#dee's silly words

[katyawooga]

something something sevika using ejaculating shimmer strap... something something rabid sex on a shimmer high... something something i need this woman more than i need air to breathe ......

[jojo-schmo]

I'm updating my personal ref sheets and it's really hitting me just how SMOL Kirby, Bandee, and Elfilis really are compared to the rest of the cast.

[nokk0]

Lots of doodles of Fal with Starstruck Dee!! @starflungwaddledee

Originally supposed to be for the Shipganza event but since I picture their interactions as platonic friendship, these don't count in the event...

[lightgriffinsect]

not really related to last post but psychic really is better friends w repression than void is huh /lhj

[the-pea-and-the-sun]

conjuring an alternate dimension version of the looney tunes show in my mind where bugs is a washed up celebrity in LA and daffy and porky are out of work actors a la its always sunny on tv and the show follows bugs' transition journey

[keeps-ache]

i finally have to block a fandom tag bfhsv 💥

[jinwoosbabyboo]

I have a silly thought that I would like to share with you. Sometimes, I make random noises as a sort of verbal keysmash. Wouldn't it be funny if the verbal keysmashes were somehow Lemurian swear words? Or an old Philos curse?

Gibberish … Maybe?

How I imagine the LADS men reacting to you accidentally saying something in another language. Whole time you just made a random noise and have no clue what they’re even talking about. A/N: Imagine saying "manamana doot dee de dee tee" and they think you just cursed them out in a different language

Zayne

Doorways and staircases really suck sometimes because why did you completely forget what you came in the kitchen for as soon as you walked through the cased opening. You stood there dumbfounded and made a random noise which you could only refer to as a ‘verbal keyboard smash’

Zayne: Where did you learn that? MC: Learn what? Zayne: You just said ‘Forevermore’ in latin MC: I literally made the most random noise my brain could think of Zayne: That was latin clear as day MC: How the hell do you know latin? Zayne: I studied it MC: Why? Zayne: Why not?

From then on Zayne sends you random quotes in latin just to see if you can tell what they say. You keep telling him you never learned latin and have no clue what he’s talking about. After months of him teaching you bits of latin you two have your own little secret language now.

Rafayel

Your brain must've stopped working for a second because here you are opening the oven with your left hand and reaching in with your right hand. The problem? The oven mitt is on your left hand. Just as the tip of your finger is about to hit the edge of that scalding hot cookie sheet you pull your hand back making the most random shocked noise.

Rafayel: What did you just call me? MC: What are you talking about? Rafayel: You just basically called me a barnacle muncher in glubbanese MC: Glubba what?! Rafayel: Who taught you that? MC: Nobody taught me anything what in the blue fuck are you talking about? Rafayel: Are you seeing other Lemurians? MC: I made a random noise Raf get outta my ear with all this

You turned to pull your baked goods out of the oven and set them on the stove. You quickly turned the oven off before turning back to him.

MC: Also aren’t you the only Lemurian left Rafayel: Me and my aunt Talia … wait!

He grips you by the shoulders

Rafayel: Was it her?! I knew it! I'll be back MC: NO! I-

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence as he turned on his heels and made a beeline for the front door. You try to stop him from storming out the door, but he was too fast. You stare at the door dumbfounded because you still have no clue what the actual fuck glubbanese is.

Xavier

Xavier was the perfect body pillow to lean against while you read a book. Perhaps you were a little too immersed in your book because when the major plot twist came the most unintelligible string of gibberish came out of your mouth. You felt Xavier stiffen behind you which broke you immersion.

MC: What's wrong? Xavier: Why did you say that? MC: Say what? Xavier: You just said something rather strange in Philosian MC: I said what in philosophy? Xavier: I’d rather not repeat it MC: Xav I literally just made a random noise Xavier: Well that random noise is ‘hairy anus’ in philosian MC: WHAT???

You sat up so fast you somehow managed to fall off the couch hitting your elbow on the coffee table. Xavier pulled you back onto the couch checking to make sure you were okay before you notice the grin he’s trying to hold back. He finds this whole thing hilarious.

MC: Stop laughing! Xavier: I should’ve known you didn’t mean to say that MC: I didn’t say anything I made a random noise Xavier: I’m sure you’ll be more careful next time MC: If Philosian sounds like random throat noises then yea I guess I'll be more careful

Sylus

You were laying on the plush couch in Sylus’ study while he was taking a few business calls. He said he would be done soon however the boredom was getting to you. With absolutely zero thought you blurted out a random noise. You didn’t think much of it until you looked over and saw Sylus starring at you; his brows furrowed and his head cocked. You sat up confused on why he was looking at you as if you’d just called him a no neck bitch or something.

Sylus: Where did you learn that? And when? MC: Learn what? Sylus: You just tried to curse me MC: I didn’t do anything…… Sylus: That was a curse in ancient Philosian MC: That was random gibberish Sylus: …. MC: Fix your face Sylus: Trying to get rid of me sweetie? MC: I’m not trying to do anything! Sylus: Unfortunately for you those curses don’t work on me you’ll have to try something else MC: What in the blue hell do you mean ‘try something else’ I didn’t try anything in the first place!

Ever since you supposedly tried to curse him in a language you’d never heard of he’s constantly teasing you. He checks in from time to time to see if you’ve taught yourself any new spells and you tell him the same thing every time.

MC: Sylus it was a random noise Sylus: Keep telling yourself that Sorceress

[mspopstar]

What were the movies that Susie and King Dedede made like?

Thanks to Haltman Works' Company's Entertainment and Media division I was able to utilize its funds, assets, and technology to the fullest extent, well the extent that his Highness allowed for me to use. There were some limitations he put on, something about keeping the charm of 'practical FX' or whatever. Such as only allowing robotics to be used for enemies that our actors would destroy. How gruesome, right? I don't understand it, but I obliged. He knew a few work arounds, like painting the Waddle Dee who played Magolor's feet green so that in post it looks as if he was floating. How rudimentary and yet I found it so silly too! The movie production was fun, and there were hiccups here and there such as the insistence on one of our actors to not play as Zero! It was only a short flashback, the poor thing turned pale as the body paint when we brought out the fake blood and King Dedede came from the VFX team! Then there was Green Kirby, or formally known as Kusa Mochi, who for some reason kept picking apart each and every rendition of our script. How infuriating! But alas, we made it through and we're still making more! It's always fun and sometimes I get a friend like Magolor to help. Now if I had to be honest, which I'm usually not, I would not say the movies are good in terms of quality especially the acting, but I know on some planets they're regarded as "so-bad it's good" so at the very least there is that, however, I believe that a high percentage of Dream Land nat- inhabitants, enjoy them and regard them at the height of cinema so there's that to be proud of! Oh, and King Dedede is a wonderful co-director and he's surprisingly a great actor when it came down to his scenes in particular he can really put emotion into his words.

He made the entire thing a lot of fun and after our current production we want to start working on something called 'The Dark Matter Trilogy, a King's Retelling' and while I know it will all be just one big ego stroke for his Highness, I still can't wait.

-Executive Secretary Susie P. Haltmann.

[sp00kymulderr]

it might be nice

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. FEELINGS. Angst. love. just...feelings. Mention of f receiving oral, reader is a not a us-citizen (visa stuff), commitment and intimacy issues all round, did I mentioned feelings? This just kinda started writing itself, i appreciate there isn't enough Dieter in it but it is what it is. Unedited, unbeta'd.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now.

"We could get married"

You look up from your book, drawn back from your far away to the sound of his voice. Dieter is looking at you expectantly.

Your eyes widen as you process the four words that just left his mouth.

"Dee, we…why would we…" You trail off, drawing your legs up and out of his lap, his thumb presses down on the arch of your foot once more before he lets it go.

The conversation had moved on hours ago. Over takeout you'd mentioned trepidation over being able to stay in the country, struggling with your visa and having no sponsorship since you couldn't seem to get a fucking job right now.

Dieter had listened, sympathised, and then eaten you out for dessert just to make you feel better about your situation.

It helped. He'd been pretty mediocre but extremely enthusiastic when you'd met, but now you'd taught him some tricks he knew just how to turn your mind off for a moment.

The conversation was finished the moment he put his mouth on you, or so you thought. He could help you pay for an extension but he wasn't influential or wealthy enough to sway the embassy into letting you stay longer.

"I'd bribe the fuck out of them if I could, you know that"

You did know that. You knew he'd do anything for you. He'd been saying it since the day he met you, once famous (more like infamous) movie star turned rehabilitated recluse with no one willing to be by his side until that day.

He'd met you in a Dennys, of all places. 3am waffles served to his lonely little corner booth because he found it hard to sleep these days, and he got hungry at random times. You took the late shifts because they paid the best, and you could be available in the day for calls from your agent that never came.

It hadn't been sexual at first. It hadn't been anything but a displaced, alone man and an exhausted, untethered waitress sitting in a booth and sharing free fries because chef made too many and they'd only go to waste. It had been whispered giggles, and sharing ridiculous Hollywood horror stories, and 'same time tomorrow' over and over again.

No one in LA had made you laugh. Not until you met him.

Dieter hadn't heard genuine laughter in years. Now he got to hear it every night.

Back in the now, you shake your head. He's being silly. He's trying to make you laugh again.

"Don't be stupid" You playfully shove his shoulder with your foot, but his face falls into a frown, and you feel a little crack in your heart at the sight. You watch as he stands, rubbing fingers across his forearm and muttering a little 'Stupid, yeah'. The tremor you feel inside you is nameless, and you will it to remain that way.

In the last six months of your knowing each other, there have been times when you've felt this same feeling. An ache at the thought that he could be anything other than happy. You'd long since left Dennys for the upward trajectory of the Cheesecake Factory but still when the late shift rolls around you feel a tug at your lips and a name on them, even when you'd seen him only hours before.

You're not an item, that's the thing. You're not a couple. Neither of you have ever said the words outright, no 'I want to be with you', 'I want to be yours'. Not to each other, at least.

It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now. It's enough, it's enough, it's enough. Enough that he will sit up all night long and read lines with you again and again and again. Enough that he tells you not to come over on his bad days but you do anyway, and hold him while he cries.

It's enough to be just this. Because more would only make it hurt more when he relapses, when you have to leave.

When you have to leave…

You close your book, set it down on the table that's strewn with pages for your latest audition. Last night he'd coached you through every single line, and then told you with passion just how perfect you were. You can hear him in the kitchen, and you know he's making himself a decaf latte with way too much caramel syrup and a dash of the kitkat sprinkles because that's what he always makes when he might be starting to crave something else.

That's how you know he wasn't making a joke. That's how you know your hurt his feelings. That and every look he's ever given you, every smile that lights up his eyes that's only been for you. That and the way his hands never stray far from you, always grounding himself with the touch of your skin to his.

"Dee…" You pad up to him slowly, watch as he tenses at your presence. Another prickle in your chest, you can't let him think you don't feel...what it is that you feel.

"Would it be so bad?" He asks without turning, the tinge of dejection in his tone making you reach out. "I'd treat you good, you know. We wouldn't even have to live together or anything…it can just be a way for you to stay. That's all. I didn't think it would be so bad for you"

God, you've had him right in your grasp this whole time. The two of you dancing around your feelings all because of fears you didn't even fully realise you had til now.

"I'd- I wouldn't even tell anyone you were my wife, if you didn't want me to. I wouldn't expect anything from it. I just…fuck,"

You turn him around with a pull to his arm, shake your head and bite back something hopeful and beautiful that inches up your throat,

"I don't want you to go"

Your arms are around his middle, a stifled sob as you bury your face against the soft, worn fabric of his favourite t-shirt - your favourite by extension because everything he loves you love too. He smells like him.

You breathe him in.

He smells like home.

You look up at him and smile. Not the pretty smile you give to casting agents - the one that makes you look perfect - but the big, happy, loving one he saw the very first night you two met in that Dennys at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. The one he gives you back is the same; he's smiled a thousand times on camera, in films and press appearances and award shows. No one else but you has ever seen this smile.

You take a deep breath. The crack in your heart starts in fusing back together.

"We could get married"

[scaredycatqlt]

Any headcanons for Dee bonding with someone over his secret love for MLP? They just happen to find out and that kinda starts the friendship/budding romance??

Hehehehe, silly <3 also sorry it’s taking me literally FOREVER to get myself to write.

Dee X Reader, Bonding over MLP. [Can be read as either romantic or platonic.]

Honestly, I don’t know exactly how he’d figure out you guys were both interested in MLP.

It’s not exactly something he actively hides, but it’s definitely not something he’s open about.

He probably saw some MLP merch you had, probably an article of clothing or something. He just stares at you, wide-eyed like a fucking weirdo./pos

Keeps side eyeing you. Seriously, this guy has got some stalker tendencies,,,,,,/hj

If you guys are already ‘friends’ (more likely acquaintances.) He may or may not ask you about it.

Imagine if you figured out he liked MLP??

Like, you look over at him during study hall or lunch or something and he’s just watching MLP on his phone (couldn’t be me.)

You gasp and are like ‘OMG you like My Little Pony??? :D’ or idk something like that. Idfk ur personality.

He is EMBARRASSED. Vehemently denies it. The allegations are NOT true‼️‼️

but you saw it. You KNOW.

congrats, you have blackmail!!

You’d have to start asking and engaging in conversation with him about it because he would NOT do that even if you knew about it.

He has a phase of like, just glaring at you. He is so fucking embarrassed you found out,,,.

eventually I feel like he might give in and reply with one-worded or very dry answers.

and if you ask to watch MLP with him, he’d scoff and roll his eyes.

It ends up happening one way or another, at some point.

You probably smile like an idiot at him when you catch him humming one of the super catchy MLP songs under his breath.

The absolute GLARE this boy gives you, ISTG. He is like,,,trying to KILL YOU with his eyes.

I am literally begging PLEASE buy him brown eye contacts-

This was actually such a silly thing to write for, I love it <33

[katyawooga]

hi all!!! my last two finals are tomorrow and after i'm done with them i'll finally be getting around to the asks i have sitting in my drafts :3

[angelpuns]

50Au Part 11

“FUCKING! I CAN’T BELIEVE- I'M GONNA KILL HIM WHEN WE GET OUT IF HERE!” Donnie growled, summoning some sort of definitely-too-big-for-the-lair-gun. 

Raph wasn't always the most cautious before, but even he knew that wasn't a good idea. 

“Dee, put that thing away! You're gonna blow the whole lair to smithereens!” He grabbed the back of Donnie's shell like he was a kitten, Donnie hissing and clawing in a much less cute way than a kitten would. 

“PUT ME DOWN RAPH I'M GONNA KILL THAT BLUE BASTARD!” 

“HEY!” 

Donnie stopped struggling so much when Raph raised his voice, which Raph tried not to think too hard about. It made a lump of guilty claw its way up his throat, but Raph cleared it away and put on his ‘ Big Brother Voice’. 

“ Look, I'm pissed at him too, but we can't go bustin' outta here willy-nilly and bust up the lair, ‘kay?” He gave Donnie a look, the softshell grimacing and reluctantly putting the gun away, “ You worked too damn hard sprucin’ this place up and makin’ it home again to just blast it to pieces. Now-”

He set Donnie back down and cracked his knuckles, “ watch your big brother do his thing”

Raph grabbed two of the bars and began to pull. He admittedly wasn't as strong as he used to be, but in his defense he'd been recovering from a lot of shit, so give him a break. 

Still, it shouldn't have been this much of a strain. Where the hell did Leo find this thing!?

“ Not to be a pessimist, Raph, but I don't think its working,” Mikey muttered, leaning over his shoulder to examine the bars, “where did he even get this? There's no way we had it lying around the lair, right?” 

Raph let out a grumble, “c’mon…Raph…Raph can bend ‘em easy,” 

He strained and pulled against the bars, but they were just a little too tough for him. 

There was a ker-chunk and a click and Raph thought maybe he had done it- until he turned and saw that Donnie had summoned some sort of saw tool. 

“ Close your eyes, gentleman. I didn't bring extra safety goggles,” Was the only warning they got before Donnie flicked his goggles down over his eyes and began cutting into the metal. 

It surprisingly worked. Raph looked down at his hands, scarred and rough from both injury and fighting. Damn. Maybe he really was gettin’ weaker. 

It took nearly an hour, but Donnie managed to cut a hole big enough for them to squeeze through. And thankfully none of them ended up getting scratched, cause that was a one way ticket to a tetanus shot. 

“ I was startin' to think that metal was too strong to break,” Raph admitted, chuckling a bit to try and tame the unease he felt. The lingering worry of him becoming weak was like a stone in his stomach, weighing the moment down despite it being s victory. 

“ Well, it was mystic,” Donnie started for the lab, Mikey following behind him and asking what the new, new plan was. Since they had technically had,like, four plans fail now. 

Raph breathed out a momentary sigh of relief. Mystic. Of course. So he wasn't becoming useless after all. 

He followed Donnie and Mikey unto the lab to hear the new, new plan, Donnie already rambling about a hundred miles a minute and cursing Leo out every few words. 

Raph, while he was definitely worried out of his mind, found that he too wanted to grab Leo and shake him til he understood what was going on. 

But of course, he wasn't gonna do that. He'd be happy just to see his face at this point. 

----

Wanted to write a fun silly part. Yes they have issues but also...whimsy.

I think this randomly writing and posting without editing and it being super super unofficial as an au is good for me probably. Let's me fuck around cause there's no stakes for me emotionally. Unless we start to like it too much then I'll probably take it too seriously like I end up doing for everything

Also the only part I have a solid idea for I can't even write yet cause I accidentally made too much lead up and I gotta finish out this first section smfh. I wanna write that part so bad but because this is so spontaneous/unplanned idk what's gonna happen between now and that plot point so :/

Part 1 | Part 10 | Part 11

[applespants]

Fall in Love Again

Orion Pax x D-16

Read on Ao3 Here!

Word Count: 1.6k (under the cut)

Summary: A late night and some high grade end up revealing a lot more than expected.

A/N: lightweight orion pax my beloved... anyways this spawned from me being so unwell after tfone! i'm not sure whether or not i'll add on to this since i have a multichap fic already in the works BUT i love these two so we shall see! i am also a sucker for drunken confessions soooooo yeah! i hope yall enjoy hehee

---

“Primus, you really cannot handle high grade, huh?” D-16 chuckled before taking another swig of his own drink.

Orion Pax blinked his optics slowly. “I can hardly handle you.”

“What does that even mean?”

Orion only hiccuped in response, which signaled to D-16 that it was finally time to go. He gulped down the rest of his high grade and paid the tab before helping Orion out of the chair, the two of them stumbling slightly due to Orion’s processor lagging.

“Why do you get heavier when you’re under the influence?”

“‘Cuz I drank sooooo much high grade— so much that I -hic- I’m at least 50% high grade now,” Orion said. He began to giggle at his own joke, which eventually made him snort. That propelled him into laughter and he threw his head back, nearly knocking him and D-16 over due to their imbalance.

“Easy! This is the last time I take you drinking. How much did you have?”

Orion had trouble focusing his optics when D-16 stared at him. He held up his servos and slowly raised all ten of his digits, one at a time. “Thiiis much.”

D-16 glared at him. “Don’t lie to me.”

Orion frowned with his lip pouted. He lowered his digits so he was only holding up his pointer digit on either servo. “This much…” He said in a slightly defeated tone. D-16 held back a laugh.

“You only had two? You’re worse than I thought.”

Orion narrowed his optics and used his raised digits to poke at D-16’s faceplate. He swatted his servos away with a grumble and Orion began to giggle again. D-16 sighed and rolled his optics. He took Orion’s servo in his own and put his arm over his shoulder so that he could walk him better.

“Careful, Dee—” Orion murmured with a silly grin on his face. He pressed his helm into D-16’s chest while they walked, hiccuping again. “You’ll make me fall in love with you again.”

D-16 grumbled, not entirely registering what Orion had said. “This is the third time I’ve had to walk your sorry aft home, and I’m going to have to deal with your processor-ache in the morning and— wait, what did you say?”

Orion dragged his feet slightly as they continued to walk. His head began to loll back and D-16 adjusted him with his shoulder. “Orion, what did you say just now?”

Orion held up two digits again. “This much?”

“No, no, no, after that. About falling in love with me.”

Orion giggled, though there was a bit of nervousness to his giggles this time. He did not say anything for a few moments, and D-16 slowed his walk when Orion finally spoke.

“Dee, I really—” Orion stared longingly into D-16’s optics, making his vents hitch. He smiled softly and his optics flickered down to D-16’s dermas for just a moment before he looked up again. “I really -hic- I really need to use the restroom.”

D-16 paused for a moment, registering what Orion had said, and then laughed softly. “You’re so weird. C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Orion hummed and nodded, then began to giggle again. D-16 rolled his optics and placed a servo on Orion’s hip to make sure that he did not fall over. Orion placed his servo over D-16’s and tried to lace their digits together. D-16 glanced at Orion, but said nothing in protest otherwise, tightening his grip on Orion’s servo as they walked.

“Dee,” Orion murmured. “Can we sit down for a minute?”

D-16 nodded, guiding Orion to a bench near one of the alleys. D-16 sat him down and stood beside him. Orion looked up at him with a frown and took hold of one of his servos, playing with his digits before pulling him down toward the bench.

“You’re too far away up there. Sit with me,” Orion insisted, and D-16 begrudgingly obeyed. 

“Your processor is going to hate you tomorrow.”

“I only had two, though.”

D-16 could not hold back a laugh this time, thinking of the four that he had himself. He was definitely buzzed, but at least he could walk in a straight line without assistance. Orion continued to play with D-16’s digits, gently tracing the inside of his servo and toying with the tips of his digits. Orion’s touch was soft and ticklish, but it was entertaining him, so D-16 did not try and pull his servo away.

Orion then began to trace up D-16’s arm, feeling every ridge and dent that he had collected over the years in the mines. D-16 had begun to space out, thinking of other things while Orion continued to explore the ridges of his body.

D-16 only came back to reality when Orion was beginning to trace his faceplate. He turned to face Orion, who pulled his servo away without breaking optic contact. “How have I never seen you?”

“What are you talking about? I see you every day,” D-16 chuckled, but Orion shook his helm.

“Maybe I should fall in love with you again… So I can see all of you this time.”

D-16 felt his faceplates warm, and he was sure this time that he had not misheard Orion.

Love? Was Orion… in love with him?

D-16’s processor whirled as he watched Orion, whose optics were trailing up and down his body. Suddenly aware of how much longing was in Orion’s gaze, D-16 stared into his optics and absentmindedly reached for Orion’s servo. Their digits brushed and D-16 flinched slightly despite being the one to initiate the touch.

Orion, despite the state of his processor, confidently took D-16’s servo in his own. He smiled sheepishly and finally tore his gaze away. “Uh oh…”

“‘Uh oh’? Pax, are you okay?” D-16’s intake was dry, his glossa heavy as he fretted over Orion. His chest felt tight, his spark beating fast, and his focus was locked in on Orion, who was now leaning his frame against D-16’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, I just– I think I just fell in love with you again,” Orion sighed, tilting his helm so that he could look at D-16. “You’re mesmerizing.”

D-16 burned. “Pax– Pax you can’t just say stuff like that!” He paused and tightened his grip on Orion’s servo. His glossa felt like lead in his mouth, but he finally mustered up the courage to ask his question. “How did you fall in love with me?”

Orion chuckled, shuttering his optics and leaning closer. “You made it too easy.” He gently lifted the servo that held D-16’s, not letting go as he rocked their servos back and forth in a mindless motion. It had always been a habit of Orion’s to gesture while he talked, and now he was bringing D-16 in. “You’re always– always there for me, and I feel so at home with you.”

D-16 was listening intently to Orion, his spark thrumming as he continued on. “I mean, we do live together, so of course you’re my home, but you’re so much more. You listen to me when no one else will, and every time you speak I feel like I get lost in your voice. You keep me grounded, and I feel like if I were without you–” Orion paused to hiccup, but then did not continue.

D-16 wanted to press Orion for more, wanted to tell him how much he felt for Orion as well, but every word was caught in his intake. They sat in silence for a while, and despite D-16 priding himself on words, he found himself incapable of a response. His processor tried so many times to formulate, but so many things he wanted to say rolled over each other like waves. He felt like he was on an ocean, and all he had to do was drink the water in order to know exactly what to say, but the salinity would rust him, the water would kill him to drink.

So he stayed silent.

Orion shifted after a few moments and pulled away from D-16. The absence of his frame was jolting, and every word that D-16 had tried to formulate suddenly threatened to leap from his throat. Orion was the reckless one, he was the bold one who always took risks that almost never paid off. D-16 was supposed to stay in line and never let his friend go too far. Orion had stepped over a line and was holding his arms open for D-16, but he was afraid to cross that line, no matter how bad he yearned to be with him.

“Dee…” Orion said, so softly that D-16’s audials hardly picked up on it. Words had become so difficult, so elusive. D-16 turned to look at Orion, whose optical ridge was furrowed with worry. “Dee, I don’t feel good.”

Suddenly aware of the situation again, D-16 felt his processor readjust and his spark settle. “Let’s get you back to recharge. C’mere.”

D-16 stood and helped Orion up, more aware of how he touched Orion than ever. He had always kept his feelings close to his chest, and had tried to push them down whenever he was with Orion. But after hearing Orion say how similarly he felt, it was hard to keep the lid on them.

Orion was easy enough to guide back to the dormitories and D-16 helped him into his recharge station. He held onto D-16’s servo, but as he drifted off, his digits slowly loosened until his servo fell down by his side. D-16 watched until Orion was fully in recharge, and then also glanced around the dormitories. Everyone else was either asleep, on their shift, or otherwise not in the general area. D-16 took a deep, shuddering breath and looked once more at Orion. He hesitated for a moment, his servos twitching with indecision, but he finally leaned forward and pressed his dermas to the top of Orion’s helm.

“Goodnight, Orion.”

[fruitcoops]

Hopelessly Devoted

O'Knutzy Week Prompt C2: "Hello, There". Prompts by @oknutzy-week-2024, and characters (of course) (with love) by @lumosinlove <3

TW for joking mentions of romance-novel smut

Leo had never seen someone work as hard as Finn O’Hara. He saw it in the straight line of Finn’s back and the solid set of his shoulders, even when he was calm. He saw it in everything he did—in love and, up until recently, in hockey. He was unequivocal dedication, embodied.

He was sure Finn would say the same about him; he was sweet like that, pretty face and prettier words that were always so honest they made Leo’s ribs hurt with the pounding of his heart. Finn liked to call him brave. Leo had started believing it after the last decade had proven it true in more ways than he cared to count.

And, Christ, Leo counted everything. Endless cycles of goals-assists-saves-loss-win-horror-victory that left him bolting upright at two o’clock in the morning well into his first season of retirement. Netminders kept perfect track of the game and every player coming at them. Remus’ mental playbook of every player in the NHL was only uncanny because he was out of the goal. Leo still remembered the tics and tells of most everyone he’d ever faced.

But what was there to count, now? Beautiful mornings? Those happened every day, though he hadn’t been awake for sunrise in three blessed years. Exotic vacations? He had a wonderful time on their honeymoon (all three of them), but he’d always prefer visiting one of their families.

The pan sizzled softly when he flipped the bagel with a practiced flick of the wrist. Leo smiled to himself. Maybe he should start counting Finn’s annual bacon-egg-and-cheese total. He’d probably come up with the same number if he bought a calendar and ticked the days by hand.

Finn’s commitment to his mid-morning snack was rivaled only by his unwavering passion for bodice-ripper novels, and the evidence of said passion filled their kitchen with a flurry of furious clicking while Leo slid the bagel carefully onto a plate.

See, Leo thought it was a joke, at first. A funny little prank Finn was playing on his new rookie roommate, tucking raunchy paperbacks into the bookshelf between Brontë and Dickens to make him blush. Har-dee-har-har, you got me, I’m such a prude.

Finn had not been joking.

And then it was endearing, like all the other Finn-isms of which he was so fond. It was just…such a silly hobby for an athlete—a former frat boy, no less!—to have in an environment like the NHL. It felt absurdly right that Finn, with his big smile and open heart, would unabashedly love books with oil-paint cover art of a lady fainting into the arms of a conveniently topless bodybuilder. Leo had tucked it into his heart and let it lie.

Finn retired.

Finn was utterly horrific at sitting still.

Finn started with Marie Adkins’ 1942 classic A Rogue for a Lady and ended with Eleanora Zimmerman’s yet-unpublished installment of Zoe Cross’ Cross-Continental Affairs: Volume III, officially clearing the romance collections of all three public libraries near them. His whoop of joy when Ms. Zimmerman answered his email inquiry with a PDF of her manuscript had startled Logan so bad he spilled coffee across the kitchen island and into his lap.

But reading—devouring—the books wasn’t enough. Finn’s systematic rip-through of every literary soap opera he could get his hands on came with an elaborate Goodreads account as well as a nightly debrief.

Leo fucking loved it. Listening to Finn parse out his opinions like an Ivy League lecturer quickly became the best part of his day, especially when the season wound down. It was permanence and consistency while his head whirled with thoughts of this one, just this one single last year and then I’ll really be done, this time for sure. Finn loved hockey like everything else: with no holds barred. He left it, and he was okay. More than okay—he was thriving.

But no hobby was without its faults.

So fucking stupid, Finn had muttered with a sharp shake of his head. I just can’t. It’s a disappointing plot and, worst of all, it’s poorly paced.

Leo and Logan had shared a look across their spaghetti. Finn could give no greater insult to books known for their overdramatic style than ‘poorly paced’.

Well, Logan had said, carefully, almost casually. We all know you’d write it better.

Damn right I would, was Finn’s forceful answer as he stabbed a noodle onto his fork.

Then do it.

Leo had to admit even now that he hadn’t expected that. Perhaps he should have, from Logan. There’s an issue? Solve it. His ‘no more running, no more bullshit’ oath when they were first starting latched into most things he did.

Finn had wavered about it for three days. Once (and only once) he nudged Leo awake at 7:30 in the morning, still sweaty from his run, to ask him if he thought publishing under his real name was a bad idea. He had been forced to mull that one over on his own when Leo banned him from post-shower, mid-coffee cuddles for the crime of dripping sweat onto his pillow.

Finn decided to start writing a book on a Thursday morning in the middle of March, bought a new notebook and a nice pen, and promptly didn’t write a word until his birthday in August.

I’m a failure, he had moaned into Leo’s chest, half-suffocated by the thick fabric of his hoodie. I’m so stupid.

No, baby, you’re not stupid, Leo had soothed. It was a little hard to breathe with the full weight of him splayed useless across Leo’s body, but that was nothing new.

I’ll never write a word. I’m cursed to keep reading forever and being mad about shitty romance with bad, boring characters. The 70s did it best.

Leo remembered sighing in sympathy. But they’re all straight.

But they’re all fucking straight! Finn had groaned. He didn’t move from his puddle of misery and writer’s block until Logan came home and knocked on the back of his head with a pack of pre-sharpened pencils and a cow-print composition book.

Goodreads reviews became graphite smudged on Finn’s hands and cheeks. Small spiral notebooks cropped up around the house, and eventually settled as Finn’s stalwart companions on his morning jogs. When the pencils wore down to nubs, he bought the crappiest pen Leo had ever seen in his life—when that ran dry, he bought another, and a third, and then all the notebooks grew into a teetering tower on Finn’s desk overnight.

A stapler followed, and red pens.

March rolled around again and the tapping of Finn’s laptop became a comforting ‘hello’ when Leo came home from practice. Finn didn’t talk about his book, but Leo didn’t mind. As long as Finn was happy, he could be patient, even if curiosity chewed at him day and night.

When do I get to read it? Leo had finally begged in the heat of June, turning over in bed four nights after his final NHL game. He was restless already and hardly sleeping. He needed something other than endings to occupy his mind.

Finn had smiled at him. The point of his nose pressed to Leo’s. I sent the manuscript out last week. The first copy is yours, Peanut.

Leo had kissed him for that most thoroughly.

“Hello, there.”

Leo smiled into a hidden freckle behind his ear and wrapped his arms around Finn’s chest, giving him a squeeze. “Hey.”

“This for me?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Yeah.” Finn’s head rested back on his shoulder. Leo took the weight happily. “But not really. Ugh, my eyes hurt.”

“Wear your glasses.”

“I wore them yesterday.”

“Didn’t realize they had a recharge time.”

“You know, plastic and glass can be really high-tech these days.”

Leo covered Finn’s eyes with one palm; his lashes fluttered and his chest shook with a laugh. “Glasses,” he insisted, dragging his hand up to Finn’s forehead to tilt his face all the way up and meet his gaze. “Keep this shit up and I’m not putting special sauce on your bagel sandwiches anymore.”

Finn’s soft doe eyes went bright. “What special sauce?”

Leo quirked a brow at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“C’mon, that’s not—”

“Glasses or I eat it and you never, ever get to try it.”

Finn gasped. “You’re starving me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Fucker.”

“You’re just mad yours never turn out as good as mine.”

“Poltergeist.”

“It’s because you don’t heat the pan enough.”

“I do!” Finn protested, sitting up and turning sideways in his chair to face him. “I did everything right when you showed me. It doesn’t taste right.”

Leo shrugged. “You’re cursed. Sucks to suck.”

Finn groaned and thumped his forehead against Leo’s collarbone. The hair at the back of his head was soft when Leo scratched through it; the muscles of Finn’s neck relaxed on a slow exhale.

“Same or new?”

“New,” Finn mumbled.

Leo hummed. For three weeks, he had been waiting for Finn to scatter his attention to the handful of ideas that had been left in the void. He refused to send books to his publisher until he could read them aloud to his captive audience of two without turning five shades of red and blowing a frustrated raspberry at the draft. Many had not yet passed that test. “From your list?”

“Nah.”

He nuzzled his nose into the top of Finn’s head. “ ‘S it about, then?”

“A prince.” Finn raised his head slightly. A kiss found the neckline of Leo’s shirt. “And a knight.” A second alit on his bicep, lingering long enough to feel his lips move. “And the sun.”

“That’s cheating,” Leo whispered through his smile. “You’re not supposed to write about us.”

“The New York Times bestseller list disagrees.” Finn lifted his head. His nose scrunched. Confidence rouged his cheeks, and Leo wasn’t a writer, but he’d pen poetry about that any time. “My self-imposed rules can wait. I have a good feeling about this one.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Finn raised his eyebrows and leaned close like he had a secret. The plate with his cooling sandwich chimed at a tap from his pen. “It’s funny. Something tells me they’re gonna end up together in the end.”

Leo looked at him for a long moment, then darted a kiss to the bridge of Finn's nose. "Are you putting porn in it?"

"Are you going to let me eat my bacon-egg-and-cheese with the special sauce that you made because you love me so much and you think I'm so cute and sexy?"

"Yes."

"Sunshine, I will write all the porn you want."

"Hmm." Leo let his eyes drift to the laptop screen (just a little peek, a tiny one, not even a real spoiler) but Finn's hand lowered it before he could catch more than a glimpse. He made a disgruntled noise and straightened. Foiled again. "Wear your glasses and I'll make you one tomorrow, too."

[goodlucktai]

here for a reason

rottmnt word count: 1k pairing: raph & OC part of the archer au :) read on ao3

x

“Hey, Georgie,” Raph says, “got a second?”

Gio pauses agreeably on his way through the room. He tilts his head, as good as asking the obvious question out loud. 

Smiling, Raph pats the seat next to his. His big brother course-corrects immediately and joins him on the sofa. 

He’s so quiet so much of the time, unlike all the other noisy larger-than-life personalities in their family, but Raph knows he feels twice as much as he lets on. There’s enough light in the room that it brings out a hint of the warm brown hiding in those dark eyes. 

“I wanted to show you the latest dorky scheme Lee and Dee came up with,” Raph says, so casual. He definitely does not have an ulterior motive. 

“I’ll brace myself,” Gio says dryly, as if he’s not charmed by every ridiculous thing the twins do. 

Gio seems fine, but Raph knows he didn’t imagine the flinch he saw earlier in the evening. Following the police scanner on patrol had taken them right to the Foot Clan, up to no good as usual, because some losers just don’t learn. When a well-aimed crossbow bolt missed the tip of his ear by an inch for the grave crime of daring to so much as scowl in Donnie’s direction, the Lieutenant had thrown his arms up like he regretted his whole career and shouted at Gio, “What do you care, anyway? You’re not even one of them!”

Three little brothers gasped in tandem, offended and shocked, but Raphael had only seen the way Gio’s fist clenched white around his bow briefly before it loosened into a normal grip again. 

He’s still getting used to it, Raph thinks. Belonging somewhere. Being one equal part of a silly, perfect whole. 

So Raph tugs on the soft gray string inside him, twisted in snug with orange and purple and blue, and melds with it just enough to send along a memory. 

The memory was one of a very late night Raph had gotten out of bed for water and discovered two turtles in the kitchen making break and bake chocolate chip cookies and cupcakes from a box of funfetti cake mix. Leo was sitting on the counter, swinging his feet and eating a square of raw cookie dough, and Gio was wearing an apron of Mikey’s that said “I Cook As Good As I Look.”

“We couldn’t sleep,” Gio said plainly, his voice rarely wavering from its usual flatness. He would sound calm at the end of the world, Raph sometimes thought. Only to remember an instant later, oh, wait, he did sound calm at the end of the world. 

“‘We’, huh?” Raph said, leaning against the counter next to Leo. “You’re a bad influence, Leon.”

“Nothing and no one can influence Gigi,” Leo replied. “He’s officially de-influenced. Ask him what TikTok is.” 

Well-versed in the art of Leo trying to dodge a conversation, Raph ignored that and said, “If Mikey finds out you were up all night again, it’s gonna be hell on earth for you tomorrow.”

“Can I buy your silence?” Leo offered cheekily. He offered Raph a cookie dough square, smiling as if it wasn’t three o’clock in the morning and there weren’t shadows beneath his eyes. 

Raph took the cookie dough and said “No,” as he ate it, just to hear Leo’s offended squawk. 

Gio sent Leo off to look for more frosting in the pantry, presumably to stop their scuffling from reaching wake-everyone-else-in-the-lair levels. When it was just the two eldest brothers for a moment, Raph said, “You don’t have to do this.” 

He didn’t want Giorgio to think he had to do anything to belong there. He didn’t have to stay up baking treats for no other reason than to make a sleepless night a little more bearable. It was kind of him to do it, but he didn’t have to. Raph just wanted to make sure he knew that. 

Gio took the first two trays of cookies out of the oven, transferring them to a cooling rack the way he’d seen Mikey do a dozen times, and said, “I’m the oldest. It’s my job.”

And it was hard to argue something that had been Raph’s truth for so long. He stayed where he was, absorbing the warmth of the kitchen, reluctant to leave it. 

Leo came back at a run with a tub of cream cheese frosting, hoisting himself back onto the counter and popping the lid off the tub. Raph drew the line at eating frosting straight out of the container and swiped it from him. 

“All of your teeth will rot out of your head, and then what,” Raph said dryly. 

“Donnie will make me robot teeth or something? They’ll probably be Bluetooth enabled so I could play TSwift literally everywhere I go.”

“You already do that.” 

Gio reached over and deposited a warm cookie from the rack into one of Leo’s hands. Confiscated frosting forgotten, Leo broke it into two pieces and popped one half into his mouth, exhaling comically when it was hotter than he expected. 

“You’re gonna spoil him,” Raph said. It was already much too late for that, as Leo had been spoiled in various ways by everyone in their family since the day he was born, but it was worth saying anyway. 

“That’s my job, too,” Gio said, and handed the next cookie to Raph. 

In an instant, Raph felt younger-brother and cared for, indulged the way only little turtles were. It was a silly, small thing—a passing moment on a random Tuesday morning that would be folded into the rest of the week and all but forgotten in time—but Raph would remember this part. Looking at Gio and thinking I love you. I’m glad you’re here. 

Gio goes still as he processes the information. The Hamato ninpo feels brand-new to him at this point, for all that it had been sleeping deep down inside his soul this whole time, and they have to remember that he hasn’t had years to get accustomed to foreign thoughts and emotions crowding into his head at any random minute of the day like the rest of them have had. 

“All good?” Raph says carefully. 

His big brother blinks rapidly, a glassiness in his eyes that might have been a trick of the light but might not have been, and dips his chin in a punchy nod. 

Something about the memory has unmoored him, but Raph can’t think of what. He passed it along slowly, and chose one he thought would be easy to absorb, but maybe they’ll have to go even slower and easier still. 

“I can tell them not to,” Raph starts to say, but Gio shakes his head. 

“It’s fine,” he says. Then, very deliberately, “Thank you.” 

Raph should be the one saying that, he thinks ruefully. He’d said it already, of course—they all had—but there weren’t enough thank yous in the world for this brother who appeared out of thin air specifically to bring Leonardo home from a place it was impossible to come home from. Whose caring didn’t stop or stall outside of life-or-death situations, any sleepless night as significant to him as the actual apocalypse. Who didn’t seem to know what to do with their gratitude when he had it, putting it up on a shelf somewhere to take it down and roll it around in his hands every now and then. 

One day they’d be able to show him. One day it would stick. Until then—

Operation AirDrop is a go, Raph sends in his little brothers’ various directions. He instantly gets three responses, an ecstatic fizzy pop of confetti that is trademark Michelangelo and electric chaotic glee from the twins. Gio’s expression shifts into one of curiosity as he tries to parse through that sudden burst of feedback he must have felt from the periphery. 

Raph smiles and drapes an arm around Gio’s shoulders. In part to hold him down if he tries to flee their little siblings’ enthusiastic arrival, but mostly because he’s got almost two decades of hugs to catch up on and every second counts. 

Sometimes Gio looks sidelong at him, like he’s surprised to find Raph beside him at all. Other times he leans against him, like he’s soaking up the sun after years and years of winter. Today’s a sunny day, it seems, because he presses the side of his face against Raph’s shoulder and that quiet gray string in Raph’s heart thrums with something very hopeful and tentative that he’s afraid to pin down with a name, just in case it startles away. 

[tightjeansjavi]

party trick

A/N: this silly little fic is directly inspired by this hilarious post by @pedge-page 😝 this fic is meant to be silly, a little unrealistic, and fun! If that ain’t your thing, no worries! Just scroll on by, gem. Also, big thanks to @itsokbbygrl for betaing and @morallyinept for encouraging me with my shenanigans! hehe.

~word count: 1.9k~

Summary: your boyfriend Dieter wants to show you his new party trick that he learned from a pornstar named Ezra

Pairing | Dieter Bravo x pornstar!Ezra x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, established relationship, mentions of drugs and eating, dieter and the reader are openly bi, implied open relationship (not described) Ezra is a bi male pornstar (definition of bi panic) (very light dubious consent as reader and dieter smoke before fucking but it is not described) male masturbation, self sucking??, reader is able bodied with no physical descriptions, readers nickname is gumdrop, no age gap, +18, minors dni!

Your first date with the ever-so eccentric, Dieter Bravo, was a success! Sure, he was a bit clumsy, and maybe even a bit of a blubbering idiot, but you had an incredible time. Did you kiss? Well—maybe! There’s a tell-tale sign when he admires the color of your lipstick against the heart shaped patch in his beard.

After that first date, he washes his face, but is careful to not remove the residue of your lipstick. Not even a week goes by and he’s asking you out on a second date.

Two dates turns to ten and somewhere down the line…you’re Dieter Bravo’s girlfriend, and you couldn’t be happier. (And neither could he)

-

Dieters plan for the evening was to throw a party with some of his friends: not necessarily a rager, per se, just an intimate get-together. Pop a few bottles, skinny dip in his inground pool, and dance under the California night sky.

He canceled his plans last minute because the only person he wanted to spend his evening with was you, his gumdrop.

Hiya, gumdrop baby! 💗

Dee! Hey, baby boy 🥰 having fun at your party?

He cheeses a smile down at his phone, dimples on display, fingers typing fast on the tiny screen, little tap tap taps echoing through the cooling evening air.

Good golly, I’m blushing 🤭 actually…I canceled the party! Just wasn’t feeling the vibes for it! Wanna come over?

Yes! I’d love to! I was just about to order some takeout. Want me to pick something up on the way?

Yes! How about veggie grill? I was just about to smoke, want me to wait up for ya? Oh! Also, I got something I wanna show you later 😉

Being in a relationship with Dieter meant that nothing he could possibly say or do surprised you anymore, but his vibrance, care-free, goofy, eccentric attitude, made him even more attractive to you. That and the fact that he was the literal definition of a trash panda. Your trash panda specifically.

Sounds good to me! 💗 did you want your usual or something different? You don’t have to wait for me, Dee! I’ll have some when I come over. Oh? What is it that you want to show me? 👀

Okie doke! Hey, how about you just order the whole menu? My treat! See ya soon, gumdrop xx. And you’ll see! It’s a surprise. Hehe.

God, Bravo. You sure know how to spoil a gal rotten! Looking forward to the surprise!

He hearted your messages before he reached behind his ear and grabbed his perfectly rolled joint and reached for his lighter that was resting on the table next to the poolside chair he was spread out on.

He couldn’t wait to see you and show you his new party trick.

-

Hours earlier in the day, Dieter found himself in his bed, boxers discarded on the floor and his fist languidly wrapped around his half-hard cock.

His freehand was scrolling through Pornhub, trying to find something to get off to. Usually it didn’t take him very long to settle on a video, but today he was finding it to be a bit of an annoying struggle.

He scrolled and scrolled till he stumbled upon something he had never seen before, self sucking?

He spit into his palm, using his saliva as a natural lubricant because he was too lazy to reach across his nightstand to grab his favorite bottle of lotion (ain’t nobody got time for that!).

Holy shit! He’s sucking himself off??

Christ, his cock is taking up the entire screen!

Dieter's private thoughts ran rabid as he watched the pornstar, Ezra, easily bend over and suck the head of his cock (which was massive, by the way) into his mouth.

“Holy fuck! How is that even possible?!” Dieter announced in disbelief.

He paused the video, and went to Ezra’s page and scrolled till he found the contact button and a direct link to Ezra’s instagram. He sent him a message:

Hey! I hope this doesn’t come off as weird or creepy (feel free to ignore) but I watched one of your videos just now…the self sucking one and DUDE, nice cock! How the hell do I do that? 🫣

Ezra responds seconds later after hearting the message,

HOLY SHIT! THEE DIETER BRAVO GOT OFF TO MY COCK? 🥵 (sorry, huge fan!) anyway, gem, I’d be happy to show you the art of self sucking, and then you too can be a pro like me. xx

Dudeee you’re a fan of me?? I’m blushing! 😉 okay, okay, I have to ask…is it all natural?

I am, indeed! You have quite the eccentric presence, gem. Oh, it’s natural alright. The gods have certainly laid their blessing upon my loins x.

Ohhh, I get it! You’re like Shakespeare? 🤣 damn, you sure know how to swing that thing around! Anyway, I will take you up on that offer! Here’s my number:

Lawl. You’re a funny one huh, gem? I suppose I am a bit like Shakespeare both with my verbiage, and my cock. You free right now?

The funniest guy around! Well, Romeo, got my cock out and everything, let’s boogie?

Boogie we shall.

And so that’s how Dieter ended up FaceTiming with Ezra: who coincidentally, also had his cock out.

“Not to be a total massive fucking flirt, but you’re gorgeous, and my girlfriend would probably eat you right up!” Dieter preened, leaning in close so he could get a better look at Ezra’s third limb, er, cock.

“Oh?” Ezra smirks, “would she now? Well, gem, perhaps the three of us should get together sometime?”

“Yes! You can be like the skunk to my raccoon!” Dieter said with a giggle.

“I beg your finest pardon? Your—what?”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry. Probably should have provided some context, huh?” Dieter blushes.

“Naturally, gem. Go on.” Ezra sits back on his elbows, listening,

“So, my girlfriend calls me a trash panda! It’s endearing, really. And well, you got that blonde streak in your hair…so you can be the skunk?”

Ezra chuckles in pure amusement, eyebrows raising, heavy cock bobbing between his thighs.

“A skunk, huh? You’re lucky I think you’re cute, gem.”

Dieter fanned his face like the little slut that he was, and giggling, “You think I’m cute?”

“Cute as a button, gem. Now, let’s see what we’re working with so that you can show your girlfriend what I taught you.”

“Yes sir.”

Ezra is a wonderful teacher and by the end of it, Dieter is almost able to suck the head of his cock into his mouth. There’s a slight strain in his lower back, but fuck it! You only live once.

“Well, gem, I think you just have to remember to relax your muscles. Pretend you’re floating on a babbling brook, or napping on a fluffy cloud, and then you’ll be sucking yourself off in no time. I gotta run, but let me know how it goes!”

“Ahh! Okay, I think I can manage that! Thanks for all the help, Ezra.”

“Anytime, gem. Anytime.”

-

After passing the joint back and forth together, fucking (a few times) and devouring the veggie grill you brought over, Dieter brings you upstairs to his bedroom, nearly stumbling over his two feet because he’s so excited to show you his new party trick!

“Sit that cute ass on the bed, gumdrop.” He’s not being domineering at all, quite the opposite actually.

You’re both naked, naturally because in Dieter’s home, clothes are always optional!

You wrap your arms around him from behind, kissing his jawline, pecking at the heart patch in his beard. “Are you gonna show me the surprise now, Dieter?”

He leans back into your embrace with a pleasant sigh, “Yes, gumdrop. But c’mon, bed. Now.”

You press one last kiss to his face before detaching yourself from around him, walking over to the bed and plopping down with a soft, oof.

He joins you moments later, laying on his elbow facing you while you reach across and card your fingers through the soft curly hairs on his chest.

“So I was watching this porno earlier, right? I did a deep scroll, and stumbled across this video of this dude…with literally the biggest fucking cock that my two eyes have ever seen!” He speaks animatedly, throwing his hands up as he leans in.

“It literally took up the entire fucking screen, gumdrop! Anyway, that wasn’t the craziest part! His cock was so big, and long, that the motherfucker was able to suck himself off! Dude barely even had to bend over, just popped that sucker right in and got to suckin’!”

You twirl a strand of his chest hair between your fingers, giggling as you listen to his dramatic retelling of the massive cock he saw.

“Shit, it really took up the whole screen? That’s insane, Dee!”

“YEAH! Like…the guy was packing a literal BAZOOKA down there!” He chuckles, leaning in so he can nuzzle his face against yours.

“Anyway, I found the guy's instagram and sent him a message because I thought to myself, ‘Damn! Imagine if I could also suck my own cock?’”

“Let me guess, you asked this pornstar fellow how you can suck your own cock like him?”

“Yes! How did you know?” He chuckled and stole a quick kiss, melting against you like the soft man that he was.

“Lucky guess?” You tease, dragging your finger down lower, skating it across one of his nipples. “So, was it a success? Did he teach you how to properly suck your own cock, Dee?”

“Well, I was actually able to barely get the tip in my mouth! Wanna see, gumdrop? S’gonna be my new party trick!”

“Show me, Dee.” You giggle, encouraging him as he quickly sits up, remembering how Ezra told him the way to curve his spine, and relax his muscles so that he can bend over just enough—

Dieter is hunched over, using one hand to hold the base of his cock, and the other is resting against his lower back for support. He’s so fucking close to wrapping his lips around the head of his cock when–pinch!

He yelps in surprise, immediately rolling over and yowling like a cat.

Ow. Ow. Ow! Fuck! Fuck me! Ow!

You're at his side in an instant, comforting him and reaching for your phone to either call 911, or look up an immediate remedy for his pain.

“Fucking pulled a goddamn muscle!” He whimpers, burying his face into your chest.

“Dee, it’s okay! You’re not dying, baby. Okay? Look! Google says that we have to treat the area with ice and then a heating pad!”

“I’M DYING, GUMDROP! I SEE THE LIGHT!” Your boyfriend dramatically groans, “I'M FADING FAST!”

After icing Dieter’s lower back for a good hour or so, you placed a heating pad against the sore spot while spooning him for extra body heat.

He was typing a message to Ezra, a deep frown set between his eyebrows because he really just wanted to know what it was like to suck himself off! (Who wouldn’t)

Hey, Ez. I pulled a fucking muscle in my back!

☹ gf is spooning me with a heating pad now, but I was really hoping that I would be able to suck myself off!

From Ezra: (Shakespeare-BAZOOKA 🍆)

Aw, I’m terribly broken to hear that, gem. Better luck next time, Birdie!

-

The next time Dieter announced to you that he wanted to try and suck his cock again, you came prepared with two yoga mats and a beginner yoga flow video (thrifted, of course).

He gives you a funny look as you set the yoga mats down in the sunroom.

“What?” You laugh, placing your hands on your hips. “It would be a cool party trick, Dee! Just gotta get you a little more flexible and bendy before we try again.”

Ohhh. He grins, dimples peeking out, “Well, let’s yogi, gumdrop.”

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