#i don't know how to Process or cope with anything like this

[discordiansamba]

Wait so at some point everyone learns that Noctis is Rin? Only from the future? GOD I’m a sucker for reveals I wanna know how that goes down. It obviously can’t be good. Knowing that you and all of your friends are DEAD? How do you even cope with that?

How do Rin and Yukio cope with that???? Knowing that there’s another version of you that you’ve been calling dad for years and that your dad is also your older brother AND you’re dead in the future.

Even Shiro…UGH it’s so juicy

Oh, they absolutely find out eventually!

The first one to piece it together isn't Rin, or even Yukio- they're too close, and they've gone their whole lives looking at Noctis as their father. No, the first one to realize is Suguro- because all he can think about his how much sixteen year old Noctis looked like Rin. How he basically didn't exist before the Blue Night. How easily he calms Rin down and helps him control his flames in the moment, and the way he talks to him about them.

("They're your flames, not Satan's," Noctis tells him, "-you can't be afraid of them. Accepting them is the first step in getting control of them."

"Don't worry," Noctis says, "-I know you can do it!")

Suguro just stares at him. Noctis is Rin. He has to be. It's the only thing that makes sense, but that means... if he's here, then something bad must have happened. Something so awful, that Mephisto didn't even bat an eye at letting someone from the future stay in the past. He thinks about the way Noctis has always worried about them, right from the start- way more than an ordinary teacher.

...what the hell happened in the future?

Noctis looks up, and catches his eye. He knows in that moment, that Suguro has connected the dots and knows who he is- or was. He just lifts a finger to his lips and grins. Not yet, okay? Give his kids some time to process the children of Satan reveal first, thanks. He'll tell them the rest eventually.

(and he knows Suguro won't say anything yet, because he knows Suguro, still. even after all these years.)

Noctis can't stick around, though he really wants to- the world is in chaos, and he needs to help. Rin's not alone in the revelation of his heritage and power this time- he has everyone with him. As afraid as he was when he first saw him burst into flame, he gets the feeling that everything is going to be alright even if the timing couldn't possibly be worse.

the final battle with Satan and the Illuminati is drawing closer and closer... but he can't fail this time. he won't fail. if he has his way, the kids won't even see the battlefield in the arctic, but he's also prepared to handle it if they do. he's not letting any of them die this time.

(on the battlefield in the arctic, the exwires are still tasked by mephisto with the mission of helping neuhaus launch a sneak attack against satan. he arranges for a force to launch a direct assault against satan, consisting of four arc knights and the paladin- but also noctis, to the confusion of those who only know him as a middle first class exorcist.

on his belt, he wears kurikara.

one last time, he'll go into battle as okumura rin.)

[heybaetae]

.

[eddiesgmcsierra1500denali]

okay so let's just recap what happened. maddie tells buck he should try making new friends because he's not coping well with his only friend eddie being gone. so buck tries to make friends with eddie's replacement, looking like a complete loser in the process, due to he doesn't know how to make friends and eddie's just a freak disguised as a pretty cool and normal dude. they manage to settle on an activity that eddie should probably not haunt (drinking) except for that buck is really intent on making sure eddie haunts everything and everyone so he spends the entire time talking about how he is eddie's princess and eddie is soooo good at stuff and has never done anything wrong in his life and he's so much fun, let's play this drinking game he taught me! ravi who is sick of this forcibly inserts tommy in his place and gets the hell out of there before buck can say eddie's name a billionth time. tommy doesn't really get what he's supposed to be doing there and doesn't give a shit until he learns that eddie is gone, upon which he Turns It On and they end up going back to. well. (tommy voice) eddie's house. buck has not unpacked a single thing and is never even there so they have tequila-drunk sex on a bare mattress without sheets or anything, there is definitely no lube available so it's definitely dry as fuck, and afterwards buck (drunk, just had sex) still has the wherewithal to change into his sleepytime shirt (he doesn't take his watch off though) before falling asleep, so it probably isn't all that athletic either. in the morning buck wakes up in an empty (sheetsless) bed and is like Haha okay he probably just left! but no. tommy's in eddie's kitchen and he has cooked 1 pound of bacon and 17 eggs and an entire fruit salad and chopped up celery and carrots and also cut 4 bagels AND brought champagne. to celebrate their dry ex sex they had on buck's bare mattress in eddie's house, which by the way he thinks it's super weird that they're in eddie's house, but hee hee eddie's gone so he can ignore it and GET IN THERE!!!!! like he's been waiting to do for months apparently. then for some reason when buck asks him if he's not afraid buck will break his heart anymore he decides the best response is to be like WELL YEAH NOW THAT YOUR BEST FRIEND HAS MOVED TO A DIFFERENT STATE. YOU KNOW, BECAUSE OF HIS FAMILY FALLING APART DUE TO HIS GRIEF. YEAH HE'S OUT OF THE WAY NOW SO IT'S ALL GOOD OVER HERE. HOW ABOUT SOME BUBBLY? and buck, understandably, is weirded out, and also freaked out, but even he is like. Ummmm. first of all eddie rented this house. and he's straight. so you're wrong about my feelings for him, which neither of those things address. also i don't have feelings for you btw. and then tommy walks out, leaving buck with approximately 80 united states dollars' worth of breakfast, so he can call an uber from eddie's front porch. and he has to sit there and wait for his uber, and probably he's thinking, Wow if i told buck i was getting an uber right now, buck would probably say, "me and eddie got an uber once!"

[unfamiliaris]

what if you got stuck with a boyfriend that you don't exactly hate but don't exactly love either, but you stay with him because you've finally formed a nice friend group with your brother and his wife and then you realize ohh shit. I have a massive crush on my sister in law. so you do everything in your power to suppress it because she's your baby brothers wife and you'd do anything to keep him happy but it does start to eat away at your own relationship slowly over the years but now you're married so you're locked down for life and you try to be happy about it because you're well off and it's great. but then your sister in law that you still won't fully admit you're in love with dies horrifically and you can't grieve her like a lover because that would be selfish and wrong and also you have your baby brother to comfort now so you do. and your marriage keeps slowly spilling sand through a hole in the floor and once it runs out you know you'll hate him but you can't deal with all of this at the same time so you stick it out for your brother who is inconsolable. and in the grief your baby brother decides to go through an experimental brain surgery that will essentially allow him to cut off half of his consciousness to escape it all. and you don't think it's a good idea at all but you're not exactly going to tell him how to cope when his wife just died so there's nothing you can do. and then two years later you're pregnant and by now pretty much all the sand has fallen through the floor of your marriage but there's not much you can do anymore because you're pregnant. so you go to a birthing retreat when the time comes and you meet this stunning woman who reminds you of everything you gave up to satisfy your brother and this man you don't even really love anymore and well maybe you kind of have a crush on her. but she doesn't recognize you outside of the cabin and it doesn't even matter because you have a kid now. you're locked down. and your pretentious husband is hosting a book reading for his latest publication and you're still tired from all the post birth hormones but you decide to play nice. and then somehow your brothers other half talks to you for the first time and he's as innocent as the day he was born but then you find out that not only has your lactation consultant been your brothers evil boss this whole time but that your brothers dead wife isn't actually dead. so you try to help your brother communicate with his other half to find out if that's really true and you're trying not to hold out hope but god you miss her so bad and you need to try. and then in the span of like one hour you watch your brother have a stroke and meet his backalley brain surgeon who confirms that yes, gemma really is alive and she has been all this time. and you're trying to process that while worrying that your brother won't wake up and you hate this stupid brain surgeon lady for nearly killing your brother but she's also kind of cute and oh my god you're still married to ricken fucking hale.

[ccccatttta]

this is a random thought bc i got angsty, so!

walburga, who —in a mad attempt to stop regulus from becoming like sirius after he runs away from home—, obliviates regulus.

not completely, of course, but he makes him believe that he never had a brother in the first place. regulus is now the sole black heir and that's everything he knows; i don't put it past her to erase most of the abuse she caused, but still left enough to make him scared to disobey her.

and, like, it takes everyone too long to realize it.

first, sirius is not surprised his brother doesn't look at him anymore and pretty much pretends he doesn't exist, their bond has been severed completely to him, even if it hurts. and, well, he sort of wanted to get rid of his last name completely, so he pretty much asked everyone to not call him 'sirius black' ever again. so, how could regulus suspect anything.

then, everyone in slytherin knows not to talk about sirius in front of regulus (because he used to jinx them almost to death for that), and, sirius was officially disowned by the black family, so they do speak about regulus as the sole heir, as if sirius wasn't ever in the picture.

it's maybe pandora who finds out first.

barty and evan aren't sirius' biggest fans, and they don't like to confront regulus about how he feels, unless he's the one who wants to vent. they think that his way of coping is pretending like nothing happened, and while that's not healthy at all, regulus looks fine, super fine, even. so why would they want to interrupt his peace.

dorcas has been distancing a bit from them, because of the whole voldemort situation. she's no longer with them enough to realize regulus has been acting strange.

and pandora was a bit like evan and barty, at first. especially because, she knows regulus doesn't keep anything that's really hurting him for long. not to them. they just like to give him enough space to process and cool down. they let him come to them, and they will be waiting.

but then, regulus doesn't.

so, after a while she decides to ask him about sirius.

when regulus just answers "who's sirius?" with the most genuine and confused face on earth. she knows exactly what has happened.

i haven't thought further into it, maybe evan, barty and dora argue about what to do. the right thing would be to help him get back his memories. but regulus looks so much better without the heartbreak sirius has been unintentionally causing him since first year. and sirius seems to love his new life as the potter's ward. maybe that's the right thing.

but also, they know that, even with all the pain that he has caused him, regulus loves his brother more than anything and wouldn't want to just be forced to forget about him.

yeah. that was my random thought of the night. toodles!

[animeomegas]

Hi! Could I request maybe the reunion between shikamaru and his alpha?? Like from the shikamaru breaking down bc his alpha is late from a mission and his teacher is dead Thanks!!

I think I've written something small about this before, but I'm happy to expand on it! Enjoy <3 ( I didn't realise I'd left this in my drafts, so here you guys go while my arms are sore still haha)

"Shikamaru, you need to sleep," you said gently, holding his face in your hands. Dark circles and stress bitten lips gazed back at you as he shook his head. He had looked worse when you first got home yesterday, but thankfully, after the first hour of cuddling and crying, it had been easy to get him to take a shower with you. Unfortunately, it was not proving as easy to get him to go to sleep.

"No," he muttered, voice hoarse from crying.

"You have to sleep at some point, sweetheart," you pointed out, smoothing your thumbs over his skin. He shook his head again. "Please? For me?" There was some hesitation this time, but he still shook his head in the negative.

It had been twelve hours since you'd returned, but Shikamaru was still firmly stressed and alert, coiled like a spring at every moment, despite your and his parents' best efforts in calming him down.

He was grieving, you understood that. And then a mission had taken you away from him when he needed you the most, you understood that too. You had the greatest patience for him, but he still needed to sleep (and you would also rather like to be able to use the toilet without holding his hand.)

"Shika..."

"Don't. Please, just don't. I'm fine."

He was clearly running on fumes, but you didn't know how to make him rest, other than just letting him push himself until he collapsed. You didn't even know why he was so resistant to sleep. Did he think you would be gone when he woke up even though you had promised to the contrary countless times?

You wracked your brain desperately, as Shikamaru moved his face until it was buried in your collar bones. You idly stroked his hair, allowing your fingers to glide through the soft strands. You needed to soothe him to sleep somehow.

You focused for a moment on the sound of his mother pottering away in the kitchen. You relied on her for advice on handling Shika's obsession instinct often, but she'd been unable to suggest anything helpful this time.

You started to hum, almost without thinking, as though it was an instinct to fill the silence without words. The melody started out as nothing more than a collection of random notes, but slowly, it morphed into one of your favourite love songs.

You sang softly, still stroking Shikamaru's hair in time to the music. Your voice was a little rusty from disuse, but you pushed through the minor discomfort.

A hot tear rolled onto your neck from where Shikamaru had his face pressed. You didn't bring attention to it, you just kept singing through the ticklish sensation.

You sang that song twice before you picked a new one.

And then another.

And another.

Eventually the tears stopped flowing and Shikamaru's breaths evened out. The weight of his head increased and his limbs went completely limp as he finally succumbed to sleep.

You sang that first love song one more time, just to be sure he was truly asleep, before you joined him in unconsciousness.

There was a long way to go, to process his grief properly, to reassure him that you weren't going to leave, maybe some more desensitisation training to help him cope, but everything would feel just a little bit better once he'd had some sleep.

[gamorahww]

𝐅𝐈𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 ━ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 2. 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔

Today I'm holding space for the idea that in the context of the movie, dancing is a coping mechanism for Fiyero. While caring is a cure and a solution and an answer. I mean it is nothing new, but it needs to be said.

There will be a separate post on Dancing Through Life later today, but for now, we're starting from later. At history class, Fiyero voluntarily steps up to help the lion cub, and they make it all the way to the forest. Shortly after they are safe, and start talking, Elphaba says, "I know my life would be much easier if I didn't care, but—" and Fiyero cuts her off at exactly this point in her sentence. And I think that moment is crucial. Up until now, he’s never interrupted her before—but now he does and not because he’s frustrated with how much she talks, but because of what she’s saying. He doesn’t want to hear her talk about caring. That’s a pain point for him.

Because he knows it’s easier not to care. That’s the story he tells himself.

The lyrics in Dancing Through Life go: "Why think too hard when it's so soothing?" Soothing what? You don’t need to soothe something that doesn’t hurt. Soothing is only necessary when there’s an ache. To me this means he has cared before, and he has been hurt by caring before, and now he's coping with that by dancing through life. He is soothing his pain from secretly caring just too much, by dancing. Not because he doesn't care anymore about anything, but because he can't stop doing it, so he has to keep dancing. Dancing is loud, and visible. If he dances, people don't ask questions about his personality about what he thinks or how he feels. Maybe they haven't been doing it anyway, so he distracts them by doing his little dance, and as soon as they get too close, he pushes them away. But what he believes to be true for now is that caring = painful and dancing = a way to cope with that pain

But Elphaba just saw him care—deeply. She knows he’s capable of it. And she knows how unbearably sad it must be to choose to pretend otherwise. At the same time, she also understands how painful caring can be, she just highlighted is. In that moment, they find common ground.

But Fiyero’s façade—his carefree persona—is what he assumes people value in him most. So the second he realizes Elphaba doesn’t see him that way, he panics. He thinks that if she can see through him, it means she doesn’t want him there. No one has ever appreciated him for anything beyond the image he projects. So if that mask is gone… what’s left? Why would she still want him around, if he's not fun and happy and carefree? So he starts to leave.

And then she proves him wrong.

Not only does she say "she does (want his help)," but she physically holds onto him, keeping him there. The shock on his face (second gif from the bottom) says everything—he never expected someone to want him without the act. And later, when she touches his face so gently, you can see him struggling to process it. This is the most vulnerable he’s ever been, and it terrifies him. Not only that, but Elphaba sees a scar on his face, and sees that he has been hurt, without him noticing it. She reaches out and touches him gently, not really wanting anything, and he just can't bear it.

Her caring for him is not painful, it's soothing.

His Freudian slip a few beats later—"I better get to safety."—isn’t just about physical danger. This doesn’t feel safe. Being seen, being wanted for real, is the opposite of what he’s used to. Caring and being cared for are equally scary, but only the latter seems like a completely new experience for him. However, after feeling it, he finds something so real that he just yearns for it from now on. Yearns to be seen and touched and to be needed for something he did instinctively, without a thought, something he did because it felt right.

That’s why the later scene with Glinda is so important. When she holds his hand, the shot mirrors the moment with Elphaba—but with one key difference. Glinda is pulling him away, back into the world of pretense. But he can’t go back, not after this, and you can see him looking back at where he came from, back to the forest, back to Elphaba, back to being seen. For once, caring was not painful, and someone cared for him as well.

[o-lanterns]

Simon Petrikov the Episode... I know Simon's the star but I can't stop thinking about Finn.

Seeing firsthand just how badly his grief over Jake has messed him up. All of his progress in emotionally connecting with himself and with others essentially went down the drain. He can't process anything outside of the lens of epic questing. His idea to help Simon is to put the man in mortal danger for the purpose of rescuing him and never once considered that Simon could be seriously injured or killed, because of course Finn the Human is too strong! This is nothing to him, his job is to fight and protect. And when Simon does actually get hurt Finn shrugs it off. Ahh, that's just another battle wound, nothing fatal! It'll be a cool scar!

He is literally not coping but he thinks he's doing great. And it breaks my heart that it's all so... Martin-like of him. He cannot have back what he lost and he responds by bottling it and pushing through jovially as if unaffected, and in turn does not register anything as a true threat anymore because in his eyes nothing could be worse than what has already happened. He is all jokes and rowdy hubris and "Hey now, talkin' about sad stuff gets ya nowhere! Forget about it!"

Finn is just living thrill to thrill and clinging to distractions in between (and trying to find someone to fill the hole where Jake was- we saw him taking on Bronwyn as an adventure partner in Obsidian and now TV. but they don't stick. it's never going to be the same.) and we already know from Together Again that he will maintain this behavior until his last breath.

It's fantastic character writing but I am so distraught at the state of my boy.

[callme-holly]

Can you please do Darrel Curtis x Wife reader, like they got married shortly before the Curtis parents death and it’s just the reader staying by Darrel throughout the grieving process and Bob’s murder and Pony and Johnny going on the lamb. And he’s like ‘why did you stay with me with all the stuff going on?’ And the reader is like ‘because I love you and I made a vow’?♥️♥️

𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 - 𝐃.𝐂

a/n: im done with exams which means im back to my usual schedule!!!

The glow from the lamp in the corner does very little to diminish the shadows looming in the corners of the room, making them all the more intimidating than usual. The silence that hangs over the house is unbearable, and everything feels as if it’s been tipped on its axis and forced to cope. 

Nobody is themselves, especially not Darry; he’s been on his way to burning out for weeks, like a candle burning down to the last few centimetres of the wick, and now the flame has finally reached the bottom. He’s sat at the table, head in his hands, glaring down at the bills spread across the surface, but you can tell he's not taking in an ounce of what’s printed on the paper. There are dark shadows under his eyes, his skin is drawn and pale, and he looks so tired that it pains you.  

“Darry,” you call out, voice cutting through the stillness in the kitchen. He doesn’t look up, simply shaking his head, brushing you   and keeping his gaze downwards. “Darrel.” You try again, the finality in your tone more insistent this time, and he lifts his eyes slightly.

"Not right now, sweetheart."  His voice sounds raw from lack of use, and your heart breaks just a bit for him. You push off of the doorframe where you were leaning, stepping towards him slowly and resting your hands on his shoulders, chin on top of his head. You don't miss the way he relaxes under you, his whole body slumping  , an exhausted sigh leaving him.

"Take a break. I'll make us dinner," you offer, giving him a squeeze. He nods slowly, swallowing  , and you finally see through the mask he's been wearing ever since the boys ran off, since Bob's face landed in the papers, "MURDERED," written in bold above. Beneath that stoic facade is a man, a kid, who's been through too much too fast, and it causes something in you to tighten.

A gentle sigh leaves you, and you move round to sit yourself in his lap, not saying anything when his arms wind around your middle immediately, clutching onto you as though there might be nothing left in this world for him to cling too tight too. Your fingers trail idly through his hair, stroking it lightly. 

"They'll come back."  Your voice is soft, calm, reassuring. "They're both smart boys. They wont be gone much longer."   His only response is a nod against your chest. You know how difficult this has been for him; losing both parents, and now his little brother is something no one should ever have to go through. It's a miracle he isn't completely breaking apart by now. 

"Soda called. He's staying with Steve tonight." You don't mention why; don't tell him that it's because he can't take the silence, the emptiness, much longer.  He doesn't need to know.

"Okay," Darry whispers into your shirt before pulling back just enough to look up at you. There's something in his eyes, an almost apologetic look that makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, and your heart ache. You wish he'd just stop for a moment, lie down, sleep, rest... But asking him to do so would be futile.  No amount of begging or pleading will change his mind, especially not now.

You lean forward and catch his lips in a gentle kiss,  cupping the side of his face, thumb tracing along his jawline in a manner that's nothing but comforting. He lingers for a moment before pulling back, leaning his forehead against yours, letting out a long breath.

"I'm sorry," he mutters finally, squeezing his eyes shut. "You deserve more than this shit." You reach out and gently pull his head away, forcing his attention onto you instead of whatever he sees in his own mind.

"No. You have nothing to be sorry for," you begin, but he cuts you off sharply.

"No, hon.... I just, I don't get why you stay with me through all of this. It's just..." You watch his expression shift, becoming pensive, and your heart squeezes painfully, knowing exactly what's bothering him. 

You run your fingers through his hair again, pulling his head down so that his face is tucked in your neck once more as you rock back and forth gently.

"I'm with you because I love you, Darrel Curtis. I made a promise, a vow, to stick by you through thick and thin, and I don't break my promises."

Darry only hums in response, but you know he heard you. You know from the way he takes your hand in his rougher one, fingers lacing together, wedding rings glinting in the dim lamplight.  He squeezes softly; you're gonna be okay. Both of you. 

[untitledgoosegay]

re last reblog I do see fanfic culture pushing/replicating a certain model of "what trauma looks like," "how trauma works"

this is a problem across all areas of society obviously, but transformative works are, well, transformative. they're about crafting and modifying narratives where the fan-creator sees a flaw or a lack -- often for the better! don't get me wrong, I've done my fair share of "I take a hammer and I fix the canon," it's the main thing that gets my creative gears spinning -- but what happens when that "flaw" is simply a narrative not conforming to popular expectations?

some people just don't get PTSD from events that sound obviously traumatic. they're not masking, and they're not coping; they just straight-up didn't get the permanently-locked stress-response that defines PTSD. they walk away from a horrible experience going "well, that sucked, but it's over now." some people do get PTSD from events most people wouldn't find traumatic. we don't really know why some people get PTSD and others don't. but fandom has an idea of events that must be traumatizing, of a "correct" way to portray trauma. you see the problems with this lack of understanding in e.g. fans pressuring the devs of Baldur's Gate 3 to add dialogue where the player character badgers Halsin about his own feelings on his abuse -- because he must be traumatized, and his trauma must fit a certain mold and presentation of sexual trauma, under the mistaken impression that anything outside that narrow window is somehow "wrong" and disrespectful or even harmful to survivors.

take, for another example, the very common trope of a traumatized character who hates touch or sex "learning" to like touch or sex as a part of their healing process. certainly that can be healing for some people; other people will never like, or want, touch or sex, because of trauma or because they just don't. the assumption that someone who doesn't want sex or doesn't like to be touched must be traumatized, must be suffering from this perceived lack, is seriously harmful -- to asexual people, to people with sensory issues around touch, and to people for whom healing from trauma means freedom to refuse sex or touch.

and there's a secondary trope, one that's slightly more thoughtful but ultimately repeats the problem -- that once someone has learned that their boundaries will be respected, they'll feel it's safe to soften those boundaries. once they feel safe refusing touch or sex, they'll feel comfortable allowing it on their own terms. but many people don't, and many people won't! many people will simply never want to be touched, and never want sex, and they are not suffering or broken or lacking because of it. the idea that proving you'll respect someone's boundaries entitles you to test those boundaries -- the paradox is obvious, and yet this is something i've seen hurt (re-traumatize) people i care for.

people are imperfect victims. people don't heal in the ways you expect. many people have positive memories of their abuse, of their abusers. many people hurt others in the course of their trauma, in ways that can't easily be unpacked in a 5k oneshot. very few narratives of trauma and recovery actually fit the ones put forward by popular children's media and romance novels -- which are the ones I most see replicated in fandom spaces, because they provide the clearest narrative and easiest catharsis, and so they're easy and soothing to reach for.

that's not necessarily a bad thing! i am not immune to goopy romance tropes. i am not immune to teary catharsis. not every fic has to grapple with ugly realities. but there's a problem when these narratives become predominant, when people think they're accurate and realistic depictions of trauma, when the truth of trauma is unpleasant and uncomfortable, and doesn't fit any single narrative, let alone one of comforting catharsis

[sweetfcwn]

hii lovely! pls could i request some george angst - maybe you overhear him saying something hurtful and start to distance yourself, and how he'd cope with that/make it up to you? 🩷

the weight of words - george clarke.

this is the longest fic i've ever written and i don't think i really liked how i ended it. let me know your thoughts! <3

the night had started so simply—just a quiet evening with george and a few of his friends at a small pub you’d been to together a few times. the kind of place where the lights were low and the music was soft enough to talk over. you’d nestled yourself in a corner booth, nursing a drink while george and his friends gathered around, their voices rising and falling in the typical banter-filled way.

you’d excused yourself to the bathroom, not wanting to hover in the group’s conversation, but when you returned, the words hit you like a cold slap in the face.

“i don’t even know why i’m with her anymore,” george’s voice rang out from across the pub, his tone harsher than usual, enough for you to catch it despite the background noise. your heart dropped into your stomach. he was talking about you. "she’s always on my case. nothing i do is ever good enough for her, and i’m so fucking tired of it."

your breath hitched, and you froze in place. you didn’t want to listen, but you couldn’t help yourself. the next words were even worse.

“i think i might just be with her out of convenience at this point. it’s easier than being alone, right? at least she’s not some needy psycho like the others.”

your world felt like it was crumbling in real-time. you had to blink twice to even process what you had just heard. you didn’t know if you were more hurt by the words or by the indifference with which he spoke them. there was no hesitation, no sign that he realised just how deeply those words would cut. to him, it sounded like just another frustration to vent about, not a death sentence to your heart.

you didn’t even realise how much time had passed as you stood there, frozen, until someone brushed past you in the crowded space. a wave of nausea swept over you. without thinking, you turned on your heel and left, slipping out of the pub into the cold night air. the coolness against your skin did nothing to numb the burning ache in your chest.

days passed. you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to his calls or read his texts. you needed time to process what you had heard, and more than that, you needed distance. every time you closed your eyes, you heard his words ringing in your head. they were still fresh, like a wound that couldn’t heal.

george, on the other hand, felt completely off balance. he could sense something was wrong, the distance between you both growing with each passing day. you hadn’t responded to anything. his calls went unanswered, his messages ignored. there was no clear sign of what had happened—just the silence. the guilt gnawed at him, and the more time passed, the more confused and frustrated he became. he didn’t know exactly what he had done wrong, but he knew something had shifted, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

he tried to remember the last time you two had shared a moment that felt like things were okay. he couldn’t recall anything that could explain why things felt so off. the conversations, the laughter, they’d all seemed fine. he had no clue what had caused the sudden rift between you two, but it unsettled him more than anything.

he’d never been the best at dealing with confrontation. when things were good, he was fine. but now, with the silence stretching between you, he couldn’t help but wonder if you were just pulling away, if maybe he had done something without even realising it. the thought unsettled him, and the more he tried to think it through, the more confused he became.

it wasn’t until a week later that george decided he had to do something, anything. the distance between you was unbearable. he couldn’t stand how much he missed you, how much he was beginning to regret whatever it was that had gone wrong. he couldn’t focus, his mind replaying every conversation, every moment spent with you, searching for the thing that had caused this.

he showed up at your flat late one evening, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air before he knocked. his chest tightened, the weight of not knowing what to say pressing on him.

you answered the door, looking like you had been expecting him. your arms were crossed, your posture defensive.

“i—i’ve been an idiot,” george said, his voice shaky, but filled with more sincerity than he’d been able to express. “i don’t know what happened, but whatever i did... i’m sorry. i don’t want to lose you. please... talk to me.”

you didn’t speak right away. you just stared at him, and george could feel the tension in the air, the coldness coming off you in waves. his stomach twisted.

“can you just... tell me what happened?” he asked, stepping closer, his heart racing. “i don’t get it. one minute we’re fine, and the next... you won’t talk to me. i’m just—i'm lost here. what did i do?”

you let the silence hang between you, weighing heavy and thick.

“i heard you,” you said finally, your voice soft but cutting. “that night, at the pub. i overheard everything you said.”

george furrowed his brows, trying to recount that night then his eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. “what... what do you mean? you heard—?”

"the words you said about me,” you continued, each word slow and deliberate. “you said i wasn’t fun enough. that i was ‘always on your case.’ you said you didn’t even know why you were still with me.”

george’s mind went blank. he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to apologise in a way that would make this right. his heart slammed in his chest, realising now how much pain those words must have caused you. but it was too late to take them back.

you could see it in his face. the realisation was there, the guilt overtaking him, but you didn’t know if it was enough to fix what had been broken.

“i didn’t mean it,” george said quickly, his voice desperate. “i was frustrated. i didn’t mean any of it. please believe me.”

“you didn’t mean it?” you replied, bitterness creeping into your tone. “then why did you say it? why was it so easy for you to just... talk about me like that? like i was just something convenient, something that doesn’t matter.”

he opened his mouth to explain, but no words came. he couldn’t undo it. he couldn’t fix it right then, no matter how much he wanted to.

“i don’t even know if i can look at you the same way,” you whispered. “i don’t even know if i can trust you again.”

george’s heart sank as the weight of your words hit him. he had no idea what to say next, only that he had to make it right. but it felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure if he could reach you in time before you completely pulled away.

“i need time, george,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t know if I can forgive you, but i need time to figure it out.”

and with that, you closed the door gently.

george stood outside your door, the sound of it closing echoing in his ears like a final judgment. he didn't know how long he stood there, feeling the chill of the cool hallway air creeping into his bones. it felt like hours, though he knew it had only been minutes. his mind was spinning, replaying your words over and over.

"i didn't mean it." the words barely registered anymore. he had said them in a thousand different ways, but he knew they weren’t enough to fix what he had broken.

the days following that night felt like an eternity for george. he couldn't focus on anything, the guilt eating him alive. every time he looked at his phone, he wondered if you would finally text back, but each time he saw "no new messages," his heart sank lower.

it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. he called, texted, even left voice memos for you, pouring out everything he felt—everything he should’ve said that night. but there was no reply.

every morning, he woke up with the same heavy feeling in his chest. every night, he went to bed with the same hollow ache. he had to do something. he knew that now. he couldn’t just wait and hope you would come back to him.

one evening, a few days after your confrontation, george found himself standing in front of a florist, his mind racing. his hands shook as he selected the perfect bouquet—one that said everything he couldn’t express in words. he knew it wouldn’t fix things completely, but it was a start.

the flowers were a mix of soft pink peonies, delicate white roses, and sprigs of baby’s breath, all tied together with a soft ribbon. he couldn’t remember the last time he’d put so much thought into something—his usual gifts were impromptu, quick decisions. but this felt different. this needed to be different.

you were curled up on your couch that night, trying to distract yourself from the mess in your head. you had been avoiding george’s texts, avoiding the thoughts of him entirely. but as much as you tried, you couldn’t push him away completely. the truth was, you missed him—desperately—but the sting of his words was still too fresh. you weren’t sure if you could go back to how things were.

suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

you froze, heart skipping a beat. you weren’t expecting anyone. hesitantly, you opened the door, and standing there, looking both hopeful and nervous, was george, holding the bouquet in his hands. his eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation. it was the first time you’d seen him this vulnerable.

"hi," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "i know i don’t deserve this, but... can we talk?"

you wanted to be mad. you wanted to slam the door in his face, to hold onto your pride and not let him back in. but something about his soft eyes, the way he was holding those flowers like they were the most important thing in the world to him, made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. you stepped aside, letting him into your flat.

he stood in the doorway for a moment, unsure of how to continue. “i... i’ve been thinking about what i said. a lot. i know there’s no excuse, but it was never about you. it was about me. and the fact that i was too stupid to realise what i had until it was almost too late...” he took a deep breath, his hands gripping the bouquet tighter. "i don’t want anyone else. i need you. you make my life better, and i’ve been too selfish to see it.”

your eyes flicked to the flowers, the delicate arrangement in his hands speaking more than his words could. the gesture was small, but it was real, and in that moment, you realised just how much he was trying.

“i know I’ve hurt you,” he continued, stepping forward slightly. “and i don’t know how to fix it. but i’m not going to stop trying. i will grovel if i have to. i will do whatever it takes to make it right. you don’t have to forgive me today, or tomorrow, or ever. but i need you to know... you mean everything to me. you’re everything.”

you took the flowers from him, letting out a quiet sigh. “george...” you started, but you didn’t know what to say. you still felt that ache in your chest, but seeing him so open, so raw, made you feel the tiniest spark of hope that things could be fixed. maybe not right away, but eventually.

“i know,” he said, his voice breaking a little. “i know i’ve hurt you, and i deserve it if you never speak to me again. but please... let me show you that i can be better. let me show you that i can make up for it.”

you looked at him for a long moment, the silence stretching between you, before finally, you whispered, “you’re not going to fix it overnight. you’re not going to fix it by just buying me flowers or telling me sorry a million times. it’s going to take time.”

george nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. "i’ll wait. however long it takes. i’ll wait for you.”

there was a long pause. you could feel the weight of everything that had happened between you, but you also felt the warmth of his sincerity. finally, you reached out, touching his arm gently.

“okay,” you said softly. “but you’re going to have to prove it. every day.”

george’s face lit up, a mixture of relief and joy spreading across his features. “i will. i swear, i will.”

and as he took a step closer, you felt the last of the walls you had built around your heart begin to crack, just a little. maybe you weren’t ready to dive back into the relationship you had before, but for the first time since that night, you felt like there might be a chance to rebuild.

george wrapped his arms around you slowly, cautiously, and you let him. you let him hold you, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity of his apology sinking in.

“you don’t have to be perfect,” you murmured into his chest, “but you do have to try.”

“i will,” he promised softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i promise.”

and in that moment, surrounded by the scent of fresh flowers and the soft glow of the city lights outside your window, you both knew that it wasn’t about perfect words or gestures—it was about learning, growing, and finding your way back to each other, one step at a time.

[amarmoria]

Blond White Ferrari

Stepbro!Rafe Cameron x Reader

You stayed in tannyhill after Ward's death, unable to leave Rafe to grieve alone.

Notes: this is a test fic I wanted to post abt stepbro rafe, idk if I'll continue this or what but it depends on you guys🫶

You came back to Kildare just a week after they announced your father's death. The funeral was small, only immediate families and of course you, Rose, Wheezie and Rafe— no Sarah. Maybe that was what fueled Rafe even more, but recently, he didn't bring up Sarah that much, not that often compared to the day after Ward's burial, he kept cursing her name and wrecking the stuff in her room, you stood outside until he finished, only coming in to fix her room when he left Tannyhill to snort whites in Barry's trailer.

A week later, Rose and Wheezie left, only you stayed, as much as you hated Rafe, it didn't feel right to leave him alone, no one was, everyone needs someone when grieving, even a person like Rafe.

The next few days after you decided to stay were a blur, constant packets of snow were always littered around, as well as beer bottles and cans, the house was always ransacked after parties. But you were always there to clean up after him, maybe it was a way to cope with Ward's death, or maybe you pitied your brother, either way you didn't like to look back at it that much.

You always had a bowl of water and a rag beside your bed ready the night before so you won't have to go downstairs and wake up the littering people sleeping in.

You always went straight to Rafe's bedroom, it was always open anyways, so you didn't have to disturbed him, or them, most of the time you had to be the one to shoo the girls on his bed, always giving them some spare clothes to go home to, they were always littered around so why not give them away.

Then you go back to your fucked out brother, he will and most definitely always will wake up during noon, so you spend the morning patting the rag on his face, cleaning the left over snow on his snot. You open up his curtains to avoid mold forming in his room, then you clean the house, and repeat the same routine the next day.

You never expect him to reward you, nevertheless thank you, you don't know why you did, or even do it, you're just there, for him, for your brother.

In the afternoon you cook his favorites, you're not that much of a cook, but you try, you leave them on the table, already heated before going to the grocery store, he doesn't like getting pampered by people, especially not by his sister, but he does accept it, only shyly when you're not there, you always go home to an empty dish and the ripped note you leave him.

"You.." his voice fades off as you glance up at him, he was up early, too early, you were in the middle of trying to cook shrimp and grits, still figuring out the youtube tutorial you found.

"O-oh, uh, Good— good morning, Rafe." You smiled at him, setting down the knife and wiping your hand on your pretty frilly apron.

You didn't say anything as you grabbed a glass of cold water, sliding it on the counter beside where he was still standing, he wasn't saying anything, maybe he was still dazed from his sleep, his bed hair slightly more rough today, he hadn't cut his hair in a while, so his buzzed has grown a bit.

You didn't see how his eyes followed you around as you went back to cooking, almost flabbergasted that you were cooking, were you always the one cooking here? Was it actually your food he always eats up everyday?

"The food, you.."

"Y-yup, uh, doesn't look that good right now," you lightly joke, not moving your eyes from the tutorial. "But the key is trusting the.. process.. shit,"

You hurriedly turned the stove off as you tried to salvage the remaining shrimps that hadn't gotten burned, which is.. 3.

"Oh! Uhm," you bite your tongue, out of all the times he has to walk in on you, it has to be this one where you burn the meal. "A-are you hungry? I-I can whip up some Mac i-if you're in a hurry,"

You frowned and glanced behind you when he didn't answer, your eyes caught his longing stare on your apron, then to your hand and to the burnt shrimps.

"I-I'm sorry, it's, I was going to make the cordon blue from yesterday but I really just had to be unique and try, try to cook your favorite the, uh, S-shrimp and grits but, as you can see.."

You hide your hands inside your apron's pockets, too embarrassed to even defend yourself from the incoming.

"It's, it's fine," your eyes widened as you whip your head up, you meet his eyes, his blue, light eyes, and for the first time, you were having a decent conversation with him.

He sees your smile grow wider, wider than it ever has after everything.

"I-I can cook another! Do you want uhm, uh, pasta? I have some leftover sauce, but I can heat it up again if you want!"

His eye twitches, almost amused by watching you. "Right, uhm, yeah, I'd like that"

And for the first time, the atmosphere felt at peace.

-

"Fuck—!" You hear a crash downstairs, and it doesn't take a second for you to guess who it came from.

"I won't fucking leave until I get.." Rafe's voice fades in the background as he presumingly enters the kitchen, you don't hear the rest of his words as another slam echoes around the house.

"Son of a bitch!" You hear him throw his phone down, his 5th phone of the month. "Fucking bitch I'm gonna.." he stops when he sees you creeping on the stairs.

"Hey.." your lip forms a tight smile, you don't even get a second to look at him properly when he disappears from your sight, then you hear him hurl himself on the couch just moments later, you almost worried if he was gonna throw another useless party again, you liked partying, but Rafe always throws parties here and there that you got tired of it pretty fast.

In any other day you would've went back to your room until he calms down, but you didn't know where you took your courage from when you followed him in the room, you see him slouching on his knees, cradling his head on his hands, almost visibly shaking in anger.

You didn't say anything as you took out a pack of ice cubes, shoving it inside the ice pack before coming back to the living room, your eyes focus on his bleeding knuckles, then to the mirror adjacent to where you were.

And continuing your silence, you slowly knelt down in front of him, he didn't make any moves or whatsoever so you shakingly brought the pack near his knuckles, gently patting them to test the waters , you see him flinch, but makes no effort to stop you, the carpet digs in your knees, but you press the ice further on his bleeding knuckles.

You hear him hiss. "S-sorry,"

His phone rings nearby, but is nowhere to be seen, the ringtone continues to vibrate, you glance at Rafe, rolling your eyes when he doesn't even make a move to get it, biting your tongue when it gets even more annoying, you clicked your tongue and dropped the ice, trying to quickly silence the annoying ringtone when his hand latches on to your arm, pulling you to stand in front of him as he buries his face on your stomach.

"Rafe your—"

"Stay,"

"It might be impo—"

"Leave it."

You shut your mouth, you didn't want to anger Rafe even more, so you stayed there, and at this angle, you can kinda see who the annoying caller was on his phone.

Sofia.

Your eyebrows furrow as you try to remember the familiar name. She wasn't a kook for sure, or you'd definitely remember her, but it was certainly impossible for Rafe to befriend a pogue right..

"Please," you snapped out of your trance as you hear him speak into your tummy. "Rafe—"

"Don't, just... Stay here, with me" your face softens, his arms completely wrapped around your waist, tightly, he pulls you in, your knees touching the edge of the couch, he doesn't make any moves to remove you, only hearing his peaceful heavy breathing.

You don't say anything, your fingers shiver at the thought that passed your head, slowly, you bring your fingers up his head, placing them on it, then steadily, you run your fingers through his hair, little by little, until both your hands are now massaging his entire head.

You hear a soft groan beneath you, the rumble of his voice sending your stomach vibrating. He fists around your top behind you as you take advantage of this moment to freely touch your brother's hair, you can never get near him, not less than 5 meters away, if this was a one time thing only, you'd have to make it last.

What you don't see is the small bulge slowly forming in his pants.

-

"Nope, jus' send it here— No, I'll be the one dealing with it, no, yes, no! No way you're gonna be sellin' that!"

You hear Rafe pace around his room, then Barry's muffled words, but Rage quickly shuns him out, he's dealing with powder again.

You snapped back to the tray you're holding, balancing the bowl and the juice, you cooked a simple meal, whipping up the leftover rice mixed with cooked salmon and  sesame oil.

You hesitated whether to go and give him the tray or just quietly slip back into your room and have it for yourself.

You chose the latter.

"Rafe..?"

His head whips to your direction, he had his hand on his hip, while the other held the phone to his ear, his eyes wander to you then down to the tray you're holding, you didn't have any time to remove your apron so you wonder what you looked like right now.

Suddenly feeling embarrassed of your interruption, you squeak out. "I-I made you.. something.."

You bite your cheeks, shifting on your feet when his adams apple bobs up and down.

"I'll— I'll be right back," he quickly ends the call, shoving the phone in his pockets.

"Whatcha got there?"

You smiled. "Oh! Rice and, and salmon, they're mixed actually! I also added sesame oil, the new one they added in the market, I heard it was very hard for them to get it here, so I preordered them weeks ago,"

"'s that right?"

"Uh-huh, there's also this watermelon I found the uh, Den— densuke watermelon? I think that's how you pronounce it? it's so very good! You gotta try it, Rafe!"

Rafe wasn't even listening to what you were yapping about, he wondered how you got so comfortable around him like this, not that he didn't like it, he loved it, he was droning out of the sound of your voice, carrying the tray up to his room with your cute little apron like it was your right and honor to do so.

Ever since that day, you started noticing the small changes in Rafe, it doesn't look that big but if you compare it to him before, it's a huge milestone. And ever since that day, he too has noticed how you kept buzzing around him like a housewife.

".. it?"

"Wha, huh.." he sees your face slightly frowning. "Do you want to try it?"

"Oh? Uh, yes, yeah, of course."

"Alright!" You excitedly placed the tray on his bedside table as he wits himself on the bed, you quickly handed him the drink which he accepted with a nod, and like a thirsty buffoon, he finished half the glass in one gulp.

"Oh, wow, this is actually very good," he says, his eyes following your every move, you bent down a bit to mix the salmon more into the rice, you didn't want it to get cold and bad.

"Done!" You gave yourself a pat on the back internally. You hear Rafe's chuckle, a low rumble in his chest, and instinctively, your face heats up in embarrassment. "W-what.."

"Nothing bad, don't worry," but that didn't calm your nerves. "I-if you don't like salmon, it's, it's alright, I can—"

"No." He says, his eyes staring you down even if he was the one sitting. "O-okay, but—"

"No buts, princess, now are you going to let the starving man eat or..?" He joked, a small smile back on his face.

You chuckled and approached him with the food, presenting it in front of him like a dog would with a stick to its owner. "Here you go!"

Although he doesn't take it, only placing his large hands on your waist, his fingers playing with the drawstrings of your apron from the back, pulling you in between his legs, then he opens his mouth with an 'ah'

Oh! Does he want to be fed?

You flashed him a big grin before scooping a generous amount on the spoon, you heard him chuckle again, his eyes straying on your face.

It made you chuckle too, then you raised the spoon up near his face. "Ahhh"

He quickly engulfs the whole spoon, and as his mouth leaves, his tongue leaves a playful lick at the spoon, making 100% sure you saw it.

And indeed you did, because your face heats up once again, biting your cheeks as you shifted on your feet.

"Something wrong, princess?"

"N-no! Nothing.."

He smirked, now he knows why Kelce loved teasing his girlfriends.

"Now, now, isn't it a bit rude that the cook wouldn't even eat her own dish?"

"Oh, uh, y-yes, but I made it for y—"

"Ah ah," he shakes his head, gently taking the spoon from you, scooping another from the bowl and draws in near your face.

"Say, ahh"

You frown, but follow him, an ahh leaves your mouth as the spoon enters, he doesn't waste any time and takes out the spoon hastily.

"H-hey!" You grumble, your mouth full of rice.

"Uh-huh—"

You heard his phone ring.

"Shit.." he rolls his eyes, visibly fucking irritated at the thought of someone fucking interrupting the moment. He declines the call, then proceeds to look up to you again.

"Now, where were we—"

His phone rings again.

"Fucking—!" You don't flinch when the phone flies off behind you and smacks on the wall. "That motherfucker has to be kiddi—"

Ring.

"FUC—" He exhales, gripping his head and abruptly standing up.

"Sorry, Princess I have to—"

"It's fine" you smile, "The dishes needed washing anyways."

And before you could hear his reply, you quickly suttered out his room.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 20: Fear Play - Mafia!Stucky

Summary: You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing, and all you could was silence echoing around the house, but you knew you weren’t alone.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, consensual non-consent (CNC), threesome (f/m/m), discussion of safe words/consent before, fear play, chasing, uniform kink, manhandling, spanking, begging, restrained/held down, rough sex, pain/pleasure, size kink, degradation, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), possessive, breathplay, cockwarming, aftercare

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“Are you sure about this? I really don’t think you’re going to enjoy it. I mean, Doll, you cried watching Scream. Do you think you’ll be able to cope with something like this?”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at the blatant mocking from Bucky, who was currently sitting on the coffee table with your feet in his lap, his fingers massaging the soles and earning a deep groan to pour from your mouth as you’d been in stilettos for so long today that your feet ached terribly. Your head fell back against Steve’s shoulder, whose lap you were currently sitting in, his arms wrapped around your middle to keep you close.

“Well, Buckaroo, we won’t know until I try it now, will I? Anyway, it was Scream that gave me the idea”, you explain with your eyes closed, enjoying the massage thoroughly. Steve and Bucky share an unsure look, knowing just how sensitive you are. However, with your eyes closed, you didn’t notice and continued trying to convince them, “I’ll use my safe words if I’m not enjoying it, but please, can we just try it?”

Steve's hold tightens for a moment as you melt further into the embrace, “We’ll try it, but if you hate it, I do need you to communicate clearly with us, especially something that could potentially become triggering. If you are sure you would like us all to do this, then I'm happy if you are”.

Turning your face so you can kiss his cheek, you smile and say, “Thank you, I definitely want to try it. However, if Bucky keeps massaging my feet like that, I'm going to fall asleep before anything even happens”.

You groan in pleasure as he massages deeper, smiling at the reaction he is getting. “Don't fight it, hot mama, get some sleep. We’ve had a long day, so get some rest”.

You don't need to be told twice as you snuggle into Steve whilst wiggling your toes for Bucky to continue, which he happily did, wanting to satisfy his best girl.

Some naps, you awake feeling like a new person, rejuvenated and ready to live the best of the day. Other times, naps were more detrimental, leaving you feeling disorientated and confused, not knowing the time of the day. You'd had the latter versions on naps, waking up in a different room from where you'd fallen asleep.

It took a couple of minutes of mumbling and groaning, stretching your muscles, to figure out that you were in your large bed, but most importantly, naked and alone in the darkness.

“Steve? Bucky?” you shouted into the darkness whilst fumbling around for your phone, but there was nothing, so rolling over, you clicked the bedside lamp on. However, it didn’t turn on as you remained in darkness, so you stood, holding the thin sheet to your body to try and keep out the chill, and stumbled to the light switch, flicking it a few times and then sighing in frustration when it didn't turn in.

A deep chill cursed through your body as your back pushed against the wall, looking around the room more thoroughly, whichh was only slightly illuminated by the security lights that seeped through the gaps in the blinds. The shadows around the furniture seemed to look more threatening than ever before as you realised that the electricity was not working and the house was haunting silently. All you could hear was the thumping of your panicking heartbeat in your ears as you tried to take a moment to process everything that was going on.

You were naked, with only a sheet to cover your modesty, your phone was missing, the electricity wasn't working, and Steve and Bucky were not answering your calls as you were seemingly home alone. Taking a deep breath to steady your increasing nerves, your grip on the sheet tightened as you tried to come up with reasonable answers for what was happening.

The conversation with your boyfriends was the first thing to come to mind, and maybe they were planning the surprise now. However, when you mentioned the topic of fear play, you'd expected it to be like running away from them in the middle of the woods or a jump scare whilst out in an expensive club, as you role-played not knowing them.

Releasing the tension in your shoulders with a long breath, you decided this was probably the most reasonable excuse for your predicament. As you stepped forward, another dark thought cast through your mind. What if it wasn't them? What if they’d been called away as you were sleeping, and they didn't want to wake you, and now you were being targeted? There were many dangers to relationships with mafia gang members, specifically the boss and his partner. The house was thoroughly guarded, and security surrounded the building 24 hours a day, but the enemy was cruel and had broken the three of you more times than you'd like even to begin counting.

It then dawned on you: why would they strip you naked and put you into bed? Wouldn't they have just killed you if it was the enemy?

Finally, you decided this was probably Steve and Bucky’s doing, and they were planning whatever was for your fantasy. This did little to ease the tension for you now as you realised who you were asking. They were both trained in the army, and Bucky, additionally as an assassin, had been experimented on and given specific abilities to heighten every part of their body, including hearing.  They had so many more advantages at that moment than you; if you moved even an inch, they would surely hear it even from a room away. Not even to mention the years they’d had as dangerous mafia gang members, all the experience they’d had stalking their victims, you were unsure of the tactic they had planned.

Your heart was beating harder as the adrenaline began to spike throughout your body. It was hard to decide what to do next. Do you stand there and wait for them to find you with no exit route, as your bedroom was on the second floor? Or do you try to tiptoe through the house, preferably somewhere downstairs, where you could find some weapons of some sort, including that it wasn’t actually Steve or Bucky?

Deciding the latter, with as much grace as possible, you slowly walked through the upper part of your house. Even the sound of the sheet dragging on the floor made you cringe with its volume, so you gathered the excess material into your arms to increase your stealth. There was nothing you could do to dampen the noise of the stairs creaking as you descended them one at a time. Each breath was slow to try not to inform whoever was in your home as to where you were, but you were sure they could easily find you by listening for how loudly your heart was hammering against your rib cage.

You were now faced with your next decision. To leave out of the front door or find a weapon in the kitchen and potentially leave through the back door. Deciding the front door, you rushed over and then bit back a cry as the handle wouldn’t turn; it was thoroughly jammed. Trying to regain composure, you didn’t stop walking until you were in the kitchen, which had never seemed so frightening in the darkness.

Walking with muscle memory, you crept around the kitchen island to the drawers that stored the knives. Except when you opened it, you were greeted with an empty draw; in fact, there were no utensils, plates, pans, nothing whatsoever in any of the cupboards, as if someone had prepared for you to go and try and find a weapon to defend yourself.

As you’d decided to abort your plan for a weapon and try to escape out of the front door, was the exact moment a gloved hand pressed over your mouth, silencing your scream.

“We can do this the hard way or the extremely hard way”, a muffled voice spoke from behind as you were abruptly pulled back against a solid body with a metal arm around your waist. You knew it was Bucky, even from the smell of his aftershave that lingered beneath the overwhelming scent of leather and tactical gear. Even with the confirmation that it was your boyfriend behind the nakedness, disappearing phones and no lights, this did nothing to calm the fear tumbling through your stomach as you continued to tremble and attempt to pull away from your captor.

In doing so, the sheet slipped out of your grip, pooling to your feet, revealing your utterly nude body. You shivered at the chill and exposure. The indifference to the situation deepened as usually, Bucky’s body would thoroughly warm yours, especially if he had an arm around you. However, whatever he wore seemed to contain all his heat. The ex-assassin towered over your body, firmly pressing his body against your back so that you could feel rugged buckles indented into your skin. You’d never seen him in this uniform before or even with a face mask covering half of his face, muffling his voice.

You could feel him leering over your shoulder, and even though he was someone you trusted more than anyone in the entire world, the persona he was currently playing was more deadly than anything you’d ever seen before. The name flashed through your mind like an alarm bell. You’d never know Bucky through those dark days when he was the enemy’s weapon, but you’d been there for the nightmares, the mind breaks that had him fearing to be near you in case he had a momentary lapse in his judgement. The Winter Solider was a dangerous part of Bucky’s past, and it seemed that he was adorning the attire to strike fear through your heart.

The arm crushing around your waist tightened as he looked down at your now naked body, as you attempted to both cover yourself and wiggle free from the hold. “Well, that makes it easier. My pretty little lamb, oh, the things I’m going to do to you”, he drawled as his metal thumb pressed into the flesh of your hip. 

His words had the desired effect you’d been hoping for. Unfathomable fear, laced with cunt soaking arousal, pulses through you so deeply that your knees shook as your thighs clenched tightly together.

Bucky noticed, his arm squeezing even tighter until you were gasping and slapping the unmoveable limb. Before you could comprehend the next move, you were screaming from being manhandled, your feet leaving the safety of the floor as the Winter Soldier lifted you, turning on the spot and roughly pushing you against the kitchen island. The coldness of the marble countertop was nearly overwhelming against your soft skin. You attempted to move off the surface, kicking your legs to get free, but the man behind you seemed to be everywhere, holding your arms down and stepping between your legs, spreading them further so he could use his hips and weight to keep you still.

“No point trying to run, little lamb; you’re all mine to use as I see fit”. His voice was monotone, almost lifeless, which helped you to fall further into the narrative of fear. Wiggling your hips to try to loosen his hold, it only made him hold you tighter until you cried out.

“Le-Let go of me, please!” you begged as you tried to look over your shoulder at him, but all you could see was a dark outline.

A sharp swat with his palm to your arse cheek shut you up quickly, “Such a pathetic little thing, begging like that. Don’t worry though, little lamb, you’ll be begging alright when we both have our turn”.

Through all the struggle, you’d momentarily forgotten about Steve, who had yet to join the scenario and like any other time that you thought of your blonde boyfriend, your cunt clenched automatically. “Giving up already?” the Soldier interrupted your dirty thoughts, “I thought you’d have more fight than this, but that’s fine with me; it makes this all so much easier”. He ground his hips harder against yours so that his covered crotch roughly scrapped against your pussy.

You were plunged back into the fear, trying to go through your memories of whenever Bucky or Steve had tried to train you with self-defence to get out of these similar situations, but it was difficult when they would anticipate your next move. With your hell, you violently kicked down, aiming mindlessly. At the same time, you turned towards his flesh arm that was still holding down your wrist. Simultaneously, you managed to bite his gloved hand and kick his kneecap, which caused a grunt of pain and his weight to fall back for a split second, which was all the time you needed to roll off the counter and run.

Run like your life depended on it. The front door was still jammed, so you decided hiding was the next best option as you began to climb the stairs two at a time. All for your ankle to be grabbed by a metal hand, causing your body to tumble onto the carpeted stairs, which thankfully wasn’t too painful on a fall.

Not that you cared about this as you let out an almighty scream that echoed around the eerily quiet house as Bucky roughly grabbed you, having been right behind you the entire time, needing more than just a simple bite and quick kick to hurt.

“That wasn’t very nice, looks like the little lamb needs a lesson on how to play nicely with others”. Bucky managed to twist both of your arms behind your back, keeping them locked together in his metal hand, and the other began to play with the buckle of his uniform, his big thighs forcefully pushing yours apart.

Even though the carpet had softened your fall, it rubbed roughly against your soft skin as you were once more manhandled. Your face, chest, hips and knees burned from the friction as Bucky knelt behind you on the stairs.

Maybe it was the adrenaline or the act of the roughness that was turning you on so much, but it was verging on embarrassing how wet you could feel yourself becoming as the Soldier freed his cock.

“Got a lovely present for you, little lamb, and you’re going to take every. Single. Inch of it”. With each emphasis of his words, the thick tip of his cock pushed against your entrance, spreading it open until it burned from adjusting to his girth. In this position, he felt impossibly big as your body reacted with heat and entire body shivers, saliva filling your mouth as you let out pathetic screams.

“It’s too big; it’s not going to fit!” your bottom lip quivered as your eyes shut, breathing slowly as he kept going until fully penetrated.

“It’s a good thing I made it fit”, he mocked into your ear, the material of his mask pushing into your cheek. Bucky fucked you hard, without restraint, so your entire body burned from the carpet and the force of his thrusts.

You’d become lost in his fucking, mind wholly consumed by the cock pressing into your core, the body pushing into you and the hand that began to cover your mouth to quieten your cries.

With the dampened volume, you could now hear the purposefully heavy footsteps from the top of the stairs. It was hard to look up with Bucky pressing into you, but you already knew who it was, even as a pair of combat boots stood on the step above where your head lay.

“How does she feel?” Steve asks Bucky in the tone he only saved for when he was at work. Powerful, full of authority and an inkling of darkness.

“Tight and wet, I think she’s starting to like it, aren’t you, little lamb?” Bucky answers cockily whilst not slowing his fucking, but his hand releases your mouth to grip your jaw firmly, tilting your head back painfully until you are looking up at Steve.

Even though it was difficult to see in the dark, you could identify that Steve was in his own uniform that you’d only seen in pictures. It seemed dark navy blue, with buckles around his waist and a giant white star in the centre of his chest. Like Bucky, this uniform was from his time in the army, usually saved for his undercover missions where he used the alias Captain America.

“You really are a sick thing, aren’t you, getting all tight at seeing your intruders, huh?” Bucky quipped, releasing your embarrassed face as you realised how tightly you’d squeezed his cock.

“Get off me!” you tried to fight out of his hold again, but he held firmly.

“Such a pretty face, be a shame to let it go to waste, don’t you think, Cap?” the Soldier admires as a tear leaks down your cheek. Apparently, his eyesight was good enough to notice as he wiped it away, spearing it into the skin.

“It would. Get her up; I want to see just how tight she is. You can have her mouth”, Steve commands, talking as if you weren’t even there, which, for some reason, only turned you on more, even if you were still frightened by the situation.

Ungracefully, Bucky pulls out and wraps his arms around your body, hoisting you up and over his shoulder and descends back down the stairs and into the living room. There, you are dumped onto the couch, bouncing a few times before a different pair of hands forces you onto your knees, turning you until you’re leaning over the back of the furniture.

There, you’re greeted with Bucky’s cock that is still proudly on display. “If you bite me, I promise you, I’ll make your life a misery”, he warns as his hand harshly pulls the back of your head until your lips are pushed against the wet tip of his cock.

You can smell your liquids on him and try to keep your lips sealed for a moment, but then Steve is behind you, holding both hands behind your back like Bucky had been as he, too, began to widen your knees to give himself some room. You tried in vain to get out of his hold, to play the victim character, tears springing to your eyes as a sob wracked through your chest. It mainly was the pumping adrenaline that was making it so easy for your to fall into actress mode, but it only made it feel more real, which in turn wettened your cunt.

As Bucky had already fucked you, Steve didn’t need to take as long slowly filling you up. Instead, he thrust in with one quick movement that took your breath away with how wide you’d been stretched. It also forced your mouth to open in a silent gasp and was the perfect opportunity for Bucky to push his cock into your face.

You gagged instantly as the tip glided to the back of your throat. It was overwhelming initially, but as you relaxed your cries and throat, he could push deeper. Steve and Bucky both sighed in contentment at being in both of your warm, wet holes. This serenity lasted a single second as they both used every ounce of strength and training to fuck your holes.

Every time Steve would fuck in, your body would jolt forward so that your mouth took more of Bucky. It was like an endless sex circle, your body being used thoroughly between the two, their little toy to use however they’d like.

“Maybe we should visit the little lamb more often”, Steve grunted between powerful thrusts that were starting to make you dizzy with how perfectly they grazed your sensitive nerves. “Can’t be leaving a pretty girl like you to be all by your lonesome; someone needs to fill this hole. You’re ours now, do you understand? Ours to fuck, touch and maim whenever we like”.

You couldn’t help it as your body tensed in arousal, throat and cunt pulsing and squeezing like your body naturally wanted to milk their cocks with the way it was reacting. It earned a throaty moan from both of them, their hands squeezing in recognition that they knew you were close to orgasming.

It had almost sneaked up on you, that burning to peak in your abdomen, the tingles shifting through your thighs with each thrust. You’d been secretly enjoying this rough fear play so much that you’d fallen so into being the victim that your body seemed to want to explode to release the tension.

However, when you finally cum, it only earned more teasing from Steve and Bucky, both continuing to use you throughout. “So pathetic, cumming on my cock like that; you must be desperate little lamb”.

They didn’t stop, just held you in that one position as you came again after a few minutes, feeling now tender and sore with overstimulation and yet dribbling from both your mouth and cunt.

Bucky came first, down your throat in thick ropes of cum that you swallowed after some encouragement from him which was to hold his cock in your mouth and pinch your nose until you had no other option but to swallow so that you could breathe.

You slumped over the back of the couch by the time Steve was soaking your cunt, his hips rocking into you with such force that your bones groaned from the impact, but you took it all, even squeezing your walls to help milk him completely.

Your entire body trembled when the lights came back on, causing you to flinch and hide your face in the pillows. Steve was the first to break character, kissing along the back of your shoulder and massaging the areas of your wrists he’d been holding.

“You good?” he asks, carefully working his lips up your neck and to your cheek, kissing away the kisses that had left tracks down your face.

“I’m perfect”, you say, huskier than you’d ever sounded.

Steve chuckled, “Seem’s Bucky did a number on your throat, " he joked as he leaned back, giving you some space for a moment but only to roll the two of you over gently. His cock was still inside you, but you were grateful for this, needing this sort of aftercare where you felt close to him as he held you close to his body.

“Everyone good?” Bucky asks, taking off his mask and sitting beside the two of you. Steve nods as you smile at the brunette who is visually checking over your body for any marks, only noticing the areas that had rubbed against the carpet. “Sorry, I didn’t think about carpet burn. Do these hurt?” he asks whilst looking at the marks.

Shaking your head no, you tried to cuddle further into Steve but found it rather tricky. “This uniform isn’t comfortable whatsoever”, you mumbled against the star on his chest.

“Duly noted”, Steve laughed, kissing your head.

“I mean, I like their look, but maybe keep them in the wardrobe for cuddles. Also, do we need to get new security? Even with the lights off, didn’t they think to check on me with all the screaming?”

Bucky moved closer, his hands-free of the gloves as he stroked up your naked spine. “I warned them not to come knocking whilst the lights were out as we were playing a fun little game”.

You gave him an incredulous expression, “I’m sure they must think we’re crazy”.

Bucky shrugs, showing you his charming grin as he ducks his head to kiss your cheek chastely, “They probably do, but I don’t care, not when I’ve got my little lamb to chase in the dark”.

[pinkshortbread]

Can you do members of the tulpar with a partner who struggles with mental health issues (like depression or something of the sort), if it makes it easier for you to only do one of the tulpar members tho that’s fine !! love your writing btw ^_^

Thank you so much for your feedback ! 😭💞

For the moment, I only write for Curly, Daisuke and Anya. I hope you all don't mind. Maybe later for Swansea, I'm uncomfortable with writing about Jimmy (even though I like how written he is, eh I don't even need to justify myself why I don't want to write for him, anyway-) 😔✌️

WARNING : MDNI ; May triggers some people ; Sensitive Subjects.

[How do the members of the Tulpar cope with their partner who struggles with mental health issues ?]

Due to personal experience, I have chosen anxio-depression. When you went on broad the Tulpar : you lied about your condition to protect yourself from losing your job. In fact, Pony Express used to be precise and kept an eye on mental health issues but now, it's not quite the case (unfortunately).

💫 Curly 💫

Curly noticed some details : you felt restless, you had trouble sleeping. That's why you went to the lounge pretty late at night to pass the time.

"Curly ? Why are you here ?" "I should return the question Love." "Trouble sleeping, but I'm okay." It ticked something inside Curly's chest, you weren't okay. Everytime he left the cockpit to go to sleep to his quarter, you were here : your eyes on the screen, in your own world, looking tired, drowned in your thoughts.

He sat next to you, placing his hand onto your thigh, rubbing sweet circles to soothe the stress feeling you were breathing out. "I'm sorry, but I know you're not..."

The next thing you did is throwing yourself into his arms. You cried, cried so much into his shoulders, confessing to him that you were struggling with your depression on broad the Tulpar, that you lied about your issues, you didn't even talk about it with Anya. You were lost, you didn't know what to do. That only built up your anxiety you already tried to control. It was unbearable for you to keep everything to yourself.

And Curly listened. He listened to everything you said : your had trouble to manage the little of energy you had, you didn't know how to feel positive, your sleeping schedule is completely broken...

He kept your crying form close and tight to him, almost afraid of losing his partner and companion. He is the only one who were able to listen and feel what you felt at the right moment, he did it perfectly.

"I lied to everyone about it, even you !" "No you didn't, you kept to yourself and you needed to let go. But I'm here and I'm not dissapointed by you. I love you"

Let's just say, not too short after that, you asked him if he could sleep with you in your quarter after your confession. He accepted.

🌺 Daisuke 🌺

Daisuke didn't notice at first, but : sometimes you where quite irritable to him, which questionned him but he couldn't put his finger on it, maybe you were nervous about the "not being on Earth situation", was he wrong ? But one day, you stormed into his room, sliding and opening his door wide.

"Daisuke..." You started crying as you fidgeted your fingers nervously. "I'm sorry, I've been awful to you..."

As he turned his head to see you crying, his door completely open. Your cries started to resonate inside the Tulpar. He rushed to you, closing his door behind you in the process and cupping your cheek. "No no no, baby what's wrong ?"

Between your cries and hiccups, you told him about your mental health, that you've been struggling even more with your stupid job and that you felt like it started to ruin your relationship, your medication started to run low due to a debut of an anxiolytic addiction. It was bad.

"Shit, baby, I didn't know about that..." Daisuke felt helpless about your issue but : "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better ? Food ? Video games ? Cuddles ? We can take the whole night if you want to talk about it, I can't leave you like that..."

"I don't want it to ruin our relationship-" Suddenly, Daisuke grabbed you by your hips, bringing you even closer to him. "Don't you dare to say that again Boo, I still love you."

💧 Anya 💧

Due to the fact that Anya is the nurse of the whole crew, you told her about your mental health way longer before your relationship started. But one day, you didn't show yourself to the psych eval. It was very unusual from you.

Anya decided to look for you around the Tulpar, questionning everybody. They didn't see you, so you must be in your quarter.

And there she saw you, sitting on your bed and staring at the floor. "Oh no Honey..." She faced you, sitting in front of you. "You weren't ready for your psych eval today ?" You nodded.

You needed some time to talk about it with her, when job and personnal issues start to bond together that's where the problems start you told yourself. Anya told you that it couldn't be an issue, but your thoughts were louder than her voice.

Anya brought her hands to your calves as she layed her head onto your lap. "It's going to be okay, I'm here. You don't have to talk about it, you are not alone." Her words sounded right, you shoulders relaxed. Your hands meets her hair, your fingers intertwined with her strands. You let out a big sigh.

"I love you..." Anya looked up at you, some tears rolled onto your cheeks. You didn't want to lose her. Her look softened. "Oh, I love you too, so so much... Don't forget that..."

For the first time, you heard her.

[dontlookatmytmntcollection]

SOCIAL BATTERIES

Do the boys REALLY like people that much?

Character studies.

Going from the most Extroverted to the least.

- 🟠 -

Mikey is THE definition of an extrovert

Suprise, suprise.

I keep thinking about him making fun of Casey constantly, and his fist bump with Vern, or him working the crowd on Halloween. And his eye rolls at Raph and Leo

Can be annoying af and play dumb, but half the time he knows way more than he let's on. And it's SUPER hard to get him angry.

Would be in a fraternity tbh. And like, seven sport teams.

The world is a lesser place with him cooped up away from it.

He's a HUGE teaser and talker. Loves to flirt and prank and play the vibes.

He's a NATRUAL at it

Give him ONE conversation. ONE chance, and he can get literally anyone out of their shell.

Loves having April or Casey or Vern around. Loves teasing them or harassing them tbh.

The bigger his social circle, the better his life.

Is usually a HUGE buffer between humans and his grumpy, tired brothers.

He would be the LIFE of the party. Would be an excellent host of an event, because he'd be everywhere talking to everyone. Remembering everyone by name and face, introducing people to one another, so on and so forth.

He would have multiple friend groups everywhere he goes, with all sorts of different types of people.

Out of his brothers, I see Mikey having the body count tbh

Also probably jumped into a relationship too soon and got hurt early on. He'll be way more ready for the next one.

He has SO MUCH TEXTING TO DO.

His favorite is snap chat.

The BEST out of all his brothers at reading social cues and body language. By FAR.

Can find something to talk about with ANYONE

He's been wishing to socialize his WHOLE LIFE. So he DO!

Probably the only one that can confront and process trauma in a healthy manner.

Not at all afraid of deeper, more meaningful conversations.

Often finds himself the one initiating deep conversations with people who need it the most (his brothers).

He knows there is a time and place for problem solving. And sometimes you just gotta sit with your feels.

Something his brothers STRUGGLE WITH

- 🟣 -

Donatello might not be EXTROVERTED but he is outgoing.

Second to Mikey, everyone in his family has a close relationship with Donnie.

Super caring and fun and inquisitive with everyone he meets.

He'll be down for ANYTHING. Sports, games, cooking, drives, crafts, working out, adventures or pranks or geeky movie nights.

He might not always be good at INICIATING these with strangers but he loves going along with stuff.

Loves showing people his projects and stuff and letting people use them or have them.

Will be there for his friends the instant they ask.

At a party he'd be in another room having a conversation with two or three people.

But I also see him hanging around girls a little more than guys. Finds the girlies to be easier company than guys.

He's been on discord for YEARS. He had human friends before even Mikey did.

But.

He's HYPERVIGALANT of the vibe

Extreme empath.

He does NOT like confrontation.

A HUGE people pleaser.

Feels he's stepping on eggshells around his loved ones and friends. In an effort to keep them happy.

He's a sensitive guy.

If he's told to shut up or be quiet, especially if he's excited or talking outloud- he's modified. He WILL shut up. For a while.

His brothers know this. While they get exasperated sometimes, they rarely interrupt him.

Does NOT like gossip. Don't gossip with him, he hates it

Makes him feel gross and mean.

Hates when people are upset or sad in any way.

When vibes get rough he does not cope well. Often chooses to avoid or straight up leave.

When things get heated he gets overstimulated quickly.

If he can't leave, he shuts down. He won't talk and if he does it's very quiet

Doesn't know how to help or address emotional things either. He prefers to let it go and just move on, leaving stuff unaddressed.

He's an outgoing and pleasant guy, but he definitely doesn't mix with everyone.

- 🔴 -

Meeting Raphael is a terrifying experience.

Because he talks and looks at you like he hates you already.

But he doesn't hate people.

He just sucks at them.

Raph wants a normal life just as badly as Mikey does.

Raphs love language is harassment???

He shows his love by annoying his loved ones. Or through teasing and banter. Or wrestling his bros to the ground or pull them into rough hugs.

However

When he meets new people he isn't there to make FRIENDS.

He's there to let you know that if you bullshit with his family you're gonna get whooped.

So he will posture and glare and tower and maybe even roll his neck or crack knuckles to anyone.

Literally anyone.

Remember how rude he was to April?

So when he can't do any of that- no banter, no pranks, no wrestling and no INTIMIDATING-

He is COMPLETELY at everyone's mercy

Put him in a group of girls, or take him to a party or a bar. ANYTHING out of his comfort zone.

He's very awkward.

Only because he's kinda quiet

And honestly SUPER shy.

Wants to be liked SUPER badly.

He doesn't know how to make friends. At all

Flirt with Raph. I dare you.

You'd terrify him

Is the type of guy at a party to stick to the side of someone he knows and never. Leave. It.

But he finds out he gets along with blue collar guys the most.

And Raph has this super power

He can detect if you're a good or bad character super quickly. Much quicker than everyone else in his family. Like, one conversation in.

Not that he really believes himself. He thinks everyone's out to get him. or his family

If he's not making fun of you, you know he doesn't like you.

Is the type of guy to have quality over quantity relationships.

Hates texting. Honestly hates social media and technology beyond like...insta reels or something. He doesn't like sitting on his phone or video games all the much. Half because he breaks things easily or gets easily frustrated at leaning how to work it.

Rather be doing something active or working on a car or build something or carve stuff.

Might not be as outgoing as Donnie or Mikey, but if people manage to ACTIALLY get him to do something fun, he is ALL IN and having a BLAST.

The kinda guy to crash at his friends house and just chill.

He recharges when he's in proximity of his loved ones. Not always SOCIALIZING but having his people close.

-🔵-

Our REAL introvert

He struggles to socialize even with his BROTHERS

Who are the only people in the world he allows himself to be even semi relaxed around

A conversation with anyone other than his dad and brothers is the opposite of a relaxing/easy activity.

He's honorable, polite, and formal.

But Leo is and EXTREMLY cold character.

Sometimes even a bit cruel and scary to strangers.

Has a weird habit of wrapping his arm kindly around someone he's about to hurt

Struggles to see even April as more than an 'asset' or 'person dad holds dear'

Doesn't see Vern as a friend. Doesn't see Casey as a friend.

Leo is the only turtle April doesn't have a strong connection to. Not out of lack of trying.

Tolerates social situations only if he falls into a leading (controlling) role.

Doesn't like large groups of people.

Very quiet otherwise.

Struggles to initiate activities with his brothers.

He sucks at it.

He is always receptive to when they reach out to him though

And kinda has a fear of getting turned down. Getting turned down by his brothers makes him sick to his stomach.

Not that he admits it.

He also doesn't handle rejection with any grace. Gets just a LITTLE pushy to make you either feel bad or like he's in charge

His brothers still gotta tolerate him being a little bossy and stuck up and a fun-sucker while they hang out with him. They know he can't help it.

But Leo is super relieved every single time they invite him to do something.

What would Leo be like at a party? Leo never WENT to the party. And if he DID, he'd be outside, trying to soak in the quiet. Listening to the party from out here.

or hug him, or just express somehow they still want him around or like him. Or love him. Because those moments are getting rarer and rarer the older they get.

He's completely alone other than his dad. At least he's thought so his whole life

Would be the one petting the cat. Or dog. Not the type to go LOOKING for it, but if it came to him, he would.

Yes, he texts, but never outside of absolute necessity. Or if his brothers remind him of April's birthday.

He likes to read

Even if Donnie, Mikey and Raph are together in the lair having fun, Leo is often by himself somewhere else.

He recharges alone. He does calligraphy and he sketches SOMETIMES. Little stick figures fighting with space guns or something.

But a lot of what he reads are super geeky stuff. Like star wars novels or manga.

But don't tell anyone.

Splinter is his preferred company. He adores time with his dad. He'll spar and train and talk with his dad often.

Doesn't care about having friends but he wants a girlfriend SUPER badly. More than all three of his brothers combined

Being alone with him sucks if you like to talk. He gives you a LOOK that SCREAMS shut the fuck up.

It takes EXTREMLY specific personalities to get Leo a little soft for them. A quiet person with a good sense of humor.

And the likely hood he'll ever get out to find and meet them is next to none existent.

But hey

Even after like, ALL OF THIS

It's not hard to get Leo to smile

[covehearted]

I'm not sure if you've already done anything like this, and if you're not comfortable at all with the subject please ignore this request!! 😭

A loved one of mine passed away over the holidays and I was wondering if you had any headcannons for Cove abt helping mc with greif?

Ofc please don't feel pressure or force yourself!! :((

Your writing is always a pleasure to read. I wish you the best!!🫶

≻ — Cove helping you cope with grief

Tags: Discussion of loss, hurt/comfort

A/N: I'm sorry for your loss, anon. I hope I was able to write something that helped.

Cove Holden

There's nothing in the world that hurts Cove more than knowing you're in pain. He doesn't know how to handle the way your hurting makes him feel and he wishes he knew the exact right thing to say to make it all go away. But he doesn't.

When he sees you, curled up in your room with your body shaking, a breath away from falling apart – he freezes.

Loss isn’t something Cove is all too familiar with. Yes, his parents divorced and his family was separated but that was a different kind of loss entirely from the loss of a life, of a loved one. He hasn’t lost a relative like this. His maternal grandparents were still alive. He didn’t know anyone from his father’s side of the family.

He didn’t know how you felt and that tore him up inside. He wants to help so badly.

But when you look up at him, tired and teary, his own heart breaks. He doesn’t know the right thing to say because no magic words can undo your pain. But he can be there for you. And maybe that’s enough.

He opens his arms wide, a silent offer for comfort if you want physical contact. When you nod, a little sob finally breaking free from your chest he doesn’t hesitate to cross the room and into your space. He wraps himself around you, pulling you against his when he sits on your bed.

You’re safe like this. You can cling to his arm and cry as hard as you need to, if you want to scream then scream. Your emotions aren’t going to frighten him. You aren’t wrong for feeling and he’ll be with you through it, without judgment.

If you can’t express your feelings, if you’re so shocked you feel numb, that’s fine too. There’s no right way to grieve. There’s no right way to feel your emotions. He’ll hold you all the same, resting his cheek on the crown of your head and letting you know that no matter what, he’s there.

How you process your feelings isn’t anyone else’s business and Cove will gladly say that to anyone’s face if they have a problem. There isn’t a set timeline for recovery, you just need to take it day by day, moment by moment.

His arms squeeze tighter around you, wanting the warmth of his skin to ground you and remind you that you’re here, he’s here, and you’re so loved.

Someday the pain will settle. The loss you feel and the ache in your chest will be washed over, taken in, and reincorporated into your “normal” like footprints getting washed away by the tide.

It was alright that you weren't okay today. He would stay beside you until you were and every day after that.