#i had art dysmorphia.
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#ranwan#2ha#mo ran#chu wanning#i had to look through a lot of my art to find these and im just here to say why did i think my 2ha art was bad?????????????#i had art dysmorphia.#like this isn't one of the pieces im especially pleased with but like everything else was really good#id in alt text#mart (my art)
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woo woo topsurgery waitlist vent comic incoming woo woo
#cw body horror#cw dysphoria#cw body dysmorphia#THOSE👏THANGS👏AINT👏MINE#i had this in my drafts for weeks cus i wasnt sure abt posting but that dendrogaster comic made me wanna#i want 2 b clear that the size is not that much of an exaggeration. these things are ~11lbs and absolutely unhideable#my art tag
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Souviens-toi de la première fois, où nos regards s'étaient croisés Même que ton œil disait merde à l'autre, surtout à moi Mais pourquoi moi, alors que les autres te trouvaient bien trop laide Peut-être que moi, je suis trop bête, mais je sais t'écouter Ave Cesaria - Stromae
My gift for @tachocracy for @secretsolenoid-revived this year! I hope you all love it as much as I loved drawing it. I've been wanting to do a zine about Knockout and his specific way of grieving in TFP so I was so excited to receive this prompt.
#tfp#kobd#bdko#tfp knockout#tfp breakdown#secret solenoid#maccadam#tfp bulkhead#tfp cylas#tfp silas#ugh i messed up the tags so I had to post this again I really hope I didn't miss peak#I really want this to be seen lmao#my art#tw: blood robogore death dysmorphia#knockout#breakdown#bulkhead#cylas
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I managed to have some free time because a professor was absent
#[.art]#self#I've been working on some other illustrations from books I'm reading but those are still unfinished so you get my warmups#and my autumn/winter outfits apparently#btw maybe I'm just coming out of body dysmorphia ed hell maybe it's what happens when you get closer to your twenties but/#/I feel like I've lost the babyface I had in highschool? not in the sense that I'm angular now just. I look older#perhaps not My Age but. older#which is intensly weird I was absolutely used to thinking I had a round face but apparently not really that much#insane and unfair. Unsharpen yourself
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I need to put this into the world, but Gale's abs don't bother me...or more like I can get why they're there for 2 reasons; 1) I've heard enough stories about those who strive for what are essentially show abs to know they can actually be weak af. I had brothers in sports during the 90s, I have witnessed things. and 2) Um...this is darkish, darker?
but I figured he always made his body into what Mystra wanted. With his people pleaser personality, it tracks. Particularly when you see the Drow twins and realize that he is not exactly comfortable with himself and he's uncomfortable with the whole situation. Being depressed for a year pre-game could've made him double down on his needing to look perfect for Mystra mindset in part as an additional form of punishment.
Anyways, fuck Mystra.
This is all headcanon bs and, as a plus-sized person, I am in full support of pudgy Gale and especially post game I have healed pudgy Gale. Let him be fat! And let it be utterly joyful as well!
#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#you don't have to side with me here#i wish we could've had a wider range of body types not just in the creater but in the world as well#this is just be expressing a rationalization for why an 8 str stat doesn’t necessarily mean no abs lmao😅#i mean dex is also there and for the most part a more commonly used physical stat for classes#dex based characters also have abs in art all the time#bg3#baldur's gate 3#i bring up dex because when you consider 10 as average#and gale has a 13 dex#that's...above average#i give up when it comes to typos in tags#tw body dysmorphia#I'm assuming that would cover the idea I'm going with here#not to mention#tw grooming#tw self harm#potentially?!
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It's colder this weekend so i am dressing super masc
#my art#my face#i am quite broad but ehh i have my binder on so my body dysmorphia isnt hitting hard today#so i can draw myself which is nice#monster looks like scorpio so it's vriska now#i dont have monster today but i have 2 bottles of pepsi max and i had an ice coffee#yes my gender presentation is heavily influenced by the weather and also who im around
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finally did an actual body dysmorphia inspired digital painting...
which is ironic because I don't feel as bad about my self as often anymore—
tw: nudity, self harm and impalement
also gross over sharing in the tags
#art#digital art#digital painting#illustration#body dysmorphia#tw dysmorphia#self h@rm#impaled#vent#vent art#eyestrain#i am only a little depressed now#so i kinda have the energy to make stuff and I actually had a productive day today#devihashiart#shout out to pmdd for making whatever else is wrong with me worse#and since its been a shitty month so far that don't help 🤣#i put fat on the bar because it gets the point across but i actually feel the opposite#by that i mean i actually want to get thicker and i feel ugly for not being as ''filled out'' even though im chubbyish already#but i used to be called fat when i was younger anyway#so back then i wasn't good enough because i wasn't skinny and now I don't feel good enough because im not as ''thicc'' as some others#🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 im ending my life before i hit 25#can you tell i have no self worth#also I can't view myself objectively/properly
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thin as air
WARNING: Mentions of anorexia and body dysmorphia, violence, injury, unhealthy relationships, dark themes, rough handling, unhealthy attachment.
PAIRING: Art the Clown x Anorexic! Reader
NOTE: Hey, just sharing this because i know a lot of us are going through it too. It’s very scary. I’m in a rough spot myself so i wanted to write something that might feel like a weird kind of comfort, even if it’s dark and messy. Remember, it’s fiction; take care of yourself. Love you all, take what you need <3 (Also this is in first person.)
SUMMARY: Art’s affection is all-consuming, and you don’t quite understand why you’re the object of his twisted love. There is NOTHING sexual even if it may sound like it!!
Sometimes, I wonder if Art even knows what I am – this mess of bones, thin skin, hollow eyes. I see the way he looks at me, with that dead, unwavering gaze of his. The way his black-rimmed eyes flicker over my body, taking in every protruding rib, every visible vein. It’s like he’s fascinated by me, by this shell of a person I’ve become.
And honestly? I’m just as fascinated by him.
I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know why it happened. I don’t even know if Art knows why he’s here with me, this painted monster, this creature who has taken me as his own. He’s rough, always has been – he’s broken one of my bones before. My wrist, I think it was, his grip too tight in one of his fits of… whatever it is he feels. Love, rage, lust? I don’t know. I don’t think Art knows either. But he’s always there, his hands wandering over me like he can’t get enough, even as he’s hurting me.
It’s like he’s drawn to my fragility.
I guess that’s the irony. I’m so close to death already, bones so thin you could snap them with a careless touch, a body starved down to the barest scraps. Sometimes I think that’s what he’s here for – to watch me die slowly, to revel in the sight of me wasting away. I wonder if that’s the appeal, the reason he never leaves.
But then he’ll reach out, his hand cupping my cheek with a gentleness I didn’t know he was capable of. And I realize – no. That’s not it at all. He’s here because he loves me. Art loves me.
It doesn’t make sense. But it doesn’t have to. Not to him, not to me.
I think he likes the sharp edges of my bones, the way my body feels fragile beneath his hands. There’s something about the way he touches me, careful sometimes, rough others, like he’s afraid I’ll break if he’s not careful – but sometimes he forgets. Sometimes he’ll grip me too tight, his fingers pressing into my skin with enough force to leave bruises, marks that will linger for days.
Once, when he’d been particularly careless, I felt something crack beneath his fingers. The pain had been sharp, sudden, and I’d cried out, my voice weak, but he’d just stared, his head tilting to the side as if he were studying a work of art. And maybe, to him, I am. A fragile, breakable thing, something he can hold in his hands and twist, bend to his will.
But he’d stopped then, his hands falling away, his eyes wide with something like surprise. He hadn’t meant to hurt me.
The thing is, I love him too. Maybe that’s the sickest part of it all, the fact that I look at him, at this monster who kills without remorse, who breaks me without meaning to, and I feel something like warmth in my chest. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I feel this way, why I keep letting him touch me, hold me, break me.
Maybe it’s because he sees me. In his own strange way, Art sees me. He sees the parts of me that I try to hide, the emptiness that gnaws at me from the inside, the hunger that never seems to go away. He sees the hollowness in my eyes, the way I wither away piece by piece, and he doesn’t turn away. He doesn’t tell me to stop, doesn’t tell me I need to eat, to get better.
He just… stays.
I don’t think I’ll ever understand it. But in a way, it’s comforting. Because in his silence, in his wordless presence, I find a strange sense of belonging. I find a twisted kind of love, the kind that doesn’t judge, that doesn’t demand anything of me except to exist. To be here, with him, in whatever form I am.
And maybe that’s enough.
Sometimes, when he’s lying beside me, his hand resting on my hip, his touch feather-light as if he’s afraid to press down too hard, I’ll close my eyes and pretend that he’s human. That he’s just a man, lying beside me, his warmth seeping into my skin. But then I’ll feel his fingers tighten, his grip growing possessive, and I’m reminded of what he is – a killer, a creature who takes lives without a second thought.
But he doesn’t take mine.
No matter how close I get, no matter how many times I think this is it, that I’ll finally slip away, he’s always there. Sometimes I wonder if he’d let me die if I truly wanted to, if he’d just sit back and watch as I faded into nothing. But I think he’d fight for me. I think he’d drag me back, kicking and screaming, because he loves me.
I feel his hands on me again, his touch rough and insistent, and I can feel the bruises blooming beneath his fingers, but I don’t mind. I welcome the pain, the reminder that I’m still here, still alive. And in that moment, with his body pressed against mine, I don’t feel empty. I feel full, filled with something dark and consuming, something that threatens to swallow me whole.
And maybe that’s the real reason he’s here – not to watch me die, but to keep me alive.
The days blend together when he’s gone. Time’s got this funny way of stretching and folding over on itself in his absence, like the hours are conspiring to keep me waiting. I lose track of them – they bleed together in a mess of dark corners and quiet. Every so often, I glance over at the door, waiting for him to appear in that grimy frame, caked in blood and staring with that quiet, maddening intensity. But every time, there’s just silence. And the longer he’s gone, the more I start to wonder if maybe this is it.
If maybe, he’s not coming back.
I tell myself that’s probably a good thing. That maybe he’s off killing for good this time, slipping into someone else’s nightmare. And yet, there’s this ache that gnaws at me, dull and hollow, a feeling like missing something I never thought I’d have. Because even as he breaks me, even as he holds me with a grip that threatens to splinter bone, Art feels like the only real thing in my life. The only solid, terrifying constant.
So when the door finally creaks open, it feels like time itself stops – or maybe, like it finally begins to move again.
He steps inside, dragging a heavy, metallic scent of blood with him, his face painted in his usual grin but with something else lurking beneath. Something dark, simmering – anger. But it’s not at me; I know that look. And on his head, absurdly, he’s wearing a Santa hat, the red fluff soaked a deep maroon where it caught a spatter of blood.
I almost laugh. He looks unhinged and festive all at once, as if he’s ripped the hat off some poor soul in the middle of one of his routines. Art stands there, his eyes narrowing as they settle on me, like he’s deciding something. But even angry, even with whatever it is simmering beneath the surface, I know he wouldn’t hurt me. Not on purpose.
He prowls toward me, closing the distance in a way that has my heart stumbling over itself, and I’m caught between fear and comfort. I sit up, my mouth dry as I watch him approach, swallowing hard against the question that’s been burning in me since he left.
“I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d come back.” My voice cracks, barely more than a whisper.
He stops, staring down at me, his mouth stretching wider into that unsettling smile. Art doesn’t talk, but his eyes – there’s something fierce and sharp in them, a promise I can feel. He tilts his head, raising one finger, wagging it back and forth like he’s scolding me for even thinking it. Like the very idea of him leaving for good is ridiculous.
And maybe it is. Maybe Art’s always going to come back, no matter how many people he kills or how far he roams.
I’m still staring at that absurd hat, unable to help myself. “…Did you kill Santa?”
He gives a low, soundless laugh, his shoulders shaking as he reaches up and tips the hat toward me, his face stretching wider in a mockery of something playful. It’s disturbing and almost sweet all at once, like a monster trying to be human. He’s close now, and I can feel the roughness of his gloved hand as he brushes it over my cheek, trailing down to the sharp line of my jaw. His touch is careful, just enough pressure to remind me he’s here – and that I’m his.
“What?” I say, my voice shaky but edged with a faint smile. “You bring me a Christmas hat instead of a present?”
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he lifts his hand, holding it up as if to say ‘wait.’ Then he reaches behind him, pulling something from the garbage bag he always carries around. It’s a small, battered box, dented and stained but unmistakably a gift.
I look at him, surprised, and he just grins wider, holding it out. My hands shake as I take it, heart pounding as I pry the lid open. Inside is… a ring. Old and tarnished, probably pried off a victim. But it’s beautiful.
He watches as I slide it on, something warm flickering in his eyes – if anything warm could ever live in those black pits. There’s no need for words. His gaze says it all, a silent declaration that I’m his and he’s mine, even if it makes no sense, even if it’s a nightmare stitched together by blood and broken bones.
The absurdity of it hits me, and I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in ages. “Guess this makes it official, huh?”
Art raises one hand in a mock toast, his grin impossibly wide, and for a second, the air between us feels almost… normal. Like we’re two people who understand each other in a way no one else could.
#art the clown#art the clown x reader#terrifier#terrifier x reader#terrifier 2#terrifer 3#slasher#slashers#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#x reader#fanfic#oneshot
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Confidentiality - Chapter 5. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader
Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?
Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader
T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking. Dark themes are to be expected.
A/N: Forgive me; this chapter is absolute shit! Publishing this makes me feel very ashamed and disappointed in myself. I hate this so much, but it's probably the best what I can do right now. I hope I didn't let you down and hope you won't lose your interest for this story because of this chapter. Also, this chapter has only Mingi (finally), Jongho, and the stalker, whoever that might be. I swear the story won't be about Jongho all the time although he's been in a lot of chapters, since he is important at the beginning. I hope I'm not wasting your time with this, and that at least someone will find this enjoyable :,) Thank you for reading!
Word count: 4 641
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“Is this really necessary?”
“Just take my hand. How do you think the stalker is going to notice we’re in a relationship otherwise?”
At Jongho’s question, you began to ponder. The stalker would notice anyway that there was something supposedly between you and Jongho, so why did you have to hold hands with him?
Nonetheless, you grabbed Jongho’s warm hand, intertwining your fingers together. It was supposed to look romantic and make everyone think you were two lovebirds flying on cloud 9, but it looked most likely awkward. That’d work too, you supposed. After all, the first stages of relationships sometimes felt embarrassing.
“Fake relationship, remember.”
Jongho scoffed, “Do you think I’d be in a real relationship with you?”
That hurt. You had been rejected before by romantic and platonic interests, but none of them had talked to you like you were a repulsive, filthy animal looming in the sewers.
“No...”
He just glanced at you as you gave your dejected reply. It was clearly not in his interest to make you feel loved, but it was probably better for him to be brutally honest, than fool you into thinking the act of being a couple wasn’t just pretending.
“I hope the performance won’t be a waste of our time,” Jongho murmured.
It had been his idea to go together to a Valentine’s Day event the city had arranged. What could be more romantic than holding hands and watching awful music performances by unknown wannabe artists while freezing to death?
The stage in front of you was decorated with red paper hearts and white balloons in a bad taste, being a shameful insult to art. Maybe it was supposed to get people on festive mood yet it only gave everyone who looked at it a headache. You were already feeling anxious to have so many people around you in the audience, but you had to endure it; Jongho had demanded you to stay with him for your own safety. The moment you’d leave his sight, the stalker could strike.
Just then, you saw a familiar person step on the stage with overflowing confidence.
“Is that... Mingi?” you murmured in shock, more to yourself than Jongho.
The man holding your hand couldn’t answer to you. Jongho was usually so calm and collected, so it amused you greatly to see him, lips parted and eyes wide, trying to make sense out of the sight in front of him.
“Mingus Dingus in the house! Fix on!”
A couple people from the crowd cheered at his arrival. The rest of the audience, at least 70 people, were whispering to each other and wondering who Mingi was.
“Apparently, this poor excuse of a city doesn’t have enough money to use on events anymore.”
“Yeah. I have no idea who this is. Possibly some homeless man, that they found from the streets and promised to give dinner money to if he performed.”
You heard a couple men next to you talk poorly about Mingi, which made your heart ache. Mingi didn’t seem like a bad person, completely opposite actually. He was passionate about his music and had both courage and energy to keep doing what he loved. That was admirable.
Tensing up as the music started playing, you squeezed Jongho’s hand tighter without even noticing. This performance would turn out to be a catastrophe, a total fiasco, and a hit on your already fragile mental health. You couldn’t handle seeing people fail, it just made you want to bury yourself so you would never have to see something like that again.
But as Mingi opened his mouth and his self-written lyrics started flowing out, you found yourself flabbergasted. Even impressed.
“Sent it off in the wind, every photo, every piece of my heart...”
Jongho seemed to listen to Mingi’s performance as well with perked up ears.
“It was tough for me to see a single letter, so I sent it all away...”
Mingi’s voice made you feel all kinds of things. It was impossible to pinpoint the exact names for them, but the emotions in his voice and the lyrics hit you deep in the heart. It was something unexplainable.
You watched the performance and the way Mingi’s eyes shined with flames of passion that could not be put out. It was something that nobody could fake; only people who truly loved what they were doing would be able to captivate like that. It was so vulnerable, like he was opening up to everyone who listened.
Unfortunately, a lot of people didn’t bother to listen. They were leaving little by little, and by the end of the song, only about 30 people were still listening to what Mingi wanted to express through his music.
“Come on, Y/N. Let’s leave.”
Before you could control your reactions, you answered Jongho firmly, “No. I want to listen.”
You would have never dared to speak like that to anyone, let alone to Jongho, but Mingi’s song had woken up both your emotions and loyalty to him as his new fan.
It went unnoticed by you how Jongho’s expression darkened at your refusal. His grip tightened on your hand but all you cared about in that moment was Mingi.
As the performance continued, the rest of the audience left as well. It even made you angry. Of course, people had the right to leave if a performance didn’t interest them, but how could they be so deaf to the art Mingi had created?
It was the most freezing day of February, but you couldn’t care less about your shivering body or the cold wind that almost pushed you down. It was like even the wind didn’t care about Mingi’s songs and wanted to push you away from the stage. The way his performance set the stage on fire warmed your body and soul in the cold.
At last, the performance ended. Mingi had given his whole soul to it, to reach people’s ears and hearts, but you were the only one whose heart he had successfully won over.
Only two people, you and Jongho, had stayed the whole time. As the last chords of the song played, you stared at Mingi in awe, head empty and heart full. He looked at the audience he had left, and despite the lack of people, bowed deep and respectfully. He was thankful that he hadn’t been left completely alone, to perform for the emptiness.
“Fix off.”
Jongho tried to hold onto your hand tightly, but you ripped it away from his grip to applaud Mingi. Your lonely yet sincere claps reached Mingi’s ears, and he casted a smile for you. Then he left the stage.
“Y/N, don’t-”
You didn’t care about Jongho’s demand. Only thing you needed to do now was to run to Mingi and tell him how much his performance meant for you. How amazing he was. How he had managed to touch your heart. Unlike usually, you weren’t interested in the possibility of embarrassing yourself.
Your hurried steps reached Mingi fast, although the headwind was slightly slowing you down. He was facing another direction, head turned downwards.
“Mingi! Your performance was amazing! I never could have guessed you were that talented,” you spoke, sounding a bit too excited.
Hopefully Mingi wouldn’t think of you as some deranged fan.
But you hadn’t expected to see tears on his face as he turned around to look into your eyes.
“Don’t lie to me. I know no-one liked it.”
Speechless, you looked at Mingi’s heartbreaking expression. Warm tears were glistening in his eyes and streaming down his face. Lips pressed in a tight line, he looked somehow offended at your comment, trying to hold onto his dignity.
“I don’t know what I was thinking, coming here. I have no talent.”
You frowned at Mingi’s words, “Do you think I would have stayed here and rushed to compliment you, if I hadn’t liked your performance?”
Jongho had walked up to you silently and was standing next to you, hands in the pockets of his jacket. The look on his face directed at you was even colder than the air, as he listened you praise Mingi.
“I would have left with the other people if your performance hadn’t been good.”
At your words, even more tears welled up in Mingi’s eyes. He looked away from you, probably feeling embarrassed to show such vulnerability in front of you and Jongho.
“I just want you to know that your lyrics, songs and voice impressed me. They made me feel... things,” you rambled on before starting to realize you were way too passionate.
A hopeful expression crossed Mingi’s face, before disappearing like he was afraid to get his hopes up and heart broken, “What kind of things?”
You were getting shy under Mingi and Jongho’s eyes. It was too late to act coy now; you had already revealed your overwhelming emotions Mingi’s songs had managed to bring up to the surface.
On top of everything, you could relate to him. He worked so hard to be seen and appreciated, but got only ridiculing snorts and ignorance as a response. Some people were born to be insignificant in others’ eyes while the rest were born lucky to be acknowledged. To be seen wasn’t something to take for granted.
“I could relate to your songs. The emotions you showed in your performance uncovered something in me that I have tried to forget.”
It was almost a magical moment to see Mingi’s eyes sparkle. Could have been the tears that made it look like his eyes shined, but there was more to it. All of his dreams had been accomplished when he heard that his songs finally managed to reach someone’s ears. That he had been seen at last.
“Thank you! Thank you so much! I will never forget what you said!” Mingi suddenly grabbed both of your hands in his, holding tightly to them like you were his salvation.
“That’s enough,” Jongho ripped your hands forcefully out of the taller man’s grip.
Sure, Jongho had to act like you were a couple, but was it really fair to treat Mingi like that? You had already lost your confidence that had emerged from nowhere before, so you had no courage to say anything. You had to remember, Jongho was still a man and much stronger than you; it would be hard to fight back if he decided he had had enough of your attitude.
“I can hold her hands if I want to. What are you, her boyfriend?”
“In fact, I am. So, keep your hands to yourself,” Jongho warned Mingi.
Mingi looked suddenly devastated, which surprised you. His mouth was agape, trying to say something. He didn’t manage to let anything past his lips other than his silent breathing. He was left behind as Jongho led you away.
Later on, you arrived at a park. To your luck, the park still had people wandering around although the sky was already turning dark. Although Jongho had promised to protect you, you didn’t want to be left alone with any man after the sun had set. String lights set to hang from the leafless trees lit up your way as you walked hand in hand with him.
“Look at that! An ice rink!” you gasped, pointing at an ice rink in the park, not being able to hide your excitement. You hadn’t been ice skating since forever.
Jongho gave you a judging side-eye, “Too expensive. Let’s go drink hot chocolate.”
You had no courage to fight back his idea, so you let him lead you to a stall selling all kinds of drinks and treats. To be honest, you felt like this was actually romantic and fit the Valentine’s Day although you were spending it with a fake boyfriend. With a man who had implied he would never date you.
“Two hot chocolates. Sizes small and large,” Jongho said to the man keeping the stall.
Well honestly, he was more like a boy. He looked the age of 17 and extremely bored. You couldn’t blame him since he had been holding the stall probably for hours already, trying to earn some pathetic amount of pocket money.
You dug for your wallet, prepared to pay for the small sized drink, since Jongho most likely had ordered the large one for himself. He could have at least asked which size you wanted; the small one would not be enough to quench your thirst.
“I’ll pay,” Jongho said and pushed a carton mug full of hot chocolate into your hands.
The fact that he promised to pay surprised you already, but you noticed that the mug he had given you was the size large.
“Thank you...” you mumbled, looking up in Jongho’s eyes.
His blank stare made you uncomfortable. Why did he never smile at you? It wasn’t very convincing to never crack a smile at you, when you were supposed to act like a couple in love.
You two found a bench to sit on under a tree. It was a beautiful spot, the perfect place for you to sit next to each other, huddle for warmth and share tender kisses – that was if you two had been actually dating. There was just one problem: the bench was covered in thick layer of snow after last night’s storm.
“Are you really suggesting this spot? I’d look like I had wet myself after sitting on that.”
“You can sit on my lap. That way your ass won’t get wet.”
Jongho’s proposal made your eyes widen. He was truly shameless.
And finally, it happened. He smiled at you – although it was a mischievous one, it was the first smile you had ever seen on his face. The emotionless man was forgotten as you watched how his cheeks, slightly red because of the cold air, rounded out and made him look like a teddy bear.
“You’re always so closed off, trying to hide your emotions,” Jongho said.
Look who’s talking. He wasn’t exactly the most open person in the world either.
“I’m not closed off. Both you and Mingi saw how emotional I got over his songs.”
Ever so slightly, Jongho’s expression darkened. His smile was long gone and he sighed in frustration.
“I’m musical too, you know? I may not rap as well as Mingi but I can sing.”
“Really? Prove it,” you challenged him.
“No. You don’t deserve to hear my singing,” Jongho took a sip of his drink.
“Fine. Then I’ll assume Mingi is better.”
It was a risky game to play with Jongho. His reaction could be anything, but you couldn’t stop yourself before teasing him. You were getting way too comfortable. You knew it was dangerous, but you had been craving to have a friend for so long. Now that someone was actually willingly wasting their time on you, it felt like a chance to a new start.
“I’ll sing for you one day but first, I want to give you something.”
You raised a brow at Jongho’s statement, and your heartbeat quickened as he pulled something out of his bag.
Could it be a Valentine’s Day gift? Maybe a flower or a heart-shaped chocolate box?
But it had been a mistake to let your guard slightly down around Jongho. He proved to you right at that moment that he shouldn’t have been trusted. That you should have run away and hid from him when you had the chance.
The object in his hand was unrecognizable in the dark at first. You could only see the gleam of the yard lights reflected on the object, making you finally realize what it was.
Jongho tossed his hot chocolate cup away, symbolizing how all of his sweet gestures had been a skillful play thrown away as well, just like your whole relationship. Now his other hand was completely free to use, while the other one held a pocket knife.
You wanted to scream or try to convince him to spare your life, but you were speechless. Only thing you managed to do was take a few, shaky steps away from him, the monster in front of you.
He didn’t let you get further away as he followed you with a gleam in his eyes that screamed insanity.
“Do you fear death or me?” Jongho asked calmy.
You glanced at the park. It was like everyone had suddenly disappeared. There was no savior for you if Jongho attacked. You would lose your life alone in the darkness before anyone could have come to your rescue.
“A-Aren’t they the same thing?”
Jongho shook his head with a chuckle, “Death sets you free. I will never do that.”
His words rang in your ears for a split second before you dashed. Time was running out.
“Y/N! Stop!”
You didn’t even hear Jongho’s shout. No matter how loud he could have screamed at you, there was no chance you’d stop. You had to run out of the park and reach other people before Jongho could catch you and brutally pierce and cut your body, until you were unrecognizable to the police. Maybe even Yunho would be the one to find you. Yunho who wasn’t the stalker despite all your baseless suspicions.
But one of the worst things, that was possible in that moment, happened. The ground under your feet was on ice and betrayed you ultimately. Your heart almost stopped as you lost your balance.
Your cry of pain echoed in the park as your head smashed onto the ground, although your back had received the worst impact of falling on ice. It hurt like hell, but even in all your suffering, you couldn’t think of anything else than about the fact that this was the end. You had tried to trust other people and this was the result. In your intense pain and on the brink of unconsciousness, you didn’t even notice as Jongho got on his knees next to you on the ground.
Tears ran down your cheeks, but you couldn’t even beg for your life. It was futile.
Last thing your mind registered before fainting was Jongho’s warm hand petting your head.
It felt like you had been unconscious for eternity when in reality it had been only 20 minutes or so. When you finally opened your eyes, you found your surroundings familiar. The person next to you was familiar as well.
“You fainted.”
No words left your lips, but your eyes told everything. You were terrified and confused.
“I brought you here after you lost your consciousness.”
You glanced at the room. It was your own apartment, everything in their own places, but it still seemed so wrong and unsafe, because of the man in front of you. The couch you found comfortable every other day, felt way too stiff in that moment, making the pain in your back worse.
“That doesn’t explain why I’m alive. What do you want from me?” you managed to utter out, but the wavering in your voice didn’t go unnoticed.
Jongho turned his face away with a guilty look. It was clear he regretted something.
“It was all just a really bad joke. I didn’t mean to scare you that much.”
The mix of anger and relief felt odd; you didn’t know whether to scream at him or cry in happiness that you didn’t get murdered. But you were too scared of him to show any reactions. Even if it had been just a joke, only a deranged person would scare others like that for their own entertainment.
That’s why you forced yourself to forgive him.
“...I forgive you” you gritted through your teeth.
“I didn’t apologize though.”
Your anger only flared up at Jongho’s arrogant response. First, he had seemed guilty for scaring you to death, but any ounce of regret you thought he had, was out of the window. Soon, Jongho would be out of the window as well; you didn’t want to see his remorseless face at that moment.
“Get out of my house.”
You had turned to look away from him, because you were afraid, you’d lash out at him.
Jongho looked even slightly hurt at your words. The frown on his face was an indication of his growing agitation and refusal to leave that easily.
“Do you want me to say sorry then?”
“No,” you murmured, “It’s too late for that.”
“Exactly. And I’m not sorry anyways,” Jongho scoffed, “I had to see how you’d react if the stalker was about to kill you. Think of it as practice. It was for your own good.”
Taking in a deep breath, you tried to stay calm. It could be dangerous to anger the man even more, although you were the only one who had the right to be angry at that moment. And God, you were furious.
“For my own good? I got a concussion and nearly broke my back!”
“If you don’t appreciate me looking out for you, we can end this fake relationship.”
Looking out for you? You couldn’t believe the audacity that man had.
“Then let’s end this.”
Jongho seemed to be stunned by your words – as stunned as a man that stoic and cold could be. You even felt a sense of glee at the tiny look of panic on his face.
“No. I wasn’t serious. I just felt irritated because you don’t see how I want to protect you.”
But you didn’t fall for that. You had no intention to be a victim of his manipulation.
As you attempted to stand up from the couch, you whimpered in agony. The pain on your back was unbearable, but you were more concerned about the piercing headache, feeling like your head was being squished by a hydraulic press.
“Let me-” Jongho started, getting up and trying to help you.
“Don’t touch me.”
You stepped away from him, feeling afraid once again. Could you be blamed for that, when just a half an hour ago you feared for your life because of that man? Even though it had been supposedly a joke, you couldn’t shake off the sense of panic at Jongho walking closer.
“I’m sorry.”
“Get out,” you sighed, “Please.”
The bright lights in your apartment hurt your head even more, and you barely stayed on your feet. Although your eyes were getting blurry, you managed to see Jongho’s sad face and him walking towards your front door.
The apartment was silent as you sat down again, rubbing your temples and trying to ease the pain. The heavy tension hadn’t left although Jongho had. You didn’t know how to meet him again at the therapy session in a few days.
That Valentine’s Day had seemed successful at first, and you had enjoyed Mingi’s performance despite the heartbreak you felt at seeing his anguish. Even conversing with Jongho had been nice until his poor attempt of a joke. What was supposed to be a day of friendship and romance – even fake kind – ended up in being horrifying.
You really needed rest, some way to forget the headache for a while, so you fell asleep on the couch. Maybe the dizziness and Jongho’s “joke” would be just distant memories after a good nap, although you doubted that you’d ever forget Jongho’s face as he had creeped closer to you at the park.
It might have been 30 minutes or so when the sound of a doorbell woke you up. If it was Jongho, you wouldn’t even open the door, not prepared to hear his excuses.
Reluctantly, you dragged yourself to the door, wincing in pain every step you took. One look from the peephole revealed, that instead of Jongho, there was a man with flowers. He looked serious and exhausted but his silly little cap made him look less scary.
“Flowers for miss Y/N L/N,” the man forced a smile on his face as you opened the door.
Your heart fluttered. Someone had remembered you and sent you flowers. It could have been your family who sent the beautiful, bright yellow roses, since they wanted to remind you that they loved you despite all of the things they had done to you.
Or maybe it could have been from the stalker.
Nonetheless, you had to accept the roses, no matter how much their thorns could hurt you. They could prickle you with longing or draw blood from your fingers with promises of terror, but your curiosity got the best of you.
You set the roses down on your dinner table when you noticed that they had a little letter tied to them with a pink ribbon.
“Your pathetic boyfriend didn’t even give you a gift. Look what I brought.”
Your blood ran cold. It was no doubt of who had sent you this. Still, you wanted to believe it could have been Mingi instead, even though he didn’t even know where you lived. Anything but the indisputable truth that the sender was indeed the stalker.
But it wasn’t the end of your shock. You wanted to cry when you noticed another thing as well – a pink envelope that had come with the rose, inviting you to open it. There were heart stickers on it, one of them being a shiny teddy bear holding a heart. The envelope wanted to cast a spell on you and make you so scared yet curious, that you couldn’t stop yourself from seeing what it contained.
And it definitely succeeded in that, although you tried your best to ignore it, to leave it unopened for the sake of your own sanity.
Seven pieces of paper were revealed to be inside of it.
You hated these envelopes so much. You despised the drawings, pictures and letters you had to see because you were just too curious to stay in blissful ignorance.
Six out of seven of the pieces of paper had drawings on them. They were drawings of parts of a human body. Two pieces of arms, two of legs, one torso and one head. It had been clearly one whole drawing, one whole body of a woman, before having been cut into six pieces. The head even had a pout on it and hair similarly styled as yours.
Confused about the drawing, you prepped yourself to take a look at the 7th piece of paper. The drawing was definitely a threat, there was no doubt of that, but you craved to understand it deeper. Although the whole thing made you feel nauseous, you needed to know what kind of and level of peril you were in – and to do that, you had to bite the bullet.
There were words on the paper, written by a hand, whose writing style you recognized.
“I’ll cut off your arms if you try to fight back,” the first sentence said.
“I’ll cut off your legs if you try to escape,” the second sentence informed.
“I’ll cut off your head if your eyes wander on or lips kiss someone else.”
After you had read the final threat on the paper, you leaned on your chair, everything seemed to have slowed down. Your heartbeat was lazy and quiet, not overwhelmingly loud like in other moments of fear like this. It was so silent both in your head and the apartment, except for the rustling somewhere close. Right now, you needed Jongho. You didn’t have anyone else; only he could help, protect, and save you. He was the only person that wanted to hear your cries and see what he could do to stop you from hurting. Cursing yourself for kicking him out of your apartment, you wondered if he’d even agree to help you anymore. Maybe he’d still hug you and find the stalker to beat him up, and maybe, hopefully, he’d know where the quiet, almost inconspicuous, rustling noise in your apartment was coming from.
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<- Chapter 4.
Chapter 6. ->
Masterlist
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Taglist: @devilzliaison
#kpop fanfic#kpop x reader#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#choi jongho#choi san#jung wooyoung#kang yeosang#jeong yunho x reader#jeong yunho#kang yeosang x reader#choi san x reader#jung wooyoung x reader#choi jongho x reader#kim hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa#song mingi x reader#song mingi#ateez ff#yandere ateez#yandere kpop#yandere hongjoong#yandere seonghwa#yandere yunho#yandere yeosang#yandere san
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🔞MINORS DNI🔞
Body Art
Relationships: incubus oc (Lucius) x chubby!fem!reader
Summary: this is a self indulgant work because I'm a girl thats a little on the chunkier side and I've suffered body dysmorphia my whole life. I hope other chubby girlies can feel comforted by this work like how it comforts me. Also this is based off that drawing I did of the chubby reader in the lingerie this is what I said i was cooking lol
Tags: mentions of toys, body writing, comfort, mentions of body dysmorphia, oral sex, vaginal sex, body art, lingerie, switch dynamics, creampie, soft ooey gooey sweetness, laughter during sex, lucius being a huge goof
Length: 3.3k words
You stirred awake from the late morning sun shining through your window, and when you woke up, you noticed quickly that Lucius wasn’t there in your face or by your side like usual. It wasn’t uncommon, sometimes you woke up and he was in another room doing chores or making a silly art piece out of popsicle sticks and a deck of cards, but when you went to look for him, he wasn’t home at all. He didn’t carry a phone, so you couldn’t call him to ask where he was. Your question was answered when you found a little note stuck to the fridge with a heart-shaped magnet. It read: “Good morning, my love! I hope you slept well. I went out grocery shopping since we’re running low on some things. I’ll be home soon! XOXO your Lucius
Ps, I’m going to buy a few gifts for the both of us as well. I hope you’ll like what I bring home =;)”
You snorted, admiring the way he drew his little smiley faces with his horns. He was such a goof. You decided to make yourself some tea and sit on the couch for when he returns.
Around half an hour later, the lock of your front door clicked open, and in ducked your boyfriend in his human disguise, carrying tons of bags in one trip. His teal eyes lit up at the sight of you sitting on the sofa and he grinned wide. “Darling! You’re awake! How was your sleep?”
You put your cup down and came over to greet him. “Hi, Luci.” you stood up on your toes and he bent down for a kiss. “I slept fine. Are these all the bags?”
“Yep. I got everything on the list and a few extra things. Oh! And our presents.” he says the last part with a sing-song voice and holds up a pretty sizable black bag.
“Ooh, it’s heavy,” you say, weighing the bag in your hands. “What’d you get?”
“Patience, darling,” he says, putting all of the bags on the floor. “Let’s get all of this in the kitchen before we go through our spoils.”
You giggled. “Okay.”
After putting all of the groceries away, Lucius, now in his true form, excitedly led you to the living room with the black bag.
“Okay, so, context… you know when you said you wished you had some more toys the other night?”
“Is this whole bag filled with sex toys?” you ask, mouth agape.
“Yes! I picked out things especially for both you and me to use together!” he says with practically heart-shaped eyes. I got all of that and something extra special for you! Open it up!”
You pulled the bag closer to you, opening it up and pulling things out one by one. There was a small selection of dildos varying from reasonably sized to downright monstrous—he assured you that those were mostly for him unless you wanted to work towards using them one day—a couple of vibrating plugs, a rabbit vibrator—to which he said “the best for my bunny”—fuzzy handcuffs, a heart-shaped spanking paddle, a hank of black silk rope, a multi-coloured pack of skin safe graffiti markers for body writing, and most surprisingly, a strap-on. You blushed at this. “A strap?” you asked him.
“I did say I bought things for both of us.” he giggles, kissing your cheek.
You giggled, flustered. “O-oh, okay… gosh, so many new things to try…”
“And that’s not even the best part!” Lucius exclaims, looking like he was so excited he could explode. He pulled out a sleek box from a bag, handing it to you like it was Christmas morning.
You opened the box and gasped at what dwelled inside. It was a set of leather lingerie adorned with a zipper on the bra and the crotch of the panties with lace along the trim of both, leather thigh garters, and to top it off, a black leather collar with a big metal ring attached.
Lucius looked like hearts could pop out of his head. “Do you like it? When I saw it I immediately thought of how adorable you’d look! I might be biased because of my love of leather, but ahh, I can’t help it!”
“It’s beautiful Lucius, thank you…” you say, holding up the bra.
“My favourite part are the zippers.” he giggles, hugging you and swaying side to side. “It means I can ravage you without needing to take anything off! They’re so perfect…”
You flushed at the sinful thought of him unzipping the panties and taking you with them still on.
“Darling…” Lucius purrs.
“What?” you ask.
Lucius gave his best set of puppy eyes, clasping his hands to beg. “I really want to see you wearing them… pretty please? I’ll do whatever you want for a whole year…”
You snorted. “You don’t have to beg so much for that, Lucius, you goof. I’ll go change right now.”
The way the demon’s eyes lit up in such childlike joy made you wonder if he was suddenly ascending to heaven. You kissed him, called him a goober and took the box to your bedroom so you could do a grand reveal.
Once you had the door closed, you put the box on the bed and stripped. Once nude, you slipped on the panties, hooked on the thigh garters and their straps, then fitted your arms in the arm holes of the bra, zipping it up. Finally, you put the collar on, adjusting the big metal ring in front. At this point, you knew you were supposed to feel cute, but you couldn’t help but feel a little too exposed. Like, yeah, it’s lingerie, it’s supposed to be revealing… but the way it hugged your hips and squished your love handles felt… weird.
You looked into your tall mirror, trying to pinpoint where you felt wrong. Your eyes immediately went down to your belly and you frowned. To you, it looked like a busted can of biscuit dough spilling from a leather case. You pinched at the pudge that was being squished by the tight garment, lip wobbling as you felt so wrong. Your thighs in their garters looked like they were being squeezed to death, even though they weren’t that tight, and you couldn’t help but think the collar did nothing more than highlight the fat on your face. Your face fell when you realized that you hated how you looked in this garment and it made you feel terrible because Lucius was so excited…
A knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. “Darling, are you alright in there? Are you having trouble putting it on? I can help you!” he says with that teasing lilt. You couldn’t help the sad whimper that escaped your lips, and Lucius’s voice immediately softened. “Darling? Can I come in?”
“Y-yeah…” you sniff, trying to hold in the tears.
When Lucius opened the door, he gasped, his face immediately erupting in a blue blush. “Oh, Asmodeus… you’re so-!”
“Hideous…” you finished for him.
He stopped in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “What? No, sweetheart… I was going to say gorgeous! What’s wrong, my love? Do you not like the set?”
“N-no they’re fine… I just… I don’t like how I look… wearing them…” you mutter, looking back at your reflection.
“Oh, darling, darling, darling…” he says, walking over to you and wrapping his long arms around you. “I think you look fantastic… I’m practically salivating over here! What’s the matter?”
“Don’t I look too… big?” you ask.
“Oh, my love, don’t say things like that!” He says, gently grasping your chin and having you look at him. “You’re perfectly fine the way you are! You look so damn delicious that I’m going crazy trying to hold myself back!”
“Are you sure…?” you mumble.
“I’m one thousand percent sure. And if you’re having trouble seeing what I see from my words, then I’ll just have to show you through actions.”
Lucius’s pierced lips ghosted over yours as his large fingers intertwined with yours. “May I kiss you, darling? May I show you how beautiful you are to me?”
“Yes…” you breathed.
Lucius closed the gap, kissing you sweetly and passionately as his hands roamed down your creamy skin. His blue tongue invaded your mouth, and you sighed as one of his roaming hands groped your leather-bound breast. Gently, he guided you to your shared bed, laying you down and leaning on top of you.
“My beautiful, soft master…” he sighed, still groping your breast and kissing your neck. “So sweet and wonderful to cuddle… like a sweet teddy bear…”
You bit your lip as Lucius unzipped your bra, revealing one of your nipples, licking around it and popping it into his mouth. You moaned as he softly tugged the hardening bud between his teeth and he grinned. “Does that feel good, bunny?”
“Y-yeah…” you sigh.
“Mmmh… good… I love it when you feel good… so delicious…” Lucius revealed your other nipple, giving it the same amount of attention. “Oh, so sensitive… I love your soft chest, bunny… it makes such a nice pillow…”
His fingers trailed up and down your skin. “You’d look so good with tattoos like mine, darling… I’d trace them all day long…”
Lucius suddenly looked like a lightbulb went off in his mind. “One moment. Sorry, darling. I’ll be right back.” he gave you a quick kiss on the lips, rushing out of the bedroom, then right back in holding the pack of graffiti markers he’d purchased. “This is perfect!” he exclaims, rejoining you on the bed.
“Are you gonna draw tattoos on me?” you ask, watching him carefully open the plastic packaging.
“Better.” he giggles. “I’m gonna write everything I love about you all over you. Don’t worry, it’s washable.”
You smiled as he showed you the selection. “What colour would you like, darling? We have… magenta, dark red, black, dark blue, and purple. I'm partial to the blue, personally, but the purple doesn’t look bad either…”
“I like the purple,” you say, picking it out of the package.
“Yeah, purple? Good choice, darling… purple will look so good on you.”
Lucius put the rest of the markers aside, plucking the purple one from your fingers and undoing the cap.
“Let’s see here… where to start…” he says, giggling with anticipation.
Lucius started with your breasts, writing “soft” on one, and “squishy” on the other. His eyes lit up with joy as he fully unzipped your bra, opening it to reveal them fully, he then took the marker and drew hearts around your nipples. “I once knew a succubus with heart tattoos like this on her boobs. Honestly, it’s so cute. We should get you permanent ones.”
“On my nipples? That’d hurt so bad,” you say.
“Oh, true.” Lucius giggles. “Your nipples are so sensitive after all… maybe it’s better to stick with temporary.”
Lucius moved up onto your chest, drawing a heart organ over where your real heart would be located. Over it, he wrote: “The sweetest of hearts.”
“I didn’t know you were an artist,” you say as you look down at it.
“I’ve had plenty of years to practice.” he winks.
Moving down, he wrote “Cutie pie” on your tummy, along with “so huggable” and “gorgeous” with many hearts around them. He traced your love handles, writing “handle” on the left and “bars” on the right. You snorted as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. When he got to your womb area, he tapped the end of the marker to his lips, trying to think of something good to write. He eventually had an idea, writing something surrounded by hearts with an arrow underneath pointing to your pussy. It took a second to read it upside-down, but when you realized, you looked up at him incredulously. “Lucius’s love tunnel???” you question, laughing.
“I was hoping you’d laugh,” he says, swooning. “I love your laugh so much, darling.”
You flushed as he spread your plump thighs and licked his lips. “Oh, you have no idea how tantalizing the thought of unzipping these panties and shoving my face in there is… but no, I must write more.”
You whined. “But I want you to shove your face in there…”
“Patience, darling… I have more messages to decorate your skin.”
On both of your inner thighs, Lucius wrote “Place ears here”. Around the garters, he drew hearts and wrote “Biteable” and “so soft”.
“I can sense you’re aroused, bunny. Are my messages making you feel good? Asmodeus, you look so beautiful with markings… I’m drooling…”
“Lucius…” you whine. “I need you…”
“Just one more, my love, and I’ll give you everything you want and more.” His demonic eyes looked around for a large blank space for this last message, choosing one around your shoulder to write a big “I love you” with a bunch of hearts. You melted at this and you looked up at him with your sweet eyes. “I love you too Lucius… now take me already!”
Lucius capped the marker, throwing it to some corner of the room. “As you wish, master.” he purrs, he kisses down from your neck to your breasts, to your tummy—taking extra care to kiss and nibble there— then finally, FINALLY reaching your panties, unzipping the garment with his teeth and spreading your legs wide. He licked his now purple-smudged lips and dove in. You sobbed into the air, grabbing his horns as he licked, slurped, and sucked on your delicious clit. His tattoos glowed brightly as he siphoned that sweet lust from you, moaning and whining into your pussy. He slipped that long, pierced tongue into your drooling hole, flicking it and curling his prehensile muscle like a tentacle as he looked up into your watery eyes. Fuck, the view of you watching him eat your pussy made him throb, and he ground his bulge into the bed to soothe the ache of his cock. You bucked your hips and wailed. Fuck he felt so goddamn good. You couldn’t take much longer. When he licked a long stripe up your folds and kissed your clit, you came hard, and he rushed to lick up that sweet sweet nectar. He withdrew his long tongue into his mouth, groaning and biting his lip. “Oh, my love… my sweet girl… your love tunnel tastes so good…”
You snorted, playfully smacking his chest. “Don’t call it that! You’re so embarrassing!”
“Aww come on, you love it! You’re laughing!”
The two of you giggled, and he crawled back up to kiss you. The two of you made out for a moment before you pulled off and looked him in his eyes. “I wanna suck it,” you say, grinning.
“Oh? Isn’t this supposed to be me making you feel good?” he teases.
“Pleeeeaaase?” you whine. I want it so bad…”
Lucius giggled as he pecked your lips. “Who am I to deny my master what she wants?”
Lucius moved off of you so you could move, and you both swapped positions so he leaned against the headboard. You started at his lips, kissing them sweetly and passionately. Slowly, you moved down, kissing his neck and chest, tracing his tattoos with your tongue. You went over to one of his pierced nipples, licking and kissing the pert bud. Lucius sighed, intertwining your fingers. “You make me crazy, darling… mmf…”
You smirked as you continued to kiss and lick down, unzipping his jeans and letting his cock spring free. Lucius aided you in taking his pants off, and you took his hard cock in your hand, stroking it up and down slowly. “Fuck, you’re so hard…” you say, admiring the blue tip that wept with precum. “You must be aching…”
“Mmmhn… I am, darling… fuck, the way you stroke me like that is so nice…”
“Yeah? Do you like it when I do this?” you as softly as you run your thumb along his sensitive tip. The demon shuddered. “Mmngh… yes, sweetheart…” he rolled his head back. “I love your soft hands…”
You dipped your head and gave him a nice long lick up the underside of his shaft, paying special attention to his piercings. Sweet lord the whine and full-body shiver that left this man could’ve made you cum on the spot. You swirled your tongue around his tip, getting it nice and wet. Bit by bit you began to work it into your mouth, getting it as far as you could fit without gagging. The amount you couldn’t fit you stroked in your hands as you worked the shaft up and down, up and down. You breathed through your nose, making sure to run your tongue over his most sensitive spots while you took his cock in your mouth.
“Ahhh… oh, fuck, darling… fuck…!” Lucius whines. “S-so good! You’re so good at sucking my cock! Unnh… I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum, darling…!”
At this, you pulled him out of your throat, squeezing at the base. He sobbed at the loss of that delicious stimulation. “Master…!”
“Not yet, Luci.” you giggle. “I want you to cum inside me.”
Lucius licked his lips, grinning wide. “Oh, in that case… I’d be happy to. Come, bunny, let me lie down flat.”
You got up off the bed, letting Lucius lie down on his back. He patted his lap. “Come here, darling, lie on top of me. I’ll take care of you.”
You crawled on top of Lucius, lying on your back across his tall body. He raised your hips with his clawed hands, rubbing his length up and down your drooling pussy. “Did sucking my cock make you this wet? Oh, darling…”
“Mmnnh… Lucius… fuck me…” you begged.
Lucius lined up with your hole, shoving it in easily with how wet you were. You whined as Lucius grunted from how fucking DELICIOUS it was to have your gummy walls squeezing his cock. “Oh fuck, bunny… mmnghh… that’s good… so fucking tight on me… good girl… such a good girl…” he moaned, kissing your neck as he began thrusting up into your pussy and roaming his hands across your body.
“Luciuuuuss!” you sobbed. “God, yes, Lucius…! I love you…!”
“Nnh… I love you too darling, fuck… Asmodeus, your pussy is sucking me in… it feels so so so fucking good, baby… nnh… say something for me, baby… say you’re beautiful…”
“I-I’m beautiful…!” you gasped. Lucius pulled the ring on your collar as he thrust harder. “Good girl… now say you’re perfect the way you are…”
“I’m… p-perfect the way I am… nngh!”
“Fffucckkkk… so good, bunny… I can feel you tightening on me… do you like it when I tell you how much you mean to me? Do you like it when I have you say how beautiful you are? Fuck, yes you do, darling… you can’t hide it from me… you’re so close… let me help you with that…”
You sobbed as Lucius’s deft fingers rubbed your clit in tight circles, mewling as his pierced cock hit you in all the right places as he fucked into you and kissed your cervix. “Come on… cum… cum for me… cum on my fucking cock… say you’re beautiful as you cream on me, bunny…”
“Ahh… annh… fuck!!!” you sobbed. “I’m beautiful! I’m so beautiful, FUCK!” you wailed as the tension snapped.
Lucius whined as your walls fluttered and gushed on his cock, and he gave one last deep thrust before he painted your insides white with his cum.
The two of you panted heavily as you rested on each other, basking in the afterglow. Lucius chuckled as he kissed your shoulder. “So… do you feel better, my love?”
“Yeah…” you sigh. “I feel much better…”
“Good.” he giggles, peppering your neck in kisses. “I’m so happy when you’re happy, darling.”
#incubus x reader#oc x reader#incubus oc#lucius x reader#lucius the incubus#monster fucker#smut#monster lover#chubby reader
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You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 9
RotTMNT x Reader
I am constantly blown away by this chapter art by @yamin-yups
Rated: Teen and Up Audiences
Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You
Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff
Synopsis: You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?
This chapter contains reference to body dysmorphia. Remember that what you feel is completely valid, but we can sometimes see ourselves differently than we really are. Please keep yourselves safe.
Also available on Ao3
First 💛 Previous
“Maybe we take a break from going out into the packed public for once?” Mikey was upside-down, but compensated by holding his phone the opposite way.
It put him right side up in the video chat, but the view was extra blurry. “Is that… okay?”
“I’m the one suggesting it!” Mikey stuck out his tongue, but his reflection seemed to confuse him on which way the appendage should go. “It’s been awhile. I haven’t been able to see you.”
“Yeah… well…” Though for you it would have been predictable, Mikey hadn’t felt the firsthand effects of your setbacks yet.
Panic attacks always caused you to withdraw into yourself.
You weren’t supposed to.
There were times when it was easy to keep going.
Others, such as now, left you homebound for as long as society allowed.
The push to normalcy now included your thoughtful friend.
“Do you know after my tremors went away, I spent months avoiding art because I was afraid of how it would look?” Mikey told you casually.
You weren’t sure what he was talking about.
You tried to recall something about tremors, but came up short.
You wanted to ask more, but there was a more startling aspect than the content itself.
You couldn’t believe there was ever a period where Mikey avoided art as he had been nothing, but a loud proponent of all its merit.
“Why?”
“Because I knew my level and then… I didn’t. I knew I’d have to get back there. It was like riding a skateboard, but needing to take that time? For a second time. Chancing the bad result? It was like my healing was one thing and then by doing that it would show me just how much further I still needed to go. Like that dude with the cat and the box. I didn’t want to open it and find out. I couldn’t do it.”
“Isn’t the saying… something… about riding a bike?”
“We were skateboard tots!” Mikey rolled over and with it so did his camera, inverting the image.
You nodded lightly.
“I switched up crafts. Started new ones that weren’t so finger focused. Pour paints and candle work!” He made grabby hands at the lens as he fixed his phone angle.
“Something low key…” You hummed where you were sitting at the foot of your bed.
“Yeah, something quiet, calm, and… oh! Oh yeah!” There was another flip, but this one was out of excitement.
“D-don’t… bust through a wall…!”
Mikey appeared within a flurry of static. “Did you just make a Kool-Aid Man joke?”
“I make jokes!”
The wattage of his smile turned up to a blinding degree. “Well then I’ve got just the wall to bust through!”
-
“No.” Donnie glowered over his shoulder.
“Please!” Mikey bounced his plea with his head straight up to the ceiling of the garage you were currently in.
An oddity in the subway, but something you imagined had to exist based on logic, your eyes were openly roving around the tidy depot.
“Absolutely not.” Lifting out from under a hood and minding his head, Donnie craned an elbow to the engine block he was working on. “You know you’ve been banned.”
“One time!” Mikey groaned.
“No!” Donnie felt the need to rip off his leather work gloves to throw an unencumbered finger in Mikey’s face. “You were banned once after crashing eleven separate times!!”
“Eleven?!” You squeaked.
Mikey flipped back and forth between the two of you, obviously caught in who to address first. “My driving is fine!” He chose you and then flipped to Donnie. “I’ve changed!”
From the duffel that was slung around your body, you had already been clinging to the strap as it gave you something comforting to hold on to. With the new knowledge that you had almost been driven somewhere rural by someone with that kind of driving record, you now scooped up the entire sack to soothe yourself.
“Forget that.” Donnie flicked his gaze to you. “You’d need a full crash suit to survive him.” He then folded his gloves into a pair and went to check his tool box.
You wilted further.
“We’re already packed!” Mikey rounded a new argument. “This is going to be our big, no-stress, relaxing getaway and you’re making it exactly not that!”
“That’s unfortunate. The bus station isn’t far.” Donnie knelt down to get a wrench.
“And how’s that going to work!? We get dropped at some station and walk to the cabin!? You know it’s in the middle of nowhere!” Mikey stepped up to throw menace over his brother.
Donnie smelled it a mile away and lifted his head, pouring twice the malice. “Oh, you want to play?”
Mikey gulped and nodded his head once. “Let us borrow a car, the tank, a shell cycle, whatever! You’re being unfair!”
“Your planning is poor.” Donnie was slow to get on one knee. “You’re ill equipped.” To the other, he got a foot under him. “You’ve informed no one.” Rising to his towering height above his brother, he loomed. “You walk into my garage, where I am in the midst of my own personal and much needed zen in the form of refurbishing my newest baby and expect me to drop the keys of another into your hands knowing full well that you have destroyed more vehicles on more occasions than I can count on our joined mutant fingers and toes because you just so happened to suddenly decided that you needed to take a weekend trip with your friend of which whom you have a similar slapdash scheme going on with to go to our family’s cabin up north on a whim!?!”
Having watched Donnie not take a single breath, you backed up nearly the same distance that Mikey’s head had shrunk down into his shell.
“Y-yes?” Mikey peeped.
“No.” Donnie said the word firm and quiet, but punctuated it with a tap to Mikey’s plastron which caused the stiff turtle to fall over. “Now leave me to my work.”
Only a shell laying there, you leaned forward to look over Mikey without compromising your spot.
Donnie swung his wrench and moved over to a creeper with the intention to disappear under what looked like a turtle-themed moon buggy.
“You-” Your voice echoed in the garage and you tensed up.
Mikey’s head emerged from his shell to peek at you.
Donnie halted his motion, but didn’t turn.
“You… um… could… come with us?”
You watched Donnie’s lips wobble with disdain.
“N-Not a-as a d-driver! Y-you said…”
In a loud pop, all of Mikey’s limbs emerged. “That’s a great idea!!!”
In a smooth rotation, Donnie both turned and lifted his wrench with a threat.
Mikey crab walked several paces away.
“I’m disappointed.” Donnie sent a glare in your direction. “If your thought is even-” He caught a glimpse of his wrench. “-5/16ths as moronic as his then you are banned from the garage itself. Know that, would you still like to continue speaking?”
Gaze plummeting, your heart tried to escape and you screwed the whole of you shut to keep it inside.
Your entire body shook with the force of your nerves and you had to wait until your BPMs dropped to a manageable limit before you could manage speech. “You… said… m-much needed… so maybe… the trip would… well… be calming… for you too?”
There was a clink of metal hitting the ground.
Banned.
You were banned from the garage.
That was fine.
In theory, it wasn’t.
In theory, you were mortified.
Despite your best efforts, you had never been banned from anything.
Now you were.
A glaring dark spot on your permanent record.
Was Mikey a bad influence?
“You do say driving gets your mind off things…” Mikey said with a sudden supportive starkness.
You kept your gaze firmly rooted to the floor in shame.
“Also hold up!” In a slap of feet against concrete, Mikey righted himself. “You take a few of those things back, Don! I may have pushed the idea through, but it was not poorly planned or ill equipment or whatever you said! Y/N worked crazy hard on putting together everything in the short time frame I laid out!!”
You twitched.
“There’s maps, multiple trails marked, a calculated amount of water, with extra rations, flares… Like do you think this other bag is mine? Heck no! I’m not bringing anything! Both these bags are Y/N’s! They’re both stuffed with… stuff! Like-like!” You felt Mikey come over to you. “How you contacted the ranger’s station to tell them we’d be in the area? I’ve never even thought of that! We’ve never done that have we, Dee?”
Donnie continued his bout of silence that you didn’t dare look upon.
“What else…?” Mikey slapped his forehead. “I mean, come on! I can’t even remember it all!”
“I… got that satellite phone… you were pretty excited… about it.” You mumbled to the ground.
“With the backup batteries, Donald!” Mikey hummed a self-important sound. “The backup batteries!!”
The garage made it very clear that Donnie was walking over to you.
You bounced ever so slightly to garner the courage to meet his eye.
“Who did itinerary?” Donnie asked.
“Me.” Mikey remarked casually.
“I assume food too?” Donnie’s voice was heavy with judgment.
“Nope.” You could see a swoop as Mikey folded smug arms.
“That’s not quite…” You cleared your throat. “Mikey… shared his… favorite dishes that you… all make…when you… go.”
Donnie dipped into your eye line and you startled.
He’d bent at his waist and come down at a perfect angle.
You stared with warped lips.
“How long?” He narrowed his gaze.
“T-the trip?” Your gaze wobbled.
Mikey opened his mouth and Donnie threw out an arm that, by the sound, must have slapped the younger in the face.
“Yes.” Donnie kept his hand in place.
“Tonight… tomorrow… back Sunday?”
“Is that a question?” Donnie’s head tilted.
Mikey grunted, annoyed.
“No…” You got out, quiet.
“You agreed knowing full well you’d be alone with him?”
Slapped with a similar heat from the first time you’d realized that fact, you gave a tight nod.
‘We have separate rooms!’ Mikey mumbled through closed lips with surprising clarity.
“And that’s okay?” Donnie disappeared.
You chased him up to find he’d released Mikey and was waiting on him for an answer.
“It’s a no brainer.” Mikey nearly rolled his eyes.
Donnie’s brow lowered, unsatisfied.
“Yes, it’s okay because it isn’t a thing.” Mikey huffed around his clarification.
“I suppose… I’ve been persuaded.” Donnie looked down thoughtfully and you watched him trace back to where he’d dropped his wrench.
Mikey jumped into the air with a sudden bout of energy and caught your hands to spin you.
“Y-y-yay!” You stutter, stalling on the rotation.
“Cabin, here we come, baby!” Mikey cheered.
“I need my things!” Donnie barked. “And you.”
You jolted. “Y-yes?”
“You will send me triplicate copies of your plans.”
“S-sure…” You spastically patted yourself down for your phone.
“I refuse to engage with either of your antics.” Donnie’s own appeared in his hand. “I am no third wheel. I am coming because I will apparently have to deal with your whining otherwise and because I am not in the mood for the lecture from Nardo and Raphael when they return.”
“Have they texted yet?” Mikey peered over Donnie’s shoulder.
“No. Security detail means one must pay-” Donnie suddenly dropped and ducked through Mikey’s legs in one fluid movement. “-attention. This is why you weren’t requested.”
“And why didn’t they request you, hm?” Mikey pushed his lips into one corner of his mouth.
“Because…!” Donnie trailed off with widened eyes. “My talents lie elsewhere! Enough interruptions. I will drive and then you will leave me be! I am to have my zen! Is that understood?”
“Yeah, yeah, crystal.” Mikey finally did roll his eyes.
Donnie took a few steps away as you found your phone and held it unsure of how to send him the details.
“He’s totally going because he heard ‘yakiniku’ when you mentioned we were making my favorite foods.” Mikey walked over to you with a smirk.
You watched Donnie take an irritated pause before continuing on to get his things.
-
The ride in the tank had passed with booming music and a tour from Mikey that you only visually participated in because you were terrified to move about the cabin. The younger seemed not to notice as he explained parts with stories more than function. Donnie alternatively, had shades on that further marred his calculated expression and he said nothing as the studious driver.
Leaving the city and entering scenic woodlands, you were soon left to admire the views until you eventually deviated off the road toward the cabin. Tracking it with the little local map you had found, you busied yourself in the comfortable way that most people disliked on road trips: silence in a cozy bubble all your making.
There didn’t have to be talk, that’s what road trip mixes were for.
You only made exceptions for car games.
You liked that they had simple rules and there were little stakes to be had.
You only wished cars were safer modes of transport.
There was also something to be said about environmental impact and the culture of automobiles in America, but other than that, you found them nice.
Pulling up to what you imagined was a quiescent place, Mikey could not be restrained a second longer.
Out of the tank in a flurry, you watched through the windshield as his form screamed straight up the cabin’s steps. “He doesn’t do great on car rides, huh?”
“Sitting still for too long? Michael?” Donnie rose from the captain’s chair.
You gave a small smile and gathered up the few things you’d taken inside with you. Your actual bags were stored in an outer compartment and Donnie waited for you as a safety net as you made the harrowing steps down the tank ladder and to the ground. Landing with little fault, you joined him in getting the luggage until Mikey tore back over to grab some of the load. He talked loudly of dust that had accumulated and Donnie griped at him that it was obvious they’d need to clean.
You fondly watched the two bicker and set-up became the next directive. Throwing back plastic sheets that coated furniture, Donnie had a multitude of inventions to clear the space quickly. You had to run to the windows to release the dust tornadoes formed. Making it out mostly unscathed, you then helped Mikey hang bug nets. With the late Spring weather warming the air, soon everything was prepped and Mikey did a little closing dance number, capping off the preparatory part of the trip.
“Swimming hole time!” Mikey cheered and then turned knowingly on Donnie. “Then BBQ and prompt lights out so I can make a lumberjack breakfast first thing!”
“We’re grinding beans… we roasted…” You offered softly. “Uh… Coffee… beans… that is…”
“Oh yeah, I forgot we took that class.” Mikey chuckled. “You almost fell into that sack!”
You squashed a noise of distress at the memory.
Understanding the schedule, Donnie dismissed himself with a turned foot and headed to one of the cabin’s many rooms. You were left to look about the quintessential log cabin where the huge living space and connected kitchen then butted up against a row of doors. They spoke of many rooms that traced the back of the cabin and then up a staircase to a second floor. From what you could see, there were about eight rooms in all. The entire cabin then had a wraparound porch that extended into the wilderness. It was land that both belonged to nature and not, but Mikey had been cagey about revealing property lines.
“Welp!” Mikey folded his hands on his hips. “Your boy needs to get wet before he explodes.”
You gawked at him.
“Seriously!” He was looking out over the cabin with a vacant stare that held a sort of unhinged quality. “First the car, then stuck inside? This is not an inside trip. if I am not unleashed in the next, oh I don’t know… 2 minutes, I’m going to lose it!”
“Uh…!”
“You got those trail maps?” He turned, both looking through you and not at.
“Y-yes!”
“I color coded the one to the watering hole. Orange, obviously.” Mikey approached with a waggling brow ridge. “I saw you in the car, keeping perfect pace. It was awesome.”
“Just to s-stay b-busy!”
“Uh huh! Your smile said otherwise! You’ll meet me there then! Same way!” He patted your shoulder once with a whack before bolting out the door.
You stared after him now knowing why he’d chosen to travel in his swimsuit.
Looking down at your road trip ensemble, you still felt sure of your decision to take the few hour drive comfortably.
There was a noise of a door opening and Donatello emerged, changed into a casual outfit punctuated by purple swim trunks.
You stared at him and felt a little like a caught fawn.
Donnie took you in before his gaze dulled with understanding. “He ditched you.”
“I’m… going to meet him.”
“He always does this.” Donnie responded dismissively. “You should have seen him in time out as a tot.”
“Oh?”
“One minute in time out for him was comparative to thirty for the rest of us.” Walking around a large kitchen bar, Donnie studied the rations.
You took a few steps toward him for the sake of it.
“He’s so impatient.” Donnie murmured, poking several waters aside to find a carton of juice boxes that Mikey had insisted on. He quickly tossed the set into the fridge. “He’s not even an aquatic turtle.”
You sort of wished you had done more research past looking up pictures of their species.
“You’re losing daylight.” He emerged from the fridge. “Or are you not swimming?”
“I-I am…!” You squeezed a fist to your chest. “Are… you coming too?”
Donnie blinked slowly at you. “No, why?”
“Oh…” You shouldn’t have assumed. He’d already told you otherwise. “Sorry… your bottoms… I thought…”
“Board shorts.” He punctuated the words with an odd accent.
You gave an unsure nod.
“I’m glad their sign was translated.” He glanced down at himself.
“Sorry…” You murmured when he made no further movement and quickly left to avoid any awkwardness.
You weren’t sure what you expected.
It’s not like you wanted to exclude Donnie.
You knew that pain too well.
You also didn’t want to make him feel unwelcomed.
You were painfully aware of that too.
He hadn’t wanted to be a third wheel and you had made it a silent mission to keep that from happening.
Something else you’d experienced in the past, you’d been the unwilling chaperone on more than one occasion just to satisfy parent’s minds. The good one, in their minds, you had always been ditched and the feeling wasn’t one you cared for. Shoving past the bygone era, you were seen now and you tried to relish that.
The sun’s attention was a fickle thing, but you were getting more use to losing Mikey’s. Something you thought should scare you, instead you felt your friendship with Mikey was stronger than ever. You no longer feared losing him in the same intangible way and you weren’t sure if you should crop that up to Mikey’s feelings about you. Instead it felt as though you’d reached a better status quo where Mikey’s running off felt more like the sun moving on its predetermined rotation. It would eventually round back to you and in that way you expected Mikey’s claustrophobia even if you hadn’t known about it.
You picked a room at random and rummaged through the duffel that you placed on your bed. There was a woodsy smell that teetered on musty in a way that spoke of it being well lived in even if its occupants only came every so often. You had your own little stand up mirror, nightstand, dresser, and a closet though you doubted you’d use anything past the first. Pulling out a single slick piece of black fabric, you double checked the door was closed before changing.
The perfect swimsuit was one you hadn’t imagined you’d find. Not one for flashy things, you only wanted a muted cover that also happened to cover you. Water did unimaginable things to fabrics and you hated the way it clinged. You wanted something you could disappear in, that brought no unnecessary attention, and could be forgotten on your end. Finding it in a matter of minutes into shopping as opposed to the years it took when you were younger, the item had even been on sale.
Stepping into it and pulling it up, you shimmied into the fabric and turned for that same show stopping image you’d seen in the changing room.
What stared back was an image of allure.
No.
That was wrong.
That’s not what it had looked like.
It had covered you.
It hadn’t accentuated anything.
It was simple.
You squirmed, changing angles in hopes that it would get better, but each only revealed more.
What had changed?
You’d purchased it this week.
Were you hallucinating?
Was there something in the wooden walls?
Had the tank crashed and this was you playing out some morbid purgatory?
You pinched yourself.
A sting bit your forearm and you threw your gaze back at the mirror for the unwilling shapes it concocted.
This wasn’t right.
You wanted to swim.
There was no way you could.
Miserably turning away from your image, you rooted through your bag for a cover up. Finding one in some oversized t-shirt you’d brought for comfort, you held it and hated that this wasn’t the way you imagined it would be employed. You figured it’d be a back-up pajama top and not something to hide your shame away in. Clinging to the fabric, you hastily pulled it over your head with an imaginary clock ticking away because Mikey was waiting.
You were ruining everything.
Stumbling out into the living room, you found yourself alone.
Momentarily thrown, but shaking off how Donnie wasn’t a priority right now and the guilt that came with that, you went for your pile of maps. Finding the trail one with the orange lines, you gathered some shoes and careened down the porch.
Buzzing insects mocked your sloppy descent as you rotated the map to be on your course. Following it more than your way, you took the necessary inlet and folded its winds to a drawn T. Bushes and trees concealed you, but the splashing of what was beyond reached your ears faster than you’d hoped. A journey not long to its destination, you slowed as you came to the final bend. You could hear Mikey blabbing presumably to himself as he hooted before resounding sloushes followed. In your mind he jumped off some kind of ledge, you took a deep breath before making the final steps leading to the watering hole.
Somewhere quaint if you had the perspective for such a thing, a tree towered comfortably overtop a sizable pool. One mucked up from algae as the little stream feeding into it didn’t stir the water near enough, you watched roiling green as Mikey emerged with a flip of his wet hair.
“Y/N!” Mikey shouted happiness. “You made it! Come on in! The water’s fine!!” He swam backwards as if giving you room.
The guilt was staggering.
No, Mikey.
I won’t be swimming today.
My body looks like shit and I can’t stand it.
I’ll watch you though.
Have all the fun.
You deserve it.
Signing off your name, you slunk forward only to clip a sight of mixed purples.
Donnie craned his neck back to view you from beneath a large sun hat he’d put on. Sitting on a few rocks that made up the closest edge to you, his lids lowered in a way that said he was reading you like a book.
Hating how he did that, you squeezed the bulky hem of your shirt and walked up. “Uh… M-Mikey…?”
“A-yup!” He stopped splashing to hear you better.
“The… um… car ride… sort of took… more out of me than… I thought? Would it be alright if-!”
“You don’t have to swim.”
You blinked wide and over to him.
“If you don’t want to, don’t!” Mikey continued on. “Let’s compare: are you upset I’m swimming when you don’t want to?”
“O-of c-course not!”
“Then why should I care in the reverse?” He fell back and floated, eyes closed, on his shell.
That was right in a way.
Sweet in another.
You wished you’d put together the same reaction.
Inching closer, it felt like pouring water into an overtaxed bucket.
Another guilty drop in your damnation.
You’d seen your friend in a bad light.
Shirking all the more, you toed off your shoes and let your feet lay flat on one of the worn rocks. It put you near Donnie who’d become the moon on a sunny day’s backdrop. He shined upon the same stone and illuminated its age. The rocks were older and wiser than you’d ever be. They never worried about getting wet. They only knew how to exist, something you wished came as easily to you. Sitting down because you needed more of you to drink from the stone’s wisdom, you kept a lowered head to the water’s edge. It sloshed in a beckoning way and you imagined it too would feel good in a different way.
You really had wanted to swim.
Imaging your tears would do little to fill up the pool while also overflowing it, you heard a tepid sigh beside you.
Eyes wide and shooting up across the pond, you then turned to where you’d sat down next to Donnie.
Someone who you mistakenly forgot about during your pity party.
How was that for a third wheel?
“It’s always something with you.” He spoke softly.
“Sure is.” You gave an awkward laugh.
“That’s…” He made a little concerned noise. “… I didn’t mean it in a cruel way.”
“You didn’t have to. It is.” You threw your legs off the rock and threatened to drown your toes in the water. “It’s a cruel fate. I’m…” You remembered yourself. “Sorry. Nothing. What are you doing here?”
“My species is aquatic.”
You snuck a glance. “You’re pretty dry then.”
“You are too.”
You frowned deeply and watched Mikey pick up a sun drunk grin as he spread his limbs out to float on. “I don’t know why I feel like this. Everything was fine before…”
“With what?”
“This…” You threw a hand over yourself. “Stupid ugly swimsuit.”
You could feel Donnie’s gaze linger.
“Just trust me.” You folded your legs against yourself.
“I’m not sure I do.”
You squinted at the glistening water before looking at him.
“I barely know you.” He responded simply, waiting there.
“Oh.”
“Disappointed?”
“In what?” Your ugly side was leaking far beyond the reach of what your shirt could cover. “I didn’t think you trusted me. You may have been wrong about me being bad, but that wouldn’t make you less suspicious. So it’s not that. What’s left? The swimsuit sucks. It’s not like you wanna drool over it. I don’t want anyone too. I wanted to swim.”
Hearing your wish aloud, you pressed hard on your chest with your legs.
You could flatten out your entire form if only you were malleable.
“The water is opaque. I can alert Mikey and we’ll turn away so you can get in.”
You felt too far gone for solutions.
You weren’t worth the trouble.
Burying your chin into your knees, you stewed.
“You know how many times the others have made fun of my board shorts?”
You told yourself you didn’t care.
If that was the case then Donnie didn’t either. “Hundreds, though it might be my attitude when wearing them. I like the excuse. To have my day off and not worry about pleasantries. To not have to tailor myself to others. I can tell them to shove it. It’s my day off and how I look isn’t anyone’s damn business.”
Sounded like an odd hill to die on.
“Everyone should have those days.” Donnie craned his arms behind him and leaned back to soak up the rays he was in.
The tree overhead was clipping your light.
Donnie was free.
Mikey was free.
Head lifting a little, you pondered your friend.
He’d needed to get out and he did.
Now he was a vision, glowing amongst the pool.
In contrast there was you, wadded up and tossed away without even giving yourself the chance.
Another terrible reminder that this was the point.
This was what you were trying to avoid.
This was what you were trying to learn from.
Mikey didn’t even have to do anything to be himself.
He just was.
Instead of his usual bustle of light, he shined by matter of existence.
That was why you chased him.
You wanted that.
Staring at him until sun spots mucked up your vision, you turned the mass to Donnie.
Beside you in the same pose, he was more calculated.
He had to put on his wares.
His was an unseen struggle you hadn’t considered.
No one gleamed quite like Mikey.
That didn’t mean they didn’t shine in their own right.
Donnie’s darkened scales only threw prisms in a different way.
The cool moon’s glow.
Letting your legs fall, this time your feet drew to the allure of the water.
Just out of reach, you stared hard, making sure the pair would keep their eyes closed.
The both of them were still as if asleep, but you waited past whatever insect was chirping before you slowly tugged your hem out from under you. Emerging without more than the sound of rustling fabric, you rolled your shirt up around your waist. The next move was one harder to conceal, you threw a desperate glance at your friend.
Water rocked the resting Mikey like a babe and you wanted to feel that too.
You wanted to be nestled by the sun’s glow.
You wanted to feel weightless and have those burdens removed.
You yanked the shirt over your head and dropped it to your side.
Donnie stirred at the sound, but didn’t open his eyes.
“It’s… It’s okay… I’m not… okay… but I think I… I don’t want to care…”
He cracked a lid and stared skyward.
“It looked so different in the store.”
“How so?” He asked a whispy cloud.
“It looked… I don’t know… covering? Like it didn’t… show any bits. Like it… hid them away.”
He blinked slow and comfortable. “I’m a designer, you know.”
“What?”
“Genius Built Apparel. Where fashion meets function.”
You stared on.
Of course he was.
He also built a tank and a legion of dusting robots.
If this were any other family you’d think he was pulling your leg.
You’d seen more than enough to believe.
Most of your stare came from the cocky name.
Though even that made sense.
Donnie was a carefully constructed sphere.
Who were you to take away his gloating?
He tilted his head just enough to glimpse your face. “I’m serious. I’ve dissuaded Mikey from many a faux pas.”
You shook your head.
“May I?”
“What?” You switched to eyeing him.
“I can take a clinical eye. Examine stitching. Find your err.”
You bounced one of your legs.
You did want to know where it had all gone wrong.
You could theoretically fix it then.
Wash this all away in the water you so desperately wanted to get in.
“You won’t make it weird?”
“I don’t drool on the metaphorical clock; you were right about that, but I understand your concern. I have accosted you before.”
“Different kind of weird. That was mean weird. You were a jerk weird.”
Donnie chuffed and it rolled down his plastron.
You watched it fall into his lap before forcing your gaze back to his face in a rush. “Promise… Promise I can pull your hat down if you… do anything.”
“I won’t so a simple enough agreement. Sure.”
“Go… ahead…” You folded your arms to your sides, obviously nervous as you listened to his clothes move.
In a twist, he was examining you and he gave a faint hum.
Not wanting to see exactly how he saw you and growing miserable, you stared into the water.
You could throw yourself in and be done with it.
“Here.” He spoke.
You moved to the sound on instinct and found him pointing to your hip.
His eye was indeed one you imagined a tired scientist gave the samples he was cursed to study.
You immediately relaxed. “What?”
“This ruching here is meant to cover cellulite when the fabric gets wet. When dry it acts a similar concealment, but the way the strips are sewn are for the first purpose.”
“Oh…” You tilted your head to look.
“Thing is, it’s also leading lines.” He didn’t get any closer, but he mimed tracing the seams of the fabric that curled around your hip and beneath where you were sitting. “It’s meant to direct the gaze to certain assets.”
You blew out an annoyed breath.
“Dressing room mirrors, where I imagine you first saw this, aren’t slapped on walls without thought. They're engineered with angles and lightning to make clothes look as flattering as possible.” He brought his eye to yours. “Where did you see yourself today?”
“There’s a… mirror in my room.”
Donnie’s lip twitched with distaste. “That floor length one?”
You nodded.
“Dad uses that one to feel tall.” He sneered openly. “It tilts up from below, the worst possible perspective.”
You blinked a few rapid times.
“It took the ruching and blew it up.”
“So it’s not… that bad?”
“It’s anything, it's tasteful!” He spoke with an irritation that said that should have been obvious. “It fits your body well. Does it have a certain allure? Yes, I’ve already spoken of assets, but it is not a piece that invites unnecessary solicitation.”
“Assets, assets. What are you, an ass man?” You retorted automatically.
“There is nothing quite like sinking your teeth into that soft, inviting flesh.” He took your response and held it between his teeth.
In a blink, you saw an imaginary Donatello around your hips pointing to the fabric and on contact with the thought your face exploded.
“I say generally speaking, of course.” He clicked his tongue as if scolding you and turned away toward the water.
Hot.
You were too hot.
Run.
Throwing yourself forward, you submerged as indelicately as possible into the water.
Sinking like a stone into the silence, your burning flesh was quickly soothed by a cold lap.
A sweet embrace, you kicked to the surface and emerged with a pathetic gasp.
Never graceful, you shook yourself free of clingy drops and spun back around to view the rocks.
Donnie was staring up at the sky again and you sort of hated him for it.
Swim.
You’d swim with Mikey.
Spinning around, the other turtle was not only longer floating, but you couldn’t locate him at all. Quickly worrying that you had toppled him in your dive, you swam forward. “Mikey?”
Quieting to listen, you didn’t hear anything past the faint roiling of the water against its container.
Thinking he must have dove, you looked down to find Donnie’s earlier comment to be a correct one. With the water murky to a fault and a new fear cropped up. You had no idea what was in the water and you immediately darted for the closest shore. Something several long feet from Donnie, it was a sort of marshy landing that rocks from below steeping up to meet. They were covered in a slime that clung to your feet and had you pausing until you heard an off-toned lap behind you.
You whirled around with wide eyes and found a sea monster waiting for you.
Something matted with algae, it groaned pathetically and you sucked in enough air until the balloon was full enough to scream.
“What!? Who?! Where?!” The creature splashed with Mikey’s voice.
He’d been captured by another mutant.
You turned to get out of the water with some intention of getting to the tank.
It had to have missiles or something.
Anything to help.
You’d take a bowling ball launcher at this point.
Catching grip with one foot, you hoisted up the other. The many rocks acted like a disjointed ladder and your entire torso emerged from the water before one of your feet slid. The moment it happened felt like you were falling out of time. In slow motion, you knew your face was one of surprise. You painted an open expression where the imminent terror that you were falling couldn’t catch up as neurons to save yourself from the action.
Your mind knew, but your face didn’t know that you were going to crack your head open on the rocks you just slipped on.
“Y/N!”
“Y/N!”
Two voices.
Too far.
Something skewered your side as the first injury of many.
Hoping only to black out on that first step, you willed your possessions to your friends.
You didn’t bother hoping they would remember you.
You only hoped that they could make some use out of your worldly imprint.
No matter how small it was.
Water rushed to greet you and shoved you away.
That wasn’t right.
That was the wrong direction.
Water swayed like waves.
The equal and opposite reaction wouldn’t come until you fell in.
Why had it preemptively come for you?
Your arms dangled heavily from gravity and you forced your eyes from wherever they had gone.
The monster was right in front of you.
Its face was one of Michelangelo.
Green sludge caught in his blackened locks and his worried expression peered out from between a small part.
He had you by the waist and was holding you up in the air. “Are you okay!?”
You were a loose toy strung up.
Flopping down, lifeless, you were a doll that couldn’t close its eyes until it was laid down.
A second deafening splash came as you hung there.
Mikey’s lips were moving awfully fast.
“Did they hit their head?!” Donnie’s voice broke through.
“No! Above water the whole time! Donnie! They aren’t saying anything, I don’t-”
“Shock?” Donnie wondered, but he never came into frame.
Where was he?
Mikey jostled you as one might bounce a colicky baby.
It was pulling a string on your back and you hacked on contact.
You wheezed, forcing air in where terror had torn it from you.
You fought.
Not Mikey exactly, but the situation.
It strung your arms back.
It shoved your torso forward.
It threw your head skyward.
You gasped, alive.
You saw blue.
It was the sky.
You hadn’t died.
Mikey had saved you.
Finally.
You came down from your arching to translate your joy.
Mikey’s face slid into your vision and he was the picture of a boiled red tomato dotted with summertime spots.
He was looking at you.
He had ogled you.
He was embarrassed.
Your blood pressure plummeted twice as fast as it had when you thought you were about to die.
This was worse.
This time you heard yourself scream as you lashed out.
Water flew up as if to welcome you, to bring you where you were meant to be.
Drowned.
Returned you to that place where you weren’t an object to be viewed.
You were a person floating free.
Liquid carried life.
It supported it.
It didn’t have it.
Vertigo struck you as you moved within a blink.
In a disorientated spiral, your lids fell heavy as your inner ear tried to correct the imbalance.
There were no longer hands around your waist.
Something clicked like an engine uselessly turning over.
Weary, you realized you were standing in a safe spot in the water.
You drew up the dreary blinds of your curtain and found a muscled arm thrown out protectively in front of you.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!!” Mikey cried, loud and desperate.
“What the hell was that then!?” Donnie’s voice rang close.
That firm limb tucked you further behind someone.
You were being shielded.
A squabble happened in front of you, but you only looked down at the jade appendage acting as your guard rail.
You touched the arm and it felt familiar.
“Don-nie?” Your voice came out synthetic.
His was the body you were behind and his face appeared in a whip of his head. “Are you alright? Can you swim? I’ll move.”
“I’m not…?” You weren’t swimming.
You weren’t doing anything.
You were standing in the water.
“What…?”
You looked past Donnie and glimpsed Mikey with a faint blush still stuck to his cheeks.
“Y-you…!” It felt accusatory on your lips.
“I’m sorry!!!” Mikey screeched.
“Turn around, dummy!” Donnie growled hot and was in motion.
You were soon ushered into a spin with an indelicate hand to your back and all but rushed over to the rock you had jumped off of.
You heard a splash of what you assumed was Mikey growing distant behind you.
You hoped that would cool him off.
“You ready?” Donnie’s voice appeared like it was newly there.
“For what?” You were already used.
What was left?
Was it time to take out the recycling?
“I’m going to lift you up. Your shirt is right there.” Donnie instructed.
“My shirt…” You were forlorn.
It was your back-up comfort item.
“Ready?” Donnie asked again.
The water rocked you and you barely bumped his firm plastron.
You nodded dumbly.
Your hips were taken in what you read as a clinical way.
You were barely bounced once, then twice, in a way that ballet dancers got momentum to lift their partners.
Sure enough, you were lifted cleanly out of the water.
Only this time you felt well handled.
You weren’t swung around like a toddler holding up their favorite doll.
A child who cared for his toys put you on a shelf.
When your knees touched down, you drank in the life of the rock and scrambled for your shirt.
All the things that had just occurred crashed into you.
Shoving your head through the hole, you yanked the shirt down your body as you were already in motion. Forest floor digging into your bare feet, you didn’t need the map to retrace your steps. You followed the single, winding, prickly path and emerged out by the cabin only to fly inside it. A sanctuary amongst the unrelenting woods, you left a rotting drip trail as you entered your room. Your door clattered from where you had thrown it open and you ripped your duffel bag to shreds to get to its confines.
Pulling on layer after layer, you could see Mikey’s blush with each piece of clothing.
He’d looked at you.
You shoved your feet into a third pair of socks.
His gaze was amorous.
Into a thermal that was very much against the season, you ran out of clothes and stormed the dresser.
Sexual.
There were oversized men’s clothes that struck you as maybe being Raph’s and you thanked their huge size.
You put shirt after shirt on.
Mikey had said, point blank, that he wanted to see how far his feelings went.
Why were you so stupid?
You screamed.
Raw and uncut.
Tearing at your larynx, you ripped a few too many layers off as they impeded your melt down.
You needed space to breathe.
You needed to be swallowed whole.
Stumbling out to that accursed mirror, the shape you found there was a frumpy one.
Smiling a teary look at it, you watched it warp your face into one of dismay and you cried.
Where had you last felt okay?
It wasn’t here.
Moving around the room you searched for it.
That intangible something that would help.
Knocking everything over, you finally got a hold of a much too large pillow and hugged it to your body.
It was large and not at all as firm as you wanted.
You needed a hard wall.
You needed that unrelenting nature.
You weren’t something to be judged with heat.
You needed a cold light the sun couldn’t supply.
The wall knocked.
You spun around with your pillow defense to find the back of a head waiting there.
“I come as an emissary.” Donnie spoke slow and methodical.
“You can-!” It wasn’t Mikey.
Your pillow fell slack into one hand.
It wasn’t Mikey.
You let it drop with a thump to the floor.
It wasn’t Mikey.
“…come in.”
You took a wobbly step to spread out your clothed legs in hopes of keeping yourself upright.
Donnie didn’t move.
“You can… come in…” You repeated, not sure if you had gotten the first phrase out.
“No.”
“No…?” You took another step and saw how Donnie was clearly beyond the boundary of your open door.
With his back to you.
Not impeding on you in any way.
“This is your space.” He spoke it like a finality.
You stared at the knot of his mask tails and tried to place what you felt.
“Being out here with us…” Donnie let the sentence hang before he lowered his gaze to the floor. “I want to… respect that much.”
“Why’d you say it like that?”
“I prefer the term ‘sanctum,’ but I couldn’t fit it in.”
“A sacred place…?”
The back of his head nodded. “My lab is supposed to be one.”
Sanctums weren’t places to be invaded.
If they were then they were violated.
He understood.
Is that what you felt?
Camaraderie?
Even his mania in the beginning had been one you made sense of.
Was that why you hadn’t complained?
No, you were rewriting history from your current perspective.
It was also the only one you knew.
It was one where you envied one man.
It was where you once feared another.
Now their roles were reversed.
You never had to explain your misery to Donnie.
You didn’t have to make him understand.
He was the moon.
You rushed towards him.
Donnie heard the footsteps and made it about half a turn before you reached him. “As… I was saying, I talked to Michael and come in his stead to-”
You collided with that unrelenting wall of plastron. Finding an odd hinge between the front of his shell and the back, you did your best to tuck into that space and weaseled under his arm. You felt it rise above you, out of your way and a rotation brought you more towards his front. There you felt him stop to take your over-clothed form in.
“I’m sorry!” You choked on tears, rooting the sound as deep against Donnie’s wet clothes as possible.
He let your misery hang for exactly one second.
Then he surrounded you in a soft moon glow.
He pulled you toward his chest and you burrowed closer to him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I completely overreacted. It was just too much… Too much attention… the way he looked. He said… I thought he wouldn’t… I didn’t want…!”
A hand pet through the layers of your back.
Even and careful.
No further connotation other than to soothe.
Squirming to get your arms out from where you were crushing them, you wiggled them free to embrace him.
You squeezed a sigh right out of him.
“I know.” He spoke into your damp head. “I know…”
You nodded and basked in the tide. Pulled by the moon’s orbit, the waves rolled in and out with a sway. A gentle rocking, you were cast a comfortable drift by it. This was the one you had longed for from the swimming hole. Here, you floated amongst sturdy shores. Held safe, the guiding white light poured around you. One that pushed back against the darkness, it shone on you. Lucky to be in its reach, it wasn’t the type you soaked up. It instead washed over you in a cleanse. Feeling lighter and a little stifled, you extracted yourself from moisture to moisture.
Everything around you from your leaking face to the clingy pond water was soaked and you frowned down Donnie’s body. Standing in a little pool mostly created by him, you wanted to stick your tongue out at it, but you feared the bacteria clearly clinging to your skin.
“The cabin is yours tonight.”
Before you could register the words, you felt him strengthen his resolve with a puff of his chest.
“I don’t want to hear complaints otherwise.”
You wanted to pout.
“I checked the systems when we were doing our preliminary cleaning. The water will be hot. Shower, bathe, do whatever you’d like. We’ll be staying outside.”
You gave a faint nod to the wet floor.
“We’ll grill and I’ll make you a plate. Preference?”
You shook your head. “I don’t… feel like eating…”
“Bland it is.”
Now you were pouting.
“Y/N.”
“Yeah?” Your head felt heavy.
“I still have a message from Mikey to deliver.”
“I really don’t want to hear it.” Irritation brought you to look at him.
Donnie took you in with a sort of smile. “You’ll want to.”
You dropped your features in a way that said you didn’t believe him.
“He said he’s not ready to talk as he’s having his own crisis, but he’ll let you know when he’s ready to apologize.” Donnie tilted his head, almost amused.
You blinked straight out of your bitterness to stare openly.
Donnie gave a single knowing nod.
“Enjoy your shower.” With one last sweep over you as if to check you were all still there, Donnie turned and headed for the door.
Watching him go, you saw the faint amber hue of sunset.
“It’ll all work out.” Donnie tossed just as he grabbed the knob to exit.
You turned and stormed straight to the bathroom. Drowning in clothes and scum, you locked the door tight and turned the shower knobs to their highest setting. Leaving the water to warm, you started removing your outermost shirt. As soon as it hit the ground you felt possessed. You tore off your clothes with each subsequent layer removed at a faster and faster pace. You needed to be freed. You needed that ridiculous protection off of you as soon as possible. All of it soiled, you stripped down bare and left your feet for last.
The moment they were naked and pressed to tile, you leapt into the old style tub. Instantly boiled by the too hot water, you let it scorch you with clenched teeth at first until the burn seared and you adjusted the dial for something reasonable. Still a lobster in a pot, you scrubbed your skin until you thought it might flake and then doused it in suds until you couldn’t see its color. A sea of white foam, the second scrounge came through, washing the detritus away.
Pickled in the process, you emerged and greedily took up every towel in the room. It meant toeing around the disgusting mound of clothes you’d left, but Donnie had said the cabin was yours. Until tomorrow when you’d clean the place up, you instead mourned how you hadn’t even brought your toothbrush in with you. Scowling at a fog coated mirror, you cracked the door and watched the steam leak out.
Chasing it with your ear, you didn’t hear anything, but there was a distinct lemon scent.
You followed the smell into the hall where you quickly placed it was cleaner. The floor had a sheen to it that spoke of a recent mopping. The clean line ending abruptly at your door said exactly who the culprit was. Donatello had snuck back in to clean and you were thankful for it. He’d left your sanctuary untouched and instead set a stool just outside the door.
On it was a stack of comfortable looking clothes and a note.
‘Keep your room or upgrade. I recommend the one upstairs, second bedroom on the right.’
You folded the note along its lines and placed it back on the offered clothes. You then gathered the lot and took it with you along with a brave face as you entered your room. You barely looked up as you salvaged what you could from your duffel. Carrying the mostly limp sack, you then moved to follow your recommendation. It led you through the darkened cabin and up the winding wooden stairs where the door in question was closed. Knocking on it out of politeness, you found it empty and slipped inside. It was decorated similarly, but clearly different. Comfortable in its own sense, you went about your nightly routine as best you could and thanked the space for not having a mirror. Growing more weary by the second, you thought vaguely of meat as you instead pulled back the covers.
Sinking in and imagining charcoal lighting the men’s faces, you settled down into the welcoming embrace of bed.
You eventually got up and padded across a tiled floor.
Pulling out a single slick piece of black fabric, you double checked the door was closed before changing.
The perfect swimsuit was one you hadn’t imagined you’d find.
What luck, you thought, as you slipped it on.
Stepping into it, you shimmied into the fabric and turned for that show stopping image in the changing room.
It was perfect.
It covered you in all the right ways.
Finally, the piece you’d been looking for.
Smiling and striking pose after pose, you saw a hand wave above the curtain.
“Come in!” You called to it.
Sanctum’s were only to be entered with permission.
“Silly.” You looked over your pleasing image once more. “Is it still a violation if I request it?”
“I guess not.” Instead of drawing the curtain back, Donnie slipped through it.
Tucking himself a strong wall behind you, he looked into the mirror at you.
What looked back held no heat, only appreciation.
“Do you like it?” He checked with you without passing judgment himself.
“I do…” You smiled.
He gave one of his own, though subdued, and flicked his gaze down. “Look here.”
You lowered your gaze to find him kneeling behind you. With his head popped out around your hips, he was looking up at you in a way you liked quite a bit.
You felt powerful.
You were a light bright enough for him to want to project.
“This ruching here has leading lines.” He didn’t touch you, but his hands ghosted over you along the fabric’s pattern.
Your lips parted and your chest filled with heat.
A celestial body was meant to look on.
You were safe.
“May I?” He asked you once again.
You were glad and responded with a breathless, “Please.”
His mouth opened a dark orbital maw, a new moon, which then glinted into a teeth-filled waxing crescent headed in its trek to sink into your soft flesh.
You jolted the moment the teeth supposedly hit their mark.
You stared into the dark abyss and saw drifting images of sharpened grins.
You were dizzy.
A sheen of sweat to you, you tossed back a cover.
The black hovel above you took shape as logs in the cabin ceiling.
They lined up like thick thighs appearing from where board shorts had hiked up.
Begging for a taste.
Awareness struck with a sharp inhale.
Fully awake and doused with dread from your dream, you voiced your despair with a whisper.
“Oh no…”
💛 NEXT 💛
I swear I handed this to my betas over a year ago... @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83
#sunshinemoonshinefic#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt x reader#donatello hamato#rise donnie#rottmnt donatello#rottmnt Donnie#rottmnt Michelangelo#rise Michelangelo#Michelangelo hamato#rottmnt mikey#rise mikey#me#fanfiction#my fanfiction#tw body dysmorphia
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Oh hello... I wanted to make a request, I wanted to know how the Papas would react to seeing that y/n is a little chubby. Because I was looking in the mirror and I was so sad about what I saw, and now I'm lying in bed scrolling through Tumblr thinking about making this request... You don't have to do it if you don't want to, It's just that I love the way you write that I kept thinking about it.
I very much want to, thank you very much :D there is nothing, and I repeat, nothing wrong with being a little chubby, or being a lot more chubby! Whatever size you are, you are beautiful, remember that <3
This also gives me a reason to finally write something for Primo and Secondo so thank you hehe
soooooo I present to you, headcanons about the papas with a chubby reader! (gender neutral ofc hehe)
(I wrote this kind of quickly so if there are horrible grammatical errors, I will try and fix them as I find them lol)
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Headcanons: Papas with a chubby reader
Primo:
He's very old, and a bit old-fashioned, so he just instantly thought you were an angel when he saw you. Back in his days, the curvier you were, the more attractive you were.
When he got to know you as a person, he grew to love you very quickly.
All of your curves and imperfections were a work of art for him.
Primo is also such a gentle person, and would notice the instant you were feeling down/insecure. He doesn't pressure you to talk about it though, but he still makes sure you know that he's there for you.
If you wanna talk tho? He would listen really well, and after you had poured your insecurities out on the table, he would assure you that your curves just made you more, well, you. And you were his amore, the most beautiful thing in the world.
Secondo:
He's a serious guy who does not like to talk about emotions and stuff. (I don't think he even knows how but lmao anyway)
Secondo's usually serious and no-bullshit charade was quickly torn away by you and your delightful presence. (He was freaking out like crazy when he first met you, Terzo would not let him forget how he stumbled over his words when he was first introduced to you)
Also, fuck, he couldn't keep his eyes from you. Every time you are in a same room with him, his gaze almost involuntarily shifts back to you.
He loves you. So much. So when you came to him, telling how you didn't think you looked good, he was a little confused. How could you see yourself in such a light, when you had made such an impact on him?
He reassures you that yes, he wants to be with you and nobody else.
He doesn't really know say anything else. But he doesn't need to, his actions prove the endless love he harbours for you.
Terzo:
Ah, Terzo, our hopeless romantic.
Terzo has seen many different types of bodies up close and personal during his life, but not one of them could match your beauty.
Needless to say, when he first met you he fell. Hard. Like, head over heels. Out the door went his playboy days, he only had eyes for you.
He literally worships the ground you walk on.
You had trouble believing him, when he confessed his undying love for you. (Don't blame him he just likes to be theatrical but he really did mean it)
You confessed to Terzo about your insecurities, and he proved himself to be a great listener. After talking, he reassured you that yes, he meant what he said, yes, he wants to be with you.
He would then bring you in front of a mirror, and gently kiss and caress all the parts of your body you are insecure about.
Copia:
He would understand your struggles very well. Having a history with insecurities himself, Copia isn't a stranger to body dysmorphia.
Copia loves you. So much. You helped him get through a lot of his insecurities, so, now was his turn.
He let you vent, while making you a cup of tea, and wrapped you in a tight hug afterwards. You cried in his arms and he just held you and comforted you.
Copia is very direct about his feelings toward you. He lists all the things he loves about you, and tells you how you size just makes you all the more perfect. (the man loves thick thighs)
He would do his best to make you see yourself in the same light he sees you. Copia gently traces over your stretchmarks with his finger, then kisses them and whispers to you how beautiful you are.
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Thanks for the request annnd enjoy :D
Remember, you are beautiful no matter your size <3
#the band ghost#ghost band#ghost the band#ghost bc#papa emeritus x reader#ghost band fanfiction#copia x reader#terzo x reader#secondo x reader#papa emeritus secondo#papa secondo#cardinal copia#copia#secondo#primo ghost#papa emeritus ii x reader#primo x reader#ghost fanfiction#band ghost#the band ghost fanfic#the band ghost fanfiction#the band ghost fic#the ghost band#ghostbc
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Im really not trying to be rude but can fanartists please stop drawing Hermione super skinny and with huge lips and boobs? 🙄 hermione is canonically not pretty and im sure I dont dpeak for just myself when i say that depictions of hermione like this are really triggering for people with body dysmorphia in what is supposed to be a positive space
whoa. Check yourself anon. First of all, artists are allowed to draw fictional characters however they want. They are not responsible for your feelings when you come across their artwork; just scroll on past if it bothers you, or better yet, block the artists who make artwork you don’t like so you see less of it (and block tags and whatever else you need to). God, can you imagine for a moment if someone said this but was talking about different features that are often used to depict Hermione? Do you even realize what you’re asking?
second of all, Hermione is described as pretty canonically around 4th year. Sorry. And who knows if she had big boobs or lips or not; those features were not described in detail in the books. No one is right or wrong here. Not that it matters. Again, artists can draw whatever they want.
If you have body dysmorphia that is so strong that merely seeing a relatively common depiction of Hermione that doesn’t reflect the way you see her triggers you, then I’m very sorry, but you have some work to do on yourself. Artists making the work they want does NOT make this an unsafe space. Hermione Granger fanart being drawn with ANY specific characteristics is NOT unsafe. It’s just different. Shit, its art, and it would be boring if they were all the same!
and you aren’t merely being rude by requesting artists to care to you, personally, an anon on my tumblr. You’re being wildly unreasonable. Make your own fanart the way you see fit if this bothers you so much (assuming you don’t already), and don’t harass others.
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I got an ask request a little while ago that I got halfway through typing and like a total moron deleted it by accident.
Last time I ever type the first draft on Tumblr instead of an outside app, which I should have known better anyway but here tf we are
It was for headcanons for OPLA Sanji with a plus-size/heavy set reader, which hits home for me because I've always had severe body image and dysmorphia issues. I usually write characters that look absolutely nothing like me as a form of escapism. Don't want to go into detail or get too personal because it's still very much an issue for me, but I still enjoyed writing this up. Sanji is so sweet and I feel like he would just be the most supportive ever.
Okay lemme get this posted before I melt into a stinking puddle he's just so adorable I can't 🥹❤️
OPLA!Sanji X Plus-Size AFAB!Reader
Headcanons
Possible Trigger Warnings: Body Image, Self-Esteem Issues
NSFW
Look, it's Sanji. You could paint yourself purple and decide you now identify as a Martian, he would still adore you and incessantly shower you in compliments and affection.
He cannot stomach the thought of you being self-conscious about anything—to him, you're the most beautiful being to have ever walked the planet, inside and out, and he plans on reminding you every moment he has a chance to.
Oh, let anyone make a negative comment about your weight or your appearance in general—if he finds out, the offending party is going to end up with a swift kick to the head and potentially left in a coma.
No one, absolutely no one insults his beloved. Not without consequence.
He's going to support you in whatever you want to do...though he honestly might be a little indisposed if you decide to go on a diet. Partly because it will limit what he can cook for you, but largely because he would much rather you feel as comfortable and confident with yourself as you deserve to.
And he's going to make damned sure you know that you don't have to change for anyone else; it's your decision to make and yours alone, and if anyone else dares to put their two cents in...well, swift kick to the head, coma, etc etc.
You're always happy to test any new recipe that he creates so he absolutely loves cooking for you.
He loves cooking with you even more...though he's going to be thoroughly distracted, because he can't keep his eyes off you.
Or his hands. He adores every last inch of you, but particularly your your ass, your hips, your thighs.
He'll grab you by your hips and tug you flush against him, pull you into a slow, playful kiss.
Slip his hands down to squeeze your ass, either lift you onto the nearest surface or pull you down onto his lap to feel your thighs wrapped around him.
He could absolutely suffocate between your thighs and die the happiest man alive, pull you right down onto his face and not relent until you're both gasping for air.
The sight of you riding him makes him weak—especially on his knees with your legs wrapped around him, where he can bury his face in your chest and trail his lips and his hands over every part of you he can reach.
And he could easily spend all day in bed just cuddling with you, brushing kisses across your body, murmuring against your skin how absolutely perfect you are and just worshiping every inch of you.
He will devote every moment of his time to making sure you feel like the work of art he sees you as.
#opla#opla sanji#one piece sanji#sanji#sanji x reader#one piece headcanon#opla headcanon#headcanon#one piece
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HEAD CANNON HILLS I PERSONALLY CHOOSE TO DIE ON:
Fight me (lol)
Bruce Wayne
Gray Hairs are mostly in and around his temples and beard- also he won’t dye it
Asexual but not sex repulsed (it just feels right)
Definitely experienced with makeup, sure to cover bruises and stuff but also he definitely had a phase where he wore eyeliner cause why not
Autistic
Dick Grayson
Crooked nose
Speaks some Roma still but has forgotten most of it, which makes him upset
People deffo thought he was gay all through school, and they weren’t wrong…or right (he’s some form of queer)
Gymnastics teacher as a side job
ADHD
Oldest Daughter SyndromeTM
Jason Todd
I think that Jason runs a book club with a bunch of middle aged women, and they talk about classic lit
Theater Kid (gay)
Good with kids, reluctantly
Has freckles
Hair is caused by Marie Antoinette syndrome
Struggled with body dysmorphia after being revived
Keeps all his receipts (they’re in a box in the kitchen) and is stingy with money
Tim Drake
Wears a Medical Identification bracelet for the spleen thing (it’s recommended guys I looked it up cause I’m normal)
Has acne
Chased Batman and Robin around with that damn camera (I fucking love this)
Has anxiety
Bisexual (not a HC but I thought I’d mention it)
Would eat the coffee grounds
Listens to video game osts
(Bring the skateboard back)
Damian
Strong nose
Just very strong features generally
Giggles, or full on cackles but there’s no In between
I think it’s be cute if he became an art therapist or a vet
Autistic
Cass
Cuts her own bangs, they look horrible<3
Lesbian
Tired to dye her hair once (with Steph and Babs)never again
Steph
Grew up in crime ally (idk where she lived so I choose to believe this- this could also be the truth, again I cannot remember rn)
Freckles
Butterfly Clips
Bisexual
Curly hair
Alfred
Had chased multiple people off of Wayne Manors premises with his shotgun ‘
Got second place in a chili cook off one time and still hasn’t recovered
Extra:
Dick and Jason are big into Taylor Swift, Jason because I think he’d like ballads/the lyrics in songs and Dick because he’s Dick
Selina Kyle actually likes the Robins, and her and Steph got along well
Jason and Steph have really thick Gotham accents, which I like to think is like a Jersey accent, Jason’s shows up more when he’s upset in any capacity, Steph’s is always there and was never trained out of her
Dick has this weird accent where it’s very clearly not anything American, but it’s not not American, and it’s because he moved so much and was around people woth so many different accents that his voice never settled on one
Damian talks to himself in Arabic- Jason knows a bit of it
Cass is a messy eater (this isn’t cannon is it?)
I think it’s be funny to imagine Tim, Cass and Steph going to High School together
Steph was that one girl in the Cookie Monster pjs in high school, and Tim was like this weird goth/skater kid
#dc comics#batman#batfam#tim drake#dick grayson#bruce wayne#jason todd#damian wayne#alfred pennyworth#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#headcannons#this is all lighthearted btw#so like if you are like wtf that’s stupid or incorrect and completely disagree then cool#I’m just here to be a nerd#goof off#and have a good time#so yeah (thumbs up)#there’s probably more#but it’s 12am and I’m tired#college is exhausting#like why and I’m so tired all the da#time now#I need a nap every 3 hours I feel like#wtf#anyway
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I just wanted to thank you for making this amazing series. Cometcare/Sparklecare have genuinely helped change my life for the better. I always hated myself for being a furry, and all the stuff you’ve made helped me realize that feeling that way about what I like is silly! I went from always feeling like trash from looking at some cute drawings, to making a tumblr account just to express my gratitude to you! Keep doing what you’re doing! Can’t wait to see where it goes next!
OOC: thank you so much! there's nothing wrong with being a furry. i tried to represent that message in arc 3 actually even if i personally don't consider my art to be "furry art" since they're just kinda animal people and not drawn in a furry style (i do have a fursona though!) sly's entire experience about being insecure sharing her art is actually directly based on how i feel sharing my art with people IRL or with my family because of how people "view" furries and such, it's an experience that's very real to me.
i guess i just wanted to show a positive depiction of the fact furries aren't always what everyone interprets them to be. and quite frankly, there's nothing wrong with them being "that way" either. sly's speech at the end of arc 3 is actually meant to show how she copes with her dysphoria by having that idealized "ferrie" version of herself, which is also something i connect with and i know a lot of other people do too. it's a bit easier to have an escape from the world around you especially if you have general self-image issues or something like gender dysphoria or dysmorphia. and sometimes it's just fun! it can be fun! drawing animals is fun!!!
cometcare is really different from the main comic because there's so many more aspects of my life and experiences and the experiences of others that i can depict and represent that just isn't possible in the limits of the main comic. it's really important to me to be able to see myself and my life and teen and child years in these characters and hearing others say that they connect with them for similar reasons is just really special to me.
thank you for this message, it's really sweet and means a lot to know it's had such a positive impact on you. i hope you enjoy the rest of the AU (and main comic)!
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