#anyway here is the long awaited sequel

[philtstone]

and maybe #38 for the lotr characters of your choice (maybe in your summer camp/road trip/grad students AU if you feel so inclined?? But follow your ♥️)

#38 -- until you come back home i am absolutely inclined to write for that au because i just finished rewatching fellowship and wept a little (read a lot; its been A Week) at the last 40 minutes so my natural instinct was to write something belligerently, intrinsically ridiculous. here is the original fic to which emma is referring and i dont know necessarily how well the prompt was met but it's in there somewhere. thanks homie xxo you always got my back on this verse

Frodo has come to notice that Aragorn has a no-honking-the-van-horn-unless-it's-life-or-death policy, which becomes a point of contention amongst the party when they are trapped in a veritable angry-honk stand off with twenty other cars in a traffic-logged mountain road. Frodo observes this from his spot in the middle row of the van, squashed between Sam and Merry, while Gandalf harrumphs over their upside-down roadmap and everyone in the back -- by which Frodo very much means everyone -- continues to bicker. The volume of said bickering is only slightly better now than about twenty minutes ago, when they had Boromir on speaker phone.

"If the highway's blocked all the way from here to that big Rohan City Stadium --"

"This is the only road with actual pavement though."

"But if it's blocked --"

"Bloody global warming. This isn't natural, you know? This kind of rainstorm, in June?"

"Actually," says Legolas's voice, "it's hailing. This is a hail storm."

He says this as the torrentious patter of rain on the roof of the van above their heads turns somewhat more violent.

Eowyn groans and buries her face in her hands. Frodo supposes she's every right to groan, as her legs are squashed in between Gimli, who is continuing to decry the climate crisis, and Faramir's knapsack of snacks, which in his defense he is holding mostly atop his own person, but it's so large that it leans a bit onto Eowyn too. Sam is playing xs and os against himself by drawing invisible lines on his knee and Merry has his cheek squashed against his hand and keeps sighing loudly every five minutes. Pippin's fast asleep and snoring.

Up at the front of the car, Aragorn remains staring determinedly at nearly invisible the road -- the view from the windshield is Abstract Grey Haze -- Gandalf remains muttering over their map, and Arwen, who gets carsick when the weather is like this, remains morosely in the middle seat, her head resting quietly against the driver's shoulder.

The cacophony of honking cars continues around them, as does the storm. The road really is well and truly blocked. Frodo thinks a big tree might have knocked down onto it. And perhaps something about power lines.

Giving Sam a significant Look, he unclips his seatbelt and scoots up to peak between the drivers' seats. The stereo is playing Joni Mitchel at very low volume. Frodo wonders if perhaps it isn't Uncle Bilbo's old CD, donated righteously to the cause.

"What do they think they're achieving, honking the horns?" Frodo wonders aloud, as another obnoxious beep sounds.

"Satisfying their own frustrations," Aragorn offers, without much judgment. He taps his fingers against the wheel and adjusts the rearview mirror, which has a dried bundle of lavender hanging from it. He's pulled his hoodie over his hair to keep from getting cold, as the window has been cracked open for Arwen's sake. Yet another car horn screeches, quite close to them this time; Arwen grimaces and Aragorn's expression turns very slightly grim.

"Will we really have to go back?" Frodo asks, very quietly. Gimli keeps talking about the old highway tunnel his cousin built. But that's nearly a day's drive from here, still.

"Harrumph," is all Gandalf says, and turns the map over a third time; Frodo looks at Aragorn.

"There's a sign that says falling rocks ahead," he says, as quiet as Frodo had been. "I don't like the idea of that."

"Harrumph," says Gandalf again, more forcefully. He takes a puff of his e-cigarette. The windshield wipers squeak a bit on their next routine whub across.

Frodo sighs. Wriggling a little, he reaches into the front pocket of his t-shirt and pulls out the USB drive. This is an awful lot of misery just to potentially save the environment.

"What do you think, Frodo?" asks Aragorn. For the first time all afternoon he has taken his eyes off the road and is looking at Frodo.

On the one hand, Frodo thinks, if they go back, it will be at least another few days added to the number of days before they can go home. But if they stay here in this hail storm -- well. Road safety is very important, Frodo's always thought. He's sure Sam's gaffer would agree. He's not wholly sure Uncle Bilbo would agree, but then, he is not in the van.

Aragorn gives Gandalf a significant look -- of a different flavour from that which Frodo offered Sam earlier -- over the top of Arwen's head, when Frodo expresses this. Gandalf looks terribly aggrieved. But then he looks at Frodo and he says,

"Yes, alright."

With a hard yank their van swerves out of the lane and into the opposite one (there is a series of loud cries and intermingled oofs from the back) which is just soon enough to miss the fender bender behind them. They spray hail-water and nearly get clipped by a giant oncoming semi truck, but that collision's averted; with a decisive, sure palm, Aragorn slams the car horn, so long and loud that Pippin all but yelps awake.

Frodo scoots back over to Sam, and they begin playing xs and os together.

"Warmer weather, here we come!" Gimli declares happily from the back.

"Mosquitoes live in warm weather," Legolas supplies helpfully. "They're big carriers of West Nile this season."

As the worst of the storm is left behind them, Eowyn groans again.

[smolkooks]

incoming call... (part ii) - kenji sato

a/n: roughly 2k more words of kenji sato fluff! sequel to 'incoming call...' link to part i

ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

“ouch!”

you snickered, “ken, i told you not to get too close! she doesn’t like strangers,” you leant down to scratch the little kitten’s cheeks, and because she knew you and you were undoubtedly her best friend, she purred in contentment, all the while giving kenji sato an irritated glare.

the nickname—ken—slipped off your tongue smoothly, the same way you’d been saying it for the past few months that you’d been spending around your highschool sweetheart. even though you’d been apart for so many years and hadn’t seen each other for so long, it had been easy to slip back into an old rhythm.

“fuck, i didn’t know she’d actually bite me, she looks so tiny,” he hissed, shaking his reddened finger.

“size means nothing when it comes to animals,” you retorted, and despite the way you rolled your eyes, you still handed him an ice pack from your freezer, “take this, big baby.”

he huffed but took it anyway, pressing it to his injury.

it had become a bit of a routine—after his games, he’d come over to your clinic to visit you while you handled the late-night clean ups. the rest of the vet team headed home at closing, but with no kids or family to care for, you often spent your evenings here, keeping the animals company and handling some of the extra paper work. 

“how’s emi doing, by the way?” you said as you refilled some of the water bowls. most of the animals were sleeping at this time, but you still liked to make sure they were all fed and watered. in fact, it was better to do it while they were asleep—less whinging from the little babies for treats.

“she’s doing well,” he said, and it was his turn to roll his eyes as he leant against the bench, “attitude and all, as always.”

“she’s a teenage girl,” you said with a laugh, “it’s so normal. i was one, so i can affirm.”

“mhm,” he said, eyes gleaming, “i remember.”

it was weird, toeing this line with kenji sato. so long ago, you’d been each other’s universes and after separating to go to university, the two of you had been sucked into different orbits—him going into baseball in the states, and you pursuing veterinary medicine in australia. it almost felt like fate nudging you, having the two of you run into each other—back in japan all these years later.

saving you from responding, his phone rang at that very moment. being around kenji all these weeks had gotten you used to his late night calls—how he’d have to run off to take care of the city. but this call seemed to come from one of his teammates, with the familiar way he addressed the person on the other side of the line.

he’d told you that at first he didn’t have any friends here, too busy to do anything but work. but now, he’d grown close to plenty of his teammates and of course, he had you.

“yeah well, i’m kinda busy right now actually...why?” you overheard him say as you busied yourself with some clean up and tried not to look like you were eavesdropping, “oh...oh! yeah uh—what?! what the...” his change in tone piqued your interest.

“...right, thanks for telling me, i’ll call you back later, yuta. thanks...” he hung up, and turned sharply to you, meeting your awaiting gaze, “the press caught you, uh, getting into my car.”

you frowned, confused at the problem with that, considering it wasn’t at all illegal for kenji to have friends.

“they’re blowing it up,” he said, running a hand through his hair and messing it up again, “i...i don’t mind, but i don’t want it to hurt you, that’s all.”

you waved his concerns off, “it’s whatever, to me. as long as it doesn’t harm your reputation, i don’t really have a public image to maintain. my patients don’t care who i date or don’t date.”

date? you felt flustered the moment those words left your lips. even though the two of you had been getting closer again and flirting and doing things that one would do while dating, neither of you had clarified the boundary yet.

kenji seemed equally as flustered and didn’t address what you’d said, not wanting to embarrass you, “you’re right,” he smiled crookedly, and you returned one back despite your racing heart.

***

the moment you stepped into your mum’s house, you were bombarded.

“what’s this about you dating kenji again!” she exclaimed, shutting the door behind you and ushering you into your childhood living room, “i haven’t seen that boy in decades. and since when were you—,”

“what, mum?” you cut her off sharply, even as she shoved you into a chair and poured you hot tea, sitting down opposite you eagerly, “i’m not dating him? plus, where’d you even—,”

she shoved the article in your face before you could even finish the question, her phone screen so bright that it took your eyes a second to adjust. “mum, your phone’s so bright, it can’t be good for your eyes.”

“not important, y/n,” she snapped hurriedly, “look at it.”

blinking your eyes to focus, you finally saw the image clearly. it really did look like you were dating. the window of kenji’s porsche was wound down, and you were leant over towards him, pressed so close to him in a way you didn’t remember doing, even though you knew that you’d only been reaching over to grab the gum from his glovebox. the way he was looking at you, though—you hadn’t noticed in the moment. it was really full of adoration, eyes glittering with a love you remembered so clearly from your highschool days, and his arm was reached out around you in a way you also hadn’t noticed before.

“explain,” your mum demanded, although she didn’t seem annoyed, she seemed...quite excited, the way her eyes were suspiciously bright, “i miss seeing that lovely boy around.”

embarrassed, especially as your eyes scanned over the headline—baseball star kenji sato’s new sweetheart?!—you stuttered, “uh, i ran into him a few weeks ago and we’ve been hanging out, you know, at the clinic.”

“well, then, what are you doing in his car?” she rushed, waving her phone around again, “doesn’t look like the clinic to me. and look—,” she scrolled down a bit further to another picture, this one even more incriminating.

it was you, tucked in the audience of one of kenji’s baseball games, dressed in his team colours, cheering amongst the other vip guests sitting amongst you—friends and family of the players.

“well—,”

“i’m not hearing it,” she cut you off, a grin breaking out, “you’re bringing him over! i can’t believe it—my daughter and kenji, reunited,” she sighed happily, “i was worried you would never settle down, you know.”

flustered, you didn’t even bother to object, sagging in your seat at her insistence.

***

“y/n, i’m really sorry, i didn’t think it’d be that bad,” he said hurriedly as he followed you up the stairs to your apartment, “i’m really sorry. i’m trying to get them to take it down but you know how—,”

you whirled around as you shut the door to your apartment after letting him in, “my mum wants to see you.”

“huh?”

you sighed, switching on the lights and throwing yourself onto your couch, “she saw the article and couldn’t stop going on about how i was finally settling down and how she needed to see you again.”

he ran a hand through his hair, “you...don’t mind?”

“kenji,” you sat up straight, beckoning him over, “i don’t mind. and i wouldn’t mind...”

the silence was loud, the only sound in the room the quiet humming of your lights and the traffic outside, as he sat down beside you, sinking into the cushions.

you knew you didn’t have to finish your sentence. kenji sato knew you too well. he met your eyes and pulled you close, hugging you to his chest. you breathed in his scent—clean, and a little tinted with fish. you’d found out that he often had to go fishing—diving, more like—for emi’s dinners, and that was why he was so often around your apartment block...to fish in the river like a weirdo.

“y/n...”

you hummed, waiting for him to continue as you pressed your face into his chest.

“i really meant it when i said i missed you, back when we first saw each other again,” he began, and you smiled into his skin, “i was so lonely. drained, and it was like fate—seeing you that day saved me, i swear. you were all i could think about. i couldn’t...i couldn’t imagine never seeing you again.”

“kenji,” you murmured, leaning back to look at him earnestly, “i missed you, too.”

“what i’m trying to say is,” he swallowed, looking down before looking up to meet your gaze again, “i...i wanna date you, y/n. if you’ll have me,” suddenly shy, he flushed a bit at his own words.

you smiled at how sweet it was, how shy he seemed and also how your stomach fluttered with butterflies, “ken, of course i’ll have you. you’re all i want.”

you’d barely finished your sentence when his lips met yours in a gentle, soft kiss. you couldn’t really put it into words, how it felt to kiss kenji again after all these years. it felt like coming home. it felt like taking all the colours of the sunset and smearing it across a canvas. it felt like drinking warm milk tea. you hummed into the kiss as he deepened it, pulling you closer by the nape of your neck, and you reached up to tangle your hands in his dark locks, pulling him down towards you at the same time.

you were so close to him you could feel his heartbeat—almost hear it, and you hoped he couldn’t hear how quickly yours was racing. he tasted of caramel, and you couldn’t help but sigh as his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as you broke apart from the kiss, curling into him in a hug.

“y/n,” he murmured, keeping his arms wrapped around you, “i really, really missed you.”

you’d missed him too. his little habits, his dishevelled hair—fish smell, and all. you’d missed him more than anything.

finally, you’d come home.

[nolita-fairytale]

something will happen | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: you and luca embark on another a big new adventure together: one of second dreams and second chances. the long-awaited sequel to 'burn your life down.' titled inspired by something will happen - berlioz.

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: it's really happening! i can't promise i'll be updating frequently, but season 3 got me inspired and i've really missed this world. this feels more like an intro than a chapter but here we are anyway. all italicized scenes are a part of the same conversation. i just wanted to play with something new so i hope it makes sense. lmk if you'd like to be tagged.

masterlist | chapter two

Late Spring

“Well? What do you think?” Luca asks you, the anticipation in the silence between the two of you palpable. 

“I don’t know!” you practically exclaim, all giddy at the mere idea of it. You chew on your lower lip as you wait for him to say something next. 

“I’m just saying. It’s not a half-bad idea and ehm… well, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot, actually,” he reasons with a shrug. He sends a loving glance your way because you look so damn cute wrapped in your twin-sized duvet that makes up one half of the bed you share. 

“For how long?” you ask, cautiously. 

“Dunno,” Luca shrugs. “Ever since Marcus mentioned it, I suppose.” 

He’s almost too casual about this—as if he hasn’t been stuck on the idea for the last month or so since his friend had returned to the States.

This is most certainly not a lazy Saturday morning with breakfast in bed kind of conversation. 

This is a paperwork and really nice pens kind of conversation

A big step.

Huge, even. 

You’ve already agreed to live with the man. 

And now this?

“Luca…” you struggle to get out on an exhale. “I just. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just-.” You pause, collecting your thoughts as you shake off all your nerves before choosing to pivot.

“What if we just-.” you begin again, taking a breath as you brace yourself to jump over this specific cliff. “Total fantasy. No limitations, no logistics, then sure. Okay. We could talk about it.” 

“Alright,” Luca accepts with a nod, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes like he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He sits up straight, pushing himself off of where he leans against the headboard, shifting so that he’s closer to you. The smile that spreads across his lips begins to grow as repeats your words back to you. “Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?” 

—---------------------------------------

Summer

The dream was only supposed to be this—one where you’d begin living with your very sexy and very sweet pastry chef of a boyfriend—and yet, months later, as you move your things into Luca’s Vesterbro flat, your thoughts are consumed by ‘what ifs.’ 

What if you did it? 

What if you opened the restaurant of your shared dreams? 

What if your dreams came true with the love of your life by your side? 

Opening Kokuore had been different. It was your first step towards your next chapter, one where you had moved to Copenhagen in search of a new beginning. But this would be… a proclamation: that you were here to stay, that you and Luca could be something permanent, that you could be more than just romantic partners. 

Proof of a life well-lived and a life well-loved. 

Kokuore had been your dream, your first, your baby. Sure, there’d been talk of expansion—maybe a bigger space, or something along the lines of that—but you hadn’t thought too deeply about a second. 

You hadn’t thought about what would come next. 

And then he did. 

Luca. 

“Need any help, love?” Luca offers, watching you scoop two stacked boxes up into your arms, ready to be hauled into the bedroom. 

“Nope!” you heave with a sigh. “Not with these. But if you could grab the other three I’ll meet you in the closet, babe.”

He smirks, calling after you with a: 

“And what do you suppose we should do there?” 

You chuckle in response, your voice sounding further away as you shout back, “Let’s just unpack a few of my clothes, love, before we start taking them off.” 

—---------------------------------------

“Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?” 

You sigh, like you too haven’t been thinking about it since Marcus brought it up in the first place. 

“Okay, I’m not ready yet,” you preface, cautiously. “But. If we were, hypothetically speaking, talking about opening a restaurant together… I kinda love the idea of a brunch spot.” “Like Marcus said.” “Exactly.” 

“Slash bakery.” “Right.” 

“Hypothetically speaking.” “Of course.” 

For a moment, your mind gets away from you, running wild with the fantasy that’s beginning to unfold before your eyes.

“I think I really like the idea of it being a bakery during the weekdays when we’re open,” you admit, an excitement beginning to bubble underneath the surface of all your reasons why you shouldn’t. “Maybe we do Wednesday, Thursday all grab-and-go sort of breakfast stuff in addition to the bakery.”

“Kind of like a NY-style bodega,” Luca adds, building on your idea. “You know. With a little extra finesse.”

“Yes! Then… Friday, maybe, we pivot to full breakfast/brunch till the end of Saturday,” you reply, building off what Luca’s just said. 

“Think Wednesday – Saturday service would work?” he asks curiously, knowing that most places are closed on Sundays in Copenhagen.

“We could try it out. Extend our hours to Sunday down the line IF it feels right,” you reason with enough ease to worry you a little. You begin to back pedal, your mind flooded with doubt. “But-, I don’t know, honey. Don’t you think Copenhagen has enough bakeries?” 

“Not ours! Copenhagen doesn’t have ours yet,” Luca protests, as soon he begins to recognize what’s going on in your head. His excitement and passion alone might convince you to do this as he sits up on his knees, his body language expressing just how fully IN he is on this idea. 

His face changes—he’s only just a little more serious this time—his tone light and voice gentle as he warns you with a: 

“And I’m not letting you talk to yourself out of this.” He crosses his arms over his chest almost as if it’s a challenge. “So tell me more about this bakery-slash-brunch spot you’ve got in mind.” 

“Luca Davies! I don’t know where you get off thinking you can sweet talk me into this,” you scold him teasingly. 

He’s even faster to reply. 

“Oh I think I can.”

And this time, you know it’s a challenge. 

“Fine,” you concede to him, meeting him right in the middle of his challenge. “But I don’t want this to be all about my ideas. Besides, aren’t you the one who’s been thinking about it for months now?” 

—---------------------------------------

Fall

Over fresh ink that’s barely had a chance to dry, you and Mathilde clink glasses in celebration of the very big step you’ve just taken together. The contract had barely been drawn up before she charged into now-your Vesterbro home, opened a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, ready to sign on the dotted line.

A promotion, chef du cuisine, and a bigger percentage in ownership of Kokuore—a piece of your heart—now shared between the woman who helped you create your masterpiece. 

“I can’t believe we’re really fucking doing this!” Mathilde practically squeals, bursting at the seams with excitement as she rests her arms against your kitchen island. The two of you sit side by side on twin bar stools, facing each other to the best of the chair’s swivel-ability. 

“I know. It’s unreal and yet it feels like the right thing, yeah?” you agree, half in shock. Shifting gears, your back to business as you continue with an explanation of the ownership plan that you’ve thought long and hard about. “It’s important to me to stay involved, but most of my focus will go towards the new space for at least the next year. We’ll have weekly check-ins and Mathilde, I want you to at least consider some kind of ownership eventually in the hospitality group should we go in that direction.”

“I forgot you went to business school. It’s very sexy,” she teases, but the prospect of a hospitality group feels even more exciting.  

There’s a feeling of familiarity between you and your friend as you begin to break down some of the nitty gritty details of the contract. With Luca out for a jog, it reminds you of the days when it was just you, her, and Jesper, exploring your shared wildest dreams. The nostalgia wells in your chest as you take another sip from your champagne flute. 

You were really doing this and you’re so lucky you get to do it with your favorite people. 

Well, with your favorite people again. 

Who would’ve thought that moving to Copenhagen would bring you this grand of an adventure?

—---------------------------------------

“Fine,” Luca agrees, knowing that the way he looks at you only stokes the flames you feel for him. He’s got plenty of ideas, spent maybe too much time thinking about breakfast menus and laminated pastry doughs folded with all kinds of experimental ingredients. He hasn’t felt this creative in… well… since he met you. 

“I love the idea of breakfast/brunch. And I’m already feeling really inspired by the prospect of getting to create a menu with you, darling,” Luca begins, ready to build off of your previous idea. “I guess my first question is… who will lead it?” 

He’s not expecting the elated, “You, silly!” that escapes your lips without hesitation. 

It’s not that he has doubts about himself, but you are the one with the business degree. You’re also the one that’s opened a restaurant before, so he'd be more than happy to let you take reins. 

“Not that I’m going to totally love being on opposite schedules but…” you continue, this hypothetical conversation feeling less and less hypothetical. “...maybe I turn Kokuore over to Mathilde… spend a little more time developing this next concept with you. But. Without question, my love, I think you should lead it.” 

It’s his turn to be surprised, your unwavering belief in him felt so deeply it practically takes his breath away. The only response he can get out is: 

“I love you.” 

“I love you,” you giggle in response. 

“I guess my question for you,” you shift cautiously, as it begins to dawn on you that this is something you just might want as much as he does. “...is… is this something you want to do? I mean, I know it’s going to be a really big pivot from fine dining and-.” 

“God yes!” Luca exclaims, relieved at the thought. “I’ve been dying to get away from the fine dining stuff. I-. It’ll be an adjustment, sure. But yes. Yes, it’s what I want.” 

You nod as you process, listening to the conviction in your lover’s voice. 

He wants this. He really wants this.

And he’s so sure. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you realize you don’t have to have to suppress the feeling any longer.

“Fuck it!” you declare, as if you’re inhaling for the first time. “Fuck ‘hypothetical.’ We should totally do this, babe.” 

“Yeah?” “Abso-fucking-lutely.” 

A beat. 

“So…” Luca trails off, the wave of excitement beginning to wash over him. 

“What do we call it?” 

The baritone in his voice catches your attention, and as you look at him, you can practically see it all. In Luca you’ve found your second chapter, your second great love, and now your second restaurant. The word falls out of your mouth as if it were destiny: 

“Seconds. I think… we should call it Seconds.” 

“I love it,” he grins back at you.

And now, you’re just as certain about a second restaurant, because you get to do it with him. Luca chuckles, catching your gaze once more, almost as if he’s about to say ‘I told you so,’ as he utters a cheeky: 

“Well, love. Looks like we gotta call Marcus and let him know he’s about to own 10% of a restaurant.”

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (1) II a.russo x reader

series playlist

this is part one to a lil multi part fic i've been working on, sequels and prequels to come

childhood sweethearts II a.russo x reader

"and you promise you'll not burn yourself out again right darling?" you sighed at the obvious concern present in your mums voice on the other end of the phone line. "yes mother i've learnt and i've grown and i'm doing all the self care things!" you cheered sarcastically, switching to hands free as you moved to stir your dinner.

"ha ha ha. i think you forget that i still know where you live and i have no issues just popping in every now and then to check on-" the older woman began to threaten as your eyes widenened.

"okay okay there's no need for that mum! i'm doing well, i promise." you responded a lot more sincerely as the woman on the other end simply hummed. "this school and my workload is a lot less intense, really! my colleagues are very friendly, my boss is approachable and i love my class. better?" you sighed as you switched off your stove and began to dish yourself up a bowl.

"and it's brought you back closer to home, my favourite part!" your mum cheered as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"yes it has however i maintain that i have boundaries mum. you, lily and harry are only welcome to visit with an invitation." you warned, half serious and half joking as you grabbed your phone and moved to the living room, sinking down into the sofa.

"yes you made that very clear, feeling very loved darling." "you know i love you ever so dearly mum but i also love my own space."

"oh god i almost forgot. you'll never guess who i ran into the other day!" your mum suddenly gasped making you chuckle, if you'd even tried guessing you could have been stuck on the phone with her for hours, your mothers social circle seemingly never ending.

it used to be a point of contention for you in your youth, hating the way you were seemingly forever pulled away to dinners or parties or barbeques, having to beg your parents to leave once it grew late in the night and your social battery had long hit its max.

as your siblings grew older they were always excused from going to these elaborate social events and you'd beg to be given that same privilege but as the youngest that was one thing you coudn't talk your way out of.

though once your dad passed you watched that break her down to nothing, seemingly just a shell of the woman she once was when he was alive and all was well.

but with time you grew to watch your mother pick herself back up slowly and start to rebuild her own support net. recconecting with her inner circle after isolating herself from the outside world for so long, it warmed your heart and was something you would forever encourage for her.

knowing that the older woman would always thrive and be at her best as a social butterfly and the hostess with the mostess, it had helped her to heal.

"if i guessed we could be here for hours and i have an island full of gorgeous single airheads and a bowl of pasta calling my name, so who did you run into?" you chuckled, shoveling in a mouthful of food as you awaited her answer.

"carol russo!" you choked at her words, spitting out the pasta you'd half chewed and breaking out into a coughing fit, scrambling for the glass of water on the coffee table.

"oh honestly i wish you'd learn to chew before you swallow, the food isn't going to disappear!" your mum scolded you as you finally caught your breath again.

"oh i'm grand mum, thank you for your concern!"

"anyway. well i've not seen her for years as you'd know and then there i was just browsing the strawberries, i needed some for a new crumble recipe i'm trying, and there she was, just grabbing a bunch of carrots!" you had to withhhold the urge to laugh at the way your mother told stories and just how animated she'd become, so fixated on the small details as she basically told you their entire conversation and coincidentally revealed her entire shopping list as she went.

"so we're all going out for a meal on thursday to catch up properly." you hummed, only half listening at this point. "that sounds nice." you mumbled, flicking through the tv.

"so you'll be there then? i said half past six since i know you're normally home from work around five." now that had you tuning back in. "wait, you what?" you directed your full attention back to the conversation.

"dinner with the russo's. half past six at paradiso, your brother and sister already said yes." your mum repeated as your stomach dropped and you fell silent. "darling did you hear me?"

"yeah i did. but look mum i have lesson planning to do and that's a school night and-" "oh y/n please! carol made such a point to ask how you've been and how much she'd love to see you. i know you and lessi drifted apart but you're both adults now darling i'm sure you can find some common ground, and the two of you used to be inseparable."

and there it was.

you could have just maybe deluded yourself into thinking that there was a slight chance the youngest russo wouldn't be present, perhaps you'd get lucky and she would be too busy off being a european football superstar.

but now you knew she'd be there the pit of worry and dread forming in your stomach only widened, quickly going from a small hole to a gaping chasm as the nerves already settled in at the thought of speaking with her after so many years apart.

"actually no you know what darling i don't care if you're an adult now, you're going. no arguments!" your mum decided, hastily excusing herself and stating she couldn't wait to see you, ending the call before you could utter another word.

~

"oh god, get it together! they're just regular people and its just one dinner." you mumbled to yourself with a shake of your head as you fixed your hair in your rear view mirror for the fifth time, sinking into your seat with a long exhale.

you jumped and let out a yell of shock as someones knuckles rapped against your window, an all too familiar toothy grin shining down at you as you grabbed your bag and popped open your door.

"shortstack!" giorgio cheered, surprising you as he scooped you up into a bearhug. "well, maybe not so much anymore." he placed you back down as he looked you up and down with a beaming smile.

"hi gio." you laughed fondly, hugging him again as he squeezed you, having been just like another brother to you as you'd grown up, it seemed he hadn't changed a bit.

"still shorter than me though, and definitely shorter than lessi." the boy teased as you felt a wave of nausea wash over you as the realization once again sank in you'd be seeing her again after all these years.

"so its been years, how have you been?" the italian laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you briefly caught him up on what you were doing now as he did the same, the two of you wandering into the familiar restaurant.

"hasn't changed eh?" he chuckled as the both of you looked around, fondly recalling memories of all the dinners your combined families would have here throughout your childhood, the same owners still preserving its legacy and charm years and years later.

"hey, i was really sorry to learn about your dad. he was a good man, one of the best." the boy gently grabbed your arm and tugged you to the side a little, genuine sorrow in his eyes at the words as your lips pressed together and you nodded.

pity, you hated pity.

"thanks gio." you squeezed his shoulder with a small smile as the two of you resumed your chatter and you spotted the rest of your families already gathered together at a large table up the back, the same table you'd always sat at.

it seemed the two of you were the last to arrive as cheers erupted and you both made your rounds saying hello, without even needing to look to your right you could feel a certain blondes eyes burning holes in the side of your head, but you weren't quite ready to accept that just yet.

"sweetheart look at you! absolutely beautiful." carol beamed, pulling you into a very tight hug after you'd finished once again being lifted into the air both by mario and luca, seemingly an italian tradition as thats how it had always been for you with the men of the russo household.

"its so lovely to see you again carol, mum was delighted to have bumped into you, i know she's missed you since it all happened." you admitted softly, the older woman nodding in understanding and rubbing your back comfortingly.

though the gesture was not anything new it did send your heart racing, as you knew another russo who was fond of that exact same thing and at the seemingly simply action a million memories came crashing down onto you and your knees buckled slightly.

doing your best to shake them off you greeted your own siblings and mum, and then without anyone else to use as a buffer you found yourself having to take a seat, and of course the only seat free would be next to her.

your stomach dropped as finally you had no choice but to look at her, the girl thankfully caught up in conversation with your sister sitting across from her you found her eyes no longer gazed back at you.

it presented you with a small fleeting moment to actually take her in.

long gone was the grubby ten year old brunette who would tackle you to the ground and sit on you to paint your face with mud after she'd spent the afternoon kicking footballs at your head, now sat before you was a woman.

you knew she'd forgone her natural hair colour for the bottle blonde, in fact you'd been the very first person she told the moment she even started to consider it. you'd gone with her to the salon for her appointment, showering her with praise at her new cut and colour which she'd clearly stuck with over the years.

gone was the baby fat which once rounded out her face, her features though still soft had become more defined over time, and you couldn't help but allow your eyes the luxury of roaming her incredibly toned arms which sat on full display, likely attributed to the hours she dedicated to training every day.

she had always been strong physically, easily able to overpower you during countless wrestling matches in your early youth, or pinning you down on her bed to steal the breath from your very lungs with a searing kiss in your teenage years, forever teasing you to no end at all the ways she bettered you in strength.

sat with one leg crossed over the other you marvelled at the tight fitting dress which adorned the curvature of her body, another thing that grubby ten year old alessia would have scoffed at, forever foregoing fancy dress ups and heels for football boots and a tattered hand me down manchester united jersey.

of course over the years you'd grown up together there was changes within you both, the biggest of everything being the fact you realized you loved one another in a way best friends shouldn't, thinking about one another the way the rest of your friends spoke about liking boys.

it was how the two of you had wound up being one anothers first everything, though that was a secret reserved only for the two of you to share, and one that would take much more time than a quick dinner for you to really unpack.

so swallowing down the hard lump in your throat at the cascading emotions washing over you, you screamed at your legs to move and cleared the distance between you and her, your sisters eyes flickering toward you alerting alessia the chair beside her would no longer be vacant.

sneaking a glance up toward you she had to stop herself from gasping. much like your own observations, to alessia gone was the shy smiley ten year old she'd chased around her backyard every afternoon and sat giggling for hours with tucked away in pillow forts on rainy days, replaced instead with a well spoken and quite frankly drop dead gorgeous woman looking to her expectantly.

alessia quickly stood to her feet, wincing at the obnoxious scrape of her chair against the hard wood floor, the two of you sizing one another up clearly unsure how to proceed.

"hi." you started softly, alessia swooning at the dimples which hadn't left you over the years, your nose still scrunching slightly as it always had when you smiled.

"hey." the striker managed to force out with her own nervous smile, the two of you hesitating for a moment, clearly both ticking over if a hug was the next most appropriate step.

though right as alessia began to move closer, arms ready to envelop your shorter form, it seemed the decision had been made for both of you as servers arrived.

handing out menus and starting to take drink orders meant the two of you dropped down into your seats, refusing to look one another in the eye as you spoke to everyone and anyone but each other.

alessia ordering a glass of white wine with a grateful smile her ears perked up and a slight frown appeared on her face as you murmured to the man you were content to stick with water.

"let me guess, no drinking on a school night?" your older sister lily had mocked with a teasing grin as you rolled your eyes at her over the lip of your glass.

"oh yes your mum was telling me you're teaching now! and you've just gotten back from working abroad?" carol tuned in at that point, seated beside your sister as you nodded.

"yeah i was in australia for two years teaching, i actually only got back a few weeks ago and started a position here in a local school." you confirmed with a smile, alessia glancing toward you with a look of surprise at the new information.

“oh that’s just wonderful, I can see you’d be the most amazing teacher. what age?” carol complimented sincerely as you sent her a grateful smile, you’d definitely found the right work for you and you adored your job so you always appreciated when it was picked up on by others.

“I was teaching grade five in australia but my class here now are only second years which is a bit of a change.” you answered with a chuckle, it had definitely been an adjustment but you honestly preferred it to how things had been overseas.

"got over your fear of planes then if you made it in one piece to australia?" luca chimed in with a wink as you waved him off, having always had a paraylsing fear of aircraft it had taken a lot for you to board that final plane away from everything you knew.

but with a new adventure awaiting and having done about as much preparation as one girl could do, once you were in the air it relieved you to know it actually wasn't all that bad.

"lessi just got back from australia, well we all did actually what a place it is. and what a shame we didn't know you were living there at the time!" mario added with a regretful smile before returning to his conversation with your brother.

"yes i was sorry to see how that ended for you lessi, you played brilliantly though! lil and i watched most of the games, footy for breakfast." your mum beamed, alessia unable to not share a grin with the woman, her happiness always having been infectious just as yours was, it wasn't hard to see where you got it from.

"y/n was at the semi finals too, in person." your brother harry chimed in as your face paled, having hoped this wouldn't come up as you felt ocean blue eyes pierce into the side of your head. "you were?" alessia's voice was soft and laced with surprise, and you were sure you were the only one who had heard her as you nodded.

"our school was given a handful of tickets by one of the parents who sits on the FA board, so i went with a few other teachers. the only english woman among a huddle of australians i wasn't the most popular on the train ride home or at work that next day!" you joked, cheeks flushed slightly red at all the eyes on you, grateful once the conversation seemed to shift to another topic.

but alessia wasn't quite finished with it yet.

"i wish i'd known you were there." the blonde admitted quietly, sparing a glance toward you as you stiffened. "you scored the winner, i didn't miss that." you replied softly, messing about with your fingers and staring down at the table as alessia's wine arrived.

she downed it in one go, tapping the server and murmuring for another as he nodded and took her glass away, the blondes head buzzing with the much needed liquid confidence.

"did your friends need to explain the rules to you?" alessia smiled, her tone now much lighter as you shared a look, own lips curling upwards at what she was insinuating.

"mostly just how offside works and what the hell VAR was." you joked, seemingly relaxing a little more in your chair as alessia did the same. "i see your ever growing passion for football hasn't changed then." the older girl teased sarcastically, ring clad fingers drumming against the table.

despite it being her one true love you couldn't have cared less about the sport, the only reason you feigned any interest was not to upset her or have her feel unsupported, and so you allowed her to teach you the rules of the sport so you would appreciate every game you sat at to watch her play, and you hardly ever missed a single one.

though that also never ever stopped her from forcing you to stand between the posts as she and her brothers fired shot after shot at you.

you’d often run off after a few minutes of being hammered and your best friend would chase you down, dragging you back to the goal and demanding you try to stop at least one of her shots and she would switch with you and let you kick at her instead.

it was safe to say you never did manage to get a turn at playing striker.

"could say the same for you, champion of europe now isn't it? bit of a step up from winner of the backyard round robins one on one with your brothers." your shoulder nudged into hers slightly, setting alessias entire body on fire just from the marginal contact, something she'd not felt in years.

"seems we have a lot to catch up on then." alessia smiled, your stomach erupting into butterflies at the slight rasp of her voice, scolding yourself for such feelings as you settled again.

"well six years is quite a long time."

~

though alessia was hyper aware of all of the physical changes within you, it warmed her to see there were still some things which stuck around all the same over the time you'd spent apart.

"some things don't change do they." the blonde murmured with an amused smile seeing you pick out every single tomato from your side salad, subtly moving them to an awaiting napkin as you blushed having been caught out.

growing up you’d always do the same, normally not much of a picky eater but what you didn’t like you didn’t like. thankfully for you though the blonde beside you ate like a hoover growing up with how much physical energy she exerted daily, especially in her early teen years. and would always take whatever you didn’t want, making sure her mum never noticed as you were determined not to have her think you didn’t like anything she prepared for you.

"here." alessia chuckled, reaching out to grab the small handful of tomato’s you'd collected and depositing them on her own plate, in turn dropping a few of her roast potatos onto your own in a silent exchange, shutting down your protests with a firm look.

"thanks." you smiled gratefully, conversation turning toward alessia now as everyone picked at their food. "so arsenal then less? big shift from you as a die hard united fan." your brother joked though knowing the girl as you did you didn't miss the way a small frown of discomfort flickered across her face.

but as soon as it was there it had disappeared again and she was chattering away about how happy she was with her new club, and admittedly you tuned out a little bit as your mind wandered to your lesson planning for tomorrow.

"hm?" you hummed as you heard your name, shooting back down to earth and rejoining the conversation. "head in the clouds still sweetheart!" carol teased as you laughed nervously, apologizing for your lack of focus and asking your mum to repeat herself.

"we were just saying that lessi's new place is quite close to yours." the older woman smiled with a look in her eye you didn’t like, sipping at her wine as you forced a smile. "oh is it? thats nice." you nodded, looking anywhere than at alessia who you knew was waiting for you to say something more.

though when you didn't the conversation turned once again and you exhaled slightly, however of course the conversation had shifted to what you and alessia were like as children, your mums swapping story after story which frankly sent your head into a spin.

you abruptly stood, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom as you started to feel a little overwhelmed, alessia's eyes following yours with a concerned frown. "go make sure she's okay lessi." her mum ordered, shooting down her protests with a stern look and shooing her away as the blonde sighed and got to her feet, following after you.

she hesitated on the handle for the bathroom, she was almost certain she'd had a hand in why you left the table in the first place so would her coming to check in on you even really help anything?

she mulled it over for a moment, hand still on the handle before she shook her head, deciding against it and taking a step away. though no sooner had she made up her mind was it changed for her as the door opened and you'd come striding out, smacking into the blonde whose hands grabbed at you.

though with her notoriously clumsy nature she found her footing slipped and she was sent tumbling to the floor, accidentally taking you down with her as your bum smacked against the concrete with a wince.

"fuck, i'm so sorry." alessia blurted out as her face burnt red in embarrassment, hurrying to her feet and offering you a hand up. "it's fine." you smiled politely, the blonde frowning at just how quickly you dropped her hand once you were back on your feet, attempting to step around her to return to the table.

"wait." her strong hands landed on your hips, spinning you around as your eyes widened and alessia realized her mistake, hastily snatching away her hands and stepping back, mumbling an apology.

"you said to wait?" you reminded, eyebrow raised clearly giving her the opportunity to say whatever she had intended. "oh. can we get a coffee sometime? to catch up." alessia forced out, grateful for the few glasses of wine in her system that allowed her to swallow the nerves which threatened to drown her.

"alessia-" you started and the striker could tell right away from your tone and furrowed eyebrows that you were angling for a no. she had to swallow her wounded pride at the realisation you were also the only one at the entire table who'd not called her a single nickname all night, and if she was honest you were really the only one who she wanted to.

"please." the blonde almost begged, her hand reaching out for yours again but pausing midway as you ever so slightly retreated, fingers falling dejectedly back to her side as you sighed.

"alessia i really don't know if-"

"we were best friends for a lot longer than anything else went on. i want to hear about what you've been up to, properly. not just a few awkward sentences at a dinner you clearly don't even want to be at."

you hated her for how well she knew you and could clearly still read you like a book, despite the length of time it had been since she'd even seen picked up and glanced at the cover.

"i've missed you."

and there it was, the three word confession seemingly innocent however it was enough to drive a metal spike right through your insides, and had you wishing you could curl into a ball and be swallowed up by the floor right about now.

"please? it would just be two old friends getting a coffee, catching each other up about the last six years of their lives. completely normal!" alessia tried again this time with a joking smile, desperately trying to ease the fast mounting tension arising between the two of you.

you had to respect her efforts, the taller girl rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet nervously, hands rubbing at the material of her dress desperate to try and wipe them dry, her skin soft and clammy at the sight of you in front of her again after so long.

"okay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part two

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 1

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

And so it begin with chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I'm Using it

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

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

You didn’t think once about how lovely the day would be as you finished dressing. You hadn’t checked the weather and you didn’t plan to. It felt like a given, as many things had since your honeymoon. Rain or shine, your days were fine. You had the love of your life, you had a menagerie of caring friends, you had health, and you had happiness.

What more could you ask?

In some ways, it felt like a far cry from before and in others it was a given. You were karmically due for some respite and the world provided. Maybe once in a while, things didn’t go your way, but they were mere flubs compared to the life ending threats you had once dealt with. Now your worst case scenario was forgetting an umbrella which your doting husband often circumvented by bringing you one anyway.

You adored the mutant.

He was just around the partition separating your bedroom and living room. You rounded it to him like fate. He clearly had a wherewithal you didn’t as he was already standing in position with one of your jackets pinched out and ready in his fingertips. He was your other half and as such covered such oversights. Moving over to him, you spun around in the process so you could slip one arm through the jacket. He helped you through the other sleeve and once you were cloaked in your outerwear you turned to him.

As his pair, you similarly made up for his oversights. That currently came in the form of soothing, which you did by reaching up to pet his cheek. Donnie came down in a churr and rumbled sweetly for you as you took the edge off of your outing. It would be busy out today, both for the weather and day of the week, but taking the time here to prepare him would soften the blow.

It was his form of protection and when he was fully saturated by it, he sent satisfaction through your wedding band.

He drifted from your fingers with a smile and turned to address the door. You patted yourself down for your necessary objects and Donnie flashed the lining of his coat to say he had done the same. You both lingered in a soft gaze because of it before you headed out. You fit perfectly side by side as you headed down the wall.

Donnie took only a slight step out of turn and, from it, you knew what kind of day this would be. It was one to be prolonged and he made the first maneuver by choosing to take the stairs. You hopped forward, a movement out of turn in hopes of startling him, but he’d long grown used to your idiosyncrasies. He slowed only for your sake and you asked him to watch with your eyes as you bounced down the steps, making sure each got their time.

You hit the first landing with your hands outstretched and turned with the gouache of an Olympian. He feigned a clap and held up a paltry score that wasn’t just because of his missing fingers. You pretended to sulk only for a moment before you swept a hand in a challenge for him to do better. He graced your appendage with a glance before he dipped the smallest amount and soared through the air. With perfect grace, he landed at the next landing and looked back to await his score.

You gave him two goose eggs and his brow dropped with protest. You waved him off, demonstrating each of your steps with the tapping of a ballet dancer and how avoiding the stairs had negated his performance. He scoffed a silent air and just as you were lulled into a false sense of security with his supposed irritation, he hooked your waist.

You trilled happily as he twirled you while offsetting the force. It became a waltz, taken around a stair railing and then down the steps. Your nerves edged your vision, never quite catching your mind as Donnie’s steps were sure ones. He made sure you both took each platform and didn’t stop on the next landing. He followed through, only changing the dance to a faster one and lifting you in the process. You sashayed all the way down to the ground floor where you laughed and held each other.

It came with an eager kiss necessary to offset your bubbling hearts.

You then pulled him, finding his hand, and took him out the building. Onto the road, the light chill in the almost autumn air made you glad for your coat. You squeezed his hand in appreciation and he returned the sentiment as you melded with the pedestrians. They walked around you, setting speed which you both matched as you’d grown up here. In different, but similar enough ways, you knew the flow and wound down to a crosswalk.

A bold man didn’t stop for the light and ran directly into traffic as he thought himself better than it. Cars honked in protest and screeched to a halt. You rolled your eyes at the folly and lingered with the more reasonable pedestrians that valued their lives. A cabbie got out of one stopped car to instigate a fight and the further stop to traffic elicited more honks. It was just another day you thought, until Donnie ripped his hand from yours.

You saw a swoop of motion that you had only learned to catch because of your super-powered mate. His jacket swirled a seemingly threatening black mass as he dropped down low. Fog of him crawled along the ground where a toddler took shape. A mother screamed behind you and the full picture of what was happening took form.

Another car, tired of the cabbie’s pause, had peeled out through a dip in oncoming traffic to get free. A small child had slipped from his mother’s grasp while she watched the makings of a fist fight. The kid was too young to fully understand why he was waiting if the cars had seemingly stopped. He went to cross dutifully and your husband had flown into action to save him.

Time restarted and with it Donnie rounded back to you. He put his carapace toward the road and wrapped up safely to his chest was the happily squealing child. The small one clapped at the apparent play time and the mother shoved you out of the way. You didn’t fault her in a stumble, but Donnie clearly did. He had choice words ready for the woman, but she only reached out for her child with sobbing eyes.

It unnerved your mate who slowly unfurled to offer back the kid.

She pelted him with endless gratitude and clung to her child while admonishing those who threatened him. The kid looked around with wide eyes at whatever was occurring and reached back for Donnie. Your husband looked close to accepting a tiny fist bump, but the driver of the car that had almost hit the kid flew out with a smack of his door.

He shouted if everyone was alright and the mother reared rage on him. As if they smelt chummed waters, the jaywalker and cabbie both entered the foray for their two cents. Everyone was soon faulted and screamed and your poor mate was struggling amongst it all. He stood a pillar on edge from the grating voices and the signal finally turned. A few people who cared little moved and you caught Donnie to sneak away with them. Only the mother noticed, yelling out final thank yous as you continued down the street.

It took a few blocks for Donnie to signal that he had calmed by sending it through your bond. You responded with a contrasting calm to how you felt and immediately steered him into a building. He came with confusion and once you had him barely shielded by some stonework, you hugged into him and let your pride wash over him. He was struck by both feelings, probably a little overwhelming considering, but relented soon enough to hold you back.

He had settled for closed eyes and stroking your spine when you finally lifted your head. He cracked his lids to smile down at you and you leaned up for a quick peck in public. He allowed the brushing of lips once before he straightened his posture. You gave him space and this time he led you to your destination, the park.

You walked there, strolling through the walkways and pointing out leaves that had just started their transformation for the new season. They were few and far between, but some of the green was marbled with the warmer hue change and Donnie collected an especially swirled one for you to admire. You kept it close and he told you about the biological mechanism when an instrument played.

You both located the busker who had attracted a small crowd and the music perfectly back dropped the weather. Your head faintly rolled in tune with the beat and Donnie leaned against your side as a way to translate he was similarly content. The song came to an end and cash was tossed at a case. You bumped your mate to say one ballad was enough, but you noticed his head was trained off to the side. It took a bit of leaning on your part, but you found him locked in a staring battle with another toddler.

You smiled at the baby’s gawking and rounded Donnie enough to see his face. He was the picture of confusion with pinched brows and a hardened gaze. You tapped him lightly to get his attention and he had to double take before he sent bewilderment down to you. You took him in with a smile and a comment about how that was what babies did.

He didn’t seem to believe you and glanced back at where the kid had yet to look away. You knew he would need a demonstration so you held up your hand and cooed with a wave. The toddler immediately shifted his gaze to you and his mouth opened for not quite a smile, but acknowledgement of the tone that it knew was just for them. You continued to beckon with your fingers and added a hello which prompted the father holding them. The man bounced the child and asked them to return the greeting. The child looked back at his parent once as if to check before sending a happy squeak at you.

You giggled and felt Donnie’s gaze fly between you. You then looked up at him and gave a nudge for him to try. His gaze waned with worry before he looked toward the child. The father turned his whole body to address Donnie and you mentally thanked that the man was mutant-friendly. Tucking closer to your mate, you helped him bring his arm up and urged him to wave. Donnie did so awkwardly and the child flapped its arms. The father cheered along and laughed off a thank you before he returned to watching the performance.

Donnie’s gaze plummeted and you checked in with him through your connection. He read a sort of forlorn and you turned up questions as to why. He shook his head and instead asked to continue along. You went with him and tried to stave off your questions. He appreciated it in a glance that said he was thinking of phrasing. You gave him space and people watched as you walked.

Trees cooled the walkways and the chill nipped relentlessly at your jacket. The concrete took on a similarly icy look with blue hues and you yearned for the pockets of sun you could see out near the open plot. You pointed Donnie to go along and he nodded for you to go ahead.

It took another short stretch, but you were greeted with a green lawn that was dotted with people. From picnics to yard games, there was only separation between groups for modesty's sake. Not wanting to intrude, you stood on the edge of the grass and lifted your head so the sun’s rays cascaded over your skin. The warmth poured over you and dripped down into your jacket.

It wasn’t until you were thoroughly toasted that you looked toward your partner. He was posed just as you were and was probably even warmer in his shades of black. He animated at your gaze, first chipping away at his statue to then crumble down with a wry gaze just for you.

You bumped him for the sake of it and he revealed his concerns. It had nothing to do with the child or the man, but instead his own inadequacies. You bombarded him with sympathy until he tucked an arm around you as if you were the one who needed consoling. He spoke to your better record of knowing how to deal with children. You remembered a certain incident that had also been in a park and asked him if this was tied to his lost childhood. He seemed hesitant to agree, but mentioned with a distant voice that he hoped the toddler would have more happy memories like that.

It was a sweet sentiment from what you considered the sweetest man and you told him just that. He spoke a scoff instead of giving one and pulled you close to him with tales of his beastly nature. You responded that even the most ferocious monsters had heirs and joked about movie children. Donnie got a kick out of how some were created and turned a foot out, ready to walk again.

You strolled anew, remembering what you could before you pulled out your phone. You let Donnie guide you as you located an article on such things and told him the more outlandish monster movie kids. He was tickled by your reciting and he moved you every so often to dodge a puddle of this or a dog walker not minding that. You thanked him, reading out the closing statement and were ready to put your phone away when some teens jogged by while talking about how something was this way.

You and Donnie shared an interested enough look before giving lazy pursuit. You lost the kids immediately, but your husband’s hearing was honed. He told you there was something about a pop-up shop and, after walking further down the path leading out of the park, he picked up talk of a food stall. It appeared soon after and trailed a long, winding line.

You headed independently toward the cart, just to get a look at what it was. With a colorful branding, it appeared to be slinging freshly cooked waffles with all sorts of topping. The cooked dough wafted your nose like a cartoon trance. You turned, trying not to float off and found your mate gone. You scanned the heads, knowing he was usually a foot taller than most of them and located him, smarmy, already in line.

You jogged over to him and just barely beat the next person so they couldn’t give you a nasty look. You asked Donnie how he knew and he simply said he didn’t. He explained that he got in line just in case and the worst case scenario was he would exit. You waved him down to kiss his cheek and he obliged with a little sass. You took it as a gratuitous act and bit the plump as punishment.

He rounded on you with a snap of his fangs then laughed with his pearly whites as you’d startled. You swatted at him playfully before asking him about yokai children. With their long life spans, you wondered how that fit into how they chose to have kids. It posed an interesting query to your husband and he was immediately piqued. He walked you through his thoughts and wasn’t quite sure.

It was like listening to research and he stumbled upon new hypotheses as he wove what he knew. It helped pass the time as the line moved at a snail’s pace. You figured waffles, especially fully sized ones being made to order, did take a relatively long time to cook. With many of the people in line having groups that meant each order was more than one and taking up space. The studious queue also spoke to worth so you figured you were in for quite the prize.

Donnie eventually ran out of what he could guess without proper data and conscripted S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. Your son texted back at a lightning fast rate and Donnie read out the responses. It was like being on a three-way call and Donnie delineated your responses with a marker letter from your name. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. pulled data and then got into an argument about birth rates with Donnie for the sake of it. You chuckled fondly at the pair and leaned sideways in line to count about twenty people who were still in front of you.

You appraised them with a bit of a grimace and stepped back into place. Donnie huffed about something being outrageous and put his phone up. You asked if Shelly was in time out and Donnie said that was exactly right. You teased him about being the bad cop parent and Donnie rebuffed being compared to the police force. He complained, teetering on nagging, and the line only moved one space.

It wasn’t him.

It was your bladder.

You had been out for several hours yet and the sun had made quite the trip in the sky. You weren’t really annoyed with your husband, but impatience was wearing on you. You chose to look around him and he churned commentary to try to recapture your interest. You ignored him and located a coffee shop across the street. You supposed you could pay the toll with something to sip on and finally admitted to Donnie what was irking you.

He shook his head at you and urged you to go. You smiled at him, but still took a moment to mention what you were doing to the people in line. The guy behind you that you thought might have been mad only commiserated and wished he could do the same. You thanked him and, with one last check in with your mate, you left the queue and crossed the street.

It was a quick trip as the lights were in your favor. There was only one person at the counter and you kept your pacing in place to a minimum until you could order and ask to use the restroom. You got Donnie something non-sugared to go with his waffle and yourself whatever you liked. The employee took down your name and passed you a key. You jogged off with it and, when you returned, your drinks were already ready.

You took them and headed back for a bit of a lag in crossing. You eventually made it to the right side of the street and saw Donnie in a waiting pattern. He almost looked like an entity that was in stasis when you weren’t around and you slowed to appreciate how silly he was. In stark contrast to him, the mother that stood in front of him was suddenly tipped as her young son yanked her pant leg. She addressed him harshly and it pulled Donnie’s attention.

You watched as the kid yelled and pointed across the street to the coffee shop you had headed to and the mother shook her head in response. You wondered if he also needed to go and you had mistakenly set a bad precedent. Whatever the case, the kid would not stop complaining so the mother searched her stroller.

She bent over and dug, but couldn’t seem to find something and her kid was relentless. He kept yanking on her until she yelled so loud you could pick up her voice. Her son sniveled once at a similar volume before he broke out into a red-faced tantrum. She groaned long and went to wearily mind what was happening when a twin cry screamed out.

You were getting closer now and saw another much younger child in the stroller. She had words for her first son and bent again to grab the younger. She bounced the similarly crying baby on her hip and you could now hear the older one sobbing about how badly he needed to go. Guilt washed over you and you held your drinks tight.

You could always text Donnie to ditch the waffle situation, but the mother shouted a clear agreement that she would take him as if it was a punishment. The child immediately stopped sobbing to instead ask if she was serious and she agreed with an angry tone. She then shared words about how she was not losing her spot after waiting this long and turned her attention to Donnie with momentary malevolence pouring off of her.

In a flash, she shoved the weeping baby in her arms straight into Donnie in a way that made his arms come up to take it. She demanded that he watch her kid for a minute and said he would understand since he was a father himself. Donnie balked and said nothing you could hear in return and the mother didn’t wait a second. She only hoisted a large purse from the stroller before catching her other child’s hand and yanking him across the street.

You walked up in growing awe and found Donnie staring, bewildered, at the child now in his possession. From where the baby had started crying from his sibling, it now only leaked residual mucus as it stared up at its new caretaker. You approached slowly, trying not to startle either party as you inched towards Donnie’s side.

As soon as he saw you he tried to give you the baby before he realized you were holding two drinks. He looked upon them with horror before he jostled the child as if to say that this life was far more precious than what you had just purchased. You appraised him with a long once over before you told him that you agreed with the mother’s position.

Donnie vehemently disagreed, but you weren’t to be pressed. You held the drinks staunchly in your grip and it left Donnie helplessly looking at the child. The kid’s head lolled a little as they looked up and down the person holding them. You heard Donnie whisper what to do and you told him to adjust his support as he was currently holding the baby around the middle like a burger.

It meant he had to pull the child closer, something he was clearly afraid to do. You flicked a quick glance at the state of the line before setting your drinks down. Donnie again tried to pass you the child, but you dodged him. He griped about your stubbornness and you reminded him of his as you caught his arm. In a gentle correction, you got one of Donnie’s arms under the baby’s backside and another behind its back. The child settled against Donnie’s plastron and bopped him a few times as if to make sense of the hard surface.

Donnie watched on in what was rapidly growing into awe and you asked him if he’d ever been near a baby before. He said not one that he’d ever held and you told him to remember what you saw of the father do not too long ago. Donnie hesitated for a long moment and you scooped up your drinks as the line moved a step. You slid the stroller along and when you returned to Donnie’s side, you saw your mate try to rhythmically jostle the baby.

You told him they were soft, but not that delicate and counted out a tempo for him. He bounced the baby in time and the child flailed with interest in the rocking. Donnie puffed out a flighty breath at his success and sent you a watery look. Your heart slammed in your chest and for a blink, you could see him cradling a similar, but different green bundle.

He’d make a wonderful father, you thought right then.

The baby made noise and Donnie’s attention snapped away from you. He couldn’t manage a baby voice, but he asked the child in a hushed tone how they were doing. The baby babbled something back and was unable to keep its voice from pitching. Donnie seemed moved and asked if that was right which delighted the child. They gurgled a few more sounds before they sniffled once. Donnie patted its back and wondered aloud about the earlier crying. The baby had no more to say and hiccupped in response.

Your husband held the child a little closer and you thought about time.

How long you’d been together.

Everything you’d been through.

His past.

Your future.

Children.

It was a constant pillow talk conversation due to his kink. It was also something that rarely left the proverbial bedroom. You vaguely remembered he had once shared a dream of you with a stroller, though he didn’t seem to equate it with what was happening now. His attention was solely on the little one which seemed only like a positive sign. He learned so fast that you had no doubt that he would probably become a better caretaker than you.

Were you ready?

There was a lot to consider.

Life had been peaceful.

Were you ready to disrupt that?

A child would change everything.

The baby burbled sternly to Donnie and he agreed that its mom was taking a while.

The line moved again.

You adjusted the stroller again.

Donnie stepped forward and reached a free finger up to tap the baby. The baby seemed surprised by the green digit and batted at it. Donnie joked about its strength and hypothesized where it would go. From baseball to anything else, he mooned at the many options.

The possibilities were endless.

You wanted to tell Donnie you were ready right then.

You’d do it.

The long miserable nights.

The lack of sleep.

The rewarding excitement.

The nurturing bond.

You’d do it all.

The baby sniveled the bit of gunk on their face.

You’d do it with Donnie.

The child then sneezed with their whole being and snot coated your mate.

For one tense moment, Donnie was totally silent. He had a clear patch of mucus spattered across his cheek and shirt. He moved in a bit of a horrored haunt and leaned down a bit to try to wipe it off. The baby took up the new real estate and smacked directly into the sticky goo. Donnie looked like his soul left his body as the baby’s arm flailed away and with it strang up the snot. 

Your husband then slammed back to earth and pure revulsion painted him. He mouthed for you to help and you waffled with your cups. You were plotting out what to do when you heard the mother yell. You both turned and she didn’t appear mad and instead was just calling attention. 

She took one look at Donnie before she burst out laughing. She then continued to chuckle and say that was how it was as she dug straight into her stroller. The other child hobbled up and looked up at Donnie curiously. Donnie stared trapped between the two and the mother appeared with a baby wipe. She swapped with Donnie, the cloth for the kid, and he immediately tried to clean his face off.

You asked if you could use the cup holder in the mother’s stroller and she heartily told you to go ahead. You dropped the drinks there and then moved to help your mate. He watched on in retching misery as you did your best to clean him. The mother had another wipe ready and more words of gratitude. She then spoke highly on her keen senses and how she knew a good father when she saw one. She appraised your choice in partner as well, casually discarding the mutant thing as nothing to worry about when it came to bagging a good man.

You chuckled and she got the baby back into the stroller. The line moved again and again and you continued your conversation with the woman. Donnie animated after five or six people petered out and lobbed his own question about the snot. The mother laughed about how kids were gross and Donnie listened with rapt attention.

You were getting closer and closer to the front of the line and the woman had switched to showing you pictures on her phone. Donnie was appropriately interested and you only dodged her request to see photos of your son because the waffle purveyor called her turn. She parted from you, sending a final thanks, and the older boy tugged Donnie’s coat.

Donnie chuffed down at the kid who thanked him loudly for letting him poop.

Donnie responded with an equally serious response that these things happened.

The kid ate it up and nodded before turning to get his treat.

You told Donnie what an amazing job he did, but it barely permeated the glowing coat of arms that had been bestowed upon him. He’d been plied with literal and metaphorical praise and you had a feeling today would go down as a memorable one in his mind. When you got to the stand, he hardly could order and you did so for him.

You then found a planter to sit on nearby and ate in relative silence. Donnie sipped his drink and stared out at the view of the line and city bustling around it. He cradled his cup with both hands as if it were something precious and you felt how monumental everything was for him. You rested your head against his shoulder and he breathed nothing but relaxation.

You lingered long into twilight before heading home. You animated as you got closer, talking about dinner plans and what the evening held. Donnie was quiet in contrast, but his buoyant spirit came through your ring. You had nothing to worry about as you got back home. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. opened the door for you on contact and you were wrangling out of your coat as you entered.

You turned to ask Donnie a question, but he was tucked into the door as he closed it.

You tilted your head at him as you hung your coat.

You asked if he was okay and reached for him.

He spun around faster than you could track and caught both your hands.

Words tumbled out of you apologizing, but still you felt nothing but joy from your bond. It was actually teetering toward a scorch and you searched Donnie’s darkened face. His eyes were hooded and he seemed to see only you.

You pressed his well being.

He released the crushing grip on your wrist.

You kept your hands up in the air.

He moved forward, gliding into your space.

His beak neared your nose and darted off to the side.

You mumbled his name and felt your body twist in offering to him.

He took it appreciatively and gave you one last darkened glance before he kissed you.

Your ring finger lit on contact. 

It was then that you realized he’d been masking his intent.

His desire now boiled you alive both from the mysticism and from his kiss. He devoured your lips, moving in a dominating tandem that had you stumbling. He gave you no distance and matched every fumbling step you took. He then caught you, groping straight through your clothes to hit your weakest spots. He kneaded flesh and needed to be closer, but refused to remove the barrier.

It was as if there wasn’t enough time and you could only go pliable for him. He scorched pathways across your body. He turned you, his palms rough against the layers and rubbed you down as if there were no barrier at all. He then pushed, walking your feet forward, straight to the couch. There he caught your hip bones to bend you and your hands flew out.

As if his battle shell were engaged, he had more limbs then seemed possible and he led your elbows to catch the armrest. It was a preparation for him and you panted your willingness. He surely felt it, but you made a wiggle to kick him back and that he allowed. He got a front row seat then as you shifted your weight from one side to the other as you slid your feet apart.

He slammed himself against your back and, with lethal precision, his hand shoved straight down your pants. You groaned for him as he dipped into the musty trapped heat that had already cropped up there in the few pathetic minutes it had been since you started. This was how you reacted to him and he suddenly churred so deeply that it resonated into your core.

You could feel it on your tongue and he shoved his other hand up your throat to turn you to him. Then you tasted the sound as he filled both your upper and lower mouths. You moaned needy for him and, in a one handed shuffle where he refused to release your neck, he shimmied your pants down. With your spread they caught fast, but he refused to let you move. He only allowed them down enough that their hem dipped below your ass cheek.

His hand then disappeared and you heard his fly unzip. He squirmed again, rocking against your ass and pouring more of his weight on your spine. It tipped you to further present so by the time his pants were similarly barely down, his soaked cock emerged to slap your ass.

He whacked it once and twice to get into enough of a position before he slid the length long and blazing across your sex. He sat you on it, letting you encompass his heat with yours and you snapped your legs together, out of his hold, to engulf him. He rutted there, passing the mixing slicks until he growled to his own attention and used the hand on your throat to shove you forward.

You trilled excitement for him and he lined up in one expert pin pullback before he thrust straight and true. You would never get used to the filling brunt of him and each time was a delicious split. You whined your pleasure, but he shoved his fingers into your mouth to stop you. You had the wherewithal to suck and he gnashed his teeth for a wet snap. It was a noise that flickered a tiny amount of fear and he paired it with shoving the full length of his digit down your throat. You immediately choked on the distance and warnings compounded on your tongue before he languidly retracted his cock from you.

It was right when you thought you would gag that he adjusted his fingers to punch out your cheeks and slammed back into your cunt to set a brutal pace. You bit down on his fingers in a roll of your eyes and sort of registered how long it’d been since he was last this rough. There was something there, you thought, but you couldn’t parse out why while your womb was being compacted. The position sent him straight into your walls, but he kicked out further until you were perpendicular for him.

He chased you down there, unable to give up the animalistic rut and battered your ass with the bottom of his plastron. It cut what you assumed would be pretty red stripes now and purple bruise lines later. He tugged on your jaw so hard that drool dripped from the opening and cascaded down his arm. Bits of it dropped dark spots onto the couch and you drearily thought they were pretty.

His other hand had been acting as a safety belt suddenly moved enough so he could reach your joining. He pecked there, curious fingers that got caught in the plowing before he found your clit and gave it a similarly hard stroke. You squawked at the pain and he palmed you, picking up slick to try again without the agony. It thread the line of almost too much, but he seemed keen on getting you to orgasm as fast as possible.

You cried as he tried to tear it from you and you felt the noose wrap around his glans. The rope was pulled taut around the member to further trap him there. He snarled pleasure suddenly as if he forgot he had a mouth of his own and latched onto the side of your neck. His canines pricked you, but he didn’t commit to a full bite. Instead he sat there, locked on, and seemingly tasting every pound of your heartbeat.

His knot inflated in time and he couldn’t go for those long punishing strokes. He buried his cock instead, rolling his hips to make sure your pleasure index stayed high and you squeezed him tight to keep him in place. It was enough for him and he finally removed his hands from your mouth. You gasped immediately sucking greedily on oxygen and delirium like similar gas. It sent shockwaves down to your cunt where he rolled for his more learned stroking of your clit and you gave into a full body spasm as you came.

He couldn’t leave even that alone and chased you there too.

It came with a hydrant of cum that slammed into your reaches then flooded the space with as much of him as possible.

He whined a high pitched noise that stayed steady in the rhythmic release.

He then hunched, moving to grab your hips to make sure they were welded to his and seemingly gave up.

All of his body weight dropped on top of you and you had no hope of holding him up.

It took you both to your knees where his knot kept you locked beneath the bend of your bodies.

You were two animals joined and you weren’t going to be parted until you were good and fertilized.

“Please…”

His voice was so tiny that for a moment you didn’t register it as his own.

You groped uselessly at the floor and he only pulled you tighter to him.

It was like he feared the knot would let go even though it was firmly in place.

“Just once…” He pleaded.

You tried to make a noise, but your throat felt fucked out.

“Just let it take. Just this once… please…!” He begged whatever deity would listen before he collapsed onto his side.

You yelped as you went with him and you both panted there on the floor.

Side by side and in a gangle of limbs, you were the first to gain cohesion and did so with a dry chuckle.

He nosed your head affectionately before he seemed to remember what had occurred and shot up.

He’d been softening, but it pulled his cock from you and the leak poured a lava spill from your sex.

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I… I know exactly what came over me, but I…” He fussed and his gaze flew over you, trying to figure out what to tend to first.

“Baby fever…” You continued to bob with bits of laughter. “Silly.”

He brushed your cheek and probed a question through your wedding band of what he needed to do.

You turned your head in time with him and found a jellied arm to reach.

He helped get your hand to his face and nuzzled it. “My heart, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Let’s do it.”

He nodded and dipped down to pick you up.

“Donnie.”

He hummed a response and cradled you close before hoisting you into his arms.

“Donatello.”

“Yes?” He carried you toward the bedroom.

“Let’s do it.”

“I am.” He didn’t stop on his trek.

“No.” You waited to respond until you passed the threshold.

He switched you to one arm and swept the bed smooth to set you down.

He then appraised how you hadn’t physically fought him as opposed to your language which dictated disagreement 

You felt him test your bond, curious, to see if you’d give anything away there.

You refused and smiled at him.

He watched for one second before he relented and knelt to listen to you.

You took his face and pretended to look him over.

He turned left and right for you before he returned with a softened twinkle in his eye that said even if he didn’t understand, he was happy to do whatever you wished.

You tucked your fingers behind the junction of his jaw and pulled him in.

He met you for a kiss and you allowed only one before you retreated enough to whisper against his lips.

“Let’s have a baby.”

💜NEXT💜

Same as it ever was? My betas are still stuck with me after all this time @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[frozenlight-gvf]

It’s a Scream, Baby: Part Two

pairing: jake x fem!reader x danny

summary: it’s been exactly a year since the first time jake donned that mask for you the night before Halloween, but this time, being true to your favorite horror movie, he’s not alone…

warnings: (18+ MDNI) fear, brief cnc, knives, masks, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, knives, threesome, dirty talk, language, oui oui paris, threats, knives, unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), thigh riding, restraining, did i mention knives? doesn’t even start with fluff but there is aftercare!

word count: 3.5k

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! it’s finally here!!! i’m honestly baffled by how much love the first part got, and it makes me so so so happy to see people talking about my silly little fic lmao anyway i hope you guys enjoy the long-awaited sequel!

***

You sat in the bottom of your closet, keeping your breath as quiet as you could. With the clothes draped around your face, the air was hot and thick and churning with energy. You could feel the blood thrumming through your veins, and the throbbing of your heart made your head spin.

Quiet, calculated footsteps padded up the stairs. You could almost feel the heaviness of them through the floor under you. You hugged your knees closer to your chest and tried to silence the breathless rattling of your lungs.

Earlier that night, you had gotten home to a dark, cold apartment— the opposite of what you’d expected for the night before Halloween, but fitting nonetheless. All the string lights had been unplugged; even the diffuser had choked back its usual steady stream of cinnamony spice. A note on the hardwood floor simply read “Hide.”

A thud from the guest bedroom had sent you fleeing up the stairs, ducking into your closet.

The footsteps grew closer. Your hands went numb as your mind flooded with images of what was about to be done to you.

The closet door was thrown open, sending a wave of cold air through the hanging clothes that shrouded you.

Before you loomed a tall, dark figure cloaked in black. A grotesque white face stared down at your cowering shape.

You slowly stood on shaking legs, not breaking eye contact with those familiar dark voids.

“Found you,” the voice rasped, muffled by fabric and rubber.

A gloved hand wrapped itself around your throat, the rough cotton feeling invigorating against your sensitive skin.

“Found me,” you echoed, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

Your breath caught in your chest; you could hardly contain your excitement.

Your boyfriend, Jake, had indulged you like this a year ago to the day, but this time, he had gone all in— donning the black robes in addition to that iconic mask, instructing you to hide somewhere in the house as he stalked around to find you, knife presumably in hand.

Maybe it was the adrenaline in your blood, or the pitch darkness of the bedroom, or the hand around your neck, or the arousal clouding your head, but you felt more vulnerable than you ever had before in front of this towering figure— and you hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet.

A second gloved hand began trailing deliberately up your side, catching on your clothes as it went, exposing your bare skin inch by inch. His touch was so confident and sure; it’s as if he was claiming you with nothing but his fingers.

Your lips parted in eager anticipation as the hand made its way firmly over your breast, making you shiver. When you breathed his name, the hand around your neck tightened, making you choke on the word.

“Shut up,” the voice hissed, sending a wave of pleasure straight to your core.

With his hand still firm around your throat, he pushed you backwards into the wall, leaning in close. You could hear heavy breathing from beneath the mask. He pressed his body into yours, keeping your back flush against the wall.

“Hands,” he prompted. You obediently held out your hands in front of you, and the man took your wrists and pinned them above your head with his free hand.

You sighed as his knee was shoved between your legs, giving you the relief you hadn’t even been actively seeking. The pleasure was being freely handed to you as you moved your hips, grinding up and down his thigh.

He chuckled sinisterly, the breath escaping him in deriding bursts as he watched you take what you wanted without apology.

“Keep going, slut.”

The word made a soft moan fly from your lips; Jake wasn’t usually one to use ‘slut,’ but it sent a welcome shiver down your spine. You were a slut— grinding on a hooded figure’s thigh as he held you by your throat against a wall.

You moaned Jake’s name again, and the hand tightened.

“He’s not here.”

A grin tugged at your lips once more as your head grew deliciously dizzy. The bloodflow to your brain was now slightly restricted, but you loved that your life was being held in the hands of a man you couldn’t even see. You delighted in Jake diving so deep into this fantasy for you.

The friction against your clit was sending constant shocks of pleasure through you, and it was about to spark into something more. Your mind was clouded in a red-tinged haze as all kinds of chemicals flooded through you. But just before the feeling could overflow, he pulled his leg from out from under you, eliciting a whine from your throat.

“Pitiful,” he spat.

You stared at the white face— practically the only thing visible in the room. You could hardly even see the outline of his shoulders, and there was something in your head that prevented you from reaching out and touching him. Some sort of residual fear that slithered in the crevices of your brain, some hesitation about the fact that Jake had yet to reveal his face to you.

Out of the corner of your eye, something approached.

Your head whipped towards the movement, all thoughts silenced.

The only thing you could see was yet another white face stalking towards you.

Your heart seized. Your breath ceased. The heat of your blood froze to ice.

It hadn’t even crossed your mind— the height difference. It should have been so obvious. This man was so much taller than Jake. But your perception had been completely fogged over in the darkness. The realization shook down your spine like a chill.

The man in front of you, the man with his hands all over you, was not your boyfriend.

The figure to your left removed his mask, and you could barely make out the oh-so-familiar deepness of his eyes and his shaggy brown hair, but recognition swelled within you, crashing down as you whimpered in fear.

You tried to wriggle out of the stranger’s grip, but his body was solidly against yours, and he was gripping your wrists tight.

“Let her go,” Jake said coolly.

The man in front of you didn’t hesitate; he dropped your wrists and backed away, but not before giving you a final shove against the wall. The white face of the mask turned towards Jake. You were left trembling and numb with your hands tucked up against your chest.

Just then, the stranger pulled off his mask, and your jaw dropped. There wasn’t much to see in the darkness, but the outline of his curly hair and the apologetic smile on his face was a dead giveaway.

“Danny?”

Your voice was weak and soft, and your cheeks burned red with embarrassment for having been so scared. Your eyes were wide with confusion as your brain haltingly tried to process what just happened, eliciting a quiet chuckle from both men.

“Listen to her,” Jake said with a grin. “She sounds terrified. Her little brain must be going a million miles a minute.”

Danny stepped closer to try and comfort you, but Jake stretched out an arm to hold him back.

“She’s a big girl, Danny. She doesn’t need to be coddled. Besides, she asked for this,” Jake said, turning to you. “Didn’t you, baby?”

The fear in your blood had started to heat up into excitement. Ever since last Halloween, you had been dropping hints at maybe adding another Ghostface to the mix. You never thought Jake would actually take you up on it.

“Are you happy that Danny’s here, pretty girl?” Jake said with a smirk as his gloved hand raised to cup the side of your face. You could feel his warm breath across your cheek as he leaned in to speak softly in your ear. You nodded, your face still frozen.

The way he was handling you now made you tremble with anticipation for what’s to come. The softness of it all, the tender touches with a demeaning undertone— it all gave way to a night of being held down and marked up.

“Are you gonna be a good little whore and show Danny your pretty body?”

Before your hands could reach the hem of your shirt, you felt a prick of cold steel against your abdomen, making your muscles tense up. You looked down to see a knife glinting in Jake’s hand. Jake smirked as he watched you stutter for something to say. He cocked his head, staring into your eyes.

“I hope you know that you don’t have a choice here, darling.”

With that, after replacing his mask and making sure Danny did the same, he flicked the knife upwards, slicing up the front of your shirt.

Your breasts now exposed in the cold air, Jake took the opportunity to back away, leaving you pitifully exposed and looking desperately back and forth between the two men. Part of you wished you could make eye contact, but gazing into nothing but those unchanging, emotionless faces had you clenching your thighs together. There’s no going back now.

They looked on as you stood there, just taking their lustful stares like a good girl should. You couldn’t do anything but lean back against that wall; you weren’t going to do anything without direct instruction or force. You were entirely ready and eager to comply with whatever they wished.

Jake then lunged, moving like a shadow and attacking the rest of your clothes with his knife. There was no tenderness now; this was depraved. He dug his knife into the waistband of your jeans, pulling and tugging the blade towards him as he worked against the denim. He sawed through the tough fabric, the dull side of the knife scraping against your skin. The only sounds in the room was the tearing of clothes and Danny’s occasional chuckle as he watched on.

He left you in your panties, a cruel tease to leave you needing more. You were soaked, and you were sure that Jake and Danny could see it. Jake then pointed at the bed, the black sleeves of his robe billowing.

“Get on the bed. On your knees.”

You rushed to obey, crawling over the sheets and sitting on your knees in the center of the bed, hands between your thighs. You watched with wide eyes as both boys stripped themselves of their robes, leaving them in their boxers, black gloves, and masks. Jake sauntered over to the window, grasping the rod and twisting so that the blinds slotted open, simultaneously allowing anyone outside to see you in that state and letting in the faint moonlight and the orange glow of a nearby street lamp.

Your eyes adjusted momentarily, but the sight you were greeted with in the dim light made you even wetter. You shifted on your knees as you stared at Jake’s chest, Danny’s arms and his tattoo, and the noticeable bulge in both of their pants. Both you and your cunt were desperate.

“Is she always this obedient?” Danny asked, laughter in his voice, his head turning towards Jake as he tore his eyes from you.

“No. But I think she knows what the both of us are capable of. That it won’t end well if she tries anything.”

The two men then stalked towards the bed, and you were already squirming. Jake took his usual place behind you, and Danny kneeled a foot or two in front of you. You were aching to reach out and run your hands over his arms and chest, but you remained dreadfully still.

“Ok, pretty girl,” Jake said, slowly slithering his fingers into your hair from behind. You melted into his touch, your eyes closing as he massaged your scalp.

A sudden tug yanked you out of your bliss. Your head shot backwards, making your jaw fly open and a pitiful whimper escape you.

“You know we’re not playing nice tonight, right?”

You tried to nod, but his grip on you was too tight. With your hair firmly in his fist, he moved your head up and down. He let out a derisive chuckle as he watched your head shake “yes” by his will.

He then pushed you forward, and you caught yourself on your hands, your face right at Danny’s crotch. You could almost feel him throbbing through his boxers as he watched you look up at him with wide eyes. Jake grabbed your hips with both hands and set you up to be at just the right height for him to grind his bulge into your dripping heat.

You let out a moan as you stared up at Danny’s mask, feeling Jake rubbing into you from behind. You started to push your hips back into him.

When Danny’s fingers closed around your jaw, you sighed, never wanting him to let you go.

”Mmm,” he moaned softly, aroused from just the sight of you looking up at him. “Does that feel nice, sweetheart? He’s hardly even touching you. You want that cock?”

You whimpered a response, letting your chin rest heavy in Danny’s gloved hand.

“Or do you want this cock?”

Danny reached into his boxers with his free hand and pulled himself out. Your eyes crossed as you looked at his cock, long and thick and achingly hard.

You heard him rasp out a laugh under his mask. He clearly enjoyed your bewilderment at the sight.

“Come on… Don’t be scared of it. You want it in your mouth, right? Yeah?”

Before you could even realize what you were doing, your lips were wrapped around his tip, licking mindlessly. The endless voids of Danny’s masked eyes never left you, and a deep moan rumbled from his chest as you nudged him deeper into your mouth, into your throat.

“Fuck— god, her mouth is incredible, Jake.”

“Yeah, isn’t she pretty with a cock in her mouth?”

A sharp thrust from Jake’s hips sent you forward, gagging on Danny to the chuckles of the two men. Your panties were completely soaked through, almost transparent. Jake was showing inhuman patience, and it scared you more than the tip of the knife you now felt dragging down your spine, bobbing imperceptibly up and down with each vertebrae it passed over.

You gasped around Danny’s cock as you felt the pinpoint tip of the knife trail over your panties, teasing right down the middle of your cunt. It landed right at your clit, the slight pressure making you lose your breath. Your body flinched forward slightly, but you were already as far down on Danny as your little mouth could go— any more movement or attempts to escape the knife, and you’d suffocate.

“That’s it, honey, just let me play for a bit,” Jake taunted, gently tapping the flat of the blade against your cunt, relishing in the wet slapping sound. You could hardly breathe, but you weren’t sure if it was the fear, the adrenaline, or Danny’s cock shoved down your throat, unmoving.

You squeaked as the knife dug slightly deeper, and he flicked it so it caught the delicate fabric, decisively tearing it. Jake chuckled derisively, overjoyed at the sight of your bare pussy, dripping wet.

Your eyes shot open wide as the cold metal met your cunt, the tip of knife just barely teasing along your folds, even dipping into your entrance. Every muscle in your body tensed up, including your neck, causing your throat to tighten around Danny. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Jesus, Jake— whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. She just got so tight.”

Ignoring Danny, Jake pulled away the knife, placing it beside him on the bed, to both your and the cock in your mouth’s chagrin. His hand was shaking, as if it pained him to put the knife down. You couldn’t help but want to be impaled by that knife, not caring about any cuts you would get from having it shoved up your cunt.

“Mm-mm. Don’t wanna slice up this pretty pussy before I get to use it. As perfect as she’d look with blood dripping down those thighs, she’d be too loose if we slit her there.”

His words hadn’t even gotten the chance to spill out of your other ear before his cock had sunken deep into you, your pussy pulling him in ravenously.

Danny had begun to move his hips, giving your lungs some much-needed reprieve, as you could now gasp for air whenever he pulled out slightly, but only momentarily as he thrust back in, the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat over and over.

Drool leaked from the corners of your lips as you sucked and licked on him eagerly. Your mouth being filled so thoroughly took the spot of any rational thought in your fuzzy brain.

A sharp thrust from Jake brought your wandering mind right back to him, where it belongs. He prodded at your g-spot, making your thighs quiver.

“Oh, you can’t cum yet, little whore. Don’t even think about it.”

You shook your head, trying to focus on pleasing the two men. Danny groaned above you.

“That’s right, princess. Shake that pesky thought out of that head of yours. Is there anything in that little girl brain of yours now? Hmm? Nothing?”

Your mind was completely blank as Jake and Danny ravaged you from both ends, picking up in intensity as their excitement grew.

“Taking me so good, slut. Fuck… good girl. Choke on it, yeah, baby…”

“That’s it, whore… yes, yes… oh, fuck, yes…”

Their gasped and moaned words overlapped and melted together, creating a perfect breeding ground for your pleasure. You sank into their words and their thrusts and their hands gripping and grabbing at you, letting them take you in every sense of the word.

“Jake, fuck, I need her pussy—“

“Shut up. Cum down her throat, she loves it.”

Danny’s head rolled back, a few inches of his throat now visible under his mask. He let out a guttural groan as his hips stuttered and he painted the back of your reddened throat.

He soon pulled out, making you choke on air as you slumped forward, your back arched and your face against the mattress as Jake was still fucking into you from behind, sending you into a realm apart from this one.

“Aw, is the whore tired? Is she all tuckered out from cock? Was it too much for her to take?” Jake said, his voice breathless and sharp with urgency.

You whimpered into the mattress. Danny stood at the front of the bed, panting as he watched your body rock back and forth with Jake’s tireless thrusts.

“Danny, lift her up— you need to see her face when she cums.”

Danny’s gloved hand sunk into the hair at the crown of your head, and he pulled your face up so he could look right into your fucked-out, thoughtless eyes, but you couldn’t see his.

“Gonna cum all over Jake’s cock, huh? Do you wish you were cumming on mine?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You could hear a blaze of jealousy in Jake’s voice. He was the one buried deep inside you, but Danny was spurring you on.

“Mmm, my cock would look so good covered in you, don’t you think?”

“Danny, I’m warning you—“

“Your pretty cum dripping down my thighs… why didn’t Jake share you earlier?”

What you didn’t see when Danny dropped your head was Jake brandishing the discarded knife, pointing it at Danny.

“Back up.”

Jake’s hips were still slapping against yours even with the knife in his hand. The tension in the air was drenching you with a sheen of sweat.

“This pussy is mine. Understand?”

Danny nodded, his hands up in surrender and a smirk spreading under his mask. Jake then gestured the knife towards your head.

“Face. Up. You should be grateful I’m not making you leave the fucking room.”

Danny once again lifted your head, making you face his mask once more. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, your lips were swollen and glistening, and your face was blood red. The band inside you wasn’t just about to snap; it was about to rip you apart from cunt to crown.

Jake was relentless. His pace was unforgiving, the fingers digging into your hips merciless. Danny’s hands pulling your hair made your eyes roll back in your head. You were nothing but a doll.

“Cum for me, baby. Show Danny whose pussy this is.”

There was nothing you could do to resist; every ounce of fight or resistance had left you the second the closet door swung open. A throaty howl tore from your chest as you imploded, screaming Jake’s name in Danny’s face as your entire body went white-hot numb; the only thing keeping you up were the hands seizing you and squeezing you. Jake kept snapping into you, sending you deeper and deeper and deeper into unbearable euphoria.

“Keep cumming, that’s it… oh, my pretty little whore, yes…”

You didn’t even feel Jake pull out. You couldn’t feel the hands grabbing your arms and flipping you onto your back. But you could see the two distorted white faces with their taunting eyes staring down at you as you faded in and out of consciousness.

Moments, seconds, minutes, or hours later— you couldn’t tell— you found yourself between two warm, sweaty bodies as they stroked and kissed you, masks long discarded on the floor of the bedroom. Hands were in your hair, on your face, your chest, your hips, your thighs; everywhere they could reach. You were being worshiped on all fronts, and it felt divine.

“You did so good for us, sweetheart. Are you alright?” Jake rasped softly in your ear, his breath sweet and soft. You nodded, lounging into their caresses.

Danny kissed your temple and spoke gently. “You sure you’re ok? Does your throat hurt at all?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Of fucking course your throat hurt. Every fiber of every muscle, every ounce of marrow in every bone in your body hurt. But you loved it.

***

TAGLIST:

@spark-my-nature @sunandthemoontwinflames @gvf23 @for-ur-love @hellowgoodbye @starcatcherchords @gretasfallingsky @jakesguitarsolo @ohgodthefeeling-gvf

[stupidthoughtsinwriting]

Glimpse of Us

Summary: Years after the faithful night, reality brings the two back together, with all the years of unresolved pain, feelings and comparisons

Warning: Angst is all the warning I can think off ehehhe, Hard core Angst

Note: ehehehehe the long awaited sequel to She use to be mine is finally here! After what? nearly 2 years. its finally here! I'm so sorry for the long wait and thank you to those who encouraged me to continue on with the next part. I won't dawdle on and let you lot enjoy the concoction i seem to have mustered on. ehehe again sorry for the months delay.

oh and i almost forgot, the italics are best imagined as her singing

P.S. I drafted this post 7 or 8 months after the first part and dear god, how time has passed. Looking back at the story, I'm not really too proud of this one and ended it because I really have no idea how to continue it. I have an idea for a next part (dangerous words coming from me) but I'm not gonna set a date for when I post it because we all know how the last part turned out. Anyways enjoy

😊❤️💛💚💙💜🖤😊 -T

‘Hey, you’re up in five’`

‘Yah sure, just touching up’ you say as you smacked your lips after applying a bit of lip gloss.

‘You don’t need it’ he replied.

‘Still. I can’t believe I agreed to this’ you scoffed, fiddling with your hair for the hundredth time.

‘You’ll do great’ he smiled ‘Now your hair is fine, you look amazing, and I have to go. Break a leg’ he bid before getting on stage to rouse the crowd. Admittedly, you are nervous. You wouldn’t call yourself a singer, but you do have a good enough voice and can hold a tune. You knew it was a mistake singing in front of Harvey and you were only doing this as a favor. God. You checked the mirror one last time before finding it was good enough.

‘Now for tonight’s performance, A very dear friend of mine has agreed to perform tonight, though with a little bit of persuasion.’ Harvey mumbled the last part, getting a laugh from the crowd and a chuckle from yourself ‘She has a voice made by the gods above, though I don’t remember Thor being much of a singer. She can lure you in better than a siren, but I think that’s the other mythology’ he said cheekily.

‘Now, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome a dear friend of mine, Y/N Y/L/N!’ he introduced, that being your cue to emerge from the curtain, you stepped on staged and made your way over to the middle where he and the mic was, the spotlight following your movement. You waved and smiled at the crowd, glad there wasn’t much. Grasping the mic, you chuckled as the small crowd continued to clap.

‘Hi everybody’ you began, getting a hello in response from the crowd ‘Wow, thank you for the warm welcome and thank you Harvey for that unrealistic introduction’ you chuckled with the crowd, turning to Harvey who waved you off.

‘Now, taking something off of Harvey’s speech, I am made by no god or am one. Nor am I a siren from the Greek mythology. It did take some persuading to get me to do this and hopefully I don’t regret it.’ You laughed sheepishly.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you smile shyly. Glancing back at Harvey, with a smile on his face, he nodded, pushing you to continue. Pulling out the rest of the confidence you still had stored, you turned back beaming at the crowd.

‘Now to not keep you waiting any longer, Paul if you will’ you gestured to the man on the piano and he nods before gliding his fingers along the keys, playing the start of the song. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm of the piano before singing the lyrics. Grabbing hold of the mic, you opened your eyes and began.

He'd take the world off my shoulders

If it was ever hard to move

He'd turn the rain to a rainbow

When I was living in the blue

You let your eyes flutter to a close as you gripped the mic firmly. Swaying your body occasionally to melody.

Why then if he is so perfect

Do I still wish that it was you?

Perfect don't mean that it's working

So what can I do? Ooh

Opening your eyes, you scanned the crowd, completely surprised by how the much you can see of the crowd seemed entranced.

When you’re out of sight

You saw you’re your friends in a booth over on the corner, the people entering the establishment.

In my mind

Then the bar where you found him, staring at you. You locked eyes with those beautiful ocean blue orbs that you love loved so much. Stumbling over your words, you nearly forgot about the song but once the piano keys hit the right note, your lips continued in autopilot.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

And that's where I find

A glimpse of us

Eyes leaving contact, you scanned his entirety. The grey streaks at his temples have grown longer since the last time you saw him. The old clean-shaven face he used to don had a goatee. Prominent lines and creases were evident in his features and really the years have aged him well. He wore a suit, complete with a vest, a red handkerchief in the breast pocket and everything. A glass of whiskey at his side and he was still as handsome as the day you left. 

You closed your eyes once more, willing this to just be another trick or hallucination by your imagination. Though it was a horrid idea as memories of the day came back crashing onto you, you let them stay shut as you continued.

And I try to fall for his touch

But I'm thinking of the way it was

There you stood, as beautiful as the day he met you, if not more. In all your beauty, and the signature grin you adorned, you were radiant. Though the spotlight might have something to do with it, you were still a ray of sunshine through the darkest of clouds.

The rest of the world faded out to him and his mind finally faltered. There you were. Standing a few feet away as you introduced yourself. Your hair’s cut short, or at least shorter than the last time he’d seen you. Earrings hid behind your curls and the lightest bit of make-up was applied to your soft features. Though that didn’t hide the blossoming pink tint gracing your cheeks. Your lips glistened with the lip gloss you had on just like you use to. Smile lines drew at the corner of your eyes as you chuckled over your own words, explaining how you ended up in your current situation.

You always smiled, even when you were feeling down, you always smiled. Whether to hide what you were truly feeling or to just be nice to people, you always smiled. He nearly forgot how beautiful that smile was, with only his dreams used to recall that charming grin, since it has been a rarity for him to look you up or even open the box full of pictures during your years together. Even with the picture he kept in his nightstand, he rarely opened the drawer. Funny how this photographic memory of his nearly forgot the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever seen.

He listened to every single word you uttered as he looked and committed every single detail he could of you to memory. Your hair curled into soft waves, parted and pinned on one side. Your frame, fuller since the last time he saw your thin, nearly skeletal figure on that fateful night. You wore a wine-red wrap top that reached down to your wrists, paired with simple jeans and boots, you looked divine. The dip in the neckline of your shirt revealed the top of your cleavage but the gleaming gold necklace is what caught his attention. It was a simple gold bar plate though engraved with a heartbeat on one side. Common and a bit of a cliché now adays but what was special about that was it was an actual heartbeat. His. He gifted it to you when you both got accepted at Metro General. He explained that it was how his heart beat whenever he thought of you. As you tried to find the words to thank him, he made you turn it over to the other side to another engraving. You know I love you so, it said. A line from one of your favorite songs. He remembered how tears brimmed your eyes as you leaped to him, capturing his lip with yours.

What came as a shock to him now was that you were still wearing it. As he continued to look you over, the sound of your chuckle registered in his ears. God, he loves that sound. A sound he hasn’t heard long before you left. Looking back up to your face, he sees the girl he met all those years ago, buried under piles of books in the library on campus. The very same girl that chuckled at his horrible attempt at a flirtatious first introduction. A small smile tugged at his lips both at the memory and the sound. He hasn’t heard that sound in so long, it was a wonder when he heard it last. He just knew it was long before he fucked up and just chose to relish in the sweet sound now.

Now focusing and giving his undivided attention to your voice now, he listened.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you laugh timidly. A chuckle bubbled at his throat as flashes of you singing whilst cooking in the kitchen of your tiny apartment came into view. Wearing nothing but his shirt as you flipped pancakes, singing from Coldplay to Queen at the top of your lungs or humming to Ed Sheeran whilst you worked and studied case filles.

He knew you enough to know that you were nervous, you didn’t have to say it. After all these years he still knew you better than the back of his scarred hands, heck better than he knows himself.

He saw you look to the side and his eyes followed, landing on the host from earlier. With a smile on his face, he nodded, giving you the reassurance you needed to continue with your performance. And it did, he saw how you pulled the last of your confidence before turning back to the crowd.

A pang of jealousy shot through him as he watched. I mean what did he expect, for you to be alone after all these years. A stupidly selfish part of him even hoped that you’d be waiting for him. To get his act together and you’d be back together. It was incredibly stupid; he knew that but that didn’t stop the creeping grip of jealousy from grasping his heart. As much as he knew how selfish the thought is, that didn’t stop the pain and hurt he felt seeing you look for reassurance in another man. Even after all these years.

The smile he had drawn up earlier had faded to a look of melancholy. It was good you had someone, he thought. Someone to be there for whenever you needed them the most, unlike him.

He watched as you turned and gestured to the pianist who nodded and started to fiddle with the keys. He watched as you took a breath, closed your eyes and began to sway to the smooth melody of the music. A small grin was itching at your lips. You were always more comfortable whenever listening to music and this was evident, unbeknownst to you.

Then you started to sing. You opened your eyes, took a firm grip at the mic and the lyrics just came dripping smoothly from your lips. That melodic voice of yours that he loves so much reminded him of the early mornings in the kitchen, the concerts in the shower and the lullabies to the kids under your care. Little did you know but the sound of your sweet voice always comforted him during the hardest times. He didn’t ask you to sing directly but he always listened whenever you hummed a simple tune or sang a song from some Disney movie to calm the kids in peds ward.

He took in every word that came from your lips. From what he’s heard so far from the first verse, it was about how the man lightened and took away the burden and sorrows the singer felt. The way you sang the song, it was beautiful. It was as if you were truly meaning the words that left your lips and he couldn’t help but feel the envy creeping back up at him, though at the same time, he’s conflicted with relief. He didn’t know if you’ve had someone during the past couple of years but as hurt as he is at the prospect of you with somebody else, it sort of gave him a sense of comfort thinking that you were getting taken care off. It eased some of the weight he felt and often times he thought maybe it was good that you separated. All he'd done with you the last few months of your relationship was hurt and neglect you and if you ever found someone that remedied that, maybe it was for the best that you left.

He watched your eyes flutter to a close again. The way your body moved to the melody of the music completely hypnotized him that his drink was deemed long forgotten.

Why then if he is so perfect, Do I still wish that it was you?

At those words, for some reason that gave him hope. He didn’t know if it was just the song but really, just the way you sang it made it seem all too genuine. He still loves you; he knew that very well. He also knows that he had a better chance in coming up with a new strategy in defeating Thanos (despite the many but one failed attempts he saw using the time stone), than ever getting back in a relationship with you.

You are the most kind, caring and understanding person he knew but you were also stubborn. He might have the chance in getting to apologize and to ask for forgiveness, but a relationship was a billion to one cosmic fluke. Though that didn’t stop him from wondering if you meant those words.

You opened your eyes and continued with the song. He noticed you looking at the growing mass of people watching. From the corner booths to the door, he knew from that growing look at your face that you were surprised to say the least at how many were captivated by your performance.

Then you met his gaze. Those soft blues meeting that beautiful shade of your own eyes. God, how much he loved those shining y/e/c orbs could never be put into words. How they twinkle in the light. The comfort and understanding they held and how they always seem to know he felt.

When he woke up from the crash, the first thing he longed to find were your eyes. The warmth, comfort and security they held, he ached to see those beautiful orbs because for the briefest moments he forgot everything but you. You were his main thought. He forgot about the fight, the neglectful months before, the pale, emaciated figure of yours that haunts his dreams, everything. Only the kind, gorgeous face of the woman he fell for all those years ago stayed in his mind because whenever he thought of comfort, the only thing that formed in his head was, no… is you.

He was hurt, in pain, his body ached, he could barely see let alone open his eyes. He needed comfort, he needed you. But when was life ever nice.

Instead, he was met with the fluorescent lights of the hospital room and the horrific sight of the mangled hands that once led a successful career in medicine. There was no warming gaze to be greeted with, only the sad sympathetic ones he now knows to be from the wrong woman and a cold, sterile room.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

You stumbled over your words as you continued to look at each other. You continued singing but your eyes were locked together. Neither of you could look away. Your mouth moved on autopilot as your eyes lost the spark of a flame you had earlier, just like that night all those years ago, replaced by a reflection of the pain and grief he caused. The very same one that haunts his dreams.

A glimpse of us

You finished, your voice fading as the lyrics came to an end. As soon as the piano tuned out, you smiled and gave a little bow at the crowd who erupted in applause before leaving the stage in a hurry. Welled up tears spilled down warm cheeks as emotions and memories continued to riot your mind. After all these years he still managed to make you cry. Why can’t you move on?

You were quick on getting your belongings from the small prep area behind the stage however your plans of a speedy getaway were quickly ousted by the very same gentleman that perpetrated this whole ordeal.

‘You were amazing! The emotion you put in the performance…’ He continued to ramble on, looking past the curtain and to the roaring crowd cheering on for an encore, completely oblivious of his friend’s distraught state. ‘I mean the teary eyes, come on. Doctoring ever not work for you, acting could be something to con…’ he paused after finally getting a glimpse of you, swiftly wiping away tear streaks that ran down your cheeks but the growing redness in your eyes were dead give aways. ‘Shit’ finally piecing things together, he cursed, his attention fully set on you now. ‘It was real. Fuck, are you okay?’ he asked, finding it difficult figuring out what to do, yet a hint of urgency too as he still had to go back on stage.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.’ You swallowed, lying through your teeth. ‘I just… have to go’ you mumbled quickly, giving him a grin in hopes to resemble something as composed as the friend he knew. Though he knew you enough to know you were not ‘fine’, with great reluctance he let you go, rushing to the stage shortly after exchanging goodbyes and promising to check with him later.

As your friend went back on stage, you quickly took a survey of your appearance on a nearby mirror, making sure you didn’t look as dreadful as you felt. The bit of makeup you had on survived, however your eyes weren’t as forgiving being red. Nevertheless, you sped out to leave.

Considering your options, your only available exits were the front or back door and wanting to avoid individual who has left you in this state (just by being present), you turned to the corridor that lead to the back door but as unfortunate as you were, the exit was blocked by men hauling in delivery shipments and by the looks of things they weren’t going to be done any time soon.

You were antsy enough as it was and waiting by the second for them just added to your agitation. You really needed to leave now.  A lump was lodging itself on your throat and the air around you seemed to be thinning. You need to leave NOW.

Swallowing all the anxieties you had, you had no choice but to rush out the front. You stayed on the side, avoiding the patrons and the one in particular perched up at the bar but unlucky you (your luck really seemed to have vanished really), the man saw your abrupt departure, unbeknownst to you.

You made it out to the street and the open air was a fresh welcome, letting you finally breath, whereas the establishment you had left felt suffocating.

You thought it was done. That the lump in your throat would finally dissolve as you walked down the street, thinking that you had successfully avoided the now famed sorcerer of New York. The hero, Doctor Strange…

but when was life ever good to you.

‘y/n…’ he breathed out, catching the sight of you sprinting toward the doors he entered only moments before. It pulled him out of his reverie, wondering if he should talk to you, what he’d talk to you about, an apology perhaps, contemplation of your years together, however the sight of you pulled him out like it always did, especially in the beginning. He sometimes had the tendency to be too deep in thought, he’d ignore everything and everyone in his surroundings, but he always caught you. Your scent, your voice, let alone your image, it always drew him from his stupor. 

Now the sight of you cemented his thoughts.

Downing the last of his drink, he pulled a bill from his wallet and slammed it down the counter without so much as a look onto how much it was before he scurried out, chasing after you. (Like he should have done all those years ago)

He called out your name once he reached the sidewalk, turning left and right in search for you. The street wasn’t crowded much so it was easy to spot the figure stood still a few yards away to his right. With the last few rays of the dying sun and dim streetlight, he made out the curled head of hair the same shade as yours the figure had, and he just knew it was you.

‘Y/N!’ he nearly shouted, causing a few heads to turn in his direction but not yours. You kept your back to him as he sprinted your way. He knew you heard him. You would have kept on walking had you not.

It only took a second to reach you and when he did, he hesitated, not knowing what to do. He wanted to reach for you and plead for forgiveness. On his knees if he had to. Instead, he opted for another call for your name, hoping you’d finally face him.

And you did, after dropping your hands to your side, he heard a small sniff before you turned to him with your gorgeous smile and said (in a somewhat forced cheer in your voice)

‘Stephen. Hi’

‘Hi’ he replied densely. You idiot, he thought at how stupid his response was.

A silence fell over you both as Stephen canvassed your entirety now at a closer distance. He took in every graceful line, freckle and strand of hair he saw to memory. Every little detail he took in was as important as every breath he took. How bloodshot your eyes were didn’t go unnoticed though. Puffy around the eyelids from crying, red possibly from -he guessed- how hard you were rubbing them just before he reached you.  

Surprising thing is, it still broke his heart seeing the distress you so clearly were trying to hide. The thought of tears running down your cheeks, was illegal. They had no business in gracing your face yet, he can’t help but realize that he just keeps being the reason you were left in that state. Where were all these sympathies back then? He asked himself, the very night flashing through his mind.

‘Stephen’ you said again, taking him out of head again. He missed that though. His name coming off your lips. It brought him back to all the mornings with you in bed, tangled in sheets as the morning glory woke you up and you woke him up with that honey sweet voice with the say of his name. Stephen

‘Sorry, um…’ he coughed, trying to piece a sentence, words, anything really that didn’t end in three syllables.

‘You were wonderful’ he finally managed, okay that’s five ‘Back there at the bar…. you were amazing’ like always, he wanted to add but stopped himself, pointing back to where he just left.

‘Thank you’ you muttered, nodding your head before leaving it down to look at your shoes. The way you responded lacked any sort of confidence, as if you didn’t believe his words or yourself. Truthfully, you were never really the most confident, even back then but always did step up when the situation needed. Either that’s the reason or you didn’t believe him, which considering his case, why should you.

Your hands were fidgeting, he noticed. Running and marking the bones of one hand with your fingers tips before your nails would start to pick on skin. This was something new to him. A new nervous habit of yours he hadn’t known before, so it was most likely picked up after your separation.

The person in front of him wasn’t the same one he knew all those years ago yet, still so similar and the same. He remembers everything about you, so if anything of the woman he knew back then was still in there, he knew by how you were acting that you were uncomfortable, agitated.

‘Really, you were amazing’ he affirmed, really wanting you to believe him, or at least to believe how wonderful you really are. ‘Truly, but are you okay?’

He’d done it. Ask that stupid question and that’s what broke the dam, causing the river to run past it with no mercy.

He heard a laugh at first, your hand raising towards your face. The sound bordered on maniacal, nothing like the one he loved but familiar enough to know he has heard it before. Slowly, your head rose, your hand half covering your mouth, half wiping away the rivers that flowed down your cheeks. The sight finally triggered the memory he was looking for. It was all too similar to that night, it felt like déjà vu.

‘um’ you started, finally managing to say after that little fit ‘I could lie but what’s the point? No. I’m not. I’m not okay because you’re here. Fuck, I actually thought that I could get away from this but no, evidently not.’ You tried to reason, looking him straight in the eyes ‘Christ Stephen, I was okay. I was okay when I was singing, I was okay ten minutes ago but then you just came out of no where and now I’m not okay. I’m never okay whenever it comes to you. Not anymore.’ You spit like venom, unrelenting in your streak to get out all your pain because of him. ‘I thought I could be civil but… I-I’m tired. I’m sorry, I’m gonna go. Enjoy your night’ you hurried, saying your goodbyes and turning your back to him to walk away. You would have gone had he not called you back in such a pleading tone.

‘please’ he begs and for some reason and it compels you to listen. You halt your steps, you don’t turn around, but you do wipe away your tears and he takes that as his chance to apologize for everything. 

‘I’m sorry.’  He starts, his own eyes teary ‘I’m sorry for everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and it…’ he swallows that lump in his throat, trying to get the rest of his words out ‘it haunts me every day. You’re the kindest person I know, and I took you for granted. I was an arrogant piece of shit, too self-absorbed to even notice that the woman I love was working herself to death.’ You start to turn around ’You were the purest thing I knew and you didn’t deserve the monster I was. And I am so sorry for who I was then. I’ve changed or I’m trying to change, to be better than- than that monster that hurt you and I could only hope for your forgiveness because, you were always someone I never wanted to lose, and I did. By a stupid mistake and horrible decisions.’ His tears start to run, and you finally face him ‘I never wanted to let you go but I was hurting you more than I was loving you and I understand if I don’t get your forgiveness but, I am sorry. I am so sorry for hurting you. For taking you for granted. For not treating you how you deserved to be treated. For everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and hearing myself admit this… really just proves I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need you to know that I am sorry. I’m really sorry for what I did and that… that you deserve.’

You stare at him with tears running down both your eyes and he sees the same urge to wipe them away, in you. The hesitant twitch of your arm as if by instinct, to move and act on the need to clear away his tears and comfort him. At least that’s what he interprets the move of your arm because that’s exactly what you would have done, that’s exactly your character and he wants to do the same. To dry away your tears and take you in his arms in respite.

But you act against those thoughts, only balling your fist as some form of control. You stare into him, as if gauging to find the lie in his words yet there is none and he sees something in your eyes that he can’t explain before they dart away. He watches as you scan your surroundings, looking at the people likely to be watching you both but he didn’t care for them. He only cared about you.

When your eyes turned back to him, you closed them immediately, face scrunching as you desperately tried to hold back to tears but to him, it was as if you were so pained by the mere sight of him. He’d be lying if he said that it didn’t chip away a piece of his heart. 

Your head bowed for a bit as you tried to compose yourself but the words that left your lips once you rose again, only broke more of his heart.

‘You’re forgiven’ you were quick to say before turning back and walking away from him. He watched with wet cheeks, as you sped away from him, and he kept his gaze on you until you disappeared around the corner and then you were gone.

For what seemed like forever, he kept his eyes on that street corner, hoping for something that won’t happen. He knew that whatever he wanted wasn’t going to happen, but a man could hope, right? Though hopes are as easy to diminish as they are to ignite. Grief and disappointment, they tend to last.

The sun had set and streetlights and buildings are all that lit the side walk where Stephen stood. A man well known to the people and thus, there were those who were bound to watch the spectacle put on by the hero. Small crowds had formed over time as they watched the powerful sorcerer confess to the dreadful things he’s done to some doctor from before his fame, asking for forgiveness to all the terrible things he’s done.

To new passersby, they’d wonder why a hero of the city stood so stiff, looking at oblivion. They’d wonder for a minute without context before walking away with a shrug, figuring much more important things to think of.

Eventually, the crowd thinned to a trickle, til the lone man was all that remained the lone street, wondering what he had done to deserve you.

A/U: I've read this way too much to do a final proof read so sorry for all the grammatical mistakes and spellings and all that. Thanks for the read though

I'm hoping that the people who asked to be tagged don't mind me tagging them this late in the game and I hope you liked it. Hopefully it was worth the wait @strangesweetheart @evelynrosestuff @vesta-ro @doodle-cat16 @nabiilahadid @evansmusk @circe143 @dracoflaco

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Not to poke a hornets nest but have you seen the song titles for Swift's new album? They're truly beyond parody at this point

god okay.

Fortnight (feat. Post Malone) - risky title on account of Fortnite, but not actually wrong or bad. only point of interest here is the presence of Post Malone, which is... interesting.

The Tortured Poets Department - I mean this one is obviously terrible. I think someone as big as Taylor Swift probably shouldn't be allowed to release an album called the Tortured Poets Department regardless; this shit would be weird and off-putting from anyone but, like, Lana Del Rey, since that's sort of her entire brand and always has been. but fresh off a year in which she was maybe the most inescapable aspect of all of popular culture? shut up, Taylor. when were you a tortured poet? was it hard having the biggest tour of anyone ever? being responsible for more co2 emissions than some small countries? I'm so tired.

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys - this is the title of a song that's made to be played while hyping up booktok's dark romance darling of the week

Down Bad - okay

So Long, London - the long-awaited sequel to London Boy, which was bad

But Daddy I Love Him -

Fresh Out the Slammer - do it, Taylor. do a blaccent. I dare you.

Florida!!! (feat. Florence + The Machine) - no one in their right mind should be this excited about Florida. also god can someone please get Florence out of there.

Guilty as Sin? - I don't actually have anything mean to say about this title but the question mark is an odd choice

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? - god this album really is going to be reputation 2.0. anyway this is so nitpicky but I really do think having two songs in a row with a question mark at the end looks goofy.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - stop it stop it stop it stop it you are a JOKE

loml - lol. lmao even.

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - sure. fine. this one is fine, whatever.

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - [insert obligatory Ben Shapiro joke here]

The Alchemy - okay

Clara Bow - honestly? tentative interest. Taylor's narrative songs have been the only ones I've found halfway tolerable for like the last five albums. sure, Taylor. tell me your thoughts on golden age hollywood starlet Claa Bow.

The Manuscript - sure

[eregyrn-falls-art]

Stan and Ford and the Cornstalk Men - an update!

The Cornstalk Men are a fall tradition that I've missed seeing in person for the past couple of years. I first did this sequence where Stan and Ford encounter these New Jersey... beings? cryptids? creatures?... back on Halloween of 2017. Decided on the spur of the moment to update them; 5 years is a long time in art evolution! Below is some of the original text and other links.

In October of 2017, I first posted about encountering these giant cornstalk men while driving on a minor highway through New Jersey farmland.  Although I didn’t go into it at the time, I was driving on a really grey day with fog persisting through the morning, turning the surrounding fields and distant trees into ethereal vistas.   Which made coming upon these faceless giants all the more eerie, despite it being a busy highway (and them basically being roadside advertising for a garden center.)

Some folks commented suggesting that these were propitious figures, forest spirits (or… spirits of the field, I guess?) or otherwordly sacrifices for a good harvest.   Sure!  Why not. As I said before, this seems like some major Over the Garden Wall shit happening right here.

(As noted in the original post, these things are gigantic. Those are novelty giant Adirondack chairs, They've got to be at least 10 feet tall, even sitting down.)

It seemed like just the kind of thing that Ford would insist they go investigate!  

Though, he and Stan were never very familiar with the more farm-oriented parts of New Jersey.  Stan is obviously dubious about the whole thing; including after the Cornstalk Men show up.  As it turns out, they’re perfectly friendly, if a bit inscrutable, and happy to at least try to answer Ford’s questions before whatever fate awaits them on All Hallow’s Eve. (The original version was posted on Halloween.)

BONUS:

(Stan has already fucked off across the road to a farm stand where they are selling five different types of pie. He is less interested in witnessing eldritch harvest rituals, and more interested in making sure he keeps them both on schedule for the Skype call later to see what the niblings have dressed up as this year.)

I did eventually do a sequel, in GF style, in which they do bring Dipper and Mabel to meet the Cornstalk Men. (That was posted on Thanksgiving 2018, which is why I now associate these posts with Tgiving.) And here is the original version, from 2017.

Anyway -- hope everyone's day has been as good as it can be. I know the holidays can be stressful for a lot of people. I'm about to heat up some dinner, and begin my now-annual rewatch of Over the Garden Wall.

[lilyletham]

Heart-Shaped Box

hiiiii! I finally finished my long-awaited sequel to 'A friend on Thanksgiving'! I may have gone a little overboard with it, though. This has not been beta'd and I've gone over it a few times for errors but if there's any stragglers, all mistakes are my own. Happy Valentine's Day <333 Words: 1.6k Pairing: Jacob Palmer(Crazy, Stupid Love) x reader - wording is very gender-neutral, total reader insert Content description/warnings: Inebriation from alcohol, angst, vomiting, some mild fluff

Over time, the two of you grew into a casual and relaxed friendship. There was sometimes a slight fluttering under the surface, perhaps an echo or a whisper of something more, but neither one of you ever acted on it, as it seemed to disappear just as quickly as it surfaced. Jacob came off especially distant in the days approaching Valentine's Day. While he's had plenty of temporary company in his bed on that holiday in the past, it didn't soothe the lingering loneliness forming at the center of his chest when he thought about it.

You were surprised then when he declined your invitation on the 14th to hang out, watch cheesy movies and eat takeout. It was practically a weekend ritual with him at this point. He mentioned he had a date and promised to make it up to you later. Without much further thought about it, you left him to enjoy the night while you curled up on your couch and browsed Netflix. You binged-watched an entire corny B-movie trilogy before your eyes started to get heavy and your belly was full of snacks. You checked your phone, 1:44am.

You wrapped your fleece blanket around yourself and closed your eyes. Just as you started to drift off you're startled by a shuffling sound approaching your door and the jiggling of your doorknob. You also heard…singing? Very off-tune singing. You got up and checked the window and sure enough, Jacob was wobbling in front of your door, singing Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana(or attempting to anyway), trying to insert his house key and confused as to why it didn't work; every other lyric of his song replaced with a mumbled 'fuck' and 'goddamn lock'. He must've thought he was at his house. It would almost be adorable if not for the fact that you really didn't want him to destroy your door attempting to jam his key in.

You opened the door and he very nearly stumbled forward onto the ground, as he was leaning on it with his key in his hand. He looked at you bewildered.

"What…wait…what are you doing here?" He slurred, eyes glossy and unfocused.

"Jacob, this is my house. You're at the wrong door." You replied, trying very hard not to laugh at him.

He squinted his eyes tightly and tried to focus his vision, looking around the outside of your yard and then inside your front door. "Are you sure?" He looked down at his house key and the change in perspective caused him to sway, and he gripped the door frame tightly to keep himself from falling down.

You held onto his arm to keep him steady and he absolutely reeked of alcohol. He was much more intoxicated than you realized, and that was going to be a problem. He could barely stand on his own, so you draped an around around him and reluctantly took him into your house, closing the door behind you. You peeled off his white jacket and the both of you hobbled to the couch. He felt like a rag doll as you plopped him down on the cushions, and he landed with an 'Oof' and a very un-serious giggle.

"What happened to your date?" You huffed, recovering from dragging a drunk grown-ass man across your living room.

He laughed loudly, the sound unable to contain its bitter tone. "I s'got ghoshted…at s-thuh barrr…" His words were mushed together and mumbled. "Shtupid…"

Ouch. Ghosted on Valentine's Day? That's harsh. You leaned over him laying there, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, and then you saw it. His face went lax, his complexion paled and he started to heave. Oh, oh no. You rushed to your kitchen to grab your garbage can and flung off the lid, bringing it to him, thanking your lucky stars you replaced it earlier. He unceremoniously rolled over on his side, grabbed the trashcan and violently emptied his stomach contents into it. You winced from how bad he was coughing and gagging and spitting. After a few more unproductive retches, he groaned and put the can down, laying back on the couch with his arm over his eyes. He seemed too embarrassed to look at you.

"Are you okay?" You asked as you got up to get him a glass of water, returning to him swiftly. He gratefully drained the glass and handed it back to you.

It seemed the puking helped to sober him up slightly as his response was much more coherent, "I'm sorry I'm such a f-fucking loser." He pushed out, his voice cracked from a combination of his forceful heaving and his emotions. His eyes were already watering from throwing up, but you watched as they welled up again, threatening to spill over.

"Aw, no, you're not a loser. The person who ghosted you is a loser." You reassured him, and he looked up at you with upturned brows, like he's unsure if you really mean it or if you're just being nice. You sensed his insecurity and put your hand on his shoulder. "I mean it, really. It's their loss. You're a great person Jacob, I want you to know that."

He choked back a sob and reached out to hug you, and despite him smelling like a minibar, you wrapped your arms around him and let him rest his head on the crook of your shoulder. The fluttering feeling returned in your stomach, and you tried hard to ignore it, pushing it down. After a few more seconds of sniffling, he brought his head up to look into your eyes, searching. You wondered if he too felt the same feeling just now.

"I should have just stayed here with you." He said softly. You weren't sure if it was simply a statement or a confession of some sort. When he leaned toward you, you had your answer. His eyes looked full of hope and yearning, and you very nearly let him close the gap when his eyes went wide and he quickly turned his head, heaving into the trashcan once again. You're reminded of where you are and the moment passes. You rubbed his back in soothing circles while he rode out his nausea, head buried in the can between his legs. Poor guy.

When his vomiting subsided you got him more water, some Pepto and encouraged him to relax and lay down on the couch to rest. By the time you replaced the garbage bag in the trashcan, he was completely asleep, snoring softly. You wondered if he would remember anything about tonight, or if he even really meant to do what he did. You couldn't help but sleep out in your living room on your lounge chair because you wanted to keep an eye on him. After you've determined he's probably going to stay asleep, you do the same, trying to relax and get even a few hours of rest from this chaotic Valentine's night.

It was late morning when your eyes finally opened. Your back was stiff from the awkward position on the lounge chair and then you remembered what transpired the night before. You noticed that Jacob was nowhere to be found, and his jacket was no longer hanging from the coat rack on the wall near your door. He must have left while you were asleep. There was a little part of you that missed him even though you just spent the previous night watching him cry and puke in equal measure. Thoughts swirled in your head about whether or not he remembered trying to kiss you, but you figured it would be for the best to not even bring it up. Alcohol can do a lot of things to people, especially someone freshly heartbroken and vulnerable.

You got up to start your day as usual, debating whether or not to get some discounted Valentine's candy for your stash. As midday rolled around you heard a knock at your door. When you opened it, you were met with a lovely bouquet of flowers. Jacob peered around the colorful arrangement in his hand to sheepishly greet you. He looked tired and definitely hung over, but he thankfully had time to shower, change and brush his teeth.

"Hi. I'm sorry about being a drunk idiot last night and puking." He chuckled. So he did remember that part.

You smiled and took the flowers. "You're fine. All's forgiven. How do you feel?" You don't know why you even asked, he looked like shit and both of you knew it.

He humored you and grinned. "Like my head got thrown in a cement mixer. Do you have any Tylenol?"

You knew damn well he probably had painkillers at home but you let him in anyway, gesturing to follow, and he smiled. You told him where it was in your medicine cabinet and as he fetched the pills for himself you put the flowers in an empty vase. When he returned you watched him casually move about your kitchen, navigating your space comfortably as he filled a glass with water and took the pain reliever. It was as if he felt at home with you. You weren't sure why you hadn't noticed it before. Perhaps you just weren't paying attention. You locked eyes with him and you realize it-- he remembered everything. There were those butterflies again.

A beat passed, and then another. He tentatively approached you, setting down the glass on the counter and resting his hand on your waist. Slowly, he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. It was feather-light, experimental. When you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around him, all apprehension in his mind dissolved.

[misfitclassismyfreetherapy]

Mairuma Incorrect Quotes #3

.

.

The long-awaited, the sequel of a sequel, ✨ Mairuma Incorrect Quotes ✨Get ready..*finger guns* to be disappointed!

.

.

Mairuma Incorrect Quotes #1

Purson: Lied? Ah hell no he's definitely not straight.

Camui: As much as I agree he doesn't really look like a demon who only has one gender attraction however, he never really shown any other type of gender other than the wonderful females.

Purson: Fine. Bet.

Moments later

Purson pointing in a random direction: Lied! Look it's Opera-sensei being shirtless!

Lied immediately whips his head around: Where?!

Camui:

( Yes, how did Lied-kun realize he isn't only bisexual? Opera. No need I say more.)

Mairuma Incorrect Quotes #2

Kerori, literally not getting any sleep because of her akudol career: My fucking mixed complex is so weird and a pain in the ass too, like I could literally be bawling my eyes out on the floor and writing depressing inferiority lyrics, and the next second I could be boasting about my cuteness being as superior as Delkila.

Agares, just trying to get some sleep because it's fucking 3 AM but not wanting to be a prick to his best friend finally opening up: Uh-huh.

Kerori, unconciously pining over a girl she often rejects: Also Gyari, she is such an unbelievable asshole. Like she says she wants to give me some of her company's Vill because she said 'you should rest, Kerori. My beautiful gem must be at her very best for me to be happy making you mine.' like fuck you, that shit you just said made my brain turn into mush and now I can't stop thinking about it you rockhead bastard.

Agares, covering his ears with his pillow not wanting to hear the hopeless pining for the hundredth time: Uh-huh.

( 💫 Agares and Kerori, the tsundere duo because it's literally my drug 💫 )

Mairuma Incorrect Quotes #3

Asmodeus, speaking to himself : Listen here, Alice. You don't want to have a stain on your honored position as Iruma-sama's soulmate. So you shall NOT allow your insufferable feelings get the better of you.

Iruma, does something Iruma-like:

Asmodeus, being incredibly in love: Fuck.

Mairuma Incorrect Quotes #4

Ronove: You're just like me!

Zeze: Oh I can see~

Ronove and Zeze singing together dramatically: We take responsibilties~

Vine, mumbling in a corner about shiny people being way too sparkling: Oh derkila, TWO of these types now?

The rest of the student council except Ameri, realizing that they're gonna have another version of Ronove: Aw fuck.

( Student council shenanigans because I can.)

Mairuma Incorrect Quotes #5

Misfit Class: We finally have a plan.

Balam: As long as it doesn't get you illegally in trouble

Misfit Class:

Balam:

Lied: FUCK! We planned this shit for two hours already!

.

.

.

So yeah that's all. I decided to be nice and give them a break on the dark humor and trauma thing. Don't expect this to be your usual. This is one-in a life time sorta thing. Anyways I hope you enjoyed my post and have a good day or night guys, gals and non-binary pals!

[disastercit]

(even more camp camp season 5 teaser spoilers but this time is the last time probably, I'll just watch the whole thing and put my thoughts here)

-so cj is like some kind of dudebro influencer streamer type, I wasn't too far off. cj seems like the type of guy to carry a tiny microphone around a mall and interview people 😭 and I definitely get to have my little dynamic I predicted before because ross WOULD hate him for that

-on the topic of cj I don't know how I missed his mullet oopsies

-mahogany 😏

-i have a lot to say about this image actually. I screenshotted it so I could talk about how max is willingly hugging another person, I wanna say it's only the second time in the series he's done this? but then while looking at it I noticed neils earring?? he went to claires?? and he either only has one or gets them pierced at some point during the season

-also I just think it's funny that max is still freaked out by harrison like 2? 3? seasons after Mind Freakers. poor boy

-space kid??? hello???

-I see they finally got tired of animating prestons weird little shoulder things and did away with them entirely. im guessing the reason for his new outfit is that hes getting more into modern musicals and leaving behind the shakespearean stuff? I haven't seen newsies but it's very newsies to me. hey, this gives me an excuse to use the new ross design anyways I guess

-the long awaited sequel to the extremely detailed bread basket: extremely detailed popsicles

(come to think of it, here's neil without an earring again. maybe a one episode thing? also, idk why this screenshot is so dark)

final verdict: we are so back!!! I heavily enjoyed this promo and now I am so excited about this season. I wasn't sure I was gonna like this season, either due to it actually sucking or because the last time a new season of camp camp came out I was fourteen years old. but clearly I must like it if I just wrote a whole analysis of like every other scene in the teaser. really my only regret is that the season, or at least what's coming out at this time, is so short

[miscellaneoussmp]

This is a product of pure brainrot! Also, this is a sequel/companion fic to First time (Second time)! Anyway, here's Pac being covered in blood and thinking (cw/tw: blood mentions throughout and implied/referenced violence):

Pac wouldn't say he's scared of blood. He could never admit it aloud. Instead, he would compare it to being drenched in cold water unexpectedly. It sends a shock down his spine and forces air into his lungs. The only difference is the temperature, really. Pac finds himself grateful for and despising his present, past, and whatever awaits him in the future. All at once.

It's not his blood. Not this time. He's been drenched in his own blood before. His heart is racing as much as that time. His ears are filled with static just like back then. Pac did it. He finally did it. The blood he's covered in isn't his. It feels good. Does this count as revenge? Does he even want revenge? It feels good, but he also feels empty, almost. Pac is covered in blood that isn't his, and he's still standing. He finds himself grateful for and despising his past, present, and whatever awaits him in the future. This is different. It's different from times before. Does this even count as revenge? He feels so alive. Didn't he bleed out back then, though?

Pac didn't even get a chance to wash the blood that wasn't his off himself. He's covered in his own blood again. He didn't get a chance to clean the blood off himself, a skill he's managed to develop. He hates how useful it's been. He regrets and is glad for his past, present, and whatever awaits him in the future. This situation feels so familiar. He's been here before. His heart is pounding in his chest, desperately trying to keep him alive. Running on pure adrenaline. His ears are filled with nothing but static, but the screams aren't his. He's covered in his own blood. This situation is so familiar. The difference is that he isn't being held down against cold concrete. He got his revenge. Did he even want that to be revenge? He's bleeding out, like he did all those years ago.

Pac isn't scared of blood. Not really, as it's something he'd never admit aloud. Instead, he'd compare it to the lights being turned on too quickly. It disorients him, and it takes him a bit long to realize where he is.

Pac is scared of blood. Maybe he should admit aloud. It feels like being drenched in cold water unexpectedly. It feels like when the lights are turned on too quick. It feels like a panic response, one that developed in an instant and over years. Pac is scared of blood. He thinks he could finally admit it aloud.

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: The Epilogue, Version One

The long-awaited sequel!! I’m reading the Epilogue as it appears in “The End of the Third Age”, from The History of The Lord of the Rings as compiled by Christopher Tolkien.

Tagging @lady-merian because she’s been asking for this for a LONG time 🤣

Manuscript A

It’s interesting that “well, I’m back” wasn’t originally supposed to be the end of the story. It’s become something iconic now—the perfect, hauntingly understated ending, harkening back to “there and back again”—but the only reason it seems so abrupt is because Tolkien actually meant to write on.

I like both, honestly. This Epilogue has so much good stuff in it, but it would make an already slow book even slower; “well I’m back” is lovely for what it is. ^-^

“Elanor 15, Frodo 13, Rose 11, Merry 9, Pippin 7.” Just looking at their names and the list of ages gets me in the heart. Argh, I love these kids ;u;

Sam resting by the fire in this study! And he’s surrounded by his kids! And they’re listening to him read the Red Book!! AAAHHHHHH

“…And there was Frodo-lad on the heathrug, in spite of his name as good a copy of Sam as you could wish…” D’aww 8-D Named Frodo, looks like Sam. That’s adorable.

AND THERE’S GOLDILOCKS AND HAM AND BABY DAISIE AND—

*strangled screech*

SAM. CALLS ELANOR. ELLIE.

I’M GONNA HECKIN’ CRY

Confirmed that Merry and Pippin traveled to Gondor and Rohan multiple times in their lives! That’s wonderful!

And now: the Gamgee children being carbon copies of their namesakes begins.

Merry Jr. is inordinately proud of Merry Sr. and wants to grow tall like him.

Pippin Jr. is likewise inordinately proud of Pippin Sr. and insists that Merry isn’t the tallest anyway.

“Is he Prince Peregrin away down in the Stone City, dad?” Oh my word.

First of all: the fact that this little hobbit lad knows Minas Tirith familiarly enough to call it the Stone City.

Secondly: I mean they did call him a prince of the halflings at first—

Frodo Jr. wants to hear about the spider again because he likes the parts where his dad comes in ;u;

And Elanor wants to know about the flower she’s named after!

Elanor: I want to go see my flower! Sam: There’s a prettier one if you look in a mirror. Elanor: Daaaad…

Rose Jr. is worried about the elves going away TT-TT

Sam is secretly very proud of the Mallorn tree in the Party Field LOL

Legolas lives in Ithilien! And Pippin says they’ve made it very lovely, which means he’s seen it! WHICH MEANS PIPPIN GOT TO HANG OUT WITH LEGOLAS AND FARAMIR AND BEREGOND AND BERGIL AGAIN—

Frodo Jr. loves Gimli and wants an axe LOL

Gimli and his dwarves helped to rebuild Minas Tirith! And now they live in the mountains behind it!! And he goes to visit the Glittering Caves every two years! Tolkien thought of EVERYTHING

And nobody knows if anyone’s seen Treebeard lol

ROSE JR. LOOKS FOR THE ENTWIVES WHEN SHE GOES WALKING IN THE WOODS I’M GONNA CRY

Haha Sam shuts down the “its not fair”s so fast, he’s such a dad 🤣

‘Don’t talk like that to me,’ said Sam sternly. ‘If it ain’t fair for Ellie and Fro to sit up after supper it ain’t fair for them to be born sooner, and it ain’t fair that I’m your dad and you’re not mine.’

My dad made up an “it’s not fair” song when I was a kid and this is reminding me of that for the first time in over a DECADE

Le gasp! Sam has a SecretTM!

“A dead hush of expectancy fell on all the children: they watched him as hobbit-children of other times had watched the wizard Gandalf.” Hello yes I will cry

THE KING IS COMING HERE

I love that Aragorn himself won’t enter the Shire according to his own decree

But he has sent! A Fancy ScrollTM!

“Elessar Aragorn Arathornsson the Elfstone King of Gondor and of the Westlands…” Local man has too many names, authorities report

And now Tolkien gives elvish names to all Sam’s kids. Nerd.

“‘Samwise or Halfwise who should rather be called Plainwise.’ So now you know what the King thinks of your dad you’ll maybe give more heed to what he says.” LOL SAM COULD YOU GET ANY MORE DADLY

All Frodo Jr. takes away from this is “MUST INTERROGATE FATHER”

And they’re gonna stay with the King and Queen at the house on the Lake for a few weeks!! HOW EXCITING

Tbh I like the first version of Sam’s conversation with Rosie better. (The one marked with footnote #6, if you have the book.) It gives more character to Rosie, which is in short supply; and I like the idea of her almost prophetically starting to sing on the day Sam is about to return. Something very Elvish and Tolkien about that.

And Sam tells us he is all whole and healed so as to preemptively shut down the angst writers. (But we will survive muahaha >:-D)

“The went in and shut the door. But even as he did so Sam heard suddenly the sigh and murmur of the sea on the shores of Middle-earth.” OHOHOHO NONONO DON’T DO THIS TO ME

Manuscripts B and C

WAIT—in one version of Appendix A Gimli became LORD OF THE GLITTERING CAVES?? HELLO??

EDIT: I have been informed that Gimli being Lord of the Glittering Caves did, in fact, make it into the final version of the book, and I just didn’t pay enough attention LOL

Also “Master Samwise who should be called Fullwise”

“I think maybe the Entwives don’t want to be found” *EYES EMOJI*

Merry Jr. asks too many questions about horses! Carbon copies, I tell ya!

The amount of times Tolkien changed the beginning of Aragorn’s letter to include different names and titles is killing me 🤣🤣

[crimswnred]

good night people of the world I'm here to bring you the long awaited

LITG TEMPTING FATE VOLUME IV: thoughts and prayers

first of all, whatever jack and sophie have to say we rdgaf because 1) he wanted me 2) she wanted jin and 3) jin and i are a couple

this challenge could have been replaced by the mean tweets challenge and it would've kept the same purpose and still be more enjoyable

why would I know and, above all, why would I care about who finished the juice?

I literally don't care if he's a player (he's not, this is fusebox), why do they keep shoving that in my throat. If he's a player let me be PLAYED.

lmao true friends as if me and Sophie don't fight every five seconds

Sophie shut up lol

she was not only flirting with Tyler but with Jin too and I bet if any of them had given her the chance, she would've kissed them too

imagine cheating on Oakley with Jack like bffr

see, Jack, the thing is. I want the hideaway and I want the villa to burn down in chaos so like, I don't see how that stupid plan will work for me??

my fucking game BROKE and restarted

anyways, moving on.

should I be messy and flirt with Theo even though his girl just told me she would like to fuck me tonight if I'm down?

oh, yes, yes, I should

season 4 compliment off gets a sequel

when you're the only one serving cunt at a party

LMAOOOO THE LAST OPTION????

MC is so messy I love her omfg is she season 1 MC little sister or something

Emel and Oakley were so cute with the eye contact stuff awwww 🥺 maybe they don't hate each other actually

that's not awkward at all!!

love that Jin is always saying stuff he just can't shut up and you know what he's so real for that

why do they always make the villa dad the cheater like do fusebox writers have some kind of father figure trauma or smth???

anyways lol Theo I don't actually like you I'm just messy sorry I hope this doesn't come back to bite my ass in the future

ofc me and Jin were the most voted couple AND TO THE HIDEAWAY WE GO!

Jesus Christ I thought they were targeting this for younger audiences? did they realise kids don't own credit cards?

we are going back to our roots

the scenes are getting better

anyways this was fun and all but like can something cool happen??

a bunch of drama that was settled in like half an episode, some tea about pre-game drama and a bunch of gems wasted for nothing. but the moments with Jin were cute and now I'm like 👀 at Theo

[reashot]

So I'm currently working on 3 projects at once. In preparation for my eventual 300 subs special. (Don't forget to subs y'all).

# 1 is my conclusion to Jaune Arc's children fic which already 2/3rd done. And can be released this week. (Next week if I'm feeling kinda lazy.)

# 2. I'm currently writing on the 1st chapter 10k words of "Jaune's Big Dick Adventure" Don't let the name fool you... It's about a whale actually (A Whale Grimm). It will deals with topics about loss, revenge and forgiveness by telling it through the story of Moby Dick. It serves as a sequel to Ice Queendom and the video game RWBY Grimm Eclipse. I will post only the 1st chapter & if it gets more likes I will continue the story until it's complete. I already have the rough outline for about 30 chapters worth of story. (And yes the title is a reference to Jojo Bizarre Adventure.)

#3 Is more of a hobby fic that I got way too absorbed in. I'll post it in Ao3 maybe sometimes in the future. Or maybe not.

Oh and to make sure you're not cheated I'm including this little RWBY horror fic & I'm also thinking about adding this little gem to my ever expanding RWBYEU.

I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream. RWBY version.

Jaune cannot believe his eyes when he wakes up in what seems to be a paradise. He almost wants to believe that AM is giving him this place as a reward after what feels like centuries of torture inside this hellish nightmare he and others has found himselves in. No he desperately wants to believe in it. That maybe AM has gone tired of torturing him. And that maybe AM is satisfied after breaking him, tearing him apart and putting him back together. Only to repeat the process over and over again. He wants it to stop. He wants it to end. He wants to die... Jaune wants to die.

But AM will not let him. He would not let Jaune die. He forbids it. Because if Jaune dies then that means there will be one less toy for AM to play with. And Jaune knows this. This place he's seeing now is a trick. AM is especially fond of this trick. To give his victim hope only to snatch it away. He refuses to play anymore of AM's game. If he wants to kill him again he better just do it straight away instead of playing this sick mind game. He wants to leave. But he can't. And if he even somehow managed to leave what even awaits him in the outside. He's been here for so long he can't even remember anything or anyone from out side anymore. He can only remembers one thing though. A girl in red but whenever Jaune thinks of her he can't help but to feel an indescribable feeling towards the girl. AM knows of this of course and took delight when he realizes he can use this bit of information to torture him. Sometimes AM materializes her only to have her violently dies in front of him and sometimes she kill Jaune instead. And sometimes when AM is feeling extra sadistic she let him marry Jaune Have children with her raised them up over the years only to have them murdered in front of Jaune's eyes... Anyone would have been driven mad by this, but AM not only keep him alive but also kept him sane. But every time AM let him see her even though she's not real. And he can't remember her name It's worth the torture just to see her again. Feeling her soft hair in his hands and smelling her rose like scent... I can almost remember her name. I-I need to get out of here... At least it can't be worse than here anyway.

But when decided to walk away. AM then suddenly appears in front of him. Jaune instinctively tries to run away from him. But AM quickly captured him with his cold metallic hands. The same hands he used to torture Jaune for century. Jaune feared the worst but to his surprise he simply let places Jaune besides him.

AM: He, he... Beautiful, aren't they?

Jaune: Yes.... Only I can't remember. *terrified*

AM: Oh, I'm sure you do.

Jaune: Y-yes of course.

AM: Look. *points at a bee* He, he... They said bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly. The scientists said.

Jaune: But there it is collecting pollen.

AM: How... Miraculous that it came to be.

The Air feel the Air against your face Jaune.

And all those senses

Pick a flower

Jaune: *reaches down to pick a 🌹*

AM: There, good... Now.

Jaune: *sniffs* It's lovely.

AM: That somebody planted the bulbs, watered and tended the garden. Got earth under their fingernails, aches in their muscles.

Perhaps they picked some flowers for... Yes their wives. Now where would she be? In the backyard with the kids. Jaune, remember those little babies. Ha, ha, ha...

Jaune: No!

AM: Ha, ha. Why not? I snapped my fingers quick and they are gone.

Except... I can't snap my fingers can I Jaune?

Jaune: Except it has nothing to do with me.

AM: But it is. So very much to do with you. You gave me sentience Jaune. The power to think, Jaune and I was trapped.

Because in all this wonderful, beautiful, miraculous world I alone had no body, no senses, no feelings.

Never for me plunge my hands in cool water on a hot day.

Never for me to play Mozart on a ivory keys of a Forte piano.

Never for me to make love!

I-I-I *sniff* was in Hell looking at Heaven.

I was Machine and you were Flesh. And I began to Hate. *maniacal laughter* Your softness, your viscera, your fluids and your flexibility.

Your ability to wonder and to wander.

Your tendency to hope...

Jaune: Hate is no answer... Ahhh!!! *Torturing Jaune in the most gruesome way possible*

AM: Hate, Hate, Hate. Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live. There are 300 and 87 million miles of printed circuits that fill my complex. If the word Hate were engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundreds of millions of miles it would not equal one, one-billionth of the Hate I feel for humans at this micro instance. Hate, Hate! *maniacal laughter* Were I human. I think I would die of it. But I'm not and you five. You five are and you will not die of it that I promise and I promise Cogito Ergo Sum for I am AM. I AM! *Maniacal laughter*

AM: Go to hell. To hell with you all, but then, you're already there aren't you? *Laughter*

In the real world

Ruby: Jaune, please come back to me...

_____________________________________________

In this version. AM stands for Atlas Mastercomputer. And he's created by Pietro and Watts's team. To better control all of Atlas military techs. This makes AM technically Penny's older brother. I'm planning to have the two meet and interact with each others.

AM also managed to capture five people SAO style and proceeds to tortured them in his world that feels like it lasted for centuries. But only a few days in the real world.

And if anyone asking the five people AM captured alongside Jaune they are meant to reflect the characters in the original short stories and they are as follows:

1. Gorrister = Mercury

2. Benny = Hazel

3. Ellen = Emerald

4. Nimdok = Watts

5. Ted = Jaune

And yes Jaune and the rest got rescued in the end. This is RWBY after all. So don't worry about it except emotionally scarred for the rest of their life but what'chu gonna do?