#i had kind of a rough one off my meds. it always is but like. damn. having the self-awareness really does not always save you.

[moe-broey]

Whatever....

Plus some other doodles! Not super in-depth, I didn't set out to think too deeply about it... but the Idle pose is what it would look like on the main menu/other areas where the sprites are relaxed, and the Battle Ready pose is the little animation the characters go into on a map. (The first drawing was meant to be the Battle Ready one, but! Changed my mind.)

I think the idea of Moe swapping expressions between the main poses is really cute, ESP if the expressions are opposites. Like you see characters go from a serious expression into an >:0 expression (and similarly, a smile into :D ), but I'm not sure if there's any that go from smiling to frowning/pouting... I really like the characterization of it, actually. Beyond how expressive it is in general, on a conceptual level, Moe is about balancing (if not mishmashing) opposite traits.

Any which way, the drawing I colored in is Exactly what I was envisioning for a Moe sprite! Which. I kind of alluded to w my attempt at a sprite edit (separate post). Moe would need a whole ass custom sprite. From its outfit to its pose (doesn't quite match Kiran's/the other Summoners you can pick from!). Plus, it's a staff user who has a tendency to do raptor hands (or ghost sleeves, or gay limp wrist......). I feel like its sprite would be smaller than the standard Summoners, too. Like Legendary Nohrian Corrin (being oddly smaller than all the other f!Corrins!)

I am... thinking deeply about it........

[wandering-pirate]

Mouthwashing Characters Headcanon

How the Crew Takes Care of You on Your Period

Captain Curly

Knows your cycle so well that he starts prepping his monthly Captain Curly Period Kit a week before it starts

The kit includes all hygiene products that you need including painkillers, five of your favorite chocolate bars and the best part: candid photos he had secretly taken of you, each with a note underneath

The notes ranged from awful period puns to sweet compliments. This man knows how to keep you happy, physically and emotionally

Whispers comforting words as you sob over a character’s death during movie night

Though once, it was about a cockroach getting pancaked on screen

"Babe, that roach? It’s in a better place now—cockroach heaven. Endless trash buffets, living its best afterlife”

Spoiler: it worked

Checks in on you throughout the day, either with a sweet “How’s my baby feeling?” text or by dropping into the room for a quick chat, always making sure you feel loved and cared for

He understands how hormones can mess up with your mood and always reassures you that he isn't going anywhere

Co-pilot Jimmy

The man has somehow mastered the art of finding all the right spots to massage when you're doubled over with cramps or just feeling downright miserable

What you don’t know is that he once secretly googled “how to massage girlfriend in pain” (in incognito mode cause his ego won't just let him ask outright)

Big mistake. Huge. He was immediately bombarded with nsfw content, all roleplay, mostly rough

Let’s just say it took half a day, several deep breaths, and a burning face before he stumbled onto an actual helpful website

Ever since then, he’s been sneaking off to “practice.” But it got a little weird one day

Every time you passed by, he’d be glued to his phone, staring at it with this weirdly intense look, and his free hand squeezing the air at different angles

“Uh… babe? Are you… hallucinating? Maybe some floating breast action?”

“Huh? Wha—no! Unless you’re jealous of the air now, darling. Should I be worried?”

It all paid off when you let out those godly noises he loved, his hands were massaging with just the right pressure and on the right places

To top it off, he even got an essential oil in your favorite scent

Not without drama, though—apparently, walking into Bath & Body Works fully hooded and masked with shades doesn't scream 'thoughtful boyfriend'. It screams robber

Mechanic Swansea

The man and his craftsman hands will do anything to make you comfortable

Need a hot compress? Heats up grains, puts it in a sackcloth bag and places it in your lower belly

On days when you feel ugly looking in the mirror? Secretly blurs them slightly with shampoo or soap

Cold hands? Wraps yours in his larger ones

The kids being too loud while you're in a damp mood? He'd play tea parties with them (he was crowned the princess of all dragons)

Before sleeping, he always lay the towel down at your side of the bed whenever you're at the bathroom

Even built you a custom wooden cabinet that dispenses pads and tampons efficiently. Always stocked because he secretly checks it regularly

You have to force him to sit or lay down with you when he would be silently stressing out on what more to do

"Swansea, love, you're all I need right now, just stay here with me"

Nurse Anya

The nurse uses her medical and psychological expertise like a pro, making your period feel a lot less miserable

Meds are always your bestfriend whenever your killer cramps hit and she made sure to always carry all kinds of painkillers and have every dosage for each pain scale you're in

Wincing and doubling down? she's quick to ask

"Scale of 1 to 10?"

Even when she’s busy, she finds little ways to remind you you’re not alone like leaving sticky notes with doodles of you or your favorite characters in places where you’ll find them

After noticing how you loved wrapping your feet in blankets, she got you matching fuzzy socks that you now have to wear whenever she’s around (because she’s wearing hers too)

Lovingly strokes your back and hair while you scream at reality show contestants for choosing the dumbest of choices

Very much amused and nods along every time you asked her if you're both witnessing the same stupidity

Intern Daisuke

The boy is sometimes dense but when it comes to you, he sure isn't incompetent

One day, when the bed was way too soft to escape from, you did the only logical thing: text him

"Hey Dai, can you buy me some tampons? forgot to buy some yesterday"

"Be there in 5 babe! (⁠づ⁠￣⁠ ⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠づ"

And he meant it

He gave the pharmacist a heart attack by storming in and loudly asking for a box of tampons

Proceeded to grill them on what brands were most likely to leak so he'd avoid them (no shame whatsoever)

Never arrived empty-handed. Along with the tampons, he’ll pick up a plushie, a cute keychain, a little hair accessory or literally anything he knows that will let him see your pretty smile

He’ll wrap you both up in comforters, flashdrive loaded with all your comfort movies, from romcoms to horror

The mission? Movie marathon until you're both knocked out

Despite shrieking at every jumpscare, he still kisses your forehead between scenes, like you’re the one who needs reassurance (Spoiler: he needed those forehead kisses more)

a/n: thanks so much for reading! headcanon requests are very much appreciated ʕ•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Young and Beautiful"

Prologue

ya'll, I cannot sleep with my arm in this stupid cast, so i started rereading "the great Gatsby" (my comfort book) and i got this idea. i know, i know, i have 3 unfinished fics buttttttt i'm injured and this is my blog and i have free will so i'm writing this. This is yandere romantic batboys and bruce x reader. BUT set in the roaring 20's. Send in asks, requests, ideas, and just what you think about this! Likes, comments, reblogs and asks are encouraged and keep me going! Love yall <333. This is written in 1st person, reader is recalling events in her journal. This is a rough draft for the prologue! Sorry if it doesnt make sense, i'm high off pain meds writing this bc i'm BORED.

The first time I saw Jason Todd, he was nothing to me Just another boy in my father’s estate, covered in dirt, hands rough from labor, his bruised knuckles proof of a fight he hadn’t won. His blue eyes were sharp, full of something wild, something untamed, something that made you bristle, the kind of fire you knew to stay away from, even at 12 years old.

The first time I spoke to Jason Todd, two years after I saw him, I thought he was filth.

He was a boy covered in dirt, his hands stained with mud and the smell of horses, his knuckles raw from a fight he clearly hadn’t won. His face was sharp, bruised, skinny and too wild for someone who worked under my father’s name. He was nothing, just another street rat lucky enough to be given work in my father’s stables, another nameless stray that old Mr. Wilkes had dragged in from the gutters of Gotham. He smelled like sweat, hay, and something sharp, something angry.

I was fourteen years old and wore pearls around my throat, a silk dress with delicate lace at the sleeves. My father’s estate stretched over rolling green fields, our mansion standing tall like something out of a dream. My mother’s hands were soft, her perfume sweet, and I had never known hunger or want. My world was a world of glittering lights and expensive champagne, of high society and grand parties, of people who smiled with their teeth but whispered behind painted fans.

Jason Todd did not belong in my world.

Yet, somehow, he slipped in like a stain on silk.

We met on the back steps of the estate, where the stable boys cut through to the gardens. I was waiting for my automobile when he nearly ran into me, boots dragging dust over my polished shoes.

Jason Todd? He was filth beneath my shoes.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

Because the first time I met him, he nearly ran into me.

He didn’t bow like other servants did, he didn’t apologize profusely and beg for forgiveness.

He barely even looked at me before muttering, “Watch it,” like I was in his way.

I had never been spoken to like that in my life.

I hated him immediately.

I took a startled step back, wrinkling my nose at the smell of sweat, hay, and horse.

The nerve.

I straightened my back like Daddy told me to when I wanted to look serious and I tilted my chin up as I stared down at him. "Excuse me?"

Jason smirked, slow and lazy, eyes glinting with amusement. "Did I stutter?"

I had never wanted to slap someone so badly.

Instead, I remember turning and walked away, forgetting my plans of going into town, heels clicking sharply against the stone, vowing to never look at him again and to hate him forever, no matter how handsome he was,.

That vow didn’t last long, especially when he took off his shirt.

Jason was everywhere.

I saw him at the stables, his shirtless back slick with sweat, muscles shifting under tanned skin as he worked. I saw him sneaking apples from the kitchen, disappearing into the trees, laughter on his lips. I saw him in the streets, fists flying, always coming back with fresh bruises, always alive in a way no one else was.

And then, you heard about him.

"That stable boy got into another fight," the maids whispered. "Damn near killed the other boy, apparently the other kid got smart about his lady."

At the time, I thought the strange burning feeling in my gut was disgust at even hearing Jason's name. Now I know, what I felt was pure jealousy, not knowing the 'lady' Jason nearly killed a boy over was me.

"He’s trouble," my mother warned when I asked about him at dinner. "Keep away from him, sweetheart."

"He won’t last long here," my mother sighed. "That kind of boy never does, no matter how much of a soft spot your father has for him."

My father pitied Jason, told me I oughta be nicer to him like I am to the other workers (he would regret that statement soon.)

He had no one. No mother, no father, no family, nothing but the clothes on his back and determination. He had what my father called "the look of a man who'd rather die than fail" and my father respected that.

But Jason did last.

I hated him.

Hated the way he smirked at me from across the gardens, like he knew something I didn’t.

I hated the way he never bowed, never apologized, never treated me like the others did.

I hated that when I was alone, when my father’s friends spoke about marrying me off to the sons of their business partners, I thought of Jason Todd instead.

The first conversation I had with Jason Todd was after I had fought with my father.

It was about marriage. About duty. About a boy I didn’t love.

I ran into the garden dramatically ignoring my father's desperate calls, pearls at my throat, tears in my eyes.

And Jason was already there.

Sprawled under an oak tree, cigarette between his lips, watching me like he’d been waiting for this moment all his life.

"You rich girls cry over the dumbest shit," he muttered.

I whipped around. "What did you just say to me?" How dare he speak to me like I was any other girl, like this wasn't my home, like he didn't work for my father.

Jason pushed himself up, boots kicking up dirt as he smirked. "You ever go to bed hungry?"

My breath caught. He had a point, you were privileged.

"Ever steal to survive?" His voice was low, teasing, sharp. "Ever wake up in the morning and wonder if you’ll still have a roof over your head by sundown?"

I didn’t answer, for the first time in years I felt something close to shame.

Jason tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with resentment. "Didn’t think so, princess."

I hated him. He made me feel childish. He humbled me. He burst my perfect bubble.

And I loved him for it.

I loved him for making you feel something real.

And that was the beginning of everything.

I loved Jason Todd.

I loved him when he me you out of the house at midnight and made me ride my horse bareback through the fields.

I loved him when he knocked the rich boy who called me a tease's teeth out.

I loved him when he threw pebbles at my window on the third floor and scaled the walls to my balcony.

I loved him when he kissed me for the first time at 14 under the summer stars, hands gripping my waist, mouth desperate against mine.

"You’re my Jason, my Jaybird," I whispered against his lips. Corny, but nothing felt better to say, especially when I saw his face.

Jason smiled like I had given him the whole damn world.

And he? He was my whole world.

When Jason was seventeen and I was fifteen, he walked into my father’s grand house, dressed in his best suit, nervous but determined and proud, his hands clean for once, his boots polished.

He asked my father for my hand in marriage. He asked my father for my hand and I thought he would say yes. Daddy always thought he was a hard worker, called him a real good sport.

He stood before my father and said, “I love her, sir. I’ll make her happy. Give me a chance. I ain't got much now, but one day I will. I'll give her what she's got and more.”

My father just laughed.

“Boy,” he said, shaking his head, “she’s not meant for men like you.”

Jason left that night, whispering a promise against my skin.

"I’ll come back for you, I'll be great. Be a man like how your daddy wants, rich and proper, he'll have to say yes."

I waited, god knows I did.

I wrote letters to the last address he gave me every single day.

For five years. Till I turned twenty. I never looked at another man, I had my Jason.

I waited for him to reply, fought off suitors and pressure from my mother. I waited for a reply, that he was coming soon, that he missed me.

I waited.

And my Jaybird never came back.

My father loved me.

He regretted turning Jason away five years later, when I still refused to marry. He never forced me to marry, not even when the years passed and my suitors grew frustrated with my refusals.

He saw my misery, my longing and admitted, “I should’ve said yes. I should’ve let you have him.”

He thought my Jason was a passing infatuation, he wondered what people would say about his daughter marrying the stable boy.

He wished he saw my love for Jason sooner.

But love wasn’t enough to keep the debt collectors away.

I knew something was wrong when my father began to look stressed, when my parents began to argue, and when I heard my mother cry herself to sleep after selling her favorite pearls.

My father was going to loose everything all at once.

The steel business wasn't what it used to be.

And then suddenly, Bruce Wayne arrived like a knight in shining armor.

He was older than me, 18 years my senior. Refined, powerful, and dangerously charming.

And most importantly, rich. He was exactly what I needed to stop my family's fall from grace.

Bruce courted me like a gentleman.

He sent roses every morning, took me to the finest restaurants, whispered in my ear about a future where I would never want for anything again.

He was patient.

He never forced me to love him.

He only asked for one thing.

"Let me take care of you."

I kept Bruce waiting for three months. All I could do was think of Jason. I knew he was not returning, that he either was dead or found some other pretty girl to make promises to.

I told myself love was not enough to fill an empty stomach and keep my parents happy like they did for me.

I told myself that Jason Todd was not coming back to save me, yet each morning I woke up waiting for a letter or pebbles thrown at my window.

After four months of courting, I decided.

And at twenty, I became Mrs. Bruce Wayne.

Jason Todd never sent me a single letter, but I still dreamed of my Jaybird even as I looked at the massive ring on my finger.

OKKKKK SO WHAT YA'LL THINK??? CONTINUE OR DELETE??? FLOP OR BOP? SEND IN ASKS!!!! I MISS YALL! THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING ROMANCE W JASON AND BRUCE. I REALLY LIKE THIS AU!!!! WHAT DO YALL THINK IS GONNA HAPPEN? SORRU IF IT SUCKS OR DOESNT MAKE SENSE, I'M SO HIGH BRO.

BE NICE PLEASE, I'M IN PAIN! THIS IS NOT EDITED OR PROOF READ.

[yongvillage]

bruises | k.mg

street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader

established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭

summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues

wc: 2.7k

you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.

a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.

“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.

he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.

“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”

you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.

“you shouldn’t be.”

“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”

“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“

“well i think you should stop.”

it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.

“what’s so fucking funny?”

“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”

“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”

“please y/n, it never goes that far.”

“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.

mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.

the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.

-

9:02 PM

(5) missed calls

gyu?

mingyu im sorry

are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?

please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((

a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.

he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.

“you leaving?”

mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.

when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.

he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.

you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.

“did he say anything to you when he left?”

“nah, he just walked out.”

oh. it was minghao.

“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”

mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.

“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.

“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”

“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.

“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”

his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.

“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”

you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.

“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.

“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.

“please, i want to.”

mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.

you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.

“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”

you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.

“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”

mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.

it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.

you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.

“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”

you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.

“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.

“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”

mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”

with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.

your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.

“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.

“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”

“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.

“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.

you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.

“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.

you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.

mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.

you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.

“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.

“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”

mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.

tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”

you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.

“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”

“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.

“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”

you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.

“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”

“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.

the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.

“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.

you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.

mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.

you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.

“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”

“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.

“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”

“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.

“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.

@yongvillage | thank you for reading!

[endo-bunny]

Sit Down Now and Rest

-~-~-~-~-~-~

Description: You had anxiety and depression, and Tony and Bruce were more than happy with getting you anxiety meds the moment that you asked. When you stop taking your meds, your mental health plummets and spirals as well as your physical health, and everyone notices. Don't worry though, they're there for you.

Pairing: (Platonic) Avengers x Teen!Reader

Type: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Depression, anxiety, sickness, fainting, dizziness, taking meds(both medicated and just vitamins/iron supplements), dehydration, insomnia, depressive and hurtful thoughts, reader doesn't talk very much in this, nicknames(Kiddo, Kid, Hun)

Word Count: 1,627

Note: I may or may not have written this with too much of myself being present… But it's fine! I also wrote this at like 2 in the morning so it's kinda rough but I just needed to get this typed out so here ya go! Also, the characters might be kinda ooc because I haven't watched any marvel movies in a little while but I've been hyper focused on fics with them lately so yea. And I am working on my tlou and tech fics, it's just hard to find the motivation to write them, but don't worry, I'm working on em.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

You were quick to notice that you stopped taking your meds. You knew that they helped you, but you couldn't get yourself to start the habit of taking them again. You wanted to, most definitely, but you couldn't. Every day was the same. Wake up, look at your meds, contemplate taking them, saying you'll take them later, go train, eat, and then not take them.

You also stopped taking them at night too. You had even set alarms so that you'd remember to take them, but it didn't help at all. Natasha was the first to notice that something was up, being the closest one with you. When she realized that something wasn't quite right, she made sure to keep a close eye on you. She was quick to pick up how dizzy you looked when you'd get up, sometimes not even being able to stay standing before you crumbled back onto the couch. You'd always play it off as if you just lost your footing but she and everyone else knew that that wasn't the case.

One morning you had gotten up much later than you had recently been getting up. When you checked the time, it was around two in the afternoon. You got up and went to the kitchen, feeling extremely hungry after forgetting, and also just not wanting dinner the night prior. When you arrived in the kitchen, Tony was there. He had kind of taken up the father role in your life.

The moment he saw that you had finally arose, he was quick to make a snarky comment in good fun, “Ah! The beast has finally awoken from their slumber, now off they go to find their beauty.”

You only roll your eyes, ignoring him. You felt exhausted, even though you got close to ten hours of sleep seeing as you fell asleep around 4 in the morning. You couldn't find anything easy to fix or that looked appetizing in the fridge or pantry so you just opted for a bottle of water that you would only take a sip or two of then leave with your other five almost full water bottles on your nightstand.

Before you could go back to the confines of your room, Tony had to ask you a question, “ Hey kiddo, did you take your meds?”

The question caught you off guard, not expecting him to ask seeing as he hasn't asked in a real long time.

“Oh yea! I, um, took them earlier but fell back asleep. Yea, that's what I did!”

You try to make it seem like you weren't lying through your teeth, but weren't very successful because of how exhausted you were. However, before Tony could confront you, you book it to your room. You hide there for the rest of the day, not coming out for Dinner. Steve had come by to tell you that dinner was ready but you told him that you weren't very hungry as you just kept your

on the book that you had your nose in. You kept your light on all night, not feeling tired.

The next morning, Nat knocked on your door around eight, coming to get you so that you could train with her. When she opened your door, she saw you laying on your back staring up at the ceiling. You looked exhausted and had dark circles under your eyes. When Bat opened the door, you flung up in surprise. You hadn't heard her knocking so you weren't expecting for the door to randomly open. You couldn't tell who it was at first because your vision went fuzzy black as your body tried to accommodate the sudden movement that you caused. Nat waited for you to acknowledge her.

When you did after a couple seconds, you looked over at the time, confused. It had just been two the last time you looked at the clock. How could it be eight all of the sudden? You were brought out of your thoughts by Natasha trying to talk to you. You zoned back in, giving her a questioning look.

“I said, are you ok? You look exhausted Hun. I came by to get ya to come train but it looks like you need to rest for a couple days.”

“Oh! No, I'm fine. Just give me a couple minutes to get ready and I'll be down and we can get to work in no time!”

She gave you a skeptical look but nodded, closing your door behind her.

When you got down to the training room, Bucky and Steve were there with Natasha. They smiled upon seeing you walk in. However, Bucky and Steve's bright smiles dropped upon looking at your figure. You were slouched, tired eyes not fully open and your eye bags were extremely dark.

Bucky was the first to point it out, “Hey Kid, you ok? You aren't looking too good.”

You only shrugged, your body aching and your throat feeling scratchy and sore for some reason.

As you're sparring with Natasha, you continuously have to stop the match because you go into coughing fits. As finish with your last coughing fit you go back to Natasha, but she's packing her stuff up.

“Wait, where are you going?” You're voice comes rather harsh and rude as you ask the red head.

“I think you should rest for the rest of the day Hun. I'll come check on you in a little while. But go take your meds and also some cough syrup and eat something.”

You didn't say anything as you grabbed your stuff and walked back to your room. This was stupid. It was just a little cold. You can still fight. You need to train. Deep down though you knew you needed to listen to her and do as she said. In the end, you don't. You go back to your room, take a sip or two of water, get a small snack and then sit down in the living room with a book.

You try to read it, but you can't stay focused for long enough to. Your mind is spiraling and racing. You kept replaying how training went. You were so pathetic. And rude. How could you be so rude? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You slam the book down onto the sofa, huffing.

You hadn't noticed that some of the others had joined you in the living room. They look up at you, surprised. They weren't used to seeing you like this. You tried to get up quickly, wanting to get away from this embarrassing situation.

The moment you get up, the world goes black, buzzing and ringing is the only thing you can hear as you collapse. You feel something picking you up and setting you down on the couch. You blink your eyes a couple times, slowly feeling sensation being restored in your body. You look around you and see that Bruce is coming over with a damp cloth and water. Nat has your head resting in her lap and Tony has your hand in his. They all look worried as they stare down at you. You hear gasped as Steve and Bucky walk in.

Questions are being thrown at you, too fast for you to comprehend. You instinctively put your hands on your ears, feeling overwhelmed. They all quiet down upon seeing this. Tony is the one to ask the questions from then on.

“Hey, it's ok. We're sorry, didn't mean to overwhelm ya like that. Can ya sit up?”

You nodded, feeling embarrassed now. Tony nodded and Nat helped you sit up, allowing you to lean against her.

“Ok, drink some water, you're ok,” Tony hands you the water that Bruce had brought over as Bruce is wiping your face with the cold damp cloth.

“Ya feeling better?”

“Ya, I'm fine.”

“Have you been taking your meds, kid?”Tony doesn't hold back, knowing what it looks like when you don't take the meds that have been helping you produce what your body needs.

You sheepishly look down at your hands that are fidgeting in your lap. You inhale sharply before shaking your head no.

They all sigh, Natasha being the one to talk this time, “Why haven't you been taking your meds, Hun?”

“I-I just don't want to… I don't like the feeling.”

They looked at each other, wondering what to say. As they look at each other, you go to stand up, but they make sure that you don't get up.

“Sit down now and rest,” Bucky's voice comes from behind you, his hands still on your shoulders.

“I'm sorry…” Your voice comes out in a whisper.

“You're forgiven kiddo, but ya gotta start taking your meds again.” Steve comes over and sits on the other side of you as he speaks.

“I know.”

“How bout I take my medication with ya? God knows that I haven't been taking it as much as I should be,” Tony chuckles as he tries to negotiate with you.

You didn't know if it would actually help you but you were open to the idea.

“Good, drink some more water. Now what do you want to watch? Hm? TV's all yours,” Tony stood up, giving you the TV remote as everyone decided to sit down on the couch.

You picked your comfort movie as you snuggled up with Steve and Nat. Tony had gotten you some actual food, and by the time the movie was over, you had drank all the water, ate all the food, fell asleep, and almost everyone else had fallen asleep as well. You felt safe with the people that cared about you all around you. You knew that this would be a journey, but you also knew that you weren't alone.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

Tag list: @fakegingerrights @macchiato-dreaming22 @silnebula

[tarotofhope]

Note: These are just my random personal observations, I hope you guys resonate with this. You can apply this to both western or vedic placements. There are some triggers/negative traits as well in some points, but please don't take any offense. I'll be writing mostly about Sun placements mainly because we don't get to know about people's other placements easily.

☾✴ Taurus moons or ascendants especially the ones with Rohini Nakshatra look gorgeous, soft, sensual and sexy. They have these beautiful big round eyes, button noses and full prominent lips. They have great sex appeal.

☾✴ I've noticed that people who have Libra placements in the big 3 have pale or lighter skin color than other people, no matter what ethnicity, culture, religion you belong to, I mean to say that, whether you're brown, black or white, If you have this placement, you will have either a fairer, more lighter shade or paler skin than other people. These guys rarely have skin problems because their skin is very healthy, clean, free of acne, almost like baby skin.

☾✴ Gemini Sun women mostly have curly or very wavy hair. They like to have shorter hair length and love to change their hairstyles often. Gemini Sun men are also very conscious about their hair, they also love to fashion their hair in different styles.

☾✴ Aries Sun men and women are very emotional from the inside, they would punch you in the face if you get them angry but then they'd also feel very bad about it later. They would cry for their loved ones very easily but people are always fooled by their rough and tough exterior.

☾✴ Cancer Sun women know very well how to hide behind their emotional veil even when they're at fault. Playing victim, they'd attack from behind that veil, making the other person look faulty. They're very uncomfortable around other strong and confident women, so they use their only weapon(emotions) to bring them down. They mostly see straightforward behaviour and confidence as a bad attribute or a threat.

☾✴ Virgo Sun women assume the weirdest of sh*t about other people's personal stuff, especially the things they're not aware about. I can give you n number of examples for this because I kid you not, I've mostly met Virgos all my life uptil now, all genders, all ages. They are good at rational analysis but this habit comes off as different to me from their otherwise popular traits. I've noticed this mostly in women, like many years ago, I had a bad cough and cold for a few days(not during Covid), I took a day off, went to the doctor, took my meds but had to go to office next day, so while in office, this one colleague who was a Virgo sat in the next cubicle besides me, so I was coughing most of the time, she looked at me and asked, "Are you suffering from TB? Haven't you seen a doctor? See, I'm telling you, it might be TB, you must go check." I was like wtf..!! I said, "No! It's not TB and I did go to the doctor. It's just common cough and cold, don't assume just anything." More than looking worried, she talked in a tone like I was dumb and stupid. My mom(a Virgo Sun), makes similar kind of weird assumptions, almost everyday.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC & Astrology Observations. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

——————————— ♡ ♡ ♡ ———————————

[lychgate]

i haven't posted a really poorly drawn thought piece adventure in years so here's a brief update!

hope i hit the read more thing right oh well anyway:

"Spent a lot of time applying for a home loan. I had to pay -fucked up- to have a convincing income for a decent loan. It was very confusing but cody helped me a lot."

"Cody proposed to me It felt wonderful that someone wanted to share their time and love with me. Cody proposed Anthrohio weekend, it's the con we really met at."

"We saw the listing that sunday morning before we had to go to our table to vend."

"It was a perfect house. We were the first people to view it and we immediately put in a bid. And we got the house. Many papers to sign."

"Moving was not easy. It took 2 whole months. Cody was out of town helping their grandma recover from a big surgery and we had to sell their old house/move that as well as move from my apartment. ALSO THE PETS: My cat dick wolf + Cody's 3 birds. Until we could get some doors installed and separate the house, I had to live between two places every day to feed and care for them."

"Still, life was good. I bought my first house! It has a swing in the backyard. I've never had my own backyard. I've never even lived somewhere that had trees (in said yard) It felt nice. Living together with the love of my life and 4 pets."

"Through all this i never closed my shop. How could I? It was my income, and I just bought a house. It needed to stay open. Moving that much inventory, setting up a new office, the house is a nice size but it's not huge, so, very careful organizing had to be executed if I wanted my apparel laid out right. (Which I totally managed to do)"

"but i Did get really good at baking pies. the two are connected."

"sacred_crow on instagram!"

"there's like 25 of u bastards i would absolutely die for, and about 75 more that i would go nearly dead over."

"We have an extra bedroom so I got to turn it into a toy room. There's games, crafts, stuffed animals, movies, a sick loft I painted the shit out of. It rules. It brings me a lot of Joy."

"Under the loft we have a dug out where we can watch VHS tapes. I love to sit with Cody and watch movies and play Donkey Kong."

"I am not good at Banjo Kazooie, but Cody is. Cody is so talented. I love watching them play games. (Depicted is not banjo kazooie but donkey kong country 2 as we are currently playing that. I'm good at DKC but I will still swear and make sounds like im about to throw up)"

"Half the basement is finished, so we turned it into a dual office space. It rules. Cody has a whole side for fursuit crafting, and my side is mostly my gigantic gamer computer area/shipping area. I took a whole wall to put all my non apparel merch like pins charms and notebooks also. for hte love of god someone buy the notebooks they take up more space then i wanted"

"I love to look over from my computer and see cody working. They always look so focused, yet peaceful."

"It's winter but it rains. I miss the snow. I lived by the lakes growing up. I miss piles of snow. It's just wet and cold here. Yes i'm quite aware of global warming"

"I got kicked off both my health and car insurance. I fixed the car one but health insurance still no. All my meds have gone away. The past few months have been hard. I think way too much lately. I can't get myself to do anything. -this is a whole page of downer bullshit and i cropped it!-"

"We had a leaky ceiling that took a month to fix. Cody did all the work because they are smart and kind."

"Oh yeah I had my uterus removed earlier this year. They let me keep it. It's in a jar in my living room."

"We threw a very nice halloween party. I was the green m&m. Cody was the monarch."

"We adopted 8 beautiful kiwis from a crane machine at the mall. we spent over 100 monies to get them but it was worth it."

"

It was a rough year. My health is in decline. Our country may try to end my life for being trans soon (lol?) I am in hte middle of a colossal mental breakdown of my core fundamental behavior (depression advanced) BUT ALSO: I am engaged to my favorite person. We bought a house together. I'm beginning a new chapter of my life. I have a swing in my backyard. The negatives suck but there are also many positives. The cycle of emotions is immense, but there is beauty in it. There is beauty in life, and isn't that wonderful?"

[cheynovak]

American Sin

Soldier boy x Angel aka Y/N Female supe

Summary: set somewhere in the 70s. Before gunpowder soldier boy had another sidekick who he couldn't get along with... until one horrible incident.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Almost rape, Name calling,SB being SB, talk of virginity, ...

English isn't my first language.

Please do not copy my work. Sharing/likes and comments are appreciated.

**Chapter One: Hell’s Angel**

The club reeked of sweat, booze, and cheap cologne. Neon lights flickered, barely cutting through the haze of cigarette smoke curling toward the ceiling. The bass from the speakers thrummed in Soldier Boy’s chest, but he barely noticed. He was nursing a glass of bourbon, legs spread wide, one arm thrown over the back of the booth.

The bartender had sent some groupie over—a redhead with legs up to her neck and stars in her eyes. She giggled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, but he wasn’t paying attention. He had bigger problems.

Like the girl sitting across from him.

Vought called her Hell's Angel, which was some real ironic shit, given that she walked in here with a damn rosary around her wrist.

Her outfit told a different story: a black leather mini-skirt, ripped fishnets, a cropped tank with “God Is Dead” scribbled across it in red. She had the look—Vought had made sure of that—but everything else about her screamed not one of us.

But the world and Ben would soon start to call her, just Angel.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Soldier Boy’s voice was rough, slurred slightly from the whiskey. He gestured at her, as if the mere sight of her offended him. “This is what they sent me?”

She stiffened, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t exactly ask for this gig either, sir.” Her voice was clear, cutting through the noise around them. She had a little bite. He’d give her that.

“Then why the hell are you here?”

A muscle in her jaw twitched. “Money.”

Soldier Boy snorted. “Yeah? You don’t look like the type.”

She glared. “Not all of us get a fat check for pretending to be America’s hero.”

That made him laugh—loud and mean. “You got some balls, sweetheart.” He took another sip of his drink, then pointed at her. “Alright, Angel, what’s your deal? What do you do?”

Her hands clenched into fists on the table. “Electromagnetic manipulation.”

He raised an eyebrow. “English, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes. “I control electricity. Short-circuit things. Cause blackouts. That kind of stuff.”

Soldier Boy exhaled through his nose. “Great. So if I need a goddamn lightbulb changed, you’re my girl.”

The sarcasm didn’t seem to rattle her, which annoyed him even more. “You want a demonstration?” she asked, voice sugar-sweet.

Without waiting for permission, she flicked her wrist toward the neon sign above the bar. Sparks shot from the wiring, the glow flickering before the whole thing popped and died, plunging half the club into darkness.

Shouting. Chaos. The bartender swore. Someone tripped over a chair.

Soldier Boy just whistled low.

She smirked, satisfaction flickering in her eyes before she quickly wiped it away. “Can I go now?”

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” he said, leaning forward, his grin wolfish. “Vought wants us to be a team. That means we need to—what do they always say?—get along.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not here to be your friend.”

“Trust me, I’d rather chew glass.” He knocked back the rest of his drink, then slapped the glass down on the table. “But Vought’s footing the bill for your mom’s meds, right?”

She flinched—so quick he almost missed it.

“Yeah,” he said, dragging out the word. “I know why you’re here.” He leaned back, stretching his arms along the booth. “So I suggest you play nice, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want them cutting you off.”

The hatred in her eyes was delicious. Good. This was gonna be fun.

--

Vought Tower was nothing like she’d imagined. It wasn’t just a building—it was a goddamn kingdom. Floor-to-ceiling windows, gold-trimmed decor, and a constant swarm of assistants, PR reps, and corporate types pretending the world revolved around them.

Y/N had been here for months now, long enough to get used to the bullshit.

She had learned two things fast:

1. The public liked her, but they *loved* Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess more.

2. She didn’t give a shit.

Vought could dress her up however they wanted—make her wear leather, throw her into staged bar fights, and slap a rebellious nickname on her—but the public wasn’t stupid. They saw through it.

Her ex-boyfriend hadn’t helped.

One interview. One smug asshole telling the world she was a prude, that he hadn’t been “allowed to touch her,” that she was just some Catholic good girl pretending to be something she wasn’t.

That was all it took. The media went wild.

“Hell’s Angel? More like Heaven’s Nun.”

“America’s Sweetheart? Or America’s Ice Queen?”

It was all bullshit, but she ignored it. As long as Vought kept her mom’s medical bills covered, she didn’t care what people thought.

The Twins, though? They thought it was hilarious. That’s how she ended up outside Soldier Boy’s room.

"He needs you. Urgent.” That’s what the twins had told her, all wide-eyed and serious. And like an idiot, she believed them.

The second she pushed the door open, she knew she’d fucked up.

Soldier Boy was naked. Completely, unapologetically, stark-fucking-naked.

Not alone, either.

Three girls—two blondes and a brunette—were tangled in silk sheets, their bare limbs draped over him like he was some goddamn king. The room smelled like liquor, smoke, and sex.

Soldier Boy barely even looked surprised.

She? She stood there frozen, mortified, her brain short-circuiting worse than the neon sign she’d fried back at the club.

One of the blondes giggled. “Well, well. Looks like someone got lost.”

Soldier Boy just smirked. That smug, lazy smirk that made her want to slap him. “Ah sweetheart, I'll be right with you, I'll finish Cathy..."

"Kate." One of them corrected him.

"Kate," He started over "I'll finish her and your next."

Her stomach twisted. Her face burned. She wanted to disappear. To run, to burn her eyes as he did what he said and just... get along with it.

The girls giggled and moaned.

Her jaw clenched. She straightened, forced her expression blank, and leveled him with a cold stare. “Vought says you’re supposed to be a role model. Guess that’s a joke too.”

Then she turned on her heel and walked out. The laughter rang in her ears long after she shut the door behind her.

Inside the room, the girls were still talking, their voices muffled but clear enough.

"I read she’s a virgin," one of them giggled. "Guess she couldn’t handle you, huh?"

Another one chimed in, fake sympathy dripping from her voice. "Yeah, Soldier Boy, better stay with us. You need a real woman."

More laughter. More of that smug, taunting amusement, like she was some naive little girl who didn’t belong here.

She clenched her fists and walked on.

--

The smell of coffee and fried bacon filled the kitchen as Y/N sat at the counter, idly stirring her cereal. She wasn’t really hungry, but she had an early morning photoshoot, and skipping meals would just give Vought’s PR team another excuse to ride her ass.

She was halfway through a spoonful when he walked in. Y/N tried to focus on her breakfast, but her brain had other ideas.

Ben.

Fresh out of bed, looking like he didn’t give a single shit about anything.

His robe was wide open, showing off that broad, muscled chest, and the only thing he had on was a pair of low-slung training pants. The man didn’t believe in modesty. Never had. He strolled through the kitchen like this all the time, half-dressed, yawning, scratching his chest, stretching his arms over his head—like he knew people were looking.

Ben was right there, standing across from her, half-dressed like he always was.

Robe hanging open, coffee cup in hand, his chest on full display. And lower—her gaze betrayed her, flickering down to where his sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips.

And. Well.

Jesus Christ.

Was every man blessed like that?

She had no frame of reference, no real experience outside of a few PG-13 make-out sessions, but something told her that what she was seeing was... above average.

Way above.

Memories of that night flashed in her head—walking into his room, seeing him in full glory, tangled up with those three girls. The sounds. The way he barely even looked surprised, just amused by her reaction.

She swallowed hard.

Heat crept up her neck, and she forced herself to look away, staring down into her cereal like it held the secrets of the universe.

But it was too late.

She could feel his smirk before she even looked up.

“Something on your mind, Angel?” Ben’s voice was slow, thick with amusement.

Her stomach dropped.

Shit.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes, only to find him watching her with that cocky expression—like he’d caught her red-handed and was enjoying every second of it.

“Not at all,” she said quickly, too quickly.

His smirk widened. “Huh. Could’ve sworn you were staring.” He took a casual sip of his coffee, gaze never leaving hers. “Lotta thoughts running through that pretty little head of yours?”

She gritted her teeth. “You’re disgusting.”

He chuckled. “Disgusting?” He gestured at himself lazily. “Sweetheart, I saw you looking. I get it. You got questions.”

Y/N’s face burned." I don’t have questions.”

“Sure,” he said, unconvinced. Then, just to be a bastard, he adjusted the himself in his sweatpants.

Her eyes betrayed her again.

His laughter was damn near sinful. “You’re adorable.”

She shot up from her seat, gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping her from electrocuting his ass right there. “I was not looking,” she snapped, voice high with mortification.

Ben leaned in, voice dropping to a mock whisper. “Angel, if you’re curious, all you gotta do is ask.”

Her hands sparked.

He grinned. “Careful. Wouldn’t wanna short-circuit the place just ‘cause you got flustered.”

He grabbed a mug, pouring himself another coffee like he didn’t have a care in the world and sat next to her. “Big morning, Angel?”

That damn nickname. He only ever used it when he was feeling extra annoying.

She didn’t look up. “Photoshoot.”

He snorted. “Lemme guess—more fake ‘bad girl’ bullshit?” He leaned against the counter, taking a slow sip. “Think they’ll finally give you a miniskirt that doesn’t make you look like a Catholic schoolgirl trying too hard?”

She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay calm. Ignore him. Don’t take the bait.

But he wasn’t done.

He smirked over the rim of his cup. “Or maybe they’ll just put you in a nun outfit. Wouldn’t want America’s Virgin to give anyone the wrong idea.”

Her grip on the spoon tightened.

He loved this. Ever since her ex went running to the press, Ben had made it his personal mission to tease her about it every chance he got. And in private? He was worse.

"Twenty-one and still pure as snow," he drawled, shaking his head. "Jesus, sweetheart. What are you waiting for, marriage?"

She knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. She wasn’t going to give him one.

Calmly, she took another bite of cereal, chewing slowly before answering. “What I do or don’t do isn’t your business, Ben.”

He chuckled. “Oh, sweetheart—everything in this place is my business.”

Her eyes flicked up to him for just a second—just a second—and he caught her.

That cocky smirk spread wider.

He saw the way her gaze had drifted, how she’d let it skim over his chest, down to his abs, before snapping back up.

Shit

Ben leaned in, setting his coffee down on the counter beside her. Close enough that she could smell the faint traces of whiskey still lingering on his breath from last night.

“Careful, Angel,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “Look too long, and people might start thinking you’re curious.”

Her face burned.

She inhaled sharply, grabbed her plate, and stormed out of the kitchen without another word.

Ben’s laughter followed her down the hall.

She hated him.

She hated him so damn much.

--

The studio lights blazed hot overhead as Y/N shifted in her pose, adjusting to the photographer’s demands.

It was supposed to be a simple shoot. Just another set of promotional images—leather, fishnets, smoky eyeliner, the whole rebel girl act Vought was still trying to push.

But from the moment she walked in, something felt off.

The photographer, some industry creep named Mitch, had barely looked her in the eye when they introduced him. Instead, his gaze dragged over her body, assessing her like she was just another prop.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Mitch called, circling her like a vulture. “Let’s see some attitude. Hands on your hips, chin up—yeah, that’s it.”

She adjusted.

He frowned.

“Nah, nah, let me—”

Before she could react, his hands were on her.

Instead of just directing her, he physically grabbed her waist, twisting her slightly. “Need you to angle this way.”

Y/N stiffened. She didn’t like being touched. Not like this. Not by him. She stepped away subtly. “You can just tell me what you need.”

Mitch ignored her.

The shoot continued, and every few shots, he found another excuse to touch her. Adjusting her stance, tilting her chin, running his hands over her arms under the guise of “fixing” her pose.

Each time, Y/N moved away. Each time, he did it again. Trying to get her into very intimate poses and stands.

Something in her gut twisted.

Then, when she tried to step back again, his grip tightened She froze.

The overhead lights flickered.

Mitch smiled like nothing was wrong. “Relax, sweetheart. You’re too stiff. Here let me help you relax..."

Her breathing picked up. “I said—”

Before she could finish, he shoved her back—into the wall.

The impact knocked the breath from her lungs. Panic slammed into her, sharp and blinding. His hands roamed lower.

He yanked at the fishnets Vought made her wear, his fingers tearing through the fabric.

“No,” she choked out, begging. “Please—”

His grip was firm. He wasn’t letting go. Terror locked up her limbs.

Then, all at once— The entire studio exploded in light.

The bulbs burst in a violent flash. Sparks rained down from the ceiling. The room hummed with electricity, static crackling in the air like a coming storm.

Mitch yelped, stumbling back. That was all she needed.

She ran.

--

Ben was still at the kitchen table, halfway through his coffee, when the lights flickered. At first, he thought it was just her.

Angel had been moody as shit that morning—not that he minded, it was fun to mess with her—and when she got worked up, electronics tended to act up. But this?

This was different.

The entire building pulsed like a power surge was about to take out the grid. The bulbs in the ceiling buzzed, flickering erratically. For a second, he thought they might explode.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it was over.

Ben raised an eyebrow but didn’t think too much of it. Not until a blur of black and leather came tearing past the kitchen.

She was running, eyes wild, breath ragged, shoulders shaking.

The coffee mug hit the table with a sharp *clink* as Ben stood. He barely had time to process it before instinct kicked in—follow her.

She was halfway down the hall when he caught up, grabbing her arm. “Whoa, whoa—”

The second he touched her, she lashed out. She fought.

Not the usual way—no smartass comments, no playful shoves. She fought like she was fighting for her life.

Ben had seen her in combat, had watched her take down men twice her size without hesitation. But this? This was different.

She was panicked. Wild. Desperate to get away.

“Hey! Angel!" he barked, gripping her tighter. She kept struggling, arms flailing, her hands sparking dangerously.

Ben sighed, then hauled her over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes. She kicked. She screamed. She damn near electrocuted him.

He didn’t let go.

Back in the kitchen, he set her down on the counter, hands firm on her waist to keep her still. “Alright, enough, ” he snapped. “What the hell happened?”

She wouldn’t look at him. Her breathing was too fast.Her hands were shaking so badly she had to clutch the counter. She looked like she was on the verge of collapsing. Her face and eyes puff from crying hysterical.

And then—he saw it.

The ripped fishnets. The fabric, torn at the thigh. The bruises already forming on her legs.

Ben went still. Something inside him turned cold.

His jaw clenched. “Who?”

Y/N swallowed hard, still refusing to meet his eyes.

His grip tightened. “Who did this to you?"

--

Taglist:

Jensen: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn

[dystopyx-blog]

So this is a thought I had after the unmedicated post, but what if ya had chronic pain? Like my good days are constant emergency levels for someone else, and on the bad days I just don't function or function by acting really bitchy. Like, imagine the sweet or chill prefect suddenly being a complete asshole then someone (probably Rook) reveals it's because their meds completely left their system.

Yes!! This kinda works with the post that inspired the unmedicated fic, which you can check out here.

I raise you this though: imagine the yandere bois tm finding out the sweet/kind/chill/patient ramshackle suffers so much all the time.

I can imagine Floyd not even fully squeezing you and you yelp out in pain just from that. You play it off as best as you can, but Jade's curiosity is piqued.

You probably tell your freshman besties first, but everyone will quickly learn from there. I mean, Sebek will absolutely tell Malleus and Epel will end up telling Vil.

The information gets to Jade and Floyd, who take it to Azul.

Deuce ends up spilling it to Riddle one time while trying to defend you. Ace will then blab to you about how Deuce messed up.

Its a whole mess

But now everyone knows about your chronic pain, and all of a sudden everyone's treating you like you're glass.

Even the ones you wouldn't imagine!! Like you'd think Leona would be Mr. Tough Love "Go walk it off." But no. He's still an asshole about the whole thing, but he's a condescending asshole, always telling you you can't do shit by yourself so let him handle it. Or at least let Ruggie handle it. He doesn't understand why you try so fucking hard, you have a great excuse to just relax. So he forces you to.

Everyone is kind of like this, with varying degrees of affection and subtleties.

Riddle is also very rood about it, yelling at you to just stand still.

Azul is more subtle, always creating illusions of choice, making you think you have options, when you don't. Tricking you into taking easier paths while you think you're roughing it.

Jamil basically treats you like he does Kailm. Which, if you're like me, makes you feel bad. But even just the fact you feel bad reminds him why he prefers you over Kalim 1009000%. He wishes you'd stop fussing and let him take care of you.

Vil is also fairly patronizing while he dotes on you. He treats you like a doll, dressing you up and styling you, because with your fragile little bones this is kinda the best thing for you. And he also really doesn't understand why you won't just sit down and let him love you.

If you're sensing a pattern, you are correct. No one fucking understands why you won't just fucking relax and let everyone take care of everything for you.

Idia sees your chronic pain as the PERFECT excuse to never have to go somewhere in person and yet??? You keep going out in person??? Bro, just stay with him, then you BOTH have an excuse to just fucking chill in his room while a floating iPad handles all your school problems.

Finally, Malleus. Awwww, you're so cute, trying so hard. But also he feels so hurt everytime you try to do something without him. To him, your chronic pain is the invitation for him. It's your very body crying out to him for comfort. And Malleus never turns down an invitation.

[facefullofsadness]

HII SORRY IDK IF REQS R ON OR OFF BUT CAN I REQ GUITARIST DOM NEIGHBOUR YUNJIN X NERD SUB Y/N (FEM)

first of all, yes reqs are open dw. second, ANON IM OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT GRRR FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

content - dom guitarist neighbor!yunjin x nerd sub!y/n (written like "studious nerd" not "loser nerd" like in the sakura fic), smut (rough sex, fingering, choking, degradation, mommy kink, edging)

wc - 1652

a/n - ffos stop writing rockstar!yunjin smut challenge (difficulty: impossible). and when I do a rockstar!au series w a bunch of diff idols just fucking y/n brainless, then what? bc look at the material, rockstar winter, giselle, hanni, yunjin, wendy, phew, I'm dizzy.

all you want to do is study or relax, but yunjin has her own agenda.

I imagine you're some kind of stem or pre-med major where ur head is always buried in books, trying to study and memorize and re-memorize and review all this fucking material. ur always preoccupied with your studies that when u finally get that moment to rest, you really bask in the peace of silence after a long day.

but of course, you can never have good things. bc as soon as you lay back on your couch, ur favorite snack next to you and putting your comfort show on the tv, you hear music blasting from your neighbor. the melody u conclude being an arctic monkeys song (taste jennifer! listen to do I wanna know for immersion :)) which you would enjoy on any other day, if not for the fact that you were trying to relax and NOT feel the vibrations of the electric guitar from next door. that being said, this neighbor had been practicing music EVERY DAY for the past few weeks.

it drove u insane. you have never tried to confront ur neighbor bc you hoped they would stop on their own (maybe due to social anxiety too but that's neither here nor there), but after WEEKS of this perpetual migraine, you had no choice.

building up the courage to walk over to their door and proceeding to practically pound on it, music louder now that you were outside their apartment. you were fully prepared to go ape-shit on the menace that had been tormenting your serenity for so long. but you didn't prepare for them to be hot?!

the music stopping after 3 rounds of your aggressive knocking and finally a red-haired sexy ass woman swung open the door fully, guitar slung on her back and tatted arms crossed, wearing black tattered clothes, the woman towering over you as she leaned forward, looking up at her eyebrow and septum piercings.

you gulped nervously, not expecting such a sight, the ginger raising an eyebrow at you curiously.

"what do you want?" she'd ask annoyedly.

her tone pissed you off and snapped u out of your trance, "for you to lower your music or stop playing."

bold, she thought.

"why should I?" the woman leaned against her door frame, a smirk tugging at her lips.

you huff out frustratingly, "because you've been blasting your music for the past few weeks and I'm sick and tired of it, it gives me a headache and you have no respect."

she scoffs, "aw, is my princess missing out on her beauty sleep?"

you close ur eyes and sigh, regaining urself so you wouldn't blow up, then looking up at the girl's eyes, "can you PLEASE lower the music at least?"

the ginger uncrosses her arms and leans forward again, one hand on the door frame and another gesturing at you, "do I get anything in return for being such a good girl for you?"

u feel chills go down your spine at her words and your cheeks heat up. the sound of her deep chuckle makes you look away.

"fuck you're cute, what's your name?" she tilts her head to the side.

"y-y/n."

"I've never seen you around y/n. you're telling me I've been living next to an absolute babe for the past few months and I didn't know? can't be having that."

your eyes dart anywhere else before you clear your throat, "anyway, thank you, I'll get going now."

"ah, ah, ah, not so fast y/n-ie. I haven't even told you my name yet!" you feel a hand snatch your wrist and pull you back, your body falling into hers.

you look up at the red-haired neighbor, "it's yunjin, jennifer to friends, but you can moan mommy to me."

you scream internally and feel your heartbeat racing. it'd be so fucking cringe to hear it if anyone else said it, but something about the way jen held you and looked at you like her next meal made your lower stomach feel on fire.

"do you wanna know how talented guitarists are with their fingers?" her naughty half-lidded gaze trailed the features of your face, looking so innocent to her, with your large black framed glasses and wide eyes.

"you're disgusting and a pervert miss jennifer," you say, trying to cover up your attraction to her and the situation (failing btw).

you try to pull away from her grasp, her strong hands gripping your arms tighter and holding you close, her face coming closer to yours, "oh please, don't lie and tell me you don't wanna fuck me."

"you really don't have any respect do you?"

"and where was your respect? came pounding on my door, demanding whatever bullshit you just said, didn't even ask me for my name miss neighbor!" a cocky smile spreading on yunjin's face.

"well I apologize but it should be common sense to not blast your music for the entire 5th floor to hear," you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in her hold.

"you look even better when you're angry, maybe I should piss you off some more."

god she pissed you off so much, it's unfortunate the girl was really fucking hot.

"I'm not pissed," you lied.

"no? what are you then? horny?" the audacity really.

you roll your eyes, "can I go?"

jen gives you an annoyingly smug expression and shakes her head left to right before pulling you into her place, shutting the door behind you, and pinning you to it.

"you may not be horny, which I don't believe, but I am now."

her grip leaves your arms and trails your sides. you let out a heavy sigh but try to hold your composure.

"hm? you're not pushing me away? does that mean I'm right?"

she chuckles lowly next to your ear, her greedy hands slipping under your sweatshirt and rubbing the skin.

"sh-shut up," you mumble, turning your head away from her face in your neck, her mouth leaving hot breaths and wet kisses across it.

her calloused fingertips tap against your waist and travel higher, "no bra? was your intention to get fucked so I could change my mind?"

she's so vulgar, like it gives you the ick, but she feels so good, you ignore the bullshit spilling from her lips.

she feels up your stomach and places each hand on your boobs, kneading them eagerly and breathing hard on your neck. you bite your lip to prevent any noise from escaping your mouth. you knew it was wrong, you knew it was dirty, but you knew it felt too good to wanna stop.

"c'mon princess, let it out for me," yunjin would whisper against your skin, her thumbs circling your hard nipples.

your hands clutch her bare shoulders as you feel her smile against your jaw. you struggle hard to hold back a whine as she pushes you into the door using her warm body.

"I have nothing to let out for you," lying again.

"I guess I just have to tear it out from you then," the guitarist says before taking her hands out from under your sweatshirt and grabbing you by the thighs, lifting you up and carrying you to her room.

your body falls against the plush mattress and you watch as the woman slings her guitar off her shoulders, crawling on the bed towards you.

"you may be able to resist how good it feels now, but not after I have my way with you... I won't be the one making so much noise after all."

oh and she truly kept her word.

yunjin's right hand fingers were plunged deep inside your pussy, thrusting in and out at unfathomable speed, while her left hand fingers were in your mouth, shoving them down your throat and making you gag.

your shorts and panties were somewhere lost in her room and if your vision wasn't blurred with tears, you swear your clothes hang from one of the guitars she had displayed on the wall. you sat with your legs wide open on jen's lap, your back against the headboard for stability, tongue sticking out so her fingers can reach deeper into your mouth.

all you could make out were the choking noises coming from your throat and muffled moaning conjoined with it. your cunt was on fire due to the pace at which her digits were ramming into you. your eyes were rolled back and your thighs trembled.

"you sick fuck, you're really enjoying this you know? I know you are, I know you love how rough I'm treating you. who would've known some lowly nerd like you would be into such freaky shit."

she'd pull the fingers in your throat out which caused you to release a deep groan, but return her hand to your neck, squeezing and pinning you against the headboard.

"m-mommy..." you'd desperately whimper out.

a sick chuckle leaves her throat hearing you call her the title she mentioned earlier.

"you may be a whore but you're good at following directions, aren't you princess?" she sinisterly smiles at your fucked out expression, pulling her fingers all the way out to slam them in again, using four digits to plunge into your gushing cunt.

your vision blurs completely as you feel your high coming quick. your back arches off of the wall and your body melts into yunjin's hold.

"cumming already? so sensitive, I don't wanna end it yet," she immediately retracts her hand from your pulsing core.

you whine desperately at the loss of contact and jennifer's grip on your neck tightens.

"listen here little slut, I barely even started. you're going to hold out until I have my way with you, got it?"

let's just say you're not the neighbor making the noise complaints in the next few hours (days? weeks? yunjin realllyyyy liked you).

a/n - guitarists' finger dexterity is no joke (I play guitar so someone plsss hmu :.) aka huh yunjin hit my line im begging you)

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hello, I am about a month out of ankle surgery, no cast, no boot, I can proceed with normal activities but sometimes my ankle just throbs with pain. May I request Logan helping a reader with day to day activities that they can’t do the same anymore and helping them with their pain? Like reader is stubborn and upset they can’t do things quite normally yet, they have to work their way to that point and have to be kind to their body.

I hope you get better soon and I hope this can help, I think we all need a wolverine to look after us.

The mission had been straightforward, at least on paper—get in, retrieve the intel, and get out. But things never went quite as planned, especially not with Logan. He was the kind of man who expected the unexpected, and he always came out on top. You, on the other hand, were still learning that sometimes things went sideways, no matter how careful you were.

The night had been long, the tension between you and Logan thick as you navigated through the enemy base. Everything had gone smoothly until it hadn’t. The explosion caught both of you off guard—a misstep, a trip wire you didn’t see in time. The blast sent you flying, and you landed hard, the impact shooting pain up your leg. Logan was on you in seconds, his enhanced senses already picking up the injury before you could even register it fully.

“Damn it, stay down,” Logan growled, his voice rough as he knelt beside you. He took in the sight of your twisted ankle, the way it was already swelling. “You’ve broken your ankle.”

You bit back a groan, trying to push yourself up, but the pain was overwhelming, making your vision swim. “I’m fine,” you lied, stubborn as ever. “We need to keep moving.”

Logan’s grip on your shoulder tightened, forcing you to stay down. “You’re not goin’ anywhere on that ankle. We need to get you outta here, now.”

You wanted to argue, to insist that you could still make it through the mission, but the pain in your ankle was making it hard to think, let alone move. And Logan’s expression left no room for debate. He was in full protective mode, and there was no way you were getting past him.

Reluctantly, you nodded, letting Logan take charge. He scooped you up into his arms without a word, cradling you against his chest as he made his way out of the enemy base. You hated feeling like dead weight, hated that you couldn’t do anything but hold on as Logan carried you to safety. But there was no denying that the pain in your ankle was unbearable, and every movement sent sharp jolts of agony up your leg.

By the time you made it back to the Blackbird, the pain had dulled to a throbbing ache, but it was clear that your ankle was in bad shape. Logan had already radioed ahead to the mansion, and as soon as you landed, you were whisked away to the med bay.

The next few hours were a blur of painkillers and X-rays, the doctor’s voice a steady drone as he explained the extent of your injury. A clean break, but it would require surgery to set the bone properly. You tried to focus, but all you could think about was how useless you felt, how you’d failed the mission and now you were laid up with a broken ankle.

The surgery went smoothly, or so they told you. When you finally woke up, your leg was wrapped in a cast, your ankle immobilized to give the bone time to heal. The doctor gave you a rundown of the recovery process, but all you heard was how long it would be before you could get back to work—weeks, maybe months before you were back to full strength.

The first few days were rough. You were stubborn, refusing to admit how much pain you were in, but Logan saw right through you. He was always there, a silent, gruff presence that kept you grounded. He helped you with everything—getting out of bed, moving around the mansion, even the simplest tasks like getting dressed. It was frustrating, humiliating even, to need so much help, and your stubbornness only made it worse.

“Stop fightin’ me on this,” Logan said one evening, after he caught you trying to hobble to the kitchen on your own. “You need to rest. You’re only gonna make it worse if you keep pushin’ yourself.”

You glared at him, hating how weak and helpless you felt. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing,” you snapped. “I need to be out there, helping.”

Logan crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “You need to heal. That’s your job right now. You ain’t doin’ anyone any favors by pushin’ yourself before you’re ready.”

His words stung, mostly because you knew he was right. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept. You were used to being strong, to handling whatever was thrown at you. Now, you could barely walk on your own, and it felt like your independence had been ripped away.

Logan seemed to sense the turmoil you were going through, because he softened, his voice losing some of its usual gruffness. “I get it. Bein’ laid up like this sucks. But you’re only gonna get better if you take care of yourself.”

You looked away, the frustration bubbling up again. “I just… I hate feeling like this. Like I can’t do anything.”

Logan sighed, stepping closer. “You’re not gonna be like this forever. But you gotta give your body time to heal. And that means takin’ it easy, even when it pisses you off.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. He was right, of course, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Still, you knew you had to be kinder to yourself, to your body. Pushing through the pain wasn’t going to help you heal any faster.

“I’m trying,” you said finally, your voice small. “It’s just… hard.”

Logan nodded, his expression softening even more. “I know it is. But you’re tough. You’ll get through this.”

His words were a comfort, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this. Logan was there, and he wasn’t going to let you push yourself too hard. It was a small reassurance, but it made all the difference.

The days passed slowly, each one a test of your patience. Logan was always there, whether you wanted him to be or not, helping you with the things you couldn’t do on your own. He was patient, more patient than you expected, and he never once made you feel like a burden.

One evening, after another frustrating attempt to do something on your own, you finally broke down. The pain, the frustration, the sense of helplessness—it all came crashing down, and you found yourself in tears, sitting on the edge of your bed with your casted leg stretched out in front of you.

Logan was there in an instant, kneeling in front of you with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he murmured, his rough voice soothing. “You’re doin’ fine. You’re gonna get through this.”

You shook your head, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I just… I hate this, Logan. I hate not being able to do anything.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “You’re doin’ more than you think. You’re lettin’ yourself heal. That’s the most important thing right now.”

His words broke through the frustration, and you nodded, squeezing his hand. “I just feel so… useless.”

Logan shook his head, his grip on your hand firm but comforting. “You’re not useless. You’re strong. Stronger than you know. You just need to give yourself time.”

You took a shaky breath, the tears slowly subsiding as you leaned into his touch. “I’m trying,” you said again, this time with a little more conviction.

Logan gave you a small, encouraging smile. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”

The days turned into weeks, and slowly, you started to see progress. The pain became more manageable, the swelling in your ankle reduced, and with Logan’s help, you began to regain some of your independence. It wasn’t easy—there were days when the frustration still got the better of you, but Logan was always there, a steady presence that kept you grounded.

As your strength returned, so did your confidence. The exercises the doctor had given you started to pay off, and soon you were able to move around more easily, even if you still needed crutches. Logan was there every step of the way, helping you when you needed it, but also giving you the space to do things on your own when you were ready.

One evening, as you sat together in the mansion’s living room, you looked over at Logan, feeling a swell of gratitude for everything he’d done for you. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice sincere. “For everything.”

Logan glanced at you, his expression softening. “Ain’t no need to thank me. I was just doin’ what needed to be done.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the fireplace crackling nearby. “Still, I appreciate it. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

Logan’s eyes softened, and he gave you a small nod. “You’re stronger than you think, kid. But I’m glad I could help.”

You leaned back against the couch, feeling a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time. The road to recovery was still ahead, but with Logan by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way.

And for the first time since the injury, you truly believed that you’d come out the other side stronger, not just in body, but in spirit too.

[in1-nutshell]

Rodimus Prime dating buddy who is taller than him but is pretty shy and quiet? Basically like a precious cinnamon roll.

Also Rodimus is the little spoon when it comes to hugging

OH, and Rodimus always gets flustered when Buddy compliments him because it’s always sweet.

Oooh! Rodimus with another Tall Bot! Tried to mix things up a bit so no one gets confused.

Hope you enjoy!

Rodimus dating Tall Bot Buddy who's shy

SFW, Platonic, Romantic, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

Rodimus, being the ship’s captain, wanted to get to know some of his crew. Sure, he knew that some of the crew members were here for a short time, but there was never any harm in getting to know one another. His optics found their way to Buddy a few times during his ‘Til all are One’ speeches.

It wasn’t hard to find them either.

Buddy being one of the tallest bots on the ship stood out like a sore thumb amongst their smaller friends.

“Hey, Mags!”--Rodimus

“Don’t call me that.”--Magnus

“So, who’s the tall bot over by Cyclonus?”--Rodimus

“That’s Buddy. They are one of the better bots on the ship. I’ve had the pleasure of working with them. They know how to get their reports done on time.”--Magnus

“Ignoring the side remark there, I bet they were a powerhouse during the war.”--Rodimus

“Actually, Buddy didn’t see too much of the war. They ended up being a bodyguard for several labs on off world outposts. They like quiet things Rodimus, something you should learn a little bit of.”--Magnus

“…I’m going to introduce myself.”--Rodimus

“…If you scare them off I will demolish you.”—Magnus

Rodimus made it his personal mission to know who this bot was.

It was a bit of a rough start with Rodimus literally summersaulting over to meet them. Which caused Buddy to involuntarily kick him in the chassis to the other end of the room.

Now, that same bot who had kicked him across the room and carried him to the med bay while apologizing profusely was on the floor of his habsuite picking the movie for date night.

“Okay Roddy, I’m at a tie. It’s either ‘Speed’ or ‘Grease’. I can’t pick which one to watch tonight.”--Buddy

“Hmmm…”--Rodimus

“Roddy? Hello, Lost Light to Rodimus, anyone in there?”--Buddy

“How did I get so lucky?”--Rodimus

“Well, I did get the deals for earth movies from that vender last stop--”--Buddy

“No, how did I get so lucky to have you as my lovely partner.”--Rodimus

“O-oh!”--Buddy

“Look at you! You’re adorable! You’re adorable looking face!”--Rodimus

“Roddy!”--Buddy

“Yes?”--Rodimus

“The movie? Please?”--Buddy

“Oh, ‘Grease’.”--Rodimus

“Thank—”--Buddy

“So I can slide over there and give you a hug and kiss your adorable face!”--Rodimus

“RODDY!”--Buddy

How did he get so lucky?

To have such a kind, sweet, caring, and absolute powerhouse of a bot to call his partner.

Maybe… Conjux?

No… not yet…

Rodimus has a bad habit of speaking for Buddy, since they were so quiet all the time. Buddy didn’t mind it at first, but it soon got annoying when they came to more personal things. They had a talk with him about him speaking for them.

Now Rodimus catches himself before he speaks, for the most part. But he is learning.

Rodimus loves to get Buddy flustered up, does not care if its in public or in private. Not that it would take much anyways.

“Hey Buddy, are you a camera?”--Rodimus

“Rodimus not now.”--Buddy

“Because every time I look at you I smile.”--Rodimus

“Rodimus—”--Buddy

“Are you a parking ticket?”--Rodimus

“Roddy, no—”--Buddy

“ ’Cause you got FINE written all over you.”--Rodimus

“… Rodimus we are in a meeting—”--Magnus

“Shh! I wanna see how this ends.”--Whirl

Magnus has written several memos about PDA to Rodimus.

Does he read them? Nope.

Buddy felt a little bad for Magnus and decided to take things into their own servos.

The next time Rodimus started up his one-liners, Buddy surprised their flusterness and shot back their own attacks.

“If I could breathe, you’d take my breath away every time.”--Rodimus

“Well, can I borrow your star map? Because I lost my way looking at your optics.”--Buddy

“Huh?!”--Rodimus

“Do you by any chance have an extra spark on you… you seemed to have stolen mine.”--Buddy

“…”--Rodimus

“Rod—”--Buddy

FWWOOOOOSSSHHHH!

“OH, SWEET PRIMUS HE’S FLAMING UP AGAIN! CYCLONUS! TAILGATE PASS ME THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!”--Buddy

Rodimus exe has stopped working please try again later.

Buddy has to carry Rodimus to their shared habsuite. Speaking of habsuite, that is the place where Rodimus loves to be with Buddy the most. Mainly because Buddy becomes a bit more affectionate in private than in public.

Rodimus loves being the little spoon.

There are times that he’ll try and be the big spoon, but he always goes back to being the little spoon.

“Its going to happen tonight, Buddy! I can feel it!”--Rodimus

“And if it doesn’t?”--Buddy

“Then… you get to pick next date nights activities.”--Rodimus

“Deal.”--Rodimus

Next morning…

“Morning—oh c’mon!”--Rodimus

“Ahh… the sweet sounds of victory.”--Buddy

“I’ll do it next time.”--Rodimus

“Sure Roddy, sure.”--Buddy

[mango-writes-savvy]

Gentle Jake Seresin

Prompt from @dumplingsjinson and this post. Hope you enjoy <3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x f!reader

While in California you had seen a lot of Top Gun candidates come through, but none stuck out as much as Jake Seresin. Jake was cocky, but at least he could back it up- most times

While he and his team were on a mission, you were stationed on the same aircraft carrier as a medic. You were always hopeful to not see the soldiers in your wing, but enjoyed spending time with Jake. He was rough around the edges but he was kind to you. He always lit up when he saw it was you who would be taking care of him.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite medic! How you doin’ Chaos?” he smiled as he strutted into the med bay.

“Hi, Hangman, what can I do for you today?” you responded while filling out paperwork and checking the schedule to see if there was something ordered by the higher-ups. 

“I can’t just say hi?”

“Well, normally you want something so, what do you need? I have a lot of work to get done before y’all leave tonight,” you responded after not finding anything in the computer. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, Phoenix asked me to swing by and see if you had any more of that tape. She said it didn’t hurt to take off like the stuff they gave her on land.”

You nodded, “Yeah, definitely,” you started walking towards the cabinet it was in then paused, “Jake. This is the third time you’ve been in here today, are you sure there isn’t anything else I can grab or do for you?” You turned and looked at him carefully. 

“Wanna go on a date? With me. When we get back to Miramar,” he leaned against the wall across from you casually, but you could tell he was nervous with how he was trying to keep his hands busy. 

You smiled as your cheeks heated from the blood rush. You grabbed a few rolls of tape from the cabinet and walked back towards him. “When you get back tonight, I’ll let you know where to pick me up.”

He grinned as he walked towards the doorway, he spun around to face you and said,” See you when I get back, Chaos,” and gave you one of his signature winks. 

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and shooed him off while you got ready for their mission tonight just in case anything went south- getting out extra bandages, pain relief and suture kits. 

Jake and his team were flying out an hour before supper and were scheduled to be back by midnight. 

It was getting close to midnight and you were starting to get bored waiting in the mess hall, so you decided to start on inventory in the med bay. While walking down the hall, your mind started to wander, wondering where Jake would take you on this date. 

You felt a smack then a sharp pain in your head. 

“Ow! What the fuck!” You brought your hand to your forehead and when you pulled it away there was blood. While you were daydreaming you missed the shorter doorway and ran head-first into it. “This is why you’re a medic,” you muttered to yourself as you ducked under the doorway and made it to the medic bay. 

You managed to get the bleeding stopped and started putting butterfly bandages on the cut with the mirror hanging on the wall. 

“Hey- what happened?” Jake rushed over to you and turned your head so he could get a better look at the cut. 

“Hey, how did it go? And I’m fine, just bumped my head into a doorframe,” You waved him off and finished putting on the bandages and cleaning up the area. 

“I can’t leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can I?” Jake followed after you, never being far from your side. 

“I mean, I’m fine so it’s fine—“ 

“No it’s not okay! Not when I feel like I’m going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking you’ve hurt yourself.”

“Jake, I promise, I’m okay,” You grabbed his hands to help him calm down by rubbing your thumbs across the back of his hands, “I love that you care about me, but one doorframe isn’t going to take me out.”

He sighed and kissed your forehead gently. "Fine, but I'm still gonna worry about you."

[honeyjars-sims]

3.36 Left the Building

Later that night, I remember what Lexie said about not letting any opportunities to get away from me and decide I should try to find a way to get Lacey alone.

I just can't find the right moment. It seems like one of us is always heading off into our tent for a nap or busy eating or caught up in conversation with someone else.

It doesn't help that Lexie keeps looking at me expectantly. It feels like everyone else is waiting for me to make my move and having all eyes on me just adds to the pressure.

At one point we're all gathered around the campfire when Lacey starts asking Paul about school.

"Are you planning on staying at Foxbury for med school?" she inquires.

"No, actually I was accepted into Sequoia State," he explains. "I'm going to take my last few courses at Foxbury over the summer, then I'm moving here in the fall."

"Oh, that's cool! I guess we'll be seeing you around more then."

I feel my stomach drop a bit and decide I should intervene before Lacey and Paul start making plans together. Lacey starts coughing and I seize the opportunity.

"I could use some fresh air," I break in. "Sounds like you could, too, Lacey."

"Yeah, that would be nice," she replies, and we walk away from the others.

"I hope you don't mind that I singled you out, but I thought you could use a break from the smoke," I tell her.

"Oh, no, that's fine," she responds. "Actually, I was hoping we would get the chance to be alone."

"You were?"

"Don't act so surprised," she says, a smile spreading across her face. "I thought it was obvious I was into you."

"Well, I guess I wasn't sure. Actually, I thought you might be interested in Paul."

She wrinkles her nose. "Paul? He's nice and all, but he's not really my type. He can be kind of a dork sometimes."

"He's not that bad," I say before realizing I'm defending the guy I've been insecure about. "Anyway, what is your type?"

"Well, I like a guy who can make me laugh. Someone who's comfortable being himself and goes for what he wants."

This would be the perfect moment for me to ask her out or kiss her or something, but none of that happens. Instead we're interrupted by the ungodly sound of someone retching their guts out behind us.

We turn to see Lucy hunched over and violently expelling the contents of her stomach onto the ground. Any chance of a romantic moment happening tonight is effectively ruined.

We walk back towards the others, who are gathered around Lucy in concern.

"Are you okay?" Paul asks her. He runs down a list a symptoms but Lucy denies that anything's wrong.

"I'm fine, really," she insists, like she hadn't just recreated a scene from The Exorcist in the middle of the woods.

"Oh, so you expelled the demon, then?" I ask.

"Yes, Pazuzu has left the building."

In the morning we start packing up and prepare to leave.

"So did you do it?" Lexie asks, referring to me asking Lacey on a date.

"No. I was about to, but then Lucy...you know. Kinda ruined the moment."

Lexie laughs. "Yeah, that would do it."

"But look, I need you to lay off a bit about Lacey," I say, kindly but firmly. "I know you mean well, but it's a lot of pressure."

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I know I'm being overzealous. I just want you to be happy."

"And I will be. I am. I had a rough few months, but I'm in a really good place right now."

"That's great! I guess I just felt guilty about everything. I hate that I hurt you."

"I know. But I don't even think about that much anymore. I mostly think about how much you cared about and supported me. Maybe your feelings for me weren't romantic, but they were still real."

"They were, and still are. You're like the brother I never had, and I miss you like crazy." She's starting to tear up, and I know now that whatever negative feelings I had about our breakup are gone. They left the building with Pazuzu.

"I miss you, too. I don't like not having you in my life." I wrap my arms around her. It feels nice having her in my arms again, but it's not a romantic feeling. It's more like the comfort of an old friend.

"I really do love you, Johnny."

"I love you, too, Lexie."

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[scaly-freaks]

inmate 13453

okay don't get excited, i just felt like writing a bit of a drabble to feel out the atmosphere of a potential start to this au (clicking the tag will give up the other stuff i've posted for it btw)

btw check out the playlist and the pinterest board made by @theageofsilver and @allicentsallure bc they're fab

cw: kidnapping

Soft seventeen.

Bambi eyes, bambi legs.

There’s a certain edge to the way people describe the age she’s at. Not quite eighteen, not quite legal, tangible as cherry juice on greedy fingers. She isn’t sixteen, sweet and tender. It’s a soft first step into adulthood, skirting the border, the in between, the unknowable horrors that lie ahead.

She fucking hates being seventeen.

It’s a shit number first of all. Odd numbers make her want to spew. They feel like nails on a chalkboard, polyester static on leg hair. She can’t even dance, so whatever ABBA are singing about doesn’t apply.

Amara sticks out her tongue and tastes the air as the breeze blows west. She swears she can get a sense of the world when she does.

Her stepfather mocks her for it. That blue-eyed, blonde maniac with the ugly Buick Electra he treats like a brand-name Italian from the southern coasts of Europe. He used to treat her mother the same. Until he began to tell Amara you look just like her when she was young. He leaves his porn tabs open on his computer, as if he wants her to know. ‘Teen’, ‘Latina’, ‘Stepfather’, ‘Rough’, ‘Face-fucking’, ‘Breeding.’

She doesn’t have a drop of Hispanic blood in her.

She really wants to tell her mother, but there is a chance her mother will look right through her instead. She’s been doing that a lot more nowadays. They can’t afford her meds anymore. She just sits on the porch and watches and waits. For what, is anyone's guess.

>> can you pick me up?

>> its dark

>> pls

>> sorry ik its inconvienant

'Step-Daddy' always replies quickly when it’s her. He has a heart next to her name on his phone. She never agreed to that.

>> it’s spelled inconvenient

“Suck my dick,” Amara tells the screen and switches her phone off before he can message again.

She can walk.

The route back runs dangerously close to the edge of the forest. All kinds rot away in there, but she doesn’t like to think of them by name. They’ll become real if she does. She wishes her mother had found a man who lived in the wetlands, and not here at the cursed border between life and the realm beyond. Marshes are easier to understand. Forests are cursed.

Still, life is horribly simple here. Her high school is placid and filled with the dull-eyed children of dull-eyed adults. The gas station where she works didn’t bother to interview her. She walked in and the guy behind the counter stared at her breasts until he remembered she had a face. Her breasts aced the interview for her.

Can I work here? Just until I graduate.

Sure, grab a nametag.

Four months later, and she doesn’t mind it anymore. Her brain shuts off. Her customers are a ragtag mixture of suspicious, ferret-eyed locals and the occasionally buoyant hiker from out of state. If she doesn’t look like she belongs, she’s pretty, and that usually gives people like her a pass. At least until the sleazy comments become ethnically charged. But even then, Amara has a way of making her eyes go ‘dopey’ and just smiling like she’s too slow to understand. Displaying discomfort is what eggs them on (kind of a nasty realisation she opened her eyes to one day).

An engine growls some way down the road.

Old Chevy pickup, faded gold.

She recognises it from the parking lot at the station near the end of her shift.

A guy stepped out, young, early twenties, with a shock of hair that looked white until she realised it was just really, really blonde. She remembers thinking it was odd. The range of blondes in town runs from deep and dirty to the artificial bleach rattled out of holographic boxes of dye. No one has hair like his. She’d have noticed.

His eyebrows were a little darker, and his lashes were darker still. He had a funny way of walking, and he looked at her like she had the head of a fish and the body of a human being. Amara did her best dopey eyes. She asked him if he’d had a good day, pointed out the offers they had on pork rinds. He didn’t say a word. His skin had smears of black grease, glistening with sweat and bronzed by the sun.

Deep blue eyes.

Horribly deep.

Not the kind you’d want to swim in. She likes a softer blue, blue like chlorine, reminiscent of the safety of swimming pools. His were anything but.

She picks up her speed, and for some reason, puts her phone to her ear as if mid-conversation. Nothing about him said he was dangerous at the time. At least not from the way he’d barely said a word or looked down at her body. He was just there, and then he was gone.

And now here he is again.

The Chevy hits the horn. He is creeping closer. Amara turns and waves at him to go on. She doesn’t want a ride. Why isn’t he rolling down the window to offer one though?

It slows to a crawl. Her throat closes up. She has a feeling speeding up will give him what he wants. He’s obviously trying to be a prick. But if she goes back to talk to him, that would be exponentially worse. She switches her phone back on and sees her stepfather’s message telling her to get back home herself after she didn’t reply to tell him her location.

She quickly shoots him a message, and prays he’ll respond.

He doesn’t.

Fuck it.

She walks faster. The Chevy matches the increase. Sweat blooms on the back of her neck.

Every woman has that oh fuck moment. That I’m going to be on the evening news moment. The please god if he catches me let him kill me before he gets to raping me moment.

None of that goes through her head. She keeps thinking of her mother’s cooking. Her mother hasn’t cooked in a year and a half, not since her mind began to slip. But Amara can taste the spices on her tongue, the way the rice was perfectly simmered, the cinnamon in the back of her throat, the smell that clung to the walls, the heat of it.

I wanna come home, Momma.

Her mother’s face gathers into shape in her head, built with sand particles and saltwater. When the Chevy roars, she starts running. Her mother vanishes.

The lights of the truck blink across the tarmac. It’s a signal. But it isn’t for her.

She looks over her shoulder, and she can’t see him.

Run me over. Leave me like carrion on the road. Let the maggots eat me. Don’t cut me up first.

He slows when she starts to tire out. Picks up when she tries again. No other car has graced this road since she first turned onto it. A sign points her to the right, ushering her deeper into the backwoods. The town is to the left.

He figures out where she’s going when she suddenly makes a dash for the bend in the road.

There’s no time to dodge the pickup when it goes for her this time. The wheels skid as he yanks it at an angle and blocks her way. The door flies open and misses her by an inch. His arm grabs for her. She dodges, animal fear and rust on her tongue. He still doesn’t say a word.

A heavy fist connects with the small of her back and she drops like a stone.

The pain is electric. Air turns her lungs into taut balloons, but she can’t make a sound. She twists around and the bruise forming over her spine grates. Adrenaline quickly numbs it as she lashes out with her arms and legs. Kicking, punching, scratching, biting. Her teeth hit home. A mouthful of tattooed flesh, car oil and sweat. Still no sound from him.

She never sees the fist coming, just like last time.

A blow to the head and lights out, nancy.

[luvyurself]

hate you

for @fishsticksloser dity :D I went a little overboard with it but I hope you like it <3

story chosen: there for my final breath

c/w: she/her pronouns, major character death, bad future timeline, babies first angst story, donnie battles with emotions, he’s coping hardcore, kind of rushed (aka I just saw their post about it and got to writing LMAOO)

to set the vibe listen to this teehee:

———

what was a “successful mission” anymore?

was it really successful when a person you loved was killed in battle?

was it really successful when you wake up screaming from nightmares retelling the events of that day? the universe mocking you in its sick and twisted way, in a way that said, “this is your reality, your world.”

“this is your future.”

death was a concept he had to get used to, as unfortunate as it was, it quickly became a common thing he would have to face when the krang invaded new york city.

from when he was a teen, donnie would swear up and down that he emotions were a wast of time, it being the only thing that he genuinely didn’t get. why do we feel random things that change sporadically with no rhyme or reason? a concept so foreign, yet can be so….how to say….comforting.

like that giddy feeling when he completed an invention, the heart pounding in his chest when he rambled on and on to his brothers about a topic for an hour.

the heart melting and wavy smile he would get when she would kiss his cheek every morning.

she was practically his ray of sunshine in the hellscape of the world he came to know. when he would be planning new inventions to take down the krang, she would be massaging his shoulders with her slightly rough hands, a faint reminder of the change she went through.

they would be in the battle field, back to back as they fight against the enemy, then together in the med bay with stupid smiles on their faces as they sloppily put bandaids on their injuries.

she was there to hold him when raph died, humming a soft song as he silently cried into her shoulder, his hand gripping hers in a tight grip. a silent way he expressed it without sobbing out loud. he never cried out loud, her never sobbed so hard until he physically couldn’t cry anymore.

donnie liked it like that.

no matter how unhealthy it was to bottle up the need to let out his emotions, it was always how he moved on, how he could move on.

but not anymore.

not even now.

it wasn’t supposed to happen, he had it all mapped out. even with her on the mission without him, he had eyes on her from inside his lab. the hologram figure of her stared at him as he banged his fist on the table.

“damn it…” he grumbled, rubbing his face in frustration. her voice spoke up, a little bit out of breath, “what? what happened?”

his eyes turned to her, a sharp breath escaping his nose, “there’s practically no way to destroy the place, we can’t do nothing.” he looked over disarray sketches of the technodrome, gritting his teeth in anger, “there’s no way of shutting it down without one of those freaks catching you, I’m calling it off.”

tapping on his arm band to send the information to leo, he heard her soft breathing as she spoke up once more. “what about that?”

he looked up once more, seeing where she was located at. he takes a sharp intake of air once he realizes what it was. “the core! ha! of course the kraang have a core on their ship, that will knock them down a leg greatly!”

he turned his back away from the hologram, “once you come back, we can discuss what we found with the others, that way we can be more prepared.”

��donnie.”

“this will help us gain some sort of advantage with that ship gone.”

“don-“

“have I ever tell you about that keen eye, my love? oh I can practically kiss you through the-“

“DONATELLO!” he nearly flinched at his full name, turning back around to face her, a confused look on his face. “what? you can’t blame me for being excited!”

she was quiet for a moment, clearing her voice to speak. “we can’t wait until another time.” her voice was quieter then usual, her eyes staring down at the floor.

an uneasy feeling began to settle in his stomach, “what do you mean? we don’t have any available resources right now, we can try again tomorrow-“

“tomorrow isn’t promised, donnie.” she said, looking back at the core, and back at him. “we have an opportunity right now, we have to take it.”

he’s quiet for a moment, before he finally got what she was implying. “no. you’re not doing anything.” his voice was serious, brown furrowed as he pointed at her hologram form.

“you will come back right now. that’s an order, that you will follow.” he couldn’t help his heart racing, the horrible feeling coming over him as she gave him a small smile.

she was always stubborn. selfless. an emotion he never understood from her.

“I am forever grateful that I met you in this life, donatello.” she whispered, her hand slipping the communicator off her wrist, “I love you, so much.”

he felt the world fall silent, watching as she muted and dropped the communicator on the floor. his screams falling on deaf ears as he saw her run to the core of the technodrome.

his chest was hurting, his heart was pounding as he quickly grabbed his battle shell. he hated it. he hated it so much. he wanted it to stop.

he transfer the call with her to his wrist tech, at the same time calling for any available assistance on the front lines to stop her.

“I need all available support to the technodrome’s core room, I repeat-“ he quickly flew to where the technodrome is located.

“I need all available support to the-“

BOOM

he’s quickly knocked down from the sky, landing on the ground as he felt the air knocked out of him. he takes a moment to recover before he looked up at the sky, his breath stopping for a moment.

it’s all gone. the technodrome. she had done it. she had destroyed the whole thing. he looked down at his tech, hearing nothing but static from her end.

then he feels nothing. the sounds of the troops unknowingly celebrating become white noise to him as he felt the unwelcome feeling return.

the tears were silent, teeth gritting as his hands dug into his palms. he felt a hand on his shoulder, and jerked violently away from the touch.

“don?” the voice of leo asked quietly, staring at his face. he looked down at his wrist tech, before speaking up once more, “where’s…what happened?”

donnie couldn’t speak. he couldn’t breathe. he couldn’t do anything.

the only thing that came from his lips was a strangled sob. his hand slapping over his lips as he sobbed violently into his hands.

leo held onto him, not saying anything.

and once more, he was stuck with the feeling that he hated. but this time it was worse. way worse.

he wanted to hate her, he wanted to scold her for making him feel this way. she knew he hated to feel this, but yet, she caused him to feel that and more.

it might hurt less, to hate her for what she did.

but he still loved her for everything she ever did.

and he hated to love her for that.