#it's been ages since I complete somethin like this

[endlessthxxghts]

Breakfast

Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader

Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better. W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚. 18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.

A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him. 

So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.

“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out. 

“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream. 

With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can���t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away. 

“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear. 

“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form. 

“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck. 

“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning. 

Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”

You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?” 

“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks. 

“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure. 

Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”

Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky. 

Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it. 

“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open. 

He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center. 

“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears. 

He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning. 

“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high. 

Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”

“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak. 

“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch. 

Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.

“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him. 

“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud. 

Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage. 

Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly. 

Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat. 

“Darlin’,” he rasps. 

“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words. 

“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you. 

Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb. 

At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close. 

“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact. 

“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue. 

He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail. 

Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”

“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline. 

His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is. 

Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him. 

“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”

“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”

“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”

“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body. 

“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.” 

“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.” 

“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours. 

“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress. 

“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop. 

You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath. 

He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?” 

You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you. 

“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.” 

“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe. 

Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question. 

“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?” 

You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.” 

“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach. 

End note -

I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼

Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics

@pedrostories

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[loveharlow]

I neeeed a friends to lovers with rafe. like you’ve been friends for ages and always been a bit flirty but he’s get a girlfriend so you back off and he gets annoyed. so he invites you to the gym bc you always went together and he’s touchy and ends with a love confession.

i'm only doing blurbs rn so I had to shorten this a bit but i still feel like it encompasses your idea which is just chef's kiss btw😚 (also, this idea reminds me of that new Lay Bankz song thats been going viral:)

cheating, sexual innuendoes, heavy touching, allusions to sex

"Your ass is getting tighter." Rafe breathed out, setting the barbell down, letting the metal clank against the padded gym floors.

You scoffed, taking one last swig from your water bottle and shifting your weight, letting the now closed cup fall gently to the floor. Your hands were on your hips as you spoke through heavy breaths. "You can't say things like that to me anymore, y'know?".

The boy simply shrugged, standing from the bench and leaning against the metal that supported the equipment. "You never had an issue before."

"You didn't have a girlfriend before." You added, cocking an eyebrow and turning away from him to where the dumbbells were lined up against the wall and adjusting your sports bra. "Or are you just gonna pretend Sophia doesn't exist?"

The wall where the weights were had a large mirror behind it, allowing you to see Rafe creeping up behind you, swiping a hand down his face to reveal a smirk. "Is that why you been dodgin' me? What, she say somethin' to you?" He inquired, sliding a gentle hand around your waist to which you brushed off immediately, sighing and turning on your heels to face him.

"No, Rafe, she didn't. But I wouldn't blame her if she did." You informed, crossing your arms and paying no mind to the little distance between you two. "The flirting, the touching — you can't keep doing this. I'm not a home-wrecker or a side-piece."

"You wouldn't have to be if you had said somethin' first." He said so nonchalantly, reaching around to tap your ass as your jaw dropped.

You struggled to find words, stuttering over your sentences before he cut in once more. "Next time you want advice? Don't ask Top. A little vodka and he's an open book." He basically laughed out.

"...Well, whatever he told you, it's over now." You gained your composure, feigning confidence and carelessness as you pulled your workout shorts higher up on your waist and attempted to turn away once more.

"So, you don't wanna fuck me anymore?"

You couldn't help but laugh, partly out of shock and amusement, throwing your head back as your eyes zoned in on Rafe. "That's what he told you?" You asked incredulously, scoffing. "I've wanted to fuck a lot of people, rich boy. You're not special."

The sweaty male simply jutted out his bottom lip, ruffling his hair. "I didn't think you'd want me to bring up the part where he said you were in love with me." He retorted. "Y'know, since I have a girlfriend 'n all..." He mocked your previous statement, throwing his hands out and turning away from you now.

"That's..." You started, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear, feeling your face heat up. "...completely untrue." You muttered under your breath. The somewhat playful banter had turned into dangerous territory for any conversation to take place.

You'd been trying to keep your distance from Rafe ever since he popped out with Sophia for this exact reason.

You bent down to pick up two ten-pound weights in hopes of ending the conversation there when an all too familiar hand fully grabbed your ass in one hand, squeezing so tightly that you let the weights fall to the floor, whipping around in shock.

"Rafe! Dude, what-"

"I wanna hear it." He whispered, a hand grasping your jaw and directing your gaze up to him.

"Hear what?" You forced out, your speech slightly slurred from the way he was pressing your cheeks together.

"You're too pretty to play dumb." He spoke lowly, eyeing you up and down. "We both know you still want me. So, just admit it and I'll give you what you want."

Your mind fiddled with the idea for a moment. You never considered yourself a homewrecker or anything of the sort but something about Rafe was so tempting at this moment, making your knees shake as you stood.

You knew what you said next would forever make you the villain in most people's stories but self-control was always something you struggled with.

"...I'm still in love with you."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"He spoke against your lips, your faces just centimeters apart.

His free hand hooked into the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down as your eyes fleeted around the empty gym room. He dropped to his knees in front of you, dragging your bottoms the rest of the way down as he licked his lips.

"Next time, let's not make this so hard on ourselves, yeah?"

©loveharlow.

heads up: i added emoji anons to my blog, so feel free to send an ask to take one if you frequently send in asks!

[songsofadelaide]

Hey!! just wanna say ive been obsessed w ur works and was wondering if u can do a hoshina drabble/ fic based on P1harmony’s Fall in Love Again (aaaaa pref if past/present can be soichiro & hoshina orrr narumi & hoshina) hust an idea that popped in my mind cause the song kept showing up in my fyp!! thank u so muchh!!

Anon you and your big brain! 🤩 I'll have you know I love the angst between the Hoshina brothers so I might as well! Since you've given me the idea. ✨

✧ Fall In Love Again - P1Harmony

candor — another side story to radiant point. | refulgence

There was a time when you thought of Soichiro as your first love. There was a time when you thought he would turn your way.

After being fed the fairy tale of true love time and again and having eaten of it until its flavours were bland in your mouth, you soon came to realise that all you were fed was false hope. Soichiro was his family's ultimate incarnation, while you were but a paltry offering by yours. Though paltry you were, you were all your family had. Your beauty was their pride and joy, but it certainly wasn't enough to win the heart of your supposed betrothed.

As you grew up alongside the Hoshina brothers, it became clearer to you that it would have made more sense to have been offered to the second son instead. Not only were you two closer in age, but you also shared a deeper friendship with him— the kind that made you forget all about the existence of his older brother, and what his existence meant for your own.

Soichiro did turn your way. Only you were too preoccupied to notice.

The older boy was evidently surprised at how you were able to hold yourself against him during one of your sparring sessions. It had only been a matter of months since you started swordsmanship training under your father but you had a mastery of the basics now and even had a certain flair for precision. But regardless of your exponential growth, you were still outclassed by him, and he toppled over you as easily as kicking a potted plant to the ground.

"Nice try, beggar princess. Let me tell ya somethin' while we're here," Soichiro stated as he turned his back on you. "You're leavin' yourself wide open in other areas, but other than that, your stance is perfect."

He didn't want to admit that there was a beauty in your ferocity, too. Not with his little brother watching you both so intently. He'll settle with berating you until you've had enough. It's not like you were going anywhere, anyway. As far as he knew, his family owned you now.

That time you thought of Soichiro as your first love was a joke.

It was only because you fed into your family's narrative that a daughter like you needed a husband like him. As you grew older, the prospects of him ever becoming a tolerable husband dimmed by the day. He acknowledged your skill now, but he was still an awful person at the end of the day. Awful in that he had no sense of delicacy at all, even when it came to you, who was supposed to be his wife in the future.

Now that you were sixteen, the fairy tale was over, or the curse had been lifted, and you finally decided for yourself that you wanted no part in Soichiro's plans for you in the future, whatever those may be.

So you did what he thought you would never have the courage to do.

"I thank you and your family for your kindness to me, and I apologise, oji-san, but I don't want to marry Soichiro-san," you stated as you prostrated yourself before the Hoshina patriarch. "As much as I would have loved to be part of your family, Soichiro-san's attitude leaves much to be desired."

Was he hearing things right? He was the one who had attitude problems?

Soichiro sat there in complete shock at your declaration, but Soshiro was even more surprised at it unfolding. Their father didn't look too nonplussed by your statement. He knew that his eldest son was a little devil who thrived in discouraging both you and his younger brother, only for you to show him results time and again.

He also knew that Soshiro challenged his older brother for your hand, not just once, but more times than he can remember. Perhaps he can turn you around once more by opening a simple possibility. "Is there nothing that can change your mind? Your family agreed to an engagement, after all."

"I..."

I want Soshiro.

But you couldn't say it. You were in no position to make any demands even if they were freely offered to you. And what would Soshiro say about that? He was more than happy to be your friend, but would he ever accept you as his bride?

No, you've done enough dreaming for the last ten years.

"I'm afraid not, oji-san."

It was only when you left their estate that the brothers spoke once more until it eventually evolved into another duel— like the wild beasts that they were.

"You should have said something back then!" Soichiro exclaimed between his slashes and parries. "Why didn't you ask her and tell her to stay? That you would have treated her better than I ever would? I mean, you already do, but—"

"Are you kidding?! You already ran her out of the family! She already made it clear that she wants nothing to do with us! What makes you think she'd want to stay here?!" Soshiro shot back at him, mirroring his speed and movements until they were all but a single blur of swords and wind.

This blockhead second son knew nothing, of course. Soichiro was annoyed beyond sense at how dense his little brother was. Was he the only one who saw the smile that lit your face every time Soshiro welcomed you to their estate? Was he the only one who noticed how sweet your laughter sounded when it was Soshiro at the other end of the joke? Or how you once said in confidence that you preferred Soshiro's presence over his own because he was unbearable to be with, even though it was all his doing?

Soichiro got his just deserts and it annoyed him to no end. Because once more, he faced the prospect of being second best to his little brother, who grew in strength and skill with each passing day and even managed to win your heart all the same.

"Hgk—!"

But it was his brother's blade on his neck now. Soshiro got the one-up against him without any handicaps this time. His usually boisterous little brother withdrew his sword and quietly stared down at him. Soshiro did not look at him with a sense of superiority, but that of revulsion. The very same emotion in your eyes when you bade him farewell that day.

"I'm going to ask for her in my own time. You better not get in my way when that happens."

Your promotion to Third Division Platoon Leader was met with quiet celebration. Many of your fellow team members rejoiced in the opportunity to work under you this time as their leader. You were known to give out measured and concise orders that allowed every single one of them to seamlessly weave through the field and get the job done with minimum risks and casualties.

When Captain Ashiro congratulated you and presented you with your badge in her office, she let you in on a little secret only she and a handful of other superior officers were aware of. "When you first took the exams, you received a commendation from Captain Hoshina Soichiro of the Sixth Division."

Huh. You heard her right once. "I did not know that."

Captain Hoshina Soichiro of the Sixth Division vouched for your skills. If this was his way of making amends for his terrible treatment of you in the past, it was a pretty gesture, but still far too late.

"In his recommendation, he detailed how your family was a close associate of theirs and how you learned swordsmanship alongside him and our Vice Captain."

"That's true, Captain. Much of my skill was honed under their roof."

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you suddenly shift from Kendo to Fencing?"

Your Captain's question elicited a small laugh from your lips. "You might think it a petty reason, Captain, but I changed sword arms just so I could be better than them at something."

You gently touched the shiny new badge clipped to the collar of your formal regalia. "Soshiro... I mean Vice Captain Hoshina is someone I looked up to very much when we were children. If I may be so bold to say that he inspired me to take up swordsmanship."

"Hmm. I see," came Mina's short but understanding reply to you. "Just as Hoshina is important to me on the battlefield, I'll also be counting on you to carve open a path for me and everyone else."

"Of course, Captain, ma'am!" You said resolutely, followed by a crisp salute that matched the sharpness of your outfit today.

"Will you marry me?"

Soshiro asked you that question in the dead quiet of the night as he held you close in his arms. The silence of your quarters and the stillness of the rest of the base made it feel like you were the only two people in the world.

"Yes," you said with a small swallow of saliva to wet your mouth. "As long as you aren't gonna be like your brother."

"I'm nothin' like him now, am I?" He chuckled at your assumption. "If I wanted to be like him, I would've chased you out of our home the moment I saw ya."

"Mm. I suppose you're right about that," you nodded at him. You contentedly sank into his touch when he moved to cup your warm cheek in his hand. "You're nothing like him at all."

"Good to know. That's high praise comin' from you."

As another comfortable silence lingered over your tired figures, a memory of the past crossed your mind. "Do you remember that time I told your father I didn't want to marry your brother?"

That day was one he would never forget any time soon. "As clear as day."

"I nearly begged for you instead," you told him with a soft laugh.

"You should have. I would've been there beggin' right next to ya!"

"In the end, everything worked out for this beggar princess," you said with a small sigh. "Gosh, I still can't imagine myself as your brother's wife. It kinda gives me the creeps."

A bout of tender laughter left Soshiro's lips this time. He raised your hand to his face and pressed a soft kiss on your palms, near the range of calluses you had from gripping your sabre. "You don't have to imagine anything other than our future together."

You mirrored his actions and planted a similarly gentle kiss on his cold knuckles, your breath blooming warmth into his fingers. He weaved his fingers into yours, as though sharing that little glow with you "Of course. For as long as we're fighting for it."

✦ Thank you for requesting! Nothing makes me happier than writing a request I know I can work with. 🍹 You can read more about requesting here

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Jamil Viper - Luxe Couture Vignette

"If I let this opportunity pass me by"

[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]

Jamil: So, this is the "world's most beautiful plaza", the luxury shopping arcade Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: It's no wonder that the passage is lined with high-brand shops.

Ace: Woah! I totally dig those clothes in that shop's window! I'ma check 'em out.

Jamil: Hey, Ace! Ah man, I'll go and bring him back.

[Grim, Vil, and Azul look exasperated]

Shop Staff A: Welcome～!

Ace: Woooah! There's a ton of cool-lookin' clothes and accessories! This's so awesome!

Jamil: Hey… Don't just run off on your own. Come on, we're heading back to Vil-senpai.

Ace: It's just a little peek～ I saw somethin' I liked. Like see, like this T-shirt…

Ace: …Urk, it costs 100,000 Madol [1,000 Thaumarks]! That's waaay too expensive for me!

Jamil: That price is fairly standard for a high-brand shop… Hm?

Jamil: This stitching… It's pretty shoddy. Looks like they're using pretty low-quality cotton, too.

Jamil: Strangely, this doesn't look like the sort of thing that would be sold at this price.

Ace: Huh? Aren't T-shirts all made of the same stuff?

Jamil: Sure. But high-brand T-shirts are generally made with high-quality cotton.

Jamil: Better quality cotton is soft and have a nice feel to it.

Jamil: Not only does it not wrinkle easily, but when the cotton is made into T-shirts, it keeps its shape for longer and makes for a nice silhouette.

Jamil: The design of these other shirts isn’t too terrible… But the fabric quality is just too low.

Jamil: There's no way a shop selling at this level can have a store in the Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: Which means… They must have lowered the quality of their material after opening. Did they run into some kind of business issues?

Ace: Hey! That jacket's so rough-lookin' and cool! Excuse me, I'd like to try this on!

Shop Staff B: Ohh my, I'm sorry. I'm afraid that jacket cannot be tried on here.

Jamil: …

Ace: Huh? Really?

Shop Staff B: That's right. That is a really pricey jacket. If it is somehow dirtied or damaged, it would be on the customer to compensate the loss, wouldn't you say?

Jamil: …So essentially, he has to decide to buy it or not without trying it on?

Shop Staff B: Well, I guess that's right.

Jamil: …Would I be allowed to try these slacks on?

Shop Staff A: Unfortunately, that won't be possible either. Sorry.

Jamil: Ah, right. Thought as much.

Ace: C'mon. Isn't that a stupid rule?

Middle-aged Man: Oh nice, this is a pretty nice shop. The prices seem pretty reasonable, too.

Shop Staff B: Oh, what an important looking customer! Welcome～! Is there something in particular you're looking for?

Middle-aged Man: I'm wanting a jacket, see… Think you have something that'll suit me?

Shop Staff A: Well, if that's the case, how about this one? It's one of our most popular designs.

Shop Staff B: I'm sure it will be perfect for you. Please, try it on!

Ace: Wha―!? But when I asked earlier, they said it wasn't allowed to be tried on!!

Shop Staff A: Students like you can't possibly buy something like that, so there's no reason for you to try it on, is there?

Shop Staff B: Please go home before you start to disturb our other customers. We don't have the free time to be dealing with you two.

Ace: Huh...!?

Jamil: …Not only are their products low-quality, but so are the staff's customer service.

Jamil: There's no reason to stick around in a shop like this. Let's go meet up with Vil-senpai and the others.

[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]

Ace: Wha was that all about, treatin' us like dirt just 'cause we're students!? That was terrible service. That pissed me off so much!

Ace: First they shoo us out, then they play all buddy-buddy up to the rich-lookin' guy.

Jamil: I bet that since they've been rubbing elbows with the rich and famous while working at that high-brand store…

Jamil: They've completely started to think that they've improved their own social standing.

Jamil: Thinking about those sorts of folks and getting upset about it is a waste of time. Just shake it off.

Jamil: Only the best brands, in both name and reputation, will flourish here at the Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: I can't tell if they had a change in management since opening, or if they've suffered business losses…

Jamil: But from what I saw, I can't imagine that place continuing to be suitable for this passage.

Jamil: Even if we do nothing, I'm sure they'll have no choice but to close down eventually.

Ace: It could ruin a brand's rep if they got kicked out of the Crystal Galleria. That'd feel sooo good to see, though!

―The next day

Jamil: I really can't relax at all while at Vil-senpai's side. I'll have to relax as much as I can during my personal free time here.

Jamil: Maybe I'll check out the café at the far end of the Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: Hm? This shop looks… I guess I can check it out.

Clerk: Welcome! Please feel free to look around.

Jamil: …This place is completely different than the one yesterday. Now, where's that outfit I saw in the window…?

Jamil: Ah, here it is. I thought it looked like a pretty nice jacket from outside, but the pockets and lining give off a more casual feel.

Jamil: This isn't something I see often. The material is good and the sewing and embroidery is delicately done…

Clerk: Would you like to try it on? Come this way.

Jamil: Thank you.

Jamil: Yeah, the size is good and it fits well. I think this color also actually goes well with the clothes I brought with me, too…

Jamil: …How much is this jacket?

Clerk: That would be 50,000 Madol [500 Thaumarks].

Jamil: I see. Would you allow me to think on it?

Clerk: Of course! And please take your time to look at our other items.

Jamil: A 50,000 Madol jacket… That's a bit of a steep price for me… Hmm…

Jamil: The fabric's quality, the design, and the superb stitching make this very high quality…

Jamil: If I think of those factors, even 50,000 Madol is fairly cheap. Also…

Jamil: I've found this in the Crystal Galleria, of all places. If I let this opportunity pass me by, there won't be another chance to buy something like this.

Jamil: …Excuse me. Could I purchase the jacket I tried on earlier?

Clerk: Absolutely. I'll go fetch a new one for you. Please wait a moment.

Jamil: Sure.

Jamil: …I was able to buy a sensible jacket from a reasonable shop here in the Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: Yeah. I'm definitely satisfied with this. And I'm sure this'll be a great memory.

[Fairest City – Queen's Palace]

Shop Staff A: KYAAA! VIL-SAMAAA! YOU'RE SO BEAUTIFUL!!

Shop Staff B: SO BEAUTIFUL! I JUST HAVE TO GET A PICTURE OF THAT STUNNING FACE!

Jamil: Hm? I think I saw those two screaming fans over there yesterday...

Shop Staff A: Oh, look! Do you think those guys walking alongside Vil-sama are models too? Should we ask for an autograph?

Shop Staff B: EXCUSE ME!! PLEASE GIVE US YOUR AUTOGRAPH!!

Jamil: …Hahah! You sure you want my autograph?

Shop Staff B: Absolutely! …Wait, huh? I feel like I've seen him before…

Shop Staff A: Wait! Isn't he that customer that we turned away yesterday…!?

Jamil: I'm honored that a mere student like myself would stir your recollections.

Shop Staff A: Wh-Who would have thought he'd be so famous to walk the tapis rouge…? And he looks so good in that outfit!

Shop Staff B: If we had sold clothing to those boys yesterday, it might've been such good publicity!!

Shop Staff A: H-Hey! Once you're finished here, would you care to come visit our shop once more?

Shop Staff B: We have a collection of garments that would look fabulous on you! Please allow us to design your new look!

Jamil: I have to decline. Your shop does not have any article of clothing that would suit me.

Jamil: After all, just as you said yesterday, there is no need to try anything on.

Shop Staff A/B: U-Uhhh… So when we said that yesterday, uh…

Jamil: If that is all, perhaps you should head home now? Not only are you bothering others around you…

Jamil: But I also do not have the free time to be dealing with you, either.

Requested by @ordinaryanon.

[release-the-sheep]

again!

Rizzles, 47

hi again :)

(prompt from a list, it's been ages, I'm getting through them)

47 "Don't wanna come until I feel you in me."

"Hey, you wanted to see me?"

Jane steps into Maura's office and shuts the door behind her when Maura signals for her to do so from behind her desk. "Blinds too, please."

"You got it," says Jane uncertainly, frowning slightly. She turns when she's completed the task and strides over to the desk, which Maura has moved around and is now leaning against.

Maura looks conflicted, which does not unfurrow Jane's brow at all. "You weren't doing anything pressing, were you?" Maura asks, and it's sheepish.

Jane has very, very rarely seen Maura sheepish. Bashful, at times. Embarrassed, occasionally. Sheepish? Hardly ever. Jane's confusion only deepens. "I was looking back over the findings from ballistics for the Chang case, just 'cause somethin' might be different the seventh time I checked. No, it wasn't pressing. What's up, are you okay? What's going on?" She can feel herself getting worked up the longer Maura sits there, fidgeting with the cuffs of her cardigan and staring at her.

Maura takes a deep breath, flexing her fingers around cashmere. "You recall this morning?" she asks, proud of how normal she's able to make her voice sound despite the fact that she's practically shaking with need.

Jane immediately knows what Maura is referring to, and she smirks. She had spent last night at Maura's, and this morning had caught Maura looking over at her from the other side of the bed as they got dressed, rapt. Jane had felt a naughty smirk settle on her face and had decided to tease just a bit. She had turned fully toward Maura, dressed in just her grey Nike sports bra and black boyshorts, and locked eyes with her. Then, Jane had slowly slid first fingertips, then fingers, then her entire left hand under the thick band of said shorts. She had moved her hand around in there just enough to set Maura's mind reeling, before pulling it back out and reaching for the pants she'd laid out on the chaise longue. She'd even had the audacity to cavalierly wipe the pads of her fingers on the side of the shorts before going about the rest of her morning routine. Maura had felt her arousal light like a candle, flaring brightly at Jane's inciting actions, and then settling into a tamer but steady burn in their aftermath.

The candle had burned all morning and into the afternoon until at 2:17pm, Maura, now a puddle (of wax, or of something else), had decided she could wait no longer for Jane's touch and had sent the detective a quick, desperate text requesting her presence. It had included neither reason nor detail, and yes, Maura sees now how that might've looked to Jane. She spares half a moment for thoughts of repentance, but no more, as Jane appears now to be catching on. She always has been quick.

"You really been thinkin' 'bout that all day?" Jane asks, voice low and hips confidently cocked as she looms over Maura, getting right in her space.

Maura means to sound indignant but is aware she comes off needy and breathless instead. "Can you blame me? When you did it I could feel your fingers as if it was my skin they were on, and I've been feeling them since."

Jane's pupils dilate at her admission. "Well damn, that sounds like it must've made it hard to get any work done," she rasps.

Maura nearly stamps her foot in impatience. "You really are aggravating, you know."

Jane chuckles, dark and liquid and delicious, and Maura thinks the sound would taste like chocolate if she could somehow lick it. Jane takes the tips of Maura's fingers in hers and spins her so the ME's back is to her front. "You love it, though," she murmurs.

"Generally," Maura agrees, unwilling to risk hives and too caught up to think of a less incriminating answer. "Touch me, please," she nearly whines.

"With pleasure."

Jane begins by snaking a hand up over Maura's shoulder at her neck, pulling aside the collar of Maura's blouse slightly so she can leave a wet, hot kiss there. That hand continues over and down Maura's chest until it is cupping Maura's breast. Jane had recognized the strap of Maura's bra a moment ago when she revealed it, and she knows it does not have padding, just a wire and satin cups and a front clasp. She takes advantage, pressing the heel of her palm firmly against soft flesh and then curling her fingers around to knead.

Maura can actually feel some of the texture of Jane's scar through the two thin layers of fabric, and she shudders in pleasure. Her nipple is hard, poking, and Jane responds by loosing her fingers and caressing with her palm flat. It makes Maura twitch and gasp.

Jane does that melted chocolate chuckle again. Her hand glides lower down Maura's front, until she is cupping Maura between her legs. She can feel the heat and even a hint of the moisture of Maura's arousal through designer slacks, and it makes her hiss. She starts to rub, slow but firm, and Maura throws her head back against Jane's shoulder with a wanton moan. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding, you could come from just this, huh?" Jane asks, awed.

"Don't... want to," breathes the pathologist, pushing her hips into Jane's hand.

"What? Why?" Jane moves as if to pull her hand away but Maura clamps her own hand down against Jane's wrist, maintaining the delectable pressure. She gathers herself to speak again.

"Don't wanna come until I feel you in me."

Jane feels dizzy. "Well, then, I better get your pants open," she croaks.

Maura reaches behind her with the hand not holding Jane's in place and pulls Jane's face toward hers over her shoulder. She lays a searing kiss on Jane, messy and forceful. "You'd better."

Jane licks her lips where Maura's just were and undoes the clasp, button, and fly of Maura's slacks. She wastes no time sliding into satin panties and collecting Maura's arousal on her fingertips. Maura keens, rolling her hips and pulling Jane tighter against her. Jane starts to move her fingers then, dipping low to the base of Maura's entrance before coming back up again nearer her clit, without touching it directly. She repeats the movement a few times, thoroughly slicking up the area, though Maura hardly needs her help with that. It's almost exactly what Jane did to herself this morning while Maura watched, and it makes Jane ask, "Is this what you've been wanting all day?"

"Yes," mewls Maura, long and drawn out and sinful. "Yes Jane, oh god, fuck me, please, please," she babbles.

Jane places a hungry kiss on Maura's shoulder as she enters her. The dual sensations ignite Maura, causing her to moan again. Jane is being deliberate, tracing her finger everywhere along Maura's walls, stroking and bending and flexing before beginning a fairly firm, rhythmic rubbing of one particularly sensitive patch at the front. To say it is working for Maura would be an understatement; the ME is writhing in Jane's arms, pressing into Jane's assault, whimpering and moaning and sighing with each move Jane makes.

And yet it's not enough. "Jane, please, another finger," Maura pants, digging her nails hard enough into Jane's side to leave marks as she holds the pair of them as close together as she can.

"Yeah?" asks Jane, her voice coming out low from deep in her chest, knowing she's teasing.

"Please," begs Maura again, near crying from the sensation building at her apex.

"Okay, baby, I've got you," murmurs Jane, slipping in her ring finger alongside the middle finger she's already stroking Maura with, easily incorporating it into her ministrations.

Maura groans and bucks her hips, startling them both with the bang it causes their bodies to make against her desk.

The sound activates Jane. "You know what to do if you don't like it but I'm gonna try something, okay?" she warns on a growl.

Maura makes a sound that feels more likely to be acquiescence than anything else, and Jane moves. She grips Maura's hair at the back of her head, lays her forearm against Maura's spine, and bends the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts over her own desk.

There's a muffled noise of pure pleasure as Maura bites down on her fist to stifle an honest-to-god scream at Jane's actions.

"You okay, baby?" asks Jane gently, beginning to slow down, "Bad scream or good scream?"

Maura scrabbles for Jane's hand between her legs, holding her in place. "So good, oh fuck Jane so good, so, so—"

But Jane has twisted her hand so she can circle her thumb around Maura's clit, and Maura comes. It feels like flying, every sensation completely tuned out except for the white-hot point of pleasure between her thighs.

The first feeling to return is the warmth of Jane's body as she's held, followed by the hard feeling of the desk she's still pressed against. Jane pulls out only now, having been slowly easing Maura down. She rubs broad circles over Maura's back. "That was good huh," she asks, and Maura feels her face form a sleepy grin at how self-satisfied the detective sounds.

"It was, yes," she agrees easily. "Wanna do it again later? I feel like we should christen my home office the same way."

Jane just laughs, and Maura thinks of chocolate.

[smok3r7]

Latching On To You

Joel Miller x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Chapter one: History Lesson

Series Masterlist & My Main Masterlist - My Ao3

Series summary: What happens when, after thirteen loving years of being with Joel, you start to feel like he’s slipping away from your grasp? How much of yourself will you lose because of the trauma your father put you through, at such a young age? You could be wrong about Joel, but something is telling you otherwise - or are you just not healed enough to see past your own insecurities?

Chapter summary: The beginning of you and Joel is a story that most can’t relate to, truly one of a kind. The history between your father and you, explains how the trauma shaped your mind and future. You and Joel have a bond like siblings for the longest time, but as you grow older and independent, a stronger connection is formed - which leads to your blissful beginning of your life together.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: age difference in the beginning (15/20) NOTHING SEXUAL UNTIL READER IS OVER 22 & JOEL IS 27!! No use of y/n, no outbreak AU, no Sarah AU, smoking weed and drinking, abandonment issues, trauma from father w/ alcoholism, attachment issues, HEAVY ANGST, daddy kink (minimal), unprotected P in V, fingering, mutual pinning

~So here we go ladies and gents! My first story back, I cannot wait for you all to read this, I’m not sure how long of a series this will be but this is a start! Thank you so much to @chloeangelic for helping to revise this and giving me tips, I really appreciate your help babes🫶🏼

“Aren't you somethin' to admire?

'Cause your shine is somethin' like a mirror

And I can't help but notice

You reflect in this heart of mine

If you ever feel alone and

The glare makes me hard to find

Just know that I'm always

Parallel on the other side

'Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul

I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go

Just put your hand on the glass

I'll be there to pull you through

You just gotta be strong” ~ Mirrors by Justin Timberlake

——————————

You and Joel pretty much grew up together in your teen years. His mom actually worked with yours at the hospital as nurses in Austin and that’s how they became close, like sisters. Hence how the Millers became a pretty huge part of your family, resulting in Joel and you meeting. You guys happened to also live across the street from each other - complete coincidence. You had just turned fifteen, and Joel had turned twenty, only a month after your birthday when you guys started hanging out. Joel wasn’t going to college because he was working full time, saving up the money he made so he could buy his dream house he talked about and maybe even venture out a little bit. But since he was living at home, Joel would watch over you a lot while your mom was either working, out with friends, or with his parents.

Your home, that had always been a two parent household, had now gone down to a one parent household in a matter of seconds, or so it felt like. Your dad was always heavily involved in your life with everything you ever did and he loved you unconditionally, but it was as if something switched in his brain, and he suddenly started to drink all the time, then distancing himself from everything the last four years. After the second year of him acting like a mess, you brushed it off that it’s because you were becoming a teen and that’s just what happens, that you weren’t “Daddy’s Little Girl” anymore.

But as months passed, you started to notice how bad it really was. He was drinking so much that he would pick nasty fights with you and your mom. He needed it to live at that point, where he would wake up at night from withdrawals. But the part that will forever leave you scarred, the part that causes your heart to break the most, is how he left.

It was the morning of your fifteenth birthday that your mom told you that he left, the bastard packed up his bags and left in the middle of the night. No goodbyes, no big hugs, and no apologies while he bawled “I love you baby.” Absolutely nothing.

Since then, now in your mid twenties, there’s been radio silence from him. You haven’t heard anything, which you honestly prefer after how he left things. But after all this time you still don’t understand where your relationship went wrong or what you did wrong for your father to drastically change like that.

But like a blessing in disguise, here came Joel and his family to help you and your mom. Joel’s parents have been good friends with your own since you were little, so they were caught just as off guard as your mom was when your dad just packed up and was gone. Since your father left, Joel’s parents have been a godsend for your mom. She was the one who went into a spiral because her and your dad had been together since they started high school. Least to say, she never saw this coming, not then and not in a million years. It truly broke her, and you were scared that you would lose her too.

—

Throughout high school, you and Joel hung out but still slowly drifted apart as he was working all the time and you were focused on school. You were okay with that - you needed a bit of a distraction from Joel, mainly due to having the world’s biggest crush on him and the fact that you were getting a little bit attached to him. Ever since your father left, you tried your best to avoid serious relationships of any kind in fear of them suddenly leaving you. But it was different with Joel, you always thought he was the most genuine person there was and you knew he wouldn’t leave you.

He would play the silly games you wanted to play, listen to whatever drama was happening with your friends, and he would help if you were having any trouble with the feelings that you had regarding your father; if you could even call him that. However, you’ve never told Joel about your feelings for him because, well, at that point you weren’t eighteen, so that would be wrong on his end. But you also didn’t want to ruin the relationship you guys had. You two were literally best friends and you were scared that, if you went any further, that he would slink away from you, just like how your father did, and you didn’t think you could take another emotional loss like that.

—

As soon as you graduated high school and had celebrated your nineteenth birthday and Joel’s twenty-fourth, you and Joel would hang out all the time. You pretty much lived between your moms and Joel's two bedroom house he ended up buying a year prior. You got a part time job at the local bar in town and only worked early afternoons. So, you had the evenings to do what you wanted, which usually included something to do with Joel - worked out great since he got out of work just an hour before you. You two would go hiking, fishing, you’d kick his ass in card games or a lot of the time, you would smoke some weed and have some drinks together and talk about whatever was on your mind.

After your twenty-first birthday, you had gotten a job as a receptionist at the largest law firm in Austin. You were doing really well for yourself, considering your work history - which altogether was not that impressive. So you were really proud of yourself for not giving up and continuing to strive to better yourself. After getting this job you finally felt like you had a purpose, you didn’t feel like you were floating around lost and barely getting by. Your mom was so happy for you, so happy in fact that she threw a party to celebrate you and your success.

You’ve never liked parties that had you as the center of attention, but you knew that your mom needed this more than you did. Ever since that night, your mom did the best she could to hide her feelings around you, but you knew she was breaking internally. So you’ve let her make a big deal out of anything - even if it’s small, for example; About five months ago you had made a beautiful painting of a cabin that you and your mom love to run away too sometimes. She had loved it so much that she showed it to everyone and somehow she ended up getting it put into a little gallery downtown. So needless to say, you adore your mom and will let her be happy by letting her throw you celebrations for even the smallest victories.

After getting settled into the job, there were a couple months where you and Joel didn’t see each other. Nothing was wrong, it just kind of happened, your mom needed you at the house and the new job was taking all your time and attention - Joel understood completely and was so happy for you. However, deep in you, there was a part of you saying that he was distancing himself and he was going to leave you. You almost felt like he sensed that because you two would just chitchat on the phone for a couple hours when you both had time instead, and this helped ease your mind and confirm that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Around a year and a half goes by, as does another round of birthdays, and one promotion that you couldn’t believe you got. You are proud to say that you have finally found a healthy mix of home life and work life. You pretty much have been living at Joel’s for the last three months, which naturally started happening because the commute to work was shorter by twenty minutes from Joel’s house. You still pop over to your moms to grab a few things, hang with her for a day or two, make sure she’s good, and then you’re back off to Joel’s. You’ve honestly been really happy with how your life has been going, you couldn’t be happier.

—

It’s a calm summer evening, warm enough for the bugs to be out but the breeze helps to keep them away. You and Joel are sitting out on his gorgeous back patio that has string lights from tree to tree like a roof, a good size fire pit in the middle of the circle of comfortable lawn chairs - this is your favorite place to be.

You two are talking about how each other's Friday went, which led to Joel bringing up that since you’re here all the time, you should just move in with him. You used to joke around about living together anyway, so when he brings it up as he puts more logs on the fire you started, you just brush it off thinking he’s joking around like he always does.

You laugh as you say, “I remember we used to say that all the time,” looking up at Joel after lighting the blunt you rolled, quickly realizing he’s not joking this time. You oppose at first, not wanting to step on his safe space more than you feel like you already have. But Joel stops your rambling by saying your name as he sits back down next to you and grabs your hand on your thigh.

You instinctively stop rambling and start listening to him talk, “I’m being serious. You’re not a burden. I love that you come over, I honestly don’t know what I would do with myself if you weren’t here. If I didn’t want you here, I simply wouldn’t have asked you.” You’re left speechless, a tear starting to roll down your cheek as you take a hit off the blunt. You hand it to him and, before you can say anything back, you start coughing like you’ve never smoked before. Joel just starts laughing at you, his laugh so genuine he leans back into his chair, putting one hand on his belly and the other arm folding over his head.

“Shut up, Joel! You act like this never happens to you!” You spit between coughs and sips of water. Joel calms down with his laughter as he wipes a tear from his eye and takes a hit.

“No darlin’, you always know how to ruin tender moments.” He goes to put it out so you can recover but, before he can, you grab it from him.

“Um, Miller, I’m not done with that. Also, just for the record, I don’t always ruin the moment. I just make them an even better memory for us,” you wink as you blow smoke out into the starry night sky, watching the soft wind make the smoke disappear. He looks at you and just shakes his head as he smiles to himself and says, “That you sure do, sweetheart…that you do.”

You two sit back into a comfortable silence as you watch the flames dance around and listen to the bugs chirp making their own melody. After a couple rounds of passing the blunt back and forth, Joel puts it out in the ashtray next to the two of you. “The offer is on the table, always will be,” Joel says, looking into the fire as he sits back and puts his arms over his head and leans back in his chair. You smile to yourself, knowing he was not going to give it up and, honestly, you wouldn’t either if it was the other way around.

You lean back and turn your head to your right and look straight into his beautiful brown eyes, your high starting to catch up to you and you can feel yourself beginning to look at Joel in a hazy way. Your eyes start to wander along his beautiful features, you notice his hair is getting a little bit longer and the curls are developing a lazy pattern. You start to fantasize about how it would feel to run your fingers through them and pull on his locks to make him look at you while he kisses you.

His lips are the next thing your eyes travel to, and you wonder how they would feel on your body. Starting from your tits, all the way to your pussy, the thought makes you squirm in your chair a little. You’re hoping you can play it off, that you’re just got a chill, but you know Joel is smarter than that. You go back to looking at his eyes, almost forgetting that he said something to you, and you see he’s already staring back. There’s a sudden shift in his eyes as you say, “I might just take you up on it then.”

The next thing you feel is his warm hands on your cheeks and his soft warm lips on yours. You instantly start to kiss back with desire and affection, instantly melting into his touch, but as soon as you bring your hands to his, he stops.

“Darlin’, I’m- oh, shit,” he mumbles, starting to back away from you, feeling like he has overstepped, but before he’s completely out of your grasp, you pull him back in by the collar of his denim jacket and kiss him again. This time, he doesn’t back away from you. Instead, he stands up from his chair and picks you up from yours, latching your legs around his waist as he brings you inside. As he opens the slider door to go in, you open your eyes and the flames from the fire catch your eye.

“Joel!” You exclaim, and he stops walking, looking at you with a confused look on his face,“The fire.” You try your hardest not to laugh and he turns his head to see the flames are still pretty big. He sighs as he shakes his head, “Another perfect example on how you ruin the moment darlin’.” You slap his chest playfully and you both start to laugh. He kisses you as he taps your thigh, signaling for you to hop down.

“Sorry for not wanting your place to burn down,” you scoff, putting your hands up in surrender.

“Yeah, yeah, pretty girl. Go upstairs and wait for me, I’ll be right there,” he winks at you, slapping your ass as you turn on your heels, and you yelp as you run towards his stairs.

—

Your mind is racing as you reach his bedroom door. You slowly turn the knob and walk into his light gray colored walls, instantly feeling safe. You’ve been here countless times, under different circumstances, yet you don’t feel out of place - You feel like you’re supposed to be here. Like everything that you’ve been through has led to this moment.

As you move across the carpet, you stand in front of his dresser and you see two framed pictures of you and him - first one being a selfie in front of his house the night he bought it, the second one being an off guard photo of you and Joel talking the night of your party for your job. You never noticed that he had these framed, and as you bring your hand to it, a smile creeps on your face as you slightly shake your head in disbelief.

All of a sudden, you feel a pair of big soft arms hug across your waist, and his chin resting in the crook of your neck. “My favorite pictures of us…especially you. Your smile was the biggest I’d seen it in a long time in both of these,” Joel says, starting to kiss your neck softly in between his words. You fold into his touch instantly and you moan as he starts to suck a soft spot on your neck. His hands start to travel down to unbutton your jeans.

“I was so proud of you… I was so happy that you got the dream house you wanted. You deserve it,” you say between heavy breathing.

“Don’t downplay yourself, sweetheart. You worked your ass off to be where you are now and I just admire that,” You try to say something, but your mind and mouth won’t cooperate. “My dream wasn’t complete then but now that you’re here to stay. My dream is finally starting to come true,” he tells you, and you both look into his dresser mirror, making eye contact. You turn around swiftly in his grasp as you put your hands on his chest and push him towards his bed. The back of his knees hit the mattress and, as he sits down, his legs open and you stand between his thick thighs. He looks up into your eyes and smirks.

You smile back as you dip your head to slowly take your jeans off, when you bring your head back up to look at him, you grab his chin and pull him into a hot and heavy kiss - one of those kisses where yours and his tongue are exploring each other like it’s an addiction, while he grabs your ass and massages it.

That’s when he pulls you into his lap so you can straddle him. You start to rock your clothed clit back and forth on his growing hard on, while Joel’s calloused hands somehow feel soft as he grabs your ass and guides your movements. You can start to feel the wetness leak through your panties onto the bulge of his jeans, but that’s the least of your worries right now. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this pretty girl,” Joel says between kisses as one hand goes into your panties. He gathers your wetness and brings it back to your clit, rubbing circles causing you to shake.

“Me either,” is all you can say without becoming a moaning mess. You’re still rocking back and forth but with a new pace, one that Joel is setting. Initially, you wanted to be the one in control but you quickly changed your mind about that, it seems. You want Joel to be in complete control of you right now, you don’t even want to think about anything other than Joel. Always Joel. Only Joel.

Your train of thought is stopped quickly by Joel inserting two fingers into your dripping pussy. Your movements pause as you adjust to his fingers, your jaw dropping as a long moan comes out. “That’s my good girl,” Joel’s starts as he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you. You continue to grind on his fingers as he murmurs, “Gotta warm you up first, darlin’… I don’t wanna hurt you.” All you can do is nod and whine to him that you can take him, but he chuckles to himself. “Oh my pretty girl thinks she can take it, huh? Well, let’s see.”

Before he finishes his sentence, he’s pulling his fingers out of your pussy and flipping you over so you’re now on your back, with him towering over you. You giggle from how smoothly he did it, he then brings his fingers to your mouth so you can taste yourself. Without any hesitation, you open your mouth and let his fingers in as you suck on them. He moans when you make a mess with a mix of your own saliva and juices. Joel pulls his fingers away from your mouth with a pop and bends down to kiss you again, but this kiss is different. This somehow feels like a “I love you and I care for you” kind of kiss, one you reciprocate, wanting him to know you feel the same.

He slightly breaks the kiss so he can pull his jeans and boxers down, his cock springing onto his belly, dripping with precum. Your mouth drops when you notice all the veins he has, just hypnotized by the way it was throbbing for you. “You still sure you can take it baby?” Joel taunts as he sees you staring. Without even thinking, you grab his cock and start to slowly stroke him, and his head falls behind his shoulders, his body jerking as he moans.

“Yes, daddy, I can,” you taunt back with a smirk on your face. Once you say that, it’s like something primal snaps inside of Joel. He stops you from touching him, his hands rips off your panties, and throws them somewhere into the darkest corner of his room. Next thing you know, he’s lining his cock up to your throbbing, glistening pussy but he doesn’t put it in. Your arms are clawing at his back for him to make the move.

“You’re so impatient, baby. You gotta relax,” Joel drawls. Before you can come back with some smart ass remark, you feel him sliding his cock up and down your slit, creating a lewd mix of your juices and his precum. Your hips start to move with the rhythm of Joel’s, and it has the tip of his throbbing cock hitting your clit perfectly. You can already feel that tightening in your belly starting to form, turning you into a moaning mess.

His forearms are on either side of your head as he starts to suck and lick your neck again, having found the sweet spot that makes you cave for him every time. “Joel, don't stop. Fuck, baby,” you moan out, as you lift your hips just trying to get him to quit his teasing, he slowly starts to slide his cock into your needy pussy. He gets about halfway in, but has to stop, “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me baby girl,”.

“C’mon baby, move,” you whine as you claw at his back again, wrapping your legs around him and digging your heels into his hips. Your pussy is throbbing for more, so pent up that you’re getting impatient. “Fuck me, daddy,” you moan as you throw your head back into his soft pillows. Suddenly, you feel the other half of his throbbing cock split into you, and your legs let go of his hips as you yelp. He starts to pound your pussy, like you pleaded him to, the mixes of each other juices creating a loud slapping sound that echoes in the bedroom - you are losing your mind from that alone.

“This what you want needy baby? Just need daddy to give it to you rough.” Joel grunts as he grabs your right ankle and brings it to his shoulder, he holds your ankle in place with a hand as he starts to bite and kiss it while his other hand goes to your throat. You give him a smirk, telling him yes. He starts to squeeze the sides of your throat and you feel yourself start to get in a daze, before he lets go, then does it again.

You jolt a little bit when you feel his fingers from his other hand moving down to your clit. The mix of his fingers working on your clit, his cock hitting every spot you need it to, his words praising and degrading you, and him squeezing your throat has you seeing stars.

“Joel, fuck. I’m close, don’t stop, please,” is all you can say as you feel the tightness in your belly about to snap.

“Let it go sweet girl. Look at you, showing me you can take my cock and all,” he coos, and that’s all that it takes to send you over the edge.Your back arches as you moan Joel’s name over and over like a mantra, not ever wanting to forget him. Your body goes limp and your head is dizzy, when you feel him pull out and you both moan at the loss of each other's warmth, before he cums on your belly - moaning your name over and over like you did his.

—

Fucked out of your minds, Joel rolls off of you and both of you lay on your backs next to each other, just listening to one another’s breathing. You feel him get up from the bed as he walks to his bathroom, coming right back with a warm hand towel to clean you up. He gently rubs the towel and cleans you, then he throws the hand towel in the direction you know his hamper to be.

Joel grunts as he lays back down on his side to look at you, while you mimic his movements. This is the first time you’ve seen Joel with this post-fuck face he has, looking like he went to heaven and back. You hope you get to see more of him like this, just crumbling for you - He moves a piece of your hair behind your left ear and looks into your eyes.

“How’s that for ruining the moment?” you say without even thinking. You and Joel just start giggling again. ”Well, you’re two for zero right now..but you were right. You do make the memories better,” Joel is barely able to get out. After a little bit, a comforting hum from his rotating fan and both of your breathing, is all that can be heard as you stare at each other sincerely, you slowly move your body closer to Joel’s, wanting to feel him again. Joel wraps his arms around you like a delicate cocoon as you begin to slowly glide your fingers up and down his strong, yet gentle, arms. You slot your right leg between both his warm thighs, then you wrap your left leg around his hip.

The two of you are wrapped together like some kind of beautiful present you get on Christmas morning. As both of your breathing patterns and heart beats sync up, Joel kisses the top of your head and sleepily whispers, “I’m so glad you decided to stay, my love.”

You smile into his chest and hum, “Mhmm. Me too, Joel…me too.” You drift off into sleep feeling safe and loved while in Joel’s arms, Joel’s home, and Joel’s heart. Just you and Joel.

[prismatica-the-strange]

The End of the World as We Know It | Swing and Turn

Warnings: 18+, none

Pure Daryl and Loveday fluff.

Jubilee by Morningsiders | Banner By @saradika-graphics | Dividers by @firefly-graphics

"Found'ya somethin'," Daryl says, gently tossing her the bundle of fabric.

Loveday flashes him a smile before shaking out the thick wool coat in her hands, not realizing what it is for a moment, "Thanks... Uh... Why?"

He looks at her, confused, "Gettin' colder'n y'don' got'a coat."

"Oh," She's noticed him and the rest of Alexandria start layering up more and more each day despite it not dropping bellow fifty out.

"Know it ain't yer style, but I don' wan'a see you freeze on me."

She doesn't have the heart to tell him she'll probably never wear it as long as they live here, so she stands to kiss his cheek, "Thanks, baby."

Winter sets in quickly and the temperature continues to drop, but never going so low as to warrant wearing such a heavy coat.

He leaves it lying out for her on chillier mornings but always finds her later wearing a hoodie or flannel shirt instead.

One night, while she's sat in the window of their house, knitting and waiting for him to come back from a run, it starts to snow.

It's been years since she's seen snow and her heart swells. It isn't until it starts to stick to the grass does she finally decide to go out and enjoy it.

She's so caught up in the idea of being out in it she doesn't even put shoes on. The ground is cold under her feet, but she doesn't care, her big cardigan hanging loosely around her elbows.

She holds her arms out, eyes closing with a deep sigh as she slowly turns, big, wet snowflakes catching in her hair.

She lets herself pretend for a moment that she's twelve years old again and home. That it's late November and she's standing out in her own yard, looking over the valley just before it starts to storm.

The cold air is like an old friend she hasn't seen in ages but still knows her more intimately than any lover. It fills her lungs and runs through her veins. It's a part of her and it brings a strange peace to her heart.

She spends hours standing out in the flurry, smiling up at that clouded sky and earning strange looks from the neighbors.

Daryl and Rick drop off what little haul they have and start trudging back to the houses, their clothes covered in a mix of mud, sweat, melted snow, and walker blood.

They're cold and Daryl wants nothing more than to warm up in a hot shower.

"What the Hell is she doin'? Rick asks when they turn onto their street.

They both stop and watch Loveday spin and giggle in the falling snow.

"Isn't she cold?"

Daryl hums, wondering the same thing, "Girl's crazy. Pro'ly ain't even wearin' shoes."

"Looks like we've been spotted," Risk says when she stops.

"You guys look like a couple'a creepers standin' in the dark over there!" She calls and they start walking over to her.

"What're you doin' out here?" Rick asks and her smile widens.

"It's snowing."

"Yeah, and y'ain't wearin' no coat," Daryl grumbles. He grabs the lapels of her cardigan and roughly tugs it up to where it should be, pulling it closed in the front, "The hell're y'thinkin'?"

"Daryl, 'm fine," She assures him. She takes her hands in his, eyes widening at the feel of his fingers, "You're freezing!"

She rubs her hands on his fingers, bringing them up to her lips to blow on them and Rick snorts.

"Bet you're just as bad," She teases, snatching one of his hands, "Yeah thought so. You should both get inside 'fore you catch your death."

"How long you been out here?" Daryl asks.

"I dunno, awhile?" She shrugs and one of her sleeves falls again, "But I was bred fr' this weather, unlike you southern boys. How many layers you wearin' 'tween the two a'ya?"

"Not enough, apparently," Rick laughs, "I'm goin' in where it's warm."

"You too," She scolds Daryl playfully, pushing him to follow their friend, "Don't want'ya gettin' sick on me."

He huffs but does as she says, completely missing the mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Just as he's walking up to the porch steps she bends down, gathering a fistful of snow off the grass and shoves it down the collar of his shirt.

"Wh- Hey!" His shoulders tense at the sudden cold and he scrambles to try and get it out , eyes falling on her when she laughs, "Y'think that's funny?"

He tosses his crossbow aside and lunges at her, boot slipping in the grass when she bolts, "Com'ere!"

"Daryl- Shit!" She catches herself when she slips, screeching when his fingers graze her arm, "I'm sorry!"

"No! I'm sorry- I'm sorry!" She squeals in laughter when he catches her and lifts her off her feet against his chest.

"Y'think yer real funny, don't'ya?" He growls.

"Maybe?" She giggles, biting her lip.

"Yeah, well yer comin' with me, girlie."

She sets both mugs on the bedside table and flops on her stomach on their bed.

She flips to her page in her book and reads while she waits for him, feet kicking lazily in the air behind her by the pillows.

Daryl comes in a few minutes later, hair still damp and loose sweats hanging off his hips.

"Good shower?" She asks and he hums collapsing onto his back beside her, resting his arm behind his head.

"Be better if you were in there with me," He teases, his hand coming to rest on her ass.

They lay like that for a while, just enjoying each other's presence before she speaks up.

"Made you a hot drink, should still be kinda warm."

"Oh yeah?" He turns to the bedside table when she points and grabs one of the mugs, tugging on her sweater to get her to sit up next to him against the headboard.

She pushes herself up to do so, bringing her book with her, and tucks herself against his chest.

"Shit," He mumbles when he takes a sip, "That's fuckin' good."

"Better be," She chuckles, "Got into my period stash to make it."

"Didn' have'ta..."

"I know," She reaches for her own mug, cradling it in her hands, "Jus' thought you'd like somethin' sweet."

"Don' need sweets," He says with a small nod, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "Already got you."

"Shut up!" She groans, hiding her smile against his neck, making him laugh.

[butterphii]

Neighborly Love

TW: love marks (biting, scratches, hickeys), age gap (18-20, 56), crushes, oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, sweetheart, hun, babydoll, sweetie), just sex, talking through

Again, before outbreak.

--------------------Joel Miller--------------------

You waited patiently outside of your neighbor, Joel, 's house, admiring the still shiny baby blue paint on the siding, the roof a dark gray and blue mix.

You had been in a trance sort of state when Joel opened the door, talking to you with visible concern when you didn't answer the first few times.

"Hey, what's up, hun?" "Hello? Are you alright?" "Do I need to call them cops or somethin'?" He said repeatedly, waving his hand in front of your face before you woke.

"Oh," You exclaimed, snapping back into your body. "Yeah, uh..I just wanted to know, uh..if Sarah was here?" You asked him softly, admiring one other thing now, his gorgeous face. You've had a 'crush' on Joel for a while now, but you refused to call it that and refused even more to act on it.

"Oh, no, baby, she's left for the next week. You wanna come in? I just made some steaks that look awful good and smell even better. We can watch a movie, too, if you'd like." Joel said in his gravely yet charming southern accent. "Oh, sure! That sounds good, since I am pretty hungry." You smiled at him, your pearly teeth caught in his gaze, you both making eye contact before going inside.

"This steak looks absolutely delightful, sweetie!" He giggled to you, his soft laugh giving you butterflies. You took a seat on the barstool next to him, watching him char the meat with ease. Your mouth watered as Joel, the man you've been basically in love with for months, tilted his weight side to side and his legs looking amazing in his tight jeans, his shirt arms rolled up, revealing the dark gray hair on them, his veiny hands gripping the tongs and pan, you just imagining them on your body while he does some nasty things to you.

He flipped them onto two plates, grabbing your hand and leading you to his living room. "This the humble abode!" He chuckled, his hand on your back, rubbing softly and patting hard. You gulped down a confession of your love before sitting down on the couch.

Joel turned something on that seemed interesting to you both, his legs spread and his plate sitting where his dick should be. You couldn't help but stare while you ate. You pretending the meat in your mouth was his dick, you chewing it less and sucking on it more.

"Joel, I need to tell you something." You forced out. "Whats up, babydoll? Is something wrong with the food?" He asked, turning to you, his voice soft and gentle. "N-no, it's about..uh..me to you," You let out again, nervous. "I-I really like you, Joel. Like, like-like. As in..I want you to be my boyfriend." The words just spilled out of your mouth. You can't believe you just said that all so fast, and you can't believe how much better it felt when you finally said it.

"B-baby, I-" He chuckled, his cheeks flushed with red, before leaning in close to you, and kissing you softly. When he pulled back you pushed yourself into him, you body on top of his, at this point.

Then, when you pulled back, your body comfortably sat on his, sort of pinning his arms down, but you not even being close to that level of strength. "I like you too, sweetie." He kissed you again, the heat of black pepper and body heat on his lips burning yours lightly but you didn't care. All you cared about was that you finally, hopefully, had a chance with the man of your dreams, Joel Miller.

His hands roamed your back while yours were fisting his shirt, messing it up before taking it off completely. He eventually did the same to you. You kissed your way down his body, the same way you imagined him to in your dreams, your mouth lingering over his barely carved abs.

You used your quick and steady hands to unzip and unbutton his jeans, pulling the tight denim down to his lower thighs, his already erect cock still in his boxers, but very clearly about to break out of their imprisonment.

You, again, quickly pulled of his boxers, getting a good look at his dick. You gasped softly at the sight of the massive, veiny member in front of you, looking exactly as you imagined it to. Perfectly perfect.

You kissed the tip and down the back side of it, making your way down it, fisting and licking his balls before making your way back up them. You licked the precum off his tip before sucking it into your mouth. He let out a long and deep groan, his large hands on the back of your head, bobbing you up and down.

Joel's hips bucked up into you, mouth fucking you. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna..fuck.." He groaned his grip getting harder on your head, shoving you all the way down his cock, cumming in your throat. You swallowed all of it before Joel moved you both into a position where he was on top and your legs wrapped around his waist.

"These are in the way, babydoll." He was talking about your pants. He slid them off, throwing them on the floor while admiring your beautiful pussy through your lace panties.

"You've got the most gorgeous pussy, baby." He chuckled, his voice gravely. He positioned himself against your entrance, teasing it with his tip before putting it in halfway. Your hips bucked at the feeling.

His head leaned down against your neck, biting and sucking on it, leaving hickeys and bite marks all over your neck and shoulders. He then put his whole cock inside of you, the sensation throwing you through a world you only had in your dreams. "You're doin' so fucking good, baby, just like that, take my cock into that pretty pussy o' yours..fuck." He praised you, his thick accent coming through once more.

He slammed into you with insane power, your walls tightening as you orgasmed, cumming on his dick. "Fuck, yeah, baby. You cum on my cock.." He groaned into your ear, still pounding into you.

You head layed back, you tired and spent while this gorgeous man praised you and destroyed your pussy. You started to grind your hips against him before he groaned that he was ready to cum again. You went a little faster, using his body as an anchor to keep you semi-still while you rode him, increasing speed with each moan and loud, low groan.

You sat down on him, your nails scratching at his back and shoulders while he spilled his seed into you. You both yelled out "Fuck" in unison, you both bursting into a fit of tired laughter.

[trashlama]

YAN!FUTURE!DONNIE X READER!!

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Heeeeeeyyyyy guess whose back!

This is a part of I guess this series of one shots I got going on. →This post can explain more←

This is the image I used for Donnie in this one. ↓

Art isn't mine but the design is radical!

Sorry this took so long. Honestly I almost didn't post it cause I didn't like how it came out. Like I kept trying to fix it to how I like it buuutt, this was the best that I could do. I might try rewriting it or somethin'. I was just trying to change it up buuutt, I suck. Did my best with the proof reading. Probably could have tried to proof read it more.

Honestly this fic is pretty dark. Originally was darker.

Please no minors, 18+ only!(There's no smut or anything sexual, just a lot of technically triggering elements)

The meme in this fic is not mine I just found them on Pinterest and they were too good.

Read the creator's notes below for more!

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Humming computer fans and diligent typing filled the silent void in the poorly lit room. If not for the obscured ominous glow of the various monitors littering the labatory you would've believed you had gone completely blind. Having already lost the vision on your right to the slimy pink tentacle bastards who transformed your planet into the living Hell on Earth.

Guess religion was right about something. At The End of Days the devil came for the damned. And in spite of your mother's faithful beliefs, there was never a savior to come swop away the righteous to the selective pearly gates of the Heaven she had mindlessly prayed to. She was wrong. Her savior locked her out.

There would be no salvation. Not for anyone.

Instead for the first thirteen years after the Krrang's invasion you suffered. Everyone suffered.

Shit hit the fan and it splattered like a chocolate pie in bad clown gag.

Overnight the world you had grown up in changed for the worse. Blind to the way society crumbled and turned into a Mad Max film. Unaware of the great loss. Naive and young you weren't prepared for the grotesque violence that replaced your boring mundane life that you had taken for granted.

How you wish there was a way to go back.

Return to days where your only worries were filling out job applications to move out of your mother's abode and getting into a good college. Begging whatever deities listened to accept you to one of the variety of schools you had applied for. Preferably one more than five hundred miles away from the run-down neighborhood in the Bronx you lived in. You've always wanted to travel the country and college opened up that opportunity to do so. Had everything gone according to plan you would've started your first semester that following fall.

Though it wasn't meant to be. Instead you spent that lonely winter, grieving

" (Y/n) "

At the call of your name the chain that hung from around your neck clanked as a single (e/c) orb snapped out of its routine day-dreams to look towards the owner of the tired deep voice that had called to you. It was Donatello. Said ninja turtle kneeling at your side next to the cot you both shared.

Within the nest of sheets you retracted from the curled position you had been laying in on top of the bed spread. A multi-paterned stitched quilt gifted by one of the softshell turtle's brothers— you forget who; rested at your feet, unused. Protecting thin (skin tone) skin from the piercing cold was a worn pair of faded PJs that consisted of a dark green long sleeve with fluffy grey plaid bottoms. The odd attire didn't bother you in the slightest. When living in the apocalypse fashion hardly matters. If it was usable it was wearable.

Despite of your efforts to block the aged mutant out by focusing your lone (e/c) gaze on soothing else. The Large cold hand of Donatello's petting the top of your head was all your traumatized receptors could focus on. Three lengthy jade digits combing rouge strands of unkept (h/l) (h/c) hair away from their position in your face. Wandering fingertips skimmed over your missing right eye. Playing with the white medical eye patch that kept the old wound hidden. Had this been seven months ago you would've already been trying to bite the technological General's scared appendage off. Though now at this point you just let the mutant do whatever. You didn't care.

The same regard was held when the purple clad turtle observed you. Anything and everything that flashed across your face was cataloged by your analyzing capter's dark narrowed stare. A common occurrence that never faltered in its repetitiveness.

Exhaustion dominated the aged jade complexion of Donatello's. His expression would be read bored if not for the controlled obsession that lurked in pools of night.

You always did like his eyes. Even when they were hidden behind the dual frames perched on his snout. One half a traditional prescription lens the other a crimson infrared optic that provided extra assistance to the current wearer. Like a moth to the flame you were drawn to the night sky he held in those dark pools.

"You're wasting the food Mikey brought you" the softshell flatly chastised. Those same magnetic dark eyes that had been locked with yours turned away momentarily to retrieve something from beside him. The tattered greyish purple cloak he wore tied loosely around his sturdy shoulders draped forward revealing the silver cybertronic mechanical substitute for his left arm. A necessary loss for the cause he dutifully worked for.

You hadn't respond to his comment.

For a moment you began to sink back into your land of memories if it had not been for the scrapping metal of the fork against the plate that was now in the purple bandana wearing turtle's grasp. Stabbing at the rations that the commissary passed out earlier that day. At least you're assuming it's day. It's hard to tell when you never leave the underground base, let alone the prison of Donatello's lab that doubled as his quarters.

Back in reality something moist pressed against your bottom lip.

"Eat."

Robotically you obeyed.

You learned a long time ago that starving doesn't work. It was this or the feeding tub. At least this didn't hurt your throat. The ache in your esophagus from the experience lasted for weeks after. Bile threatening to rise if you focused any longer on the nightmarish memory.

Up till the plate was cleared the mutant continued to feed you. Picking at the dish's portions until there was nothing left. After which the adult ninja turtle placed the cutlery to the side before taking a corner of his faded cloak to wipe away the food residue left around your mouth. Repeating the same method with the plastic cup that sat precariously on the table to the other side of you next to the cement wall.

For a moment his calculative narrowed gaze stared at you before deciding something.

"...I have to go work on the faulty pump in the filter for the hydroponic system in the Agriculture Unit later...." Thick brows frowed together in an unsure manner upon his purple-clad forehead as he continued. ".....would you be interested in joining me for the endeavor?" The aged ninja finally prompted.

You didn't respond.

Had this been seven months ago you would've replied with an immediate yes. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Back then you would've thought somebody, anybody, would help you.

But if that were the case you would've been free already.

It wasn't necessarily a secret that you belonged to the purple bandana wearing brainiac. On the contrary it was a well known fact amongst the inhabitants of the base. It was just an unspoken topic. An issue that the Commander and the rest of the generals much rather sweep under the rug than to confront.

You learned it the hard way.

You had managed to get away somehow after Donatello first claimed you. Before the chained leash that pooled around you became a permanent fixture. In its place there had been a small amount of leeway the softshell gifted you. A fragile trust you didn't bother to strengthen prior to your attempt two months into your captivity. Maybe things would've been different.

You had told Donnie you were just gonna go to the commissary and get them some lunch. Claimed you were trying to be a nice, good partner. You didn't want to disturb the important work you were so proud of him for. Like a termite at Home Depo he ate it up. A bashful smile stretched across his jade complexion that was burnt red.

Playing the serpent who tricked Adam, you slithered from the technological garden of paradise. Departing with a false display of affection. Pride filled you from the phenomenal performance you gave.

Taking flight to the wind you ran down the Resistance headquarters hallways. Without meaning too you lost yourself around the twist and turns of unfamiliar corridors. Your limited vision and even less knowledge of the section's layout not being of much aid to your mission. Especially since prior to your imprisonment you hadn't ventured to this area since it was restricted to Resistance officers way above your ranking.

Though your plan was to run into someone. Anyone who could help you. You were gonna rat out that purple techno creep. He needed to pay. You were fed up with this stupid apocalypse.

Eventually after sprinting down the halls for God knows how long. You found your self face first into the plastron of General Michelangelo.

"Wwhooo! Slow down little missy! You're gonna give this old man a scare!" The greying box turtle joked even though you weren't very much younger than him. Catching your charging figure easily between rough moss palms. Out of breath you began spewing your story. Begging the mystic mutant to help you get away from his crazy purple coded brother.

"Oooohh, so yoouurr (Y/n)..." The youngest general gathered. Aged face scrunching up in a contemplative way, as if he was thinking. For a moment you had thought maybe the mutant turtle knew who you were cause somebody had reported your missing presence. Realized that you had been stolen by one of the very leaders they worked under. Unfortunately that was not the case.

"Yes! I'm (Y/n)! Your brother Donatello, he—"

"Said that if you got lost to return you to him!~"

What.

It was too late to retreat. You didn't even have the chance to react before the orange clad General had you on the ground. Wind punched from your lungs by the sudden force. Mouth mimicking a fish out of water as you gasped for much needed air. Next thing you knew your hands were bound behind your back by the same orange bandana wearing mutant you sought aid from. Kicking and screaming as the moss green Hamato sibling dragged you back to where you had started.

Entering the lab Michaelangelo greeted his flabbergasted older brother. Sporting a wide cheshire grin as he released his grip on you to only then in the same motion push your unbalanced wobbly stature forward caching yourself on Donatello's chest. Leaving shortly after with some sort of fucked up quip you couldn't hear past the pounding in your ears. Heart jackhammering painfully against your ribs. The beat too powerful for any other sound to break it's dominating rythem.

Were you about to have a heart attack?A stroke? You couldn't tell. You didn't think people your age had them.

Once left alone the white hot fury you had expected never came. No beating. Nor any dismemberment of a limb. There were no threats made for your dire transgression. No shouts or screams of possessive anger. Only unnerving still silence.

Somehow that was worse.

You lied. You tried to leave. You made a scene with his younger brother only for said orange clad sibling to drag you back like the dog who got out.

The first ten–fifteen minutes you both just stood there. There were no excuses nor pleading from your part. Just utter overwhelming suffocating quite. The jade and purple tattooed complexion of the General's who stood before you was drained to match snow. Face displaying a composed, conserved expression to anyone who was looking in from the outside.

Unfortunately for you it was always Donatello's dark eyes that gave everything away.

Hurt. He was undeniably wounded by the injury. You broke the thin veil of trust he gave you. You could have done whatever you wanted. As long as you didn't stray far from him. Stayed and supported him. It was all he wanted.

The softshell was so happy when you forged that lie believing the act to be true. Believing that you cared about his health and work. Being kind and supportive enough to trek and retrieve both of your guys' lunch. Except upon his younger mutant brother's arrival the fantasy he was living in was broken. It was all a lie. You deceived him. Betrayed the tempered trust that two of you shared. A thin string you willing snipped.

Saltwater streaks poured down in silent bunches as the aged ninja turtle lowered his head. He really thought you had loved him as you whispered sweet claims from soft deceiving lips that kissed his heated cheek a farewell. Departing with that smile that made his heart race. Donatello was hurt. And so the turtle did the only thing that would hurt you just as much as you had hurt him.

Had you known what he was going to do maybe you would've fought harder than you had.

No words were exchanged as the mutant scientist tied your jittery limbs to your paralyzed figure. Plastic white ties zipped painfully tight around (skinned tone) appendages. Though fear hadn't taken it's full course until the softshell began to secure a thick fabric around your head, blinding you. Finding the immediate endless world of black frightening.

"Please— don't do this— I-I'm sorry!" You plead as large cold hands slide a set of what you assume are noise canceling buds into your ears. You couldn't catch your breath. Your heart wouldn't still itself as it fought for space within your ribcage. "Please! I— mphmfh!"was all you could cry before lastly a gag was stuffed into your teriffied jaws. Based on the texture of the rough fabric you deduced it was most likely an old gym sock from the clothing bin. The worn garment scratched at the roof of your mouth making you taste cooper.

Donnatello hadn't planned to use this method this early on but, this was a lesson that needed to be learned. He was going to deprive you of your senses. Leave you lost just as he would've been without you. Maybe then you'd understand.

For some time you were just scared shitless. Frightful of the purple coded general's unknown intentions. Was he gonna torture you? Kill you and keep the body? The imaginary list was much more scary than the actual first quarter of the punishment . Thankfully nothing happened. The turtle left you be. Probably just watching you from his typical spinny chair from in front of the large monitor dominating the room. The motherfucker probably felt like Batman or some shit sipping on his coffee as you the Joker— fucked around in the holding tube.

When the endless darkness started to pick at your already aggravated anxiety you had tried to force yourself asleep to escape the void. However you found the effort quickly fruitless. Trapped without sound or any background stimulation aside from the limited range of touch at your disposal made the task feel impossible. Dissolving lines between real and what was not becoming harder to differentiate with every passing unknown second.

Attempts to keep your sanity felt futile in spite of efforts to keep the screws forming coming loose. Clawed (skin tone) palms and curling toes only did so much. When all else failed you felt only one thing could be done. You need to feel something. Anything. You couldn't do this anymore. The scratches in your palms did not suffice.

Doing what you felt was your only choice in your spiralling panic. You began to throw yourself around across the lab's tile floor. Using your upper body and knees you inch worm around the room. Purposely banging yourself into anything and everything so you may injure yourself. Feeding your starved receptors with whatever painful sensations you could produce.

Donatello was quick to remove the suppressors once you really started injuring yourself. Most likely calling it when the various wounds littered your (s/c) skin began to form. Following the path you had squirmed eyes like La Brea tar pits found speckles of crimson decorating a variety of the objects in his workspace. As if a baby crawled around repainting his lab with dots of red.

What a pain. Couldn't you have just accepted the punishment like an adult? Now he was gonna have to clean up this mess later. But alas just as many great minds of science had taught him. There was always a price to be paid for results. Maybe he should've just thrown you into solitary or made a modification or two to your Achilles tendons.... Next time.

Cold hands without delay discarded the ear buds and spit soaked sock. Your chest was still rising too fast. You were gonna puke if you stayed any longer in the dark. Though once the blind fold was discarded the softshell turtle's concerned expression was the first thing you saw. The sight of another instantly calming the bees stabbing your stomach lining. A flash of worry glimmered in those pools of ink. Only for the emotion to be consumed by the sticky black tar that lurked beneath.

"Did you learn your lesson?" The purple tattooed turtle questioned softly as he scooped your zip tied bound form into his mix matched arms. Combination of flesh and steel cradling you as he maneuvered towards his cot. Donatello was aware that you have one too but, recently the color coded general had been considereing just having you sleep with him. It'd save him space.

"I doubt it." he chided with a small grin that didn't match his eyes as he laid you down. Tucking you into his barely used sheets.

You didn't bother to request for him to remove the plastic bonds as exhaustion dragged you into the realm of slumber. Senses finally relaxing thanks to some stimulation. Allowing the phantom hand caresse the curve of your cheek as you drifted away.

When you awoke your injuries were bandaged and the plastic that had restrained you was gone. In the zip ties stead was a steel collar and chain hooped around the deadbolt installed in the cool tiled floor of the purple brainiac's lab. The same device you wore to this present day.

"(Y/n).... (Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)....."

"(Y/n)"

Oh no you got lost in your memories again didn't you? Based on the softshell's expression, your answer would be yes.

"(Y/n)... I think you should come with me when I go to the farming unit. I think it'd be good for you ....and maybe we'll even see Leon and Casey Jr. " Donnie soothed. His large cold hand returning at some point continued to comb the wild flyaways that tried to elude his threading jade fingers.

You didn't care. You bobbed your head. Listening but, not particularly agreeing nor disagreeing to anything as you went along with the general's wishes.

°°°°°°

In the hallway you and Donatello walked side by side. Your collar and chain were gone. Left behind in the lab due to the bondage being bolted to the floor. Not very mobile. Which in turn left you shackle free for the trip. Seven months ago you would've already tried to attack the turtle like the wild dog you were. You had been.

Now the tamed rescue, you leapt and barked without hesitation when commanded.

Like a good pup you didn't stray from your master's side.

Traversing through the base with the lumbering mutant was a quiet affair. No one bothered the two of you as the purple clad genuis led the way.

Here and there the technological general would make small talk by commenting about certain functions found throughout the headquarters along the short journey. Explaining uses of faculties and tech that had been constructed long before you ever stepped foot in the Resistance headquarters.

Long before you ever met the softshell who kept you prisoner in his room. Like a toy a spoiled child didn't want to share.

Pushing open the floppy doors to the Ag unit; bright UV rays burned your sensitive retinas that grew unconditioned to direct sunlight due to the dark room you were trapped in on a daily. Although unlike you, Donatello's dark narrowed stare remained unfazed by the bright light. Not even a stinge of discomfort upon disciplined matured features.

Artificial warmth even if false still felt soothing on your cold (skin tone) skin.

How you missed the real thing.

Missed the stupid picnics your mother would force you on. Laying under shady emerald trees in the smothering New York summer heat under a bright blue sky. Pouting as you watched your mother and brother played on the playground. You used to think those family outings were a waste of your time when you could be hanging with your friends or studying. Be anywhere but with them. How foolish you were.

A small frown laced your lips as you recalled the more peaceful days.

"(Y/n) this way" Donatello's voice called from in front of you. At some point having grabbed your hand to pull you closer to his tall stature as he escorted the two of you through the rows of growing produce. The tips of his long purple bandana tickled your nose but you made no complaints.

"Donnie over here!"

Onwards he directed you along.

Off in the near distance was the blue clad Commander. On his shelled back was a raven haired child that looked no more than nine.

"Oi! Casey Jr can you please be un bueno niño(a good little boy)!" The leader begged as the afro mentioned brown-eyed boy tugged at the long tied strands to his azure mask. Tighting the fabric painfully around his head. Giggling at his guardian's torment. "Nah! This is so much fun el anciano(old man) " Casey cheered, showing off a wide chipped tooth grin. A recent cosmetic development much to Leo's jargon.

Back and forth the two went as you and Donatello approached the comedic duo. The softshell grown a small grin on his normally uninterested expression.

" Thank Gram Gram you're here Donnie! The pump to the filter finally said capoot! And—"

"Yeah I know that's why I'm here." The jade colored turtle cut off his Commander.

Leonardo didn't mind his brother's injection. Smile still present upon olive skin.

"Alright-o dear brother-o! I'll leave you to it."

As the two siblings continued to chat over the needed maintenance, the raven haired boy leaning over the lumbering leader's shoulder stared straight at you. Eyes like teddy bear plushies bore into your being as they watched. Wide and impressionable. Brown judging spheres.

You could feel the bugs scuttling under your skin again.

"(Y/n)..., (Y/n) are you listening?"

Breaking from the losing staring competition you were having with the nine year old. Knowing dark eyes like night drew your attention back to the mutant who was cradling your hand between his own odd pair.

Once the scientist was sure he had all of you here he repeated his directions. " (Y/n) I want you to hangout out here for a little while I work. The pump requires more attention than I had initially thought..." Jade eyelids closed for a moment as the mutant exhaled his stored breath. " ...if you need me you can ask Leo. He had said he and Casey had some things to do here for a bit anyways so he doesn't mind watching you."

You didn't care. It was just nice being outside that damn lab in general.

With the nod of your head Donatello allowed your smaller hand free from his mix matched grasp. " I'll be back soon. If you get too hot tell Leo and he'll take you inside to cool down." The turtle further explained. It was like he wasn't sure if he could depart from you. Even if he was only temporarily leaving you under his twin's supervision. He still didn't like the idea of not having you beside him as he worked. However the space in the room with the filter was limited. Although Donnatello would prefer to have you in sight. Genius does take a little finesse and he always performed best with space.

With one more glance the softshell turtle turned and left. Walking towards the small building far off in the corner of the massive underground green house.

Once gone you were left standing there. Unmoving like a puppet without it's puppeteer.

You guess you stood there for too long cause at some point the Leonardo approached and rested his palm on your clothed shoulder. Probably making sure you're still there before his olive palm spirited away.

Hands very much like Donatello's. Too much like Donnie's. The touch made you shutter. You hated it. You hated the jade turtle who did this to you.

Based on the Commander's look you could tell he wanted to ask if you were good. Though the question would be pointless when the answer was as obvious as the dirt that coated the thin fabric of your eggshell colored slip-on flats.

"Sensei why is that weird girl that General Donnie brought only got one eye? Is she a pirate?" Casey Jr inquired not aware of the offensive statement he constructed.

The blue clad leader flicked his retainee's forehead. Lightly punishing the child as he chastised the raven haired boy for the rude question. "Casey Jr that's not how we talk about people. Especially ladies. If you have a question you ask them politely. " The retainer informed. Dark onyx eyes too similar to that of his brainac twin's slid back to your cemented figure.

You were waiting.

With an awkward grin Leo proposed that you join him and Casey Jr on their check up on the Agricultural workers. You didn't respond, just nodding to whatever the aged ninja turtle had suggested.

Around the large farming area that had to be as big, if not bigger than old New York City's Grand Central Station. The red eared slider led you and Casey Jr around as he performed leader duties. The task not being that tedious if it wasn't for the raven haired kinder who wouldn't leave you be. The orphan kept asking too many personal questions for your taste. None of which you responded too. Though that didn't mean it stopped the nine year old from chatting your ear off.

For what felt like forever Casey Jr went on about, everything. There wasn't a single topic he stuck to. Bouncing from asking about how you knew General Donnie to do you always wear pajamas? What was your favorite food? Do you have any parents? What's your favorite game in the rec room?

The kid was gonna be the death of you if not the UVs that were starting to roast you. The faded winter sleeping attire you wore not necessarily the best outfit to be clothed in while under the artificial rays. Though you didn't complain. Didn't want to miss this opportunity to be outside of the technological General's lab.

You weren't ready to go back to the darkness. Not yet.

A single (E/c) colored orb found itself focused on the sudden opportunity presented.

You didn't have to go back as long as you did this right. You could be free. You couldn't fuck this up again. Not again. The anxiety of the looming punishment sat in the back of your mind. Giggling. A child-like tone mocking you for your thoughts of freedom. Reminding you if you escaped something worse could happen. Would happen.

Blood trickled down the (skin tone) surface of your chin. You had accidentally chewed your bottom lip to ground beef with your nervous tick, again.

Using the right sleeve of your pajama shirt you wiped away the oozing crimson fluid.

"Are you okay (Y/n)?" Casey's high but worried voice broke you from your scheming thoughts.

Looking down at Casey Jr's baby checks that had been holding a wide chipped smile instead thinned out into a tight frown. Wide brown orbs innocently peered up at you with concern.

For a moment you didn't reply.

Looking past the apocalyptic born child observing the interaction between Leo and the worker he spoke to. Gageing how much longer you had before the Commander returned from the discussion.

" I'm fine... but, ....do you think you could help me with something Casey? "

°°°°°°°

When his softshell twin asked him if he could watch (Y/n) while he worked on the hydroponic filter pump. The red eared slider was not gonna lie, he was not looking forward to the task. Already having his own gremlin running a muck the last thing the blue clad Commander wanted was a creepy-ass robot following them around.

However whenever it came to Donnie and (Y/n) being involved in the same situation there was hardly room for argument. Leo was the leader of the Resistance he swore that he'd do his best to help end this apocalypse and to do so he needed a functional base. That entailed having a controlled food supply, functioning weaponry, dormitories, facilities— the works. If anything was to go down. The blue bandana wearing mutant only has one reliable individual who could repair, design, modify— you name it. In less time than a whole team of engineers and mechanics he could whip up— combined. Only Donnie could do it. It's cause of the afro mentioned scientist and his inventions that the Krrang hadn't taken them out yet. The aged blue bandana wearing turtle wasn't actually sure how long they could fend off the pink tentacle armada without his softshell twin.

The thought keeps him on edge sometimes— what if the turtle passed or chose not to use his gift the way he does. They'd be screwed in the long run. The turtle imagines it would be similar to that of ant colony walking into a spider's nest. The carnage would be unsalvageable. They'd have to use the last resort.

He couldn't afford for shit to go sideways.

And sometimes if that meant sacrifices... for the greater good so be it. It was something the mutant leader wasn't proud of.

Leo isn't even really sure when the purple clad mutant even met (Y/n) or how. Donnie kept mostly to himself. Never straying far from his lab and a working coffee machine. So the fact the caffine addicted nerd met someone, let alone a girl. Truly made the phenomenon a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes.

He knew what he was doing when Donnie made his ultimatums. It was (Y/n) or no base. The softshell mutant was aware the kind of game he was playing. How it would affect everyone. So many would be lost because the adult ninja turtle wanted to throw a tantrum. Leonardo was ashamed but, it was necessary. He had to give in to the mad scientist's demands. The olive skinned mutant would like to say he had no choice— But he did. And he chose to keep the Resistance alive rather than allowing you to be free. He couldn't. Donnie wanted you and so you were the purple clad General's. There was no room for negotiations. The softshell was always stubborn like that. He played the odds in his favor. He'd let the whole base crumble if it meant he couldn't have you.

And for the last year, that was that.

Leonardo knew that Donatello was keeping you in his lab and that at some point over the last twelve months the workspace began to double as the jade turtle's quarters as well.

Only discovering the new development when visiting his purple color coded brother one day. The blue bandana wearing leader doesn't remember what he had gone to his sibling's work space for but, once inside he found the usual cluttered layout. However off closer to the far wall in the direct line of sight was the (Blonde/Brunette/Raven or Scarlet Haired/ Etc) tribute his brother had demanded for.

This had been when the (e/c) eyed woman still had her own bed. Though at some point after your escape attempt that had been thwarted by Mikey. He remembered because of the presence of the steel restraints that you typically wore when in Donnie's laboratory.

In the corner you were laying down. Hands obviously bound behind your back. The (h/c) haired captive probably scratched her neck raw again. His theory only confirmed upon closer inspection. Beneath the steel collar a dressing of white gauze. Though that wasn't the only injury. Like a Christmas present you were wrapped almost head to toe in the cotton bandages. Most likely caused by other attempts to break free from your bonds which backfired. Resulting in Donnie just further inhibiting your mobility.

Sometimes he doesn't understand why the softshell turtle did what he does. If he loved you, why did he let you hurt yourself like this? The technological General's plan was to rid you of your will. Like the mustang in stables he was gonna break that need to be free. You would be his. The aged purple coded mutant wouldn't accept anything less.

It was creepy how his sciencey twin doted on his feral captive. How even when discussing the condition of the base the crippled mutant still gravitates towards your curled up figure. In spite your attempts to chomp off his jade digits the Donnie still continued to glide his fingers through (h/c) strands. The action was bizarre to the red eared slider. He couldn't relate but if this kept the softshell from throwing the headquarters into the destructive hands of the Krrang. So be it.

Which brings Leo back to the current task at hand. Watching both Casey Jr and his brother's captive as he did his patrols of the agricultural production. He needed to start getting a feel of the ratio amount of crops so he knew how to plan for the Resistance's future. Winter was gonna be coming soon and scavenging in the snow was not an easy feat. Especially with pink tentacle freaks and the assimilated around every lurking corner up on the surface.

Leo was sure that this was gonna be a pain in the shell however to his surprise he found some entertainment out of the one sided conversation Casey Jr was having with you.

Regardless of the lack of your response, the raven haired boy kept bombarding you with rounds of endless questioning. Like twenty-one questions but, with more like five hundred-fifty-five questions. It was hilarious. Many times as he was communicating with his subordinates he would over hear Casey Jr spout something random. Comedic prompting caused the mutant leader to muffle his chuckles on a few occasions. The action earned him a raised brow or two from a couple of agricultural workers.

Everything was fun and games, until it wasn't.

Leo had been strolling down one of the many select rows of dirt walkways onto the next location he needed a report from. He had been listening to his live comedy show when he noticed the lack of quips from his adolescent charge. That's when he peeked over his broad shoulder, only to find nothing but the dirt path beneath his feet. Casey Jr and (Y/n) nowhere to be found.

That's when suddenly shit turned into a real life Lou Jitsu movie with a plot twist that kept the viewer at the edge of their seat. Except for Leo this wasn't a Lou Jitsu movie. He fucked up. Shit wasn't just gonna line up and all his problems would be solved. No. Hot Soup he had to solve this himself. The Resistance Commander gripped the inside pockets of his loose fitted beige pants. A small amount of anxiety rose at the possible implication of the duo's absence meant.

Now the blue clad mutant was aware he was the sharpest tool in the shed but he knew some things. For example, you wanted to leave. Casey Jr knew how to leave the base. Leo taught him in case of emergency if the red eared slider himself or someone else wasn't present to assist the child. Said afro mentioned charge wanted you to respond to his pestering. And the Resistance leader was distracted by the comedic routine and his patrols to notice the disappearance of the two-man comedic troupe he had been chaperoning.

The grown ninja turtle knew what you were doing. If his hypothesis was correct—

You were trying to use Casey Jr to escape.

The blue bandana wearing turtle internally scolded himself for his stupidity. He knew you wanted to escape. He shouldn't have let his guard down just because of your meek unresponsive domineer and his humorous charge.

Donatello was gonna kill him if he didn't find you before the purple clad mutant was finished repairing the pump. Which at this point was any minute.

Taking a deep breath of air Leonardo calmed his startled nerves. The mutated Commander had no reason to stress. He could handle this easily. Reminding himself that he taught Casey Jr how to flee from the base. If that truly was the case this retrieval should be a walk in the park.

Cursing his luck under his breath the olive skinned turtle dashed off in the suspected direction that you and Casey had traveled. Unaware of inky orbs following his brother's retreating figure. Ignorant to the irritated displeasure that burned within the tary pits.

°°°°°°°°

As a kid your mother the ever devoted follower— used to warn you about making deals with demons and wicked imps. They'd offer whatever you wished for just a simple price before snatching away your soul. Never would you ever reach the kingdom in the clouds with her and your brother Ethan(I know so creative). Now adult, you knew that stuff was a crock of shit— but as a starry-eyed child with all the hopes and no crushed self esteem, you believed it. Though now as you traversed through disgusting sewer waste you can honestly say that it was a possibility. How else did you end up in this mess? You rolled the dice with the jade devil and now you couldn't pay.

"(Y/n)? .....Were you even listening?"

Without even realizing it you drifted off into your thoughts again an occurrence that only seemed to become more frequent the longer you stayed in that base. In that lab. With the purple bandana wearing turtle who betrayed your trust.

Hopefully after this you wouldn't have to worry about that mutated swindler ever again.

"Sorry.. I was just thinking about something...could you repeat what you said again?" You asked glancing down at your miniature guide, a tight smile presented on your (skin tone) face. It's been a while since you had to play nice.

It was selfish but, you had no other choice. You'd never have this opportunity again. You only had one way out. No one else was gonna help you. Push came to shove you were willing to do whatever it took to flee from the purple clad demon who wouldn't leave you be.

" Dios miós! I-iii aaasked why you're tryinna' to leave this base? Isn't everyone like, tryinna' to get in the base not out? " The doomsday child inquired. Emphasizing his question with a dramatic arched brow and one big questioning eye. The expression very animated. The kid likely picked up the look from a old salvaged comic from the Resistance headquarters' communal library.

Not prepared for the sudden insightful line questioning from the nine year old who up until now had been just asking whatever seemed to pop into his head.

With a forced grin you replied. "You wish." Teasing the now pouting child before continuing. "Though if you must know. I'm gonna go see some family." You lied releasing a tired exhale as your sole (e/c) orb looked around the seemingly empty canels that Casey was accompanying you through. Claiming that he only knew the way based on the look of the surroundings. How he tells the difference between one gross wall from another gross wall slightly boggled your head. Though if it got you out of this cement prison you didn't care.

For a moment as the two of you walked side by side the raven haired child peered up at you with a squinting gaze as he absorbed your answer. Another cartoonish action that made the corner of your lip slightly curl.

"Hmmmm... Alrighty! I can understand wanting to see your family. I lost my mother when I was young but, Leo and his brothers always make me feel right at home!" The young child perked as he grinned up at you with that wide chipped grin of his.

You missed this type of interaction. No fighting or an obsessive purple bandana wearing turtle lurking. Just two normal people just having a plain conversation. No commands or shifty deals. Just one person leading the other to the long awaiting freedom you've desired.

These interactions with the teddy bear brown eyed boy become more challenging with each quip the child spoke. Insects were drilling into the flesh under your skin again. Burrowing into the empty casket of your missing soul. Thriving on what is left of your sanity as they scuttled around in the memories you didn't want to face.

Somehow peering down at the chubby cheeks and scruffy black hair of Casey Jr's that didn't resemble Ethan in any way— still made you think of your deceased younger sibling.

He had been only eight years old he was the first to go out of your happy family trio. It had happened when the Krrang had first opened their portal. Neither one of you were prepared for the earthquake like shake before the ceiling of your mother's apartment collapsed and crushed the two of you under crumbling rubble. When you came to after pushing crumbled drywall from on top of yourself and searching for your younger sibling. All you found when you searched through broken pieces of your childhood home was blood. You couldn't lift the interior support beam off of where you had presumed Ethan was. The steel was far too heavy and your palms were too coated in the surrounding sediment to be able to lift the remaining pieces. You couldn't do anything. Unable to fulfill the role of the older sibling.

For hours you bawled as you had tried to wait for your mother's return. She had been at work when the Krrang attacked. You never did find out what became of her. You always did hope that she got away and somehow was doing well. Even if the reality is she most likely got assimilated or killed. You still always prayed she was doing good.

You just wanted to see them again. Go back in time and re-live the moments you carelessly spent. Fights and words you wish could be taken back. Reclaim wasted opportunities that you'll never have again. How you wish you could tell them you loved them both one last time.

"(Y/n) were here."

At the sound of Casey Jr's squeaky voice your lone (e/c) orb found presented before it was a waterfall of sludge that spilled over into a thirty-five foot drop. Leading down into what appeared into a bay of the same icky substance rushing past your soaked flats. An

With a cheeky grin the raven haired boy pointed down into the pool below. "This is it, the end of the line for me!" The boy quipped before continuing. "I can't go any further with you but, if you keep following that tunnel down there you should be out of the sewers in no time!" Casey finished with a smirk arms crossed over his tiny chest as he explained the directions. Obviously proud himself for remembering his Sensei's words.

" Thanks... " You grinned awkwardly. Not particularly fond of the idea of swimming through god knows what.

"Goodbye Casey, ...thank you for showing me the out." A small smile grew on your face as you looked back at the nine year old only to see the cause of your nightmares standing silently in the background. Glowing optic reflecting in the shadows like a beast prowling the jungle.

Suddenly the spacious catacomb you've been traversing through didn't have enough air. Your chest clenched tight around the squishy organs encased in your ribs.

"(Y/n) are you alrig—"

"Casey Jr stay back!"

It was Leonardo, already at his charge's side holding back the nine year old from advancing any further into the situation that no longer included them. Donatello already approaching forward with the same air of confidence he always carried. Expression studious and sharp. Although the purple tattooed turtle did not display it— he was fucking furious.

"I should've known you would do this to me, (Y/n). " The General dryly chuckled as he edged closer. Every bold step forward the purple bandana wearing ninja took, the closer your shaking legs stumbled towards the slimy edge of the trash filled waterfall. In his three fingered grip a pair of steel cuffs. The kind you see in the movies except from the look of the bulky things. The ones dangling from Donatello's right hand were real.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck— Things were moving too fast. Your rampaging pumping muscle was going to explode. Panicked breaths filled the range of sound your anxiety allowed at you honed in on the jade demon in front of you.

" I should've never made that deal with you... you lied to me. You knew that my mother was dead— YOU KNEW!" You cried as your lone (e/c) eye flashed back and forth between the cracking edge you stood on and the softshell who stood before you. "You fucking lied to me! You played me just so I would stay! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Panting you learned forward, (skin tone) palms resting on your knees. Never breaking eye contact with the aged turtle who although appeared collected was everything but. Narrowed black eyes filled with so much anger. Though still allowed you continue.

"I... -pant-....will never.. -pant- ..fucking love you. You were a mistake. Any feelings I ever had for you were a mistake. I wish I never had met you. I wish I fucking died when you rescued me on your stupid scrap run those months ago..." Straighten your stature you gave the infuriated jade turtle one last look as you smugly looked him dead in the eye.

"I wish whatever fucked up God had chose to taken General Raph, ....had instead killed you..." You calmly stated. Laughing as you continued. Silent tears finally falling out of your last good eye. " Hahahaha— the only reason— you are soooo important enough to still be alive is because your older brother decided to give his life for all of you sick fucks! I pity his sacrifice— maybe at least if he was still here he would know how to handle shit instead of giving into an overgrown spoiled brat like you!"

Silence. No one made a peep. The only sound that broke through the thick tension in the tunnel was the rushing sound of the sewers water that at this point has successfully drenched the legs of your muck covered plaid bottoms.

In the background the fearless blue bandana wearing Commander's emotions were all laid out on his nonexistent sleeve. He was hurt, pissed, and over all he just looked disturbed with the overall conversation.

Meanwhile Casey Jr shielded his face into his Sensei's plastron. Quite sobs choking the boy as his tiny hands griped onto his Commander's beige pant leg like his life depended on it. Terrified of the situation that didn't make sense to the child. The sight made your heart ache just a little bit.

Donatello didn't say anything. He didn't do anything just bore holes into your soul. You had opened your mouth to continue berating the purple clad asshole who's kept you in his fuckin' lab for the last year. Forced you to sleep next to him. Locked you up like a dog when you tried to run away.

However the jade mutant beat you to the punch.

"Shut up. Don't you dare even say another fucking word. "The aged ninja seethed, closing the space between the two of you in a blink of an eye. His left metal palm shooting to grasp your according bicep, tightening his grip around the tender flesh.

" I don't ever want to ever hear you mention Raph's name ever again. You don't fucking deserve to say it. You're so ungrateful and pathetic it just makes everyone around you laugh at your stupidity. Are you really trying to leave the base? Me? For what? Just so you can go fucking kill yourself out there? I saved you. I'm supporting the human race even when all the facts say I shouldn't. That I should've given up on this stupid apocalypse alooong time ago but, I didn't. I had wanted to when we had crossed paths for the first time. When I rescued you, I changed my mind. Why can't you just be grateful!?!?" Donatello cried as he pushed you from the tunnels edge into the roaring murky waters below.

°°°°°

Beep...beep...beepbeepbeep

There she is.

The softshell will admit he lost a bit of his composure back there. He shouldn't have pushed you from that high of a point but, you just made him so mad. How dare you bring up Raph. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like on that battlefield. There was no winning, only retreat. You don't realize how much he wishes everyday that the one who had perished was himself not Raph. You don't realize. You're always so naive. That's why Donatello was here to keep you safe. It was for your own good.

There.

In the shallow waters was your water logged figure. Obviously you were out cold based off small rise and fall of your chest.

With a sigh, Donatello slid the projected screen from the monitor on his cybertronic arm. Deactivating the tracker that was implanted in your abdomen. Lucky for him had installed this little insurance a long time ago after one of your many fits just for this type of emergency. Finding the gadget handy in locating you both times. Not having to rely on his red eared slider twin's amazing capabilities.

Trekking into the shallow water the purple clad turtle reached down and retrieved your knocked out figure. Not caring particularly much about the condition of his loose dark purple pants that soaked up the surrounding water fairly quickly.

With a strong exhale of air the technological general retreated back to his base chastising you under his breath along the way. Once there the softshell would insure that you wouldn't have another opportunity like this again.

Like a true scientist Donatello learns from his mistakes and he'll keep trying until one of his punishments clicks. It's not like you won't give the techno demon the opportunity to do so. Not that Donatello minds.

After all where would science be without trial and error?

¶¶Creator's notes¶¶

Wazzup!

You guys made this far so you deserve the scoup on the next one-shot will be...

Drum roll🥁🥁

Yan!Future!Raph x Reader 🎉🎉

I don't have a picture for Future Raph but, if you guys have any good pictures saved hit me up I'm always open.

I have some ideas on how I want to do it. Though I could also turn it into a post movie sort of deal. Where it takes place after the events of the ROTTMNT movie. Thouughhh it's up to you guys. One person has already voted for some future Raph so we'll see what I come up with.

[husk-not-whiskers]

“Tonight’s gonna be different”

♥️♠️♦️♣️ 🂱 ╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯ 🂱 ♣️♦️♠️♥️

Husk nervously went through every suit he boxed up. None of them fit quite right and he couldn’t tell what color they were. Yes, most of his suits were black or grey with orange or yellow accents but he couldn’t tell. When he managed to bring his things over to the hotel he hadn’t had time to mark them.

“Fuuuck” the cat mumbled to himself, “how am I s’posta find somethin’ ta wear?” He dragged his paws across his face, letting them sit over his eyes for a few seconds.

It had been ages since Husk went on a date… wait… had he even dated after he died? How long had it been? Pushing the thought out his mind he returned to the suits.

“I could ask Charlie…?” After thinking about for more than a few seconds he came to the conclusion that Charlie would have a stroke if he asked her for… romantic advice, or any kind of help frankly. And it’s not like he wanted anyone else in the hotel to know he was going on a date with Angel Dust. I mean.. he could always ask the man himself. Even if Angel had more of feminine style, he definitely knew how to dress. If Husk was going to be out in public, which he was, he wanted to look good.

He paced around in his room thinking it over and over. “Angel probably has some kinda fuckn 5 hour long routine if I go and ask em’ for help, he’ll probably fuckn’… fuck somthn’ up” Husk wanted to bash his head against the wall.

“I’ll just wear a wear a fuckn blouse an’ a vest.”

╾┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅╼

Husk wore a white blouse with a waterfall ruffles across the front. The sleeves went out and were a silky texture, if not for the cuffs at the end they could’ve easily drooped to the bottom of his wings. On top of that he had black double breasted vest with three orange buttons and other orange accents across the fabric. It was a slight hint, as if a single spool of an orange was cautiously woven across the very surface. At a glance you wouldn’t notice, but if you were close enough it was something you had to admire. Matching the pockets and buttons his bow tie was also a vibrant orange. (Atleast Husk hoped they were, they looked more like a grayish yellow to him) He finished the outfit with solid black dress pants. His belt was also black, save for the golden clubs and spades across the belt. Husk wasn’t sure if they were actually made out of real gold or not, but they looked nice. Finally he popped on a golden heart and a golden diamond cufflink on his sleeves.

He walked over to the mirror in his room. It was small and cracked. He hadn’t really cared to well… take care of his space or himself. He inspected himself, not a hair was out of place. And he needed it to stay that way. He grabbed a bottle of cologne out from one of his various boxes scattered across his room. Holding his breath he sprayed it on his chest, inner arms and wrists. The smell was strong to him. It overwhelmed his sense of smell, it didn’t matter though. He needed to be on top tonight.

With one final twist and shake he brushed off his nerves and started walking towards Angel’s room

╾┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅╼

Walking to Angel’s room was strange, it’s not like he hadn’t been there before but this time was different.

Husk felt a lot of the same feelings he did when walked to Alastor for help…however it wasn’t complete and utter fear. He was scared no doubt, but there was a touch of joy underneath. Whimsy? No. But there was definitely an excitement to the anxiety.

His heart raced as he prepared to knock on the spider’s door. “One two three four, one two three four…” he mumbled, remembering one of Charlie’s previous exercises. Something about counting to calm you down? He had brushed it off before but it worked surprisingly well.

*knock knock*

With a slight hesitation he said, “Hey Legs, I’m ready whenever you are”

// @angeldust-real

Sorry for making this so long oml I just had to English this. I think it’s like 700 words???

[trashboatprince]

Oh i just thought of a prompt idea! Aziraphale trying to write a book? Maybe under estimating how easy it would be?

Hahaha, the massive difference between reading something and writing something.

On with the fic!

--

"Angel!" Crowley shouted as he loudly threw open the doors to the bookshop. "You in? Cause I know you are, I can sense your 'goody-goody' angel essence here. Plus, you tend to call me when you're gonna take a little trip or do somethin' for Heaven."

He glanced around, there looked to be more dust than usual, and he could smell the unmistakable scent of forgotten tea cups. Bleh.

Which means that Aziraphale either found a new, ancient tome to pour over for days to make sure he reads every single thing, examines every damn, little detail. Or, he's bookbinding/repairing for a commission and completely forgot about everything else in the world, including answering his blasted phone.

Crowley rolled his eyes and headed right for Aziraphale's work space, and as he got closer, he seemed to pick up on a ticking sound. And a metallic ding, followed by some odd sound, then more ticking.

Gosh, that's a combo of noises Crowley hadn't heard in person in ages, mainly you heard it in movies or TV shows from bygone times. Or, when Aziraphale decided to pull it out of its case and use it because his ancient-as-anything computer just won't cut it.

Peeking into the work space, Crowley found a mess.

Papers everywhere, stacked into what had to be piles of organized chaos, or simply discarded, judging by some of the crumbled up paper balls. And there was Aziraphale, with several cups that may or may not contain mold, glaring as he rapidly typed away at a typewriter that had to be from the 1890s.

Aziraphale growled and yanked out the paper. "No, no! Terrible, all of those were incorrect for the scene! Fine, attempt number fifteen should be it..."

The typewriter suddenly had paper again and Aziraphale began typing away, muttering under his breath.

"Hell's teeth, angel, what's all this about?" Crowley asked, picking up one of the discarded papers. He looked at what was on it, and it seemed to be dialogue between two characters, though the conversation was very prissy, very Aziraphale-like.

Aziraphale squeaked and turned, blinking owlishly behind his little glasses. "Oh! Good... uhh... what time is it, dear?"

"It's 10 in the morning."

"Ah! Right, good morning! Dreadfully sorry, been a bit busy lately."

"I can see that." Crowley tossed the paper aside. "You writin' somethin'?"

Aziraphale looked excited. "I am! I decided that it's about time that I add to the literary world, and not just contribute to it through my reading!"

"So, you're trying to write a book." The demon picked up a few more pages. "This is why I haven't heard from you for over a week?"

"It's been over a week since we had brunch?" Aziraphale blinked. "Gosh, I seem to have been more into my work than I thought."

Crowley snorted, tossing the other papers aside into the mess. Then he stopped, and a big, toothy grin came to him. "Brunch! Oooh! This is why you're writing a book, isn't it? Cause I told you that it's a lot of work for good literature, after you complained about all those annoying books that 'popular' authors these days just churn out every two months! You were all 'It takes time and effort for memorable books, anyone who doesn't just want the next paycheck can do it'."

Aziraphale huffed and fixed his bowtie. "I stand by that, Crowley. And it's true, a love for writing and reading can create amazing stories. And I decided to prove my point!"

"From all this paper, and how pissed you looked when I came in, it's not going very well?"

"Well..." The angel coughed, looking away and back at the typewriter, "it is a work in progress, and not everyone can create a masterpiece on the first attempt! Besides, I think I'm onto something with my story, finally! Inspiration struck me and I've been on a roll, I just have to make sure I get everything right! I will not settle for anything less with this specific plot!"

"Uh huh. And what's it about?"

Aziraphale's cheeks pinked and he tugged at his vest. "W-well, it's a secret, I'm not ready to reveal the plot just yet!"

Crowley grabbed a random page off the pile next to him and cleared his throat. "'It would be the most magical of nights, if one excuses the pun, of course. A chance to show my skills to a real audience, on the West End of all places!' I think I can take a wild guess as to what this-"

The page was snatched from Crowley's hands and Aziraphale shoved it into his vest, hiding it from the demon. His face was red and he looked embarrassed. "It's a secret! No reading!"

Crowley chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Fine, I'll just have to wait for when it's finally released. You'll have to let me know when it's available, I'd just love to read it." He lowered his glasses to give the angel a wink before snatching up the forgotten tea cups.

"Now, how about we take a little break, Mr. Writer Man. We can do brunch again."

--

Aziraphale seems like the sort of writer who won't settle for anything less than perfect if he's gonna write something based on his life. And that magical night in 1941 must be correct!

[puppyie-innit]

Hey, as someone who isn't aware about a lot of more... shamed upon mental illnesses, can you explain to me what age regression is? Because you still seem able to talk in full sentences, and pretty well too, is the more childish way you speak in your posts a purposeful thing to show that you feel childish inside? Age regression is just something people haven't told me a lot about, and you seem like a good person to ask. Sorry If I come off as offensive, it's not my intention! ^^; Thanks!

it’s all good fren! ive always rlly been a very smart kid, able to pronounce an use big words well and also excel in academics, the stuff i do an say are unintentional, as i can’t control when/how long i age regress, since it’s involuntarily and can happen at any time. i also don’t realize m doin it cuz i jus “feel” an believe m naturally small always. so, to answer yur question, nupe, not on purpose! it’s jus wat happened naturally for me :3

however, it’s a completely harmless an innocent copin mechanism, for a lot of kiddos in the world! simply put, age regression, in my opinion, is a type of way to cope for people who hav had traumatic things happen to em in da past, OR, it could simply to relive the good ol’ days from their childhood or lack of. NONE of it in any way is used for inappropriate/sexual/icky stuff, despite wat some people might tell you. like all things, people judge wat they don’t understand.

for me, it’s not a matter of feelin small, or a certain age. it has to do wif my emotional an mental development, as i was forced to grow up at a very young an vulnerable time in my life. my bwain like re-wired itself an stunted my growth in a way, so i often get confused an sometimes don’t even remember my own age when people ask. my azbergers diagnosis could’ve caused some more childlike behaviors to, as I’m a very emotional person when it come to change, losin those i love, gettin attached an clingy, easily jealous, easily hurt.. those kinda things. BUT, it’s also a very very wholesome an joy-filled experience to, as you jus get to escape reality for a bit an revert back to a younger headspace, it’s even better if yous got someone to take care of you while yur little, like a big siblin or trusted fren :D

another thing dat some people do is referrin to regression as “slippin,” which i think is a much better way to think of it as!

examples of some of my age slippin behaviors can include: (this is all my opinion, m not an expert an not everyone does dis!!)

-gettin SUPER excited over that baby-talk voice people do to puppyies/babies

-voice raisin in a higher pitch/slurred speech

-mis-pronouncin words/spellin, for me it’s not intentional

-cuddlin every single plushie in any store i find

-gigglin/laughin/smilin uncontrollably

-bein silly!

-makin noises/stimmin

-very very happy when bein called a “good kid”

-chewin on my fingies/suckin my thumb

-gettin sleepy after sugar

-jumpin up an down when someone tells me good news

-huggin, LOTS of huggin

-wearin oversized clothin

-crawlin on all fours

-sittin in someone’s lap/snugglin wif em

-bein curious bout things/askin lots of questions

-not understandin somethin due to my innocence

-havin my hair petted/back rubbed

-havin someone to be held by when m sad

-freely makin messes cuz it fun to get dirty!

basically anythin that you would do/say to a child

i hope dis helped you a bit more! ^~^

[aang3ll]

Games and Memories

@tickles-and-cuddles

agbhnjmnhg it's finally done after being sidetracked for so long

Warnings: Tkl fanfic, Implied romantic BakuDeku at the end if you squint, and light cursing (It's bakugou.)

Bakugou was sitting in his room, scrolling through his old pictures. The high school student had run out of things to do a good thirty minutes ago, having already completed his homework, and having already been told that he wasn’t allowed to do any more training for the day. (‘Five hours isn’t “too long!”’) So far, he had come across what was mostly family photos he was forced to take with his parents, and pictures of him and his middle school friends. Him at the park, him at the zoo, ETC… all that type of stuff.

That was when he came across it. It was a picture of him when he was very young, maybe five or six years old. He was standing next to a rather large tree, with someone else. Next to him was a boy about his age back then. A boy he recognized so easily by his dark green hair.

Deku.

‘Izuku..’

It had been a while since Bakugo had used that name for the boy, even in his thoughts.

The blonde couldn’t help but reminisce about those old days, many, many years ago. It was happy back then. He was happy back then. He was himself.

It had been so long since Katsuki had just been able to… be himself. His true self. The side of him that only his old friend could bring out.

He smiled, before scrolling to the next picture.

It was another one of him and the greenette. Only this time, Deku was on the floor, laughing with a bright red face, Katsuki straddling his waist.

Bakugou’s smile turned into a grin. Now, he knew just how to do a little bonding with his old friend.

Izuku was sat on the couch, bored out of his absolute mind. He had been watching TV, but after clicking through what was probably hundreds of channels, he had given up on trying to find something that really interested him. He leaned back into the couch with a groan.

“You’d think there would be more than just reality TV on a Saturday…” He mumbled to himself.

“God, you really need to learn how to fucken’ speak up, nerd.” The greenette jumped at the voice behind him, before whirling around, instantly being faced with a pair of familiar red eyes. “K-Kacchan!? How long have you been standing there?” He asked the boy standing behind the couch.

“A couple minutes, but long enough to see that you’re bored to shit.” “Heh, yeah, that’s true.” Izuku chuckled out, nervously.

Katsuki walked around to the front of the couch, sitting down. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got somethin’ to entertain ya’ with.” The blonde grinned.

“Oh? And, what could that be?” The unsuspecting teenager asked, innocently. He was sort of excited. Bakugou was being nicer than usual, not even cussing Deku out for mumbling today (not counting breakfast this morning), and said boy intended to soak it in for as long as he could.

“Well, it’s a game.” The taller of the two explained. This only added to the other’s excitement. A game? With Bakugou? While this was certainly a surprise, the greenette wasn’t complaining.

“How do we play?” He asked with an unknowing smile.

“Simple. You keep your arms up for sixty seconds while I tickle you, and you win.” Said the blonde, rather bluntly.

The Midoriya boy froze up, his face turning bright red. That was… unexpected. He hadn’t expected Bakugou to just ask like that, let alone even want to tickle him in the first place. Not that he was against the idea, because of course he wasn’t. It was just a tad bit… …flustering.

“Well? Whaddya’ say, nerd?” “...What happens if I win?” Now it was Bakugou’s turn to be surprised. He hadn’t expected the other to ask that and, in all honesty, he had no idea for a surprise.

Izuku quickly noticed this from his friend’s shocked expression, so he came up with something on his own. “How about… if I win, I get to tickle you for two minutes?” “No.” “One minute?” “Thirty seconds.” “Deal!” Izuku grinned happily. All he had to do was keep his arms up for one minute, and then he would get to tickle Bakugou! Easy, right? Well, the poor boy seemed to underestimate how ticklish he was.

Soon, Deku was lying on the taller hero(-in-training)’s lap, his arms up as high as they could go. The game had barely even started, they were only five seconds in, (Bakugou set a timer) and the poor thing was already giggling and squirming like a madman. And yet, all Bakugou was doing was gently raking his fingers down the other’s sides.

“Huh, seems you won’t be lasting long, will you~?” The blonde teased.

Deku giggled out a ‘shut up’, before realizing his mistake. Katsuki wasn’t one to talk back to, especially not in a situation like this.

“...Shut up? Shut up? Oh, you’re in big fucken’ trouble now, damn nerd.” That was when Bakugou went absolutely wild. He scribbled his fingers over Deku’s belly, squeezed his sides, scratched at his underarms… anything he could do and/or reach, really. He showed no mercy in absolutely wrecking poor Izuku.

“AHHAHHHA- GAHAH- K-KAHAHAHACHAAHAHAN PLEHEHEHEASE!!” Izuku laughed out. He just couldn’t handle the ruthless tickling sensations all over his body, and no matter how much he thrashed from side to side, he just couldn’t get away. It was on his ribs, his stomach, his hips… everywhere. Atleast, that’s what it felt like to the greenette. “GAHHAHAAHAHAHAHA IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T-!!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE, MEHEHEHEHERCY!!”

“Mercy is for losers, Deku.” That was all that could be said before Izuku’s arms shot down. Bakugou grinned and slowed to a stop, knowing he had won. “Heh, told you I’d win, damn Deku.” But the blonde’s grin slowly turned into a soft smile as he watched the smaller boy giggle with a bright red face, the ghost tickles probably getting to him.

“Y’know, since I won, I think I should have a reward.” Katsuki stated.

“O-Oho? Ahahand what were you thihinking?” The greenette giggled out.

“I’m thinking… dessert.” Bakugou leaned down, and blew a rather large raspberry on Midoriya’s stomach, and the room was filled with screeching laughter once more.

Let’s just say, Deku had a very long night, but the cuddles at the end were totally worth it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ahhh sorry it's so short, but I hope you liked it!

[mephinomaly]

[TL] BIOHAZARD/Chapter 4

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Kaoru: Why would we take part in an experiment that sounds like something a sci-fi movie villain would do…?

Tomoya: “If we are able to duplicate people, duplicate idols, there are many advantages.”

Hajime: “Fundamentally, one person can only do so much. They cannot be in multiple places at once or complete multiple jobs at the same time.”

Tomoya: “However, if we can create clones such as ourselves, it will become possible.”

Hajime: “For example, say there is a super idol with plenty of talent–”

Tomoya: “This idol will be able to simultaneously sing and dance on stage, star in a movie, take part in a gravure photoshoot, recount a funny story on a variety show—”

Hajime: “These examples, that would otherwise be impossible, become possible.”

Tomoya: “If the original person ages or perhaps even dies, the copy will still be able to perform to the best of its ability.”

Hajime: “24/7, 365 days a year!”

Tomoya: “They won’t get sick nor be able to complain.”

Rei: Riiight, I suppose that’s true.

Robots do not have human rights. You do not even need to pay them a salary, all you must do is cover the cost of manufacturing and maintaining.

To a manager, it is better than a real idol whose body can rapidly degrade.

Koga: That’s fuckin’ insane, man. ES is… Is ES heartless or somethin’?

Rei: Nay, Itsuki-kun would say that it is only human nature to want to bend the world around you for your own wishes.

Kaoru: Itsuki-kun? Isn’t that more of a Tenshouin-kun thing to say?

Rei: He has a surprisingly unique outlook on art. I’m his friend, so I would know.

Adonis: Fumu… Personally, I understand the overall concept, but I’m struggling to accept this.

This sort of technology is an extension of drawing AI. When there’s AI that is better than real humans with beating hearts, that can easily be mass produced—

What do we do then?

AI has been able to accomplish tasks in seconds compared to us, who could take a year or even a decade to do the same thing.

And that can all be done with a simple press of a button.

In the beginning, we will abhor these “monsters”.

There are no laws in place in regards to non-human entities, so they'll be regulated in the same manner drawing AI are, right?

But as time passes, and new laws are passed, when those sort of things become commonplace–

In that future, is there a place for us, real people?

Koga: Y-You alright, Adonis? Ain’t you bein’ unusually talkative?

Adonis: I’ve been thinking about AI technology since Yuuki showed it to me. I’m not good at thinking, so I’ve yet to come up with an answer.

Rei: Adonis-kun is a serious boy.

For me, if that is the current trend, I want to follow it. Whether you dislike it or not, you cannot prevent big trends such as that.

Even if we feel disgusted and consequently don’t participate in this experiment, these guys will just ask other idols to do it in our place.

Hajime: “Yep.”

Tomoya: “We don’t particularly need UNDEAD’s help.”

Koga: Oi! What are you tryna say, huh? Ain’t you suppose t’be actin’ cute?

Tomoya: “We are aware that our actions and words are uncharacteristic of the original Ra*bits members.”

Hajime: “We, at best, are 40% accurate to the original people.”

Tomoya: “Our external appearance have been the main focus, rather than the internal, such as speech and behaviour.”

Rei: You are using tricky phrases that is unusual for Ra*bits.

Hajime: “Yes. In order to accurately replicate the internals, that is to say, one’s mental state and personality, we need data from your brains.”

Tomoya: “And that is what we are requesting of you for this experiment.”

Hajime: “Now, we will install these devices to your heads, or more specifically, your brains.”

Tomoya: “Then, we will download as much data as we can from your brains, and use it to recreate you.”

Hajime: “We believe we are capable of reproducing the identical idols, both on the inside and the outside.”

Kaoru: A-are you going to suck out our brains? Isn’t that kinda gross?

Hajime: “Your wording is misleading.”

Tomoya: “We are only obtaining data, your physical and mental will not be damaged in the process.”

Hajime: “Of course, private information will be protected in accordance with the law.”

Kaoru: ...

Hajime: “Well, if you don’t want to, you can always refuse.”

Tomoya: “If you refuse, we will ask other idols, such as Ra*bits, to participate in your place.”

Hajime: “However, the experiment cannot be cancelled.”

Tomoya: “Until we are able to create the perfect AI idol, the AIIE project will not stop.”

Rei: ...

[ ☆ ]

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

[jujumin-translates]

Event | Act 3.5 Event - NEW ERA GARDEN | Chapter 6

*Contains spoilers for Act 12 - eternal moment*

Yukio: I don’t think Okita Souji has that unworldly of a feel about him. I think he rather clung to life and struggled until the end.

Reni: I want to enchant the beautiful and fleeting life of Okita Souji.

Yukio: Well, I want to see you do a more human and clumsy Souji, Reni!

Kasumi: …Are we seeing those two fighting more than usual? I hope they’ll be okay.

Yuzo: I think they’re both gettin’ so heated because they both wanna make somethin’ good. We should probably just leave ‘em be…

Reni: I don’t agree with what you’re saying at all, I just can’t picture it.

Reni: If you insist on that idea so much, do it yourself.

Yukio: --...

Yukio: Even if I were to do it, it wouldn’t be an Okita Souji that blooms in the way that only you can, Reni.

Reni: …

*Clapping*

Syu: Alright, let’s take a break.

Reni: --.

Yukio: Right, sorry. I’m going to get something to drink.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Reni: …

Syu: It’s really like back then.

Reni: No kidding. I’ve never been this mad at my age.

Syu: That’s a good thing.

Syu: (I still couldn’t help but butt in.)

Syu: (--I remember dragging them along back then too.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

I never really liked Yukio Tachibana ever since I first joined the group, and even after Reiji left, I still had a hard time changing my mind about him.

It was because of Reiji’s invitation that I joined MANKAI Company in the first place.

Should I continue to stay in the theater company even without him?

Reiji wasn’t in contact with me much then, probably feeling awkward about leaving the troupe so suddenly.

The estrangement from my close and true friend was all due to Yukio Tachibana.

My frustration grew quickly, building up until I felt like I could explode, so I tried to avoid having any relationship with Yukio as much as I possibly could.

But then on the first day of Winter Troupe’s performance--.

I ignored all of Yukio’s direction and performed the role in a completely spur-of-the-moment way.

It was 100% out of rebellion against Yukio. It was childish on my part, I didn’t even think about the other members on stage.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

After the performance, Yukio, looking calm as ever, came to me while I was changing out of my costume.

“...Was that the way you wanted to bloom in your own way, Syu-san?”

When he asked that, I nodded in response, annoyed.

“I see… that’s fine then.”

Yukio spoke quietly, but I felt like he could see through my lie.

I wasn’t really considering the performance.

I just wanted to take out my frustration on Yukio.

I think I did the worst thing I could’ve possibly done as an actor.

It was the biggest disgrace in my entire acting career.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

After that, the rest of Winter Troupe and the other troupe’s members worried about me as I calmed down. And the next day, I returned to the original plan and continued to perform as usual.

I thought to myself about how I had become such a half-assed actor.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Then, after the finale, Yukio stopped me in the dressing room again.

While I was thinking that he might blame me for the first day’s performance or kick me out of the troupe, Yukio said something that surprised me.

“I want you to be the lead of the next Winter Troupe performance.”

“Hah?”

“I got the idea after seeing your performance on opening day. It didn’t fit this play, but it gave me a look into a new side of you, Syu-san.”

“You’re always so detached from the world and cynical, it seems like the always manly Syu-san has been hiding a darker side all this time… I was excited to think that you might be able to bloom on stage in this way as well. Maybe I got too caught up in stereotypes. I want to try this new side of you out for the next play.”

Yukio’s eyes were sparkling as he told me that…

Even though I didn’t like the guy, I couldn’t help but be stunned.

He calmly sees through any situation and follows his heart as a director and as a man of theater rather than his personal feelings.

He’s a far cry from me, the guy who nearly ruined an entire performance because of his own feelings.

As a man of theater myself, I had to admit that it had me grinding my teeth in frustration.

I thought he was exactly like I wanted to be, the man who I hated as a person, but respected as a man of theater.

So I couldn’t quit yet.

I made a strong vow that day… that I wouldn’t quit this theater company until I had taken everything I possibly could from this man.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Reni: …Cheers.

Syu: Yukio and Hiro are also going out for drinks today.

Reni: Seems like they’re taking turns inviting each other out during rehearsals. Another thing I don’t get.

Syu: It was interesting that he happened to have invited Yuzo for a drink first.

Reni: Well, I don’t think they’ll have too many meetings like that.

Syu: Yuzo, me, Hiro, and now Zen. Have you went yet, Reiji?

Reni: We’ve been preparing together since before rehearsals started, so there’s nothing for us to talk about now.

Syu: I think you two should have a long talk and really get into it about the image of Okita Souji.

Reni: …What does he think about the way you’re playing Hijikata Toshizou?

Syu: Well…

Syu: I also talked to Yukio about it the other night over drinks here.

*Flashback start*

Yukio: He’s a different type of leader compared to the straightforward Kondou Isami, he’s a leader who will try and achieve his ideals by any means, a leader who’s willing to take on both the good and the bad…

Yukio: I think that kind of role fits you well, Syu-san.

Yukio: Even back in those days, you thought about the stage more than your own feelings, and put yourself first as an actor and a man of theater, didn’t you, Syu-san?

Yukio: I think a lot of you overlaps with the kind of person Hijikata is…

Syu: (…That’s something I learned from you, though.’

*Flashback end*

Reni: Willing to take on both the good and the bad… I see.

Syu: …By the way, I secretly told the first-gen Winter Troupe about that time.

Reni: …I thought we said that was confidential.

Syu: C’mon, all of GOD-za knows about it, don’t they?

Reni: …

Reni: For various reasons during “Traces of a Dream,” I couldn’t tell them beforehand.

Syu: Because of Yukio’s indiscriminate scouting, most of the first-gen members had no intention of making a living in theater.

Syu: They’re all not involved in theater anymore, but they were all happy.

Syu: Even if it’s not through theater, even if we’re no longer on stage together, it’ll never change. We’re still all friends who once stood on the same stage.

Syu: Relationships like that aren’t meant to just be broken. …I’ve come to believe that after seein’ the guys in the newborn troupes.

Reni: …

Syu: …In exchange for what we lost, we also gained something. And so did you, right?

Reni: …Yeah.

Reni: …However, there are moments when I unexpectedly think back to something I once lost.

Syu: The Souji you have in mind is Yukio, isn’t it?

Reni: …

Reni: A desire that can never be fulfilled, an idolization.

Reni: I couldn’t help but think of that and try to pursue it during rehearsal.

Reni: I thought that… we swore we’d stop chasing after what we lost.

Syu: Talk to Yukio before the performance. He’s the one who remembers the old days.

Syu: That’s why I have to let him say it this time.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]