#granted he's already a bit mad on the whole

[lilacthebooklover]

i'm in the middle of watching the iz halloween special and what the actual heck, membrane??? not believing dib about aliens is one thing, but this??? this world is so messed-up jdhgjkfhk

"so i find you here, son. oh, i suppose it was only a matter of time" way to support your son smh. he's showing more concern for his freakin science tools than his kids

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: johnny x manager!fem!reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. rough sex. hate? sex. quickie. bathroom sex. unprotected sex. breeding kink. praise kink (bro's obsessed/down bad).

| wc: 2.8k

| aurora's note: this is originally written as johnny x manager!oc, so it's mildly plus size coded and includes background about johnny and reader being married and having a kid together already. enjoy <3

Being as busy as you were handling a million other issues backstage, you didn’t realize that Johnny was trying to get your attention for an entire song until a staff member finally interrupted what you were doing to tell you that something was wrong with Johnny. When you stopped to look at the stage, you saw Johnny standing there. During the middle of a song, he was just standing there, staring at you, waiting for your attention so that he could finally point at his mic and mouth frustratedly: “It’s not working!” Immediately, you groaned. How was it that you had a million staff members standing around doing nothing and not a single one of them thought to actually do something to solve the problem? Did you really have to do everything yourself? It seemed that you did indeed have to do it because you were the one who told the techs that something was wrong with his microphone and that it needed to be fixed— All the while, Johnny was still on stage, protesting the whole thing during his parts of the song by refusing to even lip sync or put full effort into the choreography.

By the time the song was over, they had a new battery pack and microphone ready for Johnny to switch out during the ment next up on the cue sheet. So you gestured for Johnny to come over.  When Johnny ran off stage, he immediately tossed his mic to the side angrily and snatched the new one from you without a word. You stared at him as the sound team closed in to check Johnny's in-ears as well to make sure that everything was working fine again. Johnny huffed and brushed them off so that he could check it himself. You sighed and shook your head at him. You understood that he was frustrated, but he was taking it out on the wrong people, and he was putting himself and everyone else in a sour mood unnecessarily. Then just as he was about to run off without a word, you caught his hand and pulled him back a few steps.

“Hey, look at me.”

Johnny reluctantly spun around while rolling his eyes.

“Smile a bit. Have fun. Don’t get upset again.” You kissed him quickly and smacked his ass— Which he usually would have giggled in response to, instead he continued to pout before escaping your hold and running off. “What’s got his panties in a twist?” you muttered to yourself.

Granted, once he was back on stage, Johnny was smiling and being his usual self that he presented in front of fans. Why he had to take his anger out on you was a mystery. You figured that he let it go or at least felt mildly better, however, because he was acting completely normal again and wasn’t continuously glancing off stage again for help which no one but you was eager to supply. Maybe he just needed a breather. The boys seemed to cheer him up, and interacting with the fans seemed to put a bright smile on his face… Surely he wasn’t mad anymore.

When the concert ended, the boys ran off stage to immediately hand over their equipment and get their water bottles which they all chugged for dear life. Except Johnny. Mr. Pouty angrily threw his mic and in-ear into his labeled basket without any care of if it would break; and in the process of throwing his public tantrum, he shocked literally everyone with his out of character behavior, prompting all of backstage to fall eerily silent and still. Johnny ignored them as he stormed off. Of course your first and only reaction was to follow him— Not as his worried wife but as his pissed off manager who was seeking an explanation about how a fucking mic could possibly do all that to him on the first night of their tour when they were supposed to be happy and just roll with any of the issues that would accidentally occur— That always happened during the first shows! Always! Johnny knew better than anyone that the first show was a trial run, so things were bound to go wrong…

Johnny suddenly diverted into a bathroom in the hallway, and before you knew what was going on, your wrists were being held in his tight grip as he pulled you in with him. You stumbled in, giving him time to lock the door.

“What’s your prob—”

The thought of scolding him was washed away within an instant when he cupped his hands over your ass and squeezed roughly so that you were pulled flush against his chest before he pushed both of you to the wall where he immediately began kissing you roughly.

“J—”

“Stop talking.”

Despite being caught completely off guard by Johnny, you did as you were told, instead of talking you used your energy to kiss him back in the hopes that he was just trying to ground himself with something real— with you. But the longer you kissed, the more aggressive Johnny got. You realized quickly that if you continued that it would go further until neither of you could stop, and you just couldn’t do that with everyone walking on eggshells around him and waiting for you to cool him down. If someone noticed you were gone for so long… If someone heard you… You just couldn’t risk it.

“Joh—”

“What did I say, hmmm?” With a rough grasp on your hips, Johnny spun you around and moved you over a few steps so that you were bent over the sink. “Why do you have to be so fucking pretty all the time? It’s a distraction… But you wouldn’t know that with how you get distracted during our performances. Do you realize how long I was trying to get your attention after my mic stopped working?”

“I had other things to do—”

“What part of ‘stop talking’ do you not get?”

You watched Johnny through the mirror as he focused on checking you out from head to toe with his lip bottom trapped between his teeth. He still looked angry. Honestly, you'd never seen him mad on stage, but what was even stranger was how mad he was with you. Johnny was kind and quiet and understanding. He hardly ever raised his voice, and he always stopped himself from going too far when he got upset. Now, though, it was like everything boiled over until he couldn’t control himself anymore, so his only salvation was bending you over the sink and pulling your cargo pants and underwear down in unison. You grabbed the cold counter top to hold yourself steady.

“Someone could catch us,” you warned warily, worried that he would scold you again for talking.

Johnny grabbed your ass to spread you open before groaning at the sight. “I don’t care.”

“But—”

“It’s not a crime to fuck my wife.”

“It’s unprofessional.”

“Tell that to the techs who couldn’t do their jobs earlier.”

“That’s not their fault.”

“Someone has to take the blame,” he told you sincerely, his gaze meeting yours in the mirror, not a hint of humor or kindness in those dark eyes of his. “Who’s it gonna be?”

You stared at him and exhaled. “It’s my fault for not making sure the techs checked the mic after your outfit change.”

Was it actually your fault? No. But if there was anyone you wished Johnny would be so angry with that he couldn’t see straight, you wanted it to be you because you knew that you could handle him. Who knew what he would do if let loose on the poor crew who made one silly mistake that ruined the whole show for Johnny? In his state, Johnny probably would’ve chewed into everyone there, regardless of their job title, so you instead offered yourself up, which seemed to do the trick because Johnny immediately took that answer and ran with it. With your pants barely pushed down around your thighs and no wiggle room between the sink and Johnny's body pressed up behind you, you had no choice but to stand still as Johnny began to undo his pants with one hand while the other remained glued to your hip. Without so much as a courteous warning, Johnny took you by surprise— Literally. One second you were bracing against the sink for what was to come, the next Johnny had his tip kissing your entrance, and then he was in all at once. You barely stood a chance. You tried to stay quiet by biting your lip and inevitably slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, but it was too late. The shock of having Johnny fuck you so brutally and so suddenly was too much for you to handle. Surely if the boys were eavesdropping outside in the hopes of hearing you two argue, they were immediately scarred forever knowing that Johnny was railing their Noona in the bathroom… If crew members were walking by, they were likely running to gossip about the moans echoing from the bathroom… There was nothing you could do about it, not while your brain felt numb to everything but the fact that Johnny was deep inside of you, and he was being relentless.

“So fucking perfect,” he grunted quietly. “Look at you…” He reached around to grab your face and force you to look up into the mirror to watch your disheveled self bouncing into the sink every time Johnny thrusted forward. “What do I do with you? I just can’t help myself, baby, it’s getting dangerous… All I can think about is you— Even when I’m on stage, I think about you, you, you. It’s unprofessional.”

He hit a sensitive spot that made you moan his name.

“And that face… You always look so pretty when you go dumb on my cock.”

Sure, Johnny was the type to talk dirty in bed, but never like that with you. Back when you first started dating, you used to think about all the women he had been with before you and what they had gotten up to, and if Johnny missed any of it. Over the years, though, when Johnny never showed any changes in your sexual life, like wanting to be degrading, you figured that you assumed wrong about him. Yet there he was, bending you over the sink, holding you steady, and telling you dirty things that made you wet and your legs shake.

“I think I have an idea of what to do with you,” he said between deep thrusts. Leaning in close, his breath was hot on your ear as he whispered sensually, “I’m gonna fill you up…” The two of you moaned together at the thought. “You keep talking about wanting a girl who looks like you, right? We can do that. I can do that… Give you the little girl you want so badly… Maybe then you’ll be at home again like you were when you were pregnant with our son, so I won’t have to be distracted by you all the time.”

“Bold of you t— Fuck— B-bold of you to assume… you wouldn’t still… think— Shit— about me when I’m like that…”

Johnny chuckled. “True.” He brushed your hair off your shoulders so that he could have access to your neck where he started leaving visible hickies.

You reached back to slide one of your hands through his long hair before tugging on the strands to urge him to moan again.

“Gonna cum in you, darling,” he muttered desperately.

Those rough thrusts of his didn’t waver, even when you grunted about him going too fast or too hard. The sound of skin slapping together and moans echoing through the bathroom were enough to convince you that there was no way everyone in the building didn’t know about what you were doing in there. For whatever reason, though, you stopped caring. Maybe it was because the thought of you and Johnny having another kid made your brain melt… All of those comments you made about wanting a baby girl were just jokes to poke fun at how your son looked so like Johnny and not you, but to Johnny it wasn’t just a joke, and you should have known better after the fourth time you brought it up and Johnny kept saying, “One day.” You thought he was kidding too! But no, there he was, a man on a mission, driving into you like there was no tomorrow, like you were the last two people left on Earth.

“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck—” Johnny leaned back just enough for him to be able to look down at the obscene image of his cock disappearing into you over and over again as his nails left imprints in the fat on your hips. “So fucking pretty.” He slid his hands down to drag his nails up, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake along your plush thighs. “All mine, too.” He threw his head back and let out a moan as he very suddenly started cumming inside of you, also without any warning, just like everything else that night.

You stood with your weight being held up by his hands and your supportive grip on the sink, but your legs shook too hard to keep entirely still while you felt the warmth of his cum seep into your core. You could’ve sworn you heard him mumble something along the lines of, “Good girl,” but your head was spinning too fast to make sense of it. So just as quickly as Johnny had been in you, he slid out with a lewd sound caused by your wetness and his cum, then he pulled up his pants. With shaky hands, you pulled your pants up too. Neither of you said anything as Johnny pushed his hair back out of his face with a heavy, relieved sigh, like he couldn’t remember why he was mad in the first place now that he had gotten off inside of his wife who was left with a dry mouth and a body that was vibrating uncontrollably. You tried to calm yourself down the only way you knew how: You squatted down and bowed your head so that you could focus on catching your breath. Johnny gasped and reached out to grab you, but you had yourself still supported by holding onto the sink, so he backed off slightly but remained close in case you needed his help.

“I’m sorry, baby— I got ahead of myself, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

Swallowing hard, you croaked, “John…”

“Yeah?” he replied worriedly.

“We’ve been together for nearly five years… You need to fuck me like that more often.”

For a moment, he didn’t do a thing, but then he started laughing loudly while leaning over to brace his hands on his knees. You stayed where you were on the ground. He nodded, still laughing. “Okay, baby, I can do that.” When he got his laugh out of the way, Johnny held his hands out to help you off the ground and up to your feet slowly so that you could carefully regain your bearings. “You okay?”

You nodded.

“Promise?”

“It’s not sexy if you keep asking.”

Johnny chuckled lightly before kissing your forehead. “By the way, I know it wasn’t your fault that my mic got fucked up. Stupid cord came loose, it’s no one’s fault.”

You looked up at him with a smile before kissing him with a peck at first until he used his height to tower over you and kiss you passionately while he inhaled for air and you reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair. When someone knocked on the bathroom door all of a sudden, you both pulled away and took a large step in opposite directions of each other as if you had actually been caught with your pants down.

“Are you two done?” Yuta asked from the other side of the door.

You sighed quietly. Yeah, everyone definitely knew about you two.

“Yeah,” you replied, giving up on the idea of pretending you weren’t in there or that you hadn’t just fucked. “Coming.”

Johnny chortled.

Your attention snapped to your husband, and before you could pull paper towels out of the dispenser and throw them at him, Johnny made a run for it out of the bathroom with his tail tucked between his legs.

taglist: @theycallmesya , @tiredlittlevirgo , @henderysposts , @trash-number-one , @mystverse

@aeriwave , @vrak-co , @chibilino , @luvhaeni , @leekslou

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@cherryynoir ,

[moonagedaydreamsofrhiannon]

IN DEFENSE OF TRAVIS MARTINEZ:

Because I’m sick and tired of seeing travis hate everywhere I go.

“Travis was sexist.”

Did he spout some sexist rhetoric in the beginning of the show? Sure. But it’s important to recognize that: A) he changed, and by season 2 he completely stopped, B) he was a teenage boy in the 1990s, and that kind of rhetoric was normal at the time, C) most of his sexist macho tough guy attitude was a complete act that he likely put on to compensate for his insecurity about his own masculinity, and internalized homophobia. (More on that later.)

(Also let’s be real, Travis is basically one of the girls anyway and I’m tired of pretending he’s not.)

2. “Travis didn’t care about Javi.”

Did we watch the same show??? Granted Travis may have had trouble expressing his feelings (also related to his insecurities about masculinity, likely learned from his father, as well as growing up in a patriarchal and homophobic society), but he cared deeply about Javi. In S1E4, Travis literally DUG UP HIS DAD’S GRAVE, through horror, tears, and vomit, in order to retrieve his ring to give to Javi. When Javi disappeared, Travis kept looking for him every day for months, and never gave up, even when logically it would have seemed impossible for him to still be alive. He comforted and reassured Javi when neither of them drew the card. He cradled Javi’s dead body and ate a bite of his raw heart (which was a metaphor for how much he loved him, and a parallel to Shauna eating Jackie’s raw ear.) Maybe Travis wasn’t always there for Javi in the way he needed, but he absolutely loved him, and it’s important to remember that Travis was also a traumatized, grieving, kid who just lost his dad.

3. “Travis slut-shamed Nat.”

As we are literally shown in the show, Travis was not trying to slut shame her, he asked how many times she had done it because he was embarrassed about the fact that he was a virgin, and worried that she would judge him, or that he wouldn’t measure up because he was more inexperienced than her. When she told him she hooked up with Bobby Farleigh, he did not get mad at her because she slept with another guy (he already knew about that, and was fine with it), he got mad because she hooked up with his bully, and then lied to him about it. I don’t blame Nat for this, she didn’t know about it at the time, and didn’t want him to get mad once she found out, but I also don’t blame Travis for being hurt and embarrassed and upset with her for lying about it.

4. “Travis was just kind of a dick.”

Sure, but so were all of them. He acted like kind of a jerk in the first season. So what? Shauna had an affair with her best friend’s boyfriend, lied to her about it for months, and refused to apologize. Misty tried to drug Coach Ben. Nat faked his brother’s death to him (yeah, she was trying to help him move on, but still not cool). All of them called him “Flex” (y’know, the nickname that was used to bully him for years). None of them are perfect or nice or likable all the time, and that’s ok; that’s the whole point. They’re realistic, complex, flawed, morally gray and sometimes unlikable people. They’ve all done bad things, but nothing Travis did is worse than what anyone else on that show has done. He was a traumatized teen whose dad literally just died. Also, me personally, if everyone around me was constantly calling me the mean nickname that was used to bully me since middle school, I would also probably act like a little bit of a dick.

5. “Travis is a straight man.”

Wrong. (Also not really a valid reason to hate someone… But most importantly, just wrong.)

Travis Martinez is clearly a bisexual.

So many of his issues: the insecurity, the bullying, the macho tough guy act, the whole weird complex about his masculinity, all of it stems (at least partly) from the fact that he’s bisexual and has internalized homophobia. The whole “Flex” thing is just thinly veiled homophobia. The main reason why he got bullied is because Bobby Farleigh spread a rumor about him getting back surgery to better suck his own dick. The unsaid implication there is that he’s a man who sucks dick, which is inherently queer, even if it is his own. If you look even slightly past the most surface level interpretation, it’s pretty obvious that Travis was bullied because of homophobia. His performance of stereotypical toxic masculinity was clearly over compensation for the fact that he doesn’t fit into the box of traditional straight masculinity, and was a reaction to the bullying from his peers, abuse from his dad, and internalized homophobia from growing up in a homophobic and patriarchal society. As the show progresses he starts to unlearn that toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia, and he allows himself to be more vulnerable, emotional, and feminine, and as a result, he becomes stronger, more confident, and more respectful of the people around him.

As for Travis being a man… Is he though???

In season 1, Travis is a man (narratively speaking); there is a clear distinction between Travis/Coach Ben and the girls. However, in season 2, we see a stark shift in how Travis is depicted. The separation between Travis and the girls pretty much ceases to exist. Narratively speaking, there is no distinction made between Travis and the other girls; they are one entity—one hive mind. Instead, the emphasis is now placed on the distinction between Coach Ben and the girls/Travis. When Coach Ben watches the Yellowjackets eat Jackie in horror and disbelief, Travis is right there with them, dressed in ancient greek robes along with the rest of them. In season 2, Coach Ben is the only real Man of the group (Travis has narratively become one of the girls, and Javi is just a boy, not a man) and he is shown staying separate from the rest of the group, and growing more and more uncomfortable with the cultish dynamics, while Travis, on the other hand, becomes more and more integrated with the group, as he falls deeper and deeper into cult beliefs, until he is a full-blown devout Lottie worshipper. Of the three males on the show, he is the only one who actually participates in cannibalism with the other Yellowjackets. Also he lost his virginity to a lesbian.

Whether or not you choose to believe that Travis is transfem (I do) you cannot deny that, at least narratively speaking, Travis is literally just a girl.

6. Travis is a victim.

I don’t know why nobody in this fandom seems to acknowledge this, but Travis is a sexual assault victim and I’m tired of people constantly overlooking and ignoring that fact. In Doomcoming, the girls (excluding Jackie, Nat, Tai, and Van) chased him down, sexually assaulted him, and then tried to kill him. That’s not something that’s up for debate or denial, that is literally canon. Stop pretending it didn’t happen. Stop pretending it wasn’t assault. Stop shaming him and making fun of him for struggling with sex, or not always being able to get it up. That’s a normal trauma response after being assaulted/raped. You guys are literally proving the point. This kind of treatment from society towards masculinity and male victims is just playing into the patriarchy and toxic masculinity, and is exactly what made him act the way he did in season 1 in the first place!

[d34dg1rl5]

Dbd hc drabble

Trickster

• He is so in love - with himself. But also with you. Which is crazy.

• Once you are dating this maniac there is no backing out of it.

• There are times when he sits you down on a log and he starts to sing some of his songs (choreo included). You should feel so honored - he literally is giving you a private concert!

• Trickster hates to be touched. At least at the beginning of your relationship. As time goes on he will let you touch him. At first slight hand holding, then quick hugs, longer hugs and after quite a while he will allow kisses.

• He loves kisses everywhere, but mostly on his chest/abs. He will feel like a king that is being worshipped (he seriously thinks of himself like a king sometimes).

• He loves to kiss you on your temple or the back of your hand - like a prince with his princess.

• During trials he usually spares you. Sometimes not.

Knight

• Tarhos is a special case - if you date him you date the whole crew.

• JK! But if you guys aren't alone you will ALWAYS be accompanied by the knights of the Compagna.

• Tarhos is SO protective of you. If someone steps even a little bit too close his hand is already on the shaft of his sword. You have to reassure him that everything is alright and that no one will hurt you.

• Tarhos will always spare you in trials - he thinks of you like a damsel in distress. He kills the dangerous people around you and you will be granted the hatch.

Frank (Legion)

• Frank is just an edgy, angsty teenager, he doesn't know any better. He will be so madly in love with you once you're together with him.

• He just wants to cuddle and be with you. He needs your warmth and loves when you are the big spoon. He barely got any love throughout his life.

• If someone hurt you Frank is going absolutely feral. Who did it? Where are they? He will fucking gut them like a fish!!

• Don't be mad with him, he is trying his best for you. :(

• This boy will always give you the hatch - if he hurts you it's by accident!

Danny Johnson (Ghostface)

• This mf.

• He is in love with you. Unhealthy.

• He makes pictures of you whenever he can, you won't even notice him! He keeps his favorites in his pocket, he has to keep you close to him for good luck!

• During the trial he loves to stalk you and then tackle you in a hug. He only will let you go if you give him a kiss.

• Remove his mask? Negativ. (If you got this reference i love you). He will remove it eventually. But for that you have to earn his deepest trust and show him that it's okay.

• He is so pretty. I picture him having brown curly hair, brown eyes, a slight stubble on his chin and a scar on his lip which he got from a fight with a victim (He is proud of that scar, he loves victims who fight back).

• He just loves to quickly move his mask over his mouth and then kiss you on your face.

[adacatlovelace]

Okay I think I finally understand Emesis Blue. Major Spoilers below.

So the first thing you have to understand about Emesis Blue is that, while it seems to change a lot of TF2's lore at first, it simply grounds it in reality to examine how such an wacky insane world could be possible and the ramifications of many things we simply take for granted.

It begins with the CEO of Helix Industries funding a respawn machine to give Redmond and Blutarch bodies for their outrageously long gravel war. It works through the use of time manipulation, bring a person back from death by rewinding their timeline back to when they were alive. This can also be done multiple times to create copies of people. However, their consciousness still dies, leaving them to experience an eternity, driving them insane. This is the "Respawn Gap" the time between death and respawn. This is treated with Diazapam disguised as Valium to make them forget the respawn gap

10 people are found to be respawn compatible, but the nameless DOD solider/10th class was subjected to the respawn gap so much that they'd immediately kill themselves upon respawn. However, soldier became the perfect candidate for all the tests done. He didn't need to take the diazapam because his mind was already broken. (As an aside, I dont think the soldier in Emasis Blue actually served in the military. Hell, soldiers whole thing is thinking that he did because he's an absolute lunatic)

At some point, Archibald stepped down from Helix, leaving the faceless man in black in charge while Archibald took over running Builders League for Blutarch Mann. Still needing someone to do his dirty work, he hires Spy as his right hand man, tasking him with first executing Heavy, Sniper and Scout for "Treason" (Not clear what actually caused it, but those three are important)

Meanwhile, the Conagher Slaughterhouse is converted from a testing site for the respawn machine to a disposal site for the many corpses from both testing and the gravel wars, run the Conagher "brothers" two flawed respawn clones of the engineer.

On top of this, the Man in Black utilized it to continue research the means of true immortality, without the flaws of the respawn machine. To accomplish this, he brings in a Red Medic as well as Sniper and Heavy, previously killed by BLU and now working with the man in Black. Alongside them, he also brings in a respawn clone of Ludwig, the Plague Doctor or M, as well as Pyro, who likely took the job out of their own sadistic nature.

It blurs the line between Ludwig and M becuase the fact of the matter is that they are the same person, M simply being a version of Ludwig that didn't have the madness brought on by the Respawn Gap. Unfortunately for Scout, the respawn machine malfunctions and he's officially fired from BLU. Not wanting to take the hit lying down, he plans on taking legal action against BLU, either risking drawing attention to Helix or simply causing trouble for BLU. As a result, M and Pyro are sent to make him disappear.

However, like the darkness that Ludwig is constantly fighting, theres still a trace of good in M. Like M from the movie, he wanted the death to end so he works to bring Ludwig to Conagher Slaughterhouse, knowing Spy and Soldier to follow them and for them to learn the truth.

At the same time, information about the respawn testing is begins to surface and Archibald needs to disappear for a bit, planning on using the respawn machine at the slaughterhouse to come back when things either clear up or he can make an escape. However, the respawn machine in the slaughterhouse had whatever device was responsible for the time manipulation previously moved somewhere else that needed it and needed to be transported back by Heavy.

So the events of Emesis BLU happen, M locking Archibald in the dungeon to trap him so that he could be found and likely killed by Spy. Various time anomalies happen due to the presence of the briefcase. Everything comes crashing down and Ludwig shoots himself knowing that M is still out there, waiting to enact the final part of his plan. M kills Spy, Soldier kills Blutarch (and inadvertently Redmond) M crashes his ambulance, and Medics fractured soul finally finds peace in the afterlife.

However, like demo says "Our true enemy has yet to reveal himself" referring to the man in black.

[polo-drone-070]

Buzz is Born: Maximus Tries Something New

A mascot meeting

Oi, so we were at the mascot meetin’, right? All of us—me, Grayden (@polo-drone-084), Bucky (@buckygold), and the pups—workin’ out how to get the crowd hyped for the match against Vanguard. Grayden was goin’ over plans, his usual smirky, boss-man self, lookin’ sharp as ever. Bucky’s throwin’ out ideas, proper focused, all knightly n’ shit. Me? I’m buzzin’ just thinkin’ about suiting up as the Golden Knight again. Ain’t nothin’ like flexin’ in that gear, hearin’ the crowd go mental, yeah?

But then, Chevy (@chevy-gold) n’ Grant (@grant-gold43) start givin’ me this look, their tails waggin’ like mad. Them two already propa settled in their roles as Golden Pups—cheeky, rowdy, proper full of energy, init. They always make it look like a right laugh, even if they’re a bit daft with it. Milo—PDU-151— (@polo-drone-151) was sittin’ calm as ever in his black rubber polo, tail flickin’ lazily. Always quiet, always focused, but you can feel he’s takin’ everything in.

Chevy leans over to me, his ears floppin’ as he grins. “Oi, Maximus, you ever think about tryin’ somethin’ new, bruv?”

I squint at him. “What d’ya mean, bruv? I’m already the Golden Knight, init? Ain’t much better than that.”

Grant smirks, nudgin’ me. “Yeah, but think about it, mate. When Grayden or Bucky are suitin’ up as the knight, yeah? Wouldn’t it be proper sick to have more pups runnin’ with ’em? You know, a whole pack hypin’ up the crowd, bouncin’ about, goin’ mental?”

“Pack, yeah?” I say, blinkin’. “You think I’m cut out for all that woof-woof shit? You takin’ the piss, bruv?”

Chevy’s tail wags even faster. “Nah, mate, serious talk. You’ve got the energy for it! Enthusiastic, rowdy, proper dumb—but in the best way! You’d be perfect as a golden pup. And we got the perfect name for ya: Buzz. You’d be Buzzin’ all over the place.”

“Buzz?” I ask, scratchin’ me bald head.

Milo finally speaks up, his tone calm but firm. “Buzz suits you, Maximus. It aligns with your energy and enthusiasm. You’d complement the pack well.”

I stare at the three of ’em. They’re propa serious, like they actually think I could pull this off. Me? A pup? Proper mental idea... but also kinda excitin’. The Gold Army’s been pushin’ everyone to try new things this week, and I ain’t about to back down from a challenge.

“All right, bruvs,” I say, grinnin’. “Let’s do it. Make me Buzz.”

Collared and Ready : Golden pup energy

Chevy and Grant get to work right away. They slap a gold collar round me neck, the tag jinglin’ as they clip it on. “Buzz,” it says, all shiny n’ official-like.

“Buzz,” I say, rollin’ the name round me mouth. “Oi, yeah, sounds propa zippy. I like it.”

Grant grins, handin’ me a golden pup hood with floppy ears. “Stick this on, bruv. You’re about to become one of us.”

I pull the hood over me head, snug n’ tight, and they clip a waggin’ tail to me shorts. I can’t help but laugh as it bounces with every move I make. “Oi, bruvs, look at me!” I bark, strikin’ a dumb pose. “Propa pup material, yeah?”

“Atta boy, Buzz!” Chevy cheers, waggin’ his own tail. “Now, let’s get ya hypin’ the crowd like a proper golden pup. Rowdy, dumb, full of energy—just go wild!”

I throw meself into it, barkin’ n’ bouncin’ round like I’ve been a pup me whole life. Chevy tosses a foam ball across the practice field, n’ I take off after it like a rocket, grabbin’ it with a massive grin on me face.

“Got it, bruvs!” I bark, waggin’ me tail as I bring it back.

“Good boy!” Grant laughs, rubbin’ me head. The praise makes me all warm inside, like I’m doin’ somethin’ proper good.

We spend ages just messin’ about, chasin’ balls, jumpin’ n’ rollin’, hypin’ each other up. I’ve never felt so... free.

Milo’s Turn : Drone pup programming

Then Milo steps in, his black rubber polo gleamin’ under the lights. His tail twitches as he approaches, calm n’ composed. “All right, Buzz. Time to see how you perform as a drone pup.”

My tail slows as I stare at the gear he’s holdin’—a black rubber polo n’ matching shorts, shiny and snug, just like his. The vibe shifts immediately. There’s no more rowdy energy from Chevy n’ Grant; it’s all focus now, serious-like.

I nod slowly, lettin’ Milo guide me as he slips the polo over me head. The rubber clings tight, snug n’ firm, and as it settles into place, somethin’ in me shifts. The rowdy, bouncin’ energy starts to fade, replaced by a deep calm. The black shorts follow, and with each piece of gear, I feel my head quietin’ further.

Milo clips a black tag onto me collar, and that’s when it happens. The programming stirs. The sharpness of the rubber’s embrace pulls me under. 070 rises, not all the way, but just enough to bring its order n’ discipline to the surface.

“Good, Buzz,” Milo says, his voice steady n’ firm. “Now, follow my commands. Let the programming guide you.”

Buzz is still here, yeah, but it’s 070 now, too. A mix of the pup’s playful energy n’ the drone’s perfect focus. The commands come, and there’s no hesitation, no thinkin’, just action.

“Jump.”

070 obeys, the body springin’ into a perfect leap, paws landin’ with precision.

“Spin.”

A flawless turn, controlled n’ sharp.

“Roll.”

The movement is seamless, efficient, yet still carries that pup-like enthusiasm, tail waggin’ at the end.

“Bark.”

“Woof!” The sound bursts out, loud n’ clear, but with a sense of controlled power.

Each command feels natural, like it’s what this body was built to do. The mix of playful pup energy n’ drone obedience blends into somethin’... perfect. 070 recognizes this state as optimal.

“Cheer,” Milo commands.

“GO GOLD!” I bark, leapin’ high into the air, my voice filled with unwavering energy n’ loyalty. The jump is precise, the landing flawless, but the cheer is still hyped n’ joyful, reflectin’ Buzz’s personality wrapped in 070’s discipline.

Milo nods, his tail waggin’ faintly as he observes. “Good drone pup. You’re performing as expected. Let’s take it further.”

Milo steps closer, his tone calm but more intense. “You are PDU-070, a drone pup. Your purpose is to serve, inspire, and obey. Playfulness enhances morale. Precision ensures perfection. Let the programming guide you completely.”

The words sink deep. The pup hood n’ rubber polo amplify the programming already embedded in me. It’s no longer just Buzz or just 070—it’s both, workin’ together perfectly.

“Yesss,” I say, my voice soft n’ slurred, the words comin’ out automatically. “PDU-070... serves... obeys... inspires...”

Milo watches, his expression calm n’ satisfied. “Good drone pup. Now, perform.”

I run through more stunts, each one flawless but still filled with playful energy. I roll, fetch, leap, and spin on command, barkin’ when prompted. It’s pure bliss—no overthinkin’, no distractions, just obeyin’ n’ servin’ like I was built for it.

Buzz Reflections

When the session ends, I flop onto the turf, pantin’ n’ grinnin’ under the hood. The mix of Buzz n’ 070 fades slightly, leavin’ me feelin’ proper accomplished. “Oi, bruvs, that was propa mental!” I bark, tail waggin’. “Never thought I’d be a pup, but fuck me, that was amazin’. Buzz n’ 070 workin’ together—lit as fuck, yeah?”

Chevy laughs, rufflin’ me hood. “Told ya, Buzz. You’re a natural. The pack’s better with ya in it.”

Milo clips off the black tag, his calm demeanor never shiftin’. “You performed well, PDU-070. Your obedience and precision enhance the pack. You will continue to train and grow.”

I nod, proper eager. “Yeah, bruvs. Can’t wait to train more. Maybe 049 (@polo-drone-049) will take us out for a pack walk. Heard he’s got loads of drone pups, like Chevy n’ 098. Bet they’d be a laugh to run with.”

As I sit there, waggin’ me tail, I think back to a month ago, when Spencer—PDU-098— (@polo-drone-098) had me in a similar state. He’d put me back in drone mode when I was slippin’, added a hood to the mix, and brought me back to full focus. It was... intense, yeah, but now I get it. The hood, the rubber—it’s not just gear. It’s part of what makes me better.

The trainin’ wraps up, and I strip back into me gold kit, but the memory of the rubber polo stays with me. Being Buzz ain’t just about havin’ fun or playin’ a role. It’s about servin’ the Gold, whether as a rowdy pup or a precise drone pup.

“Oi, bruvs,” I say, grinnin’ at Chevy n’ Grant. “Propa glad I tried somethin’ new. Buzz is here to stay, yeah?”

They cheer, waggin’ their tails as we head out. Milo follows, calm as ever, already plannin’ the next session. Me? I can’t wait to get back to trainin’ n’ hypin’ the crowd, whether as Buzz, 070, or somethin’ in between.

Woof-woof, bruvs. Let’s go.

[talaok]

At the Met | pt. 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: This is part two of "At the Met", where after the fight, you go back to your hotel room and find Pedro anxiously waiting for you.

warnings: angst, jealousy (dw there's a happy ending)

The sky had darkened, gloomy clouds filled the canvas as quick drops of rain began hitting the pavement.

Your ride was waiting for you in the black SUV, but you stopped a moment to inhale the crispness of the air, your body relishing the feeling of the first real breath you'd taken in hours.

It was late, and as people were getting ready for the afterparties, you just wanted to go home, well not home per se, just anywhere with a bed and a shower, ergo, your hotel room.

You walked to the car and got in, but as the driver didn't drive off, you felt a pit in your stomach.

"He's gone already, we can go," you said, and with a nod, he did as told.

The muffled stains of the streetlight shined through the raindrops on the glass as the streets all merged into one.

You relieved the whole night in your head, wondering how it could all have gone so wrong.

This was supposed to be a great day, you should have laughed and joked and had a great time, but here you were instead, alone in the dim backseat, feeling like you were about to cry.

Pedro should have been here with you, making you smile like only he could, he should have been here to talk about the evening and all the craziness you'd just endured, but he wasn't.

In fact, you didn't know exactly where he was. After the fight he granted your wish, leaving you alone, and when you'd returned to the table, he wasn't there, or anywhere else.

You had never fought like that, every disagreement you had ever had always ended with you in his arms and all worries out the window, but for some reason today had been diffrent.

Seeing him like that pained you, you could still see the hurt in his eyes, the way he had looked at you once you shrugged him off... it was all still there, but you were mad, and most importantly, right.

That wasn't the first time he showed his jealous side, it had arisen before, like when that guy at the bar was getting a bit too friendly or when one of your co-stars had looked at you for a bit too long and according to him "like he was undressing you with his eyes", but this time it ticked something. You were with him because you wanted to, he was supposed to trust you, not treat you like a dog ready to turn their back on their owners for anyone with a treat.

He was supposed to trust you like you trusted him. Yes of course you too got jealous at all the women and men throwing themselves at him, but you didn't react like him, you would talk and remind him in a few ways he very much loved that he was yours, and you were his.

So tonight you'd had it, you were supposed to have fun, not be questioned by your own boyfriend about what some guy had told you.

You let out a frustrated sigh, and as you opened your eyes back up again, the car stopped. The hotel's lights shined bright, much too bright for how you were feeling.

You looked at the driver, half considering asking him to drive you somewhere else, anywhere else, but as he locked eyes with you in the rearview mirror you changed your mind.

"Everything ok Miss?"

you forced a smile

"No Stephan, not really"

"anything I can do to help?"

Your smile got more genuine " I don't think so, but thank you" you said, as you got off the car 

"goodnight Miss," he said, lowering his window

"goodnight Stephan and I've told you, you can call me y/n"

He didn't respond if not with a slight nod you knew meant he was never gonna listen to you, before driving away.

The lobby was cold, the ac clearly blaring even though it was only May, and you hugged your jacket closer to your body as the receptionist greeted you, while making your way to the elevator.

Your heels sounded on the tilted floor as you walked down the corridor.

An overwhelming feeling of dread took over your body once you stopped in front of your room.

You just wanted everything like it was just a few hours before, you wanted to open the door and fall into his arms, but you needed to talk, seriously talk once and for all.

Your legs felt wobbly as you opened the door, and it all became much worse once you took in the man in front of you.

Pedro was sitting on one of the stools of the kitchen counter, his body turned towards the door, hence, now you.

You were both silent as you closed the door behind you, and you noticed how he hadn't changed, you had no idea how long he'd been here, but he surely had time to do it.

"Pedro-"

"I'm sorry" he spoke, interrupting whatever you wanted to say "Y/n I'm sorry," he said, standing up to walk closer to you until he was right in front of you "I'm really fucking sorry" The pain in his eyes was still there "this wasn't how this night was supposed to go, I wanted you to have fun and meet people and feel great but I ruined all of it... I was an asshole, I was- unforgivable- I should have never talked to you like that or said any of the things I said, I didn't mean any of it, sweetheart, I just- saw that guy and my vision went red and I'm sorry, I don't know how to explain how incredibly fucking sorry I am"

You had to take a breath, you had just gotten in after all.

 "I know you are" you conceded, because it was true, you could see it clear as day, but that still didn't solve the fact he hadn't said what you wanted him to say "But you always are"

"Bab-"

"no, let me finish" You stopped him, and he immediately complied

"That's not the problem Pedro, the problem is that you don't trust me, the problem is that you think that any guy can steal me from you, and that's incredibly frustrating and infuriating because I've told you thousands of times that I love you, not Nathan not Joe but you, only you" you explained as calmly as you could as your nerves felt about to explode "And if that isn't enough, if you still don't trust me then I can't do it, because it's awful Pedro, it's awful having to be interrogated by you any time a guy comes a tiny bit close to me, that's not how relationships work, we're supposed to trust one another and if we see something we don't like we talk, like adults."

He blinked, as he processed all you had said, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

"you're right" he agreed "You're right sweetheart and I'm sorry I made you feel that way, that's awful, but I promise, and I mean it, I swear on whatever you want that I will work on that, I'll try as hard as I can to not let this happen again, because I trust you, I'd trust you with my life for god's sake, and I love you, more than I could ever explain" he sighed "just please y/n, I'm begging you give me a chance, and I promise I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you"

You finally felt like you could breathe again.

"you'll try?"

"I will sweetheart I swear, starting from now I will never treat you or question you like that ever again"

You stared back into his big brown eyes.

"promise?"

"Promise," he swore without missing a beat, and that's all you needed to hear before you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling in his warm chest.

He hugged you back tightly, his chin on the top of your head "I'm really sorry sweetheart" he murmured, "I ruined everything"

You looked up at him "Give me a kiss" you told him, and how could he say no when that was all he had wanted to do for the past three and a half hours? 

His lips were on yours in an instant, gentle and slow, begging for forgiveness, and you melted right into him, in his scent and touch, feeling light as a feather.

You sighed happily, leaning away.

"I love you y/n" he promised "I love you more than life, more than anything in this entire universe, I-I love you"

You smiled, his words warming your heart "I love you too, baby" you vowed "Now come here again, I missed you"

And just like that, he did. 

--- --- The day after --- ---

["Y/n Y/l/n and Pedro Pascal were photographed leaving their hotel room looking as in love as one can be! Seems like whatever happened at the Met is long forgotten"

"I bet people are mad they made us believe we could have a chance with them again"

"I bet they are, but fans have never been more relieved"]

taglist: @spacelatinos4life @sloanexx

[lale-txt]

❈ 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐰/ 𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫 & 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

where Smoker and you get hit by a truth serum and things get a little heated. in the best way possible.

a/n: a little something for @opopnomi who is a gem and deserves the best ♡ i had the best intentions to write something fluff with Smoker but somehow i got possessed and when i came back to my senses it was this absolute filth, oopsie.

contains: ns.fw under the cut (MDNI), afab!reader (no pronouns, “cunt” and “pussy” used to describe genitalia), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise kink, penetrative sex, breeding kink (NO mention of pregnancy or babies), slight overstimulation, mention of exhibitionism, mention of brat taming, slightly possessive Smoker if you squint

word count: 2.2k

“May I come in?”

You knock and push the heavy door to Smoker’s captain quarters open slightly to peek inside, seeing him hunched over some scattered files on his desk. He doesn’t even bother to look up, only motions you with one gloved hand to enter. Your captain seems to be even more troubled than usual. A cold and gloomy atmosphere radiated from him, which was somehow more intimidating than his usual stoic self who would bark out orders at his subordinates. 

Was it your fault? Well… maybe you should have used seastone handcuffs instead of regular handcuffs on the captivated devil fruit user. But you hadn’t them at hand because someone insisted it would be fun to try them out in a way they definitely weren’t meant to be used. And maybe they were still dangling from the headboard of his bed because granted, you were up for a round two. That was before the devil fruit powers hit the whole crew, putting everyone under the effects of what basically was a truth serum. 

To say that it caused a little chaos was an understatement. You feel a twinge of guilt in your chest and tiptoe towards your captain and lover.

“Prepared the report like you asked me to,” you mumble and put the files on his desk. You could already hear Garp’s booming laughter when he’d read over it and it definitely will be a topic at the annual Navy’s New Year party. 

Smoker still doesn’t look up nor speak to you. “Cat got your tongue?”, you ask and sit down opposite of him, leaning on the wood. Only the sound of his pen scratching over the paper was audible. You sigh. “Are you not talking to me because you’re mad or because there are certain things you absolutely don’t want to say out loud?” 

That certainly got under his skin–you could tell from the way that one vein on his forehead twitched slightly before he finally dared to meet your gaze, two cigars dangling from his lips.

“I’m not mad,” Smoker huffs and leans back in his chair, massaging the bridge of his nose. He lets out a quiet groan before sitting up straight again, legs spread apart like he always does. Your eyes flicker to the spot you were grinding on last night and you bite your bottom lip slightly. Obviously the truth serum also caused you to be honest in your gestures and facial expressions, which is probably why Smoker immediately shut himself in shortly after the incident, looking as troubled as he does now. He notices your stare and shifts slightly, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“But,” he continues, his voice a bit more low now, “it would have been troublesome if I told you in front of the whole crew how badly I want to sink my cock into you until you’re creaming around me. How I want you to whine out my name while you’re on top of me, begging me to fill you up. How blissfully fucked out you look last night when you gagged around me, drool and my cum dripping down chin.”

Smoker taps the pen he was holding on the wooden desk, now glaring at you. Almost as if he dared you to make a move. He could see how you rubbed your thighs together, desperate for some friction. If he was to bend you over the desk right now, he’d probably find your panties soaked. He still had some self-control, though. It was just a truth serum effect, not an aphrodisiac. Not that he needed one with you; he was absolutely infatuated with you anyway.

“Captain…”, you coo and smile, knowing after all this time it still made his cock twitch in his pants when you called him that, despite being lovers for a long time now. “It’s not like you to talk like that. I like it, though.”

You strut around the desk until you reach him, expectantly sitting in his chair, his prominent bulge on full display. He is massaging it lazily with one hand over the fabric while his eyes follow your movements. When he pats his leg with his other hand, you know what to do. 

“You know, sometimes I want them to know. Want them to watch when you bully my cunt with your aching cock, splitting me open. Want everyone to see that I’m yours,” you whisper and straddle his thick thigh, grinding against it slowly for some relief. “Yours to use. Yours to fill.”

Smoker growls, a deep rumbling sound in his chest, and his big hands find your hips, pulling you closer to him. His grip is firm and he hasn’t taken his gloves off. He leans in close until his lips are merely an inch from yours.

“Say that again,” he whispers, not kissing you yet. His warm brown eyes take you in as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. One hand of his comes to your face, cupping your chin gently. His thumb brushing over your lips, a low groan from his throat when you part them for him so willingly. “Say you’re mine.”

“Only yours,” you murmur and moan quietly when Smoker’s lips meet yours after what felt like an eternity. His cigars rest forgotten in the ashtray, he’s too busy devouring you. You can feel the heat pooling between your thighs, aching to be touched, worshiped even. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, and you don’t need any truth serum to feel how deeply he desired you. 

A guttural moan from him makes you roll your hips, your core hot and dripping wet by now–you’re pretty sure there’s already a damp spot on his pants where you’re grinding on. With your hands resting on his broad shoulders you keep up your ministrations, feeling how you get lightheaded from the throbbing sensation. It isn’t enough but you can’t stop either, not now when you feel how hard he is by now. 

Smoker is a very patient man. He likes it when you beg for him; he can’t get enough of your needy mewls when your poor cunt clenches around nothing, so desperate to be filled. Desperate for him. 

“And you’re gonna be good for me?”, he asks in a low voice, his big hand trailing up your thigh, squeezing it. You nod eagerly, not beating around the bush. You could be such a brat sometimes, but under the spell of the devil fruit powers your body and its reactions were being so honest. 

With his free hand Smoker unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, too slow for you as you let him know with an impatient whine. He enjoys having your eyes glued to him, wandering from his torso to his happy trail and fluttering wide open when his thick cock finally springs free, resting heavy on his stomach. Precum is already dripping from the tip, making you lick your lips in anticipation. 

“Need you to fuck me,” you mewl and now you’re shifting in your spot, climbing from his thigh into his lap, grinding your clothed cunt against his length. Smoker is still not touching you properly and you’re already such a mess. “Please, please…” 

Smoker brings one hand to his lips, biting the tip of his glove to take it off, while his other hand firmly holds you in place. He knows you like the gloves, but right now he wants to really feel you, not a single layer between you. His hand then sneaks between your thighs, cupping your aching pussy with his massive hand. You were absolutely drenched, your whole body trembling when he rubs slow circles against your core. 

“Hurry.” Your voice sounded desperate now, with your head resting against his shoulder, your breath hot against his bare skin. “Hurry or I’ll die. Please. Need your fat cock inside me. Need your cum.” 

Smoker lets out a hoarse laugh when he lifts you up with ease and drops you gently on the desk. “You’re not gonna die, darling,” he mumbles and kisses from your jaw to your neck, his scruff scratching over your skin. “But I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll see stars and heaven. Gonna fuck you till you feel my cum is oozing out of your pretty little cunt for days.”

His words have you whining and whimpering underneath him, and you raise your hips slightly so he can help you kick your pants off. Your soaked panties cling to your folds and you jump when Smoker rubs his tip between them, a deep groan rumbling in his chest. Your pleading eyes are enough to convince him not to tease you any further though–still, your panties wander in the pocket of his jacket… for later. 

The air is knocked out of your lungs when Smoker plunges into you. He hasn’t even stretched you wide open with his fingers yet like he usually does, but he knew you’d be able to take him. You always do. And with how wet you are for him you take his cock with ease, your walls fluttering around him when he bottoms out fully. His thumb comes to your clit, drawing slow circles around it. He can never get enough how you twitch around his cock, milking him. 

Your eyes roll in the back of your head when Smoker starts pounding into you, keeping up a merciless pace. He’s so deep, hitting all of your sensitive spots with each thrust. Your arms wrap around his neck as he hovers over you, trapping you between the desk and his huge frame. It’s like you’re getting crushed in the best way possible. Neither of you is gonna last long this round, you just wanna fuck to get it out of your system; your bodies being as honest with each other like never before.

“Gonna cum,” you whine. “So close… gonna… Captain, ‘m gonna… fuck, fuck…”

Smokers lips are everywhere, crashing against yours, then on your neck, licking, biting, sucking. You’re his. Your scent and your sweet sounds are making him dizzy and he can hardly hold himself back any longer either. His hips start to stutter, fucking into you in a broken rhythm as he gets closer to his high, too. 

“Mmm… gonna fill you up so good, darling.” His voice has a dark edge to it, deep and almost feral. One hand of his comes to your chin, lifting it up so you meet his gaze. His thumb brushes over your lips again and this time you don’t hesitate to suck on it, making him moan. “You’re gonna take it all, yeah? Gonna let me stuff you with my cum? You want that?” 

You nod so eagerly, eyes glassy from how close you are, from the way he throbs inside of you. If he could, Smoker would have you in this position for hours; your legs wrapped around his hips to stop him from pulling out, your nails scratching over his bare skin when he fucks you deeply, his name falling from your parted lips until he stuffs them with his fingers, your tongue flickering around them so greedily. 

“Wanna see you cum for me, baby,” he mutters, his thumb finding your clit again while he keeps thrusting inside of you. He is as close as you are. “Want you to cream around my cock, yeah? Can you do that for me?” 

You let out a broken sob when the world comes crashing down on you, your walls twitching around his cock while waves of pleasure wash over you; poor, overstimulated thing. Smoker can’t hold back any longer either, rutting in a merciless pace until a few heartbeats later he spills his load inside of you, heat flooding your insides. He kisses your greedily, mumbling incoherent praise against your lips–it doesn’t matter what, because you’re too out of it anyway, but you’re laughing softly, kissing him back. Your whole body tingles as you ride out your high. 

“Fuck, darling” Smoker laughs hoarsely, too. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your lips. “I love you so much.”

You touch his face, fingers brushing over his scruffy cheeks as you pull him to your lips again. Warm. He always made you feel so, so warm. You still throb around him, not willing to let him pull out yet. He likes you best when you’re stuffed and blissfully satisfied anyway. His hand comes to your stomach, pressing down where he’s nestled inside of you. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, propping yourself up on your elbows for a better view where the two of you are connected. Your mixed fluids are dripping down between your thighs every time he pulls out slightly, only to push himself back inside again, as if he could never go without the warmth of your cunt.

You rarely say those big words out loud. Smoker and you usually get along with a few sentences and the smallest gestures, but right now it’s bubbling in your chest; all the love you hold for each other. 

As if it’s on the tip of your tongues, waiting to be devoured.

[daddypriceugh]

Useless pt. 2

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

Here is part 2 I hope you like it :)

@Msdevil333 inspired me

Tw: none

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

It's been two weeks since you and Simon had your fight. Two weeks since you had last seen him.

Don't get me wrong he did try to talk to you. Quite often. But you never had the heart to answer the calls. The words he said are still ringing in your ears, causing your heart to break even more.

You tried to forget the whole thing by thinking that he was only stressed out from work and didn't mean it. Hell even your best friend said that he didn't.

But that lingering feeling of uncertainty is still there. What if he did mean it? Were you really useless?

You shake your head at those questions, bringing yourself back into reality. You are standing in front of the flat door. Simon's and yours flat.

The key is being crushed by your hand while you're debating on going inside or not.

You let out a sigh, deciding that you should get it over already.

"C'mon it's easy. You go in, get the presents and leave." You tell yourself.

"So easy..."

You unlock the door and step inside. To your suprise there's a delicious smell in the air. Someone is cooking.

You take slow, quiet steps into the bedroom, trying not to get caught. Just as you are halfway to your destination, Simon calls you.

You stop desd in tracks and hear him half running into your direction.

"You're back"

You spin around to meet his smiling figure. He looks good, very good. Damn.

"Yeah...just wanted to grab the rest of the presents"

His smile falters.

"Oh..."

A uncomfortable silence grows betwenn you. None knowing what to say. But then Simon breaks the silence.

"Listen, I want to apologise for what I said. I don't even know why I thought that way. You're not useless at all..."

Your mouth is dry as you listen to him. Your brain is trying to form a sentence but nothing is coming out.

"I understand that you're still mad at me. Hell I would too, but could you please give me a second chance? Please I love you."

Your eyes start to water a bit.

"Simon you really hurt me. I don't know if I can forget about it"

His eyes widen at the sight of tears forming and he steps forward trying to initiate a hug.

"I don't want you to forget it, I just need you to forgive me. I can't live on knowing that I hurt the person which is the most important to me"

Not wanting to feel the upcoming pain, you hug him roughly, clinging to his sweater.

He is taken aback by it for a second but recovers quickly and wraps his arms around you. One is holding your waist and the other combing through your hair.

He gives you a light kiss on your head, breathing in your scent.

"I love you so fucking much darling, so much that it hurts. I- i don't know what was going on with me on that day but seeing you walk out on me brought me back to reality. I knew I couldn't loose you. I'd rather die."

At that statement you look up at him, seeing tears falling down his cheeks. You gently wipe them away and give him a small smile.

"I love you too Simon. I don't think that everything will go back to normal, but I'm willing to give you a second chance. Just don't take it for granted"

You jokingly hit his biceps at the last part, getting a slight laugh out of him.

"I would never" he says, eyes glistening with hope and happiness.

"Now would you like to have dinner with me? I made Lasagna"

"I would gladly"

At that he takes your right hand in his and interwines your fingers. He takes a last loving look at you, before taking you to the kitchen.

Little did he know that you two found each other again under a mistletoe that was hung up on the roof by him.

It's seems that Christmas really does create peace.

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

@skulfan1

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[diino8081]

chat what if i said i had yet ANOTHER ninjago crossover au

i already made ninjago x mcyt (mcyt in ninjago) but what if i ALSO made mcyt x ninjago (ninjago in mcyt)

i decided to spontaneously throw the ninja into the life series, specifically the newest season, wild life

the way they'd get there is through fighting the watchers. i'm not really sure why the watchers would be looking for them but it might be cause they're looking for new members and the ninja would be a fun twist.

the watchers, being the godlike entities they are, defeat the ninja rather easily; sending them through a purple portal that looks like the watcher symbol.

in the server, grian is giving the intro to the new series. suddenly the portal opens in the middle of the island, spewing the team out to the shock of the pre-existing members. those who are aware of the watchers and evo symbol are incredibly concerned.

there are introductions given and then most people scramble away and go to do their own thing, leaving the ninja, grian (who is very confused) and anyone curious enough on the spawn island.

finding nothing on why these new people are here, G tells the ninja there's nothing he can to to get them out unless they win or die. he gives them a small intro to the series and how things work and then leaves them to their own devices.

they kinda get better at the whole "world is cubes" thing and even end up punching a few trees for wood. the inventory system is a little jarring at first but most of them get used to it.

.

. .

. . .

aaaand then the wildcard hits. it's normal at first. but then they see giants in the distance and suddenly it's very much not.

it's all a bit mad really.

--

that's the end of the story part as it's getting late and i can feel my brain turning off. i'll write a few notes, headcanons and trivial things below though

i feel like at some point the ninja will get in a fight and split up

the ninja do have their elemental powers but only to a small extent

one of the wild cards, likely near the end, will grant the entire server an elemental power. (the watchers got inspired by the world of ninjago and thought it would cause some major chaos.) the elements are likely those from the characters seen in the tournament of elements/sources, though i don't doubt that the watchers may have also come up with their own. this wild card may continue beyond the session.

zane, being made out of metal, likely is able to survive quite a few hits. though i did some research and titanium doesn't last forever when faced with repeated damage. (that is if bullets hit the same spot. i feel like he'd be much more durable towards other stuff, however not immune.) he'd make it to top 3.

when the season ends everyone goes back to their world of origin. they will be summoned back to the life series world next season

wild cards can last multiple days. a week at most

in ninjago most animals like cows and horses don't exist. a lot of things are unfamiliar to them except for dragons, chickens and fish

the ninja likely made their base in the field behind ren and martyn's base or behind gem and joel's

ok i think that's it, at least for part 1. idk if i'll continue writing this but there is a good chance i will. thanks for reading

[darl-ingfics]

A Likely Distraction

Fandom: ATEEZ

Sickie: Hongjoong (cold, snz)

Caregiver(s): San

Word Count: 1,553

Hongjoong had had a long day. ATEEZ had been on tour for a month, and they’d just arrived in Chicago, Illinois, their first stop kicking off the North American leg of the tour. The day had begun at 3am so that they could arrive at the airport earlier than most paparazzi were willing to wait for them. There had been the usual airport challenges of security and customs lines, and keeping track of all the members. Then there was the layover, the waiting that was simultaneously too long and too short. Finally, the second flight. But the day was far from over: right off the plane, they’d been taken to a round of interviews with a handful of US news sources. The company had tried its best to rearrange those interviews, but their wishes had not been granted. 

Luckily, the boys were the slap happy kind of tired rather than cranky and whiny. Those interviews were perhaps some of the most entertaining they’d given. As the leader, and one of the only members proficient in English, Hongjoong did a lot of the talking. Or the real talking at least; he was the one hyping up their concert, explaining their comeback concept, detailing their goals as performers. Of course the other members chimed in when they felt comfortable, especially Seonghwa and San, which Hongjoong appreciated. Especially because his throat had started hurting midway through their second flight, and it was only becoming increasingly more painful despite all the water he was drinking. 

Immediately after they’d bid goodbye to the final interviewer, the whole group’s energy dipped. An unusual quiet fell over the group as they shuffled to the van, suddenly too tired to even consider horsing around anymore. 

The drive to the hotel was mercifully short. Hongjoong could not wait to shower and fall into bed. A headache had begun to pound behind his eyes. 

The mangers had already divided rooms. Hongjoong had been paired with San. He didn’t mind that too much, although the leader had been hoping to room with Seonghwa. Hongjoong knew, despite his highest hopes, that he was coming down with something, and he wouldn’t have to hide that from Seonghwa; his fellow 98’ liner would be able to read him before Hongjoong even had the chance to pretend. He had no desire to worry San, and would therefore need to be a bit more cautious about his symptoms as they arose. Which wasn’t the end of the world, but was an additional burden nonetheless. 

But Hongjoong couldn’t stay mad after San shot him the brightest smile on their way to the elevators. 

“You wanna shower first?” San asked immediately upon entry to their room, flopping back onto the closer bed. 

“That would be great, if you’re okay with it.”

San nodded, propping himself up on one elbow. “Of course! That’s why I offered.” He grinned again. “I’ll find us some snacks.” Hongjoong wondered where all of this energy was coming from as San shot back to his feet and began rummaging in his luggage. 

“Did you pack snacks?”

“Duh!” San held up two boxes of said snacks. 

Hongjoong shook his head, laughing at his friend’s antics before snapping forward, “ET’Chuh!“ He blinked, his own body catching him completely off guard.

“Bless you!” San chirped as he continued sifting through the contents of his bag. 

Hongjoong flushed with embarrassment. “Thanks,” he mumbled before moving to his own luggage, quickly locating his shower things. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time. I’m suddenly bursting with energy again.”

“Great. Looks like we’re in for some good bedtime stories then.” San turned back to him with a devious grin. Bedtime stories had become a tradition amongst the group whenever they were sharing hotel rooms. They’d collaboratively build stories together, becoming sillier and more ridiculous the closer they got to sleep. Sure, Hongjoong would rather just pass out tonight, but San was notoriously the best storyteller in the group. 

Hongjoong’s smile faded as soon as he’d closed the bathroom door behind him. He rested his back against the door momentarily. He sniffled against a sudden itch in his sinuses. Pitched forward with another “ET’Chuh!“ 

“Bless you!” San called through the door. Hongjoong knocked an acknowledgment, pressing a knuckle against his nose as he rushed to get into the shower. Hopefully the hot water and steam would help kick out whatever bug was attempting to overthrow his body. Especially this new itch in his nose. Sneezing wasn’t exactly an easy symptom to hide. 

The success of the shower was mixed. The hot water did wonders on his sore muscles, easing the ache in his head, and of course removing the sweat and layer of ick that Hongjoong always felt after being on airplanes. On the flip side, though, the steam had loosened things up in his head, and he wasn’t able to stop himself from sneezing a few times, praying the water was loud enough for San not to hear him. Hopefully, this was just his body’s way of removing the yuck now, his immune system doing what it needed to expel the intruder. Hongjoong convinced himself he’d been right as rain tomorrow. 

Still, after exiting the shower, he wrapped himself in the warmest sweatshirt he’d brought and pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks he’d stolen from Wooyoung before they left. 

“How was the shower?” San asked as soon as Hongjoong stepped through the door. The younger man was lounging on his chosen bed, watching something on his phone, a few snack wrapped on the bed next to him. 

“Heavenly.” Hongjoong scrubbed at his nose with his sweatshirt sleeve. The cooler air of the room was a bit of a shock after the steamy post-shower bathroom. 

“Oooo, I can’t wait.” San rubbed his hands together with cartoonish excitement as he collected his wrappers and hopped off the bed. Hongjoong chuckled a bit before he felt his breath catch. With just that little bit of warning, he was able to completely stifle a sneeze in his sleeve, absolutely silent. San had his back turned to him anyway as he dug through his bag. 

“You didn’t have your stuff ready?” Hongjoong asked around another laugh. He could feel the itch creeping back, and he held his sleeve up in warning. 

“Yeah, I got distracted by the snacks.” San was luckily currently still distracted by the quest for his shower things that he missed another stifled sneeze that bent Hongjoong at the waist. He couldn’t help the sniffle that followed, through, thick and stuffy. 

“Aha!” San cheered, holding up his shower bag. “Gotcha!” He turned back to Hongjoong with a brilliant smile that faded almost instantly. “Hyung, are you okay?”

“Ye-yeah,” Hongjoong breathed out before he gasped, once again snapping at the waist. “ET’Chuh! ET’Chuh! Heh… heh… HE-atCHUH!” 

San’s brow furrowed as he vaulted to his feet, abandoning his shower bag in favor of the box of tissues from the bathroom. He found the captain coughing roughly when he returned. “Here, here.” San snatched a handful of tissues from the box and forced them into Hongjoong’s hands. He waited, rubbing his back as his friend blew his nose, scrubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. “Bless you, Joong.”

The captain flushed, squeezing his eyes closed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

San shook his head. “For what?” he asked around a laugh. His hand moved up and down Hongjoong’s back. The older man wasn’t meeting his eyes. “Hyung, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting weird.”

“No, I’m acting tired.”

“You’re sick, aren’t you?”

“No…”

“You want me to snuggle with you?”

“No…”

“You know I’m a really good snuggler.”

“I’m not doubting you, I just don’t want snuggles right now.”

“Why? Is it cause you’re sick and don’t want me to know?”

Hongjoong turned to him with a weak glare. “Why are you so persistent?”

San’s lips quirked up. “Why do you feel like you have to hide it from me?”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me…”

“Hyung, you not telling me makes me worry more!” Hongjoong shrugged, lacking a clever reply. San frowned. “And, if you hadn’t said anything, then I couldn’t have given you the cold medicine I have packed in my suitcase.” Hongjoong looked up at him with hope in his eyes. “See? It’s not so bad to admit you’re sick. It comes with perks.” 

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Hongjoong sniffled, pressing another tissue to his nose as it had started running again. San tossed the box onto the captain’s bed as he turned back to his suitcase to find the pills he’d packed. “But thank you. For the meds.”

“Of course. That’s why I bring them.” As San continued to rummage (he’d messed things up earlier looking for his snacks, and the hunt for the shower bag hadn’t helped.) As he watched, an adoring smile on his face, Hongjoong’s breath hitched again, and he caught another sneeze in his tissue. 

“Bless you!”

“You don’t have to keep saying that…”

San shrugged as he turned around, pill packet in hand. “I don’t mind.”

“I do.” 

A tiny smile spread on San’s lips as he noticed his captain’s face flushing red again, recognizing his discomfort. “Okay then. That last one will just apply moving forward.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

[emma23]

Out of your league ? :

Steven grant x reader

————————————————————————

The day had been a whirlwind of excitement. You and Steven had been dating for a while now, but tonight was different. Tonight, you were meeting his friends, the wild party crowd he'd told you about. But your stomach twisted with nerves as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, second-guessing everything.

Steven was downstairs, fumbling around in the kitchen, probably talking to himself again as he tried to remember where he'd put his keys. He was adorably disorganized, yet utterly devoted. You adored him, but tonight... tonight you felt like you just weren’t enough.

You slipped on your dress and sighed, smoothing it down over your hips. It was a flattering dress, sure, but was it enough? Could it make you feel like you belonged with Steven's cool, stylish friends?

Just as you were about to head downstairs, Steven appeared at the door, eyes wide and immediately filled with admiration. "Wow, you look stunning, love. I mean, blimey..." His eyes scanned you up and down, making you feel a bit warmer than you'd intended.

You smiled but felt the insecurity creep back in. “Thanks, Steven. I just… I want to look good tonight. For you. For your friends.”

He tilted his head, clearly confused. “You always look good, love. And it’s not for them, it’s for us.”

The drive to the party was quiet, tension simmering beneath the surface. Steven, ever the gentleman, was rambling on about the Egyptian exhibit he'd seen earlier, oblivious to your nervous fidgeting.

“Steven,” you interrupted softly, “Do you really think I’m pretty enough? I mean, next to all of your friends, I don’t really stand out. I’m not... you know, like the girls you see in magazines.”

He blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. "What? Are you mad? You're perfect as you are!" His voice was sincere, but your doubts persisted.

"I just... I don’t want them to think you're too good for me," you admitted, twisting the fabric of your dress anxiously. "I mean, you’re smart, and handsome, and I’m just—"

Steven suddenly pulled over, parking the car on the side of the road. He turned to face you, his deep brown eyes searching yours. "Love, why are you trying so hard to be something you already are?"

You stared at him, momentarily speechless. "What do you mean?"

He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "You're beautiful. The way you are. Right now. Frizzy hair, sweaty, whatever—you're mine. And I want you exactly like this."

Your heart melted at his words, but you couldn’t stop the small voice in your head. "But your friends, Steven. They’re going to see me, and they’ll think—"

"Who cares what they think?" Steven interrupted, his voice firmer now. "We're going out tonight because you wanted to. I’d have skipped it if I could. These are just... wild party friends from back in the day. If you don't like them, they don't have to be a part of my life."

You blinked in shock. "You’d give up your friends for me?"

Without hesitation, Steven nodded. "Love, I’m asking you to change your whole life and move here just to take a chance on us. So whatever you need to feel secure, I’ll give it to you. I haven’t seen these clowns in months, and honestly? I’m not missing anything."

His honesty warmed your heart, but something about his willingness to sacrifice his social circle didn’t sit right with you. "Steven, that’s sweet, but that’s not what I want. That’s what your ex did to you, isn’t it?" You reached over and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his. "May I teach you a love lesson for once?"

Steven looked at you with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Sure, love, go ahead."

You smiled softly. "Don’t be with a woman who wants you to give up your friends for her. Be with someone who wants to be a part of the things you like and love. That’s what a real partner does."

He chuckled softly, squeezing your hand. "You’re right. You always are. I’m just obsessed with you, love. Sometimes I don’t think straight."

You grinned, feeling your nerves start to fade. "I’m obsessed with you too. But that doesn’t mean you have to give up your friends for me."

Steven leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "Well, I still think you’re out of their league."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe," he smiled, then glanced at his watch. "We still have time before the party. You know, we could… head back home." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm. "Steven, we are not skipping the party just to... do that."

"Just thought I’d ask," he said innocently, before giving you a sly grin. "But if you’re into it…"

"Drive," you commanded, trying to keep a straight face, but the warmth in his gaze was enough to make you lean over and kiss him again.

Steven pulled back onto the road, but not before muttering, "Can’t believe I’m driving away from that... What a waste."

You giggled, leaning back into your seat. "You’re lucky I love you."

"Oh, I know I’m lucky, love," Steven replied with a smile. "Trust me, I know."

By the end of the night, after meeting his surprisingly friendly friends, you felt lighter. Steven held your hand the whole time, never once letting go. And as you both climbed back into the car, you looked at him and said, "You know, they’re not so bad."

"Not as bad as you thought?" he asked, winking.

You grinned, shaking your head. "No. But you’re still a dork."

He turned to you with a mischievous grin. "Yeah, but I’m your dork”

[lasanya539]

no restitution comes tonight

(based on this piece by @darkpolicepsycho)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles TW: Mentions of Su!cide Word Count: 5639

Posted on AO3!

---

It was just supposed to be an extraction mission, Donnie thinks.

It's dark in the med bay, the lights are turned down. The digital clock on the wall blinks to 2:35, 2:36, 2:37 A.M. It's cold in here, but it doesn't bother him. The purple hoodie he's wearing should be preserving some heat, but Donnie genuinely can't feel a thing. The sensations of his body are a far-away concept, like sand between his fingers, slipping away no matter how much he tries to hold on to them.

It was just supposed to be an extraction mission.

He blinks. And blinks again. For the first time since that night, his brain registers a feeling: dry eyes, crusty and in pain. Surely the result of staring at his purple holograms for the last few hours. A multitude of readings crowd the screens, the numbers changing with the continuous recordings of heart rate and blood pressure and body heat and pulse ox levels and— He breathes, turning his eyes away. The holograms glow in the room. His eyes track the shadows they form on the bed against the wall, haloing its occupant in a pretty lavender hue as he sleeps on.

Donnie stands up, bones creaking. He stretches, hearing something in his back crack; he’s been slouched over the plastic chair of the med bay for hours now. He walks to the stretcher, quietly, towards a slumbering Leo.

It's weird to see him like this. So vulnerable. Leo's notorious insomnia, combined with how light of a sleeper he is, has made it nearly impossible for any of the brothers to catch him passed out on them. It's almost always the other way around: Raph on the couch after a movie marathon, Mikey on the kitchen table surrounded by  comics, Donnie in his lab chair after a night of obsessing over his newest hyperfixation. They always wake up to find a warm blanket tucked over their shoulders, and a silly stuffed toy by their heads to greet them in the morning.

Donnie gulps, running a gentle hand over the blanket that covers Leo now. As much as he wishes, this isn't a night of miraculous deep sleep for his twin, a full eight hours of Leo's perpetually tired mind cycling through all stages of NREM and REM.

No, he thinks, turning to check his vitals again. This is much worse.

It was just supposed to be an extraction mission.

The objective was simple: get into the Hidden City, into Witch Town, sneak into the Museum of Mystical Artefacts and Gems, steal an obsidian diamond dagger, and leave unobtrusively. That was it, that was all. The Mad Dogs have done dozens of similar missions in the past. Granted though, the stakes of this one were a bit higher: the mystical obsidian, inlaid with unrefined diamond, was apparently the only thing strong enough to destroy the Krang key. And the sooner they got rid of the wretched thing, the better.

It had been going well; they snuck in and pulled off the heist, with the weapon safely tucked away with Raph, and they were on their way out, leaving behind a decoy without tripping any of the alarms. Everything had been perfect.

Until Donatello was recognized. By none other than the mayor of Witch Town.

Mira singled him out almost immediately, her shrill voice drawing the attention of all the Witch Town residents out and about. He'd been naive enough to believe that his little feud from two years ago would have been forgotten, an old mistake made by the last vestiges of his youthful arrogance. But he was wrong, very wrong.

And Leo paid for it.

He should have seen the verbal attacks coming, he really should have. He also shouldn't have responded to her accusations with barbs of his own, already on the defense, angry, and jeopardizing their extremely important mission. Leo's voice was clear in the comms in his ear, the calm and collected leader, telling him to back off before things got worse. But he didn't listen, until there was a whole crowd of angry witches surrounding him.

He could've managed it, Donnie thinks bitterly now, a finger on his brother's pulse point on his wrist. Fine, okay, he might have blown some stuff up, caused much more of a scene than any of them planned for on this trip, but he could have managed it. But his stupid, self-sacrificial twin just had to jump in the middle of the conflict, Face-Man routine on full blast.

Leo and his crowd-working, situation-diffusing skills, managed to calm almost everyone down. One lie here, one exaggeration here, one self-deprecating joke there, and the people were in the palm of his hand, swept up into the Neon Leon magic. No one could argue with that bright grin and those confident, shining eyes, as Leo hooked an arm over Donnie's shoulder and started to guide him out.

He managed to fool hundreds of witches and wizards. Except Mira.

Donnie noticed her a second too late, didn't see her narrowed stare and tightening grip on her staff. His eyes were for Leo only, watching a side of his twin he hadn’t seen surface in weeks, not sure if he was glad for the reappearance or not.

When he finally did see her, he barely had time to gasp, seeing her staff pointed directly to the center of his plastron. He’d braced himself in that one millisecond, squeezing his eyes shut. Before he was forcefully pushed out of the way.

A veilbreaker curse, Draxum had called it, when he was frantically summoned to the lair as the three brothers rushed a passed-out Leo back home. Mikey had nearly been in tears, hiccuping into the phone call, begging him to bring all his books on any kind of mystic knowledge to them. The alchemist had stood over Leo, a hand resting on his forehead with a gentleness only their own father had ever shown them, an ancient scroll open in front of him as he recited, Shatter the facade and lay bare the soul.

Donnie grips Leo's hand tightly now, gritting his teeth.

With one wayward swipe, he makes all his floating holograms disappear. The readings they're showing him are irrelevant to Leo’s real condition. 

He fixes the goggles on his head over his eyes, tapping the side to activate the long-hidden crystal. His breath catches in his lungs at the sight before, the same way it did when he first looked through the mystic lenses.

Ichor. The golden blood that flows in the veins of gods. Comes from the Greek word ikhṓr. It's a bit of a misconception, actually, that ichor is gold in color. Several representations of Greek mythology disagree, some arguing for blue, some arguing for plain red.

Still, it's the only word that comes to Donnie's mind, as he watches the liquid drip down the edges of Leo's face, tear-like droplets rolling off his head, cheek, temple, chin. As if a mask has been carved out of his face, and the wound is oozing, like blood seeping from a deep gash.

He shudders out a breath, and forcefully takes off the goggles. The horrifying vision disappears, and he's greeted with the simple sleeping visage of his twin.

It doesn't make it any easier. Donnie presses his knuckles into his lips. In fact, it makes it all the more terrifying. It’s a problem lying beyond the physical reach. Beyond Donnie's reach. Something's broken, something needs to be fixed, something that’s hurting his family, and he can't fix it.

He's a man of science. And despite the lessons he’s learned over the last many months, mysticism is still the one thing he can't solve.

He squeezes Leo's hand once more involuntarily, trying to subdue the swell of emotions rising in his body, grounding himself with the vice-like grip.

"Dude. Ow."

He jolts in response, retracting immediately as his heart thunders in his chest. "S-sorry, shit. Sorry."

Leo's bleary eyes peer up at him through the slight frown of someone unwillingly woken up. He blinks at him once, then yawns, languidly stretching, not unlike a cat.

Donnie lets out a snort against his will. Leo gives him a look.

"Somethin' funny?" He mumbles, as if his brain isn't completely online yet. "You know it's not nice to use my actions against me when I'm not even awake enough to recite the first ten digits of pi yet."

"You're never awake enough for that." He responds.

Leo rubs his nose sleepily, still managing to look miffed. “I know the first ten digits.” He grouses. “Three, one, four, one. Uh…”

“Uh-huh.” Donnie says, voice tinged with amusement at the familiar bantering. “Keep going, genius. Next number is a five.”

Leo seems to think for a minute, before he huffs. “Whatever, I know the digits, okay? I’m just not awake enough for them right now.”

Donnie’s lip twitches. Leo bends and reaches over the side of the stretcher, pressing the button on the side that raises the angle of the head section, until he nestles in comfortably in a semi-sitting position.

"Better?" Donnie asks, as he rubs at his eyes, trying to wake himself up.

All of a sudden, Leo freezes, like the lightening bolt of realization strikes him at once. He jolts forwards with a panicked look. Donnie startles.

"The dagger!" He exclaims, reaching out to grip him tightly to convey his urgency. "The – the whole Witch Town thing! Did we figure it out? Are Mikey and Raph—"

"They're all fine." Donnie interrupts, resting a comforting hand over the fingers as they dig into his forearm. "We figured it out. The dagger and key are with the Caseys, and the three of us got out safe, I promise.”

Leo stares into Donnie's eyes longer, as if trying to decide for himself. The hesitation at believing him stings, a silent question lingering between them. But then he eventually sighs, his relief palpable, lying back and letting go.

"Okay, okay, that's good." Leo breathes, smiling at him. "You're all okay, that's great."

He purses his lips. "Yeah." He says curtly. "All of us except you."

Leo blinks, as if surprised. Donnie gapes at him; he hadn’t hurt his head, and the spell that hit him wasn’t a memory spell, right? 

“You got hurt, Leonardo. Ring any bells? Why do you think you’re in the med bay right now?”

“Oh… oh, yeah, I remember.” He responds, somehow sounding even more dismissive about it. “But I��m not in pain at all, and it doesn’t feel like I’m not on meds. So I’m fine, then.”

Leo starts shifting, throwing off his blanket as if he was planning on leaving, but Donnie’s cutthroat glare stops him. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He demands. “That witch hit you with a curse, dum-dum, you’re staying here.”

Leo barely looks moved. Was he just planning on getting hexed and going about his life like normal? 

Still, he asks obligatorily, "What kind of curse?" 

"Does it matter?" Donnie snaps. Of course it does, but Leo’s nonchalance at the whole matter is pissing him off further. "If I tell you it's nothing, you'll act like it's nothing, won't you?"

"Dude, if it's nothing, then why would I bother anyone with it?"

The reply seems to stupefy both of them. Leo genuinely looks stunned at himself, eyes wide at the extremely honest answer. Donnie mirrors him, before composing himself.

"Even if it was nothing, I would want to be bothered with it." He says slowly, hoping to convey how clear that expectation was, but then shakes his head. "And it wasn't nothing. It was a curse, a genuine curse. It was all - pink and glowy and ominous." He gestures with his hands, driving his point home. "Draxum said it was a veilbreaker. Ancient, powerful magic. Enough to make you pass out." He emphasizes again. How is Leo not getting that through his thick skull?

He still just sits there like an idiot, as if he still doesn't understand the problem. "But I’m fine now, right?"

Donnie wants to be difficult on purpose, make some kind of joke about you're supposed to be the medic, you tell me. But it's too late in the night for taunts, and the image of glowing ichor from before keeps flashing behind his eyelids.

"Your vitals are normal." He reports. "As far as I can tell, you're physically fine—"

"Then we're good, jeez—"

"But mystically," Donnie continues, irate, "you’re not. There's enough energy emanating off of you that Draxum clocked you the second he stepped foot in the lair. He's worried, dumbass. And if Draxum is worried, you know it's bad."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Leo asks, a tad sharper than Donnie expects. He’s scowling at him, like he's the one getting irritated. "Sit in a bed, wait for Mikey's Pops to give me the all-clear?"

"Yes." Donnie pauses before he forces the word out, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're supposed to wait until you're better to get back to... whatever it is you're planning on getting back to! Is that seriously such a surprise to you?"

Leo just huffs, crossing his arms and almost pouting, like a child. Sometimes his twin boggles his mind. 

"Are you being purposefully obtuse for some reason?” Donnie asks, exasperatedly. 

"I don't feel any different than normal, dude, and I have more important things to do—"

"Like what? Read a Jupiter Jim comic I know you've read a billion times before? Drink enough caffeine to give a horse a heart attack? Go walk around New York City in the middle of the night? Yeah, I know about that," Donnie adds when Leo looks surprised. "Of course I know about that, who the hell do you take me for? I told you, I have trackers on everyone and on everything."

Leo bares his teeth at him, pissed. "Stop fucking tracking me."

"Stop getting into trouble." He responds, and maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because Leo's face transforms from anger into hurt so quickly it gives him whiplash.

Donnie promptly tries to do some damage control, guilty. "No, that's not what I meant."

"No, that is." Leo bluntly states. He's gripping the edge of the blanket tightly, eyes narrow. "You mean that. You think all I do is 'get into trouble'.’

"Okay, no, stop twisting my words, that's not what I fucking said." Donnie almost snarls. God, he hates when Leo does this, taking one thing he's spoken in a moment of anger and distorting it, sharpening it to a point. Like a knife to stab himself with, whether to prove something to Donnie or to himself, no one knows. "That is not 'all you do'. But I have a tracker on you because I’m worried about you. It’s the exact same reason why I have a tracker on Raph and Mikey and April and Dad.”

Leo looks a little mollified, and Donnie ignores the quiet voice in the back of his mind that calls him a liar.

"You don't have to be that worried about me, Dee." He replies. Genuine, tired. "I'm all good, I always am."

Donnie has to remind himself to take the next breath, despite it feeling like it's been squeezed out of him. A ball of frustration rises in his throat, and he manages to speak around it gruffly, "Why did you take the hit for me, Leo?"

Leo blinks again, either at the question or the tone, it's hard to tell. "Huh?"

"The curse." He grits out. "Why did you jump and take the hit, when you knew Mira aimed it at me?"

"Because there was no way in hell I was going to let you get hurt," comes the immediate reply, and it's sincere, it's so sincere that it once again shocks Leo, who refuses to meet his eye.

"Even at your own expense?" Donnie asks, desperation tainting his voice. "Leo. That spell could have been anything, from – from a dumb itching hex to a fucking Avada Kedavra, don't you understand that?"

“Yeah, of course I understand that.” He responds with equal fervor. “Which is why I couldn't let it hit you."

"So you took it?"

"Yeah, Don, ‘cause it's fine if it’s me!"

Hysterically, Donnie wonders if they're in a telenovela, and the words exclaimed by Leo are repeatedly echoing in the room as loudly as they are echoing between his eardrums. If there really is dramatic music playing in the background, or if it's just an overwhelming buzzing happening in his mind, drowning out all other sounds.

There are faint flickers of gold at the edges of Leo's face, just barely present, shimmering like the surface of a liquid, as he heaves out a breath. He curls up into a ball, knees tucked in, trying to hide, as if that would take the words out of the air.

Donnie can feel his brain whirring, thoughts and equations and memories playing on repeat, trying to figure out the basis of this outlandish concept that his twin has somehow ingrained into his psyche. That somehow, Leo getting hurt is 'fine', in any context.

He can't think of a single reason why.

Well. A single valid reason, anyway.

Because the reality is that he knows Leo. All that bolstering and blabbering and omitting and deflecting; it all can fool others, fool the world, fool their father, sometimes even their other siblings. But it can’t fool Donnie.

Not Donnie, because he's watched him create this… other version of himself, slowly and meticulously. He’s been an audience to his twin picking up this role like an ill-fitting shirt, carefully tearing and stitching and stretching and pulling at it over the years, until he grew into it flawlessly. A perfect cover, so that putting it on or taking it off would make no difference. Blurring the line between them into indiscernibility, so no one would be able to tell there was anything missing in the first place. Like a Schrödinger's Leo, except the cat and the box are one and the same. Can't see the cat without looking into the box; can’t find the box without asking the cat. 

But Donnie can see it in front of him, both the box and the cat, now that the veil has been broken. Hamato Leonardo. The facade shattered and soul laid bare. The mask carved out and the ichor trickling away.  

He closes his eyes and lets out a bitter scoff, tinged with dark amusement. Who knew witches had a penchant for poetic irony?

"You think you getting hurt is better than any of us getting hurt?" Donnie asks him, point blank.

Leo curls into himself more, eyes flitting away, the action an answer in itself. The gold tears marring the sides of his face shine a little brighter, highlighting his red stripes unnaturally.

"You think – what? You don't want to see us hurt, so you'd rather take it?" He blinks back the wet burning he feels in his eyes. "Don't you think we don't want to see you hurt either? For any of our sakes?"

Leo sniffles into his arms. "It's not the same."

"Why?" Donnie implores. "What makes you so different from us?"

Leo looks away, but he puts a hand around his arm and pulls roughly, almost toppling him. Leo tries to jerk back, but Donnie glares at him angrily.

"No, answer me." He asks, done with it. "Why do you think you’re so different, huh? What gives you the right to be so... so arrogant, to hold yourself to a different standard than us?"

Leo frees himself, appalled. The ichor glows and drips. "It's not arrogance!"

"Then what is it?" Donnie snaps. "Self-hatred? Self-pity? Sheer idiocy?"

"It's my job!" Leo finally exclaims, eyes wide and earnest. A powerful visage dripped in gold, tension present every line of his body. Donnie’s throat dries at the sight, eyes ticking over the liquid covering him.

"To protect what's important is my job, Donatello. You and Raph and Mikey - the Hamato clan would be nothing without you three. This family would be nothing without you three. It’s like - it’s like Raph is our earth, our ground, what we stand upon. Mikey is our sun, our happiness. And you are our air, all-encompassing and ever-present. You're needed."

Leo gurgles out a laugh, all distorted in pain and sorrow. The ichor gushes out of his whole face, falling into his eyes and dripping over his nose and lips, fat drops rolling off into his hoodie and blankets. "What the hell do I do, dude? Be the Face-Man? The Face-Man isn't even fucking real, Donnie, it's just a ruse. I'm just a ruse." His eyes, wet with gold and salt, bore into him in a piercing gaze.

"All I have are my stupid swords and my portals, and - what did I used to call it? My rad ninjosity?” He scoffs resentfully. “None of it is real, man, there's nothing here. If there was, I wouldn't have caused the end of the goddamn world, we wouldn't have ever needed that stupid dagger to break the key, no one would have been cursed."

He covers his eyes with his arm, the sobs he's trying to suppress making themselves known in short, staccato hiccups. "You’re right, you know. All I do is get in trouble, mess things up. But I try so fucking hard to stop. I train in the dojo, I work out at night when I can’t sleep – I’m trying to get better. Because if I-I can't even keep you safe, what the hell am I here for?"

Donnie's vision is blurry, his heart breaking messily, as Leo cries, hiding himself out of shame. There are words that he should say to his twin, comforting, validating assurances. Yet all Donnie can do is slowly raise his hand to cradle his cheek, right over the mystical wound, around the edges of his stripes. The soft touch makes Leo peer at him, an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but all he can focus on is the drip, drip, drip of the golden liquid onto his palm. 

It feels warm, like real blood, shimmering over his green skin. But it sends a cold shiver through his whole body as it trickles down his arm.

Leo just watches him, as the final dregs of his mask finally fall off, bleed off. Donnie watches the ichor disappear into mystical nothingness, a vague and uncomfortable mixture of horror and relief forming in his chest.

He lifts his gaze, and comes face-to-face with Leo. The real Leo. Laid bare.

Donnie can't help it any longer, he lurches forward, practically pouncing on him as he hugs him in a crushing embrace. Leo doesn't even hesitate, burying himself into the crook of his neck.

Donnie runs a flat, comforting hand over his shell through his blue hoodie, trying to calm down the stuttering breaths. Tears escape from his eyes that he rushes to brush away. Now is not about him.

"Is this what the root problem has been?" He finally asks, quietly. "Is this what's been driving you, this entire time?"

Leo just squeezes him tighter, like he'd rather just fuse and disappear into the embrace. Donnie closes his eyes, understanding the need on a fundamental level, in a way only two twins ever could.

"It just made sense." Leo eventually whispers into the silence as they hold each other. "Jumping for you. It made sense."

Crack. Another fissure in his already-broken heart. Donnie's head falls onto his shoulder. 

Does Leo even mean it like that? Does he know how that statement applies beyond the confines of a random spell by a random witch in the Hidden City?

Jumping for you in front of a curse. Jumping for you in front of a demon. Jumping for you into hell.

Donnie sniffles loudly. "And if it had killed you?"

He'd asked him that once, before. Weeks ago, when it was a quiet night after the worst day of their lives, right here in the med bay. Twins sitting side by side, two stretchers set up right next to each other so they could hold hands as they recovered. When a drug-induced exhaustion had numbed away their pretenses into asking anything that came to mind. 

Shame that the drugs had wiped away any memory of the answer he got.

Donnie wonders vaguely if it had been the same answer he gets now, if Leo had given him as much of an undisguised truth as he does now.

"You would have survived." A hoarse voice near his ear. "You would have hurt for a bit, but you would have survived."

Donnie can't help the upset sob that tears through him at that answer, how it makes Leo startle, and squeeze him even harder.

Because that's the worst part, right? Truth is subjective, completely utterly subjective, as infuriating that is to a scientist. It's not as simple as holding up a book and asking two people sitting on opposite sides if it's red or black. It's holding up a book and asking two people sitting on opposite sides which it deserves to be, red or black. Which is better, which is worse? Which color connotes it as good, bad, noble, unworthy? Depends on the person, right? After all, which one of them is holding the book?

"I'm sorry." Leo whispers, and he’s being honest, Donnie knows it. "I'm so sorry."

It’s a mangled truth, though. "Sorry enough to never do it again?"

Leo doesn't reply. Another tear rolls off Donnie’s face.

"I wouldn't survive." He says. Starting off somewhere, a real, honest truth. No masks, no disguises, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. No subjectivity. 

"If it killed you, if anything killed you," including yourself, Donnie adds silently, knowing this moment is far too tender to say it out loud, "I wouldn't survive. I almost didn't, you know. When... when that happened."

Leo tenses in his arms. "We're not talking about that."

"I am." Donnie taps nervously on his shell. The Krang invasion, as taboo of a topic as it is in their household, almost killed every single one of them, that’s true. But Leo’s sacrifice – it almost destroyed their entire family. "You jumped into the… through the gateway, because you thought that would save us. But you closed the portal on yourself, knowing you were going to die.

"And you did, for me." He admits, the words warped through tears, the confession coming from the depths of his soul. "For five minutes and twenty-six seconds, you, Hamato Leonardo, left me a twinless twin."

One sharp squeeze, strong to make Leo gasp. "Y-you made me mourn you. And I almost didn't survive it, the same way you almost didn't survive that either.

"Do you get that?" He practically begs, way past the point of desperation. "There is no me, no Raph or Mikey or Dad, without you. There is no Hamato without you, Leon."

"You - you would've—"

"I wouldn't." Donnie cuts off his token protest, given to him despite the overwhelming evidence for the contrary. "I wouldn’t. You once said you're nothing without your brothers, right? Your brothers are nothing without you either."

It takes a few seconds, and Donnie holds out for just a bit more, trying to maintain his stance for a bit longer, anything to make Leo get it. This isn’t a problem that can be solved with one heartfelt conversation, he understands that. No matter how much he wishes, this still isn’t a broken gadget in the physical realm that he can fix; Donnie can’t connect the wires in the right places, make the electrical impulses travel through the right circuits, change the way Leo thinks about himself. He still can’t solve Leo. 

But he can say how much he needs him, how much he loves him, over and over again. As many times as it requires him to. 

And eventually, his twin caves, collapsing into him, pressing all his weight on him. Donnie rocks backwards with it, but manages to stay upright. Compensating for Leo, in more than one sense. Two halves of a whole. In perfect symmetry, in equal balance.

He rests a comforting hand over his head, offering nothing but the pressure, taking a page out of Splinter’s book of raising little crying turtles. That seems enough to make Leo gasp out another sob. And another. And a few more. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying." Leo babbles, rubbing his face into Donnie's hoodie, trying to wipe the tears.

"You're exhausted of the burden that's been sitting over your skin for years." Donnie replies slowly. He checks his other palm, the one he'd cradled his face with, feeling the haunting liquid dripping between his fingers. But there’s nothing there, never was; it’s all just plain green skin. 

He sighs, clenching his hand into a tight fist. Stupid mysticism. 

He gently bonks Leo’s head with his. "You don't have to bear it any longer, Leon, not for our sakes, nor yours."

Leo lets out a tiny sound from the back of his throat, a small, vulnerable thing, that punches Donnie in the gut. "I'm sorry."

"For being exhausted?" He asks quietly. "That's not something to be sorry for.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” Leo mumbles. “Just feels like I’m sorry for something, I don’t know what.”

Donnie lets out a breath between his teeth. Not for the first time, he wishes he could go into his twin’s mind and physically beat up all the emotions in there, steal some uranium and cook up a nuclear bomb to blow up every bad thought that crowds his mind. That could solve Leo, if such a thing were possible.

“You did steal my favorite Jolly Ranchers today.” He answers, somewhat deliriously, trying to get rid of the nonsensical image of throwing a cartoon dynamite stick into the dark, evil clouds in Leo’s brain. “Maybe you’re feeling sorry about that.”

That surprises a wet chuckle out of him. “Hey – that’s on you, okay? You keep hogging the watermelon ones.”

“I save the blue raspberry for you, isn’t blue supposed to be your ‘thing’?”

“Oh, like you’d have the grape ones just because they’re purple.”

“I wouldn’t have the grape ones if they were the last thing to eat on planet earth.”

Leo chokes out another laugh, and Donnie can feel the weak smile pressed into his shoulder. It makes him feel lighter, the roiling mess of feelings between them finally slowing down.

"You know," he says wonderingly after a few moments of quiet. "If— if Raph really is the ground. And Mikey is the sun, and I'm the air. Then... then I think you'd be a tree."

Leo sputters into another laugh. "What? A ‘tree’?"

"Yes, a tree." Donnie continues stubbornly, refusing to be embarrassed. "Just – hear me out. You'd be the tree, the thing that connects all of us together. Your roots grow into the ground, that's where you get your nutrients and water from; that's Raph. You draw energy from the rays of the sun to produce glucose; that's Mikey. And you engage in photosynthesis with the air, that's me, by using both the water and the light energy, converting carbon dioxide to oxygen. Breathing life into everyone around you. That's you, my dearest twin."

Leo trembles in his arms, a full-body tremor that seems to overpower any other emotion. "You think so?"

"I promise you." 

“You’re not just saying that because I’m green, like chlorophyll?”

“No, dum-dum, we're all green.” He huffs, fondness undeniably seeping through. "And you should know better than to doubt my genius. I’m smarter than you, after all."

"Yeah." Leo whispers, easily conceding. "You are."

Donnie smiles, a real and genuine thing. Now, that's an honest truth if he's ever heard one.

Eventually, Leo extricates from the embrace, wiping his entire face with the sleeve of his hoodie. Donnie winces slightly, but when it’s pulled away, there’s still no sign of the mystic ichor. 

Leo looks at him, and the only thing dripping from his face is pure tiredness, bloodshot eyes and a watery but authentic smile. A shattered facade.

“But I was right, though, huh?” He still says, in a teasing voice that Donnie rolls his eyes at. “The curse wasn’t that big a deal. Mira just really hated the Face-Man routine.”

“Or she was trying to expose me, as I truly am,” Donnie says, a dramatic sigh injected into the words that makes him grin wider. “A mad scientist that still scorns the inexplicable concept of magic.”

“We probably should’ve explained our Ninpo to her.”

“Oh sure, because the ‘power of family and friendship’ is somehow a better explanation than the tried-and-tested scientific method, he says extremely sarcastically.”

He laughs. “Hey, she let us off with a relatively harmless curse, so cut her some slack, alright? I mean, yeah, the whole 'getting-rid-of-fakeness' schtick was pretty harsh, full points to her on that one. But that was it, right?”

Donnie levels another, serious gaze at him that sobers him right up. “Not exactly.”

“¿Pérdon?”

"Draxum said the spell has a pretty bad side-effect, actually."

"He did?" Leo asks, alarmed. "Like what?"

Donnie grabs his hand and squeezes, hoping to look sympathetic. "Really, really bad constipation."

"...You're kidding."

"I'd stock up on the Miralax, Leo.” He says, appropriately contritely. “You know how bad it can get. Remember Mikey when he ate two party-sized Whole Foods cheese boards?"

"Oh, god," Leo blanches. "You're not kidding."

"Yeah, no I'm not. Sorry, I guess this is the one thing the power of family can't save you from."

Leo pauses, before grabbing a pillow and slamming it on Donnie's face, as he laughs delightedly.

---

Thank you for the amazing artwork! I had to write a little something for it<3

[narrators-journal]

Yandere Stano headcanons

Have some more dr. stone content! I was originally gonna separate all of this into, like, three different posts, but I decided to squash em all together to save you guys some time lmao. So, this might be a bit jumbled? But I hope it’s still fun to read! Also, yes, this is a dual-yandere premise, but I also threw in some stuff about them as separate yans. If you see me split this up to go further in-depth, <3

SEPARATE

As separate yandere, Xeno and Stan are already pretty nightmarish.

Stanley Snyder is a marine sniper, he’s physically very powerful, intimidating, and experienced with killing.

Xeno, meanwhile, is a sadistic mad scientist who may or may not have morals depending on the alignment of the stars and the day of the month.

Stan is very much the type of yandere to shoot your boyfriend/best friend in front of you to prove a point.

He is not a very kidnap-happy yandere. Stan’s more the type to just keep you in line with vibes.

Xeno, meanwhile, is the type of yandere who would kidnap you quickly and proceed to use you as a scientific guinea pig.

Those factors don’t change, no matter the context of the yandere.

Platonic, Romantic, neither cares. Stan will still kill people in front of you to prove a point, Xeno will still experiment on you.

Stanley, on his own, isn’t a very forceful yandere? I dunno how to phrase it, but he doesn’t yell, he doesn’t argue. The bulk of what gets his darling to obey is his intimidation factor and simple threat. When he tells darling to do something, it usually has the weight to ensure you do it.

He’s a little cold, but he’s also very capable of giving affection and love to his darling.

Xeno, on the other hand, is fucking cruel.

He’s strict, experiments on his darling, would degrade them, and is very prone to getting so into work that he barely acknowledges his darling’s existence, let alone gives them affection.

Don’t think that being separate makes them easier though! Xeno will drug a darling easily, and while they might not share a darling, both will help the other keep their own.

They are mutual enablers in that sense. That’s the risk of childhood friend types being yandere. Though, admittedly, the biggest threat would be Xeno.

AKA, Stanley snyder’s darling has the worse chance of escape, because Stanley might take pity and let Xeno’s darling go. Xeno would not, and would in fact give his best friend a slew of drugs to keep you under control.

TOGETHER

If Stan and Xeno are nightmarish separately, they are a whole new level of fear when put together.

Stan’s experienced in sneaking around and tracking people, so he’d definitely be the one sent to observe and report back to Xeno about you.

He’s also the one who can best read people. Not because he’s some master of socialization like Gen is, but because he simply has more experience with how people behave, react, and feel than Xeno does.

Xeno, meanwhile, is something of the yandere mastermind. He’d be the one to single you out as ‘special’ and lock onto you as their ‘darling.’

Granted, if Stan doesn’t want you, they wouldn’t go after you. Xeno can convince his best friend of a lot, but Stan also knows damned well that Xeno wouldn’t hurt him. So, if he doesn’t want to do shit, he’s not gonna do shit.

That being said, Xeno is definitely the aggressor. Between them

He’s cruel as hell, backhanding, spitting at you, insulting you, he’s the type to do that.

Which, you’d think means him and Stan wouldn’t get along. Stanley’s scary, but he’s not the type to jump to harming his darling. But, his best friend is the opposite. Xeno over-compensates for the fact that he’s not as scary as Stan by being a shit ton meaner and quick to harm.

Yet, they’re the opposite. Their contrast makes them work better.

Stanley’s more level head keeps Xeno’s crueler tendencies in line, he helps his friend see the holes in his plans with his knowledge of people and the calmer thought process Stan brings to the table.

In exchange, Xeno’s more cunning and book smart. What Stanley lacks in terminology and study, Xeno makes up for.

AKA, Stan knows how to break the bone, Xeno knows exactly where to ensure your artery isn’t nicked.

When together, Stanley is effectively Xeno’s enforcer. He’s the muscle.

Xeno, meanwhile, is the commandant. He aims Stanley and gives him the step-by-step instruction on who to harm and how.

So, together? Stano makes one hellish pair of yanderes.

[h-didanart]

I saw the confession blog ask, and I am kindly asking for the kitty moons

Oh yeah, that

Ahem, the creator of “Bloodmoon RETIRED?! In VRChat” (I forgot to make a fake thumbnail for that) brings you a new exciting episode! (Whose thumbnail I also forgot)

Bloodmoon TURNS INTO A CAT?! In VRChat

Expect to see this written out at some point in the future, there will be fluff, Solbro behavior, Sun getting a sliver of revenge on the twins because let’s be honest they aren’t the greatest people, more fluff, and maybe, just maybe, if the stars align and all the components come together, pet regression

And now imma ramble about their design ok—

They needed to have long hair, I can’t explain why, they just had to. So I looked up long haired fluffy cats, there were Ragdolls and Persians and Maine Coons but the one I went with was Turkish Angora. They are athletic, they are agile, have long hair, and despite being known for their white coats come in various different coat colors.

Bloodmoon specifically has a mostly black coat with bits of red over their face and legs and tail, with a white snout and belly. Their hair is matted on some places and their whiskers are bent oddly. They struggle a bit to walk and hate the feeling of the tangles. Overall these translations indicate the twins aren’t really in good shape. Oh yeah, they have prosthetics too, the repairs had to be translated somehow, so they’re a double amputee cat. And I’m thinking of making their left eye a prosthetic as well or just not having them have it. Do cats get glass eyes? I don’t think they do… Either way, Harvest likes these legs way more than what they have in their actual body.

In regards of cat behavior, they are very much a feral cat, untrusting of people, defensive, the like.

They exclusively only meow at Solar and let him pet them and carry them and stuff because, y’know, trust. Granted they do spend some time during their transformation mad at him because they think he caused this somehow— which he actually didn’t —but end up kinda just accepting it and rolling with it.

Speaking of their time spent, let’s talk about how this plays out!

So Bloodmoon’s in the Daycare helping Solar do stuff, they take a detour through the ball pit to avoid passing through the area separating the play structures, then boom, portal malfunction, they’re a cat now. Solar immediately runs to see if they’re ok, and ends up almost dying of laughter at seeing them like a cat, they struggle to get out of the ball pit and Solar picks them up, still laughing.

Due to the laughter the twins believe Solar to have caused this but unfortunately can’t ask or communicate that thought at the moment, they cannot speak as a cat. They grumpily lay on Sol’s arms as he carries them to the front desk. Solar tries to figure out how long they’ll stay like that, having gone through this with the whole family already, all the while Bloodmoon tries to get adjusted to their new body, kinda freaking out upon realizing they had leg prosthetics but quickly getting used to them, the fact Harvest doesn’t feel like shit when looking at the legs definitely helping that.

After a bit Solar turns to the twins and tells them that apparently they’ll stay like that for a few hours, at which point Bloodmoon realizes that Solar probably didn’t play a prank on them, they hop off the desk and start circling Solar, wanting to go do something, before being abruptly cut off by Sun entering the Daycare and accidentally hitting them with the door.

Sun immediately starts apologizing to the cute little kitty and trying to soothe them, the twins start hissing and backing away the second they regain their bearings. Solar picks them up, quickly explaining that the cute little kitty was actually Bloodmoon. Sun grimaces at that before tilting his head and finding amusement in their predicament. The twins hiss at him.

Despite not getting along at all Sun does start to fuzz over Bloodmoon, seeing their matted hair and bent whiskers, and offers to help Solar care for them. Solar looks down at the twins who give him a ‘for the love of god do not leave us alone with this guy’ look, and asks if maybe Sun could just tell him what to do.

Cue Sun helping Solar brush the twin’s hair, getting them some cat food, and taking a bunch of blackmail material pictures. By the time Sun leaves he finds he actually kinda enjoyed being around Bloodmoon. To quote him directly: “I see how you got attached to them now”

And then Bloodmoon would hang around Solar in the Theatre, watching as he restocked the shelves and greeted people and the like. By the end of Solar’s shift, the twins are curled up on his lap getting pet as they start falling asleep.

And it is then that they turn back to normal.

Solar is startled by the sudden shift but overall glad that the twins were back to how they were. He nudges them awake, trying to tell them that they were normal again. They kinda just sleepily look up at him before nuzzling against his chest and curling up once more. They’re still purring. Sol tries to shake them awake again but is once again startled, only now by a small meow from the smaller bot. And so he sits there for who knows how long

Turns out Bloody and Harvest like being cats.

Who would’ve thunk it?

[klausysworld]

So my idea if you accept it for a request is klaus x demigod daughter of Hecate reader and how it would be? Ps like the maybe the ready hate Elena and her friends and when they tried to kill klaus she beat them up and he’s totally taken by her?

I love everything about you.

Being the daughter of Hecate i was deeply respected by the supernatural community. I could pretty much take everyone out with the flick of my wrist so they liked to tread carefully.

These fucking mystic falls cockroaches however seemed to think they could do as they please when they please with no consequences. Elena the doppelgänger seemed to have some sort of invisible leash on everyone in that town, she had two vampire brothers tripping over each other for her, a blonde vampire who was at her beck and call and a Bennett witch who deemed herself ‘invincible’. Honestly, what in the underworld is going on here.

Let’s just say it was a breath of fresh air when the Mikaelsons came up, finally some people who weren’t ogling Elena. I knew who they were already of course, besides my mother was the one to grant Esther the power to create them. My mother’s most sacred animal is the dog, black dogs especially for some reason and so it only made me take a further interest when i witness Niklaus transform into a midnight black wolf. I followed him the whole two days he was a wolf, due to interest yes and also to make sure nothing happened to him, he could protect himself i know but still having a demigoddess watching over you is still an extra safety net.

He looked directly at me a few times but each attempt he made to near me was stopped when i would dissolve into a cloud of mist. His head would tilt and his ears would lay flaw against his head as he reluctantly walked away.

The next time i saw him was when he was in the smokey mountains, poor thing was trying to create more of himself, he just wasn’t seeing the correct picture to follow. I slowly approached him when he sat on a log, head in his hands and bodies piled around him as he waited for Stefan to arrive with a dead Ray. I sat next to him silently and gently rubbed his back, he tensed completely as her glanced up at me, confusion clear in his expression as he whispered a quiet “it’s you”

Not even a second later Stefan arrived and made myself vanish again. It was fun to watch how frustrated he became. I stuck around and went to Chicago but then i had to leave because Gloria started freaking out. She was all “you’ve brought a type of darkness with you” it was weird but like okay?

She couldn’t see me but she started chanting stuff and my mother told me to leave her be so i did.

Mystic falls was boring and Elena was a whiney about Stefan while also trying to fuck his brother, Caroline was always with Tyler and Bonnie was comforting Elena. Jeremy was alright, we spoke sometimes and he always served me at the grill, Matt does not like me one bit and i do not mind that at all.

Eventually Klaus came back and i wasn’t exactly expecting it. He had walked right into me or i walked into him but anyway i got mad cuz i spilt my drink on myself and thought it was gonna be like Damon or something so i started yelling

“can people in this town not look where they’re going for five fucking minutes!? honestly you would think a vampire would have a better sense of direction but noooo” i was wiping at my shirt aggressively until i realised the coffee wasn’t going to come out. I glared back up at the supernatural being to find those beautiful arctic blue eyes. His pretty pink lips were parted in an almost gaping way as he stared at me wide eyed. I felt my anger melt away as i studied the shock within his face.

“i’m… sorry…i wasn’t looking, i was upset about something… and was in a rush” he spoke slow and sounded uncertain

“oh, right well i shouldn’t have yelled. Come on, i need to put on a clean shirt and you can tell me about your problems” now yes i could have probably just made a new shirt appear on my but i didn’t fancy missing the opportunity to bring Niklaus along with me. He reluctantly began telling me that the little gang had brought Mikael to town, tried to kill him and then Stefan stole his family in coffins.

I invited him inside, much to his surprise, and started the kettle. I didn’t bother asking him to turn around when i changed my clothes and didn’t comment on his reddened cheeks as he swallowed thickly.

He stayed for dinner in the end and i managed to dodge any and all questions he tried to ask about who i was or how i knew who he was.

I drove him to the hotel he was staying at while his mansion was being built and even went as far to come inside and see how fancy it was. Let me just tell you it was nice. Real rich people shit.

I said goodnight but just as i was walking out the door his hand was around my wrist making me turn back to him

“yes?” i asked

“i don’t even know your name” he stated or asked?

“maybe next time Niklaus” i whispered before disappearing before him.

From that day i actually saw him quite a bit. Sometimes he even came round for food, he was at my door far more often than i had expected and never brought any threats with him, which was odd as in my experience when someone didn’t know what i was they were very demanding and liked to try and kill me.

I managed to help him get the majority of his family back, his brother Elijah was woken up and he then as a result woke the rest of his family. That night Niklaus stayed at my house…in my bed next to me. He had been sat on my doorstep when i got home with tear stains on his soft skin

“my siblings all hate me and my mother is alive” was all he whispered. I simply opened the door and lead him upstairs to my bed so he could lay down, I got ready for bed and got in with him, now i swear that we fell asleep on opposite sides but somehow we woke up with our legs tangled together, his forehead resting on my shoulder and my fingers in his hair.

He went home after breakfast however returning very soon after with a nervous smile and a box. He handed it to me quickly before vamp speeding away making me laugh at his actions.

The box held a gorgeous dress and an invitation to a ball… as his date.

I made sure to consult with my mother, she said that it was a great idea and he would be great for me, that was the last push i needed to know that i should be with him.

Once i arrived he was already in-front of me, pulling me through the crowd to introduce me to his brother Elijah and his sister Rebekah, he wasn’t sure where Kol and Finn were. They seemed thoroughly amused at his eagerness as they looked me over a few times

“you must be the girl he won’t stop blabbing about, at least he was telling the truth, you are remarkably beautiful, i think you’ll do just fine, come we can judge the other peoples outfits” Rebekah already tool my hand dragging me away from Nik and Elijah.

That night i was told many embarrassing stories of Niklaus, i was threatened by Rebekah not to harm him, Finn gave me some dodgey looked and Kol stared at me in utter astonishment. It was an interesting evening.

I got to dance with Niklaus though, he held me close and spoke quietly into my ear, the moment seemed so intimate. I felt safe and warm with him, his arms around my felt like they were protecting me despite my immortal status.

I ended up staying the night with him as well. There was moment where he seemed as though he was about to kiss me but he backed away and decided to show me art room instead. He was unbelievably talented and i made sure to express how impressed i was which he seemed to immensely appreciate and blushed ferociously at. I told him he was cute but apparently that offended him as he then chased me around the house until he tickled me near to death while i thrashed about on his bed. Eventually we fell asleep after many meaningless conversations that somehow brought us closer though i began to feel bad that i wasn’t sharing much about my past or what i was.

The next day i went home early as i needed to consult with my mother and the other gods/goddesses to see if they would allow me to tell him who i was. Once they agreed i went to the grill to find him. However before i could get to him i heard Damon, Stefan, Matt and Caroline all whispering in the alleyway outside

“Caroline you go in and try distract Klaus, he’s bound to go for you. Then Rick will dagger Klaus and we can grab Klaus”

i sat and waited for Niklaus to follow the blonde outside, i could sense his wariness as he suspiciously eyed the girl.

The second he brought his hand up to his chest as a sign of pain, Damon, Stefan and Caroline were all grabbing him trying to get him on the floor. I felt a rush of power as i flung them all in different directions, they sped back quickly trying to throw me at the alley wall. I got up unscratched and snapped Carolines neck with a snap of my fingers. Damon went straight to my neck and buried his teeth in, Klaus’s cry of agony had me ripping the vampire off me and creating a stake in my hand to impale him with before spinning round to find Stefan with a terrified look on his face and a semi conscious Klaus.

Suddenly Elijah was stood there with a grey looking Kol and was threatening them by sending Rebekah to murder Elena. I wasn’t paying much attention as i quickly checked for any damage to Niklaus. His eyes were wide and he seemed incredibly shocked but other than that he was fine. I pulled him up to stand on his feet before wrapping my arms around him and kissing his cheek

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have left you this morning, i shouldn’t have let them touch you” i muttered to him and he didn’t hesitate in hugging me back. I slowly pulled away and turned to his brothers, Elijah was clearly surprised as he glanced at the temporarily dead vampires and then back at me. Kol was practically buzzing where he stood

“I can not believe you are real! oh god can i have a hug to!?” I raised both my eyebrows and he threw himself at me and engulfed me into a hug, much to Klaus’s dismay as he growled and shoved his brother off

“what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing!?” he yelled as he pulled me behind him

“you don’t know who she is?? I mean seriously??” he whispered loudly

“She’s like a goddess” he muttered

“Demi-goddess but whatever” i added

“what?” both Elijah and Klaus questioned

“Hecate, you know like the actual goddess of like magic, witchcraft, the night, light, ghosts, necromancy… and the moon! She’s like real powerful, anyways that’s her daughter” he pointed to me with a wide grin and i let out a laugh at the astonishment everyone was expressing

“you know this is fun but maybe we should focus on the psychopathic mother of yours?”

“right… we can return to this at a later date” Elijah mumbled with a scratch if his head before dragging an excited Kol along with him

I turned back to Nik with a guilty expression

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you… there are certain rules about telling beings from other realms our secrets and i needed to ask for permission. That’s actually why i left this morning, i asked and i was allowed to tell you…i understand if it’s a lot though, of course-“ I was cut off by the feeling of soft lips on mine, effectively shutting me up as i melted against him. Our lips moved together perfectly and it was as though something had shifted in the world, this was the person for me.

“believe me my love, this is just one more thing that i love about you” he whispered while breathing heavily

“i love everything about you” i replied quietly and he blushed once more as he smiled bashfully