#I was strange when I was younger with roleplaying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starfirette · 2 years ago

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School Reunion

He was a a lithe figure of all rhyme and very little reason...

...especially he gestured for you to come closer. Tousled tufts of soft, brown hair flopped over his forehead, not so strictly gelled back today. His hair was ultimately the first thing that warmed you up to him. His previous face was undoubtedly your first, true love--all blue eyes and ears, knit sweaters under leather jackets, and a secret soft side...

❇Tenth Doctor x Fem Reader

❇hmmmm this took a month to perfect! I shall page @bellaswansrealgf because this does indeed have a size kink portion :)) this is cross posted to my ao3 (username is the same if you want to check that out!)

You were the illustrious and young English teacher, and he was the older, more experienced Physics teacher.

But it had only been a game. It was the ruse for a job at some school.

Of course you had "just" graduated college; you needed a guided hand to show you how to handle those rowdy students. "Professor Smith," you said as you batted your eyelashes. The size difference between you two was enough to make you squirm, thighs clenched and heart beating in anticipation.

"Poor thing," 'Mr Smith' had said. His hand is ruffling up the chiffon of your knee length skirt. "You're so needy for attention. You'd take any bit of attention from even the science teacher."

You wouldn't yet go into further detail of what conspired that day. After all, it was a little bit inappropriate of you two to do such fooling around during the hours of an investigation. Rose would have been livid to know that while she was slinging chips and pizza to students and staff, you and the Doctor were rather preoccupied with teaching not the students but yourselves just how Miss [L/n] and Mr Smith ought to behave.

Of course, the roleplay was divine. Mr Smith was a role that the Doctor deeply enjoyed to act with, especially when it came to shamelessly flirting with you as if he didn't know you. You suspect he had all his fun that way.

Apart from the canoodling in the workplace, everything else was really a ruse. The way it all started is a little bit convulated, but Rose heard from Mickey who must have heard from someone else that strange things were going on back in her hometime. (Hometime was a bit of a private joke between you, Rose, and the Doctor, it's a play on the word hometown! You and the Doctor fight for the credit of who actually coined the term but Rose often sides with the argument that you truly did.) The Doctor went into full dramatic effect, as he tends to do, and he created you a full fledged identity and a college degree. In real life (for lack of a better term)you're almost done with college where you're honestly pursuing a degree for English Literature.

The Doctor surprised you with the position at this school. Albeit it's undercover, he wanted you to have some fun. His face lit up like the lights on a Christmas tree when he saw how excited you were. Granted, this was a far cry from being an English professor at a prestigious university, as you drunkenly confessed to his prior face while celebrating the win against the nanogenes during the second World War. Though he looked different then, he still loved you with the same, big heart.

Hearts.

Force of habit.

Day One of the mission was the easiest mostly because day one didn't require real work. Rose helped you research the winning numbers for some lottery tickets. She dropped off two winning tickets at the homes of a couple teachers from the school: one from the Mathematics department, one from the Literature.

Needless to say both resigned in an instant. Unfortunately this sparked nasty rumors which accounted the two teachers (who really didn't know one another at all) were having an affair. Well, so long as they enjoyed the money. And since neither of their spouse's seemed to believe these rumors, you supposed there was no real harm done.

Day two consisted of applying for the jobs and actually getting them. The interview process went well. You interviewed with the superintendent who claimed the headmaster was busy.

'This isn't fair,' Rose said. 'I want to be a teacher.'

'You'd look so cute as the lady administrator,' you pointed out from the sofa of the Tardis common room. 'You could wear fake specs. Y'know, look over them and give students dirty looks. Type obnoxiously on your clunky laptop. It's such a shame mini iPads weren't invented sooner. I'd look soooo cute carrying mine around.'

Rose groaned theatrically as she collapsed onto the sofa. She rolled on top of your lap, pushing the remote out of your hands so you could pay attention to her. 'Tell your boyfriend to make me a teacher,' Rose indignantly said. Her nose scrunched as you shifted your thigh to push her off.

'My hands are full,' The Doctor said through a mouthful of snack food. He tossed a sprinkle of crumbs at Rose, consequently catching some on your lap. You shoved his face with mock disregard. 'You mean your hands are tied,' you corrected.

'Sure,' he said, 'that too.'

The start of day three. You dressed in a knee length skirt with pointy flats and a smart looking blazer. You decided to forgo a pair of fake specs (though you were known to occasionally need a pair of real lenses ever since a strange trip with your blue-eyed, prominent-nosed Doctor to an interesting laser show which had some nasty effects on your eyes; it was some sort of festival on Mars in the year 3000). As you walked down the hall to your class room the Doctor walked past, heading the opposite way to the Mathematics department. He sent a prolonged look up and down your outfit.

"Hello, Mr Smith," you said curtly. You had to fight the grin that tussled with your lips. You enjoyed playing your role too, too much.

Mr Smith uncharacteristically fumbled over his feet as he looked over his shoulder to meticulously study the way your bum and hips moved as you went about your merry way. Needless to say this is when he decided to amp up his game.

The children in your classroom couldn't have been older than fourteen. You didn't expect anything outwardly startling at this point, because you didn't yet realize the secrets this school held.

You took a look at the lesson plan the students had been going through before their previous teacher took a miracle vacation to Sicily to renew their marriage vows.

Good for them.

"Who would like to examine the motifs of this scene?" you asked. You were picking through a bit of Macbeth. A beginning scene with the three witches; it should be easy enough. How typcal to have stumbled upon their Shakespeare unit. An obligatory staple of middle school. Or highschool. Whatever grade these kids are in. You tried thinking of it in terms of Harry Potter; are they fifth years? Harry Potter was certainly fifteen during Order of the Phoenix.

You contemplated this as no one actually tried discussing Macbeth.

"Would anyone like to mention anything?" Your attempts to get them talking was dismal. Perhaps they missed their old teacher. You felt a little guilty. Even more guilt poured in you when you obnoxiously thought that their old teacher wasn't missing them, not while they were having a second honeymoon in Sicily!

"Anything?"

You could have heard an eyelash drop in that room.

"Going on about motif, it's rather interesting that when Macbeth enters, he notes...? What does he say that directly links him to the witches? Oh, goodness, I've lost my place...'So foul and fair a day I have not seen.' Does anyone remember what the three witches say in the opening scene?"

Finally a hand is raised.

You want to thank the kid profusely as you call on her. "What's your name?"

"Addie Jones," the girl said.

"Wonderful! Nice to meet you, Miss Addie. Do you remember the line?"

"'Fair is foul and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air.'"

"Excellent," you tell her with a smile. "Not only does this line set the overarching theme for the story, it also is a neat trick Shakespeare put in. Macbeth enters a few scenes later and by repeating their words, he's effectively sealed his own fate. This is a pretty good example of a motif. Does anyone know what a motif is?" You scanned the room, hoping for another arm to pop up, but Addie's hand waved shyly in your sight. You understood, then, why teachers threatened to call on students at random. You'd threaten that yourself if you knew anyone else's name. Besides, Addie seemed eager enough to share her answer. "Addie!"

"A motif is a series of repeated patterns, often dialogue or imagery, in literature used to further a narrative."

Whoa.

"Great answer," you told Addie, a sincere smile capturing your lips. "Given that definition, can anyone find other motifs in the play?"

Addie raised her hand.

"Does anyone other than Addie have an idea?" you tried. To no avail, you nodded at Addie. You took a seat behind your desk, grabbing a pen to jot down a forethought about Harry Potter.

Addie took a loud and deep breath. "Another integral motif in the play is sleep. Banquo states, act two scene one, 'And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers restrain in me cursed thoughts that nature gives way to response.' Act two, scene two, Macbeth by now has killed the king. 'There's one did sleep laugh in's sleep, and one cried Murder!' 14 lines later, same scene, Macbeth then says, 'Methought I heard a voice cry 'sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep. The innocent sleep, sleep which knits-,'"

You were extremely puzzled. You tried to gently interupt Addie's train of thought, which seemed to be more than just reading directly from her book than actually answering your question. Taking a stand, your flats smacking the linoleum floor, you strolled back to the front of the classroom, your lesson plan in hand. You caught a glance at Addie's desk. Wherein you'd been expecting to see her fingers eagerly scanning along the pages of her open book, you found that her textbook was rather shut, her hands clasped atop it as she waited for you to say something.

Blinking in surprise, you looked back at the lesson plan. You skimmed through a couple pages. Just when did they begin studying this play? That thought was muting all of your prior Harry Potter saga theories. Only at the start of the week...and they were only assigned an at home reading for the first four scenes.

Perhaps Addie liked to read. Perhaps she enjoyed Macbeth so very much that she chose to memorize the entire damn play.

You hadn't seen any notes marking Addie's remarkable abilities in the subject, so you wondered on about how she could have done such a quick study of the play. "He certainly prattles on about sleep, doesn't he?" you asked Addie, who grinned toothily and nervously. "What do you think it means?" you continued as you hugged the lesson plan to your chest.

That smile faded. "Oh. I'm not sure." Addie, who had memorized all the lines and their scenes regarding 'sleep', was at a loss for words.

You felt a little bit guilty to find that she seemed incredibly embarrassed to be without an answer. You didn't necessarily care, but you wanted to probe for more answers. "Want to venture a guess? Why do you think sleep is so important here? What might it symbolize?"

Addie went red in the face. She played with the edges of her textbook. Her nails pulled apart the layers of the hard cover, flaking specks of cardboard across her desk.

"We could ask ourselves what a literary symbol is," you continued, quickly trying to move on before Addie could explode. "What's a symbol in literature? Maybe someone aside from Addie?"

You sighed. Defeated again. Tomorrow you'd have to try harder. "Alright, Addie, take it away."

After taking a breath of relief, Addie prattled away, "A symbol in literature is one of the literary devices that an author might use to convey a hidden message or theme. Symbols often are represented through objects or ideas that serve with a literal purpose but have metaphorical meaning which furthers the narrative, much like a motif."

Puzzled by her in depth definition all you could really do was nod in response. 'That's correct," you informed her. Though it was far too correct. It didn't sound at all like the answer of a thirteen year old girl. It sounded like a line from a thesis paper or even from some dictionary. Her knowledge us certainly expansive but robotic in nature. She can identify patterns, like motifs and sleep and what not, but she can't analyze their meaning.

You frowned. More accurately, she couldn't form her own thoughts on the subject matter.

During lunch break, you searched the cafeteria for the Doctor. You went through the line, declining food after food. You made a scene of asking Rose for an apple, and then you leaned in close as she handed it to you. "I found something a little bit strange. Sweet girl in my class basically memorized her English textbook. She might as well have memorized mine. Have you seen him?"

Rose's brow twitched with contempt. "No," she said sharply. "Fuck 'im, really, I'm stuck back here slinging chips at bratty kids and he's off doing who knows w-oh, there he is." She pointed him out in the crowd of students, the man sitting at a table and picking apart a turkey and cheese sandwich layer by layer. "He's bein' weird again," Rose snickered. The Doctor smelled one slice of bread. "Oh, God, go stop him. I can't watch him deface himself like this. Wait, take your apple, now. If I was working on commission then you'd be of no use to me. That's right, take some milk, too. Not the skim, you daft. That's basically water. Take the two percent."

You tried to juggle the milk and apple that Rose had tossed in your arms as you sped walked towards the Doctor. You dropped the apple on the table as you took a seat in front of him. His nimble fingers dropped the bread in a split second and he eyed you close. "I've got something," you said.

"Ah, ah," the Doctor said sharply with a wag of his finger. "I don't even know you and you're going to sit down, without even asking, and try and engage in conversation? Tsk. You naughty thing."

You rolled your eyes. "It's nice to meet you," you told him, playing into his game. "I'm Y/n L/n, yada yada. Anyways. Girl in my class-"

He shook his head. "Nope. You didn't ask my name."

"I know your name," you mocked his tone. "We met at the staff meeting."

"How do I know you actually remember it?" the Doctor challenged you. "Go on, just ask my name!" He looked much too amused as you angrily peeled open the cap to your milk.

"What's your name," you therefore said monotonously, trying to void the words of any inquiring tone.

"John Smith, physics professor. I'm single, by the way."

"Anyway! Girl in my class! Basically memorized the entire textbook. She had an answer for most of the questions. However, those answers were all...materialistic. I don't know how to describe it. She didn't know how to input her own thoughts. It was like she just downloaded all the information to her brain. Does that make sense?"

The Doctor nodded. "I've had a similar experience. Kid in my own class has knowledge way beyond planet earth." He pushed his plate of food forward. "Try some."

"No, thanks," you said politely. "I'm not very hungry. Something about this food weirds me out," you drawled as you poked his lightly tousled food around. He was more sampling everything rather than eating. "I've always hated school food. The chips look...odd. The smell of them is somehow off. Does that make any sense?"

"Come with me," the Doctor responded, not saying anything to your earlier rebuttals regarding the school food. "Toss that, I'm not going to eat it," he added. He took the tray and dumped it. You followed behind him as he slid his tray with the other dirty ones. Rose sent him a glare so foul you were surprised he didn't collapse on the spot. A glare like that could make him regenerate. "Found anything strange?"you ask Rose before she and the Doctor can get into a cat fight, an occurrence which frequents the TARDIS.

Rose gossiped, "Half the kitchen staff got replaced not too long ago. And this lot are weird. Get this! The entire lunch menu has been designed by the headmaster himself. What qualifies him to even do that? Don't you have to study...nutrition?" Rose shook her blonde fringe from her milk chocolate eyes. A flare of mischief came in her eyes. "I bet he didn't."

"Is nutrition a course of study? Actually, it is, isn't it? Oh, Rose you should be a nutritionist!" You said gleefully.

The Doctor sighed. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to keep up with his two companions.

"Oh, shush," Rose chided to you. "The point is we've been at this for three days! We don't even know what's going on. More like you two don't even know what's going on. I've done my part! I reported back to you an' all!" She looked at you both with arms folded across her chest and her eyebrows raised indignantly. She licked her lower lip in a dare for you or the Doctor to argue back, her chocolate-brown eyes strangely malicious. "That's right, isn't it? You've got nothin' to say but-"

"Stop yelling at us!" The Doctor finally dished back. He seemed irritated beyond his senses, which was typical of him. "Your boyfriend is the one who called us."

Rose's mouth quivered at the term. Her lips opened and closed as though she was a fish out of water. "Mickey's not my--hang on a minute, where are you two going?" she finally demanded as the Doctor started to manhandle you. You looked vaguely surprised, staring at him with incredulity.

"Research!" the Doctor called without looking as he kept his deft fingers tightly wound on your wrist. "We've get a lead!"

You struggled to let her know as he escorted you away.

The halls were empty as the Doctor pulled you contently down the Mathematics hall. His classroom was certainly empty, all students eating their lunch for the next thirty or so minutes.

"Show me what you've got," you told him excitedly as he turned the lock on the door. You looked around eagerly for whatever gadget or gizmo he was going to produce. You waited for another moment before you watched with curiosity as the Doctor settled himself easily on the edge of his desk. "Where is it?" you asked.

"What do you mean?" The Doctor countered, crossing his arms with some semblance of an attitude. You mimicked the pressing of a sonic screwdriver. "Where's the...gizmo...aren't you going to sonic something?"

"Oh. No gizmo," the Doctor said. "Not this time. Well, not right now, actually, I'm sure I'll sonic some sort of gizmo sometime soon. No, I actually wanted this time for ourselves. I'm not fond of your attitude, Miss L/n."

You raised a brow. "My attitude?"

The Doctor nodded. "Exactly. Your behavior has been nothing short of abysmal. Neglecting me, running about with Rose, and entirely disregarding your duties here. I supplied you with a title of superiority and you have sorely misused it. There's only one word to describe you these past two days."

For a brief moment your heart stuttered with genuine fear, but then you watched the sparks which flickered in his hazel brown eyes burst into a large flame.

"Naughty."

You barked a laugh. You put a hand over your fast beating heart. "That's not funny," you chastised. "I thought you were being serious!"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

No going back now. Not with the rapid pooling of warmth in the bottom of your belly. The Doctor shook his head, tutting his tongue as he folded his arms.

He was a a lithe figure of all rhyme and very little reason; especially he gestured for you to come closer. Tousled tufts of soft, brown hair flopped over his forehead, not so strictly gelled back today. His hair was ultimately the first thing that warmed you up to him.

His previous face was undoubtedly your first, true love--all blue eyes and ears, knit sweaters under leather jackets, and a secret soft side with a not so quiet splash of kinky foreplay. There were zero hints of that face in this one, and the first time you saw it you didn't know what quite to think.

The Doctor had burst into a bright, ball of golden light. Spheres, marble sized, of such light fizzled around him, orbiting his figure while Rose gripped your hand. Her fingers slipped on the fresh blood, making you wince as she slid over the fresh slice. The fight against the Daleks had been the most important matter in all the world just moments ago. And now you felt as though...you were about to lose everything.

Your mouth burned with the hard kiss the Doctor had given you. His tongue had meddled against yours, sweeping the roof of your mouth the way he knew you liked. His thumbs swiped away the tears that dotted the corners of your eyes, and just like that, he was saying goodbye. And then this.

Dizzying rushes of blinking in and out of reality coursed through you. This almost felt like a dream. The image charading in front of you didn't seem right. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, afterall. You three were supposed to find Jack and go home, wherever 'home' was. No matter where home was, the day would always end with you laying on the Doctor's chest, ear to dual hearts while he played with your hair.

And yet that wasn't how this was going to end.

Rose gripped your hand tight. Your vision flickered with stars as her fingers slipped into the gash on your hand. Nausea punched you in the gut as the light grew brighter and brighter. Stop, you wanted to tell him. It's not funny.

It wasn't funny at all.

The energy surged, so loud you could almost hear it, you could practically feel it sizzling inside of you. Energy sang inside the TARDIS: the chime high and loud, the pitch far beyond any regular frequency. And God, it hurt.

The ringing ascended frequency and finally it shut off as the Doctor cried out just a bit.

The light disappeared.

And so had your Doctor.

You crept closer.

He pushed his leg out, patting the top of his thigh. "Take a seat, Miss L/n," he sighed, making a point to sound disappointed. He would really be if you didn't play along! So you hopped up to take a seat, holding onto the back of his neck for leverage as you made yourself comfortable.

It wasn't unusual for him to become unexpectedly horny, especially in the midst of a mission such as this. He was one for taking fortified risks.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked.

"Just that I've been a very bad girl," you informed him with an exaggerated pout. You puckered your lower lip. "I just wanted your attention, Mr. Smith."

"Consider it done. You've certainly caught my attention with this little garb," the Doctor said as he pushed a hand up your skirt. His lean fingers squeezed the inside of your thigh, making you squirm. The flash of quick pain on the easily bruised skin made your heart rush. Looking up at him, it was easy to spot the remnants of the other Doctor. Your first Doctor.

Though his face has changed, and you love him all the same-if not more-he'll always have that face.

"Professor Smith," you said as you batted your eyelashes. The size difference between you two was enough to make you squirm, stomach clenched with eager anticipation.

"Poor thing," 'Mr Smith' said. His hand kneaded the jiggling flesh of your leg, pinching it and grinning at the way you wiggled in his grip. "You're so needy for attention," he cooed. "You'd take any bit of attention from even the science teacher."

His mouth pressed against yours. Lips against lips, both soft as the petals of a flower, but clashing hard, as if you two had never kissed before! But kisses are less than few-and-far; they're frequent. They're the Doctor's favorite past time.

Even with this face you two spend nights in his study, laying in the chaise lounge, your ear against his chest and listening to his dual hearts. Even with this face do you two kiss passionately into the hours of the ambient night lights that the TARDIS has set for you. Your hands plucked at the buttons of his shirt. His build was entirely different from the previous one he bore. Where then he'd been slightly bulkier with more muscle and mass, he was now slender, lithe, and graceful. He walked like a cat with cunning mischief on his mind. His deft fingers were slipping up your skirt, hooking across the band of your underwear and cheekily tugging them down as he pushed his thumbs into your hips.

He loved, loved, the curves of your body (he always had. It wasn't something that would ever change). He liked to grip the fleshy parts of you tight, squeeze and fondle any parts of you he could get his hands on. You splayed your fingers out like a starfish, pushing your hand on his sternum just between both hearts. You could feel them both beating fast as his shirt drifted open, framing his clavicle and abdomen like a picture. He couldn't be more gorgeous than this; freckles constellated his pale skin. The shades that stood out on his skin compared to yours made your lips curl. The colors were like blots of paint on a pallet in the hands of an artist.

Confidently, you believed that a painting with every shade your two bodies had to offer would outshine the Mona Lisa or Starry Night.

The Doctor's hand crept below the threshold of your underwear. His thumb padded through the plush lips of your pussy, nudging at your pearled clit. "Not nearly as wet as I'd prefer," the Doctor chastised as he flexed his thumb in a circle on your clit, not bothering to start at a slow pace. The quick lashings of a hurried pleasure made your body tremble. Like a startled newborn you spasmed in his hold, nearly collapsing backwards. If he hadn't had an arm around your waist you would have made a fool of yourself.

"Can't stay still?" The Doctor cooed. "The more I rub this little clit, the more wet that oozes out of you. That makes it so easy for me to simply..."

Your voice strained as the Doctor slowly pushed his middle finger inside of you. He moved slowly so that you could feel every bit of your cunt that he stretched out. For all the times you'd ever attempted to stick something inside of yourself, this really took the cake.

Every time you tried it just felt...like you were sticking something inside of yourself. Like there was just something inside a vaginal cavity; Just something inside that was vibrating.

Not sexy, nor pleasurable.

The amount of times you'd attempted to do gymnastics around your bedroom in your home time, stretching your legs or doing back bends, all to find the magical spot that the internet claimed existed. These exploits were all for naught.

Imagine how strange a feeling it was for you to be proven wrong by the Doctor. You swore up and down there was something wrong, something maybe even broken, but no matter what, you just didn't have what other women suspiciously claimed to have. Well, the Doctor loves to prove others wrong. You can imagine how that first night went, with him grinning down at you and touching both the inside and outside of you at once to bring about a genre of pleasure you hadn't realized existed.

You gnawed on your lip as the Doctor slowly pushed a second digit inside, still tending to your clit to keep the feeling from being too uncomfortable. "It's alright," the Doctor said softly. He shifted his body, making a swift stand as he set you on the desk and settled between your legs, without removing his hand from you at all. He widened the gap between your legs so your knees laid hip length apart. His tall figure stood straight as he looked down at your cunt which dropped over his hand.

"And there it is," he sighed. "You're taking it like a good girl, aren't you? Even though we're in a school. A learning facility. Have you no shame?"

Whether or not he wanted an answer, you couldn't say. Your vision was blurry as he pumped up into a secret place inside of you while also stimulating your clit. The small bundle of nerves was pulsating, having become a bulbous bud of despair and anxiety. It tensed and twitched under every touch but ultimately it yearned for more. You kept tensing around his fingers, holding onto the lapels of his jacket tight.

The Doctor looked down at you. He smirked.

"You're holding onto me with quite a strong grip. Afraid I'll pull away? Afraid I'll stop? Your cunt just keeps squeezing onto me. So hot and wet. So comforting. Don't you wish it was my cock?"

You panted out a reply, not bothering to sound witty or naughty. Not the time. "Yes."

A laugh. A genuine sound. The musical chime of it faded before the Doctor replied, "I do, too. But first I'll watch you cum on my fingers. It's alright. Door's all locked. My attention is entirely on you. You've been working so hard, so eager to please Mr Smith. Now you ought to let Mr Smith please you. Although...I should be punishing you. Shouldn't I? I'm sure it wouldn't be much of a real punishment, though. After all, you tend to enjoy it when I spank your sweet ass."

The mere words sent the images into your brain. The thought of it made your pussy flinch, and the Doctor laughed again though this time round it was a touch harsh sounding. "I knew you enjoyed it," he said quietly. He kissed your forehead, his lips curled into a smile as he did so. "It's alright, dear, it's only me. You can be honest. I quite like it. Oh, my, you're dripping all the way onto my wrist!"

He feigned annoyance. "Just look...look at this mess you're making."

You dared to take a look.

A small gasp choked in your throat, the sound making the Doctor chuckle. The muscles of your thighs twitched. The knee length skirt was thrown back so you were sitting bare assed on the cool desk, the skirt gathered around your hips. Your panties were stuffed in the Doctor's trouser pockets: you could see them sticking out. When had he done that?

The tendons in his wrist were flexing as he thrust his two fingers up and in, while his thumb angled upwards to continue the steady pace on your clit. The lazy rhythm which he had set was making you sweat. He didn't seem terribly bothered by the writhing around you were doing.

"Don't you like the sight of it?" The Doctor's content was evident in the way he spoke, looking at the mess with a dreamy sparkle in his eye.

He appeared visibly intoxicated as a long and loud 'mmm' escaped you. You had a difficult time remembering that the sounds were your own; you didn't always feel physically mounted in your body during your horny escapades. Sometimes the thrall of an orgasm separated your physical self from your metaphysical self like the whites and yolk of an egg. You were being gradually poured apart with every furthering motion the Doctor made. Joules of an intense pleasure rumbled inside of you. Your stomach had a slippery feeling, like a pad of hot butter on a skillet, fuzzy and warm and enticing.

Your legs jerked around, ankles flanking into the back of his thighs and effectively pulling him closer. He was trapped between your legs-just the way he liked.

Tension unfurled in your shoulders, slipping away like drops of rain on a window pain. It tingled down your back and you tilted away, Your chin raising towards the ceiling as one of your hands roughly gripped the edge of Mr Smith's desk. Anchored to the British classroom of 2005, you started to feel the edges of a smooth and velvety orgasm close in on you. It was a feeling that couldn't be physically embodied by much else than a velvet ribbon, or a warm vanilla latte, or-

"Fuck!" You whined. "It's-"

The Doctor pushed the familiar feeling forward. It was an intensity that you could only ever feel with the Doctor, with his hand or his cock or his anything. It no longer mattered that the year was 2005; the pressure on your clit felt nothing short of a pulsing burst of energy and fire. Gold fizzled in your vision. Your cunt felt heavy. Something tickled behind your bladder, the feeling making you beg. "Doctor, wait!" You urged him as you pawed at his torso. "I think I'll-"

"That's what I want," the Doctor muttered. "Don't worry, darling, I'll take good care of you. It's alright. Just keep squirming like that and let me rub your pussy to completion. Don't tire yourself-I want to feel you with my cock, too, so just relax and enjoy it. Can't you try?"

The urge to clench your walls and even the muscles around your clit was hard to fight. But when you did, it allowed an enormous wave of pleasure to drown you. You tremored and babbled a string of incoherent words. Some kind of begging, you think, or perhaps declarations of love, hatred, or anything in between. Passions had built up inside you and now they're spilling out like the waters from a broken dam. Judging by the bleary grins of content through your teary eyes, you were praising him to high ends. Likely spilling out your love for him and his hands.

Pressure started to release as the gradual high came about. It wasn't an overt transition from pleasure to climax; it was never black and white, it was a grey scale that slowly blossomed to a bright gold and silver. Weight transpired from the top of your head to your torso and then to your belly. It sank low, behind your ovaries. A heavy, swollen sensation was hanging right over you, taunting the burst of energy that would soon make a mess over the Doctor's hand and shirt. You feared the worst as you pathetically tried to wiggle your hips around. You were so close to that feeling. If you just pushed yourself a little bit more than you could reach it.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're about to cum all over me," the Doctor murmured in a harsh tone. "That's repulsive. That's so human of you. It's disgustingly easy to make you leak with just a hand."

You buried your face into the chest of the Doctor, trying not to be too loud with the whimpers and shallow breaths you were releasing as though you were a television woman in labor.

Babbling out vowels, your entire body released a burst of warmth; like pink ribbons and fresh croissants and the tops of your thighs after you sat by a bonfire. The convulsed through you as that swollen feeling finally burst, indeed making a mess on the Doctor as you feared.

You looked down at yourself in shock. A grim sense of shame started to take over the pink-flakey-croissant-bonfires-with-Rose feeling. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice a cracking piece of foil as the Doctor licked the corner of his mouth. He quickly licked his fingers clean before shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he said as he quickly moved his fingers to the button of his pants. "It was quite a learning experience, I should say. I learned that you are a very cute, young, little cunt in desperate need of an older, wiser cock. I'm just going to give you what you want. You don't have anything otherwise to say. I know you don't."

You shook your head as you watched the Doctor palm himself. His bulge was prominent and you had to restrain a whimper as he pulled back the boxer briefs he wore, which you insisted on because he wanted to wear boxers, but you found boxer briefs undeniably sexy, and so he wore them; he couldn't exactly do otherwise when the Tardis was replacing his go to wardrobe with other garments--it was totally accidental the way the Tardis now listened to your opinion before his. But he couldn't deny: blood runs thicker than water. And your blood had sizzled on the heart of the beloved Tards. So yeah, sometimes the Tardis chose to play Christmas music when it was only November (according to the earth-calendar programmed into the mainframe, but that was also another story).

You pulled him down by the scruff of his neck, forcing him to kiss you as he played with himself. Your sloppy kiss was all tongue against tongue, open mouthed groans into one another as you guided his hand up and down on himself.

Now leaking precum, he smothered himself In the lubricant and thumbed the slit of his cock, a clenched-teeth hiss escaping himself as you urged him to prepare. But the Doctor likes to edge himself; he likes the discomfort of wanting to chase an orgasm, the self control it required to ignore the body's instinct.

"Come closer," he groaned against you. His forehead rested on yours. You both watched him pump his cock a few more times; your chest was rising and falling as hard as his.

He guided himself inside you, kissing your forehead as he slowly inched forward. The brief discomfort as he pushed past the curve of your walls was strictly rewritten into a song of bliss. Mint green paint, fresh croissants with oozing chocolate, an open campsite by the sizzling fire.

He hunched over your little figure; he was completely towering atop you, the size of a dire wolf pinning a rabbit against his own torso. He grunted as he pulled himself out only to slam his way back in, the motion making you feel full and heavy.

He worked his hips to thrust in and out of you, pulling himself practically to the tip each time. His hand was tending to your clit as he moved. Each touch on your clit felt like torture, in the best sense. You already felt swollen and every touch was amplified. The starts of a new orgasm made you tired and shudder, your mouth desperate for water as it worked its way through your body.

"You're so small," the Doctor huffed through a laugh as your figure jerked with each thrust. You were trapped against his torso, feeling the doubly beat of his hearts pounding as he plowed in and out of you. "So pliable," he added as he groped the side of your thigh exposed by the wrinkled fabric of your skirt. "So hot and tight while I have my way with you. You couldn't help yourself. You just had to be fucked right now, just like this. Always needing my attention, always, always. I never thought you'd be so bratty in public! I like it."

"Stop talking," you groaned. "That's all you ever do. Talk, talk, talk. I think you like that, more."

The Doctor gripped your chin, slowing his movements down. His hand skittered away from your clit but you were quick to pin it in place. You pushed one of your fingers inside of his mouth, watching him pucker his lips around the digit and sucking. His thick eyelashes fluttered before he jerked his head back. "Not your turn, princess," he sneered. "I'm in charge right now."

"You like when I'm in charge, too," you retorted. "You could just give up, you know."

The Doctor once again groped at you, squeezing hard on your pebbled nipples with a growl of warning. "Not the time," he told you with a rough thrust up. It made you gasp and heel over as the spotlight of sudden pleasure shone over you; the Doctor smirked as he carefully weened his way back into a quicker pace than he had been previously going at. "Don't you dare stop," you pleaded as you gripped him by the collar of his button down. "Or you're in for a load of trouble when we get home." The Doctor's brown eyes twinkled at the idea: home on the Tardis, being straddled and used by you, it sounded like a marvelous plan.

"I'm not the one who's about to get a load," the Doctor said, grinning at the gross slang, but he was unable to really care because your cheeks had tears dripping down them. "Can't wait to see how full you become. I'll be dripping down your legs the rest of the day."

"Shut up," you whimpered as you tilted your head back.

Honestly speaking you quite enjoyed his babbling chit chat. He really did like to hear himself talk. You liked it as well.

"Make me."

You two pressed your mouths into a rough mold, your tongues slithering over tips and teeth. Your arms wrapped over the back of his neck, locking him in place. His chuckles dripped down your throat as he vocalized his own pleasure. Your breathing hastened. Panting like a dog in the summer heat, you were kissing him back as if it were a fight for your life. You clenched all your body into a rigid stake as the peak of the orgasm finally prodded into your cunt. The Doctor's hands pressed into your hips and legs, his thumbs rubbing calming circles into you as he moaned. He was much more accepting of the pleasure wave as it rode through him.

Hiccuping whimpers fluttered into the Doctor's mouth as your slick, wet released. The feeling made the Doctor groan, loud and strong as he finally released the gates of his own seed. He grunted as he made sloppy thrusts; cum mixed and squeezed out of you like the lemon custard in a powdered donut, a rare, sweet, tart taste that made your eyes water.

Your mouths pulled apart with a loud smack. You both looked down at the mess. He pumped in and out a few times, hissing as you suckled a bite on the underside of his jaw. You cried out a curse as he swiftly pulled out and gripped his cock, the limb still half hard. He pushed the tip of himself against your clit, making a harsh circle so your bodies both shuddered. "Too much," he said between clenched teeth. He released a breath as final spurts of his seed painted on the lips of your pussy.

The strain on his chest eased.

The Doctor swayed forward. His face lulled into a lazy grin, tucking itself within the crook of your neck. Carefully exhaling your last deep breath, you slid back so you were laying face up, looking at the ceiling as the Doctor remained curled atop you. He hummed with content, rubbing his hand over the soft skin of your pelvis. Your skirt was still flipped up; his pants were unbuttoned.

Panting. The fluorescent lights seemed so homely in the aftershocks of this feeling. Left over in your core was the tingling of the orgasmic pain on your clit, now soft and bruised, but for good reason.

"I really think there's something strange going on," you mentioned after a few minutes of calm silence. You softly scratched his scalp, combing through his soft hair while he purred at the feeling, reminding you of a cat. "This school seems off."

"I'm tired," the Doctor said. "Work seems boring, now."

"It's life or death," you pointed out.

"Is it?"

"You're just fucked out, aren't you?" you pointed out again but with a laugh this time.

"Yeah, you're probably right...probably."

"I'm always right," you informed him. "The sooner you realize that, the easier your life will be."

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mrsdesade · 6 months ago

Text

American Sweetheart

Since most of you became really curious about my The Boys OC Ophera, I decided to write down a backstory timeline for her; also for anyone who's interested in engage roleplay with her!

Tw: SPOILER WARNING, randomly mention of these dark topics, blood, violence, human experiments (compound V), harrasement, scars

adding here her playlist for the vibes

Origins

Miranda Reinslayer was raised in the Vought Labs by a young Madeline Stillwell with other many young supers. The experiment on her weren't that brutal, only injections of compound V to test the effects. She bonded a lot with a super younger than her, who will be renamed Lesh Reinslayer. They consider themselves brother and sister.

She has developed metal tendons in his arms, they act as a magnet to control the metals around her. Due to an injection that was too powerful, her vocal cords were transformed into shiny metal; everyone thought she would die, but she only developed an extraordinary, unique ability to sing.

Miranda and Lesh attend classes at Godolkin University remotely, and only show up in person a few days a year.

When she was still in training to learn how to use her powers, she once escaped from the labs and found herself in a theater at Vought spectacles floor. To avoid being caught by scientists, she climbed onto the mezzanine floor above the stage, and after a scare due to someone in the darkness of that place, she fell down. Feeling the void under her, she developed vertigo and the fear of great heights.

At the age of 25 she was introduced into the Sevens, when Lamplighter left his place empty.

Her format is to embody the woman desired by the public, the Vought vintage and fascinating pin-up, she received the name of Ophera, because her mask was inspired by a victorian novel. She manages to find a modest job even for his brother Lesh. Who will be renamed again as Illuminatio, a superhero magician with telekinesis abilities.

Season 1

After Starlight's entry into the team and Translucent's disappearance, Ophera continues to work in the Seven, maintaining a good and neutral relationships with everyone, his musical career also grows.

As also happened in the past to the other women on the team, Homelander tries to exploit her popularity as his own advantage, and during an interview admits that him and Ophera are dating.

Ophera is not at all happy about the revelation, her nature makes her independent and difficult to capture, she's sarcastic and often rude with him, but she's forced by her contract to continue the show and pretend to be the perfect girlfriend. In private she suffers quite a few abuses from him. He likes to play with her fears and her body too much.

Madeline dies and leaves her place empty at Vought.

Ophera sees some of Homelander's weaknesses and decides that she would take the reins of the situation, foolishly ambitious, she thinks she can manipulate him to make her life more calm. So, she begins to be gentle and more caring towards him, and the two inevitably bond. The farce of the false couple soon becomes a twisted romance, where it is difficult to distinguish reality from fiction.

There are no romantic feelings on her part, just a strange and sincere affection that she cannot deny. On the contrary, he begins to demonstrate some sort of dependence. They continue to live together as colleagues, bed friends, often sarcastically teasing each other.

Season 2

Homelander and her starts cover up crimes together. His brutal methods and desire for power influence Ophera and she becomes even more greedy and ambitious. She even kill another super during a competition, just because he wanted to take her place in the Seven.

Illuminatio, after that, begins to see something rotten in Vought's intentions and threatens to expose their experiments on kids like him and his sister. During a show he threatens to kill some spectators and is killed by Homelander in front of the whole team.

Days after, Ophera, tormented by the loss of his brother, must save people inside a skyscraper that risk to collapse after a bomb explodes, Homelander intervenes and joins her on the ongoing mission. But his intentions are less noble than expected. Feeling that he has become too attached to her, he thinks she is a danger and uses his lasers to try to kill her. Causing the entire building to collapse.

She is presumed dead, and receives a public funeral. Stormfront takes her place on the team.

Season 3

After a long period spent hiding among normal people and healing his wounds, thanks to the complicity of Starlight, Ophera joins the Boys team, interested in getting her revenge. The white mask that she has always worn only for beauty and because of her costume, now serves firmly on her face to hide the big burning scar that Homelander's laser left on the right side of her face.

He works with the team to create the perfect opportunity to take Homelander down, but often end arguing with Butcher and Soldier Boy. On the contrary, she gets along very well with Kimiko, the girl loves when Ophera hums her old songs in some lonely moments.

I won't go into detail about the Herogasm event. But know that it's a quite familiar place for her, and she knows perfectly well how to access it. Many are surprised to see her around again. During that event she meets Homelander for a moment, and he almost doesn't recognize her due to her scar, he's surprised to see her alive, but also he appears somewhat disgusted by her actual appearance.

During the battle at the Vought tower, where she can let go of all the anger she's been holding in for months, she finds herself saving Ryan from some pieces of heavy metal that were about to fall on him. After that, she loses consciousness due to a fight with Homelander. And her body disappears again, not even the Boys know where she ended up.

Season 4 (working on, following the s4)

When she wakes up, she's in a hospital bed, with half her face bandaged and no idea how she ended up there. A single word from Ryan that he feels grateful to her for being saved was enough for his father, to save her and decide to operated to give her back her vintage diva face.

Initially she refuses, categorically not wanting to return to work for the Vought. She is asked to return to singing on stage, to enjoy the crowds, being under the spotlight and leave the miserable life she was doing outside Seven. Greedy for power, ambitious, feeling cornered by Homelander Ashley, she finally gives in and agrees to return to the team. And it makes her spectacular return, gaining even more popularity than before.

Ophera will remain faithful to the Boys group, and by staying in secret contact with Starlight she will monitor things from the inside the Tower. But she can't deny her unhealthy desire to be a successful woman once again.

Who knows if she will be able to maintain her fame and at the same time find a way to take revenge for the things she being through?

-------------

That's all for now! Things for Ophera will definitely change with the arrival of seasons 4/5 (and If we do roleplays I will make it canon for her), we'll see! Thanks for the attention you're giving to my girl <3

#the boys oc #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys fanfic #the boys #the boys season 4 #the boys season 5 #the boys series #the boys spoilers #my post #original character #homelander x oc #homelander x y/n

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afreakingdork · 11 months ago

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 52

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

He's supposed to be dunking on someone else, but I feel like we're all affected by this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

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

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

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Mikey had been texting you non-stop.

No matter how innocuous it was, it troubled you just how flagrant you were being. In the week since the first, you hadn’t had a single flare up. There should have been anger. There was a rage that should have been parboiled like his damn chains on your skin. Instead, you’d simply stared when you’d received the first message after having just arrived at work. The surprised exclamation about Donnie also liking cooking had only given you pause. It wasn’t even a white flag. It was a blob on an otherwise empty message board. A single blip that you could pocket and forget; it was the second text that caused you to respond.

It was an image of Splinter screaming with a hand up as he tried to fend off the phone.

With only a few words and an image, you put it all together. The aging starlet had continued his streak of being the worst communicator. Based on the fact that Splinter was in his favorite chair, you set the scene of Mikey spending time with his father. Maybe catching up as adults with busy lives did, Splinter, many months after the fact, would have tossed an off-the-cuff comment about how you’d told him Donnie cooked, for better or worse. Mikey then incensed by the claim, rushed for confirmation and, against his father’s wishes, took a photo to validate his utterance.

The strange understanding of someone you barely knew had you crafting a response.

You: He went through an intense science related phase is all.

That single watering was enough to grow a field.

What followed that day was Mikey info dumping about some chef who dabbled in the same. He went on and on about how said man made cooking easy before outpouring an explanation of the years long hiatus between parts of his show. There had been a cookbook made in the interim that seemed to solidify network choices and you were soon on the receiving more pictures, now of Mikey with his signed copy.

Then another, where a starry eyed Mikey who maybe looked a few years younger was photographed with the man you could now attach a face to.

You’d meant to leave it.

In all the time he’d been sharing this story, you hadn’t responded once.

From his end, all he received were read receipts and yet he kept going.

Each time you took a break there was a new rolling number of messages and you caught up on them like reading the paper.

Sipping tea to warm yourself in the late afternoon, you were at the very least entertained. Part of you clung steadfast to the brick he’d tried to hit you with, but there was a disconnect from that menace and this voice. He was now a newsletter to be read at your leisure and you imagined this would be the last. A single blip on the radar that was Michelangelo, you’d have one better memory of him to hold onto.

Going back for your last work stretch until clock out, you wondered how that chef had reacted when he found out about his mutant devotee. You imagined he’d accepted Mikey’s looks then he’d probably followed it up with some guilt about animals and autonomy. Thinking of cow mutants and their stand to eat more chicken, you were soon off and gave your phone a final once over before heading out.

Your preview message wished you a nice night and you read backwards to catch up.

Mikey: Alright!

Mikey: That’s enough of that!

Mikey: Thank you for tuning into DJ Dr Delicate Touch CPAs radio hour

Mikey: We hope you had a good time listeners

Mikey: Okay wait who even listens to the radio anymore?

Mikey: I gotta do this like a podcast and thank my sponsor

Mikey: ShipStation, it’s better than the post office probably

Mikey: Fr tho

Mikey: Thanks for your time

Mikey: Have a nice night! 😁

Odd.

It was strange.

Putting your phone away, you should have been mad.

No matter how much you tried you couldn’t summon it.

The entire trip home, you tried to think about what you were missing.

The best you could come up with was that his words of leaving you be during the kidnapping had been ones you used more than once in your daily life. A level statement from one with otherwise untethered shoulders, it spoke of some kind of maturity. Besides Leo, the other two each had it in their own flavors. Mikey’s made the least sense as he flittered like a confused butterfly, while Raph seemed like the only one with a touch of reality.

You shouldn’t indulge this.

It was in reaching for your door knob that you were struck with an odd thought.

You weren’t.

Why worry?

Feeling like you had wasted your ride home, you left your concerns at the door as you stepped into the space with your partner.

A pleasant evening followed and the next day arrived without a similar hitch.

The following morning rolled out in a relaxed state that found you at your desk. It was sometime around 10am that you got another message.

Mikey: You ever wonder why eggs don’t taste like chicken?

Stupid.

That had been your first thought.

Of course they didn’t; they were embryos, but a second thought had you typing.

You: If you can’t taste then how do you know that’s still true?

It was mean.

You couldn’t even convince yourself that you hadn’t mean it that way.

Part of you did.

Part of you also felt like shit for poking fun at an obvious disability.

What did you even know about it?

You knew he couldn’t smell cum on you like his brothers.

That had to correlate with taste and yet you were the tasteless one.

It’d show him, you decided.

There had to be a barrier.

You weren’t familial.

You weren’t friends.

You were whatever you had with Leo at best.

Two photos thrown into the ether and an open line in case of emergencies.

The silence said you’d put the matter to bed.

Your phone should do the same.

You had work.

Moving to set your device down, you spied a percolation of bubbles before a giant image spawned.

Raising your phone on sheer instinct, you stared down at a meme.

An image of a turtle with its mouth open as if it had just been burdened with the reality of its existence.

Mind blown.

Mikey: TREE FALLS IN THE FOREST WHO!?

Mikey: THATS SO GOOD

Mikey: IM THROWING THAT BACK IN LEOS FACE RN

Mikey: REACTION IN COMING

Mikey: HERE WE GO

Mikey: HES EATING GOLDEN GRAHAMS GOT HIM

Your lips parted as you stared.

Mikey: aw man wtf 😩

Mikey: It didn’t land!!! 😩😩😩

Mikey: I did wait like an hour before responding

Mikey: He said it first btw

Mikey: Credit where its due

Mikey: Though wait hold up

Mikey: I take it back

Mikey: He totally got it from a video

Mikey: OH I KNOW

Mikey: Give me another! Hurry!

Scrambling for an unknown reason, you started to type out one before erasing it in exchange for another.

You: Does a straw have one hole or two?

You stared at the blank screen with an odd impatience until again there was a snap of bubbles and several images jockeyed for screen time.

They were a series of different images all conveying that his mind was blown.

Then another bout of silence.

Your cubicle felt way too large.

You were a tiny speck amongst moveable walls.

Mikey: GOT HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

A series of party gifs appeared in rapid escalation.

Mikey: He stuttered and everything

Mikey: Leo: one- no two… wait…?

Mikey: THE LOOK ON HIS FACE

Mikey: I’m running now btw

Mikey: He’s totally chasing me

Mikey: Dropped his cereal!

Mikey: LOSER IN THE BATTLE OF THE MINDS

An image of a chef loading penne into a gun had you slamming your phone down.

Hand over your mouth, you tried to contain your laughter until you stumbled away.

Far from the too big walls of your office and into the bathroom where you released your giggles.

You could see it.

You could see Leo turning to brotherly rage after being beaten by a quip from his younger brother.

The playful nature of chasing after him, bowl in hand.

Then the fateful spill where Mikey left him to clean up the mess.

Sputtering and washing your hands only to feel the cool water, you attempted to reign yourself in when you felt a similar bubble and pop as Mikey’s messages gave.

You’d mistakenly activated something.

Something you’d be stuck with.

It was too late in a non-lethal sense.

That something was a week of near non-stop messages from the orange turtle.

Or rather the Ornate Box variety, which was one of many things you’d mistakenly waded into knowing about the man.

He had an awe inspiring bit of knowledge from over a dozen fields, though he wasn’t an expert in any of them.

He had ADHD which he spoke of as some shitty roommate he was forced to deal with.

He had over a thousand reaction images all sorted by mood.

More than one of which he’d created and you realized you were vaguely aware of them as they’d gone viral.

He had no idea anyone else used his pictures.

He both had a huge and non-existent social media presence.

A handful of accounts with millions of followers, he was a ghost of a bygone era that some people still whispered about.

He had completely forgotten.

He’d logged off one day after deciding that it wasn’t good for his health and never looked back.

He didn’t even seem to have realized he had that number of followers in the first place.

He was authentically him.

That made him dangerous.

You understood now why younger Donnie had shunned him. Someone that open was terrifying. His power was too great for one single soul to hold, even with his faults. Those came mostly in the form of his attention span which made you almost wonder if he was struck with his attention disorder if only to restrain his power. The odd balance of the universe that Mikey himself had explained to you one night, he was as he needed to be.

He was infectious.

The clear baby of the family, he also appeared to be the other men’s favorite. Setting aside how they were loudly ranking one another, it was how Mikey conducted himself that had sucked you in. Even when he was plowing, bullheaded, into something without a care for the repercussions, it was difficult to fault him. It was comedic in a sense, but in a larger one it was more.

He was devastatingly earnest.

Not once had pretext revealed.

It had been on your way back to your desk after refilling your water bottle on the third day that you realized he could have an ulterior motive. You guarded yourself then. Reading back to see if you had let something slip and keeping an eye out moving forward.

Only, he’d smashed the thought.

Unlike Leo, he never seemed to lead anywhere.

In fact, he hadn’t brought up Donnie once since that first message. In the time since, you’d mostly placed that surprise as one he related to cuisine itself. Cooking for Mikey was elevated to an art form and he respected it with the worship of a clergyman.

In that way, he seemingly understood Donnie better than you.

From the way Mikey talked about food, it was nearly the same as Donnie talked about his passions. They both had the brash exterior of a scientist with a careful consideration of blasphemy in case their faith was infringed upon. Things were meant to be done a certain way, whether it be handed down by their field’s forbearers, and to deviate was a cardinal sin.

Mikey was a little more self aware.

Though he hadn’t brought it up, you eventually placed that original conversation hadn’t been about some chef, but about Mikey himself.

That was why he’d thanked you.

He was explaining away his own confusion.

A learned habit you imagined came from a family where actions were rarely done with obvious intention, he was definitely the type to beat a point to death.

It only acted to enhance his innocence.

He could only be a mastermind far beyonds the likes of Donnie if he intended anything else.

Your conversations were nothing more than two people casually getting to know each other.

He was a regular guy with a love of life in spite of its hardships.

Even after the long day he’d had yesterday where everything had gone wrong and a villain had made off with a little old lady’s retirement check. Mikey’s resolve hadn’t been shaken. He’d taken the woman to go get groceries even while she made comment after comment about his species. He spoke of it all with a sense of levity and how, when he’d carried her things back to her apartment, she’d berated him outside of it in case he thought to rob her later. All taken with a grain of salt that he dismissed as he didn’t know the life she lived, he then explained the art he’d seen.

On the way home, beaten in a mental sense and, not doubting, but worn on humanity he’d sworn to protect, he described a mural.

Graffiti that he refused to take a picture of as that would muddy its message, he wove poetry about its lines. Colors warm like a sunset, he’d gone and traced the paint against the brick. He described the bubbling of the layers and how he could see which direction the artist took the cans in vivid detail.

He hadn’t even needed to say it renewed his faith.

There was no ending message that said he was reminded of why he chose to do this.

He only explained the mural before switching subjects as if that life affirming event meant as much as asking about a TV show you’d been watching the night before.

Donnie had taken notice.

You knew that right away, the first time you responded to a message in his periphery.

You texted your friends regularly, but this was new.

That excitement of getting to know someone in a flurried catch up.

He’d never seen you like this.

He also didn’t mention it.

You were thankful.

You hadn’t figured out how to explain it.

Donnie respected you.

You loved him.

It probably wouldn’t have been an issue had it not interrupted on the fifth night.

You and Donnie had been making love. You languished in calling it vanilla because that was the world’s most expensive and coveted spice. Never a dull moment with your partner, it was a casual renewal of your bond that had been interrupted by your phone vibrating loudly on the nightstand.

Kissing Donnie away from the distraction, the sudden flood of messages meant that for you the sound became a backdrop. It had taken less than a minute before he'd abandoned your lips to glower down at you.

“We’re not discussing this while I’m inside you.”

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

He knew you were talking to one of the other turtles.

He might even know which.

You would to drill him on the how after.

“Gonna be hard…” You feigned trailing off and nudged from beneath him.

He took the bait with a wary lowering of his lids.

“Considering there’s always some piece of you inside…”

He’d growled and under the cover of fucking you for your insolence, your phone had somehow been thrown safely across the apartment.

When you found it after, you ran through the messages accrued. “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be?” He responded without pause.

“How’d you know?”

“Yesterday morning you asked me to grab your phone.”

You looked over where he was folding some freshly cleaned sheets.

“I don’t usually inspect your electronics. You received a message as I was passing it off.”

“Why… aren’t you mad?”

“Are you under duress?”

“No.”

“Blackmail?”

You snorted. “Not even.”

“That one is…” Donnie’s lip curled with silent fury.

You felt guilt. “He’s a lot.”

“Incessant.” Your boyfriend looked right at you.

“He’s something… I don’t know.”

“It’s not my business.”

“I mean, it is.”

“No.”

“Donnie.”

“Who you speak to is not.” He snapped a top cover. “I trust your judgment.” He turned to construct a stack and moved away.

It wasn’t a blessing, but in an abstract way you understood where Donnie was coming from.

“Now if it was the blue one…” Donnie murmured from beyond your sight.

You had rolled your eyes and kept talking to Mikey.

Around the tenth day, it had become part of your routine. He wasn’t the type to necessarily wait or care for a response. He’d blow up your phone at any and all hours and as the newness of him wore off and settled into what seemed like a long term thing, you now responded to him at specific times. Usually catching up in the morning and at lunch, his late night messages were slowly forgotten as you had a series of new year hangouts with friends. Donnie’s attendance had been relegated to only one event where he devastated his social battery through one droning charcuterie board.

Resolutions to enact now that would surely be forgotten by February, your schedule was filled. It was after one such lengthy dinner that you’d come home, greeted Donnie, buried yourself in sheets, and realized you hadn’t heard from Mikey all day.Unearthing your phone as you cuddled up against your drowsy partner, you found no messages in your inbox and your brow came down with concern.

Mikey always messaged you.

The quick worry was doused just as fast as you reminded yourself how busy you were. He surely was as well, especially with all his hobbies, and also you barely knew the man’s real schedule. Your conversations with random ones, usually dictated by whatever topic of the hour interested him. It had been so easy to rely on him leading that it was sort of eye opening to find he hadn’t been the one to reach out. It made you scroll back through your messages where you quickly found that not once had you ever instigated.

Is this why he checked out from reality?

That flippant part of him, his supposed failing.

People were so quick to attach themselves to him, did he have to hold everyone else at arm’s length?

He made it simple, but was that his intention?

He never had ulterior motives.

Even when he was setting up for a punchline, he’d mistakenly jump the gun without waiting for the lead up because he was so excited.

He was good natured.

Leaning your head further against Donnie’s carapace, you wondered if there was something beyond.

If this was how he treated everyone around him, then there must have been an inner layer.

The true self he protected, was it a worried one?

Did he break?

Did he cry?

Was his heart always on his sleeve?

A bleeding one.

You felt Donnie rouse.

Stilling, you felt bad for having woken him.

“You okay?” He asked without bothering to look over his shoulder.

“Yeah, you go back to sleep.” You nudged him with your nose.

There was a long bout of silence that stretched and made you think he had done just that.

You sat amongst versions of Mikey guarded.

A series of clay soldiers, each modeled to protect their host.

All fragile in their own ways.

“It’s about him.” Donnie spoke softly, carrying little in his tone.

You nodded.

“We can…” He hesitated before unintentionally clicking his tongue with parted lips and an exhale. “In truth, I would rather never speak of this, but it concerns me. I don’t want you to feel that you cannot speak to me about something.”

You gave a small understanding huff.

He gave the gentlest shove backward to alert you that he was going to roll over.

You moved out of his way.

He got situated on his opposite side and stared you down. “A lengthy way to say: speak to me. About anything. Regardless. Even the blue one.”

“I feel guilty.” You blinked up at him. “That’s not why I’m upset right now, but I feel guilty about talking to him after what he did to you.”

“That is not your fight.” He brushed your cheek.

“We’re one. You’ve said that before. I should hate him. That would be doing right by you and-”

A finger pressed to your lips cutting you off. “I appreciate the thought, but no.”

You pursed your lips against his digit.

“How to explain…?” He asked the air. “Our union is to share burden. To ease the other. Do I seem perturbed?”

You looked around the top half of your vision and hoped to indicate that certain messages received had interrupted one union in particular which garnered his ire.

He pinched your lips down against his thumb.

You giggled.

“My quarrel with them has not been put to rest, but it is as good as dead. With the rat’s deal and our current trajectory a lifelong one, I can’t see a way in which that would change. That does not mean I am not cautious, only that they are bound by duty to you as am I.”

Your eyes widened.

He came in to rest his lips against your forehead as he spoke. “You have unintentionally settled a life long grievance. I am content in knowing I hardly have to think of them.”

You touched your pads to Donnie’s plastron.

He took it as you wanted to see him and backed up enough for you to.

“You’re okay? You promise?”

“I will inform you if I do not care about a conversation’s contents. If you give me fodder otherwise then I have grounds to take up the sword as I have always wished.” In the dark he especially glinted with malice.

“Are you using me?”

“Not explicitly.” He caught a playful kiss.

You pushed him away. “Terrible.”

He hummed an agreement.

“I’m worried is all.” You had to stop and locate your phone. “He went from messaging every day and then today nada.”

“Did he have plans?”

“He’s always doing something…” Your brow furrowed.

Donnie looked up and away with a sort of satisfaction.

“I’m hoping he’s not dead.” You retorted, dryly.

“Your loss.” Donnie responded with another wicked smile.

“It’s too soon to ask. I guess part of me is worried he’s already-” You cut yourself off.

Since when had you become attached?

Sure he was fun to talk to, but you knew loads of fun people.

Mikey was something all his own, but there were millions of people on the planet.

He, in particular, had a specific glaring failure of his person.

One that manifested across from you.

It was also the tether of which the two of you had met.

The odd dichotomy of it all felt abysmal.

What did you want?

It’s not like you’d thought Donnie would join their little family.

The dynamic would never be a solid one.

He had his own support system now.

At the same time, you felt a strange attachment to these beings.

The ones you could not help, but were inadvertently stuck with all the same.

You had always wondered what happened to Leo after the gym incident.

Had he reconsidered his position?

You hadn’t dared ask Mikey.

That wasn’t the youngest’s business.

Mikey had his own life to live.

They all did.

What bound them to you?

What bound them to each other?

You softened.

What binds anyone to anything?

You looked at Donnie anew.

Your partner shifted against his pillow watching you go through the motions.

“I thought we were becoming friends and I’m kind of sad in case he changed his mind.”

If surprise struck him in any way, Donnie betrayed none of it.

He only reached out and fixed a flyaway hair on your head.

“If he has, then he is a bigger fool than even I conceived.”

You buried yourself into your mate’s chest.

He rumbled a soothing churr and you let your eyes drift shut.

You would have made it to dreamland if a sharper nagging vibration hadn’t interrupted your journey.

“With age, they say.” You felt Donnie pick up your phone from where it had once again been forgotten.

“It’s him?”

“Yes.” He passed you the device.

“Thank you.”

He only hummed a response before rolling over. “Wake me if you receive good intel.”

“Uh huh!” You snarked, rolling onto your back to check the message.

Mikey: Oh man group was wild today!

You: Group?

Mikey: Yeah! We ran a lemonade stand to raise funds and as an exercise and there was only one fire!

Mikey: New record!

An image of a cartoon penguin cheering came next.

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about

Mikey: Group! You know!

You: I really don’t

Mikey: Did I not…?

Mikey: Dang it! Why didn’t you say anything?

You sent an image you’d gotten from him of a cartoon character from your youth raising a judgmental brow.

He responded with a picture of a tanuki snickering.

You imagined he’d get along well with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.

Mikey: Me and another mutant named Todd run a villain rehabilitation therapy group

Mikey: My other dad, Draxum, once put together a league of bad guys to try and crush or turn us or whatever he was doing at the time

Mikey: I forget

Mikey: Anyway Todd was a member (long story) but one day years ago when we were doing our yearly camping trip (longer story) I brought up how he was actually good and he said all the guys were good!

Mikey: I kinda…

You watched him struggle to respond for the first time.

Your gaze flicked to Donnie.

Mikey: Not to make it weird but have a personal tie to that

Mikey: You know

Mikey: You get it

Mikey: Anyway not to make you uncomfortable

Mikey: We decided to start a group with an open invitation coffee donuts the whole thing you see in movies in case anyone wanted to talk it out and learn why and whats of good and bad and if that’s really a thing cause I don’t think it is

Mikey: We all just got stuff

Mikey: Sometimes that stuff sucks

Mikey: You never know whats really going on with someone else

Mikey: Yeah!

Mikey: Wow that was long

Mikey: Is it hot?

Mikey: Are you feeling hot?

Mikey: Heat wave in January!

Mikey: Global warming!!

He sent a comic about people being hot tied to the concept.

You: You’ve been running this group for years?

Mikey: Yep! We just had our… I don’t know… like 4 year anniversary

Mikey: We’re gonna do something big for 5

Mikey: Four was like a pizza party

Mikey: tbf one two and three were also pizza parties

Mikey: Who hates pizza?

Mikey: It’s pizza!

Tapping your screen, you took a breath before sending your next message.

You: Are you doing it in hopes someone will come?

Mikey: …

You watched as Mikey stopped responding.

Was that too much?

He’d just skirted the topic for your sake.

Mikey: In the beginning yeah

Mikey: Like a small part of me

Mikey: Even when the rest of me gave up

Mikey: Always hoped…

Mikey: I don’t know

Mikey: It’s sappy

Mikey: The others call me dumb

Mikey: I thought I had a track record

Mikey: Good old Mikey he can convert the best of them with good intentions!

Mikey: The therapist of the family!

Mikey: All you have to do is talk it out!

Mikey: You know the wild thing about group?

He waited.

You: What?

Mikey: It taught me the exact opposite.

The period there really caught you.

Mikey: That even coming in with the best intentions doesn’t mean anything

Mikey: You can’t control other people’s reactions

Mikey: Only your own

Mikey: That good and evil is a stupid depiction

Mikey: No one is really one or the other

Mikey: I’m not better than anyone else

Mikey: I’ve done some stuff

Mikey: I’ll tell you

Mikey: That doesn’t read write in text…

Mikey: I won’t literally tell you

Mikey: Even though I could

Mikey: Man actually I might!

Mikey: Not the point though what I’m trying to say is there is so much out in this world and healing is a wild journey and there’s so many ways to take it and la dee da this is usually where people start to think I’m a crazy hippie man flower child born in the wrong decade!

Mikey: Point is

Mikey: I stopped doing it for him or anything else

Mikey: I do it for me now

Mikey: I love therapy and if someone else gets something out of it then I’m STOKED

Mikey: And not cause I did it

Mikey: Its getting to see them do it?

Mikey: Them break through their trauma

Mikey: To see themselves as something more than what they were told or what they were forced to be

Mikey: Whatever

Mikey: It’s great

Mikey: How was your day?

You smiled and clutched your phone to your chest for a long moment before returning to the text chain.

You: How often do you do it?

Mikey: Every Wednesday!

Mikey: Wait

Mikey: OH ME GOSH DO YOU WANT TO GO!?

Mikey: YOU SHOULD TOTALLY COME 🤩

Mikey: Wait not because I want you know who to come you get that right?

Mikey: Oh gosh you don’t think that that’s what I’ve wanted all along right?

Mikey: The weight of my actions is suddenly a bus!!!

Mikey: Y/N!!!

You: I don’t! Stop! You’re spiraling!

Mikey: Fweh

Mikey: Really?

You: Yes! Stop!

Mikey: FWEH

Mikey: Bullet dodged!

You watched a Matrix gif appear

Mikey: Fr tho I think everyone should come

Mikey: Dad came by once!

Mikey: Leo won’t!

Mikey: Jerk! He needs it most!

Mikey: Raph comes when he can but everyone always ends up attacking him its funny

Mikey: Drax is always there tho

Mikey: YOU CAN MEET HIM!!!

Mikey: …

Mikey: I should be honest about something

You: ?

Mikey: Not the first messages but like after

Mikey: How I kept messaging you wasn’t totally innocent

You squeezed your phone.

Mikey: You… I don’t know what you did but like obviously you reached Donnie but you super did something to Leo

Your head fluffed your pillow.

Mikey: Like seriously hes been different

Mikey: Softer

Mikey: Kinda thoughtful?

Mikey: He was peak mad before so its a really noticeable change

Mikey: Like hes finally thinking about things instead of just holding his usual grudges

Mikey: I had to see what the big deal was about you

Mikey: Were you stepping on my therapist territory?

Knowing he would keep going on, you penned out a message.

You: What did you find out?

Mikey: That you’re just a person

Mikey: Just like everyone else

Mikey: I should have known

You watched a gif appear where a random cartoon character asked how many times they had to teach an old man a lesson.

Mikey: That’s a beauty of life

Mikey: You just keep learning!

Standing outside a community center, you thought about what you were about to do.

You were going to attend this week’s group therapy session with Mikey.

He hadn’t been intrusive when you dodged responding to his offer, but in the last few days, you had asked question after question. He accommodated them like some kind of monk and when you finally requested the address, he unleashed a barrage of memes that had momentarily slowed your phone to a crawl.

Berating him for it, you’d gotten the information and ended up here after work.

A few people trickled in around you, human and otherwise, and from your last text with Mikey, he was here somewhere to set up the dreaded chairs he had told you so much about.

Shooting off one last message to Donnie and having already promised to take him out this Friday as pittance, you heard a gasp to your left.

You were slow to turn and then forced to look up.

“Y/N!”

“Hypno!” You went straight over to the hippo who cordially took your hands.

“Small world! What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to…” You glanced center then back. “Are you…?”

Hypno lit up. “Could you believe? I found these meetings after our little soiree!”

“The group? Wait, I’m glad you’re okay! I’m sorry we got separated-!”

Hypno blew a raspberry and rolled it into a sound. “Pssha! I’m quite alright. Knew I would be! Knew you would be too! I like to imagine I cleared the way for your escape! Not my first shindig ruined by those infernal turtles!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Still…”

Hypno nodded furiously before gesturing for you both to move. He then offered his arm and you took it with him covering your hand comfortably with his own. “Yes, well, you inspired me that night.”

“Me?” You craned your neck.

“Why yes!” He huffed, holding his head high. “Softening the great Donatello! Weren’t you something? You were!”

“I’m just…” Mikey’s text rang in your ears. “…a person.”

“It only takes one to change your entire trajectory.” Hypno told you thoughtfully as some random man held the door. “Thanks, mate!”

The man responded in kind and even scrambled to get the second double door. More pleasantries were exchanged and you entered a gymnasium where a bunch of fold out chairs were formed into a circle.

“Where was I…? Oh, yes!” Hypno squeezed you in a move to steer you towards the refreshment table. “Our little talk sat with me, you know? Give yourself more credit. You got through to this old hippo’s heart! You made me think, ‘Hypno, old boy, do you like the villainy or do you like the captive audience?’ That was you!” He released and you stared at a table covered in a cheap cloth with donuts and drinks dotting its surface. “Do try Todd’s lemonade. It is absurdly delicious.”

“Mikey said.” You eyed the sweating pitcher and Hypno poured you a glass.

“Michelangelo!?” He crooned, passing you the first and pouring his own. “That’s new! You weren’t too keen on him last I saw!”

“Last I saw he was attacking you…” You grimaced and tried to cover your nerves with a sip. Hit with a sudden burst of sunshine flavor, you had to set your glass down and exchange it for the entire pitcher. “What is in this!?”

“Right!?” Hypno downed a cup that was too small for him and you poured him a second. “This is Todd’s true evil.”

“I’m hearing a lot about this guy…” Things were moving too fast.

You’d meant for this to be some casual peek into Mikey’s life.

Everything felt like it was suddenly happening so fast.

You didn’t mind the company.

You’d thought of Hypno off and on since you last saw him.

Reconnecting with him was a great bonus, but there was something unsettling about how unconcerned you felt.

“You’ll meet him! He’s…” Hypno scanned the room. “Not here yet or in the back, but he’ll introduce the affair.”

You nodded, sipping more of that citrusy drink.

“Bother! I keep getting distracted. It’s been too long!” Hypno gave an animalistic snort which caused his ears to wiggle. “As I was saying, again, I found this advertisement stuck to my shoe one day and chanced upon this lot. They enforced what I was thinking. There’s more to me than what I do. Some may use it to excuse themselves, but they’re missing the greater message!”

You watched on with wide eyes.

“And bollocks to our partners!” Hypno threw his head high. “We’re our own people who make our own choices, isn’t that right?”

“Well, yeah, b-but…” You hadn’t even bothered asking Donnie to attend.

“Warren can be a bit hardheaded…!” Hypno’s gaze narrowed before he wilted in a fond sigh.

“Love…” You patted Hypno’s arm sympathetically.

“Y/N!” Mikey’s voice cut through the room with an echo.

Suddenly surrounded, he was swamped with a dull murmur of greetings that he desperately tried to dodge. Everyone wanted something from him and he ended up outright screaming in someone’s face that he was busy. It split the crowd like a tide and allowed him to charge over without further interruption.

“See what I mean?” Hypno giggled a whisper to you. “If that’s not a form of so-called ‘evil’ I don’t know what is!”

You tidied up your laughter as Mikey reached you.

“I did not think about how to say hi!” He announced and wiped his hand as if he was going to offer it to you before thinking better.

“Eh, it’s fine.” You shrugged.

“You know, Ron!?” Mikey sprouted, dispelling the strangeness.

“Hypno, please!” The hippo groaned.

“Mikey, please!” Mikey mocked back.

“I’m sensing a thing…” You gestured with your cup.

“It totally is.” Mikey stared listlessly at you before something over your shoulder caught his eye.

He animated with immense joy and blew right past you.

“Nice to be on good terms with your parents.” Hypno mentioned without malice.

“I think you turned out pretty good without them.” You told him as you turned to see where Mikey had gone.

You heard Hypno babble something emotional that didn’t connect to real words, but all reality seemed to close in at the menacing sight of an enormous fuchsia colored goat man. As if waiting for his spotlight, the man then belted out a long burst of maniacal laughter. If it weren’t for the fact that Mikey was literally hanging off his arm, you might have been more worried about what you’d actually walked into.

“You finally got that darned pot working?!” Hypno cupped around his mouth to shout.

“Yes!” The goat turned, revealing a coffee pot in hand by lifting it up high. “No more shall we suffer under wretchedly incorrect brew times!”

“Y/N!” Mikey called and, with a flip like a gymnast on a bar, snatched the pot from the man’s hands.

The goat turned his attention from Hypno to you as if you were some grotesque bug on the hippo’s lapel.

“Seems like you caught the Baron’s eye.” Hypno nudged your side.

“Baron?” You asked and were assaulted with a comment you’d heard before.

What I do know is I came into possession of a yokai known as Baron Draxum.

Hooves beat the wooden gym floor and you were now the Baron’s clear target.

You bumped Hypno who fussed and steadied you, unintentionally blocking your escape.

In a hop and a skip, Mikey reached you first and chirped happily. “Y/N! Draxum! Draxum, Y/N! This is my other dad!”

“Nice to… uh…” You stared up at Draxum as he glared down his nose at you.

“You don’t look like much…” Draxum spoke with a gruff voice.

“I’m really not…” You wilted.

Draxum craned a brow. “Hard to imagine someone so meek would tame one of my more successful creations.”

“Barry.” Mikey put on a bit of heat.

Draxum sighed. “It is nice to meet you. I await picking apart your psyche.”

Mikey shoved him. “He means chat! He can’t wait to chat!” He clucked nervously before continuing to push a stiff Draxum over to the chairs. “When are you going to remember that words mean things!? Different things!”

“My speech is impeccable.” Draxum huffed, allowing himself to be pushed as if he were on a dolly.

“If that’s worn you out then you’re in for quite the night.” Hypno tittered.

“This is…” You blinked at the magician and back to the crowd starting to form.

“A lot and it only gets weirder!” Hypno cheered and started to join while beckoning you to come with.

Staying close to what you mentally dubbed your accountability buddy, you both took seats. Mikey got Draxum in one of his own and shared with him a few stern words before he leapt away to plug the coffee pot in. Draxum folded one leg over the other and stared casual daggers at you while Hypno fed you gossip about the members.

“Hello, friends!” A small mutant appeared on the stage holding a puppy and though there was no one to operate that sort of thing, a spotlight shined upon him. Dressed in a preppy outfit stolen for a 1980’s catalog and with a puppy tucked under one arm, he commanded a silence that fell over the group.

“Look upon him.” Hypno joked in your ear. “You are in the presence of the Spine-Breaking Bandit.”

Your head flew to Hypno’s in complete disbelief.

“Did everyone get some lemonade? It’s a fresh batch!” The furry mutant easily leapt off the stage. ”I got service puppies for everyone tonight! Pet them to your heart’s content! They love that! And to whoever gets Steve, remember to scratch behind the little fellas ears because he just loves that doesn’t he?! Doesn't he!?” Dropping to a baby voice, the so-called Spine Breaker pet the puppy in hand before a dozen more poured out from the stage.

Everyone getting one as described, you soon had a mutt in your lap and Hypno was cooing with one snuggled up in each arm.

“Oh! Everyone!” The mutant clapped on approach. “I’m happy to report we raised $123 dollars for Repo’s surgery! Good job!”

“Enough for a single Tylenol.” Draxum clicked his tongue loudly. “The medical system you humans endure is more tragic than anything I could have concocted. Though I suppose you did survive those plagues….”

“Yeah, I’ll take you experimenting on me again any day!” A strange hybridized mutant with rabbit ears slapped a monkey arm to his dog-like backwards knee and gave a bright bout of crowing laughter.

“Now, now. Every bit helps.” Mikey approached.

“Sure does!” The bandit chirped.

“Not to put you in the spotlight, Todd’s going to do that anyway, but we have a special guest tonight.” Mikey turned to address you.

Your eyes lost focus at the middle bit of Mikey’s sentence.

Todd.

The man standing next to Mikey was Todd.

The man with the puppies.

The man who made the sunshine lemonade.

The man he went camping with on a yearly basis.

Who ran the Cuddly Cakes Puppy Rescue.

Who founded his own scout troop that regularly won awards.

He was the Spine-Breaking Bandit.

You turned to catch Hypno’s sleeve in a death grip.

Behind you Mikey was still going through his introduction.

“Tell me you were joking!?” You shouted at the magician.

Hypno blinked. “Which part?”

“That is not a Spine-Breaking Bandit!” You threw an accusatory finger at Todd.

Todd put a hand to his chest.

“That’s a-that’s a-!” You stuttered, not knowing what kind of mutant he was.

He was a fuzzy one.

He was a soft one.

“Capybara.” Todd offered.

“Capybara! Capybara?!” You turned to stare at him. “That’s the most friend shaped one!”

Todd giggled. “Aw shucks!”

“I thought you were honest with me!”

Draxum gave a single chuckle that he tried to cover up under a hardened exterior.

Poser.

“I was…” Hypno urged you to calm down.

“Yup!” Todd offered, walking over. “He’s not wrong, ya know!”

You gave an unhinged stare.

“It’s part of why I’m here today, silly!” Todd reached you and held out a hand. “I know better than anyone about the darkness that can grow inside of your heart!”

You shook his little claws.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things; I killed a lot of people.”

It seemed impossible staring down at this jolly fellow.

“I also decided that wasn’t what I wanted anymore…” Todd released you and you could tell he was addressing the room. “Physically, by mutating, I was given a new lease on life. I didn’t have to run from the police anymore. I could start fresh. I had a choice! So it happened after I broke into the zoo to snap the spine of that worker who’d made fun of my teeth earlier that day, sometimes it happens! Chances come when you least expect them!”

You gawked, stepping back to give him the floor.

“Friend!” Todd looked up at you. “Capybaras have quite the sweet reputation. Who’da thought? Not me! But it was through these fellas and myself that I realized nothing was permanent!” He rounded and everyone’s spirits seemed to raise. “You’ve all heard the story enough. I won’t bother y’all with the details again, you all know! The morals are the same!”

“Yeah!”

“We’re not just evil!”

“They’re just words!”

Todd smiled. “What I’ve done qualifies me to help. I know what it’s like. I saw what I was capable of. I learned I could choose to be kind, to be happy. To spread joy! How else could I stand before all of you?” He did a turn with his arms spread. “To understand is to have been there or learn by proxy…” With a glance, Todd nodded to Mikey who shot back a grin. “Which brings me to you…”

You tensed.

Your proxy wasn’t one who wanted a spotlight.

In fact, your proxy wasn’t supposed to be affiliated with any of this.

Your proxy wasn’t here.

“It’s all because of you…”

Could you stop him?

He was the Spine-Breaking Bandit.

There had been something he’d clearly left out of his transformation.

It very much sounded like he had still killed that zoo attendant.

“… that Hypno joined us!”

You paled before color struck you with a slap.

It seemed so obvious.

Not everything was about Donnie.

Wasn’t that why you were here?

Hypno chortled, bashful. “Oh, stop!”

You trailed after Todd as he approached the magician. “You know they also say Hippo’s are the deadliest land mammals!”

“What do they know!”

“Hypno would never!”

Hypno smiled at Todd and then you. “Thank you.”

“I really… didn’t… do…” You watched the faces look upon you with warm welcomes. “… anything.”

“No?” Todd spun around to give you his attention. “I don’t think that’s true, friend, but why don’t we listen and see!?”

“It all started when I was a boy…!” Hypno began and everyone took their seats. Watching the meeting, each person took their turn amongst the attentive group. Between short shares, Todd or Mikey would speak up and reaffirm or point out a note in someone’s story. Of the humans there were ex-cons or those wronged by the system. From the mutants they were either deemed evil by existence or had turned to crime out of necessity.

Even Draxum, who had served as a lunch person for several decades now, took a moment to share a moment where he had not killed someone who bumped into him at the grocery store.

They acknowledged kindness in that and you couldn’t help but think that there was.

You didn’t know, but it seemed clear Draxum was working through some long bred hatred.

It made you wonder how old he was.

What with his plague comment and all.

It was also painfully obvious that he was only there for Mikey.

His son meant the world to him.

It made you think that if he had succeeded in his ridiculous plan to raise warriors then it would have never panned out the way he thought.

Parenthood would have softened him more than it already had.

Nothing was so obvious.

As the group came to a close with words to work on, you mused over your partner.

Like Leo, you couldn’t imagine Donnie attending, but that didn’t mean either party was lost.

Each person handled themselves differently.

You were all trying to survive.

There was sure to be some actual darkness out there, but none of it seemed to be around you.

People were standing and you moved with the group for the sake of it.

Hypno ushered you with quick words saying he had to go as Warren was waiting, but he took the time to exchange numbers with you in a blur. Happy with the exchange, you shared a quick hug and the room soon emptied out. Todd was wrangling puppies and Mikey dismissed him saying he had clean-up. Thanks were passed for another week and a few slips were signed until it was just you, Mikey, and Draxum left.

“This would be done instantly with my vines.” Draxum complained, carrying a row of folded chairs.

“And I’m not in the mood to explain to the center why we busted the floor for a ninth time.” Mikey rolled his eyes.

You moved to close up a few chairs on instinct.

“You don’t have to do that!” Mikey called out. “What’dya think?”

You shut the single chair you had and held it to you. “Did you know what I’d get out of this?”

“No?” Mikey stopped with a too large stack that quaked as he thought the point over as if it was new to him.

Before he could come to a conclusion, there was a domino affect chair slide that took Mikey out with it.

Draxum folded a hand on his hip as if that proved a point.

“Fine!” Mikey bellowed before bringing up his hands. Within a blink his eyes swam in a sea of orange and you stumbled a bit as basal fear caught you. In an instant, chains shot out around the room and you scrambled back with a little noise. Not necessarily captured, you were encased in a n amalgamation of a laser grid.

Different than anything you’d seen, they moved in a sort of coordination and you settled realizing the chains were hooking through all the chairs. In a taut pull, they all folded up via gravity and then in a flick, they traveled in a cohesive clicking system until they were placed in a rack on the far side of the room.

“Happy?” Mikey’s power tapered off and he glared at his dad.

Draxum gave a satisfied nod and approached the snack table to grab some coffee from the newly fixed machine.

You stared after him as Mikey watched over.

“He’s impressed by you.”

“Doubt that.” You glanced at Mikey.

Mikey shrugged. “He is! Probably from you calling Todd out. He likes when humans don’t follow what he calls norms. Something about ones with fight in them.”

“I didn’t mean…” You shirked. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Mikey held his hands up with a sarcastic purse of his lip. “Please, telling someone they aren’t what they are at therapy? Totally cool and normal.”

You put your face in your hands.

“What did you get out of it?” Mikey asked, unwilling to pass forgiveness.

That seemed so very like him. “Something I was feeling about you all.”

“Us?... Wait, me?!”

You nodded out of your hold and let your arms fall to your sides. “You know when I first met you all I thought you were the villains.”

Draxum snorted into his mug.

Mikey shot him a dirty look before returning to you. “Cause Donnie lied to you!”

You smiled. “Just like your first text. You use his nickname.”

Mikey flushed on contact. “N-nickname? N-no! That-!”

“It’s okay.” You tapped his shoulder. “Well, it’s not. Even I wasn’t allowed to use it when I first met him, but I’m just saying, I get it.”

“In…” Mikey took a deep breath. “In almost every way I’ve accepted it. We’ll never be family. We aren’t.”

You nodded.

“But we are.” Mikey had a hollow finality to his voice that he sent to the empty room. “I’d never say it to his face.”

You gave a little upturn of your lips in understanding.

“You’re dodging my question.” He folded his arms.

“The one about you being villains or about what I thought of tonight?”

Mikey had to study you. “Both!”

“To the first, perspective, to the second… perspective. Same thing in different ways. It’s all about it, I hear.”

Mikey unfurled to give his own quirked grin. “Ain’t that something?”

“Quite.” Draxum walked up, leaving an empty refreshment table in his wake.

Not sure where the trash had gone and questioning if him being a goat meant he’d eaten everything and the tablecloth, you gawked at the man.

“Shall we add a guest to dinner?” Draxum made a show of bending his body to examine Mikey like he was below him.

The folded hands behind his back were rubbed with faint nerves.

Draxum was still trying.

He probably always would be.

“Yeah!” Mikey seemed none the wiser. “Y/N, wanna come eat with us? We do this after every meeting!”

“Um…”

Draxum rose back up and reviewed you benevolently.

“I think… I want to get back home to Donnie, if that’s okay?”

“Oh, sure!” Mikey acted as if he was waving you off, but at the last second, swung his body in so he could pretend to whisper secret information in your ear. “Good choice, foods never as good here. Now brunch, brunch is the meal ticket you want to get on.”

“Brunch is not available to you as of yet.” Draxum made a decree.

Mikey nodded in a solemn way that said he already knew. “It’s a whole thing.”

“You must prove worthy.” Draxum cracked his neck with a wicked smile.

“I’ll… try to get on the brunch ballot sometime then…” You glanced between the odd pair as Mikey bounced away.

“Text me when you get home?”

“Sure.” You nodded. “It was nice… meeting you like this. In a less kidnappy way.”

“Yeah!” The turtle chirped.

“You too.” You looked over Draxum with a grin of your own. “Minus the last part, obviously.”

Draxum only gave you a single nod.

“He likes you!” Mikey sang.

Draxum punted Mikey clean across the room with a single strike.

Mikey’s ring laughter at the act was the only thing that soothed you.

You also took it as your cue to leave.

You were never going to get used to that casual super-powered violence.

It spoke of family, but their strength meant it pushed dangerous limits.

It must have come with the territory.

What with them created to be living weapons.

Donnie was so easily tender you sometimes forgot what he was capable of.

He also wasn’t raised with brothers.

It was so strange to think that the cruelest amongst them was the softest.

You very much wanted to curl up in his arms.

Heading out into the dark night air, you decided it would be the first thing you’d do before unloading upon him this hell of a night.

Always shouting praise to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

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

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weird-bookworm · 1 year ago

Text

ᴇʟᴅᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ!ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ

HYUNG LINE MAKNAE LINE

a/n: part 2 of the abomination i posted 4 (?) weeks ago

pairing: elder brother!svt x reader

genre: headcanons, fluff, crack, comfort

word count: same as before, around 1050-ish

warnings: mentions of food, mention of fire, a couple curse words, mention of harassing (dw nothing srs), idk what can be a trigger help a girl out here 😭

ʟᴇᴇ ꜱᴇᴏᴋᴍɪɴ

LOUD™

(dolby? who's that? i only know dk 👍🏻)

coddles you with love

clingy

no concept of personal space

unexpectedly protective

your room is practically his now

puppy eyes at you for everything

as if he's the younger one and not you

randomly starts singing

*soul left your body* even though you've heard him do it your entire life

despises it when you're sad

gets adorably angry at whoever or whatever made you sad— just to see you giggle

innocent babie

(protecc him pls)

aka you're more dirty minded than he is

might be the elder but you're stuck taking care of him

elaborate skits in the middle of the night

you don't tell him but you enjoy them as much as he does

ᴋɪᴍ ᴍɪɴɢʏᴜ

puppy personified

practically a giant

you often wonder if he took your share of tall genes

25/8 teasing you about your height

"want help shorty?" annoying smirk

"i'm not short you bitch, you're tall" angry pout

*cue giggles*

picks you up randomly and scares you shitless

always ends up cooking for you though

y'all have a very playful relationship

affectionate insults are as plentiful as his clothes

a giant dork basically

gets sad when you're sad

envelops you in his arms and holds you as long as you need

so so easy to prank

and so annoying because he knows every girl you know has a crush on him

flirts with your friends to annoy you

likes to cuddle

wakes up in your room 5 days out of 7

roleplays as your blanket and refuses to move

xᴜ ᴍɪɴɢʜᴀᴏ

you're his princess

the apple of his eye

he's very very soft for you

but you're the person he's fights with the most

Savage™

The sassy siblings ✨

y'all are more twins than anything

similar fashion styles

both martial artists

both self-assured

and really good looking 👀

pretty much a package deal atp

your friends are his friends, and his are yours

you're his forever priority

forces you to meditate lol

as in wakes you up early every morning and makes you sit and meditate with him

will not let you go back to sleep

safe to say he's the only person who's seen your whiny side

ʙᴏᴏ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢᴋᴡᴀɴ

dramatic

bickering

a lot of it

even bickers with your best friend 💀

does favours for you unprompted

"stop looking at me like that, i did it out of the goodness of my heart and this is the thanks i get, hmph"

*dramatically gets mad*

while you're there looking at him like •_• -_- •_•

later uses it as leverage

"remember that one time i brought you a glass of water? you owe me!" "i didn't aSK YOU TO DO IT!!"

embodiment of getting second hand embarrassment

no kidding, pretends he doesn't know you at anything remotely embarrassing you do

✨MaTeRiAl GwOrL✨

hallabong full of sass

only and only He can bully you

you have a problem? hold his americano, he's ready to throw hands

squishy lil tangerine

ᴄʜᴡᴇ ʜᴀɴꜱᴏʟ

chill asf

takes you to movies every weekend

sends you random songs he likes or songs that remind him of you

unbothered king

comfortable silences

hang outs include not speaking and listening to music

while chilling like starfishes on the floor and staring at the ceiling

strange lil guy

except you definitely take after him

down to the style of walking

bad dad jokes

never understands the good ones 💀

occasionally loud enough to rouse the entire neighbourhood

cluelessly cute

does silly things when you're sad

like sit upside down on the sofa

or just wear one of his out-of-this-world 'outfits'

he's secretly offended you're laughing but at least mission accomplished?

ʟᴇᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴ

the only remotely normal one

often complains that you're weird

and he's lucky that he got the better genes

constant fights over who looks better

often drags you to dance with him

whines for you to cook for him

even though his cooking is perfectly fine

once felt generous and decided to help you make dinner in high school

your parents came back home to smoke in the house and the fire alarm going off

don't think he doesn't notice you going soft when he laughs

often acts like the most typical 'oppa'

then both of you cringe and laugh together

sneaks out with you every friday

weirdly mature when the situation calls for it

once punched a guy in the face because he thought he was harassing you

had to awkwardly apologise because that wasn't the case. at all.

very very common and very very petty fights

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roleplayhonestybox · 1 month ago

Note

This is probably the most serious confession I've ever made on here....

When I was 16-19, I roleplayed on Amino. It's where I learned how to roleplay and where I learned certain Rp etiquette that I still use. It had its issues, but it was fun. When I was turning 17, I met this guy(We'll call him Joe) who was the same age.

We roleplayed in this specific fandom and became super close. We started dating but broke up when I turned 18. But still remained friends. I left amino, got into an IRL relationship, and got married.

Two months ago, I reconnected with Joe, and we did an RP together. That RP fizzled out into him, telling me he would always love me. About how much he cared about me and missed me. It was strange because he knew I had a husband now, I told him that when we were catching up before the RP.

But then he crosses a line. He says, and I quote, "When He dies in war, I'll be there for you.". My husband is in the military, and I didn't tell him that. On my IG, main Tumblr and Discord(all places that Joe follows me), I don't talk about being a military wife, nor do I have photos of my husband in uniform. Meaning he went to my husband's account from mine, or he was just saying shit....either way, I blocked him for that comment. I was extremely uncomfortable and didn't like how this man was banking on my husband to die.

You'd think that would be the end of it? It wasn't.

When I was dating Joe, I was a dumb teen who gave him my address and paypal. He would send me gifts off Amazon and pay for little things. I also spotted him money and gave him gifts. It was nice at the time. I didn't think Joe would keep and then later use this information to harass me into unblocking him. I no longer live at my childhood home, but my grandmother and younger sister did when this started.

My grandmother called me almost every single day about gifts being sent to that house. Teddy bears, kitchen gadges, video games, art supplies. Some of them had little gift notes where he would plead for forgiveness. He constantly sent me money on PayPal with messages, too. When that happened, He was much more angry and threatening.

I have no clue if he's still sending packages to my childhood home. My grandmother and sister moved out because we were all concerned. My uncles went to the police to file a report, and I attempted to do the same. Both times, We were ignored. The paypal payments stopped, though.

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moenxs · 2 months ago

Note

I hope you feel better! What sort of things do you feel are rampant in the rpc? Do you think they are things that are easy to improve?

oooh boy now THIS is definitely going under a read more because the yapping i'm about to do....

Let me start off by saying a lot of things "wrong" with the rpc are easy to improve as a whole but much harder to improve individually since really a lot of this comes down to individuals and a "vocal minority" in a sense.

I think there's a lot of underlying elitism as a whole in the rpc whether its purposeful or just a byproduct of existing on this site. And a lot of this also results in a very "cliquey" vibe that stretches across every fandom. Now I'm not saying that having a friend group that you tend to prioritize a bit is bad, we all do that, i mean going out of your way to exclude people that try to extend a conversation of interacting, especially if you happen to be mutuals with them.

And I get that OOC interactions can be a little rough especially when social interactions can be hard for people, but if that's the case, then why be mutuals with someone if you're either not going to reach out first, OR interact with them at all if THEY reach out first? Idk that whole thing is just frustrating to me and I think that it's something that definitely needs to be improved on as a whole.

This next thing is just a little more personal and to some people i might sound like I'm whining but it's genuinely an issue with roleplay as a whole and not really just on tumblr.

The topic of a strange aversion to female characters, and OCs. And particularly female OCs. I talked about this with a mutual briefly earlier and they helped me feel a little better about speaking up on this. To be blunt, it still sucks to be an OC writer on tumblr, especially if it happens to be a female OC (don't even get me started on female CANONS though lmao that's a whole other convo-) and especially if you're not really "popular" within the rpc already.

I quite literally have one of my blogs on a momentary hiatus because he was getting a little too much attention. Meanwhile it was nearly crickets here at one point, and I won't lie it does hurt quite a bit. But I'm not going to blame everyone entirely, people have their preferences and that's understandable.

As someone who is a cis woman, i started out on tumblr writing female OCs, and slowly when i found myself getting more comfortable writing male OCs I also found myself getting more consistent interactions. It felt like people were actually getting excited to write with me. And younger me was loving it! I didn't even realize anything was weird as I eventually transitioned over to just writing male OCs entirely for a time. Female OCs still existed on my blog but they were collecting dust.

It wasn't until recently (post 2020 ish) that i really dived back into my female characters and it was around that that I had started to notice the trend as well. I dedicated myself to female OCs in particular and I noticed a pretty steep decline in interactions as a whole. Yea, maybe you can say it was a coincidence until I started writing a male OC again and things steadily increased once again.

Also, I dearly love interacting with other people's OCs, wholeheartedly so. But who wouldn't want to interact with a canon character as well? Other OC writers are extremely welcoming, I've rarely found someone that actively writes OCs more often than not that's not sweet as can be (there are exceptions but i won't get into that).

I've noticed though that (not all obviously but it's definitely a chunk) a decent bit of the elitism that I mentioned before comes from these canon writers. The ones that are "popular" and are actually well known in the space, while most can be just as nice, there's that "vocal minority" that can easily leave quite a bad taste in your mouth.

Like i said, it's a pretty vocal minority. Most if not all of my mutuals that write canons are absolutely not in this category. But still there are some that-

this is going to sound so bad but i promise it's not it's just that i cannot find a better way to word this-

Make me as an OC writer, idk, feel lesser? Like if i'm not one of their close friends that also happens to write an OC it feels more like it's simply an obligation to try and write with me than it is a mutual "excitement" i guess.

I don't know, it's just that even with some mutuals, there's a lack of mutuality and sometimes it makes me wonder why we're even mutuals. Maybe that's just a bit of insecurity talking but honestly at this point it's just incredibly frustrating than it is disheartening anymore.

Like, I do not care how slow you are as a writer, I would just be happy with some sort of reciprocation OOC???? I don't know if that sounds entitled, I know people have busy lives but to see people boasting about ships or plots that theyve been talking about with other people when I've been trying actively to plot with them or even just converse with them is also now more frustrating than disheartening these days lol.

ANYWAYS HAHA

yea that sure was a yap session and a half, I don't know how many of you will make it to this point but if you did thank you so much for hearing me out and hopefully I didn't really offend anyone that badly at any point LMAO

#ʚ♡ɞ 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 ━ ooc.#cw vent #cw negative #I'll tag this one as negative too since it kinda is at some points lol

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 1 year ago

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Thank you so much for the tag, my friend--you know I appreciate every chance I can get to promo my work!

So, five favorites? Honestly, it's hard to choose, as most of my work remains WIPs that are currently languishing for updates. I'm going to exclude my one-shots to narrow down the field - and base this list on both the story and the quality of the writing. Hoping that they might get a little bit of love and some new readers!

Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight - Stephen Strange x OFC. Slow burn romance, older man/younger woman, mentor/student, friends-to-lovers. Pre-Infinity War. Contains Mature Content. WIP, currently 19 chapters.

A Khan By Any Other Name - Khan Noonien Singh x OFC. Adventure, danger, angst, romance. Pre-Star Trek Into Darkness. Contains Mature Content. WIP, currently 12 chapters.

The Secret of Salvation - Major Jamie Stewart x OFC. War Horse AU. WW I. Angst, prisoner of war, romance. Contains Mature Content. WIP, currently 5 chapters.

The One That Got Away - Benedict Cumberbatch AU, where he is primarily a stage Actor with some movie/television appearances. Benedict Cumberbatch x OFC. Takes place during a production of The Taming of the Shrew. Castmates to friends to falling in love, slow burn, jealousy, lots of angst. WIP, currently 18 chapters.

Scarlett and the Professor - Tumblr exclusive. An original, erotic, paranormal romance, based on a discontinued roleplay. All original characters. Takes place on an unnamed Caribbean island. Older man/younger woman, professor/student, supernatural elements bringing them together, romance, angst, forbidden desires, light kinks with foreshadowing of darker kinks. Contains Mature Content. WIP, currently 32 chapters, plus two one-shots.

moodboards under cut

(related works: Lady in Red, Though There Be Pain Love Still Endures)

Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight

Doctor Stephen Strange's life has settled into a fulfilling pattern; even as Master of the New York Sanctum, he continues his studies in the mystic arts, self-training with the library that the Ancient One amassed in her years as Sorcerer Supreme. An old alliance forged by the Ancient One brings an unexpected request to him, and he is duty bound to fulfill it. Along the way he meets with some pleasant surprises--and discovers that his heart is not immune to the effects of the gentlest sorts of magic.

moodboard by @strangelock221b

Seraphina DiPietro is wise in the ways of the world; she has to be, as she travels the California coast as a torch singer in pubs, bars and nightclubs. She knows how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble--most of the time. When trouble comes, it's usually because her kind heart overrides her common sense. Stopping to check on a handsome stranger, stranded roadside in the Mojave Desert, her curiosity is piqued as much by the classic, mint-looking Mustang, as by the driver--a tall, dark mysterious drink of water, whom she quickly learns is so much more than what he appears.

moodboard by @mel-loves-all

Major Jamie Stewart is a survivor--but sometimes he just needs to escape. The guilt, the pain, the despair; his bitter fall due to folly and hubris. It helps to survive if one has a sanctuary to turn to, a dream to hold onto. A vision of a day--and a woman--that might grant him the salvation he desperately craves.

bookcover for The One That Got Away created by @onebuttscratcher

An actress making her name for herself on the London stage, Virgilia (Vicki) Gordon vows not to follow her usual pattern: falling in love with her leading man. The work comes first and foremost--or so she plans. She never expects to develop feelings for her co-star in "The Taming of the Shrew", but with his stellar talent matched by his charm, kindness and intellect, Vicki learns all too soon that, despite one's best intentions, the heart goes where it will. Still, all might be well--but he is far from free enough to return her affections.

moodboard by @strangelock221b

Romance & Passion. Mystery & ties to the Supernatural. Lust & Erotica. NSFW material, so be forewarned. A young Scottish woman of ancient Selkie blood finds herself irresistibly drawn to her dashing British professor, with his own mysterious ties to the Sea. A serial womanizer who believes his inner darkness makes him unredeemable, he finds what seems an uncorruptable innocence in the love she freely offers--eventually coming to wonder if her light might be enough to save him from his demons.

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aubins · 3 months ago

Text

TOA Anniversary Munday

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: darcy, but i also go by qiu!

Pronouns: they/he

Birthday (no year): january 9th

Where are you from? What is your time zone? sea & gmt+8

How long is your roleplay experience? god who knows HAHA not me i fear

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? .........kik..........and then amino when i really got into it a bit more lmfao

How were you introduced to TOA? through the heart & soul ad on twitter!

Do you have any pets? unfortunately not i must live vicariously through family & friends

What is your favorite time of year and why? i do love the -ber months generally. it's nice to have cooler weather as someone who lives in a tropical country though it's not by much these days i fear

What is your IRL occupation? i'm a full-time university student atm studying psychology!

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? writing of course but for less obvious answers: piano, photography, badminton, archery, history, mathematics, languages, etc etc i like learning basically haha

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? 13 sentinels, somnium files, life is strange, genshin impact, honkai: star rail, zenless zone zero, pokemon. prosekai sometimes. and i love love the ace attorney series so much miles edgeworth among us is the funniest shit i've ever seen

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: fairy type! and it's both mimikyu & ditto really i couldn't pick but i think i said ditto last year so i will say mimikyu this year haha

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! i used to do international math competitions when i was younger! haven't done since the pandemic but they were good fun i do love math & competition haha so put them together i'm bound to enjoy myself

How did you get into Fire Emblem? my brother bought fe3h & i decided to play it too. i simply never made my way out of that rabbit hole

What Fire Emblem games have you played? fe11, fe12, fe16 (+ hopes), & fe17 + i've watched playthroughs of tellius & sov! nothing much different from last year except i've since watched a playthrough of awakening as well. still haven't finished my actual awakening playthrough but one day...

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: i said fe3h for my first last year but i think it might have actually been heroes now that i'm really thinking about it LOL not seriously in the slightest though i'm p sure i dropped it after the first few days until i properly got into fire emblem. don't have much of a favorite but i enjoy 3hopes purely because musou gameplay tickles a very specific part of my brain

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! yuri, alear, est, shez, and lucina

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! yuri. to no one's suprise least of all my own but also the whole ashen wolves house really. you could say i really like those guys in particular

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 nope

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Three Houses: claude & yuri- Engage: gave the pact ring to veyle my first playthrough then reset it after. honestly i don't know though maybe gregory or timerra

Favorite Fire Emblem class? i like mage cannoneer. funny guys

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? dancer except i play you a silly tune on my keyboard. high speed & dexterity and ok magic stats then everything else is probably dogshit LMFAO

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? fear the deer!!!

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? - Boons: sword, reason - Banes: axes, faith, heavy armor - Budding Talent: bow

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? solm is my favorite but i'd probably want to live in firene

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔 separate letters

Current TOA muses: just this guy right here

Past TOA muses? marianne, caeda, est, kvasir, clarisse, & timerra! if there's been anyone else i'm very sorry to have forgotten you haha

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? miss marianne von edmund :softsmile: anyway probably not & she's in good hands now besides

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? i'm sure i do but i wouldn't be able to name it myself haha but i like to think i tend to have some kind of variety in character archetypes and tropes i enjoy writing

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? if i like them enough to put in the effort i could write most anyone i think

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? anything that significantly alters the relationship between two characters. even better if it's for the worse really i do enjoy antagonistic relationships. but yeah i loooove developing relationships between muses. especially with a muse that barely trusts anyone besides themself. yuri never does what i want them anyway to do so it's great for me, really

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? i would really love to write yuri during their time as a student at the officers academy. or an au where they are a student at the officers academy in present time. i'd like to explore their role as count rowe's “son�� more in depth one day as one of if not their longest lasting identity (excluding their actual one obviously LOL). less specific but i just love aus in general i would love to do more aus

Favorite TOA-related memories? est & sirius getting their attacks redirected at one another and whiffing all of them always makes me laugh. the harmony lance phalanx strats were also funny i do think fondly of that arena. happyland was really fun though one of my favorite events so far for sure :] i blow a kiss to north island yuri's home away from home & east island week 4

Present or past tense? present tense is my general go to for roleplay but i don't mind either or

Normal size text, small text, no preference? small text is easier for me to parse personally but i don't have any preference from my partners

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 not so much delusions as they are old muses but i do mourn that i never quite got kvasir & timerra off the ground as much as i'd have liked to. if i ever find the time i'd love to revisit both one day. shez is also a constant plague upon my mind i just love a purple guy what can i say

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖　﹙　clever as the devil & twice as pretty .　—ooc.　﹚#cute little time capsule :] looking back on last year's like damn don't remember writing any of this LMFAO #if i missed answering a question it's the middle of the night cut me some slack haha

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vinsmokewife · 1 year ago

Text

Looking Back

Day Two of (a very zosan centric) Kinktober - Roleplaying.

Zoro doesn't often look back to the days where he was nothing but a pirate hunter. But, Sanji gives him an oppertunity to think about it. warning: contains a consensual non consensual blowjob

Zoro had a notorious reputation as being a pirate hunter. These days, Zoro is more associated with being part of the straw hat crew but there was a time where Zoro was mostly known as a bounty hunter. Someone who collected bounties across the board of some of the nastiest pirates. There was a time where that was Zoro’s reputation and if it weren’t for Luffy coming in when he did, that would probably have been what he would have amounted to, and he would not have gotten closer to his dream of becoming the greatest swordsman in the world.

There’s no point of looking back into what ifs and what nots. Zoro moved forward and changed with the times. There was no one he would rather have fought with other than his Captain. There was nowhere else he’d rather be than with the Straw Hats heading towards the greatest treasure in the pirate kingdom. There was no other sous chef he would rather be bickering with constantly than Sanji. That was the hard and fast truth of the manner.

There were...sometimes opportunities to reflect on such manners and this was one of them. Sanji and his relationship were... interesting. Always tittering the line between lovers and friends. They did things that friends don’t do but they didn’t consider themselves lovers either.

It was one of those things where they never came close to either. What did they mean to each other? Other than a way to fill a need while on the sea (and sometimes on land...when the moment called for it at least)

Sanji would make requests on things they could do. Zoro for the most part was rather in different although had his own requests from time to time. This was one of those times where he made his request. A chance to think about more simpler times and younger days not that Zoro lived in nostalgia for those times anyway. It was just that sometimes Zoro had a need to fill, and he wanted to do one thing.

He wanted to play the pirate hunter once again and he wanted to catch Sanji like he was prey.

This had been very different to the normal kind of things they were into in a few ways. They never really roleplayed. They were themselves most of the time. Bickering and angry at each other even when the green haired swordsman was balls deep inside of Sanji. It was hard for him to be anything other than himself. So, roleplaying was brand new. They really couldn’t be on the ship either. It would feel inauthentic. Why would the pirate hunter be on the ship with him? It just would have felt really strange.

So, they had to do this when they were back on an island which they were very shortly.

Sanji was hardly like any of the pirates that he had captured in the past. Sanji didn’t hold himself like other pirates did so it felt different but then again, Zoro wasn’t the same man that he was before.

Which made this very interesting.

With a shove, Zoro held Sanji by the collar of his suit. An action that had clearly bothered Sanji as he didn’t like when Zoro was careless with his suits when they did things like this. So, Sanji shot him an absolute look of disgust that was authentic.

“You were easier than I thought to capture,” Zoro’s voice was low, threatening as he held the cook’s suit jacket. He could tell that Sanji wanted to yell at him for crinkling the suit, but he really didn’t care at this moment. Already, the thought of this scenario had Zoro hard underneath all his clothing. Zoro kept an intense stare on Sanji as he watched his face. Not that he would say, he was looking for signs of discomfort on Sanji’s face. Sanji had agreed to do this type of play, but Zoro ultimately had the responsibility to him to make sure he was okay as much as he bickered and fought with him. He wouldn’t be a responsible dom otherwise.

“I bet you think you’re real clever...evading me for so long,” Zoro’s words purposely drawn out as he pressed Sanji further against the wall. Zoro looked at him, tilting his head with a small smirk on his face. It was moments like these he appreciated how pretty Sanji was. How the blonde seemed to always look like the perfect prey almost every time they did something like this which made Zoro want him even more.

“It’s a real shame though,” Zoro suddenly let go of Sanji’s jacket but before Sanji could do anything about it Zoro grabbed his face and roughly jerked it from side to side, “It’s a shame your worth such a pretty penny because you’re a real pretty boy...”

He did it a few more times. Sanji still hadn’t said anything but had an intense look of anger and hatred on his face. Zoro could almost swear that this was real by the look on Sanji’s face.

Zoro chucked doing it a few more times, “I can think of other things I would rather have you doing...” He trailed off, a thumb trailing over Sanji’s soft lips, trying to push through to see his warm wet mouth. All Zoro wanted right now was to have Sanji choke on his cock. To grab that blonde hair and use his throat as a fleshlight. Zoro had gone over this with Sanji. Sanji had previously agreed but a safe word was decided before hand to make sure things went smoothly.

“What do you say...hmm?”

It was the first time Sanji decided to do something. What Sanji did was spat in Zoro’s face. It... surprised Zoro who momentarily whiped his head to the side. Only Sanji would take such an opportunity to spit in his face.

“Eat shit,” The blonde spat at him.

Zoro looked back at Sanji and instead of being totally pissed off (and Sanji would definitely get it afterwards for that) Zoro just stared at him darkly. They knew exactly how this was going to go and both men were more than excited for it.

“Wrong choice,”

Suddenly, Zoro whipped his hand around to roughly grab at Sanji’s blonde locks only to force him onto the ground. Sanji put up a fight and a pretty good one but ultimately, as this was supposed to go, Zoro won the fight at the end of the day. Zoro managed to force Sanji onto his knees with a harsh grip of his hair. Oh, how he loved seeing the cook on his knees like this. Especially in earlier times watching him suck his cock so eagerly. This time it was play pretend that he didn’t want to suck his cock when he knew deep down that Sanji was likely craving the mouth fuck he was going to receive.

“Open your fucking mouth,” Zoro grunted out as his free hand fiddled with getting his cock out of his trousers. Zoro looked as Sanji, again, refused a command. Zoro’s large cock sprang out of his trousers, only time and patience for him to pull them a little down.

Watching Sanji refuse only made Zoro want to ruin his pretty mouth more. Grabbing Sanji’s jaw and forcing his mouth open, “I said fucking open your mouth,”

In a move with the intention of humiliating the cook, Zoro slapped his cock rather crudely on the cook’s cheek. A move which he knew would normally get an annoyed scowl out of Sanji and it did. It got a very annoyed scowl out of Sanji, but it got him to open his mouth with Zoro took the opportunity to shove his cock into his throat.

“Hmph!?”

Without time to adjust to Zoro’s rather…large size, Sanji gagged around the cock in his mouth which made Zoro groan with delight. Ge loved watching Sanji choke around his cock. As much as he loved watching him work his cock gracefully, Zoro also loved to watch Sanji struggle to fit his size into his mouth. It gives him some around of pride when it did. So, Zoro held his cock in the blonde’s throat as he holds him down.

“That’s it…fuck…”

Zorro pulled his hips back before he starts to harshly fuck the cooks throat. Pulling his large cock back only to shove it down his throat again in the next moment. Zoro enjoyed this way too much. Having Sanji so helpless under his touch while he fucked his throat with wild abandon. Zoro, every now and then, would look down and see if Sanji was still breathing. He was fine. Just taking it with tears streaming down his face but clearly by looking at his trousers, very fucking aroused which Zoro picked up on immediately.

“You like having your mouth used, you slut,” He spat harshly which surprised Sanji by the looks of things, but he could feel the moan that left the man on his knees. This only spurred Zoro to continue on, “Yeah…you like being treated like a little whore,”

“Hmm…” It sounded like an answer, but Zoro didn’t really care. Not when he was so close to spilling down the blonde's throat. He continued to fuck with wild abandon until he could feel his own pace begin to splutter. Zoro grabbed the back of Sanji’s hair and pushed himself down his throat before spilling himself in his throat. Immediately pulling back as to not suffocate the poor guy, Sanji pulled back and coughed which Zoro stood back.

Neither said anything while Sanji coughed but after he did, he looked at Zoro with one of his annoyed looks.

“If you fucking hit me with your cock again, I will RAM my foot down your throat,”

This almost brought a laugh out of Zoro who shook his head.

“You enjoyed it. It’s obvious, by the way,” Gesturing that Sanji was tenting badly in his pants at the minute. Sanji narrowed his eyes before wiping his mouth. The smallest bit of cum was on the blonde’s perfect lips which Zoro was getting hard all over again for. He loved when Sanji looked like a slut; with cum on him or looking fucked out... it was one of his favourite things.

“Well, you got your wish. Do you want to help me out here at least,” Not hiding the fact that he was hard, but Zoro merely grabbed Sanji by one of his wrists.

“Very well…” He said, grabbing Sanji again to pull him up so he could bring him to the bed. This time, he was himself...and not the man he was before. He lived in peace knowing that.

#one piece zosan #zosan fanfic #zoro x sanji #zosan #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #kinktober 2023

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lovelychubbygirl · 5 months ago

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Hey so um ! have a quick question Idk if this whole married guy thing is some kind of roleplay but if it isn't and it's real then let me ask u how u would feel when u grow up and get married with kids then find out that ur husband's been fantasising about another woman not to mention a much younger one ? And ur not in wrong bcoz basically the guys r asking u if u like it or not but honestly u shouldn't encourage them . U might be ruining someone's life just for ur kinks .I mean | also have lots of strange kinks and i LOVE older guys but ruining another woman's life?

I thought this question might come up at some point.

For me at least it’s all fantasy, I don’t think I could ever sleep with an actual married man which I think I have posted about.

And I’ve thought about my own behaviour on here for a while and while I know I’m in the wrong because like you said I’m encouraging that behaviour, but I’m just a blip on the radar to them yk?

Also it has happened to me, should that change my actions here? Yes. But here I am regardless.

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cloud-knights · 4 months ago

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❝ — Blistering Frost Upon a Iron Sword . . ❞

❄️ . Welcome one and all to my new and improved Yanqing blog! This blog will now heavily influenced by fanon and headcanons but there will be canon aspects that do still contribute to Yanqing’s development.

❄️ . As I now begin to develop a new roleplaying and writing style, id like to try out that style with complex and engaging stories and interactions between two characters. Playable muses or original characters, I truly don’t mind!

❄️ . I am also going to aging Yanqing down to 15, I do still perceive him with a sort of childish attitude and actions towards certain situations. So I believe it would be appropriate for him to make him a younger teenager.

❄️ . Ships are allowed! But please let them remain in the age range,, (14-16). Anything below and above those ages will be platonic interactions between two characters.

❄️ . I’m not picky with roleplays , just nothing strange please. There’s tons of weird people here, and if your one of them just dni, it makes it easier on me and you.

Things to know about Yanqing ;

He is pansexual, and goes by he/him pronouns, but there are certain days where he wishes to go by another set of pronouns ( divine will notify you )

He zones out quite a lot, he’ll just stare out into space. Does that quite a lot when he’s being scolded or lectured about Lan knows what.

He has Misha say good night to all of his swords, but he’s more lenient with them. With anyone else, if they mess up a swords name they start over.

He’s creepy. If something he doesn’t want has to happen, he will hang from the ceiling upside like a spider and just stare at you.

He’s compared to a feline and multiple birds, he doesn’t know why. He just takes the comparisons as compliments.

loves to fuck with Kai(@feathers-and-song), he put a snake in one of his shoes earlier and harassed him with a 6 foot plushie until he took it.

#introductory post #yanqing #yanqing headcanons #Rules #Dni criteria

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roamingtigress · 1 year ago

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My very work in progress Vandermatthews Headcanon

Excerpts with asterisk taken from The Misadventures of Hosea and The Mustached Idiot; the rest have yet not been added to my fic

They have a nightly bedtime reading; they'll discuss what's going on in each chapter and will read paragraphs to each other; sometimes this on well into late night*

Neither of them can tolerate cold well, particularly Hosea, and a fire on every night; Dutch will spoon him to further keep him warm (I've made mentions of them not tolerating the cold as well as they did when they were younger but didn't touch too much onto them)

Dutch is very ticklish! Particularly his ribs/belly/waist, and Hosea will tickle him in public (or 'threaten' to) when he flirts in public or is being moody or being a general PiTA. He does his stoic face but eventually, he'll crumble. Unfortunately for him, Hosea isn't so much (I realize I'm sharing trade secrets here, no regrets, do what you want with them, mwah <3) * Since their bed was made only for one person, they are 'forced' to lay on top of each other (and can also be found lying by the bonfire), usually, Hosea lays on Dutch but doesn't always go that way*

Wolves wait to pounce the moment Dutch steps out of camp because of their attraction to his hair pomade, and the 30 pieces of beef, 10 fish, 20 squirrels stuffed in his pockets because he doesn't have a satchel.*

Reverend Swanson got them married

Hosea loves his back being rubbed, sides massaged, waist being held in those hold-you-close hugs and shoulders rubbed (this whole area will get him to melt like butter) and has a spot between his ear and jawline that when touched, gets him to his happy spot, but he's a happy chappy wherever Dutch touches him * (but I need to touch upon this more, pardon the pun!)

Dutch loves chest rubs, belly rubs, and there's a spot on his right hip that makes him squirm; he also loves to have his jaw/chin scratched and especially that cleft of his chin that he used to feel self-conscious about; scritching him here will elicit big manly little purry sounds from him * (though I have yet to get into the chin/jaw scritches in my story; it's in my head waiting to get out); he also likes to have his mustache/soul patch touched

They love a bit of roleplay; they'll create scenarios where they'll be acting out their first (a senario they've had involved Hosea being a bartender and Dutch is seeking a job as a musician there)

They take turns in deciding on a quiet place to read. Heartlands Overflow was their latest spot. They'll also do a spot of readin' at the camp, too).

Hosea can't stomach warm beer, Dutch will drink it cold or warm *

Dutch is the RDO equivalent of Jane Goodall; he'll happily socialize with other people's characters, and will also observe their goings-on (in a quiet spot if a quiet spot exists L) among them and reports on what he sees back at camp to get a better understanding of this strange world *

Dutch's favourite feature on Hosea is his eyes, hands and fingers and he tries to make eye contact with him as much as possible; he loves to hold and kiss his hands, and of course, be touched with them as much as possible; he also cannot leave his chest alone (so that's another favourite) and has a thing about hearing his heartbeat at night on those nights he lays on top of him, so maybe it's his heart that is his #1 <3 (but imo the whole man is his favourite part) * (but needs to be stated more!)

Among Hosea's favourite features on Dutch? His nose; he loves grabbing it, and kissing it, as well as his silly waist and the slight belly he's gotten from being looked after so well by him, and of cannot resist those locks that he can't resist touching in each chapter * (always needs to be stated more)

Dutch's favourite role is the Bounty Role because of the PEW PEW that's often involved but tied with Moonshine; he loves dancing like a fool and playing with the band, and the excitement of running 'shine like a proper degenerate; also loves the excitement of what the Trader Role can bring on hose trading run and now gets along with Cripps (they were ornery and antagonistic at the start until they learned they'll have mutual benefits from working with each other * (sort of touched on but needs to be touched on more);

Hosea's favourite role is the Collector role; it's generally the least problematic role between them both (and prob the most old-man-friendly activity) and they have an extensive selection of things they picked up (Hosea has issues with giving up the items they've collected); they also turn Collecting into a date and often will dress up more for this role than the others * (I need to write a chapter though of that dating!)

Hosea's favourite horse is his Turkoman stallion, Silver Dollar, but he has a bit of a fondness for Morgans, Standardbreds (particularly buckskin) and Belgian Drafts and will steal one if given the opportunity

Dutch's favourite is either Legend the dun Mustang mare, or Sienna the black Kladruber mare, or (sorry The Count but you're so little :D) or Winner Bells the black Standardbred mare who is a bit overprotective and known to kick friendly folk (and not so friendly folk)

Whenever Hosea is really angry at Dutch (which doesn't happen too often and when he does he doesn't stay mad at him for long); Dutch gives him a wide berth (might be canon?), he's which is so difficult because he's clingy and needy but will not cross that invisible barrier (I want to write a chapter on this but trying to think of something that would create this scenario; there will be of course a cavity-inducing reunion)

Dutch loves kissing Hosea in public; doesn't matter if it's in Smith's Saloon or wherever he'll just give that old man a big ol smooch on the lips (Hosea secretly loves it though he'll at times act embarrassed but doesn't exactly push away from it) *

Dutch is big into using the star/sun/moon as directional compasses; but doesn't always follow a waypoint; it seems to be in his coding but in my head he's just pigheaded about them and views them as a mere suggestion, which has gotten him, Hosea and his boys into trouble *

Hosea is sometimes exasperated by his husband's neediness and clinginess and needs to reassure him when he does need to get some breathing space; he respects this and will go off on little misadventures with their sons or on his own, often winding up in some sort of trouble, often Valentine with his study subjects and buddies (I often don't bring Hosea around big groups of people esp in Valentine because of the potential of an incident but I have a feeling he's fine with that), but always comes back and gives that idiot a big ol cuddle when he comes back

Hosea CANNOT resist his husband's little gestures of appeasement; a hand squeeze, a kiss of his hand, tugging at his curls, and . . . Puppy eyes, which he weaponizes *

Hosea loves it when Dutch grabs his ass but always 'shoos' him and acts annoyed

Dutch can't get enough ass grab and will pout if he doesn't get another squeeze

Nose boops are a daily occurrence, including nose-to-boops which sometimes occasionally result in a bloody nose but are a bit safer than forehead boops which have more than occasion left Hosea seeing stars

They really do do it on Fridays, for the most part (I keep them too busy to have too much intimate time, my bad)

'Sea doesn't go on every bounty hunt (he takes this time to Collector inventory, general inventory, get some personal space (difficult to obtain at times) and other odds and ends) but does go on every Collector, Trading and Moonshine run

The boys don't visit Harriet often because someone not name Hosea keeps getting sprayed by her

Both will gift each other with random, sometimes useless things; like I don't think Hosea really needs a donkey but Dutch will get him one anyway for a laugh and Hose would so say he doesn't need three asses (;D) (meaningful gifts are given aplenty too)

Dutch doesn't like to be violent against other people's kids (NPCs that comment on his appearance though . . . ) even when they bully him because he doesn't want to disrupt his relation with these strange characters; he's honestly too friendly with them and he'll tip his hat to the ladies and blow kisses to the guys (fuelling jealousy in Hosea)

One of those useless things? 'Sea has ordered an expensive mirror from France (that isn't too practical out on the range but there you go) because he gets a kick out of watching his hubby check himself out and then acting like he wasn't checking himself out in the mirror)

Hosea has a dry sense of humour *

Dutch will laugh at his own jokes

They both will feed each other bits of food on a fork

Dutch is the one who usually spoons Hosea but 'Sea will also spoon him to shake things up

Nicknames? Hosea nicknames Dutch his Beautiful Idiot, the Mustached idiot (and just idiot), Babygirl, Duchess; Dutch calls Hosea 'Sea in addition to Old Girl * (he also calls him Silver Fox but have yet to include that in my fic; I'm thinking of more nicknames for him too!)

Dutch despises rain but Hosea will take this time to wait it out with him and often plays with hair and writes in his journal during these moments

Both are rather useless at the cowboy thing; one gets dragged through the mud, and the other will go on a slaughter spree for being bumped. Cripps will now and then put them up at a local hotel to give them some more privacy (and to spare him hearing things)

They are of course both deeply affectionate towards each other; kisses, hugs, cuddles, and touches aplenty are given to each other (they touch each other a lot in my story but I want to go deeper into what touch and where affects them both; for examples touches to the vulnerable regions symbolize trust)

#rdr2 #read dead redemption 2 #rdr2 headcanons #red dead fanfiction #vandermatthews #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde #hosea x dutch #dutch x hosea #red dead online #rdo #read dead redemption II

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kaseyskat · 1 year ago

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had some thoughts about dood (yes ive settled on that spelling i like it) and missing scenes and stuff anthony would never do because he doesn't like roleplaying with himself and i very hastily wrote them our for your pleasure. enjoy!

It happens so fast.

Sparrow doesn’t even comprehend… everything that is going on. The Doodler talks in a voice that he recognizes from childhood dreams, and the children are talking, and Willy is talking, and then Lark pulls out his gun and is aiming it directly at Normal, and Sparrow is frozen, frozen in place, helpless but to watch and to stare at his twin and shake his head and plead with his eyes and think: this is not how I imagined this fight.

Once, he had dreamed of this fight. It was glorious, the rendition in his head. The Doodler was a mighty adversary, one who wanted to bring a reign of terror and chaos upon the land, and from a young age, Sparrow knew that he and Lark were the ones destined to rise up, bear their arms in kind, fight the Doodler and win.

But the Doodler isn’t a mighty adversary here, it’s just… scared, and alone. Is this really what Lark saw when he glimpsed into its mind?

And Lark still has a gun pointed at Normal. Realistically, Sparrow knows that he’s aiming for the Doodler, because that’s what they’re supposed to do, right? Fight the Doodler and win? It makes sense, and yet it doesn’t, because no version of their fight would result in their family getting hurt.

But that’s already happened. Our family is already torn to shreds! Sparrow wants to scream, wants to call out, but he is frozen and helpless and can only breathe a sigh of relief when Normal says… something to Lark and Lark puts his gun down.

He’ll find out what Normal said later. Now, they have a fight to win, and this is one that Sparrow doesn’t feel wordlessly, strangely guilty about.

And he crumples. And he drags himself back to his feet just in time to watch Willy flash away, leaving only the form of the Doodler that Sparrow has pointedly avoided looking at until now.

It could be a regular teenager, if teenagers morphed in and out of time and space, crackling with static energy. For a second, Sparrow comprehends it – the way the Doodler resembles, vaguely, the form that he had drawn when he was ten and wanted to give shape and dimension to the being that creeped into his dreams and spoke to him in whispered tones – before it shifts, and Sparrow only sees himself.

Doodler-Sparrow is small, quiet, big eyes staring Sparrow down as their form flickers from cardigans to dresses, hair going blonde and then dark again, eyes flashing green to amber and back to green. It’s dizzying: Sparrow quickly looks away, taking a deep breath even as it continues to look at him, and look at him, and Scary is reading something but it is still staring at him.

Then, quietly. “Hen?”

Sparrow inhales.

It is no secret that he misses his father terribly. Cutting himself off hadn’t been a personal choice: in fact, he still regularly calls his parents, tries making awful smalltalk, incorporates elements of his life that he liked into his own parenting, does his best for Hero and for Normal. And, and it isn’t like Henry is dead! Just… lost.

That was Sparrow’s fault too, wasn’t it?

“Hen is my father,” he says quietly, watches as Doodler-Sparrow shifts to look more like a younger version of his father staring at him in horror– in the fear of losing him forever, of having already lost him, or somewhere bitterly in between. “Hello… what did the kids call you? Dood?”

They nod, taking a step back as Sparrow steps forwards, wary. Arms curl around them, and its form flickers again, right back to the younger version of himself.

“Dood,” Sparrow repeats, and he snorts, shaking his head. “Alright, Dood. May I ask: do you remember anything of being… with my father? Hen?”

“I…” the Doodler – Dood, rather – takes another nervous step back, and Sparrow is forced to look down at the shadows they cast against the floors of the church to avoid the headache building behind his eyes. “It’s… hard. But I think you were beautiful.”

Despite himself, Sparrow smiles.

“Then I suppose you don’t remember my name,” he says, softly. “But I’m Sparrow. I gave you your name once, a long time ago.”

“The mascot,” Dood breathes, and they nod slowly. “I… is that my name?”

“Dood is just fine, I think,” Sparrow smiles, and he offers his hand slowly, the way he would with Hero when she was younger and unwilling to budge on one topic or another. “I know Normal is going to take great care of you, but I want you to know you can rely on me too, okay?”

He doesn’t know where this came from, except he does, because he just watched his son be held at gunpoint and reflected in Dood’s personage is the person that Sparrow turned away from in favor of what Lark wanted, of what the world needed, and where had it gotten them? His daughter hates him, and his son isn’t far behind. His father withers away and his mother is tired, so tired, and Sparrow has spent a lifetime loving and choosing his brother and it still hadn’t saved him, had it? He can’t force Lark to love himself, no matter how hard he tries, so shouldn’t he choose himself for once?

Dood didn’t deserve this, and they clearly don’t remember much of what Sparrow had once resented them for. Forgiveness is one of the principles of being a lovewolf, isn’t it?

“That… sounds nice?” Dood shifts in place, and Sparrow glances back up just in time to catch Himself looking back, tired and haggard and still so small. “I like Normal.”

Sparrow shifts his gaze. Normal is standing with Scary, gawking at her over… whatever it was she was reading that he’s since tuned out. He’s ditched the mascot suit but still wears the bright blue jersey he’s so fond of, his hair is messy and clearly unwashed, and there’s the smallest wisps of what might be facial hair above his lips, only noticeable when he frowns.

My son. Sparrow smiles. “Me too.”

He doesn’t know what might come next, but he thinks his father might be proud of him for once, and maybe that’s enough. Dood takes his hand, and though the static stings and writhes and whispers, Sparrow can only smile to himself and turn to face a world saved by his son and his friends, and maybe finally find the grace to heal his own inner child in the progress.

#dndads spoilers #kasey writes stuff #dndads #sparrow oak garcia #the doodler #the doodler dndads #dood beloved #i just think. theyre neat #<33333

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braindamagedrizz · 1 year ago

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Pleaseeeeeeeee go into the relationship between o14 and Ruxiz

Gladly! Take a sketch for your travels.

So it varies depending on the setting of the story, (Fanfic, or Roleplay), but all-in-all it starts out as Ruxiz becoming a pupil to both of them. In most incarnations, Ruxiz approaches them for aid in training his Light and/or his combat abilities. The start of their relationship began slowly, starting as a simple mentor/student relationship, then adjusting into a friendship as he spends late nights in their apartment with Osiris' studies and having dinner with them when Saint is home to cook for them. Ruxiz would often sleep on their couch when he passed out mid-lecture, or would wake up early in the morning to tidy their home and Osiris' work-place to get ready for the day's lesson. The moment things delved into a more intimate feelings was when things go tricky, depending on the story, the relationship would either progress smoothly or have more hiccups in the road either due to their different positions or something standing in the way. Ruxiz was the first to admit romantic feelings, he brought it up during one of their group training sessions which ended quickly as he was called to the aid of another Guardian. Saint and Osiris discussed it between themselves and eventually invited the hunter into their relationship.

For the most part, they have a very healthy polycule dynamic, Ruxiz who typically doesn't experience jealousy adjusted easily to the dynamic, especially since he was previously in a polycule with his fireteam. Though Ruxiz had trouble adjusting, they progresses slowly over the course of a few months until it became normal for Ruxiz to spend days at a time in their apartment sharing quick affections with them when they had the time. With most relationships there were some hiccups, with the cult storyline Osiris snapped at Ruxiz at one point and said something he shouldn't have. But Saint always brings them together, or they find ways to apologize to each other in their own time. It took Ruxiz a while to learn how to live around Saint and Osiris, being younger and more energetic, and used to PDA he had to adjust to Osiris' reservations and Saint's as well. Likewise they had to adjust to Ruxiz who had strange habits, but with some trial-and-error they formed a routine around each other and eventually would make their relationship a little bit more 'public'. Typically among co-workers for transparency.

While I do write their relationship to be very mutually respectful and loving, there's always the chaos in that Ruxiz is just the feral animal they drag around by a leash like. Saint: "He don't bite" Zavala: "YES HE DO-" Osiris: "He don't bite.." Ruxiz: "GHGHGGEWFEJWJHBHJ"

#destiny 2 #destiny oc #destiny 2 oc #destiny awoken #destiny the game #osiris x saint 14 #osiris x saint 14 x oc #o14 x oc #Ruxiz is not jealous #but he is protective #and has growled at people openly #Osiris looked horrified #Saint was proud #ask answered

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optiwashere · 11 months ago

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Moar Asheera image 👉👈?

🥺

Well, I decided to start a very fast Asheera run through with some mods. Basically "play this game in the easiest possible way so I can focus entirely on Asheera's feelings about the companions' reactions and motivations" for some writerly inspiration. Plus, I've been feeling the need to re-experience everything and get some Act 1 and 2 screenshots/saves.

I know there's some nasty quest item related bugs right now, but I completely avoided any sort of bugs in my first playthrough so fingers crossed!

Anyways, where was I? Ah yes.

Nautiloid business. Freed Shadowheart. Woke up on the beach, etc.

I'm trying to focus on roleplaying Asheera here, and she was definitely tempted to look at the artefact but this Shadowheart - what a strange name, Asheera would think - knew a fair bit on the nautiloid. So, awake she goes. They naturally decided to group up for safety in numbers. Shadowheart's cagey about a lot of things, but now's not the time to think about it.

Next, the pair had a run-in with a few intellect devourers, but they were no problem. A few sword slashes and mace hits and they were good as dead.

Also, this is where I mention that I cheated in a bunch of gear because I really don't want to interact with anything but the companions, a few NPCs (like Rolan) and the main quest. I plan on doing this run in a few big sessions over a weekend or two!

When it comes to Gale, Asheera's first impression is that he's a strange, strange man. She thinks he needs to just get to the point sometimes. She of course said #2 here. (Again, pay no mind to the get up lmao)

But a wizard is a fine companion on a dangerous journey, even if he's a bit odd. Then again, aren't all wizards?

Up next, they had a little run-in with the warrior from the nautiloid. How curious, she's all stranded up in this cage? It's no matter, Asheera convinces a pair of tieflings to go away so that she can talk to this woman again. She's even more knowledgeable about the mind flayers than Gale or Shadowheart it seems.

Asheera is naturally convinced of a cure and committed to finding one, which immediately makes Lae'zel warm up to her. Even just a little. (Side note: I hate Lae'zel's new dismissal to camp dialogue. Why is she soft right away?)

Side note pt. deux: Shadowheart is starting to regret trusting Asheera after this whole... let Lae'zel out thing. She says she trusts Asheera, but I think at this point she's starting to reassess things.

The group follows the tieflings' directions to the camp they called out only to find a band of adventurers being attacked by goblinoids. They call out a war cry to "the Absolute," whatever that is. After they're dispatched, the party meets another friendly tadpoled face.

Wyll is familiar to Asheera because of his moniker, and it's nice to put a face to the name. It's also a bit odd to find out someone she considers a real Hero is a fair bit younger than her. He's teaching a young tiefling how to distract someone in a fight long enough to run away, and Asheera thinks that it's A) super wholesome and B) clever to focus on the child's ability to confuse and confound if things ever got to be that bad.

Also, Asheera is beginning to see all these refugees and after talking to them she realizes they're likely from Elturel. As a Baldurian, she should be a bit frazzled by them. Some part of her probably is a bit annoyed to be helping people from what is essentially the rival school equivalent. But seeing children potentially in danger tempers that a fair bit.

Side note: Asheera laughed at this line from Shadowheart (there's a couple very fun, jokey lines Asheera says this early on for sure)

Asheera decides it's time to talk to the leaders of this place, and she gets wrapped in a whole thing with some girl named Arabella (side note: seeing her with her parents again legit almost made me cry)

I think this is a great time to talk about the fact that I'm using an Approval Dialogue mod. I want to see options when they conflict with companions' approvals and what the weighting implies. This won't always work since I'm going with my "canon" paths for everyone again, but it's something that I want to be able to see and think about from time to time.

This one where you talk to Kagha comes up after you can persuade her to let Arabella go (+1 to a bunch of approvals, but for right now I want to focus on Shadowheart for obvious reasons)

She has nothing to say about 1 or 3, but she gets a huge boost from 2. That's definitely the Sharran in her speaking through, but I do think part of it is her current mindset of pure survival instinct. If it was strictly "I'm a big evil Sharran" rather than whatever fucked up cocktail her brain is at this moment in the game, I think she would have some disapproval for 1 and IMO she might even enjoy 3 a little bit. But she doesn't necessarily mind 1 in particular, which is what Asheera says. It's a bit surprising to Asheera that Shadowheart doesn't have a comment on that. Worth noting for our half-orc.

She gets her hand pain here for the first time, but when Asheera asks about it the topic is stonewalled pretty quickly. Same with Shadowheart recognizing Dark Justiciars in one of the druids' wall murals. Fair enough. Asheera's a fair bit suspicious at this point, but they've got a unified goal and a paladin can cross that bridge when she comes to it.

Oh, and I got the wolf saving throw here which I didn't expect her to fail! It was fun having Asheera and Shadowheart talk about that so quickly. They're still a bit wary of each other, it's after all only the first (second?) day that they've even known each other. I think that Asheera would hear someone ask for comfort in a deep-seated fear and she would offer the simplest thing she can: protection. Shadowheart likely just sees it as a simple kindness given the way she words this, but I think it's very telling that just being... barely nice to her warms her to Asheera so quickly.

This is where Shadowheart's internal calculus shifts back to trusting Asheera again. Maybe she's a bit foolish about trusting Lae'zel, but there are worse people to have as a de facto leader in a situation like this.

(Also, I caught Asheera blinking lmao)

Summed up, Asheera's thoughts so far...

If this ceremorphosis is so deadly and swift, why are they all still alive?

The refugees need her help, and she's going to drag half this party into helping them if she has to.

Helping Elturians is not what she expected to be doing, but she also didn't expect to have a tadpole crammed in her brain so. You know.

Shadowheart is curious, secretive, and more than a little untrustworthy. She also approves of helping out the refugee children and seems a bit surprised to be offered basic kindness. So there's definitely more to her than the cold exterior shows, but Asheera can't quite figure it out yet. It could all be a façade. Asheera also has a thing for elven women with a little bite and wit.

Gale is an odd man with useful talents. He's been all right so far, being it's barely been a few hours, but of course a wizard would know to hide any ulterior motives right away. Asheera's suspicious of him and his kind demeanor.

Wyll and Lae'zel are the two that Asheera finds refreshing because it's clear what they want. Wyll wants to kill some devil, and Lae'zel is blunt about curing the parasite and going back to her people. They're easier than Gale and Shadowheart, even if Asheera is very lukewarm about Lae'zel. Wyll's a legend though, so she's just hoping this isn't a "don't meet your heroes" type situation.

Anyways, it was late when I decided to do this and I have other plans for the night. Next time, meeting Karlach and vampire boy and who knows what other fun moments! Toodles.

#hey you can ask me things!#oc: asheera #asheera replay posts #bg3 is a very easy game to begin with but I figured fuck it and I'm full sending a swift playthru #Hopefully I'll have time to play on the weekends? My Path of Exile fixation has ended for the league so there's time now #I actually had to jump back into an autosave for the Lae'zel screenshots because I'm still not used to taking them for myself lmao

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coulsons-fullmetal-cellist · 1 year ago

Text

The Final Girl Phone Call

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 1, 1996 (get it? Because Scream came out in 1996!)

Summary: this is my entry for the PedroHalloween2023 with the theme What’s Your Favourite Scary Movie? Thanks to @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi for bringing this to my notice and suggesting the story

Warnings: lots of references to Scream, somewhat difficult questions relating to horror films, Dieter being Dieter

Check out masterlist here

Watching a scary movie had a routine and ritual to it. A scary movie required comfort and tasty snacks. Scary movies required only the fluffiest of blankets to snuggle under to feel safe and warm while people were having their limbs chopped off by a machete wielding maniac on screen. This blanket was special because it was one of the first luxury purchases you made when you first moved to New Zealand. You were strangely feeling homesick, moving out of home for the first time, and you saw this soft orange blanket made from New Zealand wool. It cost more than a regular blanket, but it called out to you, wanting to offer you comfort. It provided many hours of comfort, especially when you were feeling lonely once you moved to Los Angeles. Once Dieter became a permanent part of your life, you introduced him to the blanket, almost like it was a pet, but obviously he loved it and treated it with respect.

You had just gotten out said comfy blanket and put it on the couch to get comfy with when a familiar tune broke through the silence. It was your phone. Normally you would check the caller ID but this time you answered without checking who it was.

“Who is this?”

“Tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine.” The voice on the other end was rough and laced with danger.

“I don’t think so.”

A few days earlier…

“You want to do a Scream roleplay?” Dieter looked at you like you asked him to strip naked, paint himself green and walk around town in public, which he would actually do and probably did once back in his younger, drug-filled days. “I’m a kinky guy, but that may be a bit too kinky for me.”

“It’s not that sort of roleplay. I just want to act out the opening scene.”

“Am I going to have to stab you? Because I really don’t want to do that.” He wrapped himself around you, almost protecting you from any potential dangers.

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” you kissed his cheek. “I don’t really want to get my fake blood out. And I wouldn’t know which one to use.”

“It would make a mess.”

“And how would we get the stabbing action going?”

“It would make a giant mess.”

You were too lost in your overthinking to notice that your boyfriend was teasing, “It’s going to be a lot of prep and too much effort.”

“I only like the good mess.”

“The good mess?” his cheeky look gave you the answer you were seeking, so you gently nudged him. “I’m just curious.”

“Curious was me in my days in a travelling nomad artist commune with access to too many drugs. You, my dear, have a morbid curiosity wrapped up in a sexy adorable package. One of the many reasons I love you.” He kissed your cheek this time.

“I just want to see how I’d be if your life was in danger.” He gave you that look again. “I know it’s weird. I’m just curious to know if I’d act smart or become a hopeless case.”

“You’ve seen way too many horror films to act dumb.”

“But that’s how I’d be on screen. How would I be in real life?”

“Would a Scream roleplay really help out?”

“Possibly. It’ll be fun.”

“Let me guess, you’ve already written a script?”

You didn’t want to admit how many times you watched the opening scene in order to write down the dialogue to get material for a roleplaying script.

“Maybe. But you come up with the questions, it’s not fair otherwise.”

Back to the script…

The plan was simple: Dieter will call you as soon as you got home. Then the roleplaying would begin.

You had made your way over to the kitchen. Taking a bag out of the cupboard, you put the popcorn in the microwave. After a pressing a few buttons, you shut the microwave door but realised it wasn’t loud enough, so you opened it again and slammed the microwave door shut. This time, it was loud enough to be heard at the other end of the phone.

“What’s that noise?”

“It’s popcorn.”

“You’re making popcorn?” you mumbled a yes, “Popcorn is only for when you’re going to watch a movie in my opinion.”

“What a coincidence, I was just about to put on a movie.”

“Really? What kind of movie?”

“A scary movie.”

“You like scary movies?”

“It’s my bread and butter.”

“So what’s your favourite scary movie?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to have a favourite. What comes to mind?”

“Well it’s a difficult question to answer. I have one too many favourites so really it should be what is my favourite right now? Normally I’d be up for a fun adventure like The Mummy, or a parody look at horror films like Tucker and Dale but really horror is such a great canvas to explore the harsh realities of life and use the metaphor of a supernatural monster to recreate and actual human monster.”

Dieter’s real voice came through the phone, “Honey cakes you’re going off topic.”

“Sorry,” you went back to the script. “Why do you want to know my name?”

“I want to know who I’m looking at.”

“What did you say?” You sensed that you were not alone and looked out the window, seeing only darkness. You made sure the screen door was locked; it was as it always was.

“I want to know who I’m talking to.”

You had moved to the front door this time and made sure it was locked; it was as it always was. “That’s not what you said.”

“What do you think I said?”

“What are you up to? Is this some kind of joke?”

It was at this point the microwave decided to provide a jump scare. You had forgotten about the popcorn until now. A tiny yelp was heard over the other end of the phone. You just left the door of the microwave open so it would stop screaming at you.

“More like a game. Can you handle that?” you didn’t answer. “I’ll take that as a yes. Now here’s how we play. I ask a question and if you get it right, I’ll spare the life of your boyfriend.”

Dieter could not play the double role of the boyfriend in danger. He was a talented actor, but not that talented.

“I’ll give you an easy question, as a trial run.”

You had by now, made your way back to the couch and wrapped yourself in the safety of your blanket. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

The voice on the other end gave a small maniacal laugh, “Now, what was the original title for Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“It was Head Cheese.”

“Good. But now all the questions get harder. Which means a harsher punishment for Mr. Sexy here.”

You covered your mouth, not because you were scared, but of the nickname your boyfriend gave himself. “So, first question: How many people does Jason kill in Friday the 13th?”

“Um, none because it was Pamela Vorhees who did all the killing.”

There was a pause coming from the phone, “Uh, I was meant to ask how many people died in that film but you’re correct, nonetheless. So next question: who was the serial killer in Silence of the Lambs?”

“There were two weren’t there?” the phone didn’t answer. “There was Hannibal Lecter obviously but there was also Buffalo Bill.”

You heard a rustle of paper and mild swearing, “Stupid kid ripped me off!” After a minute, Dieter finally got back into character, “Now here’s a really hard question: what is regarded as the first horror film?”

“That would be Le Manoir du diable.”

There was a pause, “And in English that would be?”

“The Devils Castle.”

“Correct. Next question: what horror film made the most money worldwide?”

“Are we talking most profitable film or highest grossing film?” you didn’t get an answer, so you continued. “Because the highest grossing horror film is IT, but Paranormal Activity grossed nearly $40 million off a $450, 000 budget.”

“Okay, um…”

Intense rustling was heard coming from the hallway cupboard. You went to investigate, knowing it would spell certain doom in any horror film but for real life, cause just a mild inconvenience.

The rustling noises got more frantic, and the doors of the cupboard suddenly opened, your boyfriend spilling out onto the hallway floor. It was hard to tell it was him at first because he had dressed himself head to toe in a black robe. From his hands spilled out his phone, some scribbled notes, and a mask. You picked it up to see that it was a replica of Ghost Face.

“You went and got the costume?”

“Well yeah. I had to get into the part, didn’t I?” he rubbed at his knee where he fell. “It took me a while to find that mask. All the stores had were the ones from the latest Scream film and I wanted to make sure it was the same as the first Scream so…”

“I don’t think I would have noticed,” you saw the dejected look on his face so you knelt down and embraced him, “Aw, you’re the best boyfriend ever!”

“I am?”

“Yeah. But I have to ask: why did you hide in the cupboard? You could have hidden yourself away in the spare room.”

He was probably dazed from falling out of the cupboard, “Because…it was authentic to the film?” neither of you were convinced. “And I love you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Were you planning on jumping out and scaring me?”

“Kind of. I was hoping we’d do a bit of light tussling followed by some sexy time,” he sighed. “Sorry the questions weren’t that good. The kid on set said they were really hard questions.”

“I thought they were pretty good questions.”

“Really?”

“Really really.”

You helped him get up which took longer than normal as the length of the sleeves provided lots of tripping up material.

“I don’t know how anyone can do anything in this costume.”

“Well, they did stumble a lot in the first three films,” you hugged him close. “So do you want to get out of this costume and…?”

“Get naked?”

“I was going to say snuggle up on the couch and watch a scary movie,” he pouted adorably. “I made popcorn.”

“I like popcorn. And I like snuggles.” He tried to wrap his arms around you but then remembered that the sleeves prevented this, so he took off his costume. You don’t know how he managed to get the costume on in the first place with how much difficulty he had getting it off. But soon he revealed back his normal self which was his normal Dieter attire.

By that time, you re-remembered about the popcorn and put it in its special popcorn bowl. Thankfully it was now at the perfect temperature for snacking on while watching a scary movie.

“Any requests?” you asked him.

He thought long and hard, so about thirty seconds, “Um, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” you looked at him in surprise. “You asked for a scary movie request.”

“Is it scary?”

“Remember the tunnel scene?”

“Oh,” You shuddered. “That might be too scary.”

“How about the one with witches and that actor you like?”

It took a while for you to decipher this, “You mean Hocus Pocus?” he nodded so you kissed in agreement and made your way to the couch.

Dieter carefully picked up the blanket before sitting down and let you snuggle up to him. He then arranged the blanket so it covered the both of you. “So how do you think you’d be in a scary situation?”

“I think I’d be a Sydney Prescott,” he looked confused. “You know, she’s the final girl from-“

“Scream, yeah. You definitely are,” he kissed your forehead. “My final girl.”

Lovingly tagging @pedrocontestsrus @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @brilliantopposite187 @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @cevans-is-classic @glshmbl @perennialdoll247 @joelswritingmistress

#PedroHalloween2023 #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #dieter x honey cakes #love of horror fanfic #love of horror

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