#i lied this is not a one liner

[braceletofteeth]

Krub (affectionate)

[luckycheesefoodie321]

Why is Brook such a baddie???

“What kind of fool regards his own death as part of a plan, young lady?” ICE COLD.

It started in Punk Hazard but Brook has really come up in ranks as one of my favourite Straw Hats.

But also this is the most his words have been old man-coded. Calling Luffy and Sanji “two young men who will decide what is for the best” and daring to call Big Mom an ojou-san (young lady) is really rock metal if you, Soul King.

His voice just has an exponentially appealing gravitas to it. And they keep giving him the epic speeches.

“Is getting a copy of the Road Ponegliff more important than rescuing Sanji?”

“Yes. Sanji is a really kind man. I don’t know what kind of trap you’ve laid for him, but because he’s so kind, I knew there was a chance he would never come back. But if worst comes to worst and Sanji doesn’t return, I don’t want him to blame himself. I will not let him think this rescue mission didn’t get results!”

Just so *chefs kiss*.

[spidrboots]

❝ so, val. whaddya think ? as if i even have’ta ask. ❞ he twirls expertly, the long, deep purple chiffon dress dancing around his ankles. with a slit all the way up his leg, practically to his hip, & a low cut chest with an even lower back, angel had saved up for ages to snag it. elegant, but sexy. everyone should be happy.

❝ not bad. right ? velvette ain’t the only one wit’ an eye for fashion. ❞

/ @veelentino liked.

[usagimen]

          With careful preparation each chord is gently plucked, she watches all of them intermix, entwine together. From the sway of perfumed silk to laughter drunk off berry wine, it's redundant, nothing more than to gain political status. The clanking of goblets that splash, she moves to keep herself out of the rancor, the bardess who has no intrigue except for creating an exquisite song that would haunt all. Humanely in her persona, she moves with trepidation, bowing pleasantly in monochromatic colors as the crowd. "Everyone who is anyone seems to be here" then she pauses, in an ethereal form the hellfire is unseen in her gaze, still it remains sharp in caustic emerald. "Including you, a connoisseur of the arts I presume?" 

// @fatewoven (Gortash // s.c.)

[partghoul]

          "     i don't know if i will ever be myself again.  i don't know if i've got any  'self'  left over.     "

               FOR  XENOWAKEMICAH  @solarisgod [ ... ]

[daohuai]

[ : / /　𝙵 𝙸 𝙻 𝙴 ]　 : @shefabled

　　𝚂 𝙴 𝙰 𝚁 𝙲 𝙷 𝙸 𝙽 𝙶 。。。　　　　　❝             i do not want my hair tied up . ❞ pernicious as ever , allowing her to play with his tresses , groom him , but scowling at the introduction of any hair - piece . cutting his own bangs has kept his vision clear enough .

[liraspins]

"Ugh...why can't we just stay on your couch and smoke all day?"

[forgaeven1]

they're stopping somewhere, and it's her turn to keep watch.

which anna'll do greatly. happily, even. she'd never admit it to anyone, but sometimes it- it hurts, just lying down next to her daughter. not because... of the usual reasons, no. she'd never gotten that. post-partum. either the short-term, or the long-term effects of it. she'd always known it was dangerous, though. marlene had warned her, a long time ago, that it could be a dangerous. having a baby in the middle of an apocalypse ? you gotta' be freaking insane. but she never... ellie was always her perfect girl. ever since she let out that first cry; ever since she was cradled inside her arms.

anna wouldn't dare point one fault towards her.

but — my god. that still didn't mean there weren’t many mistakes made in between the birth and the now. so many mistakes she wished she'd never been clumsy enough to produce, so many more she knew she had to - if it means it'll get her perfect little girl to stay alive. if it means ellie could be sheltered, could have clothes, could never know what it's like to stay in a cramped up old room, cold to the bone while her mom begged for electricity or clean water or- or something. there's always something. sometimes it hurts looking at her because anna knew she was never enough. she could never be enough.

so she volunteers.

she tends to the fire, she shivers as the dark blue of the night slowly creeps its way into the morning light. what she didn't expect was to hear rustling in the middle of the distant rush of the river and jostling of the tree. she turns, and, almost automatically, anna williams' face softens at the sight of her baby girl. when did she grew so quickly, she asks herself almost nostalgically, though she never says it aloud. anna knows when ellie grew; it's when she wasn't around to see it.

❛ hey, come on. no. you've still got a few hours to get some shut-eye. ❜

@infectd — starter call

[luna-azzurra]

Betrayal Liners

"After everything, how could you turn your back on me like this?"

"You've made a fool of me for the last time."

"It turns out the villain in my story was my closest friend."

"You wore your lies like a second skin; I just never saw it until now."

"This betrayal cuts deeper than any knife ever could."

"You were the one person I never thought I'd have to guard my heart from."

"I guess every smile you gave me was just a prelude to this stab in the back."

"How long have you been pretending? How long have I been blind?"

"You didn't just break my trust; you shattered my whole world."

"The mask has finally fallen, and I see you for what you truly are."

"I thought we were in this together, but you were just using me."

"You threw away everything we had for a fleeting moment of gain."

"I'll never understand how you could betray me when I only ever had your back."

"Your betrayal is a poison I drank willingly, blinded by love."

"I was just another step on your path to power, wasn't I?"

[pucksandpower]

Made with Love

Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader

Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible

You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.

This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.

Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”

He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.

To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.

“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.

“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.

Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.

You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”

Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”

The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.

You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”

Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”

You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.

You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.

Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.

Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.

Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”

You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.

When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.

“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”

Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.

As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.

You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.

He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.

You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.

Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.

Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.

He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”

You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”

Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”

You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.

After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”

The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.

From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.

The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.

***

You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.

“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.

“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”

Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”

You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.

“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.

After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”

You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”

Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”

This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.

You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”

The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.

“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.

An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”

You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.

After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”

You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”

Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.

When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!

After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.

“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.

“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”

Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”

You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”

Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”

***

“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.

Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”

Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”

Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”

Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”

You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”

Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.

The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.

Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.

Max looks at him expectantly.

“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”

His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”

Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”

“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”

The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.

You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”

He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.

“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.

“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”

Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.

Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.

You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.

One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.

“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.

Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.

“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”

“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”

Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.

The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.

“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”

Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”

One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.

Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.

You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.

“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.

Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.

“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.

The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.

Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.

He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.

For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.

At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.

He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.

***

It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.

That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.

“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”

You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”

Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”

Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.

One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.

He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.

“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.

You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”

“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”

The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.

“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”

The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.

“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”

For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-

Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”

The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.

He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.

The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.

From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.

Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.

It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.

“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”

Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”

Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”

“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”

It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.

As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.

Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.

The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (i)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.

A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3

Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.

Apparently. 

On God, he cannot fathom why.

He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  

By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  

“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 

“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 

He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.

“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 

Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 

“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”

His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  

“And also you signed the contract.”

Well. Shit. 

Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.

Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 

“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”

The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”

Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

Maya stares at him.

Bucky stares back.

“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”

“No.” 

The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.

“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”

“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”

A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 

“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.

So they stick him in a couple of interviews.

Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.

Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.

He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.

They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.

They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 

The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 

They give him access to his Twitter. 

He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 

“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 

It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 

Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.

He begrudgingly agrees. 

Therefore, it begins. 

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 

Then the jokes really start.

“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 

Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  

He is not put in another video. 

And so he finds himself here. 

In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”

“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”

Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 

“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 

“No.” 

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 

“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”

Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 

“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”

Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 

“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”

While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 

Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

He wordlessly shakes his head. 

Been the former, seen too much of the latter.

Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  

He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”

“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”

“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.

“Other people have seen ghosts.”

“Good for other people.”

The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 

“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.

“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 

“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 

“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.

“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”

“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 

You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 

“No.”

“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  

“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 

“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 

He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 

You were… loud. And open. 

Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”

Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”

Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.

“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”

 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 

“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.

“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”

“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 

“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”

“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 

“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”

“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”

“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.

Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 

“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.

Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 

Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 

He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.

Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 

“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”

“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”

Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?

Yay. 

“One video,” he reiterates.

You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 

“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 

Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”

He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3

Next part

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

I’m cackling at the idea of the bayverse boys going through the “baby’s first swear” moment 

Since the kiddos live in the sewer and all the turtles don’t seem like the type to swear around their kids (maybe Raph if especially angry) they would prolly end up learning it from Vern or Casey. 

Like just imagine any of the guys chilling with their kids, and then their little toddler son/daughter knocks over their juice cup and they just go “Shit” in their lil innocent kid voice with a grumpy pout, meanwhile their dads have snapped a wide eyed stare to them cuz WHERE did you hear that word?!- 

Obvs Leo would probably be the one who hates swearing the most and would be pretty angry in the moment but how would they all handle the aftermath? Like would they implement something sorta like a swear jar system? Would they just give their kids a warning? Interrogate their family to find out who taught their kid to swear?? The chaos that would follow sounds hilarious!

Your Kids’ First Swear Word (Fluff/Crack)

Children Series

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: I am Danish, and in Denmark, cursing is an important part of our culture. No beeping out curse words here! We say the shit fucking proud and fucking loud!🗣🇩🇰 Sure, we tell children that it’s bad, but we don’t care too much. Remember, the Danish versions of TMNT 1987 and 2003 had the turtles cursing. I learned a specific word for retard, because Shredder kept using it on Bebop and Rocksteady😂 But the turtles are American, and that is different, so here you go. Hope you’ll enjoy💚

Warnings: Cursing lol.

Leonardo:

Romeo is 10, Marcello is 7, Gerardo is 4.

The children always loved when uncle Vern, uncle Casey and aunt April came to visit in the lair. Other than their mother and aunts, these were the only human connections the kids had.

Funnily enough, the children took a strong liking to Vern, always hanging around him whenever he came to visit, which was way less than Casey and April. But why did the kids like Vern so much? Maybe it was his strong reaction of confusion and slight annoyance when one of them came running, wanting some sort of attention from him. Especially Marcello, who found that if he tugged enough at Vern, the human would start muttering all sorts of strange words under his breath, almost like he was spitting them in the boy's direction.

The other kids took notice of this as well, especially Gerardo who started taking on his older brother’s habit of bugging Vern whenever he was around, just to hear the strange words that he would mumble. Words that Gerardo found absolutely hilarious, and would save in his memory for a lifetime. Because then he learned what those words meant… or sorta.

Vern, Casey and April was once again visiting the lair, coming to eat dinner with the large underground family. In these cases they all ate together in the living area, at a bunch of tables, all lined out in one liner continuation. It was here, in the middle of conversations and laughter, that Gerardo suddenly perked up out of nowhere, in a way that only made sense for a child his age.

“Uncle Vern taught me a word!”, he said proudly to you and Leo, as he suddenly remembered one of the words Vern had said last time he visited, kicking his feet under the table in excitement.

“And what is that word?”, you asked smiling, eyeing Marcello as he poured up a glass of water for Romeo, no indication in the slightest for what was about to come out of your sons mouth.

“Shitling!”, Gerardo yelled out proudly.

Silence fell over all the adults at the table, all while the children kept talking and yapping. You and Leo made wide eyed eye contact, before slowly turning your attention to Vern, who sat frozen with his fork halfway into his mouth.

Needless to say, but from that day, Vern really had to restrain his vocabulary whenever he was around the kids.

Raphael:

Joan is 11, Minerva is 7, Ragnar is 4.

With your husband’s foul mouth, one would not be blamed for believing that Raph had been living his whole life on a ship out in the big open ocean, instead of in the sewers below New York City. It had long gotten Raph into trouble with his own father, often being the reason he would find himself in the hashish. Yet he never seemed to learn from his punishments.

Even as you and Raph got together, his foul mouth would be going. Never because of you, no no, never you. You could never do anything wrong in Raph’s eyes. No, Raph would curse at pretty much anything else. His brothers annoyed him - curse. He was angry and needed to get his frustrations out with a good work out - curse. He accidentally burned himself when cooking - curse. He watched a game and either something good or something bad happened - curse. Raph was in a good mood, and he wanted to let you know just how happy he was - sweet words with curses for emphasis. In order words, cursing was just a part of Raphael’s natural vocabulary.

But when you and Raph started having children, your husband was forced to keep his colorful words for himself, only letting his curses fly when none of them was around, usually when they were in bed. But somehow, even when he kept a careful eye on who was around, your children managed to catch a few of those words.

It was just like any other day in the lair. Your children was playing in the living area, Minerva and Ragnar’s laughter ringing out loud from the couch while Joan watched them from the armchair, making sure that her little brother and little sister wouldn’t accidentally knock each other out in their little play fight. You and Raph sat just a small distance away, seeing your kids jump around, ready to intervene should something happen, when all of a sudden-.

“Asshole!”, Mini yelled out loud, causing her and Ragnar to laugh even louder.

You and Raph sat up straight, eyes wide in shock, not fully able to believe what you had just heard, when Ragnar piped up.

“Fuck face!”, he yelled, making Mini fall over on the couch, holding her stomach in laughter, almost falling off and onto the floor below. Ragnar, continuing the game he and his sister had going, stood up on the couch, his little form looking so adorable as he tried to square up. “Shit maggot!”

For a solid five minutes you and Raph sat in absolute shock, still processing what the two youngest of your angels had just blurted out. That was when Joan turned calmly towards the two of you, shrugging her shoulders.

“If you think this is bad, you should hear them when you’re not around”, she said, before turning her attention back on her siblings’ play fight.

After this you and Raph started keeping a sharp eye on your children’s vocabulary, and started cracking down harder on Raph’s own use of words.

Donatello:

Galileo is 12, Dorothy and Marie are 7.

For a long time, you and Donnie had had problems with Marie’s tendency to suddenly blurt out things. You could be sitting at the dining table with family and friends over, when Marie would all of a sudden turn towards Vern and ask; “why do you look like that?”

Vern would in turn look at Marie a little confused and ask; “look like what?”

“Like that”, Marie said, pointing at his face. “Ugly”.

Casey almost choked on his drink, and even Splinter fought not to smile. And it would have been slightly adorable, if it wasn’t for the fact that she did this quite often.

Marie didn’t say these things to be hurtful, no, she said these things because she was honest and curious. She never thought that the things that she said could be considered mean. She just wanted to know, and just like she had been taught; if you wanted to know something you would have to ask. That was something Donnie had taught her and her siblings, but never had he thought that it would lead to Marie being so blunt. So blunt that sometimes even her siblings were shocked.

But one this was being blunt, asking out of the blue questions that would take people aback, but never had Marie cursed. But that changed fast one day.

You, Donnie and your children were sitting in the kitchen, eating your breakfast together, talking about whatever things families would talk about in the mornings. Dorothy was telling Donnie about her big plans for the day, aka, dress up, while Galileo told you about a new video game he wanted to play soon, when suddenly Marie perked up with a question that had been playing on her mind.

“Dad?”, she asked, leaving the spoon in her cereal.

“Yes, sweetheart. What is it?”, Donnie asked, happy to see that Marie was at least asking permission to ask a question, instead of just blurting it out in the open.

“There’s a word I don’t understand. Do you know it?”

“What word is it?”

“It’s actually more than one word”, Marie said.

“Is that so?”, Donnie asked. “What are they?”

“Shut the fuck up, shit face”, Marie said, looking up to the side, as if she was trying to remember the exact words as she spoke.

You and Donnie were shocked, staring at her with wide eyes. Dorothy was confused, looking back and forth between her parents and her sister. But not Gali. Instead he gasped, looking offended.

“I told you to get out when I was playing that video game!”, he gasped. “You snuck back in?!”

“You didn’t lock the door”, Marie shrugged, continuing to eat her cereal while you and Donnie was still trying to process what just happened.

Michelangelo:

Sunny is 4, Luis is around 1.

Your dear, sweet little bundle of sunshine, Sunny, was at that period of her life, where she would push boundaries, and say all the words she heard around her, just to get a reaction out of her family members, sometimes even yelling instead of actually speaking. She had also recently had her first real temper tantrum, which, thankfully was rare for Sunny, but sadly not the last to come in the next few years.

Sunny had recently taken to asking you or Mikey for food, only to bring it to the couch, and eat and play with it, causing her to spill everywhere, which you and Mikey obviously wasn’t too happy about, causing you and your husband to put in all efforts to get rid of her habit. That even meant that Mikey could no longer bring snacks to the couch, as that would totally undermine all that the two of you had been working for.

But that didn’t stop Sunny from trying, often ending in failure, which resulted in her first temper tantrum, screaming over the fact that she wasn’t allowed to bring her dino nuggets to the couch, but would have to eat them at a table. That didn’t fly by Sunny, what so ever, causing her to scream and cry for two whole hours, making Luis just as fussy by the sound. Oh, it was exhausting.

But that still didn’t stop Sunny from trying. No, in fact it made her attempts more elaborate, sometimes even taking you and Mikey by surprise.

It soon became a matter of principle for Sunny. It was no longer about her getting to eat on the couch, but simply the act of bringing food to the couch without you and Mikey noticing it. Chips from the cupboard, a pizza slice, a handful of popcorn and one time even a frozen chicken. But soon, Sunny came up with what she considered a genius idea - a cup of juice. If she could bring that to the couch, she would have won the battle. And so, Sunny asked you for a cup of juice while sitting at the dining table, drinking half of the cup, before slowly sliding off her chair, making her way toward the living area with her small cup of juice in her hands.

Here Mikey was sitting in the armchair, bottle feeding Luis. That was perfect for Sunny. With her father’s attention grabbed by her baby brother, there was nothing that could stop her. And so, she quickly and silently made her way towards the couch, her half filled juice cup in her hands.

Once at the couch, she placed the cup on the soft couch cushion, letting it whopple when she then began to climb up on the same cushion, when the cup suddenly tumbled over, spilling juice all over the couch. The exact thing her parents didn’t want to happen. And that was when a word graced Sunny’s lips. A word she had never used before, yet she had heard it being spoken around the lair in situations like this.

“Shit”.

That was when she caught the attention of Mikey, who stood from the armchair, still with Luis in his arms, seeing the mess Sunny had made, her small curse still ringing in his ear.

After that day, Sunny was no longer allowed to bring food into the living area, with each curse word he said from that day forward, resulting in a week without dino nuggets.

[cosmicluvcore]

To be human part 1

Rottmnt Leo x reader, gender-neutral, friends to lovers, jealous Leo

Summary: Leo has the biggest crush on you, but he's afraid that you'd never date a mutant, so with the help of a cloaking brooch, he plans to become your perfect human boyfriend!

Part 2 here

☆

Okay I have to be honest. I saw someone with this idea, but I have no clue where it came from originally. If you know who I should credit, please tell me!!

Anyways, this concept gave me way too many ideas hope you enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leo wasn't great at dealing with his feelings.

He'd been crushing on Y/N for far too long, the terrapin couldn't even remember when the whole thing started.

A few loving glances and a flirty joke or two had suddenly burst into the thought of Y/N keeping him up at night. He wasn't great at hiding it either, blushing like an idiot when they smiled his way.

Leo knew he needed to tell them sooner or later, but he hadn't worked up the courage yet. A part of him hoped they secretly felt the same way and would confess to him, but there'd been no sign of that happening anytime soon. Leo wanted to confess, he really did, but... what if they didn't feel the same way? What if it made their friendship weird? What if he looked like an idiot? What if they never wanted to speak to him again?!

There were just too many 'what ifs' for his liking.

So Leo had decided to take the easy way out, hoping that Y/N would just see how great he was, then he wouldn't have to deal with any uncomfortable conversations. He started going out of his way to impress them, saving them on missions, being overly nice, letting them win in video games, giving them his last pizza slice, (which is very valuable by the way!)

Not that he'd ever admit it, but Leo had spent an embarrassingly long time researching 'how to get your crush to like you back'.

He'd bought a cologne for Pete's sake! But no matter what he did, they never seemed to notice.

~

It was a ordinary evening. Leo and the others sat in the projector room watching a movie. Raph, Mikey and Y/N were sitting comfortably on the floor surrounded by blankets and pillows. Meanwhile, Donnie and Leo took the couch, popcorn in their hands. They were watching some random action movie. Leo wasn't really paying attention.

He was more focused on Y/N.

Y/N had started fawning over the male love interest and that began to spark a little- scratch that, a LOT of jealously in Leo's heart. Every scene that guy appeared in they were freaking out, gushing over him like he was the best thing since sliced bread.

The blue-masked turtle scoffed to himself as the character appeared again, narrowing his eyes at the screen.

What was so great about this guy anyway?

Leo was twice as charming as him, he was the one with good looks, great one-liners and clearly the best ninja skills. This guy barely spoke a word and Y/N was blushing like crazy. But as he kept watching the film, something clicked in his mind.

He was human.

That's something Leo could never beat. Sure, 'biologically' he was part human, but he didn't exactly look like it. The turtle shifted a little in his seat, the uncomfortable feeling of insecurity settling in.

"Leo? Are you good?" Donnie asked, snapping him out of his thoughts for a moment.

"Me? Yeah, I'm great," Leo replied quickly, glancing away from his brother's gaze,

"It's just that this movie sucks, never letting Raph choose again!" He lied, that playful smirk returning to his face as he saw his eldest brother's reaction.

"Hey!" Raph called out from afar.

As the movie continued, Leo sighed deeply and took another handful of popcorn, chewing the kernels absentmindedly and leaning back in his seat. Was that really why Y/N wasn't interested in him? Because he wasn't human? There wasn't much he could do about that, it's not like there was just some magic spell that could-

Leo's face lit up as an idea popped into his mind, cloaking brooches. Yokai used them, April's slime friend had one, so they must be easy to find. Leo's mind started spinning with possibilities. If he could get his hands on a cloaking brooch, he could be human and finally get Y/N's attention! But, where would he get one?

~

For once, Leo was distracted as Y/N entered his room. Usually he'd be all over them chatting up a storm, but he was sitting on his bed glancing away from them.

"Leo?" They asked softly, watching as the turtle was startled by the interruption.

"Hey, what's with the jump scares?" Leo joked with a playful chuckle,

"I thought we were friends." He said in mock offense, leaning onto his back and over-dramatically draping his hand over himself.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his shenanigans, "I just came to check on you drama queen, you're being weirdly quiet today."

Leo blinked at their observation. Jeeze, was he that obvious?

"Ohh well you know, I was just thinking about Raphs' riveting movie choice tonight." He replied casually, quick to make up an excuse.

I mean, technically, it wasn't a lie he had been thinking about the film.

Y/N rolled their eyes at that, "You're just salty it wasn't your choice tonight, besides that movie wasn't so bad." They replied, calmly leaning against the door frame.

"Ooh really? You're just saying that because you were all over the male lead," He retorted, grinning smugly as he watched their cheeks flush, "You, my friend, are biased."

"Well- Can you blame me? That guy was a total stud." Y/N blurted out defensively.

"He was alright, I guess. Just totally not as hot as the real stud in the room." He said with a cocky smirk as he gestured towards himself.

Y/N let out a laugh at that.

Normally, Leo wouldn't take such a tiny thing to heart, but his ego took a hit from the way Y/N laughed at him. He was the type to eagerly take any opporunity to see them smile, but this time it felt like they were laughing at him. Scoffing at just the thought of him being attractive to them, it was this newfound level of insecurity that he didn't know how to handle.

"Alright Leo, seems like you're biased too." They said with a chuckle.

"I simply speak the truth." He shrugged in reply, trying to ignore the painful realization.

Thankfully, Y/N didn't seem to notice, "Well, I'm heading home. I'll see you around."

"I'll see you." Leo smiled, waving as he watched them go.

After the coast was clear, Leo let out a long annoyed sign. He leaned onto his back, letting the soft cushion of his bed comfort him as insecurities began to plague his mind.

He needed a cloaking brooch.

[hijinxinprogress]

The JL finds out Captain Marvels identity and regrets it immensely

JL find out Captain Marvels a child and they start trying to parent him and just being awkward so it’s decided that Captain Marvel will join YJ (Clark started referring to Billy only as ‘son’ and ‘young man’ one time Billy saw an airplane and Clark leaned down and went “That there, son, is called an airplane and it-” “I’ll fucking stab you istg”)

To the public Captain Marvel is just extra supervision for YJ but the hero community knows it’s a way to discretely move Captain Marvel onto a team with people his age and be ‘safer’

But it doesn’t work out the way they want bc Billy’s a chaos gremlin much like YJ so they’re just doing dumb shit in the public eye bc they technically have ‘adult supervision’ (it takes Billy fifteen minutes to convince yj to go against being supervised by green lanterns)

“We’re literally your coworkers??” “I’ve literally never seen you before besides isn’t it illegal for cops to question a minor without their guardian present? 🤨” “Technically, he’s not their coworker bc he’s not in the jl anymore” “Kon” “What? I’m just saying!” “Stfu wait does Marvel even have a guardian??” “He doesn’t”

Anita and Billy are trading magic tips and teaching each other spells they should NOT have access to esp bc they’ve blown up thirteen city blocks and 1/4 of almost every planet they’ve visited with YJ

Cassie and Billy play high stakes games of catch above the earths atmosphere with missiles and shit in their free time and also during missions

Kon and Billy do just plain dumb shit they have no business doing and then playing up the ‘I’m just a baby…and I’m not even really human/I didn’t have a childhood so how would I know that I shouldn’t do that?’ excuse after bankrupting Luthor for the third time this month along with demolishing all of his newly renovated buildings (Which he and Greta repurposed to create low income housing and food pantries)

Cissie invites Marvel to all her Olympic events and he shows up to every single one with an obnoxiously large magical banner

Bart and Billy plan quips, one liners, and trash talk together and everyone hates it bc they only use the good ones on them but villains (along with everyone in their immediate vicinity) are subjected exclusively to shit like “nuh uh” and “make me”

Greta and Billy are taking down shady government operations with zero fucks to give (they had houses built for the people affected but they did also send a very long list of people to the hospital/morgue)

Billy makes Tim a magic skateboard that flies at like Mach 1 with so many magic cameras it’s concerning bc he thinks Tim being unhinged is funny especially it inconveniences or at least stresses out batman

But they’re mostly talking about what lies they’ve told the jl recently so they can plan their lies around each other “I lied to batman yesterday so you gotta back me up” and Tim’s fabricating evidence despite having no other information bc Billy will 100% “Aren’t you a so called ‘ethical’ billionaire? Nonono it’s whatever, I just thought you’d want to look out for the people but-”

And JL tries to lecture Billy about it ‘you should be more mature. I expected better’ and he’s just like ‘why?? I’m baby 🥺 I don’t know any better’ 

And Green Arrow’s so goddamn confused bc ‘Bro?? I’ve watched you do negotiations when Superman’s not available…’ ‘I’m just a little guy’ ‘I’VE WATCHED YOU STOP A WHOLE ASS INVASION IN TEN MINUTES’ ‘little baby man’ ‘But you’re one of the strongest members of the league???’ ‘You do know I couldn’t tie my own shoes like six years ago, right?’ ‘HOW OLD ARE YOU’ ‘Wouldn’t you like to know’

YJ and Billy just do a bunch of petty shit until JL has had enough and they’re like fine whatever it wasn’t a problem before

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 12

Kink: Competence Pairing: Yelena Belova x f!reader Tags/Warnings:  SMUT, competence kink, established relationship, Yelena (she’s a warning), vaginal fingering, light teasing/taunting, pet names (darling, honey), sexual frustration/orgasm denial Word Count: 1.2k

Not beta'd

Summary: Your very attractive super spy girlfriend distracts you whilst you wait for your taxi.

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!

A/N: Am I late? Very. Will I be posting literally 15+ fics in two days even if it kills me? Yes. - Love, Grem x

Prev | Next | Masterlist

You knew your girlfriend was a spy and a good one at that. And a good hit woman. And assassin. Lover. The list went on and on. However, it was one thing knowing it and another thing to see it.

Yelena Belova walked behind enemy lines without batting an eye lid. You watched in awe as she flipped not one, not two, but three guards like they weighed nothing before swiftly shooting them between the eyes without breaking her stride. She was a terrifying force of nature; beautifully dangerous in every way, both good and bad.

You replayed the clip again on your phone. Your eyes are still wide as you watch but you’re breathing quicker. Yelena on the phone is all in black, the glimmer of her chain necklace barely visible. Her hair is slightly tousled as if she’s just taken one of her cat naps instead of swatting minions like it's nothing.  

You press your thighs together, heat throbbing between them. You lock your phone with a heavy sigh, rubbing your hands over your flushed face, trying to scrub the memory of your girlfriend from your mind’s eye.

Now was the worst possible time  to be horny. You were supposed to be going out on a date. You couldn’t postpone it again.

“Hey.”

You startle when Yelena pokes her head from the bathroom, dropping your phone. She smirks at you opening the door further so you can see her outfit; a tee and jeans with her leather jacket and the signature silver chain necklace. It's simple but by God does it work - especially with the heavy liner she wears so well. She leans against the door frame, arms folded and looking smug as she catches your red face scowling up at her when you pick up the phone.

“Watching something you shouldn’t be, darling?” Yelena’s accented taunt only flusters you more.

“No.” You snap, straightening quickly. You clutch your phone to your chest with an iron grip. And of course Yelena notices. Her eyebrow quirks.

“No lies.” She says as she begins to walk towards you. “Show me.”

She holds out her hand, palm up, for your phone the other resting on her hip. You look at her palm and then her face. Moments ago you’d watched her kill mercilessly and those same hands were in front of you. It only added to wanting to slip to your knees before her but this was your little secret. You turn from her, hunkering your shoulders over your phone.

“No way,” you murmur, embarrassed. You don’t know how she’ll react. Yelena looks baffled for a moment and then recovers, frowning.

“Show me.” She says more firmly, still holding out her palm as she gets into your personal bubble. You can smell the soft ylang ylang soap on her skin and it makes you want to lean closer, but the shame and guilt of being caught is too strong. You shake your head feebly and Yelena only grins in response. You recognise that grin, that look in her eyes as she holds up her hands and moves to back away. You know what's about to happen but you’re too weak and slow to stop it.

Yelena side-steps and encircles your waist grabbing your phone-gripping hand, snatching your phone away with ease. She unlocks your phone with one hand as you wriggle against her, trying to take your phone back desperately as she presses play on the video.

Once it starts playing you go still, face reddening. This is single-handedly the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you and you know Yelena is enjoying every moment.

"Why are you watching this video of me?" She questions, her grip on your waist tightening. "And why are you embarrassed to be caught?"

"It's..." You pause and know you can't lie to her again. "It's hot. That's why."

Yelena smirks, pressing her lips to your neck to make you shiver. "Really?" She presses. "You like this?"

She holds the phone directly in your face so that you can't look away. Her teasing tone makes your pulse quicken and you squirm in her grip.

"Yeah." You admit breathily but this time when her lips meet the skin of your neck she nibbles it gently, making you gasp. "Yelena! Our date."

"Hmm?" She looks up at you through her eyelashes. " Oh, that."

"I don't want to postpone it again, baby." You urge despite the heat pooled between your legs. "We keep saying we'll go out and then we end up-"

"Fucking?" Yelena adds helpfully, giving you a smirk.

"- In bed." You finish, trying your best to glare at her but you know she's not deterred in the slightest. "The taxi'll be here in ten minutes anyway."

Yelena raises an eyebrow at you, a hand moving lower down your waist. "I could make you cum in five."

"Lena," You warn, or at least try to; when her fingers tickle the your thighs at the hem of your dress, you stifle a moan. You don't need to look at her to know how smug she looks. Her fingers slip under your dress, teasingly running over your clit in slow deliberate circles just the way you like.

"Try and tell me to stop," She urges tauntingly. "I can feel how wet you are for me already."

You bit down so hard on your lip you think you'll draw blood. It takes all of your resolution and then some to stammer out a choked response.

"S-stop we have to go on our - oh." Before you can even finish your sentence as requested, Yelena slips a flinger under your panties and runs it over your wet slit before sinking it into you, and then moving back to your bare clit. The lack of a barrier turns your legs to jelly, and you grip her arms for support, making Yelena chuckle.

"Feel good, honey?" She purrs into your ear, her fingers teasing your clit and hole so expertly your already beginning to see stars. "I know your body so well. I know you're going to cum for me in your pretty dress."

You gasp a moan, your hips rolling backwards into her. "Yes - feels so good Lena."

"Are you going to cum for me?" She whispers, rubbing your clit and watching the look on your face intently. She knew exactly how you'd look when you cum. She'd made you cum so many times she knew all of your signs; from your face all the way to your cunt.

"Yes! Oh my God - Lena -"

Yelena removes her hand away from your soaked pussy immediately, making you moan out and whine her name. She smirks, holding her glistening fingers in front of her face and keeps eye contact with you as she licks them clean.

"I said could make you cum in five minutes," She points out, kissing your cheek. "I didn't say would."

You huff, fixing her with a frown but she only chuckles.

"Come on," She says taking your hand gently and leading you to the door. "We have a date. You can cum for me later."

Your legs wobble slightly but you follow behind her, scowling at her all the way to the taxi. You were going to get your own back

[absolutebl]

GMMTV'S BL Line Up - Part 2

Presented in order of trailers I find most appealing:

The Heart Killers

FirstKhao & JoongDunk

Jojo directing an action romcom about assassin brothers (Khao & Joong) meet a tattoo artist ex-booster (First) and a mechanic (Dunk). I'm highly amused that Joong plays the older brother to Khao, and that we have a at take on Taming of the Shrew for that pair. I like that everyone is morally gray. This has all GMMTV's best chemistry in one BL and some fresh concepts that I've only really seen tackled in m/m romance (check out Amy Lane's Racing for the Sun, thank me later). I'm excited my only quibble is Jojo, I like his style but his characters can get unreliably messy so...

I genuinely dithered over whether this one should be first. Still it was the only trailer I grinned the whole way through, and had to watch 2x, so it takes top spot for me, but closely followed by a surprise silver medal...

Thame-Po (Heart that Skips a Beat)

EstWilliam

A boy band member and his documentarian start a forbidden relationship. I LOVE Est and am delighted to see him at GMMTV but I've been getting a fatigued by celebrity BL of late. However, after watching the trailer I'm 100% in on this show. I've been waiting for a Blinding Lights style idol romance and this looks like it might be it (Korea, Japan, and Thailand have systemically disappointed me over the past 2 years). Bring it, boys.

Revamp the Undead Story

BounPrem

GMMTV have taken on this IP about a vampire prince and the human who awakens him that was with WabiSabi. Interesting that GMMTV are bring out two vampire BLs as a result. This one involves a coven (hello, who called it way back in 2019? Me. I DID.) Anygay, coven includes Santa (no lies spotter with that one).

(Previously: Vampire Project from Wabi Sabi - trailer now removed, also previously My Broccoli)

Wonder if they will tank that JossGawin one? There'd likely be rioting in the streets if they did. But they might just let it fade away.

Sweet Tooth Good Dentist

MarkOhm

Finally Mark is leading out a BL! This one based on a Jittirain novel about a weird sunshine student dentist and his sugar-addicted patient, described as a romcom meets romantic therapy. Also, Jimmy is there, primarily to give me second lead syndrome. It looks silly but kinda earnest, I'm intrigued.

Perfect 10 Liners

ForceBook, PerthChimon, JuniorMark

New directing yet another university BL with engineers + their mentees. Based on a Jittirain novel. Massive cast. ForceBook playing the same old characters. Enemies to lovers tsunder/sunshine jock/nerd thing. PerthChimon are doing the cohabitation cool guy/dork trope. JuniorMark are doing popular sunshine meets lonely sad boy (the only interesting pair IMHO).

Not sure if these will be interwoven (My Engineer style) or shorter stand alones (Y-Destiny style).

The Ex-Morning

SingtoKrist

This is an original script written just for the OG, direct by Lit (SOTUS) about a news reporter plagued by scandal must work with his ex-boyfriend to rebuild his reputation. A reunion romance that's hitting pretty close to the IRL pair branded mark.

I've never claimed these two had any kind of chemistry and that would appear to still be the case. I think this one will bore me silly. I'm contemplating a trash watch but feel that's best reserved for...

Ossan‘s Love Thailand

EarthMix

WHY MUST THIS BE?!! I really don't like this IP but I still HAVE OPINIONS (of course I do) Look, I doubt even legendary EarthMix can save Ossan for me.

Shall I explain? Too much, let me sum up:

It's a terrible script based entirely on an unsympathetic love triangle, the viability of the whole show actually hinges on the boss character so he MUST be likable, because the lead is an unsympathetic looser (and user of people), and the roommate/love interest has no personality. Looks like this version is doing the same. ALSO Earth is grossly miss-cast. (On the other hand, maybe I'll like it more because of that, I would rather my H were toned down a bit.) Finally... where tf are my ladies? The female characters were the best thing about the original.

Of course I'll still watch it. I'm trash.

My order based on descriptions (and biases) before watching trailers was:

The Heart Killers

Revamp

Sweet Tooth

Perfect 10 Liners

ThamePo

The Ex-Morning

Ossan’s Love Thailand

Now that we have finally gotten part 2 I have only one burning question left for GMMTV.

Why didn't my man Thor get to lead something, damn it?

I will also take this as an opertunity to remind you all that my predictions about my own taste are notorious terrible.

(source)