#i am always blown away at how much he is constantly taking on

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Julian Blackthorn’s constant awareness of his siblings is both so heartwarming and so heartbreaking to read

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞♡𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 🔞

Who said every omega needs an alpha?

Tags/Warnings: Omega!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Omega!Jimin, Mentioned Alpha!Yoongi, Stereotypes, Friends to lovers, Major Fluff, Romance, Slight angst, injury, brief hospital visit, smut, oral (f. Receiving), smut, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex, knotting, biting

Length: ~5k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Boo.

-> Masterlist

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Jeon Jungkook.

He's a good looking guy, above average in almost everything he does, and easy to like. Conversations flow easily around him and friendships blossom left and right- almost everyone knows and likes him. It's hard not to, really; as an Omega, he's naturally passionate and caring, a gentle guy that enjoys making others happy.

You met him at a friend's birthday party, the young wf having noticed you standing mostly all by yourself without really conversing with anyone. He'd been kind enough to introduce himself, stay with you, and keep you there for much longer than you usually stay at gatherings like these.

And right now, he's standing in front of you, smile still on his lips and hands tucked away in his jacket pockets while he sways front and back on his heels after having told you he's interested in you.

Romantically.

"There's a.. You said you collect those stuffed animals, squishmallows, right? There's a new store that sells the really huge ones. We could stop by that store tomorrow, if you'd like." he offers, curious eyes watching you with a glimmer that's just.. Jungkook.

Jungkook is new. Different. He's nothing you'd expect, always doing something you'd never be able to guess- and ut makes spending time with him hoth exciting and a little stressful at times.

His eyes always seem to sparkle when he smiles. It's honestly unfair, how they always put you under their spell with their boba-pearl charm. How can you say no?

How can anyone ever tell him no?

"I.. Okay wait. You.. And me?" you wonder, and he nods, smile turning into a grin that makes his lower eyelids raise. "But I'm not, uh… Are you sure?" you wonder, and he becomes surprised at that it seems.

"I am. I wouldn't have asked you out like this if I wasn't." he says, still swaying a little.

He's always been like this. Never staying still. Always up to something. Constantly moving. Like his body is constantly generating excess energy he can't seem to burn. Like the energizer bunny.

"what makes you think I'm joking?" he asks, and you look down, rather watching the tips of his shoes than his gaze any longer.

You can't stand his gaze. You're gonna melt into a puddle if you look at him any longer.

"I'm just.. Me. And you're you. Shouldn't you want someone more.. Opposite of you, rather than the same?" you ask carefully and it seems that it clicks for him in that moment.

It's technically common sense- alphas get with omegas, omegas with alphas. That's how it goes- or so one might think.

But Jungkook isn't any wolf. He's not ordinary in anything he does- so it's unsurprising that his sub-gender also isn't what one might expect.

"Ah~." he hums mostly to himself, before shaking his hair out of his eyes after the wind had blown it over his face, fingers pulling the strands from his piercings decorating his bottom lip. "Stereotypes. You're talking about me being an omega and all that, right?" he wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." you instinctively say. The regret of your words already starting to make you uneasy. Did you insult him now?

Male omegas tend to be very sensitive when it comes to this. Or maybe that's Stereotypes too?

"No problem, lots of people think that way." he shakes it off, taking a step towards you. "But, rather than explaining to you what is and isn't true about the stuff people say-" he starts, feigning innocence before he grins at you, holding your hands in his now, playfully, just by the tips of your fingers. "-how about I show you?" he asks, and you look back at him.

"huh?" you can only answer, and he sways again, tilting his head to the side a little, swinging your hands a bit.

"Go out with me." he bluntly suggests, grinning brightly. "And I'll show you."

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Wolf's sub-genders have been the topic of Novels and movies for a long time now.

The most popular trope being the alpha that falls in love with their omega, to live happily ever after. Some of your own favourite media actually includes this stereotype as well- and for a long time, in your head and in many others, this was the most ideal couple amongst wolves.

However, reality is more complex than that, and you're roughly reminded of that with the way Jungkook behaves.

While he does offer a lot of the general traits associated with being an omega, such as his big round eyes and constant need for physical contact, he also doesn't fit others at all. He's muscly, masculine body dressed comfortably in clothes made of soft materials, and his behavior, while gentle and soft in the way he acts, feels oddly confident and almost dominant to you.

He's sure in his walk. He knows his worth.

There's a hand on your back leading you without any force through the store, like a remote control, no need for actual strength.

There's that glimmer in his eyes every time you struggle and ask him for help with something, as if he's amused by the fact that he makes you nervous.

There's that look of victory in his face whenever you seem flustered by any of his words, Luke it's a game he keeps winning.

He's making your head spin.

You're both sitting on a blanket in a calm park- when he lays down, patting the spot next to you in an inviting manner. "Come here." he smiles, and you do so- easily cuddling up to him, surprising yourself even, considering you're not one that's this easy with physical contact like that. But Jungkook? He runs the inside of his wrist over your neck, bashful smile on his lips as he watches you, caring nature of his sub-gender showing in his actions.

"What're you doing?" you wonder, and he grins sheepishly, caught red handed.

"Scenting you." he says. "I- we technically do it differently as wolves but, I don't wanna seem pushy." he admits, and you nod. You know how it usually goes.

You remember your last alpha doing it, licking your neck instead, or biting. It made you anxious. Every bite could've been made to last, after all.

"…Thank you." you tell him due to that, the way he makes sure he's never too forceful making you feel at ease- and slightly guilty. "And sorry." You apologize because of this.

"for what?" Jungkook wonders. "I had a nice day, even better than I could've imagined. I'm feeling really happy right now." the young man explains, and it makes you a little jealous how easy it seems for him to voice out his emotions.

You're not that good at it. Maybe he can teach you?

"For judging." you explain, but he just scrunches up his nose before softly flicking a finger under your chin, teasing you.

"Don't worry. It's normal." he shrugs, before rolling onto his back, your head on his tattooed arm as you watch the clouds as well next to him. "Do you think.. We could try?" he wonders, and after a moment of thinking, you nod.

You know what he means by that. And you want to try as well.

And he swears, if he had a tail, it would be wagging like an excited puppy.

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Your first kiss happens rather Spontaneously.

It's unprepared, a little clumsy, happening in the kitchen after you'd placed a small bandaid over the cut Jungkook had accidentally given himself while helping you cook. Seeing you tend to such a minor wound so carefully just set something off inside him- and he couldn't help himself.

And after the initial shock of it all, kisses seem to be a constant around Jungkook.

As soon as you meet up, there's a quick peck as a greeting, lips barely properly touching, but enough to make the gesture of affection count.

Small kisses on your cheek whenever he's close enough, just to see you turn red, shyness of you just too precious to look away from.

And most importantly? The way he scents you changed.

While pretty tame at first, the entire act of scenting you has become somewhat heated these days- just like now, as he runs his lips over the crook of your neck, back and forth, hands almost sensually running over your body, clothes suddenly feeling itchy.

He never crosses boundaries, never bites where you don't want to, never pushes himself past your limits just because it's easy to do. He's gentle, caring, offers you just what you need in the right amount, easing you into the waters that's his love.

And it makes you brave. It makes you want more.

Your own limbs seem to want him closer as well, your mind slowly becoming more and more trusting towards him, as he builds up the affection every time you spend time with one another.

It started just with cuddling on the couch while watching a movie. Then, the kisses got added to the mix- shy at first, his confidence with you slowly building up towards the point of where you are today; Heated, bodies warm and needy as his hand travels underneath your soft fleece shirt, fingertips carefully meeting the underline of your chest. "Still okay?" He asks, lowly so as if worried he might pop the little bubble you're both in and wake you up from the trance of emotions, but you simply nod, smiling, happy.

And as an omega, he feeds off of your emotions; he thrives in the fact that you're giving yourself into his arms so freely and comfortable, no worries in your scent whatsoever in his presence.

He shamelessly purrs at the way you kiss his collarbone, lips pressing over a tiny little beauty mark he has in that area, making him shiver in pleasure. You've not talked about going all the way yet- and right now, he's not trying to get into your pants at all. You're so attentive to him, offering such kind affection, that its enough for now. He can't deny however that your scent is driving him crazy- making him hungry for even more intimacy than he's receiving already.

He's needy. Craving.

"Can I eat you out?" He asks breathlessly so, and your eyes widen before your cheeks grow a bit red. "You don't have to say yes." He adds at the sight of your shyness, but you just shrug in response.

"I don't know what it feels like.." You start, before you look up at him, and he feels himself feeling upset. How come you've never experienced that? You're so sweet, you should've been able to explore your most carnal desires with someone you trust. "..but I trust you." You say, and his body erupts into happiness.

You trust him.

You trust him.

It washes over him like the hot stream of water in the shower after a long day, making him nod eagerly as he kisses you first and foremost. Jungkook is pretty orally focused, you've noticed; playfully nipping your skin here and there, kissing you randomly, or just running his sensitive lips over the soft skin of the back of your hand, feeling your skin with his mouth and hot breath. So it's not a surprise when he doesn't mind kissing you a bit more chaotically, open mouthed and tongue exploring your mouth with confidence.

He loves you, after all- and he can see, feel, that you're falling for him too.

He makes it all feel so natural that you can't help but giggle at the feeling of his kisses down your bare stomach; dress pushed up by his hands, a grin showing when he notices your reaction to his antics. He feels as if he's high- never having had the opportunity to be in a situation as easy and simple as this; both of you just existing, no words needing to be shared, no roles defined, no goal in mind other than making the other just as happy as yourself.

It's an odd feeling at first, but simply the sight of him so immersed in the act makes it feel ten times more erotic to you than you thought it might. Your breathing is deep, occasional sighs escaping you, soft voice chanting out his name like a mantra to keep you sane; and he starts to feel drunk off of it, teasing licks turning into more determined motions, tongue flat on your most sensitive area, the feeling odd but not unpleasant. All that fills your head is simply your approaching high, not in the slightest feeling like anything you could've done to yourself.

How will it be when you're both in heat?

You've known each other for months now, after all. Your cycle has synced up by now, you've noticed last time he'd taken time away to himself.

Your back arches as you roll your hips closer to him, lost in the ecstasy while his hands hold a firm grip on your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, before he let's go of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling back up to lay down next to you with an impish smile on his red lips. "Hey." He jokingly greets you after you've opened your eyes again, noticing how he's moved your dress back down again as to not have you get cold.

Jungkook lays there with a smile, and you feel funny in his presence like this. You've never had anybody talk to you or treat you like he does ever before- you're used to either being told exactly what to do, or to be scolded for what you're doing or have done- so him talking to you like you're something special makes you a little confused on how to act.

And it makes you scared, because up until now, you've ruined everything good.

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"So have you, you know? Repaid the favor?" Jimin asks, eating his sandwich in front of you while you suddenly turn pale. "Oh." He just humms, while you let your face fall into your hands.

"Oh god, I'm such a nasty bitch, really.." You groan, eyes stinging already at the thought of Jungkook having expected you to get him off as well, just to get nothing in return but a stupid cuddle. The shame washes over you like waves on a stormy day, clashing against your bones with anger that swells up in your chest. You're upset at yourself now, appetite having vanished, and now you're even madder at yourself because Jimin had literally paid for that little piece of cake you'd chosen to eat here, and now you can't even enjoy it anymore.

Hormones are a gorrible thing, especially for omegas. And the stress you have these days just really fucked you over, causing you to drop into a new mental low.

"Hey, no-" Jimin says, wiping his mouth with a napkin before a hand reaches out to touch your arm. "-I'm sure he would've said something if he'd expected anything." He says, making you look at him with glossy eyes.

"Great, so you're saying he doesn't want me like that, thanks." You say roughly, and Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Oh god I'm sorry, now I'm all moody and-"

"Everything alright?" Jungkook's voice rings out next to you, as he stands close to your chair now, having spotted you in the small cafe with Jimin while passing by on his way home from work. "Hey, what happened?" He coos worriedly, bending down a little to get a better look at you who's hiding your face in your hands, humiliated about crying in a public setting like this, while Jungkook tries to assess the problem- your scent making him anxious too, but in a different way.

You're his partner. And his instincts tell him to offer you comfort, make you feel better.

You've always been overly emotional like this, but its worse now than ever. Jimin said that it's probably from being raised so roughly by your more than strict parents- after all, he remembers the times he had to make up stories just so you would be allowed to stay over at his family home, or for you to attend school trips. He's put himself into the line of fire constantly just to hang out as a friend with you- your mother hating him growing up for being a 'bad influence', and your father even threatening him with violence after Jimin had cut your hair for you, having grown tired of you being unable to express yourself even in the slightest at the age of 15. You remember how Jimin had grinned to you the next day, after everyone at school genuinely complimented you for your new appearance.

However, years after and now both of you working adults, you still have the habit of breaking down crying at the sight of the slightest thing going south in your life. But Jimin simply smiles watching Jungkook squatting next to your seat, carefully wiping your cheeks and eyes concentrated as he listens in on your hiccups interrupting your words to him, none of it very coherent.

But he manages to understand.

"Baby, it's totally fine, I don't hate you." He chuckles, pulling a chair from an empty table close by to sit next to you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you both, by the way." Jungkook laughs, reaching out to shake Jimin's hand. "Jungkook, nice to meet you."

"Jimin. She's been talking non-stop about you." He teases, making you pout while drying your eyes with a napkin, earning a snort from Jungkook who just can't help but find your glare cute.

At the end of the day, you're happy to see your best friend and boyfriend get along so well- both making sure you know you didn't do anything wrong- and that it's totally fine to cry.

Jimin making sure to underline that no one even noticed at all.

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"I'm sorry sir, but I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone with her at all." Jungkook says, and it's all a face-off you never hoped you'd have to witness.

Your father had arrived unannounced to apparently bring something over your mother had sent- but you know he just does it to tell you how 'messy' your apartment is, and how you don't have your life under control. You don't know why exactly he does it- any parent would be happy to see their child earn a living from a job they genuinely enjoy; your art selling for high prices, well known celebrities decorating their homes with your works. Jimin had always said that your father is simply jealous- but you can't help but feel small under your parent's strong gaze and harsh words, Alpha father too intimidating to resist bowing to.

And now? Right now your father had told Jungkook to leave, and to yours (and probably your father's too) surprise, Jungkook had declined.

An omega, refusing an alpha's command.

"I'm sorry too, dog, but It's not up to you to decide that." Your father responds, and you worriedly look between the two men, when Jungkook speaks up yet again.

"You're right, it's up to her." Jungkook says. "It's her apartment after all." He says, turning a bit to look at you. You quietly nod, giving him the sign that yes, you want this man out, but you can't bring yourself to say it. It makes Jungkook feel protective of you in this situation, no mate able to stay calm at the prospect of their partner feeling in danger of anything in their presence. "Please leave, or I will call police." Jungkook says, and your father scoffs.

"I'll give you a nice black eye before they get here then, how about it?" He threatens, and while you step in front of Jungkook in a moment of thoughtlessness and reckless protection, you end up receiving the punch right into the side of your head, knocking you to the ground.

"No!" Jungkook barks out, rushing down to your level to check up on you- before spotting your father looking down at the scene with horror.

"I didn't mean to-" He almost whispers, before he takes a shuddering breath, leaving the apartment and you two alone.

You feel dizzy, headache already starting while your hearing sounds like cotton wool had been stuffed into it. It's distant, almost non-existent, and you can only hear Jungkook with your unaffected side. "What's wrong, baby, talk to me.!" he urges, and you sit up a bit straighter, noticing an odd feeling in your ear that makes you run your finger over the opening of your ear canal. When you move it away to reveal red spots of blood, the omega wolf immediately rushes to get his car keys, rushing to the emergency room with you next to him.

An overnight stay, and thorough examination later, you're free to go again, Jungkook making sure to cover all the formalities for your release, while you wait in your room.

"I can't believe he fucking punched you. Oh my baby peanut.." Jimin jokes dramatically, though you know there's genuine anger directed at your father in his words. He's currently keeping you company, his job as a nurse coming in quite handy in times like this, before the door opens to reveal a smiling Jungkook.

"Alright, I've been given your antibiotics and papers, so we're good to go now." He informs you, making you nod, albeit a bit hesitant after being told not to move your head too violently.

"You're lucky there wasn't anything more serious." Jimin sighs.

"Her hearing will be back soon right?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin nods.

"A month or two, typically. The bruising will be down even quicker I imagine."

And Jungkook nods, keeping in mind to never let you get hurt again.

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True to his words, a few months later, there's no trace of your past injury any longer.

Now on a spontaneous camping trip Jungkook had surprised you with to help you get over your artists-block and give you some inspiration, you're both entangled inside the van he had rented out, the rain pattering harshly onto the roof of it. You're both unconcerned with the little thunderstorm outside however, rather occupied with each other as he finally uncovers all of your body for himself.

You'd thought it would all feel much weirder than it actually does, but it's Jungkook- every move he makes feels natural at his point, even if the territory you're both walking on right now is absolutely new to you.

The condom over his length makes it a bit easier for him to push himself inside you, your warmth welcoming him eagerly and making him struggle to compose himself. You're just so pretty in the dim orange light that shines inside the van from the front that he can't help himself, his instincts to breed you full of his cum pushing itself into the front of his mind. You'd look so good covered in his release- and you'd smell even better, he knows it already.

Maybe next time. Or next round? How long can you take it?

Right now he's gasping for air, your little whimpers making him feel more sensitive than he's ever felt before. Not even his own heat compares to this burning need he feels growing inside him, your hips rolling up into him, and he's a goner. A growl leaves his throat before he bites around your neck, movements becoming more frantic now in the heat of the moment, needing to claim you as his. "I love you." He hums into your neck, and you respond with your own confession, before his hand angles your leg a little better, his thrusts a lot more desperate at this point. The van is probably visibly shaking from the outside, force of his hips hard enough to fill the small interior of the sleeping area with the wet sound of skin against skin, and your sensual breaths.

You're whining for more, but for what exactly you're not sure of. But again, as if he can read your mind, he knows- hand reaching between you both to press and roll your clit between his fingers, making your core clench and thighs shake with your sudden orgasm, his hips never ceasing to move as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kiss him feverishly.

It gives him the final push to cum as well- though he's a bit disappointed it has to be inside the condom, and not you.

But, Again; maybe next time.

You're overly sensitive, noticing something odd happening, but he reassures you with licks and kisses to the bruised spot he'd bitten over and over on your neck while his arms hold you close. "Did you forget yet baby?" He chuckles amused, making you a bit shy considering the position you're now in.

Completely connected, his knot keeping him inside you at all costs.

"Kook?" You wonder when you notice the muscles in his thighs still trembling occasionally, hips pushing as close as he can get, breaths studdering, gasping. He's moaning quietly every time you involuntarily clench around his length still inside or move too much, and it's in that moment that you realize he's probably still in the midst of his orgasm.

Talk about drawn out.

It doesn't take long for him however to notice your rather impish acts, the way you seem to be very aware and in control of your actions- and much to your surprise, the moment he's able to slip out and discard the filled condom, he's back between your legs, thrown over his shoulders with a grin on his lips that spells trouble in bold.

"You didn't think I was done yet, did you?"

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"I'm a little worried though." Jimin says, sighing next to you while you reach into the bag of chips he's holding, TV show playing on the screen while you both spend a day together alone. "Yoongi is an alpha- what if I get on his nerves or something? Alphas are said to be quite moody.." He mumbles.

You giggle, adjusting the strap of your tank top that rests right over the permanent scar of Jungkook's forever bite.

"Don't worry Jiminie." You simply reassure him.

"That's all just stereotypes."

[justmeinadaze]

"The Haunting" by Set It Off...I heard this song and immediately thought it was Toxic Eddie coded 🥴🫠 can I request a little blurb based off it?! You're amazing and I am OBSSESED with your writing

Warnings: Toxic/Jealous Eddie🫠, mentions of following her

Sorry this took SO long. Enjoy!

Word Count: 654

Eddie chuckles as he continues to thrust his fingers slowly into your cunt in front of your full-length mirror on your bedroom floor. His legs over yours kept them open wide allowing you to be on full display as he nibbled your earlobe, constantly whispering things that had your naked body shuddering against his fully clothed form. 

“You thought you’d get away with going on a date with some muscle-bound jock? Thought I wouldn’t find out because you two went to a fucking football game?”

His fingers pushed deeper into you causing you to push against his chest with your back but his other arm across your stomach kept you in place.

“Thought I wouldn’t follow Miss Popularity and sit a couple rows above her to take note of every transgression she makes?”

“E-Eddie…please…”

“Thought I wouldn’t notice him place his hand on your thigh and you not pull away.”, he grumbles darkly as his own palm comes down to smack your inner thigh roughly. “That I wouldn’t follow you in the parking lot back to your car where you giggled at his stupid fucking jokes like a fucking dumb little schoolgirl!”

“I-I-I’m sorry.”

“But my absolute favorite part was watching him tilt down and put his sloppy, beer ridden lips on MY girl.”

“I’m not YOURS!”, you shout as you try to elbow him in his chest but he easily wrestles your arms back down to your sides as he clings to you tighter. “I’ll—mmph—never belong to you!”

Aggressively, he grips your jaw and forces your face forward as his fingers begin to move at a much faster pace overwhelming you as you moan at the feeling. 

“Is that why you fucking call me at 2am to come fuck you when you’re lonely? Or how about on the weekend when your parents leave you alone to go fuck their other partners. Huh, little girl?! I’ve loved you since the moment I listened to you speak in class. You obviously care about me to so why the fuck are you making this so complicated!?”

Your eyes began to flutter closed as the coil began to wind tighter and tighter but him firmly pinching your cheeks had you opening them again. 

“Don’t you dare close those eyes. I want you to see what I fucking do for you…why you beg for my cock all the time.” As he pumped his fingers at a blistering pace, your jaw went slack as he pressed his nose to the side of your face and began to whisper. “No one will ever make you feel this good. No one can touch you or treat you as well as I have, Y/N. No one will love you like I do and always fucking will. You’re mine. Say it.”

“Fuck—I’m…I’m…”

“Say it, sweetheart.”

“I’m yours.”

“Again.”

“Ahhh! I’m yours, Eddie.”

“That’s right. Cum on my fingers, pretty girl. That’s it. Good girl.”, he coos as you cling to his arm as your orgasm overwhelms you. While you try to catch your breath, his lips trail down to your neck. “I’m going to make sure you never forget that again, Y/N.”

Jumping up from the floor, Eddie easily lifts you like a ragdoll and tosses you onto your bed. You watch with lust blown eyes as he reaches for your phone and throws it beside you before unbuckling his belt to shimmy out of his jeans. 

“What do want me to—”

“Call him. Mr. Jock.”, he replies all to casually as he spits into his hand and strokes his cock a few times before gradually guiding himself into you. 

“Oh f-fuck. C-Can I call t-tomorrow?”

The metalhead laughs through his teeth as he places his palms on either side of your head and slowly thrusts his hips. 

“Aw, baby. I obviously can’t trust you. No…you’ll call him now and don’t worry. I can tell you what to say.”

##############

Donate to me/ Eddie Asks

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 9

RotTMNT x Reader

I am constantly blown away by this chapter art by @yamin-yups

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

This chapter contains reference to body dysmorphia. Remember that what you feel is completely valid, but we can sometimes see ourselves differently than we really are. Please keep yourselves safe.

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

“Maybe we take a break from going out into the packed public for once?” Mikey was upside-down, but compensated by holding his phone the opposite way. 

It put him right side up in the video chat, but the view was extra blurry. “Is that… okay?”

“I’m the one suggesting it!” Mikey stuck out his tongue, but his reflection seemed to confuse him on which way the appendage should go. “It’s been awhile. I haven’t been able to see you.”

“Yeah… well…” Though for you it would have been predictable, Mikey hadn’t felt the firsthand effects of your setbacks yet. 

Panic attacks always caused you to withdraw into yourself. 

You weren’t supposed to.

There were times when it was easy to keep going.

Others, such as now, left you homebound for as long as society allowed.

The push to normalcy now included your thoughtful friend.

“Do you know after my tremors went away, I spent months avoiding art because I was afraid of how it would look?” Mikey told you casually. 

You weren’t sure what he was talking about.

You tried to recall something about tremors, but came up short.

You wanted to ask more, but there was a more startling aspect than the content itself.

You couldn’t believe there was ever a period where Mikey avoided art as he had been nothing, but a loud proponent of all its merit.

“Why?”

“Because I knew my level and then… I didn’t. I knew I’d have to get back there. It was like riding a skateboard, but needing to take that time? For a second time. Chancing the bad result? It was like my healing was one thing and then by doing that it would show me just how much further I still needed to go. Like that dude with the cat and the box. I didn’t want to open it and find out. I couldn’t do it.”

“Isn’t the saying… something… about riding a bike?”

“We were skateboard tots!” Mikey rolled over and with it so did his camera, inverting the image.

You nodded lightly.

“I switched up crafts. Started new ones that weren’t so finger focused. Pour paints and candle work!” He made grabby hands at the lens as he fixed his phone angle.

“Something low key…” You hummed where you were sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, something quiet, calm, and… oh! Oh yeah!” There was another flip, but this one was out of excitement.

“D-don’t… bust through a wall…!”

Mikey appeared within a flurry of static. “Did you just make a Kool-Aid Man joke?”

“I make jokes!”

The wattage of his smile turned up to a blinding degree. “Well then I’ve got just the wall to bust through!”

-

“No.” Donnie glowered over his shoulder.

“Please!” Mikey bounced his plea with his head straight up to the ceiling of the garage you were currently in.

An oddity in the subway, but something you imagined had to exist based on logic, your eyes were openly roving around the tidy depot.

“Absolutely not.” Lifting out from under a hood and minding his head, Donnie craned an elbow to the engine block he was working on. “You know you’ve been banned.”

“One time!” Mikey groaned.

“No!” Donnie felt the need to rip off his leather work gloves to throw an unencumbered finger in Mikey’s face. “You were banned once after crashing eleven separate times!!”

“Eleven?!” You squeaked.

Mikey flipped back and forth between the two of you, obviously caught in who to address first. “My driving is fine!” He chose you and then flipped to Donnie. “I’ve changed!”

From the duffel that was slung around your body, you had already been clinging to the strap as it gave you something comforting to hold on to. With the new knowledge that you had almost been driven somewhere rural by someone with that kind of driving record, you now scooped up the entire sack to soothe yourself. 

“Forget that.” Donnie flicked his gaze to you. “You’d need a full crash suit to survive him.” He then folded his gloves into a pair and went to check his tool box.

You wilted further.

“We’re already packed!” Mikey rounded a new argument. “This is going to be our big, no-stress, relaxing getaway and you’re making it exactly not that!” 

“That’s unfortunate. The bus station isn’t far.” Donnie knelt down to get a wrench.

“And how’s that going to work!? We get dropped at some station and walk to the cabin!? You know it’s in the middle of nowhere!” Mikey stepped up to throw menace over his brother.

Donnie smelled it a mile away and lifted his head, pouring twice the malice. “Oh, you want to play?”

Mikey gulped and nodded his head once. “Let us borrow a car, the tank, a shell cycle, whatever! You’re being unfair!”

“Your planning is poor.” Donnie was slow to get on one knee. “You’re ill equipped.” To the other, he got a foot under him. “You’ve informed no one.” Rising to his towering height above his brother, he loomed. “You walk into my garage, where I am in the midst of my own personal and much needed zen in the form of refurbishing my newest baby and expect me to drop the keys of another into your hands knowing full well that you have destroyed more vehicles on more occasions than I can count on our joined mutant fingers and toes because you just so happened to suddenly decided that you needed to take a weekend trip with your friend of which whom you have a similar slapdash scheme going on with to go to our family’s cabin up north on a whim!?!”

Having watched Donnie not take a single breath, you backed up nearly the same distance that Mikey’s head had shrunk down into his shell.

“Y-yes?” Mikey peeped.

“No.” Donnie said the word firm and quiet, but punctuated it with a tap to Mikey’s plastron which caused the stiff turtle to fall over. “Now leave me to my work.”

Only a shell laying there, you leaned forward to look over Mikey without compromising your spot.

Donnie swung his wrench and moved over to a creeper with the intention to disappear under what looked like a turtle-themed moon buggy.

“You-” Your voice echoed in the garage and you tensed up.

Mikey’s head emerged from his shell to peek at you.

Donnie halted his motion, but didn’t turn.

“You… um… could… come with us?”

You watched Donnie’s lips wobble with disdain.

“N-Not a-as a d-driver! Y-you said…”

In a loud pop, all of Mikey’s limbs emerged. “That’s a great idea!!!”

In a smooth rotation, Donnie both turned and lifted his wrench with a threat.

Mikey crab walked several paces away.

“I’m disappointed.” Donnie sent a glare in your direction. “If your thought is even-” He caught a glimpse of his wrench. “-5/16ths as moronic as his then you are banned from the garage itself. Know that, would you still like to continue speaking?”

Gaze plummeting, your heart tried to escape and you screwed the whole of you shut to keep it inside.

Your entire body shook with the force of your nerves and you had to wait until your BPMs dropped to a manageable limit before you could manage speech. “You… said… m-much needed… so maybe… the trip would… well… be calming… for you too?”

There was a clink of metal hitting the ground.

Banned.

You were banned from the garage.

That was fine.

In theory, it wasn’t.

In theory, you were mortified.

Despite your best efforts, you had never been banned from anything.

Now you were.

A glaring dark spot on your permanent record.

Was Mikey a bad influence?

“You do say driving gets your mind off things…” Mikey said with a sudden supportive starkness.

You kept your gaze firmly rooted to the floor in shame.

“Also hold up!” In a slap of feet against concrete, Mikey righted himself. “You take a few of those things back, Don! I may have pushed the idea through, but it was not poorly planned or ill equipment or whatever you said! Y/N worked crazy hard on putting together everything in the short time frame I laid out!!”

You twitched.

“There’s maps, multiple trails marked, a calculated amount of water, with extra rations, flares… Like do you think this other bag is mine? Heck no! I’m not bringing anything! Both these bags are Y/N’s! They’re both stuffed with… stuff! Like-like!” You felt Mikey come over to you. “How you contacted the ranger’s station to tell them we’d be in the area? I’ve never even thought of that! We’ve never done that have we, Dee?”

Donnie continued his bout of silence that you didn’t dare look upon.

“What else…?” Mikey slapped his forehead. “I mean, come on! I can’t even remember it all!”

“I… got that satellite phone… you were pretty excited… about it.” You mumbled to the ground.

“With the backup batteries, Donald!” Mikey hummed a self-important sound. “The backup batteries!!”

The garage made it very clear that Donnie was walking over to you.

You bounced ever so slightly to garner the courage to meet his eye.

“Who did itinerary?” Donnie asked. 

“Me.” Mikey remarked casually.

“I assume food too?” Donnie’s voice was heavy with judgment. 

“Nope.” You could see a swoop as Mikey folded smug arms.

“That’s not quite…” You cleared your throat. “Mikey… shared his… favorite dishes that you… all make…when you… go.”

Donnie dipped into your eye line and you startled.

He’d bent at his waist and come down at a perfect angle.

You stared with warped lips.

“How long?” He narrowed his gaze.

“T-the trip?” Your gaze wobbled.

Mikey opened his mouth and Donnie threw out an arm that, by the sound, must have slapped the younger in the face.

“Yes.” Donnie kept his hand in place.

“Tonight… tomorrow… back Sunday?”

“Is that a question?” Donnie’s head tilted.

Mikey grunted, annoyed.

“No…” You got out, quiet.

“You agreed knowing full well you’d be alone with him?”

Slapped with a similar heat from the first time you’d realized that fact, you gave a tight nod.

‘We have separate rooms!’ Mikey mumbled through closed lips with surprising clarity.

“And that’s okay?” Donnie disappeared.

You chased him up to find he’d released Mikey and was waiting on him for an answer.

“It’s a no brainer.” Mikey nearly rolled his eyes. 

Donnie’s brow lowered, unsatisfied.

“Yes, it’s okay because it isn’t a thing.” Mikey huffed around his clarification.

“I suppose… I’ve been persuaded.” Donnie looked down thoughtfully and you watched him trace back to where he’d dropped his wrench.

Mikey jumped into the air with a sudden bout of energy and caught your hands to spin you.

“Y-y-yay!” You stutter, stalling on the rotation.

“Cabin, here we come, baby!” Mikey cheered. 

“I need my things!” Donnie barked. “And you.”

You jolted. “Y-yes?”

“You will send me triplicate copies of your plans.”

“S-sure…” You spastically patted yourself down for your phone.

“I refuse to engage with either of your antics.” Donnie’s own appeared in his hand. “I am no third wheel. I am coming because I will apparently have to deal with your whining otherwise and because I am not in the mood for the lecture from Nardo and Raphael when they return.”

“Have they texted yet?” Mikey peered over Donnie’s shoulder.

“No. Security detail means one must pay-” Donnie suddenly dropped and ducked through Mikey’s legs in one fluid movement. “-attention. This is why you weren’t requested.”

“And why didn’t they request you, hm?” Mikey pushed his lips into one corner of his mouth.

“Because…!” Donnie trailed off with widened eyes. “My talents lie elsewhere! Enough interruptions. I will drive and then you will leave me be! I am to have my zen! Is that understood?”

“Yeah, yeah, crystal.” Mikey finally did roll his eyes.

Donnie took a few steps away as you found your phone and held it unsure of how to send him the details.

“He’s totally going because he heard ‘yakiniku’ when you mentioned we were making my favorite foods.” Mikey walked over to you with a smirk.

You watched Donnie take an irritated pause before continuing on to get his things.  

-

The ride in the tank had passed with booming music and a tour from Mikey that you only visually participated in because you were terrified to move about the cabin. The younger seemed not to notice as he explained parts with stories more than function. Donnie alternatively, had shades on that further marred his calculated expression and he said nothing as the studious driver.

Leaving the city and entering scenic woodlands, you were soon left to admire the views until you eventually deviated off the road toward the cabin. Tracking it with the little local map you had found, you busied yourself in the comfortable way that most people disliked on road trips: silence in a cozy bubble all your making.

There didn’t have to be talk, that’s what road trip mixes were for.

You only made exceptions for car games. 

You liked that they had simple rules and there were little stakes to be had. 

You only wished cars were safer modes of transport.

There was also something to be said about environmental impact and the culture of automobiles in America, but other than that, you found them nice.

Pulling up to what you imagined was a quiescent place, Mikey could not be restrained a second longer.

Out of the tank in a flurry, you watched through the windshield as his form screamed straight up the cabin’s steps. “He doesn’t do great on car rides, huh?”

“Sitting still for too long? Michael?” Donnie rose from the captain’s chair.

You gave a small smile and gathered up the few things you’d taken inside with you. Your actual bags were stored in an outer compartment and Donnie waited for you as a safety net as you made the harrowing steps down the tank ladder and to the ground. Landing with little fault, you joined him in getting the luggage until Mikey tore back over to grab some of the load. He talked loudly of dust that had accumulated and Donnie griped at him that it was obvious they’d need to clean.

You fondly watched the two bicker and set-up became the next directive. Throwing back plastic sheets that coated furniture, Donnie had a multitude of inventions to clear the space quickly. You had to run to the windows to release the dust tornadoes formed. Making it out mostly unscathed, you then helped Mikey hang bug nets. With the late Spring weather warming the air, soon everything was prepped and Mikey did a little closing dance number, capping off the preparatory part of the trip.

“Swimming hole time!” Mikey cheered and then turned knowingly on Donnie. “Then BBQ and prompt lights out so I can make a lumberjack breakfast first thing!”

“We’re grinding beans… we roasted…” You offered softly. “Uh… Coffee… beans… that is…”

“Oh yeah, I forgot we took that class.” Mikey chuckled. “You almost fell into that sack!”

You squashed a noise of distress at the memory.

Understanding the schedule, Donnie dismissed himself with a turned foot and headed to one of the cabin’s many rooms. You were left to look about the quintessential log cabin where the huge living space and connected kitchen then butted up against a row of doors. They spoke of many rooms that traced the back of the cabin and then up a staircase to a second floor. From what you could see, there were about eight rooms in all. The entire cabin then had a wraparound porch that extended into the wilderness. It was land that both belonged to nature and not, but Mikey had been cagey about revealing property lines. 

“Welp!” Mikey folded his hands on his hips. “Your boy needs to get wet before he explodes.”

You gawked at him.

“Seriously!” He was looking out over the cabin with a vacant stare that held a sort of unhinged quality. “First the car, then stuck inside? This is not an inside trip. if I am not unleashed in the next, oh I don’t know… 2 minutes, I’m going to lose it!”

“Uh…!”

“You got those trail maps?” He turned, both looking through you and not at.

“Y-yes!”

“I color coded the one to the watering hole. Orange, obviously.” Mikey approached with a waggling brow ridge. “I saw you in the car, keeping perfect pace. It was awesome.”

“Just to s-stay b-busy!”

“Uh huh! Your smile said otherwise! You’ll meet me there then! Same way!” He patted your shoulder once with a whack before bolting out the door.

You stared after him now knowing why he’d chosen to travel in his swimsuit.

Looking down at your road trip ensemble, you still felt sure of your decision to take the few hour drive comfortably.

There was a noise of a door opening and Donatello emerged, changed into a casual outfit punctuated by purple swim trunks.

You stared at him and felt a little like a caught fawn.

Donnie took you in before his gaze dulled with understanding. “He ditched you.”

“I’m… going to meet him.”

“He always does this.” Donnie responded dismissively. “You should have seen him in time out as a tot.”

“Oh?”

“One minute in time out for him was comparative to thirty for the rest of us.” Walking around a large kitchen bar, Donnie studied the rations.

You took a few steps toward him for the sake of it.

“He’s so impatient.” Donnie murmured, poking several waters aside to find a carton of juice boxes that Mikey had insisted on. He quickly tossed the set into the fridge. “He’s not even an aquatic turtle.”

You sort of wished you had done more research past looking up pictures of their species.

“You’re losing daylight.” He emerged from the fridge. “Or are you not swimming?”

“I-I am…!” You squeezed a fist to your chest. “Are… you coming too?”

Donnie blinked slowly at you. “No, why?”

“Oh…” You shouldn’t have assumed. He’d already told you otherwise. “Sorry… your bottoms… I thought…”

“Board shorts.” He punctuated the words with an odd accent.

You gave an unsure nod.

“I’m glad their sign was translated.” He glanced down at himself.

“Sorry…” You murmured when he made no further movement and quickly left to avoid any awkwardness.

You weren’t sure what you expected.

It’s not like you wanted to exclude Donnie.

You knew that pain too well.

You also didn’t want to make him feel unwelcomed.

You were painfully aware of that too.

He hadn’t wanted to be a third wheel and you had made it a silent mission to keep that from happening.

Something else you’d experienced in the past, you’d been the unwilling chaperone on more than one occasion just to satisfy parent’s minds. The good one, in their minds, you had always been ditched and the feeling wasn’t one you cared for. Shoving past the bygone era, you were seen now and you tried to relish that.

The sun’s attention was a fickle thing, but you were getting more use to losing Mikey’s. Something you thought should scare you, instead you felt your friendship with Mikey was stronger than ever. You no longer feared losing him in the same intangible way and you weren’t sure if you should crop that up to Mikey’s feelings about you. Instead it felt as though you’d reached a better status quo where Mikey’s running off felt more like the sun moving on its predetermined rotation. It would eventually round back to you and in that way you expected Mikey’s claustrophobia even if you hadn’t known about it.

You picked a room at random and rummaged through the duffel that you placed on your bed. There was a woodsy smell that teetered on musty in a way that spoke of it being well lived in even if its occupants only came every so often. You had your own little stand up mirror, nightstand, dresser, and a closet though you doubted you’d use anything past the first. Pulling out a single slick piece of black fabric, you double checked the door was closed before changing.

The perfect swimsuit was one you hadn’t imagined you’d find. Not one for flashy things, you only wanted a muted cover that also happened to cover you. Water did unimaginable things to fabrics and you hated the way it clinged. You wanted something you could disappear in, that brought no unnecessary attention, and could be forgotten on your end. Finding it in a matter of minutes into shopping as opposed to the years it took when you were younger, the item had even been on sale.

Stepping into it and pulling it up, you shimmied into the fabric and turned for that same show stopping image you’d seen in the changing room.

What stared back was an image of allure.

No.

That was wrong.

That’s not what it had looked like.

It had covered you.

It hadn’t accentuated anything.

It was simple.

You squirmed, changing angles in hopes that it would get better, but each only revealed more.

What had changed?

You’d purchased it this week.

Were you hallucinating?

Was there something in the wooden walls?

Had the tank crashed and this was you playing out some morbid purgatory?

You pinched yourself.

A sting bit your forearm and you threw your gaze back at the mirror for the unwilling shapes it concocted.

This wasn’t right.

You wanted to swim.

There was no way you could.

Miserably turning away from your image, you rooted through your bag for a cover up. Finding one in some oversized t-shirt you’d brought for comfort, you held it and hated that this wasn’t the way you imagined it would be employed. You figured it’d be a back-up pajama top and not something to hide your shame away in. Clinging to the fabric, you hastily pulled it over your head with an imaginary clock ticking away because Mikey was waiting.

You were ruining everything.

Stumbling out into the living room, you found yourself alone.

Momentarily thrown, but shaking off how Donnie wasn’t a priority right now and the guilt that came with that, you went for your pile of maps. Finding the trail one with the orange lines, you gathered some shoes and careened down the porch.

Buzzing insects mocked your sloppy descent as you rotated the map to be on your course. Following it more than your way, you took the necessary inlet and folded its winds to a drawn T. Bushes and trees concealed you, but the splashing of what was beyond reached your ears faster than you’d hoped. A journey not long to its destination, you slowed as you came to the final bend. You could hear Mikey blabbing presumably to himself as he hooted before resounding sloushes followed. In your mind he jumped off some kind of ledge, you took a deep breath before making the final steps leading to the watering hole.

Somewhere quaint if you had the perspective for such a thing, a tree towered comfortably overtop a sizable pool. One mucked up from algae as the little stream feeding into it didn’t stir the water near enough, you watched roiling green as Mikey emerged with a flip of his wet hair.

“Y/N!” Mikey shouted happiness. “You made it! Come on in! The water’s fine!!” He swam backwards as if giving you room.

The guilt was staggering.

No, Mikey.

I won’t be swimming today.

My body looks like shit and I can’t stand it.

I’ll watch you though.

Have all the fun.

You deserve it.

Signing off your name, you slunk forward only to clip a sight of mixed purples.

Donnie craned his neck back to view you from beneath a large sun hat he’d put on. Sitting on a few rocks that made up the closest edge to you, his lids lowered in a way that said he was reading you like a book.

Hating how he did that, you squeezed the bulky hem of your shirt and walked up. “Uh… M-Mikey…?”

“A-yup!” He stopped splashing to hear you better.

“The… um… car ride… sort of took… more out of me than… I thought? Would it be alright if-!”

“You don’t have to swim.”

You blinked wide and over to him.

“If you don’t want to, don’t!” Mikey continued on. “Let’s compare: are you upset I’m swimming when you don’t want to?”

“O-of c-course not!”

“Then why should I care in the reverse?” He fell back and floated, eyes closed, on his shell.

That was right in a way.

Sweet in another.

You wished you’d put together the same reaction.

Inching closer, it felt like pouring water into an overtaxed bucket.

Another guilty drop in your damnation.

You’d seen your friend in a bad light.

Shirking all the more, you toed off your shoes and let your feet lay flat on one of the worn rocks. It put you near Donnie who’d become the moon on a sunny day’s backdrop. He shined upon the same stone and illuminated its age. The rocks were older and wiser than you’d ever be. They never worried about getting wet. They only knew how to exist, something you wished came as easily to you. Sitting down because you needed more of you to drink from the stone’s wisdom, you kept a lowered head to the water’s edge. It sloshed in a beckoning way and you imagined it too would feel good in a different way. 

You really had wanted to swim.

Imaging your tears would do little to fill up the pool while also overflowing it, you heard a tepid sigh beside you.

Eyes wide and shooting up across the pond, you then turned to where you’d sat down next to Donnie.

Someone who you mistakenly forgot about during your pity party.

How was that for a third wheel?

“It’s always something with you.” He spoke softly.

“Sure is.” You gave an awkward laugh.

“That’s…” He made a little concerned noise. “… I didn’t mean it in a cruel way.”

“You didn’t have to. It is.” You threw your legs off the rock and threatened to drown your toes in the water. “It’s a cruel fate. I’m…” You remembered yourself. “Sorry. Nothing. What are you doing here?”

“My species is aquatic.”

You snuck a glance. “You’re pretty dry then.”

“You are too.”

You frowned deeply and watched Mikey pick up a sun drunk grin as he spread his limbs out to float on. “I don’t know why I feel like this. Everything was fine before…”

“With what?”

“This…” You threw a hand over yourself. “Stupid ugly swimsuit.”

You could feel Donnie’s gaze linger.

“Just trust me.” You folded your legs against yourself.

 “I’m not sure I do.”

You squinted at the glistening water before looking at him.

“I barely know you.” He responded simply, waiting there.

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?”

“In what?” Your ugly side was leaking far beyond the reach of what your shirt could cover. “I didn’t think you trusted me. You may have been wrong about me being bad, but that wouldn’t make you less suspicious. So it’s not that. What’s left? The swimsuit sucks. It’s not like you wanna drool over it. I don’t want anyone too. I wanted to swim.”

Hearing your wish aloud, you pressed hard on your chest with your legs.

You could flatten out your entire form if only you were malleable.

“The water is opaque. I can alert Mikey and we’ll turn away so you can get in.”

You felt too far gone for solutions.

You weren’t worth the trouble.

Burying your chin into your knees, you stewed.

“You know how many times the others have made fun of my board shorts?”

You told yourself you didn’t care.

If that was the case then Donnie didn’t either. “Hundreds, though it might be my attitude when wearing them. I like the excuse. To have my day off and not worry about pleasantries. To not have to tailor myself to others. I can tell them to shove it. It’s my day off and how I look isn’t anyone’s damn business.”

Sounded like an odd hill to die on.

“Everyone should have those days.” Donnie craned his arms behind him and leaned back to soak up the rays he was in.

The tree overhead was clipping your light.

Donnie was free. 

Mikey was free. 

Head lifting a little, you pondered your friend.

He’d needed to get out and he did.

Now he was a vision, glowing amongst the pool.

In contrast there was you, wadded up and tossed away without even giving yourself the chance.

Another terrible reminder that this was the point.

This was what you were trying to avoid.

This was what you were trying to learn from.

Mikey didn’t even have to do anything to be himself.

He just was.

Instead of his usual bustle of light, he shined by matter of existence.

That was why you chased him. 

You wanted that. 

Staring at him until sun spots mucked up your vision, you turned the mass to Donnie.

Beside you in the same pose, he was more calculated.

He had to put on his wares.

His was an unseen struggle you hadn’t considered.

No one gleamed quite like Mikey.

That didn’t mean they didn’t shine in their own right.

Donnie’s darkened scales only threw prisms in a different way.

The cool moon’s glow.

Letting your legs fall, this time your feet drew to the allure of the water.

Just out of reach, you stared hard, making sure the pair would keep their eyes closed.

The both of them were still as if asleep, but you waited past whatever insect was chirping before you slowly tugged your hem out from under you. Emerging without more than the sound of rustling fabric, you rolled your shirt up around your waist. The next move was one harder to conceal, you threw a desperate glance at your friend.

Water rocked the resting Mikey like a babe and you wanted to feel that too.

You wanted to be nestled by the sun’s glow.

You wanted to feel weightless and have those burdens removed.

You yanked the shirt over your head and dropped it to your side.

Donnie stirred at the sound, but didn’t open his eyes.

“It’s… It’s okay… I’m not… okay… but I think I… I don’t want to care…”

He cracked a lid and stared skyward.

“It looked so different in the store.”

“How so?” He asked a whispy cloud.

“It looked… I don’t know… covering? Like it didn’t… show any bits. Like it… hid them away.”

He blinked slow and comfortable. “I’m a designer, you know.”

“What?”

“Genius Built Apparel. Where fashion meets function.”

You stared on.

Of course he was. 

He also built a tank and a legion of dusting robots. 

If this were any other family you’d think he was pulling your leg. 

You’d seen more than enough to believe. 

Most of your stare came from the cocky name. 

Though even that made sense. 

Donnie was a carefully constructed sphere. 

Who were you to take away his gloating? 

He tilted his head just enough to glimpse your face. “I’m serious. I’ve dissuaded Mikey from many a faux pas.”

You shook your head.

“May I?”

“What?” You switched to eyeing him.

“I can take a clinical eye. Examine stitching. Find your err.”

You bounced one of your legs.

You did want to know where it had all gone wrong.

You could theoretically fix it then.

Wash this all away in the water you so desperately wanted to get in.

“You won’t make it weird?”

“I don’t drool on the metaphorical clock; you were right about that, but I understand your concern. I have accosted you before.”

“Different kind of weird. That was mean weird. You were a jerk weird.”

Donnie chuffed and it rolled down his plastron.

You watched it fall into his lap before forcing your gaze back to his face in a rush. “Promise… Promise I can pull your hat down if you… do anything.”

“I won’t so a simple enough agreement. Sure.”

“Go… ahead…” You folded your arms to your sides, obviously nervous as you listened to his clothes move.

In a twist, he was examining you and he gave a faint hum.

Not wanting to see exactly how he saw you and growing miserable, you stared into the water.

You could throw yourself in and be done with it.

“Here.” He spoke.

You moved to the sound on instinct and found him pointing to your hip.

His eye was indeed one you imagined a tired scientist gave the samples he was cursed to study.

You immediately relaxed. “What?”

“This ruching here is meant to cover cellulite when the fabric gets wet. When dry it acts a similar concealment, but the way the strips are sewn are for the first purpose.”

“Oh…” You tilted your head to look.

“Thing is, it’s also leading lines.” He didn’t get any closer, but he mimed tracing the seams of the fabric that curled around your hip and beneath where you were sitting. “It’s meant to direct the gaze to certain assets.”

 You blew out an annoyed breath.

“Dressing room mirrors, where I imagine you first saw this, aren’t slapped on walls without thought. They're engineered with angles and lightning to make clothes look as flattering as possible.” He brought his eye to yours. “Where did you see yourself today?”

“There’s a… mirror in my room.”

Donnie’s lip twitched with distaste. “That floor length one?”

You nodded.

“Dad uses that one to feel tall.” He sneered openly. “It tilts up from below, the worst possible perspective.”

You blinked a few rapid times.

“It took the ruching and blew it up.”

“So it’s not… that bad?”

“It’s anything, it's tasteful!” He spoke with an irritation that said that should have been obvious. “It fits your body well. Does it have a certain allure? Yes, I’ve already spoken of assets, but it is not a piece that invites unnecessary solicitation.” 

“Assets, assets. What are you, an ass man?” You retorted automatically. 

“There is nothing quite like sinking your teeth into that soft, inviting flesh.” He took your response and held it between his teeth.

In a blink, you saw an imaginary Donatello around your hips pointing to the fabric and on contact with the thought your face exploded.

“I say generally speaking, of course.” He clicked his tongue as if scolding you and turned away toward the water.

Hot.

You were too hot.

Run.

Throwing yourself forward, you submerged as indelicately as possible into the water.

Sinking like a stone into the silence, your burning flesh was quickly soothed by a cold lap.

A sweet embrace, you kicked to the surface and emerged with a pathetic gasp.

Never graceful, you shook yourself free of clingy drops and spun back around to view the rocks.

Donnie was staring up at the sky again and you sort of hated him for it.

Swim.

You’d swim with Mikey.

Spinning around, the other turtle was not only longer floating, but you couldn’t locate him at all. Quickly worrying that you had toppled him in your dive, you swam forward. “Mikey?”

Quieting to listen, you didn’t hear anything past the faint roiling of the water against its container.

Thinking he must have dove, you looked down to find Donnie’s earlier comment to be a correct one. With the water murky to a fault and a new fear cropped up. You had no idea what was in the water and you immediately darted for the closest shore. Something several long feet from Donnie, it was a sort of marshy landing that rocks from below steeping up to meet. They were covered in a slime that clung to your feet and had you pausing until you heard an off-toned lap behind you.

You whirled around with wide eyes and found a sea monster waiting for you.

Something matted with algae, it groaned pathetically and you sucked in enough air until the balloon was full enough to scream.

“What!? Who?! Where?!” The creature splashed with Mikey’s voice.

He’d been captured by another mutant.

You turned to get out of the water with some intention of getting to the tank.

It had to have missiles or something.

Anything to help.

You’d take a bowling ball launcher at this point.

Catching grip with one foot, you hoisted up the other. The many rocks acted like a disjointed ladder and your entire torso emerged from the water before one of your feet slid. The moment it happened felt like you were falling out of time. In slow motion, you knew your face was one of surprise. You painted an open expression where the imminent terror that you were falling couldn’t catch up as neurons to save yourself from the action. 

Your mind knew, but your face didn’t know that you were going to crack your head open on the rocks you just slipped on.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N!”

Two voices.

Too far.

Something skewered your side as the first injury of many.

Hoping only to black out on that first step, you willed your possessions to your friends.

You didn’t bother hoping they would remember you. 

You only hoped that they could make some use out of your worldly imprint.

No matter how small it was. 

Water rushed to greet you and shoved you away. 

That wasn’t right. 

That was the wrong direction.

Water swayed like waves. 

The equal and opposite reaction wouldn’t come until you fell in. 

Why had it preemptively come for you?

Your arms dangled heavily from gravity and you forced your eyes from wherever they had gone.

The monster was right in front of you. 

Its face was one of Michelangelo.

Green sludge caught in his blackened locks and his worried expression peered out from between a small part. 

He had you by the waist and was holding you up in the air. “Are you okay!?”

You were a loose toy strung up.

Flopping down, lifeless, you were a doll that couldn’t close its eyes until it was laid down.

A second deafening splash came as you hung there.

Mikey’s lips were moving awfully fast.

“Did they hit their head?!” Donnie’s voice broke through.

“No! Above water the whole time! Donnie! They aren’t saying anything, I don’t-”

“Shock?” Donnie wondered, but he never came into frame.

Where was he?

Mikey jostled you as one might bounce a colicky baby.

It was pulling a string on your back and you hacked on contact. 

You wheezed, forcing air in where terror had torn it from you. 

You fought. 

Not Mikey exactly, but the situation. 

It strung your arms back. 

It shoved your torso forward. 

It threw your head skyward. 

You gasped, alive. 

You saw blue.

It was the sky.

You hadn’t died.

Mikey had saved you.

Finally.

You came down from your arching to translate your joy. 

Mikey’s face slid into your vision and he was the picture of a boiled red tomato dotted with summertime spots.

He was looking at you. 

He had ogled you. 

He was embarrassed. 

Your blood pressure plummeted twice as fast as it had when you thought you were about to die.

This was worse.

This time you heard yourself scream as you lashed out.

Water flew up as if to welcome you, to bring you where you were meant to be. 

Drowned. 

Returned you to that place where you weren’t an object to be viewed.

You were a person floating free.

Liquid carried life.

It supported it.

It didn’t have it.

Vertigo struck you as you moved within a blink. 

In a disorientated spiral, your lids fell heavy as your inner ear tried to correct the imbalance. 

There were no longer hands around your waist. 

Something clicked like an engine uselessly turning over. 

Weary, you realized you were standing in a safe spot in the water. 

You drew up the dreary blinds of your curtain and found a muscled arm thrown out protectively in front of you. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!!” Mikey cried, loud and desperate.

“What the hell was that then!?” Donnie’s voice rang close.

That firm limb tucked you further behind someone. 

You were being shielded.

A squabble happened in front of you, but you only looked down at the jade appendage acting as your guard rail.

You touched the arm and it felt familiar.

“Don-nie?” Your voice came out synthetic.

His was the body you were behind and his face appeared in a whip of his head. “Are you alright? Can you swim? I’ll move.”

“I’m not…?” You weren’t swimming.

You weren’t doing anything.

You were standing in the water. 

“What…?”

You looked past Donnie and glimpsed Mikey with a faint blush still stuck to his cheeks.

“Y-you…!” It felt accusatory on your lips.

“I’m sorry!!!” Mikey screeched.

“Turn around, dummy!” Donnie growled hot and was in motion.

You were soon ushered into a spin with an indelicate hand to your back and all but rushed over to the rock you had jumped off of.

You heard a splash of what you assumed was Mikey growing distant behind you. 

You hoped that would cool him off. 

“You ready?” Donnie’s voice appeared like it was newly there. 

“For what?” You were already used.

What was left?

Was it time to take out the recycling?

“I’m going to lift you up. Your shirt is right there.” Donnie instructed. 

“My shirt…” You were forlorn.

It was your back-up comfort item.

“Ready?” Donnie asked again.

The water rocked you and you barely bumped his firm plastron. 

You nodded dumbly.

Your hips were taken in what you read as a clinical way. 

You were barely bounced once, then twice, in a way that ballet dancers got momentum to lift their partners. 

Sure enough, you were lifted cleanly out of the water.

Only this time you felt well handled.

You weren’t swung around like a toddler holding up their favorite doll.

A child who cared for his toys put you on a shelf.

When your knees touched down, you drank in the life of the rock and scrambled for your shirt.

All the things that had just occurred crashed into you.

Shoving your head through the hole, you yanked the shirt down your body as you were already in motion. Forest floor digging into your bare feet, you didn’t need the map to retrace your steps. You followed the single, winding, prickly path and emerged out by the cabin only to fly inside it. A sanctuary amongst the unrelenting woods, you left a rotting drip trail as you entered your room. Your door clattered from where you had thrown it open and you ripped your duffel bag to shreds to get to its confines.

Pulling on layer after layer, you could see Mikey’s blush with each piece of clothing.

He’d looked at you.

You shoved your feet into a third pair of socks.

His gaze was amorous.

Into a thermal that was very much against the season, you ran out of clothes and stormed the dresser.

Sexual.

There were oversized men’s clothes that struck you as maybe being Raph’s and you thanked their huge size.

You put shirt after shirt on.

Mikey had said, point blank, that he wanted to see how far his feelings went.

Why were you so stupid?

You screamed.

Raw and uncut.

Tearing at your larynx, you ripped a few too many layers off as they impeded your melt down.

You needed space to breathe.

You needed to be swallowed whole.

Stumbling out to that accursed mirror, the shape you found there was a frumpy one.

Smiling a teary look at it, you watched it warp your face into one of dismay and you cried.

Where had you last felt okay?

It wasn’t here.

Moving around the room you searched for it.

That intangible something that would help.

Knocking everything over, you finally got a hold of a much too large pillow and hugged it to your body.

It was large and not at all as firm as you wanted.

You needed a hard wall.

You needed that unrelenting nature.

You weren’t something to be judged with heat.

You needed a cold light the sun couldn’t supply.

The wall knocked.

You spun around with your pillow defense to find the back of a head waiting there.

“I come as an emissary.” Donnie spoke slow and methodical.

“You can-!” It wasn’t Mikey.

Your pillow fell slack into one hand.

It wasn’t Mikey.

You let it drop with a thump to the floor.

It wasn’t Mikey.

“…come in.”

You took a wobbly step to spread out your clothed legs in hopes of keeping yourself upright.

Donnie didn’t move.

“You can… come in…” You repeated, not sure if you had gotten the first phrase out.

“No.”

“No…?” You took another step and saw how Donnie was clearly beyond the boundary of your open door.

With his back to you. 

Not impeding on you in any way. 

“This is your space.” He spoke it like a finality. 

You stared at the knot of his mask tails and tried to place what you felt.

“Being out here with us…” Donnie let the sentence hang before he lowered his gaze to the floor. “I want to… respect that much.”

“Why’d you say it like that?”

“I prefer the term ‘sanctum,’ but I couldn’t fit it in.”

“A sacred place…?”

The back of his head nodded. “My lab is supposed to be one.”

Sanctums weren’t places to be invaded.

If they were then they were violated.  

He understood.

Is that what you felt?

Camaraderie?

Even his mania in the beginning had been one you made sense of.

Was that why you hadn’t complained?

No, you were rewriting history from your current perspective.

It was also the only one you knew.

It was one where you envied one man. 

It was where you once feared another. 

Now their roles were reversed. 

You never had to explain your misery to Donnie.

You didn’t have to make him understand.

He was the moon.

You rushed towards him.

Donnie heard the footsteps and made it about half a turn before you reached him. “As… I was saying, I talked to Michael and come in his stead to-”

You collided with that unrelenting wall of plastron. Finding an odd hinge between the front of his shell and the back, you did your best to tuck into that space and weaseled under his arm. You felt it rise above you, out of your way and a rotation brought you more towards his front. There you felt him stop to take your over-clothed form in.

“I’m sorry!” You choked on tears, rooting the sound as deep against Donnie’s wet clothes as possible.

He let your misery hang for exactly one second. 

Then he surrounded you in a soft moon glow.

He pulled you toward his chest and you burrowed closer to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I completely overreacted. It was just too much… Too much attention… the way he looked. He said… I thought he wouldn’t… I didn’t want…!”

A hand pet through the layers of your back.

Even and careful.

No further connotation other than to soothe.

Squirming to get your arms out from where you were crushing them, you wiggled them free to embrace him.

You squeezed a sigh right out of him.

“I know.” He spoke into your damp head. “I know…”

You nodded and basked in the tide. Pulled by the moon’s orbit, the waves rolled in and out with a sway. A gentle rocking, you were cast a comfortable drift by it. This was the one you had longed for from the swimming hole. Here, you floated amongst sturdy shores. Held safe, the guiding white light poured around you. One that pushed back against the darkness, it shone on you. Lucky to be in its reach, it wasn’t the type you soaked up. It instead washed over you in a cleanse. Feeling lighter and a little stifled, you extracted yourself from moisture to moisture.

Everything around you from your leaking face to the clingy pond water was soaked and you frowned down Donnie’s body. Standing in a little pool mostly created by him, you wanted to stick your tongue out at it, but you feared the bacteria clearly clinging to your skin.

“The cabin is yours tonight.”

Before you could register the words, you felt him strengthen his resolve with a puff of his chest.

“I don’t want to hear complaints otherwise.”

You wanted to pout.

“I checked the systems when we were doing our preliminary cleaning. The water will be hot. Shower, bathe, do whatever you’d like. We’ll be staying outside.”

You gave a faint nod to the wet floor.

“We’ll grill and I’ll make you a plate. Preference?”

You shook your head. “I don’t… feel like eating…”

“Bland it is.”

Now you were pouting.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Your head felt heavy.

“I still have a message from Mikey to deliver.”

“I really don’t want to hear it.” Irritation brought you to look at him.

Donnie took you in with a sort of smile. “You’ll want to.”

You dropped your features in a way that said you didn’t believe him.

“He said he’s not ready to talk as he’s having his own crisis, but he’ll let you know when he’s ready to apologize.” Donnie tilted his head, almost amused.

You blinked straight out of your bitterness to stare openly.

Donnie gave a single knowing nod.

“Enjoy your shower.” With one last sweep over you as if to check you were all still there, Donnie turned and headed for the door.

Watching him go, you saw the faint amber hue of sunset.

“It’ll all work out.” Donnie tossed just as he grabbed the knob to exit.

You turned and stormed straight to the bathroom. Drowning in clothes and scum, you locked the door tight and turned the shower knobs to their highest setting. Leaving the water to warm, you started removing your outermost shirt. As soon as it hit the ground you felt possessed. You tore off your clothes with each subsequent layer removed at a faster and faster pace. You needed to be freed. You needed that ridiculous protection off of you as soon as possible. All of it soiled, you stripped down bare and left your feet for last.

The moment they were naked and pressed to tile, you leapt into the old style tub. Instantly boiled by the too hot water, you let it scorch you with clenched teeth at first until the burn seared and you adjusted the dial for something reasonable. Still a lobster in a pot, you scrubbed your skin until you thought it might flake and then doused it in suds until you couldn’t see its color. A sea of white foam, the second scrounge came through, washing the detritus away.

Pickled in the process, you emerged and greedily took up every towel in the room. It meant toeing around the disgusting mound of clothes you’d left, but Donnie had said the cabin was yours. Until tomorrow when you’d clean the place up, you instead mourned how you hadn’t even brought your toothbrush in with you. Scowling at a fog coated mirror, you cracked the door and watched the steam leak out.

Chasing it with your ear, you didn’t hear anything, but there was a distinct lemon scent.

You followed the smell into the hall where you quickly placed it was cleaner. The floor had a sheen to it that spoke of a recent mopping. The clean line ending abruptly at your door said exactly who the culprit was. Donatello had snuck back in to clean and you were thankful for it. He’d left your sanctuary untouched and instead set a stool just outside the door. 

On it was a stack of comfortable looking clothes and a note.

‘Keep your room or upgrade. I recommend the one upstairs, second bedroom on the right.’

You folded the note along its lines and placed it back on the offered clothes. You then gathered the lot and took it with you along with a brave face as you entered your room. You barely looked up as you salvaged what you could from your duffel. Carrying the mostly limp sack, you then moved to follow your recommendation. It led you through the darkened cabin and up the winding wooden stairs where the door in question was closed. Knocking on it out of politeness, you found it empty and slipped inside. It was decorated similarly, but clearly different. Comfortable in its own sense, you went about your nightly routine as best you could and thanked the space for not having a mirror. Growing more weary by the second, you thought vaguely of meat as you instead pulled back the covers.

Sinking in and imagining charcoal lighting the men’s faces, you settled down into the welcoming embrace of bed.

You eventually got up and padded across a tiled floor.

Pulling out a single slick piece of black fabric, you double checked the door was closed before changing.

The perfect swimsuit was one you hadn’t imagined you’d find.

What luck, you thought, as you slipped it on.

Stepping into it, you shimmied into the fabric and turned for that show stopping image in the changing room.

It was perfect.

It covered you in all the right ways.

Finally, the piece you’d been looking for.

Smiling and striking pose after pose, you saw a hand wave above the curtain.

“Come in!” You called to it. 

Sanctum’s were only to be entered with permission. 

“Silly.” You looked over your pleasing image once more. “Is it still a violation if I request it?”

“I guess not.” Instead of drawing the curtain back, Donnie slipped through it.

Tucking himself a strong wall behind you, he looked into the mirror at you.

What looked back held no heat, only appreciation.

“Do you like it?” He checked with you without passing judgment himself.

“I do…” You smiled.

He gave one of his own, though subdued, and flicked his gaze down. “Look here.”

You lowered your gaze to find him kneeling behind you. With his head popped out around your hips, he was looking up at you in a way you liked quite a bit.

You felt powerful.

You were a light bright enough for him to want to project.

“This ruching here has leading lines.” He didn’t touch you, but his hands ghosted over you along the fabric’s pattern.

Your lips parted and your chest filled with heat.

A celestial body was meant to look on.

You were safe. 

“May I?” He asked you once again. 

You were glad and responded with a breathless, “Please.”

His mouth opened a dark orbital maw, a new moon, which then glinted into a teeth-filled waxing crescent headed in its trek to sink into your soft flesh.

You jolted the moment the teeth supposedly hit their mark. 

You stared into the dark abyss and saw drifting images of sharpened grins. 

You were dizzy.

A sheen of sweat to you, you tossed back a cover. 

The black hovel above you took shape as logs in the cabin ceiling. 

They lined up like thick thighs appearing from where board shorts had hiked up. 

Begging for a taste.

Awareness struck with a sharp inhale.

Fully awake and doused with dread from your dream, you voiced your despair with a whisper.

“Oh no…”

💛 NEXT 💛

I swear I handed this to my betas over a year ago... @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Six

Chapter Summary: Elain is cornered into making a decision on the future of their relationship when Graysen asks her a question.

Word Count: 4.4k

Missed the first five chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: Happy W(no longer)IP Wednesday!!

As always, thank you for all your lovely comments and messages about this fic and others... and also just in general. I'm always so blown away by how lovely this community can be and I appreciate all the support and your patience so much. It's been a busy couple months and I am so excited to finally be posting this chapter. It contains the very first paragraph that I ever wrote for this fic all the way back in October last year so it feels very surreal that it's finally going up!

I do want to give a tiny warning for a potential trigger in regards to Graysen's behaviour. It's just a tiny part but it may prove difficult for some readers so please be aware of that before you read. I hope you like this chapter, please let me know what you think and what you think may happen next!

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

Elain’s ears were filled with the sounds of chatter, the clinking of champagne coupes, and the romantic crescendo of whatever modern song the violinist in the corner of the room had recomposed to better suit the energy of the function tonight. She fidgeted with the neckline of her dress in an attempt to cool herself down. The room was packed with people and despite the otherwise cool night, she could feel the first bead of sweat running down her back. 

They were at Graysen’s parents house for yet another Saturday night dinner party. This one was another lavish soirée with no real purpose that his mother had thrown together for the weekend. Much like every one of these events, Elain only found out that she’d need to dress up to the nines when Graysen informed her in the shower that morning, with his arms around her waist and his lips against her ear, that she’d need to look extra pretty tonight.

 Elain always felt out of place at these things. She felt underdressed and unprepared. She was constantly worried about how everything she said and did would be perceived by Graysen’s parents and their friends. 

She’d become an expert at flying under the radar at these events - had figured out quickly that blending into the wallpaper was more tolerable than attempting to blend in with the crowd. She’d given up on the latter after the first couple of these Saturday night parties where she worked out that no amount of socialising and smiling  would get the other attendees to look at her with any semblance of respect once they found out that she sold handmade soaps and herbal tonics for a living.

She couldn’t exactly rely on Graysen to be any sort of support at these things either, not when he was too busy schmoozing with some businessman or lawyer or doctor. He’d corner her every now and then, drape her on his arm in an attempt to show her off but Elain knew how to slip away. She knew to whisper in his ear that she needed the ladies room and she certainly knew how to take her time making her way back to him. What she didn’t know was how her partner couldn’t seem to tell, or perhaps didn’t seem to care, that his family didn’t respect her.

Elain had been wandering around all evening, entertaining herself by picking at the canapés and the drinks that were balanced on trays carried by wait staff dressed in head to toe black. She’d  just plucked another thin stemmed glass of red wine from a passing server when she felt the energy in the room completely shift.

 She heard the way conversations suddenly stopped, felt the way the air turned stagnant. Most of all, she somehow knew, without even having to check, that every single eye in the room was focused on her. 

Elain glanced up from her drink and found the nerve to turn and see what all the fuss was about but that singular second was all it took for her to wish that she’d simply minded her business.

She froze in an instant, completely and utterly paralysed at the sight in front of her. Graysen was balanced on one knee, looking up at her with his bright blue eyes and a small black velvet box cradled in his hand. 

She felt like she was going to be sick. Couldn’t stop her hands from trembling, couldn’t do anything to slow the frantic racing of her heart. Part of her hoped that this was a nightmare. She prayed that she’d wake up in the safety of her bedroom and that none of this would be real. 

It felt like the whole room had tilted, the wine she’d been knocking back suddenly hit her full force as she continued to stare down at him. Based on the immediate silence that had fallen around them and the look of despair that she’d somehow managed to spot on his mother’s face from where she’d suddenly appeared just behind her son, he hadn’t told anyone that he’d intended to do this tonight. 

Elain couldn’t hear anything over the rush of blood between her ears and she barely registered the way his lips shaped the question as he carefully opened the box to display what could only be described as the most ostentatious ring she’d ever seen in her life. It was gigantic and shiny and so out of place compared to all the other jewellery she owned. She tried to listen to what he was saying but Graysen’s words were overtaken by another memory she’d tucked away carefully in the very back of her mind that had chosen this particular moment to resurface.

… 

“You should marry a boy like that.” Her father had told her once, peering at her briefly over the top of the glasses perched low on his nose as he’d fiddled with whatever woodcarving held his attention that particular night. 

Elain had been sitting in the armchair across the fire from him, quietly cursing under her breath as she tried and failed to crochet a teddy bear for Feyre’s newborn baby.

“A boy like what?” She’d asked, setting down her hook and actually looking up at her father. It was so rare for him to comment on any of his daughter’s relationships - romantic or otherwise. 

“Like that Azriel boy that’s always trailing you around,” he'd muttered, once again focused on his project. “Nice kid… respectful. He’d be good for you.”

Elain had been flustered, suddenly warmer than she’d been just a minute before as she attempted to figure out how to respond. She was so taken aback by the conversation that she hadn’t even stopped to point out that her father loved to refer to Azriel as if he barely knew him. As if he hadn’t spent fifteen minutes engaging in quiet conversation with Azriel each and every time he walked in the door for the past seven or eight years. As if her father wasn’t one of the very few people to whom Azriel would offer anything more than a passing ‘hello.’.

“Az and I aren’t… we’re just…” she’d sighed. “He’s just a friend, Dad.” 

“Didn’t say he wasn’t,” her father had shrugged. “Just saying I’d be happy if you married a boy like him.” 

“Well I’m not looking to get married any time soon and certainly not to - wait, why are we even talking about this?” Elain questioned, cutting off her own sentence as she nervously fiddled with a knot in her skein of yarn. She’d been desperate to move on from the topic lest she be cursed to ponder her feelings for Azriel any more than she already had when she was left alone with her thoughts too long. 

“Feyre is married with a new baby, Nesta’s moved out and is getting married soon so you don’t see her as much. It’s a Friday night and you’re at home with your father, El.” His voice had taken on a serious tone. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re lonely? The only time I see you really smile anymore is when you’re with him.”

“That’s not true. I’m not lonely and I like spending time with you or by myself,” she’d said, unable to meet her dad’s eyes. How could she when she knew fully well that she was lying through her teeth?

“I’m just a little worried about you lately,” Mr. Archeron had continued. “I want you to be happy, I know Azriel makes you happy and I think, for whatever reason, that scares you. ”

Elain had blushed, biting her cheek. She had no idea how her usually clueless father had zeroed in on the two truths that she kept closest to her heart. She couldn’t work out how he’d managed to sense the feeling of relentless loneliness that followed her like a shadow as everyone around her found their people and their place in the world. She certainly hadn’t been able to figure out how he’d known that her feelings for Azriel often toed the line of just friends and how that feeling had amplified once she’d found herself spending more and more time alone with him.

“Azriel doesn’t… I don’t think he sees me like that.” 

There had been a million reasons running through her head. A million excuses for why she and Azriel wouldn’t work. Why they couldn’t be together. Why it would be an absolute disaster if they even tried. She’d never dared to voice them out loud, never even dared to admit that she felt like that towards him. 

Mr. Archeron had laughed - two quick short breaths that sounded a lot like disbelief. Elain had always loved her father’s laugh, but in that moment it had made her angry for a reason she hadn’t been able to nail down.

Elain had stared at him, mouth agape. “What?” 

“Elain, Azriel likes Nesta. He likes Feyre. But that boy loves you.” 

It was Elain’s turn to laugh as her father’s words landed. She’d clutched at her pendant and set aside her long forgotten project. 

“That’s ridiculous. That’s not true,” she’d said, standing up on embarrassingly shaky legs. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, dad.” 

It hadn’t even been  close to the time she usually went to bed but Elain couldn’t sit and listen to that anymore. The idea of Azriel returning her feelings was preposterous. The idea that her father thought he was in love with her? Absolutely nauseating. 

“Give it a chance, El.” Her father had said softly as she made her way towards the stairs. “If he likes you and you like him, give him a chance. He’s good for you.” 

…

Her father’s words had haunted her all of that night until she forced them all the way into the back corner of her mind where she kept all the other similar feelings and thoughts she preferred to ignore. Suppressing the memory of that night had worked well and it had popped up only one time in the years since. When she’d been laying in bed with Azriel on one of the nights in the week after her father had passed - her tear streaked face in the crook of his neck, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the small of her back. 

His words came flying back into her mind now  as she looked down at the man on one knee in front of her. 

“I…” She forced herself to speak after almost a full minute of silence, her fathers words still blaring in her ears.

 He’s good for you. 

The only time I see you smile anymore is when you’re with him.

That boy loves you. 

How could she say yes to anyone else when there was only one person she’d ever truly wanted?

She needed to say something. Anything. She focused her eyes on Graysen, her face softening in the hopes of lessening the blow she was about to deal him. “Please don’t do this.”

His face fell at her whispered words, his lips pressing together into a straight line as he slowly stood up and squared his shoulders. She didn’t miss the flash of anger that passed over his face as he pocketed the ring, there and gone in a second before his usual cool demeanour settled into place. 

Graysen gave her a smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes as he placed a hand on the small of her back and Elain did her best not to flinch away from his touch. He led her out of the room, muttering an excuse to the rest of the guests - some small joke at her expense that he trusted would make light of the situation.  She tried to ignore the incessant buzz of hushed whispers as they passed by his friends and family. His mother’s relieved face was the last thing she saw before she stepped outside and took her first proper breath in what felt like minutes, relishing in the soothing feeling of the chill night air on her overheated skin. 

He didn’t say anything to her. Not as they walked towards his car, not as he drove her back home. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything either, too shocked from what he’d just done to form a coherent thought. It wasn’t until they were back in her apartment that he finally broke the unbearable silence between them.

“What the hell was that?” He didn’t bother to mask his anger anymore. It resurfaced clear as day, written in every harsh line of his face. He stood a foot away from her, one hand braced on the bannister of her stairs to block her from getting around him. 

“We’ve never even talked about this.” She shook her head, shakily running a hand through her hair. “We’ve never once discussed getting married.” 

She knew that he hardly listened. She was fully aware that in the year they’d been together, he’d rarely taken the time to ask her questions. Had never bothered to truly get to know her. She’d ignored it at the beginning, had kept him around because he’d been the distraction that she needed at the time and she’d been happy to go along with it as weeks turned to months. She was happy to play the part of the partner he so clearly desired.

He’d been nice enough that she’d thought that one day it would click. That maybe with enough time, she could trick herself into thinking that she was capable of loving someone other than the kind-eyed boy whom she’d silently pined over for the last decade. The only person she’d ever felt comfortable enough around to not have to pretend to be anyone other than herself. It wasn’t until she’d turned to see Graysen on one knee that she knew that she couldn’t do it, couldn’t pretend to love a man that didn’t even really know her. 

“I wasn’t aware that this was something we had to discuss, Elain.” Graysen replied. “You’ve just fucking embarrassed me in front of my family and friends.” 

Elain scoffed, just half of a clipped laugh filled to the brim with disbelief. “That’s what bothers you about this situation? That’s what you’re annoyed about? You aren’t bothered that I said no but you’re bothered that I said no in front of all those people?”

“Of course I’m bothered that you said no but you could’ve waited to say no instead of making a scene.” 

“I didn’t make a scene, Graysen!” She seethed. “You made a scene by asking me that question in a public setting when we’d never discussed this before! You’ve never asked what kind of ring I wanted, we’ve never talked about what kind of a proposal I might like, we’ve never even discussed if either of us wanted to get married at all.” 

“I thought we were on the same page. I’d assumed you’d say yes!” He dragged a hand through his hair. 

“You assume a lot about me and that’s the entire problem,” she shook her head solemnly. “I know I’m not an open book, I know I keep a lot to myself but you’ve never even tried. You’ve never asked me about myself or my interests or you tune out when I do talk about the shop or my family or things that I like. All you care about is dressing me up however you like and parading me around. You like that I don’t argue back, that I go along with whatever you suggest and that’s okay because I’ve played a part in that as well but you don’t know me, Graysen.” 

“If you felt like that then why are you here? Why have you stayed?” Graysen asked. 

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “It’s been nice and I do care about you but it hasn’t even been a full year, Gray. I just didn’t think we were close to even considering getting married.”

“So it’s not because you’re waiting for him?” 

Elain stopped short, startled by his remark. Graysen had never once brought up anything that had happened back home since they’d gotten back from their trip for Nyx’s birthday at the start of the year, much to her surprise. And Elain had fought tooth and nail, used every little bit of willpower she had to stop her mind from constantly fixating on what Azriel had told her on Nesta’s porch that night. On what he’d gently advised her to do. 

I  can handle you being with someone else, I’ve done it for a decade… but please… please don’t stay with someone that doesn’t make you happy just to prove a point to yourself or to me or to anyone else.

She’d heard him that night and then proceeded to do exactly what he’d told her not to. She’d spent months - years in all actuality -  running from her problems and it had finally caught up to her. She’d hit a brick wall, hard and fast, and now she was completely stuck, caught in a web made of all her worst decisions. 

“Elain?” Graysen’s voice broke through her spiralling thoughts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it? 

“No,” Elain shook her head. She couldn’t work out why even now she was fighting the truth. 

“You’re in love with him aren’t you?” 

“No,” she shook her head, hating the way tears immediately started to fall from her eyes, as if her body was rejecting the lie. “He’s just my best friend.”

“Take off the necklace, then.” Graysen jutted his chin towards her chest, his eyebrow raised and his lips set in a hard line. “If he isn’t the reason that you can’t say yes to me, if you don’t love him… take off the necklace.”

Elain stepped away from him, swallowing her nerves. She felt dizzy all of a sudden. Everything felt wrong, the air felt thick and heavy and a horrible ball of something ominous settled in the pit of her stomach. “I can’t take it off, Gray. I won’t.” 

She really couldn’t. She’d only ever taken it off for an x-ray or a massage. She knew it was ridiculous, that it was just a physical object and it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she gave in and removed it, but unclasping her necklace would feel like the end of something and she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

“Take it off, Elain.” Graysen demanded again, stepping towards her. “You won’t accept a ring from me but you’ll wear some piece of shit necklace that your best friend made for you years ago?”

“It’s a necklace with sentimental value, Graysen.  I’ve worn it every single day for years and I’m not going to change that now.” Elain sighed. “What does the necklace have to do with this, anyway?”

“Everything. It has everything to do with this,” he moved closer. “Hate seeing that thing around your fucking neck every goddamn day.”

“I’m not going to take it off.”

“So we’re done then?” His voice went whisper soft and she froze, completely backed up against a wall with nowhere to go. She knew that when he went quiet, trouble was soon to follow. 

“I didn’t say that,” Elain pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“You don’t want to get married, though.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Not now or not ever?”

She stayed silent even though the answer was loud and clear in her head.

“Fucking hell, Elain.” Graysen cursed under his breath and moved in even closer. Before she knew what was happening, he’d raised his hand and reached forward, firmly grasping her beloved pendant in his fingers. With one swift movement, Graysen tugged and the chain around Elain’s neck pinched her skin as it snapped. 

She was shocked. Elain stared at him with wide eyes and it wasn’t fear that coursed through her veins, but anger. She acted on instinct, shoving him backwards with two firm hands against his chest. 

“Don’t you ever fucking touch me like that again,” she seethed, annoyed at the way her voice and hands  shook a little. She may not have felt afraid in the moment, but it was clear that her body was having a different physical response. “Get out.”

“Elain-” Graysen tried to talk to her. Reason with her. 

She was used to this - the softening of his eyes, his voice. The slight drop of his shoulders. He’d let his emotions get the best of him and now he was doing recon. 

“Please, baby.” He tried again, taking one small half-step towards her. 

“Get. Out.” Elain stood her ground. “Get the fuck out my apartment.” 

It was clear that Graysen was surprised by this. He hadn’t expected her to argue back, not when she usually just gave in to his half hearted attempts at apologies. But she’d had enough and she’d finally stood her ground even if she’d let it go entirely too far. His defences went up in return, his shoulders squared, his jaw turned rigid, and his eyes narrowed.

“We’re done,” her voice cracked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“So that’s it then?” Graysen raised an eyebrow. “What’s your plan, Elain? You have nothing. You have no one here. All you had was me... My friends. My money. ”

“Please, can you just go?” Elain practically begged, her heart was racing and all she wanted was a cold glass of water and to lay down. 

“Do you really think he’s going to want you, Elain?” Graysen gave her a sardonic grin. “You’re nothing but a pretty face. You’ll go running back home and straight into his arms but what do you think is going to happen? He won’t want you.”

Tears pricked at Elain’s eyes and she pleaded with herself to not let them fall. She couldn’t let him win. Couldn’t let him know that everything he was saying were thoughts that she’d had about herself time and time again. 

“He may keep you around for a bit but the novelty will wear off,” he shrugged. “I know how men work, Elain. You’ve strung him along for years… he doesn’t like you. He just likes the chase. He’ll fuck you a few times and then he’ll realise that you have little else to offer. You’re nothing, Elain. He may think the world of you now but you are nothing. No one will want a girl like you.”

Elain was shaking. She didn’t know whether it was from anger or nerves or perhaps embarrassment that she hadn’t been able to hold back her tears and now she could taste the salt that dampened her cheeks. 

“No one wants a girl like me?” Elain managed to scoff. “Do you hear yourself? You proposed to me not even an hour ago.”

Graysen opened his mouth to speak but Elain had finally had enough. She couldn’t stand to listen to him spit more vitriolic words into her face. Couldn’t stand the reminders of everything she’d already convinced herself to be true. She walked past him, straight to the door of her apartment. 

She twisted the knob, pulling the door open before turning back to face him. “Leave.” 

“If I step out of that door, I’m not coming back,” Graysen threatened. “We’ll be done.” 

“Leave,” she repeated. 

Graysen’s jaw clenched and he let out a sharp exhale of air as he made his way towards the open door. He didn’t say anything as he looked at her, only pausing to give her a disgusted once-over before he flung her necklace on the ground. She watched as it landed right by the sharp heel of her shoe. 

Elain barely heard him mutter whatever last insult he flung her way before he walked away. She closed her door and locked it but her eyes never left that shimmering piece of gold shining bright on her dark floor. She sank to her knees, tears falling so hard and fast from her eyes that the neckline of her dress was wet. She didn’t realise how quick and shallow her breaths had become until she was on the floor, her broken necklace safe in her hands. 

She pulled her legs to her chest and lowered her head in between her knees, her fingers still tightly clutching the pendant. This was the lowest moment of her life and she couldn’t believe she’d let it get to this point.  She was disappointed with herself. With her decisions. She’d wasted years of her life. She’d wasted her time and the time of at least two other people. She’d isolated herself from everyone that genuinely cared about her. She’d missed out on major family milestones. Had pushed away any chance of happiness that had been presented to her. 

Elain had run and run and run and where had it gotten her? 

She was thirty years old and lived in a city that would never feel like home. She had  countless failed relationships and one disastrous marriage proposal under her belt. She was having a panic attack in her tiny apartment and there was nothing she could do about it. She grasped for her phone - desperate to have someone talk her through this terrible feeling, to remind her how to breathe. 

Amidst her racing thoughts and racing heart, she ran through her options - she couldn’t bother Nesta because she didn’t want to interrupt her time with Cassian. Feyre had enough on her plate with Nyx. She wasn’t close enough with any of her old friends to put them on the spot like this. She wanted her father, wanted a hug and the gruff it’ll be fine that would never come.

There was only one other option left but there was no way in hell she was going to go through with that when Graysen’s words were still blaring through her mind. 

Elain squeezed her eyes shut and tipped her head back against the door. She gripped her necklace in her fist and raised her fist to her chest, gently tapping in a rhythm that mimicked a normal heartbeat. She didn’t know how long she sat there before her heart slowed, matching the slow knocking of her fist against her chest. 

Her panic had subsided but the sadness and frustration lingered and the profound loneliness that she’d been trying to ignore - the loneliness that her father had once alluded to - finally bubbled up and threatened to drown her once and for all. 

[deconstructthesoup]

Fantasy High Good Place AU

I am very happy that y'all voted for this, because it's been living in my brain rent-free for the past couple weeks.

So, right off the bat---this is partially self-indulgence, and partially a little exploration of what the Bad Kids would be like as adults if they hadn't found each other... and, well, if they were living in a more mundane world. And, of course, I had to combine and add a couple roles, just to make everyone fit.

Fig: She's in the Eleanor role as the main POV character, and as the first person who decides to learn how to be better. In life, she was a twenty-seven-year-old musician living in Phoenix, Arizona who was still trying to find her big break, and got by via drug-dealing after a string of shitty service jobs. Fig hasn't spoken to her mom in years, even after both Gilear and Gordie (aka Gorthalax) have both died, and she put up a front of selfishness and constant lies due to not trusting anyone and being afraid of being vulnerable. But when she dies and supposedly gets mistaken for a pro-bono death-row lawyer, she realizes that she's gotta ask for help...

Ayda: She's in the Chidi role---a high-strung ethics professor who devoted her life to figuring out the deep secrets of the universe, often at the cost of her own mental health. She's not as indecisive as Chidi, but she's very much of the mindset that ethical standards should always be upholded, and she initially sees nothing wrong with the points system. As Ayda becomes closer to Fig, she starts to pick up on how the system doesn't count for extenuating circumstances, and how much of an actual minefield ethics is... and she starts to reflect on her own life, where she never knew how to connect with others and stayed in her comfort zone of academia. Throughout bonding with the others, she slowly learns how to let her walls down and challenge the system.

Fabian: He's in a Tahani role, as the upper-class socialite who pretty much bought his way into "heaven" and definitely has a bunch of narcissistic tendencies. Unlike Tahani, however, he's very much aware of his own failings, and he constantly stresses about how fragile his standing and happiness is---though, he's become incredibly good at hiding it. Fabian's pretty much been living in the shadow of his late father's legacy for his whole life, and he spent most of that life trying to be just as good, if not better, than him... so, when he supposedly gets into the "Good Place," it's essentially proof that he did everything right. Of course, that still doesn't keep him from feeling like there's something amiss, especially since there's some issues with his assigned soulmate...

Riz: In life, Riz was a P.I. who mostly did petty work for rich people and got used to doing things that were vaguely shady in order to get by. By the time he died, he had a very low opinion of people in general, and had a "dog eat dog" mindset... which was immediately blown out of the water the second he realized that he'd been mistaken for a brilliant secret agent, and he was going to spend his afterlife with a self-centered rich boy as romantic soulmates. Riz being Riz, he immediately started to figure a way out of this situation, eventually finding out Fig---and one other person---and agreeing to take Ayda's ethics lessons if it meant he could earn his spot in the Good Place... though, of course, he's still subconsciously picking up on the little hints that something is off.

Kristen: She's in the "Jason" role... sorta. When she was alive, she was a former member of a conservative Christian cult who left when she was nineteen, spent the next five years trying to find another truth to pursue, and spent the last three years of her life partying her problems away and living high on nihilism. So it was quite a shock for her when, after dying, she supposedly got sent to the Good Place... and only because they thought that she's a humanitarian pastor, and straight to boot. Kristen initially doesn't want to waste time with ethics lessons, but as more and more things start to go wrong, she reluctantly agrees---and ends up reconnecting with that curious, searching part of herself that she thought she'd left behind, over and over again.

Gorgug: When he was alive, he was a physicist who made a lot of impressive discoveries---many of which had the potential to really help people---but due to the fact that he had a lot of issues with standing up for himself and believed himself to not be as smart as he actually was, he tended to let himself get taken advantage of and have other people take credit for his work. Getting into the Good Place kind of confirmed Gorgug's belief that keeping your head down and being humble would pay off eventually... until his assigned soulmate immediately told him that she was a) gay, and b) here by mistake. The two of them do become pretty good friends, and Gorgug even sits in on some of Ayda's ethics lessons, learning a bit about himself as he does.

Adaine: She's Janet---or, rather, an "Oracle," one of many informational assistants made by the Good Place (the Bad Place has Informants, while Accountants have Librarians). Every Oracle is given a name upon being activated in order to distinguish her from others, and, well, hers is Adaine. She starts off as your typical cheery, happy-to-help living Siri, but as time goes on and she gets rebooted over and over again, she starts to form genuine connections with the humans, and with connections come actual feelings... including the rise of mild anxiety. Adaine's grateful for that, though, as she sees becoming more human as an incredible experience.

Aelwyn: Honestly... there was no other character who was bitchy, multifaceted, and weirdly loving enough to be Micheal. At first, underneath her quirky and "cool older sister" angel persona, she's every bit the callous, vindictive, and cruel demon who only lives to torment human souls and prove her worth to her boss. But reboot after reboot, she fails, the humans become closer and figure her out... and she's eventually forced to cave. Aelwyn never fully loses her bitchiness and slightly amoral nature, but she does develop a heart and self-awareness as she becomes friends with the humans---and as she forms a sisterly connection with Adaine. Even a demon can learn to grow.

I have more thoughts, but I've spent a lot of time figuring out how to make this coherent, so... yeah!

[novelcain]

Y'all got me thinking so hard abt mafia wukong I'm dropping. Some things I've thought of in the last like five minutes for your viewing pleasure LOL feel free to ignore me or delete this I am running off like two hours of sleep

-Wukong probably holds an annual sort of, dinner for those serving directly under him. It's probably a night for information to be passed around, big terf reports to be given, that kind of thing. Only the ones that answer directly to him are invited, the ones directly under him in the hierarchy, so probably like, the DBK family if they're involved, Macaque, his inner circle, so to speak. I imagine it's held in a restaurant on their terf, or that they have control over, so it's only them being served that night.

- At these dinners everyone has a set seat. The seat to Wukong's left is always for MK and the seat to his right is always for Reader. Bad things happen if you mess with those seats!

- And gods help you when Wukong has a little too much wine to drink! He's handsy when he's stone cold sober, he's even worse when he's tipsy and/or drunk. I imagine him placing Reader in his lap at some point in the night, running his hands over every bit of them he can, leaning his cheek against their shoulder. Everyone has kind of learned to keep their mouths shut, but eventually someone is gonna have something they need to say and he's not even going to look away from Reader, carrying a conversation with his underling all while keeping his attention on Reader

- Oohhh when dinner is over and work is out of the way, it's relaxing time, everyone gets to mingle and enjoy music and drinks and to just lounge around in this space that's been procured for the meeting. Wukong makes Reader dance with him! The music is something soft and slow, sensual, and he takes them by the hand and sways to the music.

- Eventually the night comes to a close and everyone disperses. Wukong gets a little TOO handsy w Reader on the way home. Teehee.

Respectfully, anon. I refuse to ignore this as it is some delicious brain food you have given me~ 😌

First, I can't get out of my head how utterly embarrassed MK would be seeing his adoptive dad getting handsy with who he's beginning to see as his mother figure. All the while, his friends Mei and Red Son, the heirs to the Dragon of the West Triad and the Demon Bull Family Triad respectively, are teasing his and making fun of him for it. Tho Red Son shuts up about it later when his mom and dad start getting a little too drunk to keep their hands to themselves too.

I also think that with specific seating arrangements he has a special table that he likes more than all the others. I like to imagine that the business that they go to is Pigsy's Place. A restaurant that Wukong has been going to for at least a century and has been laundering money through since he helped Pigsy go from a noodle shop that he stumbled into one night at 3am while he was drunk to a full blown 5 star comfort food restaurant that's constantly booked.

Now to what you're all here for~

You've know this monkey for a while now and you know that once he starts to drink it's inevitable that he goes from his usual casual passing touches to practically dry humping you in front of everyone

Ffs the man has his hand up your dress!

You get so flustered and try to feed him food and water to help him sober up but he just keeps getting his hands on more alcohol and somehow even gets you to drink a bit as well

You two definitely end up getting frisky in the limo ride back

Mk saw that coming after jumping out the window the last time because his dad got so drunk that he forgot his son was still in the damn car and went home in Macaque's car, which Mk is driving because Macaque is past out in the passenger's seat after having a drinking contest with DBK. The winner of which was unclear.

[earlgreytea68]

i know it's been said a million times already but i simply CANNOT get over pete deciding that patrick is going to have his solo piano time for this tour and how pete has ALWAYS thought patrick is the greatest, most talented musician ever and has spent their entire careers shouting that fact from the rooftops..................... like obviously he's RIGHT but can you imagine being the object that kind of unwavering faith and belief and devotion..................... like it's just THE peterick dynamic.................. pete will always be in awe of patrick, will always be happy to be along for the ride, will always want to make patrick shine and patrick will be brave and indulgent for pete and together they will give each other purpose and MUSIC and slkdfjslkdfjsldfjsdf

I was actually just thinking about this because Patrick mentioned again last night how he told his mom twenty years ago he was going to take a semester off to see how the band stuff worked out, a story he tells a lot because ha ha we know how it worked out, how sweet, etc. But also it made me think about how he said his dad was at the Colorado show, his dad who is also a musician but never played to the tens of thousands of people turning out to cheer at his son every night. And it just made me think like,

You've got this kid, and he's got big dreams, and you want to encourage him but you're also probably kind of like "yeah okay suddenly you're a singer in a rock band, now let's talk about your college applications." But you didn't count on your kid meeting Pete Wentz and the guy dedicating basically his entire life to making sure the entire universe recognizes that your kid is a musical genius. Like one day Patrick brought this stray MUCH older scene kid home with him and was like "I'm going to be in this guy's band" and there must have been this moment of ... But then that guy turned out to be PETE, like, idk, Pete Wentz, everyone.

Patrick might never really truly believe what Pete knows to be true about him but he's willing to go along with it and look where they ended up and honestly the magic of the whole thing is so absurd who can believe it I am just constantly blown away this is a true story lol. That twenty years later that kid grew up to be Patrick stump and he's still on stage under a hat with no glasses on next to Pete Wentz and Pete's still going, "EVERYONE LOOK AT THIS AWESOME TREASURE I FOUND."

I can't.

[drabbles-mc]

I do not know if you are still during the dirty headcannons (or when they even started because I just ran across the one you did for Gilly and completely blacked out) but I would love to see what your little gremlin brain can some up with for Y for Miguel or EZ. Whomever, really. I know I am not going to be ready, but I will welcome it either way. I love you.

the way that there is never really an end date to any ask game i reblog because i'll always reply no matter how late you send it 😂 plus let's be real @darqchilddaydreamz let that shit sit and collect some interest before she came bursting into my inbox with that so we're all on this journey together now lmao

thoughts under the cut for: Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?)

perhaps someone should take my laptop and entire tumblr account away from me because the actual first thing that popped into my head when i read this in regards to Miguel was that that man should be happy that i call him anything let alone something he prefers 😂😂 but that's a me problem. just because i deem him unfuckable doesn't mean that he is lmao

but! on a more serious note. i do think that Miguel is the kind of guy who is very into the whole "Sir" thing. he's on that power trip constantly and we both know that it won't end just because he's in the bedroom. and while in my head he doesn't use any petnames for his girl that are particularly out of the ordinary, i do think that the tone in which he says those pet names are really what sets the whole mood. i think that a majority of the time they aren't really said with affection as much as they are said like a taunt. that's the game he's looking to play. nine times out of ten he wants someone to stroke his ego and if you want to do that by calling him Sir then he won't say no.

howeverrrrr that one other time out of ten????? i think that the right woman would most definitely be able to flip that dynamic on its head. a man with a complex like the one he's got??? the second someone is able to get him into submission mode it is game over. you could taunt and coo and call him baby as patronizingly as you want but if you had him in the right headspace for it he'd still be falling over himself to do whatever it is that you want. as he should be. 😌

Ezekiel on the other hand??? look. we all know. we all know I'm a mess and I'm biased about this man and i simply cannot be stopped. we all know this. but. in terms of things that i haven't already written or blown your dms up about...i have had....a thought or two in my time...

thoughts like i knooow this man has slipped up and called his girl "mommy" without meaning to before. that man has all that trauma and all those repressed feelings. he is a posterchild for it. and the first time it happens he doesn't mean to but once he says it, it's not like he can just take it back. he doesn't mean to say it and he definitely doesn't expect it to be something that feels good after the initial three seconds of panic after he said it. but he did and it does and then it's something that he now knows about himself.

and it's never an accident after that. it's not a constant though either. it happens when he feels like everything is falling apart or out of control and he needs to feel like he's the one being taken care of for once instead of being the one taking care of people. and he's soft and he's needy and he's never really let go of control like that before.

ANYWAY. if you ever find yourself wondering what's going on in the recesses of my little gremlin brain. there's a tiny little slice of it for you. 😂 we out here sleep-deprived and full of thots 😂😂

Dirty Headcanon Game

[leadhoovesies]

Finished My Dress-up Darling.

Ho-ly CRAP! What an amazing anime. It's a bit hard for me to put down my feelings about the whole thing. It hasn't caused me to bawl my eyes out like other things I watched recently, but it wasn't meant to. Its goal seems to be to give warm happy feelings and it succeeded. I am amazed that only one season is out so far. This is the first time that I'm heavily thinking of getting the manga just to see more.

I'll start with the animation. In a word, it's gorgeous. The lighting. The blur. The camera angles. The tiny details. The animation changes for each anime Marin wants to cosplay as. It's all so beautiful. I am blown away by the quality of work they put on here. That being said, I can see why a second season is taking a while.

I'll follow up with the audio, which I haven't really paid much attention to in other shows I've recently watched. The music in this is perfect. It's never bombastic or overwhelming. It lingers in the background adding a bit of flavor in every scene. Almost always warm and pleasant. Cozy. Snuggly.

I watched the dub. The localization is perfect. The voice actors did an amazing job.

Next I'll touch on the story. Dress-up Darling's Story didn't hit me as hard as my other recent watches. That's definitely not a negative. The story is, like the music, warm, cozy, and snuggly. It's safe. There's no intense conflict here. It's all about the developing feelings and relationship between two different yet similar people.

I was surprised at the amount of risqué scenes we got. That might push away some viewers, but honestly they did it mostly tastefully in my opinion.

It gets a bit intense, especially by episode 11. However, it makes sense in the story. It makes sense in their relationship. It's more romantic and cute than provocative. That being said, it being more romantic and intimate had a stronger effect on me, personally. Certainly got my heart racing and my face warm. I constantly had to pause the thing to compose myself.

Speaking of relationships. Marin and Gojo's is really good. Gojo is instantly attracted to Marin. I mean, of course he would be, but because of that he doesn't realize that his feelings for her are more than just his physical attraction towards her. Being sheltered for his entire life means he never really had the opportunity to explore these emotions. He keeps his distance because he thinks his reaction towards her might be disrespectful.

Marin on the other hand likes to tease Gojo. She recognizes Gojo is super awkward and enjoys messing with him a bit. However, she quickly develops real feelings towards him, realizes them right away, and ACCEPTS them. We don't get the typical "Oh no! I can't be in love! No!" denial that's common in these kinds of things. It's not absent. She has this reaction for like 5 minutes before she accepts that she REALLY loves the guy.

What's amazing is... they don't let this overwhelm their personalities. Gojo's world doesn't revolve around Marin. He isn't obsessed or constantly worrying about her. Same with Marin. She doesn't turn into some lovesick person. I'm especially happy with how she's written since she knows she likes Gojo, but it doesn't change how she acts around him very much. She even spends time away from him from time to time, and Gojo spends time away from her too and it's no big deal. Sure there's times they get into excitable situations, but for the most part they're normal towards each other, and those situations happen nearly organically. It's such a nice change of pace from shows where the protagonists are downright obsessed with each other.

Marin's personality is so good. She's a bit extra, but endearing and you always know she means well. It makes sense that she is comfortable with cosplaying and showing some skin considering her part-time work. She's just casual about it, but she has her own limits.

Marin's casual attitude clashes well with Gojo's reserved attitude. It sets up really cute sequences between the two of them. I love how focused Gojo can be. He's so passionate about what he does that he can get in the zone and forget how awkward he is. His heart is so pure! And, amazingly, it doesn't make him bland at all... or he's so bland that he's interesting. I'm glad that they keep him grounded too.

A criticism I have about the story, is that background characters don't get enough play. Nowa, especially. Maybe she gets more time in the manga. Maybe she'll get more time in season 2, but you see her like twice and don't get to know her. Juju and Shinju get like 2 or 3 episodes and disappear. I know we have to focus on Gojo and Marin, but it feels like we missed out on getting to know others more.

Another criticism is how they backed off from the school life aspect. In episode 1 and 2 specifically, we see that there's social hierarchy bullshit in the school. People take advantage of Gojo's doormat personality. People gossip about Gojo and Marin because Gojo is the designated weirdo loner... that disappears. We see them hanging out at school, but we stop seeing any consequence of their friendship rippling through the school social hierarchy thing.

In a way, it's pleasant not to deal with that... but why introduce that with no payoff? I guess it sort of works, because it ends with Marin herself saying, "(who cares if they think we're going out?) Why DON'T we go out!?" And this is before she realizes she has feelings for him.

I'm biased because this show feels taylor made (hehe) for me. A guy with an uncommon interest having a hard time making friends. A guy insanely passionate about perfecting his art. A guy finding validation. All of these mattered more to me than him finding love. The most important line in this show, to me, was, "I appreciate you." I didn't really cry in this show... but I'm getting teary eyed thinking of that line right now.To be appreciated for what you can offer. It's a hell of a thing

[fragileizywriting]

the bakery across the street had a beautiful stained glass display on its main window, based on the elken deer that peruses the forest behind marinette’s cottage. the elk is known for its strength; the deer is known for its vitality; it’s by no means uncommon to believe that the elken deer, then, is known for its perseverance— it is a signal of the family that resides inside and takes great care of the bakery within. the mosaic was made by the son, who had learned to use glass in a creative way from his father, who had learned how to make glass in the first place by his father…

the bakery had a beautiful stained glass window. ‘had’, as in, not presently, because marinette has managed to sink a hole bigger than a carriage’s wheel right into the face of the innocent animal that could do nothing but watch its end approach with that one single eye, all on complete accident.

marinette, of course, is known for her miracles. a true miracle, isnt it, how skilled she is? dead shot through the animal’s ‘skull’, what an impressive feat. she’s always been known for her aim.

the culprit: her shop across the street is a witch’s shop, filled with potions and spells and brewery. one such spell, she had in her cauldron as she spoke with a patron; a dryad’s foot, a temperamental thing, boiling away in a soup of spices. the smoke it produces constantly suffocates like a veil, and chat had been smart to keep the front door open to let the shop air out. the miasma had been a selling factor to many who are touring in the village, interested in a small-like charm or two… but a single fireball had managed to escape from the lip of her cauldron, firing over the shelves of the shop, missing everyone by a good two or three heads— it had even arced out of the shop entirely, somehow making it clean through the open door, and smacking into the bakery’s window.

marinette could cry, holding her mouth hostage with how she presses her fingers against her lips and gasps.

“i am so sorry,” she says, already using as much magic as possible to replace the shards. the mosaic has splintered in tiny little spider’s webs, which is not something a friendly bakery should have— with magic blistering out of her palms, she picks up each piece and carefully stitches the vitrine right back up. even the baker looks perplexed, but does nothing but comb his beard with his fingers as he watches her work.

“better the deer than my family,” he mumbles. marinette can’t finish fast enough, ready to hide in her bed for the rest of the year. “you look more shocked than i!”

“it really wasn’t my intention—”

“i’m aware,” the baker laughs. “but this is very much an anticipated problem, being right in front of your shop.”

they’d kept a nearby sign next to the mosaic, an advertisement for a new price of a loaf, hammered into the wall with a single nail. in the explosion, it’d fallen, tack and all; chat had been the one to catch the sign before it’d blown off in the wind. underneath his clawed foot, the ad is unlegible.

“well,” chat remarks, reaching down to uncrinkle the paper. “looks like we can finally afford to by some bread, m’lady.”

“why— what was that?”

“the price ‘dropped’,” he replies, swift and dead, trying to get her to smile.

[thistransient]

In the end, after all that fuss about Typhoon Doksuri, the trip to 屏東 was unanimously cancelled and we parties involved ended up meeting yesterday in Taipei instead. Now Typhoon Khanun (ขนุน, jackfruit) is upon us, whose effect (on the north, at least) seems inverse to the amount of attention I was paying to it. Today I noticed public transport is reduced, some flights cancelled, and judging by the amount of dead fish on the bike path, the riverside park was flooded at some point. Pro: the temperature is down enough to go for walks during the day Con: might get blown away while doing so

I feel both very stagnant in life right now, and also as though time is passing in a slippery blur. I haven't gone to any shibari/繩縛 events in a while after sustaining some mild nerve damage which still hasn't resolved itself- it doesn't impact my quality of life in any significant way but it still felt like a wake-up call to the real level of risk involved (and underscored that I'm really not into 責縄/semenawa). I also had a kind of silent falling out with someone I considered a close friend- I could not be arsed to arrange our next meeting and figured I'd let him take the initiative and he just...has not. Maybe he's of the same attitude and is waiting for me to contact him, I don't know. Lately I just want to go become a hermit in the forest (were it not for the mosquitos), so who knows how long this will go on.

I need to change something in my life (no, repotting my plants does not count). I want to be employed and financially independent, get residency, and have health insurance again. It's not that I've never achieved these things, it's that it's always been a struggle to maintain them (especially all at once), and I am plagued by the fear of failure and rejection (as are many people, I suppose). However, I am approaching the tipping point wherein the guilt at inaction will outweigh the fear of action.

I think I also need to be constantly learning new things to feel fulfillment in life, and while I'm still working on Chinese on my own, the instant gratification of language learning tends to decline as one departs from the thrill of being able to order a meal or have a chit-chat and descends into advanced subtleties generally encountered in solitude while reading. Well, for me at least. I do get a kick out of figuring out puns, but there comes a point where language itself becomes much less relevant than the task at hand- ie: being more relieved that I had finally gotten my bank card unlocked than excited about the fact that I was able to complete the process in Chinese. This is when I get bored and go in pursuit of novelty. I used to think it was some sort of moral shortcoming, or damning judgement of my attention span, but now I'm more inclined to believe it's a normal human feature and learning a new language every few years is not the worst thing I could be doing with my time on this earth.

That is to say, stagnant as I may feel, I do have a direction, I just need to commence.

[mystery-moose]

EYO THE OSCAR NOMS ARE OUT

Let’s discuss!

BEST PICTURE: I've seen four of the ten nominees this year! Not a bad score for me. Of the remainder I am very interested in American Fiction, Anatomy of a Fall, and Past Lives. American Fiction in particular got Jeffrey Wright a Best Actor nomination! I love Jeffrey Wright! He deserves more recognition! Any film that can get him that has gotta be worth something.

Of the ones I’ve seen… I’d probably select Killers of the Flower Moon as the best? It’s a hard watch, but the craft on display at every level is exceptional. If not that, then… I dunno, maybe Barbie? The Holdovers is a safe choice, it’s a great movie, but there’s almost nothing… surprising about it. Barbie is CONSTANTLY surprising! But it’s also a madcap comedy bathed in metaphor so… man I don’t know!

Regardless, I wouldn’t pick Oppenheimer. Not to disrespect it, I genuinely believe it to be a very interesting film that’s compelling to watch, and as always Christopher Nolan’s ability to make weird-ass films with experimental structures popular with a mass audience is worthy of tremendous respect. But its pacing is rushed, its script is sometimes awkward to the point of parody, and I just don’t know that it’s saying or doing anything THAT interesting or enlightening about the real people involved or about people or history in general. Y’know?

BEST DIRECTOR: Nothing but Best Picture nominees here, which makes sense. Pretty blown away that Alexander Payne didn't get a nom here for The Holdovers. Not blown away at all that Greta Gerwig didn't get one for Barbie, despite that whole thing clearly being her baby. A real Streisand situation here, I'd say! "Eight nominations on the shelf, did this film direct itself?" Regardless of who wins (or even who I think deserves to!) I'd definitely say Gerwig got snubbed here.

BEST ACTOR: All best picture nominees here, save for Colman Domingo for Rustin. Had never heard of this film before, because it's a Netflix film and they always bury all their work, but it's about a civil rights activist so that makes... how many years that the Academy has included one of these in a Best Actor/Actress context? Selma, Harriet, Judas and the Black Messiah. I'm sure Colman Domingo gives a good performance, just noting that the Academy loves to nominate these for acting awards and not honor them in most any other way. (Hey, Jeffrey Wright's in that movie too! Good year for him!)

Bradley Cooper's here too. I don't think I like him very much! I've never disliked him really, but I've never loved his performance either. But the Academy seems to, since he's been nominated... TWELVE TIMES? Holy SHIT no wonder I wasn't surprised to see his name. Never won one, though. He keeps this up, maybe they'll throw him a pity one like they did for DiCaprio. Then again, I don't think Cooper assigns as much value to it as Leo did -- or at least, it doesn't feel like it. I care so little about Bradley Cooper! I don't follow his personal journey very closely! He's fine, I guess!

As a fan, I'd LOVE to see Jeffrey Wright take it, even though I haven't seen his movie. Of the ones I have, Cillian Murphy is very good in Oppenheimer, no question, but I've gotta give it to my man Paulie G. Dude is an incredibly talented actor with a non-traditional look who's done great work for decades and deserves a big win. He's fantastic in Holdovers too! It's a layered, funny, incredibly natural performance that he just falls into. Not particularly showy, which lowers his chances for a win, but to me (and most sensible folks) that makes it a better performance, so there, nyeh!

BEST ACTRESS: I haven't seen four of these but if they don't give it to Lily Gladstone they've fucked up. Sorry, other nominees, that's all there is to it. Also, where the fuck is Margot Robbie? She's incredible in Barbie! If I get to Supporting Actor and Ryan Gosling is there, this is misogyny.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: This is misogyny!! But I'd love for Gosling to win for this. It'd be his first, and for a role like this that'd be hilarious. That being said it's still a tremendous performance! His commitment to the role both on-screen and off is clear, he's having a ball throughout, and he does his own dancing! God, I just wanna see his speech.

That being said, he has some extremely stiff competition. De Niro continues his golden year renaissance with an excellent performance of a very evil man in Killers of the Flower Moon, and Downey Jr. is so good in Oppenheimer that it took me a couple minutes and a scene transition to realize it was him at all! Also Sterling K. Brown and Mark Ruffalo are here! I like both those guys! If I had to pick one that I've seen that isn't Gosling? Probably Downey Jr. If I gave Oppenheimer one award, it would be this one.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: I like all these actresses, I think America Ferrera is very good in Barbie, and Jodie Foster has been doing great work lately, but this award belongs to Da'Vine Joy Randolph. She takes a character that could be one note in The Holdovers and invests them with so much life and complexity and history. I still think about that movie in part because of her, and because she made choices that made that character feel more authentic. It's maybe the most I've been impressed by an actress in a good long while, frankly! She deserves this one! Don't fuck it up, Academy! (but I know you will)

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY: All Best Picture nominees, save for a movie called May December... because it's a Netflix film, of course. God, they sure do make a lot of award-worthy films I never ever hear about, huh! Wild how that happens! (Did you even know a new Spy Kids movie came out this year? Of course you didn't! It was on Netflix!)

I haven't seen four of these, but heard good things about Past Lives. I do really love The Holdovers though! Unless one of the others really knocks my socks off, I'd be comfortable with that winning here.

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: Oppenheimer does not deserve this. I'm sorry, maybe it's a failure of editing, but the pacing on this thing is too breakneck. Maybe that's a failure of editing more than screenplay, though. Then again, the dialogue itself is uh... often pretty blunt and borderline silly, in that Nolan sort of way! So, y'know!

I'd love to see Barbie win it. It's so fucking funny, and occasionally vibrating with pathos. But I haven't seen the others, and they might rule, actually! American Fiction might be great! I'm looking forward to finding out when it hits digital!

ANIMATED FEATURE: I still think we probably shouldn't cordon these off into their own category, but then so few would get nominated for anything, so let's just live in the world we have, huh? The Boy and the Heron is a Miyazaki film, so that automatically makes it a contender, though I've heard some mixed things about it. Nimona is a dark horse that I remember having some buzz around it earlier this year, and Robot Dreams is a sad movie about a robot so it's automatically a movie I vibe with! Elemental... exists! (Why in the hell was this nominated and not Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem?! Why of all things did THAT get snubbed?!)

But we all know this belongs to Across the Spider-Verse. It might not be a complete narrative, but purely on visual spectacle alone, it should win. It is, without question, the wildest eyeball experience I've ever had watching a movie, finally dethroning the previous occupiers, the Wachowskis' Speed Racer and the animated film Redline. It is constantly visually surprising and experimental, to the point that much like its predecessor I don't know how they fucking did some of the stuff they did. It's not the out-of-nowhere immediate game-changer that its predecessor was, and it might not have the immediate influence on an entire genre in the same way... but I think it pushes the medium even further! I can't wait to see what other movies look like in the future because of it.

(also the production sounds like it was a nightmare, animators deserve more pay and more respect, unionize, etc.)

PRODUCTION DESIGN: I mean, of all the things about Napoleon, how it looked was the absolute best of them. I wouldn't be too upset if it won... except I would, because Barbie. I mean, come on. COME ON. This one's a gimme. (Though why is The Creator not here? I know it was a pretty bad movie, but the design? Absolutely impeccable vibes!)

COSTUME DESIGN: I mean. Barbie. Did you see Ken's outfits?

CINEMATOGRAPHY: This is my nerd-ass award I care about. I've liked Hoyte van Hoytema's work in the past, and if Oppenheimer won this I wouldn't think it a complete miscarriage of justice -- it's got some really great images in it. But to me this is Flower Moon's award to lose. I haven't seen the others, but I don't know that anything else is going to match that. It's not too showy, but it is pretty damn impeccable.

There are also movies that I think got snubbed here, like John Wick 4 (yes I'm serious) and Sisu (again, I'm serious) and The Killer. Heck, they didn't even nominate The Holdovers here, and that movie leans into its period setting by aping the cinematography of films from that period! That's neat!

EDITING: That Oppenheimer is here is more proof the Academy doesn't know what good editing is. I mean, if you isolated a couple scenes of that movie, there IS great editing there! And even structurally, I think it makes some bold choices that should be rewarded! But as a whole, I didn't feel like I had time to breathe during a scene, and most of that is down to Nolan always choosing to cut or transition too soon. Sometimes it's even a matter of seconds! But those seconds matter! They're the difference between me feeling like I'm moving through a room and feeling like I'm being hurried through a room, y'know what I mean?

I'd probably go with Flower Moon here, but Holdovers has a lovely, languid pace to it and some very funny cuts, so I'm leaning in that direction too. Haven't seen the others!

MAKEUP AND HAIRSTYLING: How is Barbie not here?! What the hell kind of award show is this?! (A Bad one, we all know this.)

SOUND: (This used to be two awards, one for sound mixing and one for sound editing, and on a technical level those are two very different skills, but whatever, Academy!)

This is one I think that Oppenheimer will probably take, because it does some cool things with sound a few times. But it's also one that I think The Creator might actually deserve. Some really killer sound in that film, right up there with its production design -- which it should have gotten a nomination for! Also, Mission: Impossible dark horse, just to give it something. Because I love those movies, even if this year's was maybe my fourth-favorite Mission: Impossible movie that still makes it better than most movies!

VISUAL EFFECTS: It's kind of a long-shot, but I'm pulling for Godzilla Minus One here. Guardians looked good, The Creator looked good (it's about all it did) and I absolutely adore and respect the commitment to practical stunts and car chases and effects in Mission: Impossible and it should get all the recognition possible for throwing a real train off a real cliff... but c'mon. It's Godzilla. And by all accounts, it does so much with so little, at least in terms of budget. It's a movie directed by a guy who previously supervised visual effects! Of course it was gonna look good! That it looks that good at that budget though? Might be enough to get it the big win. Here's to hoping! It'd be nice to see a movie that cost about ten million dollars be recognized as having better visual effects than a movie that cost... two hundred and fifty million Jesus Christ what are you doing Disney.

ORIGINAL SCORE: Be neat to see Indiana Jones take this one! Good score, nice but not too reverent. But I don't have particularly strong feelings this like I have in previous ones. Don't remember many movie scores from this year, nothing's made it into my playlist beyond a couple Mission: Impossible tracks, certainly nothing's impressed me as much as something like The Batman's score or anything.

ORIGINAL SONG: Two songs from Barbie here, one from the Flamin' Hot Cheetos movie (yes it's real and yes it's historically inaccurate!) and one from... Killers of the Flower Moon. Uh oh. Uh oh! I was all ready to be ride or die for "I'm Just Ken" (and to be clear if it won I wouldn't object) but that song in Flower Moon and how it hits at the end... well. It should probably win, is what I'm saying. Even if it's not the fun choice. Be nice to see it performed, at least. These will all be great performances, probably!

DOCUMENTARY FEATURE: I haven't seen any of these! I usually don't until at least year or two after the fact! Just how I end up watching documentaries, usually. It'll probably be the one about Ukraine, though. Not necessarily because it's the best one, but because the Academy likes to think that making picks like that is somehow activism. (Also can you believe that's still happening? Ukrainian sovereignty, end the war, etc.)

INTERNATIONAL FEATURE: Haven't seen any of these, but heard good things about Society of the Snow. Zone of Interest is a best picture nominee, so odds are that'll be the one that wins. Surprised a Japanese film got in here but it's not Godzilla! Damn! Was hoping for a dark horse win for Big G!

ANIMATED SHORT: Never seen 'em!

DOCUMENTARY SHORT: Most of the short documentaries I watch are on Youtube these days!

LIVE ACTION SHORT: Good for all these people who got nominated!

THAT'S IT hoo boy the Oscars, huh. This year's a bit of a dull one, nothing that I'm really excited about winning anything outside of like, Barbie. Killers of the Flower Moon definitely deserves a lot of awards, but how many it'll get remains to be seen. Also I just realized DiCaprio didn't score a nomination for his part in that! Just Lily Gladstone! Haha! Good! (Though I do think DiCaprio's work has improved noticeably after he finally got his stupid Oscar. Almost like he stopped trying so hard and that made his performances feel more natural! Wild!)

Anyway, next year I'm gonna be stumping hard for Dune 2 so. Be prepared for that.

[slytherinshua]

I seem to remember watching spirited away when I was really young, but I hated it for some reason? I think that I may have found it slightly scary lol. I then watched Howl's last year and was instantly blown away by the art style and animation! I started watched castle in the sky with my friend during class once lol, but the WiFi always would cut out around 4pm so we never finished it in class lol. He has recommended that I should watch Kiki's and Princess Mononoke too. I think I've seen people talk about Ponyo, is that a studio Ghibli too?

I'm actually so excited!! I am glad it's only 2 weeks away, I don't think I'd be able to wait any longer lol. It's inevitable that they'd be enlisting at some point, but I don't want it to be so soon 😭. But also at the same time, the sooner it's done the better! I'm so glad that Yechan and Sangyeop have already completed theirs though, at least it won't be everyone going away at once! (I'm so glad I'm not a Korean male though, just the thought of having military service constantly looming over me scares me so much, I wouldn't survive a day in the military lol)

I'm still going through all of Hyunsang's music, but it's been so good so far!! Although I will admit, I did have to stop listening for a bit because it was so melancholic and I needed to cheer myself up before I had to meet up with friends lol (I needed all the positive energy that I could gather to get me through a very social dinner lol). I am still ready to hunt down whoever hurt this precious man if you are ahaha

that makes sense cause spirited away does have a lot of kinda creepy things in it lmao but it's seriously such a masterpiece!!! yes princess mononoke is so good too!! i'm not feral for ashitaka i promise (lies just look at him)

yes its ghibli as well!! i literally grew up watching totoro or ponyo every single day like that's the only thing i would ever want to watch and i never got tired of them lmao.

yeah... it sucks but at least it'll be over with soon and they'll be back :( i heard some walwals say that the 4 birds in the birdcage are like 2 staying and 2 leaving.... aka military :(( LIKE OMG STOP 😭😭😭 no that's so real like the thought terrifies me??? cause i have no strength in my body idk how they do it like damn... navy scares me even more cause the ocean SCARES me SDKJSD

yeah no i'm right there with you... i can't listen to hyunsang some days cause i will get so sad and just cry 😭😭😭 like i'm listening to his covers rn and i just love how before he starts singing he takes a deep breath and idk his eyes look so sad i just feel like he holds so much emotion and feeling in his body and you can really tell how he perfectly executes that in his music :( every song of his is just so incredible </3 (that's why i like listening to his osts sometime to get a break from the emo music lmao i swear that's the only time you'll hear him singing upbeat love songs) i'm ready whenever i would die for him istg WHO HURT HIM 🦅🦅🦅 idk whether to be thankful or sad cause without it i wouldn't have any of my favourite songs but still.... hyunsang :( ugh he's so perfect his voice is EVERYTHING

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

✨✨✨✨✨ANGEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! ✨✨✨✨✨

Okay hiii ~~ I’m dumping all these thoughts on you so be prepared 🤭

So like I said in my last message, I’ve been a very dark place recently where everything seems like it’s constantly hitting, but after asking for your advice, I took it to heart and really followed if, finding it really did help taking it one tiny step at a time with the simplest things. Life is still throwing every little shit it can find at me, but I’m dealing with it much much better, and I feel like I owe you some thanks to that, so again, I don’t think I can ever tell you how much I appreciate you and enjoy your presence!! I never got to respond to it, but I read your post recently and felt like this was more important to respond first.

Two, I’m so saddened to hear you’re feeling a bit lost about the writing and fandom. I haven’t been on much trying to focus on my self so I don’t know much, but when I do check in every now and then, it does seem… quiet? I hope and think it’ll liven up the closer it comes to June. But regardless of that—

I ADORE YOUR WRITING. Your writing is some of the most thought-provoking, emotional pieces I’ve read, and it truly shows and reflects just how much heart and soul you put into it. I’ll be honest, there’s some times when I can’t read certain fics of yours because I’m not mentally in the right headspace for some, but— to me— it just reflects on how great and impactful your writing is!!! Idk if u remember, and this was when I newly started following you so I was like extra super nervous and shy lol, but the person that requested the jealous Ettore was me. I think I remember sending an anon back and thanking you bc I was impressed and thankful you accepted it, but also I was so shy my hands were shaking the entire time so it was a bit blurry lol. I remember literally fangirling and gushing to my two friends (one who doesn’t even care about Ewan lmao) about how I was so impressed and blown away by it!! Your Ettore series had me hooked (AND IM STILL NOT OVER HOW IT ENDED— I WILL NEVER RECOVER. I will sue you for my emotional damages 🥺)! The Aemond one where after a toxic relationship, the reader tries to escape and he doesn’t let her literally made me want to wallow in the despair. And the Michael Gavey one where I basically wrote an essay of how much I loved it is still one I think about way too much for it to be healthy— plus it’s given me some really crazy dreams 🤭 Those are just my top three! Much to say, I adore your writing. I adore the commitment and dedication you give and feed us. And most importantly, I adore you. Although selfishly I hope you continue, I hope you know no matter what you ever decide to do, I’ll always support and follow. I am a la loyal after all 🤭😂

In all seriousness, I hope life is treating you well, and i hope you’re being kind to yourself. I’m sending all my love and support!! Please stay safe and healthy. Much much much love to you, Ange 🩶🩶🩶

-Hannah Montana anon.

Post Scriptum:: this was insanely long and completely manic-produced, I am so so sorry !! ✨

I am so glad that my advice has helped a little and things are starting to improve for you. I hope they continue to get better!

I had no idea your were my jealous Ettore anon! I had so much fun writing that, thank you for sending it! And thank you for the kind words, they truly mean a lot. You have never been anything but kind and supportive to me, and I hope you realise how appreciated it is!

I've no plans to deactivate this blog. I enjoy reading other people's fics, and looking at all the pretty gifs. I just need to do something for myself that makes me feel better about my own creative output. I've no idea what that is yet, but I will figure it out!

Thank you for taking the time to check in. I hope the rest of your week is a good one. Sending so much love to you! xoxo

[bellewintersroe]

Love your work!! Was wondering if i can request a BoB ship if not thats ok!

I’ve got dirty blond hair and dark blue eyes. I’m really pale but cant tan as i get burnt. But love being out in the sun. I’m around 5’7. I can act innocent but im really not, I’ve got a bright personality but am a people pleaser, it’s a bad habit of mine. I love being stubborn but my parents hate it. Honestly im a bit lazy but love to bake. I prefer to dress girly, like dresses and skirts but i still love my ripped jeans and combat boots. I love spending time with my friends and am constantly seeing them. I always fly to my dads every holidays. I value respect, trust and honesty such as “stab my back and ill stab yours”. I love to visit QLD because im Aussie but i always ask if we can travel somewhere. I love opal hunting, ice skating and i can rollerblade really well. I’ve been a netballer for 6 years and im a libra

Thank you if you decide to do me!! <33

thank you so much for your request, you sound like such an interesting person!! <3

I ship you with… Joe Liebgott!

First of all I think Joe would think you’re absolutely beautiful. Like an actual Angel with your blonde hair and blue eyes.

he’d for sure call you a ‘doll’ and if Barbie was released in the 1940’s he would 1000% nickname you Barbie doll.

But anyway, Joe would be the type that if you walked past he’d go ‘wowwwww’ and slap his buddy on the arm. (Probably wouldn’t tell them about his crush on you at first because he doesn’t like competition as confident as he may try to act).

maybe you’d get into a conversation about being sunburnt? Like you, Joe doesn’t tan very well, he usually just burns, so it’s a good conversation starter, he’d probably tease you that you were blushing over him, but in reality your cheeks are just sunburnt!

overtime I think you’d persuade him to take care of his skin in the sun, and give him sun burn to take care of him. He’s in complete awe, and isn’t afraid to call you his girl super early on.

your bright personality mixed with your beauty is astonishing for Joe- he doesn’t want to wait to call you his and he falls extremely hard and fast for you.

Maybe if he’s only used to seeing you in more comfortable clothes, he’s blown away to see you so girly!!! He adores that you love to dress up, and he probably can’t keep his hands off you, waist, hands, hips, butt, boobs- he loveeeeeesssss your boobs.

very respectful at first, won’t lay a finger on you unless you make it clear to him/ ask him to.

This might be a little confusing at first? Bcs he’s saying all these lovely things to you, but he seems nervous to hold your hand?!

When he honestly opens up about being a little nervous on one of your early dates, it’s a huge green flag and I think he recognises how much you value honesty.

might go a little too far with the honesty and call you a people pleaser, it can be a bit upsetting, but Joe just wants the best for you and hates himself after something slips out of his mouth wrong.

After the war, Joe is keen to settle down with you and start a family- he never considered the prospect of travelling before?! Seeing so many parts of Europe during the war put him off for a little while, but I think with some persuasion you can start to show him the good in the world again.

He’d beg you for babies.

accidentally would stare at your boobs and your friends might notice this oops- but he makes really good friends with your friends. As you do with his friends, which I think would be super important for the two of you.

if you think you’re stubborn then you’ve got a whole new thing coming with Joseph Liebgott. He’s the KING of stubbornness. But just flash him some puppy eyes or pout and you can easily get your way.

“Awww, kid, don’t look at me like that, you know I can’t say no…”

As a libra it’s stated you can ‘smooth out the peace’ which I think is very fitting to say you’d be in a relationship with Liebgott.

Super fun and romantic relationship, I think he’d enjoy anything with you, whether that be walking around or just lounging in bed together. I think he needs a lot of quality time with you, and that’s his love language.

finds your accent so sexy, probably forgets to listen because he’s that taken away with how hot you are.

would flirt sooooo fucking good with you, especially once he’s had a couple to drink, he’s got you wrapped around his little finger when he’s being a flirtatious little devil.

needs cuddles and reassurance when he’s feeling down. Either that or it comes out as frustration, but he loves you so dearly he hates taking things out on you, so I think he’s super careful and doesn’t do this a whole lot.

loves you dearly and he’s super protective over you, but not in an overbearing way.

Probably tries to come ice skating once or twice- bur he prefers to watch with a soft smirk on his face about how proud he is that he got with you.

Can’t skate, nonono, it would be hilarious to watch- like Bambi on ice.

but yeah, a genuinely fun relationship, there’s a lot of respect and understanding of each others boundaries; and I think your personalities would make way for a super genuine and enjoyable relationship.