tone well-hidden from everyone but his two eldest, “you will not sacrifice yourself for us today even if it means the world ends tomorrow. That is not what our family does. We are taking you home one way or another, Baby Blue.”

If being in trouble with April is bad, being in trouble with Splinter is cataclysmic. Leo is a daddy’s boy through and through. 

He hesitates again, seconds they don’t have to spare inching by, then says, “How?”

Before anyone can answer there’s a ring of metal and a heavy slam, and his line goes silent. Leo is fighting for his life a thousand feet above their heads, but at least he’s fighting. At least he’s willing to wait for help.

He sounded afraid, Raph can’t help but think. He doesn’t want to go, but he will if he has to. 

“I’ll get him down,” Mikey says, planting his feet, ready to move mountains. “I become a badass mystic warrior at some point, right? Might as well be now.”

“Wait, Uncle—Michelangelo,” Casey blurts, self-correcting a beat too late, “you can’t, when you did it last time, you didn’t survive.”

“If future me can open a portal through time and space and send my entire nephew through safe and sound, all by myself,” Mikey says, “then this me can do at least half of that with my brothers here to help.”

“The math is sound,” Donnie says, eyes trained unblinkingly upwards. “We haven’t met a single universal constant that we haven’t been able to turn upside down and inside out just for fun.”

“I’ve got ‘em, Casey,” Raph adds, his heart going out to the kid who stands to lose his whole family all over again if the wind blows the wrong way. “I’m the biggest, big enough to carry everybody if I have to. Nothing bad’s gonna happen while Raph is here.”

“Oh,” the boy says, very soft. “I remember you saying that.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it now!” Leo shouts suddenly, his comm coming back on with a burst of static and a strange ambient whine that must be what the inside of the portal sounds like. “Now, please, now!”

Mikey lights up, a tiny self-made sun of burning, shining gold. He grits his teeth and lifts his hands, trembling under the pressure of the cosmic forces he’s wrestling into submission. Donnie wraps both arms around him and braces his little brother with his entire body, absorbing as much as he can. The feedback is halved instantly, and when Raph steps in and holds them both, it’s reduced even more. 

With a little huff, Mikey works his shoulders, like this is nothing more complicated than the tricky recipe he once found for an eight layer Doberge cake on one of those unreadable walls-of-text baking blogs. If he can figure out that, he can do anything. 

Lightning and fire and rock-solid, steady earth stretch out their hands, reaching past the open gateway and through empty space, searching for the windy blue thing that doesn’t belong in this darkness. 

The wind reaches back eagerly, desperate to be grabbed up and taken home and held forever. 

Inside the Prison Dimension, bright chains flare into existence—some to tangle around the Krang and immobilize him, still more to wrap around Leo’s chest and haul him back through the door while it’s still open, at a reckless, break-neck speed. 

It would have been dangerous for a squishy human, but Leo lands on the surface of the Technodrome in a roll and manages to find his feet. 

“I don’t have a sword,” he blurts, panicked. “I don’t know how to get down.”

Mikey clenches his fists. Ready to open up the portal that killed him in another world, after all, if that’s what it takes to get his big brother down here where he belongs. 

Then Donnie says, “You don’t need to have a sword, dumb-dumb. I have one.” 

It materializes in his hand, a purple construct of one of the matching lightsabers he made for his and Leo’s eleventh birthday. They were very quickly confiscated but Leo laughed like a maniac for the three minutes they had them, and Donnie kept the schematics for a rainy day. 

“Will that work?” Mikey asks, too breathless to sound as terrified as he probably is. 

“It’ll work,” Donnie says shortly. “A sword is a sword. Now’s not the right time to be a snob, Leon. Come here.”

Leo makes a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan and feels for the shared space between them where their ninpo lives, where the mountain and the bonfire and the lightning and the wind all live. Raphael can feel it when that mischievous blue energy finds a brand new rule to bend and decides sure, that sounds fun.  

Runes etch themselves into the handle of the Genius Built lightsaber. 

Raphael shouts, “Casey, now!”

At the same time the looming portal above their heads sends a shockwave over New York City, popping and sparking along the edges like a downed transformer as it shrinks and shrinks until it closes around the Technodrome, a flash of bright cyan heralds the abrupt head-on collision of Leo into Donnie when he swaps places with the sword construct his twin was holding. 

They go down in a haphazard pile of limbs, groaning where they lay on the concrete, and then groaning again when a hundred pounds of little brother gleefully joins the pile with an enthusiastic flop. 

The explosion above them is an afterthought. April and Splinter and Casey are all talking over each other on the comms, frantic for confirmation that they all came out of this alive. That they haven’t lost anything they won’t survive losing. 

“We’re all here!” Mikey says, crowing it to the wide-open, smoke-filled sky. “We won!”

Raph should probably elaborate on that for his dad, sister and nephew’s sake—let them know that everyone’s really okay, describe the little miracles Mikey and Donnie just pulled out of thin air like it was nothing, tell them about Leo trembling like a leaf in the wind but tucked securely into his twin’s side and absorbing the warmth of another living person like it was something he’d always taken for granted before— 

But there’s something else he needs to do first. 

“Noooooooo,” three little turtles protest as their biggest brother rounds out the turtle pile, flattening them to the ground. 

“Tough luck, bozos,” Raph rumbles. “I ain’t lettin’ a single one of you out of my sight ever again.”

Mikey giggles, half-hysterical, a contagious, familiar sound. Donnie shuts his eyes to hear it better. Leo hides his cold face in Raph’s neck and doesn’t say anything else at all. Raph holds them all tight, and imagines a universe where he’s strong enough to never lose them.

Maybe it’s this one. 

——

Casey, who is both medically trained by Leonardo’s future self and entirely immune to the slider’s particular brand of treatment-avoidant bullshit, turns out to be a godsend. Leo uses every trick in the book and still winds up in a bed in the infirmary. 

For someone who craves attention as much as he does, it would make more sense for him to milk a hospital stay for all he’s worth. But it’s always been exactly the opposite, Leo escaping at the first possible opportunity and hiding out somewhere until negotiations are made. 

After all these years, Raph finally has him figured out. 

Leo’s face is still puffy and red where it’s healing, but it’s inevitably going to scar—through the right side of his mouth and down his chin, where the parasite clung the hardest. And for the three days that they’ve been home, Leo ducks his head when anyone looks at him, talking to his hands or his knees instead of to their faces. 

Don’t look at me, Leonardo is screaming with his whole body. Raph doesn’t need a mind meld to hear that, loud and clear. 

Too bad, he thinks, not unkindly. His heart aches as he sits on the side of Leo’s bed and watches his brother tuck his chin immediately. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he says, lifting Leo’s face again in one large hand, gentle and implacable. Leo resists briefly, but gives it up for a bad job when Raph rumbles at him.  

“Don’t,” Leo manages. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Raph challenges. “I missed you.”

Leo’s eyes are downcast and wet, his mouth screwed stubbornly to one side in a manner that probably hurts, given the stitches. Raphael is a professional at outlasting moody little turtles, and he’ll sit here until the next apocalypse if that’s what it takes. 

Eventually, Raph’s patience pays off. Slowly, gingerly, Leo opens his hands. He lets Raph take them and squeeze strength and warmth into them, and clings back for as long as it takes to cobble together the remarkable courage he needs to look his big brother in the eye. 

“I lost the key,” Leo starts damningly.

“You got it back,” Raph says, ignoring the nauseous lurch in his stomach at the memory of the warehouse, Leo pinned to the floor, the escape pod activating and leaving him there alone. His nightmares always start right there these days. “We’re the ones who couldn’t keep hold of it.”

“I almost hurt you,” Leo says, a note of desperation entering his tone. “I almost—”

“You didn’t,” Raph counters firmly. “You have no idea how much more incredible it is that you didn’t.”

“I was so mean.” Tears drip down his face as he finally loses the battle not to cry. “When the Krang was in my head he saw everything and he said—said you must hate me, and he did all of you a favor getting rid of me, and I thought—I thought that makes sense, because I was so mean, and I’m nothing but trouble, and I don’t contribute, and even when dad gave me the chance to step up and be something I still wanted—I just wanted—”

Little Leo, who invented games of make-believe so Raph could feel like a hero. Little Leo, forever finding ways to make recalcitrant Donnie play, pleased as punch every time he pulled it off. Little Leo, who could listen to Mikey ramble for hours without getting bored or short-tempered, his bedroom walls an ever-evolving art collage of his little brother’s best work. Little Leo, who just wanted to be held and held and held. 

Raph lifts Leo into his arms, as easy now as it was when he was three and nine and twelve, and holds him. Leo shakes with how hard he’s crying, even though he’s not really making any noise. His hands scramble to grab onto Raph’s shell and he lets Raph squeeze him into something young and small and hurt and loved. 

As a general concept, Raph disagrees with murder—but he thinks he could make an exception for the monster who forced his way into Leo’s brain and turned it into an echo chamber of all the worst things he had ever thought about himself. 

An eternity alone in the dark with nothing but his failures is as close to justice as they’ll get. It’s kind of poetic, right? is all Mikey will have to say about it when it comes up a week from now, a mean-spirited little smile on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Leo chokes out. “I’m sorry, Raphie. I’ll do—I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be better, I swear. I’ll never let you down again.”

“He said he would live the rest of his life making up for it, making you proud,” Casey said.

“Blue, this thing you think you gotta make up for—this price you think you gotta pay for existing—it doesn’t exist,” Raph tells him in a tone that brooks no room for argument, barely managing not to grind his teeth together. If anyone else had said anything even half as bad as Leo had said about Leo, he would’ve punched them straight through a wall by now. “You mean more to me than what you contribute to the team. Even if you brought nothing to the table, which is not true, you’d still be stuck with us forever. Non-negotiable. You could be a hateful little brat every single day of your life and I would still take a bullet for you, no questions asked. Are you hearing me?”

“Hearing you,” Leo mutters, knowing better to disagree with that tone.

“All I want from you is you. All I need is my Leo. Whether he’s feeling goofy or annoying or pissed off or scared—I want every shape of him. Every version. Don’t you dare,” Raph adds, punctuating this by a little rattle of the Leo he’s holding, “make me go a single day without him ever again.”

Leo is fully hidden beneath his chin, so there’s no way for Raph to tell what his face is doing. But he hears the little punched-out breath, and feels it a second later when Leo’s white-knuckled grip on his shell loosens, just a bit. No longer convinced he’ll be ripped away for some imaginary offense.

It’ll take more than one conversation to fix everything, but they’ve got more than one. They’ve got a million. They have the whole rest of their lives on each other’s team. 

“I missed you, too,” Leo whispers, like they’re four and five years old again, huddled under the blankets after bedtime and telling each other secrets. 

Back then, monsters were easy to conquer. Nothing scary or sad dared to follow little brothers to Raphie’s room. A warm nest and a turtle pile was the answer to every heartache. 

Some things stay exactly the same, Raph thinks fondly, amused by the way Leo’s already drifting off. He settles in for a nap on his plastron, Leo tucked securely under one arm. He gives it about thirty seconds before Mikey and Donnie stop listening outside the door and sneak inside to complete the pile, and starts the count in his head. 

He makes it to twenty-seven before the mattress gives tellingly beneath two pairs of hands, and he smiles. 

[amalthea-13]

just curious what would you say is the most frustrating take on stolas you've ever come across?

meaning an argument an anti made that bothered you the most?

The Self Victimization Argument That I Loathe

Firstly, thank you for the ask! I always appreciate it since it gives me sort of a "prompt" to work off of! So truly thanks!! Also I noticed in my recent notifications you recently started following and omg I am so thankful.

You all make me so happy and make this so fun with how intellectual and smart you all are!!! Your responses and questions make this my favorite part of my day!

But enough gushing about my lovely followers! Back to buisness!

To anyone new to my page or essays, Hello! I am Amalthea the Ultimate Stolas Kin and Stan and write waaayyyyy to much about Stolas for my own good. He's like everything to me! My page focuses on Stolas defense, and one of the main arguements I hate are the ones that even imply he "self victimizes" for the sake of getting out of his "bad behavior".

What is Self Victimization?

Having to explain this concept at all was very frustrating since I first encountered this argument back on my Tiktok page. It was what inspired the Stolas, Miscontextualing his Words, and Boundaries essay where I discuss at lengths how the Helluva Boss fandom misrepresent Stolas's statements from Apology Tour. For a baseline I will be putting a definition below; UNLEASHING POTENTIAL - PSYCHOLOGY VIDEOS their video Psychology of SELF Victimization helped informed this definition;

Self Victimization is the act of manipulating ones situation to take victimhood from the affected group and make themself out to be the "actual victim". They usually blame others for their circumstances taking no responsibility on their part and often target people of lower self-esteem or those of a kind heart. They are usually incredibly codependent and utilize victimhood to get their way. They also like to be perceived as "good people" despite being terrible.

If anyone wants to add to this definition and has studied psychology on this specific field, please feel happy to DM me a better definition or any information to make this more accurate.

However, usually what people mean is that Stolas is using is abusive circumstances to get what he wants out of Blitz and is targeting him to get what he wants. Whatever, that's a bag of fully packaged horse shit and I can prove it with ease.

Does Stolas Feel Remorse for His Actions?

I consider Full Moon to be Stolas's apology. Anyone else who disagrees with me can kiss my Puerto Rican ass, because that was a heartfelt apology and genuine taking accountability if I've ever seen one. I do not think you have to say the words "I'm sorry" to genuinely apologize to someone you have wronged. If you disagree, again, kiss my ass.

(Not you asker, I am speaking to antis, you're blameless for their stupidity. UwU)

Moving on, Stolas goes into great detail about how he was wrong and how he messed up in their relationship.

Stolas: Blitzo, I'm giving you this because I care.... very deeply for you. And I have for some time. [He places the crystal onto Blitzo's glove, embedding itself into his hand.] But this transactional thing we have, it's not right anymore. It hasn't been. It never was. And now all I can see is how wrong it is to be so tethered to someone in such an unfair way... and not know how they feel. But I want you to continue to be who you are, your business. You don't have to stay here with me. [He removes his hat.] But... I want you to. I want you to stay here with me because you want to. Only if you want to.

Stolas here takes accountability for his actions and part in this entire arrangement. Hell, Blitz holds at least half the blame, but Blitz isn't put into a position to take any accountability or responsibility. Stolas takes the sole blame and doesn't put Blitz in a position to feel guilty or be blamed.

Stolas takes blame purely because he feels at fault and like he put Blitz into a position that was unfavorable.

This is not "self victimizing" behaviors at ALL. In Sinsmas Stolas proceeds to continue to take responsibility for his choices.

Stolas: *calmly* It's okay. Saving you was the right thing to do. And you have risked your life for mine in return. *takes puff from cigarette* You don't need to feel any guilt for my situation, it was my choice. *sadly* It was all my choice. I caused all of this.

Stolas does not ever exhibit self victimizing behavior, but he sure as hell exemplifies the behaviors of an abuse victim. Yet people like to miscontextualize these moments as "self victimizing" instead of the very real context for who he is and how he acts.

He never boasts about being a "good person" then cries wolf for when he needs to be held accountable. However, Stolas has never been seen to display this behavior in the show.

Does Stolas Target Blitz because of his Low Self-Esteem?

I'm probably gonna get dunked on for this part, but Blitz targeted Stolas, not the other way around. While I ain't sitting here tryna go after Blitz every 5 seconds, I may as well go into this for a moment.

Since I sure as hell got time to do it, but Blitz literally during The Circus realizes how sexually inept Stolas is and utilizes that to his advantage to get the book.

I ain't saying Stolas is an angel, but if anyone is "self victimizing" at all, it is Blitz. He acts like Stolas made the terms of their relationship when he realistically could have ran away. I mean he ran from Verosika and everyone else in his damn life so he couldn't just fuck off for once?? No, because that didn't benefit him at all.

Stolas's vulnerability with Blitz is abused against him quite often by Blitz since he knows Stolas cares about him.

For example the Ozzie Ep, why would Blitz call Stolas for a "date" if he truly believed he was just a "royal fuck"??? That's the question many people don't ask and I don't get why we act as if Blitz is a fucking idiot. He literally knows Stolas will bend to his will.

Stolas stopped asking for sex and still gave him the fucking grimoire on multiple occasions.

If anyone was "targeting" anyone, it was Blitz targeting Stolas.

Is Stolas Codependent?

Not one bit. Despite being a victim of abuse, Stolas is incredibly independent and doesn't depend on Blitz to solve all his problems.

Often Blitz isn't vulnerable enough for Stolas to really "depend on", especially since during Western Energy, Stolas felt like he couldn't really depend on Blitz afterwards and onwards pulls away from Blitz slowly but surely.

Stolas takes care of himself and his problems and therefore is not codependent.

Conclusion

I do apologize to you, Asker, I was kinda going off about this, but genuinely anyone claiming Stolas is "self victimizing" are usually the most annoying ass people in this fandom. As much as I adore talking about Stolas and easily debunking people's arguments, this one is not only constant in the fandom, but it reeks of victim blaming rhetoric and mishandling of real psychological terminology.

It also takes no more than a few seconds to piece together why this argument makes no sense and therefore stupid as all hell.

Of all the arguments in the fandom, yeah this one is the worse.

Thank you for the ask! <3

[puck-luck]

frat fever | cole caufield

warnings: use of Y/N, situationship, deffo gaslighting from the frat boy (realism), fingering, hickeys, PROTECTED p in v (first time ever on this account fr), mentions of STDs and cheating (but is it technically cheating?) pairing: frat boy!cole caufield x fem!reader summary: frat cole frat cole frat cole!! dear cole caufield, please give me a chance, i wish i had met you at the pike house like y/n did wc: 3189

You had kept yourself together pretty well, all things considered. You were used to Cole leaving you on delivered, only replying to keep up your snap streak. During the weekend, things were different– Cole would reach out first, always late at night and always searching for one thing. You weren’t delusional. You know the terms of your relationship.

You tell Cole about your day, and Cole only cares about you on the weekend, when he strikes out at the Pike tailgate ahead of the football game and doesn’t manage to find a girl at the bar after the game is over. 

It’s the perfect situationship. You’re annoyed, but not mad enough to break things off. Cole makes up for his typical frat behavior by folding your laundry when he comes over and falling asleep wrapped around you, but never complaining when you wake him up and kick him out. It works. 

So you can’t really explain why you’re marching over to the Pike house now, phone in your hand, frown on your face. On your phone lies the proof that your relationship isn’t as exclusive as Cole pledged it was last weekend– a picture of him dancing up on a girl, light-up cowboy hat on his head. In fact, he had told you that he couldn’t go out last weekend because he had some family thing, and you had believed him. 

Now, it was clear that he lied: both about going home for the weekend, and about only wanting to fuck you.

You rap on the door of the frat house and it swings open. One of the boys from Cole’s pledge class opens the door, surprise written all over his face. 

“Y/N?” Jack asks. “What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Cole?” You demand, pushing past him. You’re now in the foyer of the house, surprisingly clean and quiet for a Monday morning.

“He’s in his room, geez,” Jack replies, sounding annoyed. “You don’t have to come in here all mad.”

You don’t reply, just turning on your heel and marching down the hall. You’ve been to Cole’s room plenty of times. You’ve pestered him for bathroom privileges at parties, always ending up sneaking away with him to have a quickie when he relents. 

You walk through Cole’s bedroom door without knocking, seething a little bit.

“Y/N,” Cole greets, jumping in surprise. “What the fuck?”

“You said you weren’t fucking anyone else,” You accuse, tossing your phone at his chest. “What the fuck is that, then, huh?”

Cole scrambles, holding your phone up so he can take in the picture. He pales a little bit, but catches himself and brushes it off. “We were just dancing.”

“Just dancing,” you repeat, laughing sarcastically. “So why did you tell me you were going out of town this past weekend? To see family? I’d hate if you were dancing on family like that, you lying shit.”

“Whoa,” Cole laughs. “Dude, you’re freaking out. My plans changed. I didn’t realize I had to clear them with you, Mother.”

You nearly growl. Your hands itch to reach out and slap him, furious and frustrated. He always has the most biting, annoying response to your statements, making them sound irrational and crazy. You hate feeling irrational and crazy. 

Of course Cole is a grown man, he doesn’t have to clear his plans with you. You feel silly for barging in and implying that that’s what you want at all. He’s also a frat boy– a dedicated brother, considering how often he talks about the frat and wears his letters when you see him, so you shouldn’t have believed him when he said you were the only girl he wanted to fuck. Your arrangement is one out of convenience, not feelings. You’re teetering dangerously close on feelings territory, and this is just about sex.

“I told you I didn’t want you fucking other girls,” you say, doubling down. “I don’t want to get an STD from you.”

“I told you I’m not fucking other girls,” Cole replies, rolling his eyes. “You’re overreacting, baby. Come sit with me. We’ll watch a movie while you calm down.”

He pats the bed next to him, then puts his arm up over the pillows. He’s shirtless, just lounging about in his room, and your eyes are drawn to the smooth skin of his side. You know he’s been working out– he goes to the gym every day, usually sends you a snap in the mirror of the locker room. It’s really showing. You watch his muscles ripple when he sweeps his arm out.

It’s distracting you from just how annoying and bitchy he’s being. You don’t want to sit down with him, or watch a movie with him, and you certainly don’t want him to tell you to calm down.

“Baby,” Cole repeats, a pout on his face. “Don’t make me beg.”

You glare at him, but your resolve crumbles anyway. “Fine,” you mutter, climbing onto the bed next to Cole. You settle in, frown on your face and arms crossed against your chest. 

Cole’s arm falls over your shoulder and he tugs you into his side. “Where’s my sweet girl, huh?” He asks, patting your arm and shaking you a bit. “Why’re you being so mean?”

Why am I being mean? You want to scream. You’re the one sleeping with other people!

But at the same time, the other part of you is blushing and wiggling happily in her seat. ‘My’ sweet girl, he said.

You don’t reply, trying to keep the unimpressed look in your eyes as you stare at Cole. He cradles your face, then moves his hands so he’s boxing you in. He starts to rise up on his knees, hovering above you, and you shrink down to escape his closeness. You don’t go far, because Cole plants a knee between your thighs and effectively stops you from moving any further.

“I see how it is,” Cole says. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not!” You exclaim, planting a hand on Cole’s chest. Warm. Bare. Oh God.

Cole grins and he leans down to kiss your shoulder, then up your neck. You let out a breath at the sensation, your body relaxing beneath him. Your hands find his hair and you want to stroke your fingers through the strands, but you pull him away by his locks instead.

Cole growls playfully, removing your hands from his hair and holding your wrists above your head with one hand. “You’re jealous,” he repeats.

“I’m not,” You retort.

Cole talks over you. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, but you know I’m all yours.”

You frown, ready to retort. Cole rolls his hips down onto yours and the complaint evaporates in your mouth. 

“Do I need to remind you?” Cole asks. He’s teasing you, mocking you. “Did you forget that my dick only gets hard for you, baby?”

“Cole,” you warn, the last shred of your dignity marking the word.

He frowns, making his eyes big and sad. He brings his hand down and pushes your knees apart so he can really crowd into your space. He grinds down against your clothed cunt and relishes in the little sound that you make.

“I’m not fucking other girls,” Cole promises, and the illogical part of you believes him. 

It seals the deal. You feel like you’ve suddenly locked the logical part of your brain behind bars, in a soundproof room. 

Cole leans down for a kiss and the image fades from your mind. He captures your lips, waiting for you to respond before he slips his tongue into your mouth. When he pulls away, you follow. 

“There she is,” he coos. “My sweet girl. Want me to fuck you, make you feel good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“You missed me this weekend, didn’t you?” Cole asks, releasing your wrists so he can use both hands to raise your shirt. He pulls it over your head, then grabs one of your breasts, thumbing over your nipple. He bites his lip at the sight and you keen. “That’s why you stormed in here, all mad. You missed me.”

Pathetically, you nod. It seems like the right answer at the time– anything to keep Cole’s hands on you. 

Cole’s face breaks into a smile and you soak it in like a reward. “Sweetheart, all you had to do was send me a message and I would’ve been in your bed. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

“Shut up,” you groan, a little embarrassed at the pet name. “Just fuck me.”

“You can ask nicer than that,” Cole chides, pulling away from you. He pushes his shorts down, leaving him just in some tight boxer-briefs that have your mouth watering. “I know you have manners, Y/N.”

“Please, Cole,” you reply. It’s half-hearted at best. 

Cole hums, unimpressed. He slips your shorts down your legs and pets over your panties, just skimming his fingers over the fabric. “So wet for me, but you’re not acting like it. Why do you make things hard for me, baby?”

He dips his fingers into your panties, slicking up his digits with your wetness. He traces your hole, but doesn’t push in. He completely ignores your clit.

You whine, rolling your hips against his hand. He stills his palm against you, making you do all the work.

“Say you need my cock,” Cole commands, looking at you like you need his guidance, like you can’t function without him. “That’s all you need to say, and then I’ll touch you.”

“Cole,” you say, blushing red. 

He pushes the tip of his middle finger inside of you, then retreats. He repeats the action, filling you more with each dip into your heat. “Say it, baby. Tell me you need my cock and it’ll be all yours.”

Your hips twitch against his hand, his ring finger now starting to join his middle. He’s stretching you wide, staring into your eyes as he does it and taking in each heave of your breath. He kisses your temple, then brings his mouth down to your chest. His tongue swirls against your nipple, then sucks the whole thing into his mouth. He moans against you, his fingers curling inside of you.

“Fuck, Cole,” you moan, a hand finding his shoulder. 

“Mm?” Cole hums, looking up at you, and the vibrations against your nipple are almost too much.

“I need your cock,” you plead, arching your back and rolling your hips into his hand. Cole prompts you again, the heel of his hand stroking your clit. “Please, Cole, I need your cock inside of me. I need you to fuck me.”

“Good girl,” Cole praises, drawing his fingers out of your cunt. He licks them clean, giving you a show. It makes you whimper, remembering all the times when his tongue danced up and down your slit and flicked over your clit until you came. “I’m going to give you what you need, don’t worry.”

He tucks his fingers into his waistband and inches the briefs down. You nearly drool when his length is revealed, a dribble of precum leaking from his slit. Cole fists his cock, laughing as your eyes follow his movements, pumping up and down.

“You need it bad,” Cole observes, smirking. “But there seems to still be something in my way.”

He pointedly lowers his eyes to your core and you rush to remove your panties, a wet line of slick attaching itself to your thigh while you hurry to rid yourself of the scrap of fabric. Once the panties are on the other side of the room, you spread your legs wide, waiting for him to fill the space and press into you.

“So eager,” Cole chides. “Spread your lips, babe. I want to see my hole.”

You choke on a gasp, his possessive tone like a squeeze to your heart. You bring a hand down between your legs and pull your folds apart, clenching as the chill in the air hits your bare entrance.

Cole’s eyes fill with fire at the sight of you, pliant and obedient beneath him. There's a reason he keeps coming back to you, after all. 

But you also don’t trust him, and Cole can’t have that. He needs to punish you just a bit more.

“You’re so mean to me, Y/N,” he says conversationally, still stroking himself. 

You frown and shake your head. “No, I'm not.”

“Uh-huh,” Cole teases. He lists off the reasons. “You accuse me of fucking other girls, you think I'm going to give you an STD…”

He inches toward the edge of his bed, reaching for his bedside drawer.

“I didn't mean that,” you say, trying to salvage the situation.

Cole draws a condom out of the drawer and tears the wrapping. He rolls the rubber onto his member and you pout.

“None of that, baby,” Cole reprimands. “You're worried that I'm fucking other girls and I might give you something. I guess we have to be safe until I can run to the Student Health Center and get tested, right?”

You grumble an agreement, frowning more when Cole lets out a chuckle and crowds into your space.

He nudges his way under your neck and sucks a bruise there, something that you’ll have to cover up for your class the following morning. You realize and push him away, but Cole just traps your hands again and brings them back above your head. He continues to suck and lick over your neck, purpling the area.

With his other hand, he lines himself up with your dripping entrance. He pushes forward, groaning as your heat envelops him.

“So tight,” he praises against your neck. He kisses, then shifts forward another inch. “I love your pussy.”

Your eyes roll back into your head as he snaps his hips forward, burying the rest of himself inside of you. 

Cole sets a frantic pace, grunting and moaning in your ear as he chases the pleasure surrounding his cock. 

“How could I fuck other girls when I’ve got this perfect pussy,” Cole muses, the question coming out as more of a rhetorical statement. He thrusts forward, hard, making your jaw drop. “Only pussy I need, right, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you agree, his cock bumping your g-spot with every thrust. Every other sound that falls from your lip is a moan or a whimper, but they’re bubbling up in your chest into something louder.

“And fuck, you love this cock,” Cole continues, biting his lip and concentrating on the bliss covering your features. “Nothing fills you quite like me? That’s why you were all jealous? You thought someone else was getting your dick?” His tone turns mocking, pitiful. “You just couldn’t stand the idea of someone else having me, is that it?”

“Yes,” you whine, repeating the word with each of his trusts. You agree over and over again, barely aware of what he’s saying. His pleasure is consuming you, tending to a fire in your stomach that’s almost out of control. You yelp when Cole’s thumb comes down on your clit, rubbing in harsh circles, but the yelp turns into a wanton keen. “Cole, fuck, I’m close.”

“Gonna scream my name when you come, baby?” Cole asks, then kisses your lips. He pulls back, the hand not rubbing your clit bundled in the pillow next to your head for leverage. “Let the whole house know who’s fucking you this good?”

“Cole,” you wail, clutching his wrist to ground yourself.

“A little louder, sweet girl,” Cole encourages, nudging your nose against his and panting into your mouth. “Tell ‘em who you belong to.”

Your chest lifts off the bed involuntarily and you cry out, a garbled version of Cole’s name mixed with the high-pitched moan signaling your release. It’s Cole’s favorite sound that you make, and most of the time, he rewards you by spilling inside of you.

He’s forced to spill his seed in the condom, groaning and stuttering above you as he does so. You feel oddly empty, even though you can feel him twitching inside of you as his come fills the condom. 

Cole’s thrusts slow and eventually stop, his hooded eyes meeting yours. His bottom lip drops from his teeth and it curves with a smile, dipping to catch yours. He draws out while kissing you. Eventually he rolls away and pinches the tip of the condom, removing it. He ties it off and launches it toward his trash can– and makes it.

He brightens, looking back at you to make sure you saw it. 

“Kobe,” you tease, and Cole laughs.

He wipes you down with one of the shirts on his bedroom floor, tossing the item towards the laundry hamper when he’s done. He doesn’t even shoot for the basket, just aims in the general direction. He kisses up your chest and sucks a bruise onto the curve of your breast, then pecks your lips.

“I’m not fucking other girls,” he repeats, patting your hip. “But I do have a chapter meeting in about an hour, so I’m going to have to kick you out.”

You pout and he matches the expression, leaning in to kiss it off your face. He stands and finds your shirt and shorts, bringing them back to the bed. He sits in front of you and holds them out. You push away from his comfortable pillows and hold your arms above your head.

Cole bites back a grin, his eyes flickering down to look at your tits before he helps you slip the t-shirt over your head. He smooths some non-existent wrinkles, cupping your boobs before he pulls away. You snatch the shorts from his hand and pull them on, climbing out of bed and finding your way to his mirror across the room. You fuss over your hair for a second, trying to tame the unruly mess, but you give up and tie it up with the ponytail holder on your wrist. 

“Are you going to text me later?” You ask Cole, eyebrow raised.

He crossed his arms behind his head, laying back on his pillows. Your eyes are drawn down to his cock, laying against his thigh and soft again. Ugh. You still want it to be inside of you.

“Maybe,” Cole replies easily, knowing that his vagueness is frustrating. He wiggles his own eyebrows at you, smirking at your glare. “You’ll have to wait and see, won't ya?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, Caufield.”

“Well, you’ll die happy.” Cole sends you a little wave, scrunching his nose in a way that’s far too cute and unfair considering you have to leave. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Cole.”

You escape the frat house without running into any of the other guys, mercifully. As you walk toward your place, you pull your phone out of your pocket to text your best friend. 

Well, Cole isn’t fucking other girls

How do you know?

……… he told me

Good fucking God Y/N I thought we decided you weren’t going to sleep with him anymore

Too late

note: this is me. living vicariously. through my own writing. i miss you cole. why are you a dom in all of my recent fics. that's hot. i think it's probably because i'm manifesting.

I NEED A FRAT BOY TO SLEEP IN MY BED AND MAKE ME MISERABLE ASAP!! I'VE BEEN TOO NORMAL!! SOMEONE NEEDS TO MAKE ME GO CRAZY and i nominate cole caufield

[ronearoundblindly]

I have another question for who would Wednesday (sorry if I'm sending too much): who would have new years resolutions? Who would help with yours?

Took me until Lunar New Year, but we got there!

No warnings except mentions of true-to-character background (family alcoholism, jerk behavior, cursing) so keep that in mind.

James Mace

Yes! If it's important to you, it's important to him. Mace only picks practical goals or changes to make, realistic stuff that's doable and improves his life and happiness. You know, the actual epitome of the tradition.

Curtis Everett

No. He'll honor your resolutions but doesn't make his own. It's half not caring and half because when he used to make them, he always crapped out on them by March...

Jimmy Dobyne

No. Jimmy believes if you have a goal, why wait for a holiday to start? Go ahead and do it! He hates the placating of over-indulging during the holidays, guilting yourself, and then miserably push to change huge things suddenly. (He's adamant about NO DRY JANUARY, too. Own up to it. If you want/need to quit drinking, then fucking stop. He gets prickly about this because of his father.)

Johnny Storm

Nope. Johnny just...keeps being Johnny. Isn't very open to helping you keep them. Seems...sorta personal and like a you-problem.

Jake Jensen

Yes!!!! He's totally supportive and enjoys making a big deal about declaring his and yours after a sweet, midnight kiss. Will buy a whiteboard for the hallway to have them visible. Jake does, however, always picks silly or easy stuff for himself in order to feel accomplished. He will NOT stand for you making resolutions which are designed to be judgmental: don't write down "get skinny" or "save for a nose job." Jake makes you think specifically about you, none of this for-others shit.

Lloyd Hansen

Yes? His resolutions are silly and self-serving--also they are almost always indulgences that Lloyd never stopped himself for doing in the first place--so it's a useless exercise. He is supportive of yours as long as it's convenient for him to do so, which he takes on a second-to-second basis.

Ari Levinson

Yes, but only as a couple or being supportive of yours. On his own, Ari doesn't see the point.

Ransom Drysdale

Yes, but he doesn't admit it or tell anyone what they are, so no one knows if he failed to keep them. Ran won't necessarily provide positive support of yours--i.e. if you cheat on a diet or something, he openly points out you shouldn't be eating that--but! he holds you accountable if/when you've clearly said you're trying to change a habit.

Andy Barber

Yes. The only problem is they're vague and recurring. Every year he tries to say you'll have a regular date night or go on trips, but Andy never quite manages to put fun things first. He's a workaholic who gets distracted and forgets to focus on less tangible progress. You have to remind him or take over making those resolutions happen.

Steve Rogers

Yes and no. Some years Steve has strong impulses to make changes. Some years he's just getting by or keeping the status quo. Turns out, you often make resolutions that impact the both of you or are specifically geared toward him. If you're vocal about wanting something, he's all over it and supportive. Steve has never been great at doing things for himself.

Bucky Barnes

Again, yes and no. Bucky is still not great at tracking time. He gets confused from year to year if there were just arbitrary goals he set, so now he keeps them progressive. You guys want to do renovations on your home? Pick a starting room and then pick a direction to work (out, up, or down). He wants to turn his wardrobe into something more personal? Begin with the shoes, then the socks, then the slacks, etc. Mundane choices can overwhelm him easily since he's from a simpler era and he didn't make his own choices for a long stretch. Bucky keeps his resolutions simple and the pressure to stick to them low.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Now back to my hidey hole...