#bear x cheryl

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter five

of rage and ruin series

chapter five

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werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.7k

summary: the moon brings about a new change for you and joel.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), depiction of injury, body horror, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, viewer discretion is advised, discussions of breeding but this is not a pregnancy story

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When the moon ebbs enough for him to let go of the creature, you’ve been a frequent visitor in his cell. They never leave you overnight, and most days, you’re in your room for breakfast and dinner (though you’re slightly better fed in his).

Like clockwork, the wolf has curled around you, an ever-present inner tube to float you through the endless days. There’s not much to do here in captivity, no enrichment in your enclosure, so instead, you pet his fur and watch the way his eyes follow noises from the upper floor that you can’t hear. He knows when they’re coming far before you do, not that it matters. Not that you can do anything to protect yourselves, to prepare for them.

He doesn’t use his tongue on you again. Maybe it should be comforting, that he was just helping, or that he just had a thirst for blood, but it’s not. Cheryl’s question pecks at your brain until it weeps.

Why hasn’t he done… that? You would have said he wasn’t the type, wasn’t that out of control, wasn’t a real monster. 

But she said he had done it before. Claimed, violated another omega. 

And he still hasn’t taken the fucking chance to explain anything to you. 

You grow tired of it near the new moon. 

He’s corralled you away from the cold corner where your cage used to be, a goal you only figured out when he put his teeth on the chain between your handcuffs and began to pull you after ages of nudging had left you both frustrated at the inability to communicate. 

Now you sit nestled in the embrace of his great, furry body on his mattress. It is, admittedly, more comfortable than you’ve been since they took you. The mattress sucks, but it hurts your ass less than the tile, and your back yearns to rest there instead of the locker room bench. 

He curls the bulk of his body in the corner, you tucked within, but it was never meant for two humans, let alone one human and one… more than human. His elongated, thick limbs spill out over the edge, but it gets easier every day to look at him without feeling nauseated by the sheer otherness of his mutated body.

And he’s warm. It’s fucking frigid down here, and your sports bra and thin cotton panties do little to ease the shivers. But the wolf is warm and soft and mostly content to let you doze there. 

You try not to think about why. Why this terrifying apex predator is treating you more like a teddy bear than a snack. Why you’re not more afraid, why you find yourself absentmindedly petting him and putting up no argument as he shuffles you around as he pleases.

“Is this all you did all day before, too?” you ask quietly one afternoon, tired of the way your brain rots and drips out from between your thighs. Sitting here in the silence, with nothing to distract you from his oaky musk, has you leaking that thin, sticky slick like a faucet. He doesn’t seem to mind that you’re dampening the mattress.

Joel huffs, a puff of hot air ruffling the fur on his arm where his head is resting. Despite your frequent naps, you don’t seem to have taken to his crepusculent nature yet. He rumbles, not quite a growl, and closes his eyes so you get the hint.

You don’t. It’s not long before he feels your pointy finger jabbing at his side. “Hey,” you say. “Why haven’t you turned back?”

This time, he does growl, a soft warning of a thing. The wolf doesn’t want the man, and the man doesn’t want you. Or, well. He does. That’s the problem, after all. His human mind stays stubbornly shut, content to let the beast deal with you instead.

It becomes impossible to ignore. He spends his days wrapped around you, trying to ease the tiny tremors. But you’re cold, so cold, and even his body heat isn’t enough. 

In fact, it almost makes it worse when he has to get up, leaving you alone on the little bed with scraps to wear. 

Joel doesn’t make requests. He doesn’t debase himself to beg them for anything. When he has to? Sure. He has and will again someday humiliate himself for water. But never for anything remotely unnecessary. 

But you’re cold. 

Now, his reticence makes this harder. He doesn’t ask for things, so they know they’ve won already when he does. 

They made him care about this girl, about you, and he can’t hide it. Can’t hide from it. Can’t protect you, can’t protect himself from their manipulations. 

But they’ve known since they brought you in. They knew they figured it out and had him made when he got territorial. 

So not only do they make him beg, they make him work for it. 

It’s only the new moon when he asks, and they make him wait.

Two weeks. He can’t take it. 

The wolf doesn’t let him sleep often; he just paces. Paces and paces and paces, even though it makes you a little nervous.

Even worse? He likes you a little nervous. It makes him nauseous and giddy at the same time. 

But cold? That’s just unacceptable. 

Protect, the wolf whispers. Provide. 

The man comes back. His graying hair is ruffled and damp; little droplets of water still cling to his chest and flatten the hair on his stomach. You keep your eyes above the waist, but not quick enough to unsee the way his heavy, flaccid cock lies thick against the plush bed of his balls. It twitches under your gaze, which you lift to find his on you, dark and full of warning. 

You shouldn’t be this affected. He’s been walking around nude the whole time you’ve been here. And yet, there’s a rush of warmth flooding you, a tell-tale beat at your core.

Oh. No, it’s an actual flood of warmth. The apple blossom tang of your slick is strong enough that you can smell it, the glistening of your thighs and matted hair between betraying you.

His brows pinch, lip caught between teeth. “We need to talk.”

It’s funny—the universal dread behind those words. This is not when your mother sat you down to break the news of your dog’s passing; this is not when your high school boyfriend decided to have that conversation in a bottlenecked hallway outside the cafeteria. This is a virtual stranger, and yet, that phrase still sends your heart rate skittering and your stomach seizing. 

You don’t realize you’ve frozen up until he makes a very irritating tch-tch with his tongue against his teeth. 

“Did you hear me, girl? I need to talk to you. And you need to listen.”

“Hi Joel, nice to see you; it’s been a while,” you say instead.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ve been here the whole damn time.”

“Incredibly convenient that when you want to talk, you can be a person, but when I’m bored and lonely in here with your furry ass, you can’t be bothered.”

“First of all,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face like he’s already exhausted, “you talked plenty for the both of us. Second—” He glares as you open your mouth indignantly— “ second, this is important. And it’s important now.”

You shut your mouth. 

“Oh, good, you do know how,” he mutters.

“I’m sorry, is my presence here a bother? Let me just pack up and go home. Oh, wait.” 

You don’t know why you’re doing this. The residual bitterness you had scrubbed clean from your lungs is bubbling anew. How dare he have an attitude with you?

He growls. Honest to god growls, even though he’s human, because he can’t truly be, really. Not anymore. The lines between wolf and man are not as fortified as he likes to pretend.

They never really were.

That’s neither here nor there to Joel right now, though. What matters is that you knock this off and listen . “We ain’t got time for this,” he says. “I shoulda realized sooner, but I didn’t. I don’t know how much time we got, but I ain’t about to let you go into this blind.” 

Your anger is snuffed by his icy tone, making way for the dread to creep back in. 

He sits down with a huff, bare ass on the cold, cratered floor, putting a good half the room between you. A spike of guilt at having stolen his bed rises. At least you have underwear to put between you and the tile. 

The guilt festers when he tosses you a small gray bundle. 

It’s a blanket.

It’s worn and torn, certainly, and it’s thin. But it’s a blanket. 

You’re actually speechless, looking up at him and opening and closing your mouth like a fish. 

“Don’t make a big deal about it,” he says gruffly, so you shut your mouth and nod.

“Thanks,” is all you say, and he grunts in response. 

You run your hands over the soft fleece and bite your lip. It seems less important to listen to him right now than it is to spread the blanket out on the mattress. You’re aware of his wary stare as you change the positioning over and over before uselessly fluffing the sad, flat pillow and setting it at the top of the bed. 

“Shit,” he says. “We got less time than I thought.”

Once you’re satisfied with your one and only “home decoration,” you settle back on the mattress and regard him. “Before what?”

“Before your heat, baby,” he says with forced caution. 

Your brain fizzles, like holding Pop Rocks in the back of your throat, when he calls you baby. You should be pissed. If it were any other man calling you something like that apropos of nothing, you’d be pissed.

But Joel says it, and you lose your train of thought. 

For all that you’ve malfunctioned from it, Joel doesn’t seem to notice the slip of his tongue. He’s watching you expectantly, which brings the rest of his sentence to the surface.

“Before what?” you say, even though deep down, you know. Even if you didn’t have context for the word, you feel it. What was a low simmer is molten, now, as it churns in your abdomen, leaking from your cunt. 

He grimaces. “I know how this is gonna sound. I promise I’m not tryin’ to pull anything over on ya,” he says, hands raised in supplication. “But you gotta know before it’s too late.”

His jaw ticks as he chews on the words he doesn’t want to taste before spitting them out between you. “Look, it ain’t like anyone knows a whole lot about our… conditions. But that’s what they call it.” He glances up at the ceiling, no doubt listening to the raiders stomping around above. “Best guess is a biological breeding imperative. But you’re going to get real… needy. It’s gonna hurt. And I’m not going to be able to stop myself. ” 

You consider this, turning it over and over like a gas station hot dog roller. The image of his cock fits a little too well there, but that’s the long and short of it, isn’t it? 

Well. There isn’t anything short about it. No, you can’t follow that path right now. You blink and notice he’s staring, waiting for some kind of— any kind of reaction, and clear your throat. “Why?”

You’re not really sure what you’re asking, just looking to take whatever semblance of an answer he can muster.

“Because it’s going to hurt you, and you’re going to beg me to help, and I’m not gonna be able to say no.”

“That seems wildly unfair to you.”

He sputters. “To-to me? Aren’t you listening? I’m telling you I’m going to lose control and violate you while you’re vulnerable, and you’re worried about what’s fair to me?” 

“Well, it’s obviously unfair to me too,” you counter. “But, like. Okay, whatever, far be it for me to think you should have some say in this.” 

He scrubs his hand over his face, scratches at his beard, and heaves a heavy sigh. A three-for-one in what you’re starting to understand as Joel for “Jesus fucking Christ.”

He completes the set for you. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, and then glowers when you snort a wry laugh. 

He stands up and paces. It’s the first time you’ve really seen him behave like the wolf while remaining the man. It also, unfortunately, makes it very hard not to look at his cock. He catches you looking and groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Sorry,” you say, shifting uncomfortably on the mattress. 

“Ain’t your fault,” he says, resuming his figure eight. 

You sit, picking at the skin around the nailbed of your left index finger until it bleeds, bringing it to your mouth to soothe the sting. 

“Don’t do that,” he scolds when the blood blossoms, but you’re too lost in the realization of what’s coming to listen.

“It’s going to hurt?” you ask finally.

“Yeah, it’s going to fucking hurt,” he snaps and then sighs, shoulders slumping a little. “It’s going to make you feel like you’ll die if you don’t… if I don’t…” 

“So, hold up. You get super strength, super hearing, super sharp teeth, and like mighty morphin fursuit powers, and I get… so horny it hurts?”

“What is wrong with you?” he mutters, but you ignore him.

“That’s so fucked. Is there anything cool about being an… an omega?” You don’t like the shape of the word on your tongue, spitting it out. It leaves behind a caustic taste.

“You’re more likely to carry to term successfully than human women,” he says flatly.

The caustic feeling spreads to the twitch of your lip. “Oh, come on. Fucking typical FEDRA. They accidentally created werewolves with a side dose of sexism.”

His jaw ticks. “First of all, we ain’t werewolves. ”

“Uh, you are. You, for sure, are a werewolf,” you interrupt.

The line between his brow deepens, like this conversation is taking years off his life. “Don’t say that,” he says, closing his eyes. “Do not say that again.”

“Dude. You howl at the fucking moon. You turn into a huge hairy beast, all ‘the better to eat you with’ style, like, you’re a motherfucking werewolf.” 

He sits down, shaking his head. “Can you quit it?” he barks. Well, not literally. You’ve heard him literally bark. This is just rude. 

Except, there’s a teeny, tiny quirk to the corner of his mouth. “Anyway,” he grunts. “It ain’t sexist. Anyone can be an omega.”

“Ok, but still. You get superpowers, and I get a super uterus.”

“I didn’t say it was fair."

You sigh. 

“You’re being remarkably calm,” he notes, a little less gruffness and a little more concern in his tone.

“I can panic if you’d like,” you say with a wry grin. “It just doesn’t seem like it’ll help matters.”

“You’re getting complacent,” he counters.

“I learned it by watching you,” you say, mimicking the higher inflection.

He narrows his eyes. “You ain’t old enough to remember that commercial,” he says.

“You don’t have a clue how old I am,” you counter. There’s a surprising lightness in your chest. For all that you and Joel haven’t really spoken beyond the few tense encounters, talking to him is almost fun. 

Or maybe you’re really that deep in the Stockholm Syndrome now.

Is it still Stockholm Syndrome if he’s not your captor? Because you sure aren’t warming up to Jim and Cheryl. 

When you look back up at Joel, he’s watching you with furrowed brows and a deep-set scowl, the lines around his mouth like cracks in a sidewalk. 

It’s haunting, his seriousness. 

“What happened to your last omega?” you ask, finally letting the ghoul out from under your bed, hoping his words will disperse it.

“I killed him,” Joel says flatly. 

“Oh.”

The silence settles again, less like a shawl and more like the space between the crackle of the intercom summoning you to the principal’s office and the long walk down the empty hall. 

This time, though, your grandma isn’t waiting on the other side. There’s only the big bad wolf. 

“I didn’t mean to,” he says after a long while. “It was different. He wasn’t mine. But that doesn’t mean you’re safe.”

“What do you mean he wasn’t yours? I’m… also not yours.”

Joel grimaces, which only serves to let the shadows twist his face further. “Yeah, ya are,” he says solemnly. “Sorry. But ya’ve been mine since they brought you in here. Or, the beast’s, anyway.”

His words settle in your stomach like the Edmund Fitzgerald, and all you can do is watch from the dry side of a glass-bottomed tour boat. You’ve been mine since they brought you in here. 

There’s not much room left in you for levity, now. 

“So that’s it?” you say quietly. “What, I’m going to just have to hope you don’t tear me to shreds while you… while you…”

“I don’t think it’ll hurt you,” he says of his other half. You find the way he speaks of himself so perplexing. You tend to split them, too, but for him to see himself in fragments is enlightening. 

And sad. 

“But…” he sighs, the burden of what he’s about to ask of you sinking its teeth in, “you can’t fight me. You gotta just… shit, you gotta just take it. If you fight, it might fight back.”

His gruff baritone and its potent words, the low hint of a twang and the undercurrent of a klaxon, put your stomach through a cotton candy machine, wrapping the tendrils of your anxiety into a nice bundle to choke on. 

He sees the fear in your eyes and oh, he hates it. The wolf is snapping its jaw around his neck for it. How dare he scare you like this? How dare he threaten his girl? The beast is all teeth and fury and protect protect protect and he doesn’t even notice the change start until you suddenly say, “don’t.”

Don’t. 

That’s all it takes.

You watch as the claws recede along with his fur. 

“That’s not fair,” you whisper. “You stay here and talk to me about it.”

It stings much in the same way as the time he accidently got his jaws around a porcupine. It was early days in his new life, and in the height of starving season. His desperation cost him then but he wouldn’t let it now. 

He settles back down, gritting his teeth. “You’re right. It ain’t fair,” he agrees. “Ain’t nothin’ about this fair to you.”

When it comes, it bears no warning. Maybe because it’s your first heat, you don’t recognize the signs. 

True to his word, the man has stayed, though he warned you he couldn’t keep the beast at bay for long. The gibbous is waxing, fattening, bloating above you each night and it’s nearly sounded its call when the fever takes you.

You’re in your room when your abdomen seizes with the first cramp. There’s no mistaking it for your period. It comes with purpose, with rage, the sole horseman of your downfall.

Okay, maybe downfall is a little dramatic. 

But you have barely had time to gasp at the wrenching of your insides before he’s calling out to you from across the hall. 

You don’t answer, gritting your teeth as you throb at the sound of his voice, and he calls, instead, for them. 

He’s never addressed them first, never voiced a need, never invited them into your subterranean den willingly.

And you know.

“Fucking disgusting,” Jim scoffs as he unlocks the door to your room. 

“Don’t touch her,” Joel snaps, pressed against the bars with both hands wrapped tightly around them. 

You think Jim makes some kind of threat toward you, but there’s none needed. It doesn’t occur to you to run, which haunts you later. In the haze of your aching body, every muscle tensed and ready, you let the call of the moon draw you to Joel, grabbing for his hands through the bars as soon as you can reach.

There’s something in his eyes that you don’t want to see. Something too close to pity, so you don’t look at his face. 

Jim has to snap at you both and threaten the shock collar to get you to move away from the door. Joel, still mostly sound of mind, moves obediently to the back of the cell as Jim opens it, letting you stumble past the barrier before the clang echoes. 

Joel catches you before you fall, and you grasp his forearms. The room is warm, suffocatingly so, and he looks increasingly concerned with each passing second. 

“Too hot,” you whine, still digging your fingernails into his roughened flesh, the gruff hair a balm to your itchy, ill-fitting skin. Your body yearns for the change, to shift and settle into something closer to him, closer to what the moon wants you to be.

“I know,” he croons, sinking to his knees and holding you with your back to his chest, legs sprawled. His hand strokes your head, brushing sweat from your clammy skin. You catch his hand in both of yours, holding it up in front of you and following the lines of his palm, letting your fingertips test the tip of his claws, stroking the hair on the back of each finger.

“So thick,” you marvel.

He sighs, hot breath skittering across the back of your neck. “How’re you so far gone already,” he mutters, not really a question. 

Your head spins. “I’m right here,” you say, eliciting another sigh. 

“I know,” he placates again before he does something that sends your whole body into overdrive.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I know,” he repeats. “I’ve got ya. It’s gonna be okay.” 

It isn’t, you think, as the twitching of your shoulders and legs sets off quiet alarms. It isn’t, because there’s no coming back from this. You know this, but right now? Here, in his arms, with his quiet rumbling voice and that kiss? Well, what happens next just isn’t your problem.

He inhales deeply, his lips still pressed to your head, and it slips from you without warning, without intent.

“Alpha,” you whimper on pure instinct, and he knows.

Oh, he knows.

It’s too late for either of you, now. 

next chapter

[quietzap]

how do you navigate your feelings towards ziam and cheryl/bear/kate/maya on top of this immense grief? i don't mean to be insensitive but i haven't found an answer for myself yet, i can't believe we'll never get answers now

(To anyone seeing this, read until the end before saying anything thank you.) Well. I'm gonna ramble a bit but bear with me. Spotify played Let Me and Common on shuffle the other day and I cried a bit. It's unfair. It should've never ended this way. But I had already accepted ages ago that we might never know the truth. I still have my beliefs. That Zayn and Liam were together. Maybe they had broken up who knows but if they did then I still truly believe their bond was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I've gone through so many emotions this past week. But seeing the posts of cheryl etcetc or people mentioning bear (Zayn was the only one who didn't fwiw), it didn't make me feel anything. Maybe bc I had already accepted we couldn't do anything about the stunts, and/or maybe bc it's still difficult for me to accept he's really gone or bc it doesn't matter to me at this moment. Or bc I haven't actually sat down to think about what it means that he's gone. I've just been thinking of the pain all of Liam's loved ones are in right now and will be in for the foreseeable future. And I include Zayn in this. I also don't really want to think about it bc I think I might get angry. We've all seen Liam's video on snapchat from last month, where he said he was stunting and forced to do things he didn't want to do and to send help. I often used to say that I didn't understand why the boys accepted this situation instead of just getting out, consequences be damned. Ofc it's easier said than done. But I thought maybe they thought it was worth it in some way. But then, Louis got out. Zayn got out. (In some way, I mean they have privacy and a real career, like Niall and Harry). I guess I will never understand why Liam was still the only one so stuck in this shitty situation. Why couldn't he live his life in peace like Zayn and only appear when he released music? Why couldn't he find a better team or why did he even accept to go along for so long? Why did people let him? Why?! That's what I want to know. Fucking why. And I want Liam's image/reputation to be redeemed. Anyway I digressed I'm sorry.

I just sincerely hope Zayn will be ok. Jaymi who was in Union J lost his soon-to-be-husband a couple months ago (Olly was buried the day they were supposed to get married last month). They'd been together for 14 years. And Olly died in similar circumstances (a fall from the 3rd floor of a hotel). And as incredibly awful as this is, knowing that other people are going through similar grief helps a bit, and I hope it will help Zayn and Liam's loved ones know they're not alone. (Edit: I'm not saying these deaths are linked, Olly's death is an accident, Jaymi was there when it happened. This paragraph is about not being fully alone in grief because other ppl go through similar things).

Idek if I've answered your question. I guess basically the stunts don't cross my mind coz it's not important to me. These past few years when Liam was alive it wasn't important (tho I hated it) bc I accepted the boys made their own choices. And now it's not important bc it won't bring Liam back and bc his loved ones matter more to me. Now, if I'm actually wrong about my beliefs then it is what it is and I feel for his exes/gf/child, and if the maya thing is true I still think addiction made him act that way and that if he'd got a chance to really get better this wouldn't have happened again. If I'm not wrong tho, I truly feel for Zayn who doesn't get to grieve the way he deserves to. Tho I'm glad he has loved ones who know the truth and who can support him the right way.

I hope this helps. Feel free to tell me if you want to discuss this further or anything ❤️

(Link to the videos of Liam from snapchat: x)

[twopoppies]

Has Cheryl said anything? I'm sure she's torn to bits for Bear.

She did. She made a really heartbreaking post.

x

[slippinninque]

Can we get another Chester from “They Cloned Tyrone” story plzzzzzz 🥹🙏🏾🥹🙏🏾🥹🙏🏾🥹

😒Busted😬

Chester x blackfemreader

In which Chester has a secret....

warnings: cursing, fluff, bit of jealousy, misunderstandings, tiny mentions of kink, very self indulgent fic, bit of a pick up from Bear Hug

Chester was hiding something from you. A week and a few days more, he hasn't been himself.

Barely home when you are, nearly runs to his room when he sees you unexpectedly, and doesn't speak. Not the normal silence that clung to him so naturally. There was nothing inviting your attention or banter--he felt too twitchy to play with.

You were his roommate which he, more than occasionally, liked to get down and sexy with. You'd like to think that there was a mutual acknowledgement of the shadow of something-more that loomed over your relationship.

This shadow that has grown into a terrible twist in your gut. A nagging worm bored into your brain after one too many vents to ReRe at the hair shop was overheard by a regular.

"I'm telling you, girl, I've been around and I know what it means for a man to be all shifty like that."

"That so, Ms. Cheryl?"

"Mhm! Ain't saying nothing against you, 'course, but a man gonna want more than chicken every night...know what I'm saying?"

You knew what she was saying. You've heard it before you retired, of course. All from clients who were too ashamed to be honest with themselves, those who wanted their cake and to eat it too.

You tired to shake it off. You ignored the empty spots where Chester would normally be. You went to work more hour and kept your mouth shut while at it. Despite the baiting gossiping floating in between press and curls, you said nothing more about your business.

What was a relationship without some secrets, anyway?

Chester has only helped you and never hurt you--what if it was something too embarrassing for him to talk about? What if he was getting to know other people? It was the longest you've gone without touching each other and you couldn't just ignore that.

The facts of it was that Chester was a grown ass man and the two of you haven't discussed exclusivity. This arrangement was more than nice but perhaps Chester was growing bored of it?

If he wanted to get bound and gagged by someone else, that was his business. You were going to let it go.

Instead, you came home early from work just to see what you would find. It felt dirty to sneak into your own house but it felt even worse to see the startled expression on Chester's face on the way out from the kitchen.

"Why are you here?"

"Why are you here?"

The two of you stood across from each other with the last week of tension weaving between you. Chester rolled his neck along his shoulders, still silent.

"Fine, then."

With a vicious hum, you turned towards the linen closet and jerked open the door. There was no way someone could hide in there Chester was fucking Ant-Man of all people. Chester stepped in an immediate hover and you turned to snap at him.

A sound came from the back where your bedrooms were cut you off. You bolted towards it with building fire in your chest. Was Chester doing the binding and gagging?

Chester choked before falling right behind you. Still too late, he could only watch as you doubled back to damn near kick in the bathroom door when the sound came again, louder.

"...Oh..."

Your arms were splayed to block in your would-be replacement but Chester could still see over you and down at the puppies snuffling around in a pile of linen.

Instantly melting to the floor, you took in the three little angels. Pitbull puppies, you'd know those future big-heads anywhere.

They were precious and fussy--it must have been feeding time from the way they were looking to bust out of their cozy crib at the sound of your commotion.

"Chester?"

He came into the bathroom, dragging himself down into a crouch as if waiting for sentencing. You patted the ground until he sat on his behind on the other side of the box.

"So, this is what had you all twitchy."

"The shelter needed time," Chester stared at the puppy pile, "They said they would call but..."

That would explain a lot. Keeping three mouths fed in between whatever the fuck Chester did--

"You've been taking good care of them. They're so chunky and so stinkin' cuute!"

Chester shrugged as if it were no big deal but you noticed the pleased slant to his mouth as he looked down at the puppies. There was pride on his face as he put a hand on the box's edge as if he meant to rock them.

How much this must have took for him to do. Chester didn't strike you as a type to care much for animals, let alone fostering them--but he surprised you once again.

You felt terrible. Terrible for doubting him and terrible for letting your insecurities threaten this little piece of happy you've found. You were lucky that the man you were sharing a bed with was only hiding strays in the house.

"I want to apologize to you, Bear. "

"Hm?"

"I let some broad get into my head but that's on me," you shook your head at the situation your jealousy caused, "I ended up thinking that you were looking to get another...roommate. I'm sorry for giving you the attitude, lately. "

Chester made a noise that could only be described as, Ew! You snorted, amazed at how such a little sound could give you so much relief.

"No. I'm not searching." Chester's voice was firm, his brows coming together and his expression suddenly had you feeling bared. You turned your eyes to the snuffling angels but Chester's hand appeared palm up before you.

With your hand in his, the last dregs of your anxiety faded away and you let your self shuffle about so you were side by side. Chester's palm was warm and calloused, one of the two hands that's been responsible for three little lives while you were chewing denim in between your insecurities.

"I'm sorry to make you feel as if you had to hide this from me." You apologized again, "This is your house too. If you wanted to bring a flippin' llama in here--you could."

"I did not intend for this to go this far and I...did mean to tell you. I heard them when it was dark and I..."

Chester stopped. You realized it was more so a Chester Thing rather than a You Thing. There were some things that he was working through, something Chester didn't have to say out loud for you to understand.

It was normal for someone to bring home a box of kittens or puppies, who could ignore their cries in the night? You were beginning to think that it wasn't normal for someone like Chester. He seemed...ashamed by it.

You broke the silence to ask lightly, "Did you have any names for them?"

"Small," he gestured towards the cinnamon-toasted puppy smooshed between the other two, "Medium," the snuffling blue-grey puppy, "and, Large." The obvious biggest of the trio, jet black and the loudest with their displeasure of being kept waiting.

Good Lord. You turned away but couldn't hold in your laugh. Chester huffed and tugged you closer to fall into him and you giggled now as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"Well, what names would be best?"

"Oh, baby, I don't know. I'm just giving you shit."

Chester sucked his teeth and made to scoot away from you, but you only followed after throwing an arm around his neck.

"Okay! Okayokayokay--we can come up with something good between the two of us! Let's think..."

The next two hours consisted of you and Chester relocating the puppies to your room while you ping-ponged potential names with good ol' Merriam-Webster. You watched as Chester tenderly cleaned and fed the puppies before redressing their box, adding a plushie at your insistence.

Once their bellies were full--the puppies cuddled together in a corner with their new fox friend and settled down. The attention span you would have spent on putting together dinner was spent on a quick order for pizza order.

"Okay, one more time for good luck," You said as you Chester came back from getting your food from the deliveryman,

"We have Tiny, Minnie, and Stout. Formally known as 'small', 'medium', and 'large'. How'd we feel? Is that fitting for these girls?"

"Feels good." Chester said after a beat of though, "Better than...before."

"Don't beat yourself up, naming babies is hard, man."

Chester rewarded you with a rare smile, wide enough to show "Very much worth it, though."

The two of you ate pizza from the box on the floor, when you came back from getting the drinks--Chester turned on the TV. When you sat beside him and leaned onto his shoulder, his arm went around your waist. He was initiating a lot of contact which was frisky for Chester.

You looked up at Chester to see him already staring at you with warm, affectionate eyes. Heart flipped, you shoved your pizza into your mouth. It didn't stop you from smiling though.

"You are my roommate." Chester leaned in to be sure he was heard, "No one else would ever suffice."

"Thank you, Bear." The reassurance was sudden but it wiped away a few smudges from your heart. The way he said 'roommate' replaced any seeds of doubt in your mind with flower buds, this event forever a reminder that you could trust Chester.

Hearing Chester say that no one could replace you...that was priceless, though.

You cleared your throat and looked to the box, "Say...they're pretty young to be going so soon. Should we hold onto them for a while? Just until they're a bit older, you think?"

"Agreed." Chester said readily, "When it's time for their shots, you will have to come along. They'll cry."

"Agreed." You nodded, "I'll step up and help out with these babies. No more secret Baby Daddy-ing without me, okay?"

Chester nodded slowly but once again, sure. Agreed.

You grinned and pulled one of the throw blankets from your bed to drag over your laps, Chester reached for another slice with his eyes were on the puppies when one stirred.

It's never felt so good to be so wrong. You felt like you were glowing as you plotted how to truly apologize to Chester.

---------

✨ending notes✨: thank you to the anon who submitted the ask about Chester! I love him so, I swear I do! 🤣 I'm sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoyed a bit of fluff! This was very self indulgent and I will be bringing back these puppies lmao! 😌tell me what you think and as always, thank you so much for reading!!! 💜✨💕💖✨

💕tag list:💕 @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @harmshake @misskiki90 @thadelightfulone

@ms-angiealsina @mcondance

[rememberingliampayne]

Dear Liam,

It has been a privilege to witness your journey over the years. I still remember your debut on The X Factor at just 14, where you stood out from the beginning. When One Direction was formed, I cheered for you and the boys, captivated by your authenticity and relatability. I even had the pleasure of watching you all perform once—an experience I will treasure.

While I may not be a traditional Directioner, you always held a special place in my heart. I’ve rooted for you as you navigated the challenges of leaving the band and pursuing your solo career. I believe in your potential and can envision you transitioning into presenting, with your charming personality reminiscent of Robbie Williams and Olly Murs. Your solo music, often underrated, showcased incredible artistry and style.

Hearing about the abuse you faced in recent years truly pains me. Please know that not everyone felt that way about you. I followed your story, including your struggles with mental health and addiction. The immense pressure you faced from such a young age—endless world tours and creating five albums in just five years—is unimaginable. You and the boys worked harder than any other band, always with kindness and love for your fans. The toll it took on you all breaks my heart.

You faced challenges that most people couldn’t imagine, all under relentless scrutiny. You didn’t have the luxury of growing and learning about yourself without the whole world watching. Yet, through it all, you showed up for your fans, pouring your heart into every performance and interaction.

Thank you for everything you gave us. Your unwavering dedication and the joy you brought to so many will never be forgotten. I’ll never accept that we lost you at just 31. The world has lost not only an amazing talent but a generous, kind, and beautiful soul.

Rest in peace, Liam. You will be so sadly missed. Your legacy will forever live on in the hearts of all who admire you. Love and condolences to Bear, Cheryl, your family, and all the boys of One Direction, who must all be heartbroken.

With love Ches

[powderblueblood]

POWDER. 29. SHE/THEY. WRITER. SCORPIO. 18+ ONLY.

i love all my children equally but bold are characters i am always super keen to write, italicised are characters i have less experience writing but am always happy to explore. this list is constantly evolving.

STRANGER THINGS — eddie munson, robin buckley, steve harrington, ronnie ecker, al munson, nancy wheeler RIVERDALE — veronica lodge, jughead jones, cheryl blossom JUSTIFIED — raylan givens, boyd crowder THE BEAR — carmen berzatto, sydney adamu, richie jermovich POKER FACE— charlie cale SUCCESSION — roman roy THE VAMPIRE DIARIES — bonnie bennett, damon salvatore, katherine pierce

SHIPS I'LL WRITE FOR — every single one of the characters above x reader, ronance, platonic!steddie, platonic!stobin, platonic!rennie, boydraylan jeronica, choni, sydcarmy, sydrichie,

TROPES I GO FERAL FOR — enemies to lovers, partners in crime, divorced couple energy, reluctant soulmates, grumpy + sunshine, pathetic lovedrunk moaning men, high status cunt women, mischievous little bastards, witches, vampires, ghosts, psychics, religious trauma, low-rent criminal enterprises, parental issues that are almost biblical, small towns with secrets that are too dark to keep

WHAT I WRITE — snark, angst, smut, fluff, dick jokes — i'm certifiably canon divergent in... almost everything

WHAT I DON'T — rpf, anything non-con, ddlg (but i'm not opposed to a reasonable age gap let's be real), m x m smut (couldn’t do it justice, could just do it dick jokes)

FIND PROMPTS HERE.

[dearly]

Under-18s should not be pushed into pop stardom, one of the UK’s leading songwriters has said, in the wake of the tragic death of former One Direction star Liam Payne.

As Payne’s father, Geoff, arrived in Buenos Aires, Argentina, to arrange the repatriation of his son’s body, fans were still taking in the news of the 31-year-old’s fall from a third-floor hotel balcony. Many also joined the Girls Aloud singer Cheryl Tweedy, an ex-partner, in decrying the lurid coverage of Payne’s death scene in some news outlets.

Speaking this weekend, Guy Cham­bers, the songwriter and friend of Robbie Williams, has called for the industry to hold back from working with talent under the age of 18. “I do think putting a 16-year-old in an adult world like that is potentially really damaging. Robbie experienced that, certainly,” he told the Observer.

The need for better protection for vulnerable young male pop stars has gained urgency in the aftermath of Payne’s death, prompted by criticism of the music industry’s treatment of the former teenage star, who had spoken of his struggles to find mental stability after his sudden fame as a member of One Direction.

The band was formed on ITV’s The X Factor in 2010, when a 16-year-old Payne came back for a second audition on the talent show and joined up with Harry Styles and fellow members. One of the show’s judges was Tweedy, with whom he later had a child, Bear, who is now seven. Payne had first auditioned for the show aged only 14.

Louis Theroux, executive producer of the upcoming BBC series Boybands Forever has spoken of the perils of “getting everything you dreamed of, and it not being what you imagined”.

Theroux’s new series, which goes out on BBC2 in the middle of next month and was made with his wife, Nancy Strang, will look at both the dramatic highs of gaining instant fame and the contrasting depths of despair it can prompt. With “searingly honest” contributions from Williams, formerly of Take That, and Brian McFadden of Westlife, it focuses on the earlier years of the boyband ­phenomenon in Britain and Ireland, from the 1990s to the late 2000s.

Talking about his year-long work on the show, Theroux said the artists will discuss their “highs and lows” over three episodes that centre “on a generation of young men and their managers, who were wildly successful and also immensely vulnerable, having the times of their lives and, also, in some cases, cracking up.”

Due to the death of Payne, issues the series examines have already prompted leading names in the British music industry to urge action.

Chambers said: “I have four children, so I think about this a lot. I know in Robbie’s case, with Take That, there wasn’t any proper protection set up to look after what were teenage boys. That was a long time ago, but I don’t see much sign of change. There is not much more real care taken, that I have observed, from people involved in the big television talent shows.”

Chambers, who co-wrote the hits Angels and Let Me Entertain You with Williams, believes the entertainment business should set new standards: “I would suggest that people should not be in a boyband until they are 18, and the industry should stick to that, too.”

These worries are echoed by Mike Smith, the former music industry boss at Warner/Chappell, who has also worked at EMI and Columbia. “I am not sure if it is something for ­legislation, but the longer a young person can postpone a career in music the better,” he said.

“Of course, there is nothing wrong with forming a band in your teens, but my admiration goes out to anyone who comes out of an early professional career in good mental shape. I signed a young Irish band called the Strypes once, and I was uncomfortable with the level of responsibility I felt. People are still immature at 16, so the very thought of going through all that madness when you have no idea who you are yet is alarming.”

However, Smith, who has worked with many bands and singers, including Blur, Robbie Williams, Supergrass and Arctic Monkeys, as well as the X Factor winner Matt Cardle, believes there is now much more caution about handling young singers and songwriters.

“When I was at Warners in 2018, we did improve on this. We set up a fund in the contract of our songwriters to cover their mental health care because we were seeing around 25% of them suffering anxiety or depression – and these were not even the frontline pop stars.

“Around that time, the major music companies were all doing similar things to help – taking people on to the payroll to advise the artists and their staff. That wasn’t around early enough for Robbie, I know, but it is better now, partly because we are having the conversations about it.

“I don’t think I really understood it earlier. But what hasn’t changed, of course, is the incredible pressure these young artists are under. Everyone expects you to be living your best life, but then you find you can’t function. People want you to be happy all the time and you are constantly scrutinised.”

[ghostlylou]

RIP Liam Payne 10/16/2024

I went through all of my emails, passwords, and tumblr accounts to find this old 1d account to post this.

I haven't followed much 1D news since the band split up and after discovering recently about how Liam treated Maya...I don't condone or support any of his behavior in the past (or current) but I just want to send my condolences to his family, the boys, his friends, Cheryl, and especially his son, Bear, who has to be told that his dad is no longer going to be coming home. I'm especially sorry for Louis, Zayn, Harry, and Niall who lost a brother today. Liam's mother for losing a son. And to Cheryl who lost her son's father.

I have been a 1D fan from 2010-2015 and it breaks my heart to hear this knews about Liam. Especially when we all knew he wasn't doing well after the band split up. Deep in my heart I knew that one of the boys (or all of them) would go off the deep end because of how the industry treated them. How Simon Cowell, Dan Wooton, TMZ, The X Factor and their own management, as a whole have treated them. Those boys were undoubtedly abused for years and were never given help that they so desperately needed.

I would like to say this to the remaining One Direction members.

You are loved by many but PLESE, PLEASE, PLEASE, get help if you need it. Do not end up like Liam. We understand you have been through traumas that the industry put you through and it may not be comfortable talking about them. - BUT IT IS NOT WORTH YOUR LIFE. Whether Liam fell, jumped or was pushed off that balcony (we may never know) - the One Direction fandom as whole - knows that Liam was not okay. And he wasn't for a LONG time. Please be safe and know that you are loved by many.

xoxo,

A Directioner

[zot3-flopped]

I can’t actually believe it. I thought it was just some wild rumor on x/twitter about Liam but to see it’s real is bizarre. And that he was under the influence is worse. I feel bad for the people in his life.

I didn't believe it at first either. Imagine Cheryl having to break the news to poor little Bear.

[princess-chocolate-drop]

I started this blog off as a One Direction blog back in 2011. My best friend (Kristi) texted me an article with the news and I just sat on the floor crying and called my best friend of 15 years, Madie. I saw them three times. Once with my mom and twice with Madie. Countless hours spent watching the video diaries, X-Factor performances, SNL, iCarly, This Is Us, etc. all those late nights/early mornings reading fanfics on here and watpad. These boys were my life. I can’t believe Daddy Payno is gone. It doesn’t feel real. My feet are numb.

I can’t imagine what the boys, his family, Cheryl and Bear are going through right now.

I’m in utter shock.

And FUCK TMZ

[hockeymusicmore]

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[saulwexler]

what'd you think is more catholic coded, nacho and all the parallelisms with jesus and all that stuff, or the rightful holy repentance through punishment and suffering of mcwexler 🛐

as the world's shittiest former-catholic, i'm really glad you asked!

would it be bad if i said mcwexler is more catholic than this 😬

way smarter people have discussed nacho and any input would be lovely. personally i respect nacho’s role as scapegoat, ransom to the devil, and shirtless guy coated in oil – but even if the aesthetic is👌 comparisons sort of start and end their for me 🤷🏻‍♀️ nacho’s morally gray and therefore not catholic-coded enough. but the catholic lense of  confession, penance, and redemption is just soooo mcwexler<3

thinking about jimmy’s two versions of the heisenberg story, and how by elevating his involvement from victim to accomplice helped regain his soul according to gould:

"Jimmy gets his soul back. But he’s going to be incarcerated for some amount of time. And that just felt right (x)"/ "I don't know if he's redeemed himself... but he has won his humanity back (x)"

the soul as something that can be gained/lost gives general christian vibes, but there elements that feel specifically catholic to me"

(1) the sacrament of reconciliation: really, the *only* sin god cannot forgive is failure to repent for mortal sins. jimmy’s first confession to marie fails this, but on second go around jimmy *does* confesses to a mortal sin (adulation with deliberate consent). and since confession 2 was voluntary, thats 79 years of self-imposed soul-saving penance (bonus points for the insurance thing – confession is also a salve for guilt).

(3) satisfactory punishment. when walt et al. selfishly died without repenting, they left an imbalance in the moral universe. luckily, catholics believe one may follow christ’s example and bear another's cross. by accepting full blame in building walt’s empire he can pay walt’s debts and restore balance.

(4) penance as medicinal: a self-induced punishment should equal the pleasure obtained while sinning through self-denial. take the opening and final scene of s6: gaudy lust-filled den of sin (damanged soul) is contrasted by barbed wire and slave-labor bread (healed soul). so a prison where he can have ice cream and golf would not do!

It felt right that Saul has been in court so many times as an attorney, and now he's there as a prisoner. And it felt right that he's made a mockery of the justice system, and now he's part of it. He's gone from being one of the people in the courtroom who runs the courtroom to be the subject. And that just felt right (x)

importantly, punishment is meant to help the sinner only – the 79 years do not meaningfully improve the lives of the victims or others involved (jimmy did not save kim from consequences nor would she want him to – idk why so many reporters think this???). kim’s confession is not as catholic, since giving cheryl closure is somewhat beneficial. but penance is a moral good in itself.

I personally don’t think what he’s doing is to save her from being implicated. She has already confessed to exactly what she did. There’s nothing Jimmy can save her from with that. Yeah. But I do think that those last moments in the courtroom are the two of them seeing each other without masks, like they used to (x)

(5) virtue of good works (this one's such a stretch): after regaining god’s grace, mcwexler can once again be given the virtues that were lost upon mortal sin, such as giving and receiving love from each other/ acts of charity (legal aid). other virtues (prudence, fortitude, temperance, humility) are woven into this too - regaining these virtues helps jimmy go from near-strangler to stable human without years of therapy.

with all that, no one suffered more than the girl writing this

[blacksapphicguide]

Riverdale (TV series)

2010s TV series (Completed). Drama, Mystery, Crime, Romance.

Plot points:

Based on the Archie comics.

Darker themes: surrounding murder.

Inappropriate age-gap relationship.

Competition among female characters; power dynamics and male attention influence.

Familial relationships - dysfunctional and functional.

High school environment and dynamics.

Murder investigations.

Solving of mysteries.

Coming-of-age.

Trauma, and dealing with trauma.

Supernatural drama.

Cults.

Time-travel drama.

Multiple LGBT characters.

Sapphic couples - black and interracial.

TW:// *see below*

Black sapphic characters:

Toni Topaz [bisexual] Vanessa Morgan Thomasina Topaz [bisexual] Vanessa Morgan Melody Valentine [lesbian] Asha Bromfield Nancy Woods [lesbian] Djouliet Amara

Connections:

Toni x Cheryl [Choni/ Cheroni/ Chopaz/ Red Serpent] (interracial sapphic couple: black Native x white) x Peaches N' Cream [Tonipeach] (black diverse sapphic: black Native x black) Thomasina x Abigail (interracial sapphic couple: black Native x white) Melody x Nancy (black lesbian couple) x Ginger (interracial lesbian couple: black x white latina)

Sex & Nudity - Moderate

Multiple shirtless and in-bra scenes.

Mild sex scene (no nudity, shirtless).

Implications of sex.

Themes of prostitution.

Foreplay.

Violence & Gore - Moderate

Display of a dead bodies.

Character is hanging on a board with multiple bloodied wounds.

Bear attack.

Display of hanging suicide.

Character is tied up and branded.

Gang violence.

Murder.

Display of a serial killer.

Setting someone on fire.

Character getting shot in the head.

Profanity - Mild

Vulgar expressions for sex.

Use of ass, asshole,, bastard, hell, bitch, idiot, etc.

Alcohol, Drugs & Smoking - Mild

Drugs: implication of taking prescription pills that aren't needed.

Character gets hooked on a fictional drug.

Minor character overdose.

Alcohol: Social drinking.

Alcoholic characters are present.

Smoking: Occasional cigar smoking.

Frightening & Intense Scenes - High

Character bashed their head into a locker multiple times. Blood and frothing at the mouth are seen.

Bullying with physical altercations.

Implied cannibalism.

Revealing of self-harm scars.

Character gets sent to conversion therapy.

Character gets hit by a car and dies from the injuries.

Characters jumping out of windows.

Use of weapons - guns.

Verbal abuse by a parent toward their child.

Instances of suicide, cults, pedophilia, organ harvesting, incest, and the likes.

[liege-of-the-bees]

S7e19: The Golden Age of Television

Let's go Angel Tabitha!

Riverdale is not utopian

THE LITTLE GAY LEAN ON THE BOMB

Finally Featherhead is gone

Mr Cooper moving into the basement AS HE DESERVES

Yeah, it's the 50s. If Alice divorces it's not like she's gonna have many rights

NANA ROSE

OH GOD ARCHIE AND REGGIE ARE SO GAY

Veronica filmmaker era!

Weatherbee returning?

Weatherbee returning!

The Weatherbee actor really gave his whole ussy into that performance ngl

EVELYN

Aw Archie :)

DANCE BATTLE TIME

Cheryl I love you

THE SCREAM

They're allies x

OK I get that Mr Fieldstone is being nice but he has just essentially fired Jughead on the spot

HER MANIFESTO

KELLER AND FRANK???

THE HOMOPHOBIC DADS???

They probably call each other slurs during sex

Betty you talk about fucking in that book

Betty: 'Mom you should masturbate'

They really should have developed Clay more bc I love him and I just want him to be happy :(

Archie farmboy era!

Reggie kiss your boyfriend

They love each other so much I just want them to be old gay men together

Betty and Alice have such generational trauma :(

TABITHA

Binge watching Riverdale is now a plot point in Riverdale so real

Tabitha my sewing queen

The Matrix dilemma?

The gayest season ending on a reference to a film that is famously a trans metaphor

'I was a footballer, a soldier, denser, heavier, also invulnerable'

'Please Jughead, show us, we want to know if we're lesbians'

You sure did kill those men Veronica

That's fair Kevin I wouldn't want to see pre-season-7 Kevin either

THE BEAR

The superpowers were good fuck you

I have such angsty feelings about Tabitha :(

My child :(

I am a Jabitha feeling haver first and a human second :(

Yeah that makes sense. Jughead is too much of a nosy bitch to want to forget anything

[eveandtheturtles]

All 4-1 Challenge Summer Surprise Part 3

Summary: The turtles continue the vacationing, Leo finally relaxes but Donnie and Kara have their own evil plans. Part 1, Part 2

Ships: Turtles (+Jennika) x OCs

A/N: The name Sprinkles is borrowed from And, Love fic by @madammuffins You totally should check out their Love series for TMNT. Also two parts in 1 day! eyyy.

Tagging: @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @sharpwindow @pheradream-15 @m1dnyt3-w0lf @scholastic-dragon @tinkabelle19

“What time zone are you in?” Splinter's voice on the other end of the line made Leo smile a little.

"The same as you are, dad, we're just further south," he explained. "Is everything okay on your end? Verne's coming to visit you? Are you taking your medicine?"

"Yes, yes, stop worrying, Leonardo, you're on holidays!" Splinter scolded him gently, amused. You'd wonder who at this point was the son and who the father. "Enjoy yourself my son."

"Oh, he is Master Splinter!" Amelia leaned in over Leo, interrupting the call. "We're all hard at work to make sure he does!"

"And for that I'm grateful my child!" Splinter replied with laughter.

It was day 3 of their island adventure. Everyone managed to kepp Leo away from the phone for one and a half of a day, not counting the day of the arrival in their attempts.

It was the late morning at the beach. Jennika, Raph and Mikey were swim racing. Cheryl, Mirka and Amelia were lounging on the towels, catching some sun while Kara and Donnie were engineering some sort of sand fortress. Peter and Sprinkles were cheering for the racers.

Leo smiled, feeling the rays of the sun warm his skin up. This... this was so nice. He stretched and laid down next to Amelia. She looked at him warmly and scatched his head. Maybe he really did deserve to rest?

--88--

<I think we are about 89% done.> Kara admired her and Donnie's creation. <How's our water access?>

<The water pump needs small tweaking but it should be good to go either way,> Donnie said.

The duo grinned and picked up from the fortress' floor two SuperSoakers. Slightly modified by the genius couple.

--88--

Mikey lost his interest in the race quite quickly. He was too distracted by the colourful coral reef below the surface of the ocean. He left behind Jennika and Raph.

Nothing like this in the sewers of New York. He watched a manta ray majestically swim by. A sea turtle was eating some crab. There were so many colourful fish and other critters. Mikey was just enchanted by it all. He wanted to stay there forever.

--88--

"I totally won!" Raph snorted the sea water, trying to push it out of his nose.

Jennika shoved him. "Bull! Guys! It had to be me!" She looked at both Peter and Sprinkles.

"Sorry, Raph, Jenni won," Peter confirmed.

"HA!" Jennika stuck her tongue at Raph then laughed and ran to Cheryl. "Cherrybomb! I won!"

"That's great hu- NO! DON'T TOUCH ME YOU'RE COLD AND WE-" Rest of the sentence was dissolved in shrieks and manical laughter.

Raph huffed and glared after the female turtle. He'll win next time.

"Where's Mikey?" Sprinkles frowned and looked around.

Peter looked around. "I can't see him."

"He threw in the race after third lap!" Raph called back, unbothered. "Mirka! cheer me up!" He opened up his arms approaching the sunbathing group.

Cheryl was still trying to fight off her girlfriend. Mirka looked up. Seeing their boyfriend approach with similar intent as Jenni, they got up and started backing away.

"No! Stay back, you FUAAAAA!!" They got grabbed in a bear hug and picked up in the air.

Leo's eye cracked open. "Are they dying?"

"Nope," Amelia replied, glad she wasn't involved in the shenanigans of the two bruisers.

"A'igh." Leo's eye closed.

Suddenly Donnie's voice boomed across the beach.

"Attention vacationers!"

He and Kara were standing on top of their structure, which they have been building for the past two days. Both had SuperSoakers in their hands, posing like in an action film.

"There are weapons hidden across this beach! May the best win!" He finished on sinister note.

"What the f-" Raph started then a sharp stream of see water hit him straight in the mouth.

Everyone, except Leo, scrambled for cover.

"The fuck you mean there are weapon?" Amelia started searching sand with her hands.

Jennika eyed a particularly odd shaped rock and lifted it up. Under it she found a cache of water filled balloons and a couple of water pistols. "I guess this." She grinned sinisterly grabbing a ballon.

Amelia and Jennika exchanged looks. "Oh, it's on."

The beach turned in a full blown battle, with random alliences forming and dissolving. But everyone (minus Leo and Mikey) came together to take down the Fortress. It was a tough and historical battle as Donnie and Kara prepared traps for the brave souls willing to storm their stronghold.

The fight has been fierce but the two overlords have been finally defeated by the people.

Cheers and laughter has erupted as the Beach Water Battle of 2023 has concluded.

<So this leaves only one thing,> Kara signed after tossing her weapon aside.

Everyone looked at her in high spirit, wondering what else there was. Slowly, she pointed to Leo who was still basking peacefully despite the chaos that had happened around him. Everyone grinned.

Leo was woken up by a feeling. A gut feeling he was in danger. The shadow has fell over him. He rolled to his side and looked at the circle of people around him. He noticed the water balloons.

"Hiiii, Leeeooo~," Jennika greeted him. "Didja have a good nap?"

"Uh-huh..." Slowly, as carefully as he could, he readied his body for the only one possible solution in this... He sprung up to run.

"Get him!!"

And that was the scene Mikey walked in on coming back from the ocean.

"What did I miss??" He looked confused at Sprinkles who decided to sit out the great Leo derby.

"A water fight," Sprinkles replied and looked at the fishing net full of crabs. "Watcha got there?"

"Dinner!"

[thelilbabyblues]

also im like super into policemen dont be surprised abt that lmao

im a PROUD HOWARD APOLOGIST i do not accept criticism abt him and i will not draw any requests related to things such as:

howard happily with cheryl (i hate her), jimmy being a top in any way (hes not), or any character with an OC as a ship (like howard x reader). i dotn like that stuff. other than that, i do a lot of shipping, one of my fav things to draw. i also will draw howard (and jimmy) in dresses and pretty clothes, but suits are top priority for me. i dont rlly know how tumblr works, im new to this so please bear with me. ill also be using a simpler artstyle msot of the time and doing lots of doodles bc i am a very busy person irl.

thank u for reading this, love u all!!

p.s. im also a laloward shipper throw any of it at me ill gladly eat it