#like its gender neutral to me in the way that dude is gender neutral

[heckaroniandcheese]

some of these alpha cc girlies know what they're doing that's all I'm sayin

[akascow]

man yellowjackets would be so much better if it didnt keep cutting back to the present day

[flowers-that-sing]

how come when a cis guy dresses fem ppl will still recognize him as a guy but when i, a trans guy, dress fem, ppl go "ah so youre NOT trans" or think it means i am "actually" a girl.

no. i am just a femboy. that is all.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

we need deadpool x oblivious gender neutral reader or him fending creeps off the reader thx :3

I’m gonna kill that fucker

A/n: AHHH I love this. Also I dreamed abt this request litcherally. Like I had a vision after I read it and fell asleep. Gif and div not mine. also this is most def not one of my best works LEVAE ME ALOME

warnings: creepy dude, mentions of murder (it’s Wade), a few suggestive mentions, your hammered, couple shenanigans !

Wade had always been protective of you even when you both were just friends, he had been protective, sheltering you from harm's way. His protectiveness got even stronger when you started dating.

And he’d be damned if he let some other random ass motherfucker look at you like that, touch you like that.

His hand was on your arm, and you took it as innocent, but he could see the discomfort on your face, even from afar. Then his hand went down to your back, you still visibly uncomfortable but not saying a word.

He wasn’t jealous, he was annoyed. Annoyed at that creep staring at you like you were his prey, like a piece of meat he needed to get his hands on. He was away from you for two seconds! 

He grumbled under his breath as he made his way back to you, both drinks still in his hands. You turned, smiling at the sight of your boyfriend. He noticed the man’s hand dropped from its place on your skin, turning to Wade.

“Who’s your friend?” Wade asked you, staring at the man with a crooked, forced smile. The man nodded at Wade, glaring at him.

“This is Micheal, Micheal this is Wade! My boyfriend.” You introduced the two to each other with a slight slur in your voice, not noticing the staring competition it seemed like the two were having at the moment.

Micheal cleared his throat, both men turning back to you. Wade wrapped an arm around you, smug smile on his face.

“Well, Micheal. You always hang around here?” He asked, glancing around the bar.

The man shrugged, Wade nodding.

“Man of few words, huh?” Wade retorted.

“I guess, yeah.” He scoffed, gripping the cup in his hands tighter.

The tension was thick, everyone could see it except you, who happily downed the rest of your drink.

“Slow down.” Wade chuckled at you, pulling you even closer into his side with a smile.

“Micheal was just telling me about- about-“ you hiccuped over your words. “About where he lives or something.”

Micheal flushed at you exposing him like that, glancing the other way, feeling Wades eyes on him.

“Is that so?” He mused, raising his eyebrows at the dark haired man.

“I mean, I’m just… here for a weekend. I was just-“

“Wondering if they could go home with you?” Wade tilted his head to the side, the man shrugged, glaring at your boyfriend.

“Can we go?” You turned to ask Wade, who nodded and you slipped out of his arms, beginning to walk towards the door slowly.

“Well, uh, Micheal, seems like they are struggling to walk at the moment…” he trailed off, watching you walk away and attempt to go to the door, stumbling around.

“So, gotta go. See you.” He pat the man hard on the back, man grimacing and sneering at Wade, watching you leave together.

He had a hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the crowded bar, and both of you walking out into the city lights.

“So, that Micheal guy….” He started, you looking up at Wade with a confused expression, not knowing why he brought the random man up.

“What about him?” You slurred out.

“Well, I mean, he’s a bit of a creep… he was like 60. I saw grey hairs on his head! And you don’t talk to hot people in bars unless you wanna bang them.” He held his hands up in defense when you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I think he was just… being friendly.” You shrugged.

“Oh, you oblivious, sweet thing.” He shook his head, you frowning. “Old men are the worst, babe. Believe me.” He chuckled, frown still on your face.

“He was just… I don’t know!” You threw your hands up.

“He had his hand on your back, on your arm, he literally was about to touch your ass before I came over, what does that sound like to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Flirting! What else would it be?”

“Hm. I mean… I guess he did ask me… where I lived and if I wanted to ride with him…” you huffed, realizing he was right, recalling the words he had said earlier.

“Oh, see?! I’m gonna kill that fucker.” He exclaimed.

“You’d do that for me?” You said with a small smile.

“What makes you think I haven’t?” He raised his eyebrows, you giggling. He wasn’t really joking.

You began to turn to the side, thinking that it was the way to your house until Wade grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you in the opposite direction.

“Wade!” You complained, shoving his hand off your shirt.

“First, you’re going the wrong way, second you were about to run into a lamppost. I should be hearing, thank you Wade!” He clasped his hands together, looking up at the sky. “You’re my lifesaver, Wade!’” He mocked in a high pitched tone.

“Thank you Wade, o my Wade, how can I ever repay you?” You spoke sarcastically, giggling at the end.

“See? That’s exactly what I meant.”

[httpsobi]

YOU...YOU CAN DO THAT? “a spider-reader x team"

WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, they/them (gender neutral) reader addressed as spider cause if you can't tell i'm very creative, inspired by miles morales spiderman cause hes my fav, no beta we die like aunts and uncles in spiderman movies/comics, canon-typical violence (not heavily detailed).

A/N + to the anon who requested this nearly a year ago, i'm so sorry pookie the writer block put me in a author coma of sorts. despite this being a year late and trash, i hope you enjoy regardless, and i'm hoping to get more active with my writing again! enjoyyyyyy!

REQUEST + "Oops here I am again (the same anon who requested a reader with spider like abilities).. I forgot to specify 😭 but like maybe could you do idk a first meeting between the YJ and the reader (they/them btw)? Would they be creeped out with the readers' abilities or would it go like 'oh wooooow. Show us how it works!'?"

KF & AQ "Kid!" Kid Flash turns to Spider as he sprints across the buildings adjacent to them. They struggle to match his pace, but as he slows to stick his landing, they manage to catch up and yell at a simple instruction that nearly has him freezing in his tracks out of horror.

"Jump!"

"What?" They flinch at the loud screech that pierces through their earpiece. "No way- are you crazy?!"

"Just-"

Their eyes widen as they watch the monster they've been trying to lead away from the populated city centre leaps into the air behind him.

"-do it!"

Kid Flash hesitates for a moment, they can see it on his face, ready to ignore their request when the creature lets out a rumbling roar.

The ground shakes under his feet as the monstrous thing lands on the building behind him and his face drops into a comical expression.

He spares it a glance over his shoulder, and with its claws reaching out from him, he takes the leap, narrowly avoiding the sharp nails, but as he flails around in the air, weightless, he wonders-

does he really prefer concrete over nails?

He shuts his eyes, readying himself from an impact that- never comes. Rather, there's something sticking to his stomach before he's being yanked to the side, and then- up.

Instead of the smack of concrete, he hits a person, their arms wrapped around him as they roll both of them through the force.

Kid Flash, finally, shoots up and opens his eyes.

Spider and Kid Flash are sat on their asses with matching shellshocked looks, staring down at the building across of them, where that beast shares a similarly confused look as it watches the street below them.

The two turn to blink at each other, shuffling to their feet as they let out joyous cheers that sound almost like screams (poor Kaldur's ears can testify), arms wrapped around each other as they jump with like two middle aged men who's football team just scored the final point.

"Dude, we did that!"

"Right?! I thought I was gonna fall to my death but then you just-!"

"I didn't even know how I did that! It was sheer animal instinct-"

Needless to say, Kaldur was less than happy, and no more "jumping-off-the-building-and-praying" was permitted or attempted. 

Not around Kaldur anyway.

ART & SUP Superboy fails to punch through it, the cage simply folding and stretching around his fist before it pushes him, his shoulder bumping into Artemis'.

"Are we stuck in here until Robin gets back?" Artemis asks with a irritated sigh, turning to look at Spider.

They seem mystified, a mischievous glint in their eyes that she can make out through the big cartoonish eyes of the mask as they take in the strange cage.

Their hands press against the cage, palm flat as they give it a little experimental shove before she can make out their eyebrows rising.

Their palms start to spark, and the red hue of the cage begins to light up a pale blue, "Nope."

The crackles of electricity grow louder and Artemis and Superboy step back just as an awful cracking sounds and-

The cage bursts around them, Spider's sent flying back into Artemis, who's then sent back into Superboy and the three hit the floor with matching grunts.

There's a moment of silence, before Artemis is shoving Spider off of her and rolling off of Superboy herself. As the three sit themselves up slowly, Artemis can make out Spider nodding to themselves with what she thinks is pride.

"I didn't know you could do that." Superboy comments plainly as the three slowly get back to their feet.

Blinking at him, Spider wiggles their fingers at him with a smile.

"Me neither."

MG & ROB With a grunt, Robin sits up with a grimace, hand on his head as his eyes readjusts when he manages to make out Bane stood just in his eye-line.

Bane isn't looking at him though, instead the man's eyes are trained on Miss Martian floating in the air, hands outstretched out in front of her.

She's clearly too busy managing her telekinesis to notice the hulking man anger as he grabs onto one of the many large pieces of machinery lying around the abandoned factory and prepares to ambush her. 

Miss Martian, watch out!

Robin's voice rings out in her head, and M'gann whips around, eyes landing on Bane.

Before either of them can react, something is suddenly flying through the air and with a loud thwack- Bane is lying on the floor, looking a lot less angry and unconscious. Now up on his feet, Robin slowly approaches Bane, M'gann landing on his side as the pair blink down at whatever hit him.

Upon inspection, it's the barrel tank that those cement trucks carry. Empty, sure, but Robin's not surprised that guy was put to bed.

What's more surprising?

"Woooo, my aim's getting good, no?" Spider grins, bouncing on their feet as they approach the two.

"You... you threw that?" Miss Martian asks carefully.

"Duh, who else?"

"Oh. Well, thank you." She offers, a little dumbfounded but Spider doesn't seem to notice.

"How?" Spider blinks at Robin, who's been silently gawking at them as they approach.

"What do you mean, 'how'? I just threw it. "

Robin sputters at them, left eye twitching under his mask as he watches them stretch their arms out over their head with no care in the world.

"That's not- that's impossible?"

"Nuh, uh! Just grab, do a couple spins to get some speed and let go- works pretty well."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?! I'm plenty strong!"

Safe to say that Robin made them perform a couple of strength tests when they got back to the cave, and now Robin's worried Spider might not be aware of the fact that most people can't just throw around cement trucks.

all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.

[theghostiedyke]

no no no you [redacted totally gender neutral usage of "guys" despite being used to address only women and definitely not blatant misgendering]. Us transandrophobia truthers love and support transfemmes. Just not when they hold us accountable. Or try to educate us on intersectionality as a concept. Cause that means that trans women think all transmascs ever aren't oppressed in any way. That's why we need a special word too. What? We also dont piss on the poor!! Whats reading comprehension?

Didn't you know that TransUnity is when you go around collecting screenshots of trans folks and put them side by side with literal actual fascists and call transwomen who are against this TERFs?

This surely ISN'T infighting itself and is what's needed to mend the divide in the trans community.

[acexliety]

The Haunted Manor

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Gender Neutral writing

English is not my first language, I'm sorry if I made any errors

・・・・・

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Warnings: none Summary: Bakugo's not scared of no ghost

The old manor loomed before you, darkened windows like hollow eyes staring down at your group as you all approached the entrance. The Halloween night was perfect for a little spook hunt, or at least that’s what Mina and Kirishima had been saying all week as they hyped up this supposedly haunted house on the outskirts of town. Now, standing on the creaky porch, you weren’t so sure this was a good idea. Kaminari shivered beside you, holding his phone up to light the way, and you glanced around at your friends to catch their equally uncertain expressions.

“Well,” Kirishima said, giving a loud clap that made everyone jump. “We’ve come all this way. Time to see if this place is really haunted, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo muttered, hands shoved in his pockets, trying to look unimpressed even as his gaze swept over the cracked, dusty windows. “Probably just a run-down house with bad plumbing.”

The moment you all stepped inside, though, the air grew heavy. The door creaked shut behind you, and a hush fell over the group as you took in the musty, dimly lit foyer, its peeling wallpaper and heavy, dusty furniture giving it an eerie stillness. Todoroki held up a flashlight, casting long shadows across the hall, while Jirou and Sero tried to stifle their laughter, obviously trying to keep it together.

“Hey,” Mina whispered, elbowing you and Bakugo. “First one to get scared loses.”

“Fine by me. I’m not scared of anything,” Bakugo huffed, glancing at you with a challenging look. “You?”

“I’m good,” you replied, trying to match his tone despite the chill crawling down your spine.

You didn’t miss the way Bakugo subtly inched closer, his hand brushing against yours briefly before he cleared his throat and shoved his hands back in his pockets, though he stayed at your side.

As you explored deeper, eerie sounds began to echo through the house—a creak here, a faint whisper there. Kaminari jumped at every noise, practically clinging to Kirishima, who tried to put on a brave face despite his own wide-eyed stare.

“Did anyone else just hear that?” Izuku’s voice broke the silence, his eyes darting toward a dark hallway. You all listened intently, but there was only silence.

“See? Nothi—” Bakugo started, but a loud thump from the floor above made everyone jump.

“Okay, who did that?” Kaminari yelped, looking around. The group fell silent, realizing that no one had been upstairs.

“Alright, this is getting weird,” Sero mumbled, inching back.

You all crept forward, trying to keep as quiet as possible, though the occasional creak of the floor made it impossible to avoid startling each other. Just as you reached the base of a grand, dusty staircase, a sudden, hollow groan filled the air. Everyone froze.

"Was that… a door opening?" Jirou whispered, her hand hovering over her earjacks.

Bakugo moved closer to you, gripping your arm and gently nudging you behind him as he scanned the shadows. "Tch, probably just the wind. Or a rat. Or—"

Another loud bang cut him off, and the chandelier above rattled, swaying ominously. You grabbed onto Bakugo’s jacket, and he quickly pulled you close, his arm coming protectively around you as he narrowed his eyes at the shadows.

“Stay close,” he whispered, his voice gruff, but you noticed the way he held you tightly, as if he didn’t trust whatever was lurking in the manor.

Mina turned to the group, trying to laugh it off. “This… this has to be a prank, right?”

“Are you sure you didn’t bring anything with you, Kaminari?” Sero asked, though his voice was tinged with genuine worry.

“Dude, I don’t play with ghosts! That’s too creepy!” Kaminari squeaked.

Suddenly, the door leading to the basement creaked open on its own, the rusty hinges groaning like a scream. Everyone backed away, but Bakugo kept his arm around you, his gaze trained on the now-open doorway. Faint, echoing footsteps could be heard from somewhere deep in the house.

Todoroki pointed his flashlight toward the stairs, his face impassive but his shoulders tense. “Is… anyone else feeling cold?”

As if on cue, an icy breeze brushed past, flickering the dim light and making the shadows stretch even longer. Everyone was silent, barely daring to breathe, and in that moment, Bakugo instinctively pulled you even closer, his eyes darting around as if daring whatever was haunting the house to show itself.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, feeling a strange flutter in your chest.

“Making sure you don’t go running off in a panic, obviously,” he muttered, his cheeks a faint shade of pink despite the darkness.

“Me?” You arched an eyebrow, glancing down to see his hand gripping yours tightly. “Looks like you’re the one holding on for dear life.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, but his hand stayed firmly in place.

Then, as if something had decided to play with your nerves even more, the radio Kaminari had tucked in his bag suddenly crackled to life, an eerie static filling the air. He fumbled with it, his hands shaking as he tried to turn it off, but the static only grew louder, and faint whispers could be heard beneath the noise.

"That's it. We’re out of here," Jirou said, grabbing Kaminari and pulling him toward the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Are you kidding me? Did someone lock this from the outside?”

A chill ran through the group, and suddenly, every piece of furniture in the room creaked and shifted, as if something invisible was moving it all at once. You could barely believe it, and judging by the stunned silence from your friends, they were equally freaked out. Sero let out a nervous laugh that quickly faded.

"Alright, who’s playing with us?" Kirishima called out, his voice a little less steady than before.

Then, a loud bang came from the kitchen, and a chair slid across the room by itself. You shrieked, clutching onto Bakugo, who had moved in front of you, his glare fierce.

“Alright, I don’t know what kind of trick this is,” Bakugo said, his voice loud enough to echo. “But I’m not scared of a stupid ghost!”

In that moment, you felt a surge of bravery and nudged him. “You sound pretty scared.”

“Yeah? Then why are you glued to my side, huh?” he shot back, his cheeks still faintly red. Despite his attempt to sound tough, he kept his grip on you.

Eventually, after a few more attempts, the group managed to shove the door open, and you all practically fell out onto the front lawn, everyone laughing and shaking as you caught your breath.

Bakugo muttered under his breath, still not letting go of your hand. “What a waste of time. Told you all it was probably just creaky floors and rats.”

But even as he complained, he didn’t let go of your hand until you reached the sidewalk. Finally, with a huff, he let go, running a hand through his hair. You caught his eye, and he smirked, a faint softness in his gaze.

“You handled that pretty well,” you teased.

“You’re the one who clung to me the whole time!” he retorted, though his smile gave him away.

⭑.ᐟ

Thank you for reading !!

[valentine-writes]

hii!! i was wondering if you could write headcanons for like the main four spider-kids (miles, gwen, pavitr and hobie) with a reader who like smacks people when they laugh really hard? preferably w/ a reader thats a spider-person but its up to you! :3

aggressive affection!

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, dude used once in a gender neutral way, mentions of bruising and minor injuries (but nothing crazy), spider-person reader, reader forgetting that being a spider-person makes them stronger,,, um. (°ー°〃) oops!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, miles morales, and pavitr prabhakar

author's note: YES I CAN YES I CAN!! this prompt iz so funny AUWWUDH I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE!!! つ﹏⊂ also super excited 2 get to write more of them becuz AWUDGWAAHWGHWAGUAGH I LOVE THESE CHARACTERZ SMM,,, also excuse me if there's more repetition or typos than usual,,, im eepy ( つ᷄ ‸･ )

GWEN STACY headcanons

▸ the first one to fall victim to your little habit. she doesn't mind in the slightest, mainly because she's generally pretty welcome to friendly touches- even if it is slightly more aggressive than she had expected. frankly, you could've literally bitten her and she probably would've reacted the same.

she's a little awkward about it at first, pausing mid laughter as you deliver playful hits to her shoulder and bicep. she playfully shoves you away at first, like, "haha– what– what are you doing–" but quickly warms up to it

▸ here's the thing though. she 100% will do it back. if you're both joking around and losing it over something, you end up hitting each other through laughter. and it'll INTENSIFY. at some points, everyone's wondering if you two are actually beefing or not ur not. itz the way u show affection 2 one another,,, in the strangest manner

when you're assigned on missions with her, you usually end up chatting– and then you find something hilarious to giggle abt and everything goes off the rails

y'all will return to HQ bruised asf like "nah man the anomaly didn't even touch us."

jessica and miguel DEF pick up the fact y'all goof off and beat each other up before even locating the anomaly HWJEJNDNE

unfortunately– gwen is slowly paired less with you on missions becuz of this. they can't have you distracting one another a girl can never have fun fr </3

nothing that some good behaviour can't fix! just try not to give each other a complete smackdown while on duty and you'll be paired together again in no time! hopefully...

▸ both you and gwen forget that being spider-people involves super strength. and though you're both used to taking a blow or two, it stands plain and obvious that the two of you can get carried away. gwen especially. she's just a little rough sometimes– not like she means to be.

sometimes, the dull ache from the bruises she left leave you wondering if you're both a little too funny for your own good. at least she makes sure to take care of it and hold back,, when she can.

when it's your turn to get carried away, she sees your eyes widen as you splutter a million apologies to her. but every time you deliver one hit too hard, she insists it never hurts much as you think.

"dude, it's okay. you can chill out." gwen reassures. "besides, i'm built tougher than that."

she flashes a grin at you, and it's almost convincing. like she didn't even feel a thing. you know better though– gwen definitely has days where she's more sore than she'd like to be because of you. not like she'd ever admit. she likes the random play fights between the two of you.

though, you will admit that the amount of trips to the infirmary in search of ice packs is getting just the teeniest bit absurd. people are starting to ask questions at HQ-- which is fine. the frozen bag of peas gwen offers to you for your injuries works just as good as any ice pack ...it's been sitting in the bottom of her freezer for God Knows How Long but you don't need to know that

HOBIE BROWN headcanons:

▸ you see how this guy interacts with people???

hobie's used to friendly touches, and initiates physical contact without overthinking it. that little shoulder shake he does w/ miles makes me smile everytime i heart hobie. ALSO AAUWHEHWH LEBRON AND DWAYNE'S HANDSHAKE BEING HOBIE'S AND PAV'S?? I ADORE.

you really think something as little as a few friendly punches and hits bothers hobie "forehead-kissing-the-homies-goodnight" brown??? /lh + /hj but man platonic physical affection hobie. like. hear me on this one.

▸ he's 100% cool with it– actually initiated it before you did. nothing crazy, a light smack on your back or arm as he laughed with

eventually, while joking around with you, realized you had the same habit

you end up hitting each other quite a bit– but he's not as accidentally aggressive as gwen is. laughing with hobie won't get you hospitalized, he's cognizant enough with his strength to know how much to hold back.

▸ then again, there are times where you get carried away. hobie's quick to shake it off, not feeling the effect of the hit until later– if you notice and apologize, he'll just shake his head and shrug

"nah, nah– it's fine." he insists, chuckling a bit as he rubs the spot where you smacked him. "there's been worse."

and yes, objectively, you know that's true– but you both fight villains in your everyday life. of course there's going to be worse than just a hit too hard. he won't accept an ice pack– but will joke that you could just kiss it better instead

that earns a groan from you, smacking him again in the arm for good measure as he snickers

MILES MORALES headcanons:

▸ doesn't hate it!! not against it!!! find it surprising at first. he didn't expect a playful punch to his arm in response to his little joke, but watching as you giggled uncontrollably, hitting him lightly– he decided that he didn't mind too much

he knows you don't mean any harm, so it's cool with him! he's rolling with the punches literally every time you two are losing it

▸ if you land a smack on him that ends up being a little too hard, he'll definitely try to play it off awkwardly, rubbing it and nervously laughing when you ask if he's okay

"oh sh–" you promptly stop, your smile fading as concern floods your face. he winced slightly at your last hit and it was much to obvious to ignore. "you good, miles? i am so sorry–"

"me? yeah, yeah– it's cool!" he replies dismissively, giving you the lightest punch back. miles laughs nervously at your completely unconvinced expression.

"bro. cmon. be real."

"that? hah– nahh. barely felt it." spoilers!!! he felt it

you keep it in mind to dial it back a bit when with miles, because he barely hits back and hates admitting when it actually hurts.

you'll get an occasional "ow–" with a little chuckle, but he refuses to acknowledge that you might be a bit too rough. he jus doesn't wanna hurt feelings man :(

you're his friend who gets a little too carried away sometimes– and that's fine!!! besides, he can't let gwen and hobie have all the fun.

"you holding back on me?" he asks you, noticing your hits have gotten weaker.

"what's it to you?"

"i can handle it. 's fine!! really!" miles says. there's a beat of silence as you stare at him incredulously.

"and you didn't bruise last time?." you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"yeah."

"...say swear."

miles raises his hands, sighing. "ok, look–" HE WANTZ 2 ROUGHHOUSE W/ HIS FRIEND TOO OK (*ﾉε｀*) besides. u and gwen and hobie seem to have so much fun w/ it,,

▸ because of his stubbornness, you oblige, pulling your punches just a little less when having a little laughing fit with him.

as a result, miles develops a habit deflecting your hits while absolutely losing it. gently shoving your hands away as you smack him, both of you doubling over laughter

miles will say sumn he knows you'll find a lil too funny and just,,, *cue continuous hitting and blocking as he predicts literally Every Movement you make* he's literally learned to parry becuz of u HAJWBDKDNEN

PAVITR PRABHAKAR headcanons:

▸ the type to pretend to beat up his friends while making punching noises when he's bored

he's just lightly tapping u with his knuckles going "pow– pow pow– bam–" under his breath HANWJENDN IM SORRY I FIND THIS FUNNY. i also. do this. (｡･･｡).

and ur like "...uh. ok."

he's def not opposed to it!! when he has the energy, he's all for it!!! pavitr's playfully hitting, shoving you away, gasping for air as the two of you giggle over something that's only really funny to the two of you.

he's pretty energetic most of the time, and it manifests as you "brawl" with each other as you laugh over some stupid joke.

▸ when you hit him a little too hard, most of the time, he doesn't even notice until the aftermath manifests as a bruise or two on his arms– but even then he doesn't care.

however,,, there are occasions where he initiates it, laughing and smacking you– and when you're laughing with him, raising your hand to hit back, he'll gasp dramatically, recoil instantly and get all dramatic about it i'm projecting all the things i do onto pav i bet u cant tell /sarc

pav the minute you decide to try and get him back– bar for bar, word for word:

he's just a little guy,, a little guyy,,, nooo,,, itz also his birthday,, he's a little birthday boy– HWJWBDN SORRY THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS

this is a bit that he drags on FOREVERRR like itz the funniest thing in the world

▸ ALL of his hits are a little too hard. he does the fake beat up thing a lot but when you two are roughhousing, you're the one reminding him to chill out through stifled laughs

he'll immediately soften the blows quickly at your request, knowing it's probably best for you to remain as uninjured as possible when not doing mission. can't have your shit rocked before you even face a villain!!! his hits end up somewhere between hobie's and gwen's– an almost perfect middle (*´꒳`*)

almost.

occasionally, he'll literally just... take the hits. not like miles where he's deflecting. he's jus standing there laughing while you smack him. which is a concerning sight for anyone who isn't used to your antics!!!

this happened in hq once and peter b, who happened to be walking by, lowkey thought you were straight up attacking pav

upon hearing the two of you giggling though, he figured that he wasn't witnessing an act of violence and didn't have to step in

[rotthepoet]

Continuing my mean lorenzo berkshire brainrot, he is so enemies to lovers coded.

Like he’s a 1990’s movie bully. Yknow that scene where Malfoy sends Potter a little animated note of him being struck by lightning??(i feel like it was prisoner of azkaban) yeah imagine that being thrown at your head. Like. Everyday in class

Hes like mean and pathetic and its WILD dude.

He so just shoves you when no ones looking- straight up pushes you into a fountain-

You dont even know what you did to get on his bad side! He doesnt even remember!

Its probably because this pretty(gender neutral) person(you) showed him up in class after he answered a question embarrassingly wrong. He wasnt a fan of that. No one can be that good looking and smart at the same time, that bitch is cheating!

He will be your downfall if you let him. Like. Sabotaging all the way. Your life will be hell.

His friends kinda noticed how hes different around you tho. Like he can be mean but not VIOLENT.

Its Theo that figures out its a crush. And he doesnt let him live it down.

“Ohhh there goes your girlfriend, gonna go trip her again to see up her skirt you creep?”

Things like that but im not a posh Italian boy in a British boarding school so, like, phrase it better.

There are two ways you could get him to stop.

Slapping him or crying infront of him.

Both would make him slow tf down and short circuit.

1. If you slap him, hes going to look down at you with the dumbest look. Like. No thoughts behind those wide eyes. Scream at him, shove him, stomp away. he raises a hand to his cheek and grins so big because you touched him! He lowkey gets a little bit ✨freaky✨and imagines it all over again later. The bullying stops. He cant stop staring at you and following you everywhere though. Youre not sure which is worse lmao.

2. Bless your heart if you cry infront of him. He feels so bad suddenly its not even funny. Hes like half hugging you awkwardly to ‘comfort’ you and is lowkey trying to apologize without saying the words “im sorry” its kinda just pathetic and weird. If you run away crying he feels like a dick and leaves you alone for a bit :/ the cutie is crying and its his fault wtf this is so twisted! He might buy you a little treat to make up for it.

Once he falls he falls HARD. like downright obsessed. Blaise had to knock him upside the head because he wouldn’t shut up about you.

He’ll be talking to a girl and see you and literally push her away by the head so he can walk and talk to at you.

“Hey hows your day going? Did you do something with your hair? Youre going to potions, yeah? Let me walk you.”

And youre like. What?? He was telling you that you reek not even a month ago?? Is he gaslighting you? This new form of bullying is weirddd

and then he starts presenting you with gifts and trying to hold your hand like wtf?? He blows you a kiss from his broom on the quidditch field. Steals the damn mic and says “this win was for ___” and points at you and youre like “hello??? Who are you?? Get away from me?”

But eventually you fold and it turns out hes a nice guy. Somehow. You sometimes look baxk and think “how did i get here?? Where the hell am i??” But then he gives you a big ol smooch and it all gets better.

[grimesgirlyxoxo]

You belong to me

Jealous negan x f!reader

Summary: From the moment you arrived to the sanctuary, Negan couldn't take his eyes of you, he wanted you all for himself but your shitty boyfriend was in his way.

Notes: age gap, season 7-8 negan, cursing, gore, no smutt for now probably in part if yall want, sorry for the grammar it sucks i know, English isn't first language.

P.S.: if you are a male or a genter neutral person comment if you want a story involving your pronouns. And also its my first fanfic :)

You and your boyfriend of five years were hunting for food in the middle of the forest. You hadn't eaten for a whole two days, just some nuts and water from the river. It was getting harder and harder for you, each day passing with a new challenge.

He was mad at you for no reason, like it was you, the reason the apocalypse started. You tried to comfort him as usual but he was getting colder than the last time you tried.

"Hey" you tried to grab his shoulder, you were walking behind him. Now you felt his grip around your wrist throwing out aggressively from his shoulder.

"Don't fucking touch me." He said shouting at you, his eyes in the path. He was too ashamed to look at you.

"Why are you acting so weird? This isn't you anymore. When this damn apocalypse started you distant your self from me. You haven't touched me for months, you haven't kissed me , hugged me anything. Just tell me what's wrong?" Your both hands were crossed. You stopped waiting for an answer.

"You are the problem. You are bad luck. You are the reason my parents are dead. I should've saved them first and leaving you behind. But you wanted to be my priority." He got closer to you, his hands point at you like you were the problem for everything.

"I didn't say you shouldn't save them first, I knew how to defend my self and your car had plenty of space for all of us. You could've wait or something" you said, feeling proud of yourself.

After these words came out of your mouth he didn't talk to you, he didn't even look at you. He was too embarrassed or angry, who knows.

All of those where true. The day of the downfall, sirens were beeping like a crazy maniac dude. The dead infested Mike's(bf) childhood home, located in Virginia, the place we were staying for holidays.

Mike when he saw the dead bodies walking around, eating whatever they could find outside, every human, no matter skin, gender or how they look, he panicked. His mind blurry, he saw me in the end of the hallway and grabbed my hand to get quickly to the car. As we went downstairs we could hear his parents shouting in pain. Walkers bit them. They were everywhere in the house, he heard their screams but choose not to save them...

The sun was setting slowly, leaving behind a beautiful pink colour in the sky. You looked up, your mind wondering off, nostalgic memories spinning around. The family table filled with goodies after the church and the afternoon sitting around eating lunch, every Saturday day you and your girlfriends going to a shitty club ,your annoying boss and the moldy kitchen maybe not your job but you preferred spending your time there than finding somewhere to sleep.

One particular moment lived in your head forever, how you met him, every time he was mean to you you would remember the first time you saw him. It was love at first sight in a concert of your favourite, (your band choice), loud music was fading out in the moment, everything went slow surprisingly, feeling the lights on you and him, hopping he felt the same.

Your thoughts were so strong that your hearing faded, your eyes focused in the sky and your feet couldn't feel the ground, it felt walking in the clouds.

You lost your balance suddenly, falling in your butt, your back was in pain so is your leg but way worst. Your leg was trapped in a rusty bear trap. You shouted your boyfriend to help you out, trying to focus your eyes on him through your tears.

"Whya re you just standing there?! Help me!" You said loudly.

His gaze wasn't on you but behind you, you recognized a familiar sound, it was the dead. Since they rised from the ground, your peace was lost.

Some excuses were mumbled from his mouth, leaving you behind running. That's it... Your fate was accepted. Your life would disappear slowly each bite they took.

Closing your eyes and thinking your loved ones, if you would find some of them in the afterlife. Crying and whimpering from the pain, you heard several gun shots, a group of five men were behind you killing the dead.

"Someone help her! Take her to the sanctuary" a bald man said firing the gun.

Someone rushed removing the trap from your leg and carrying into his arms. You were in and out of consciousness. Battling with the urge to close your eyes but failing.

"Goodmorning sleepyhead" the first words you heard as soon you woke up. Your eyes slowly scanned the white, hospital looking room. Your head turning slowly to the man's voice.

You felt his mysterious aura. Something about this man attracted you. It grew an unusual interest on him. You wanted to know him better. Your eyes met his, you couldn't take your eyes off his, dark brown like wood, like the coffee you drank every morning at six to keep you at work.

All black outfit, but his leather jacket popped out more. Strange things about him. He was sitting in a chair, a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire was resting to his shoulder, you could see blood stains on it, damn.

"I- where am i?" You asked confused looking around

"Home" he said smiling, laying back to his chair spreading his legs a little.

"The... There was a man with me. What happened? Is he dead?" You asked suspiciously. You kinda hoped he died after what he did to you but some part of you want him alive.

"Is he your boyfriend? Husband? Brother?" Before he says more possibilities you cut him off and answer "boyfriend. of five years". His eyes looked down and later up raising his eyebrows slightly.

"And he hasn't put a ring on you yet?" He was suspicious

"He isn't ready.. he wasn't , I better say"

"Bullshit" he lets out a scoff while getting up. "Living here is simple. You work of me and i guarantee food and protection do you understand? We live here by the rules. You break one ,you have to be punished by me. Anything you make, anything you do , any move you do it belongs to me. You belong to me" he said pointing his finger at you. "Do you understand?"

You nodded in response, you looked down to your hands, he was demanding, he wanted everything, everything belonged to him even you, something you found ridiculous even you didn't claim to belong only to your boyfriend but the opposite, you claimed him.

"Good girl, I love when people listen to me" he said pointing lucille to your direction. "Get up, lets see, can you walk?" He asked putting down lucille.

"I don't thing so" you responded, your tone a little cold.

It felt like it had been ages since you moved your body. Slowly your body rested on a wooden table leaving the touch slowly and quietly. When you think you could walk with no problem, you lost your balance in result of falling in the wood floor.

A weird sensation was around your waist, it was his arm grabbing you and making sure you won't drop down. He was quite strong for his age leaving you a surprised look.

He pulled you back, still his hand there.

Without a warning, his face was closed to yours when you turned to look at him. Your lips almost touching. You noticed his eyes, making it hard to not look away. A smile curled up on his lips driving you crazy and nervous. He noticed you blushing growing ths smile on his lips.

"Do I make you nervous darling?" He said, his voice deeper than usual, melting your insides. Your legs too weak to respond to the ground, trembling. You were shaking, how did he do that. Every minute he looked more handsome and charming than the last glance.

*No no no I have a boyfriend that I love dearly and wouldn't look romantically another man*

"Fuck.." you let a sigh. "My leg still hurts"

"Rest for now. Untill then I will find something you will be useful at" he said putting you down to the bed and left slowly, gazing upon you one last time before closing the door.

From then on his obsession with you was born. His mind full of you , nothing else. Making it hard to focus on everything he does. He wanted you for himself. He had to get rid off your stupid boyfriend but how.

Author note: Hey sorry if this chapter was small but I wanted to see if people were interested more. Let me know guys!!!

[canisguts]

greenie

pairings: platonic ted x gender neutral reader, platonic schlatt x gender neutral reader

pronouns used: they/them

summary: schlatt + ted helping you through a green-out (separate drabbles)

trigger warnings: vomiting, greening out, marijuana

w.c: 1,018

ted nivison

you knew you were going to green out; you hadn’t smoked in weeks. but you still overdid yourself, smoking a joint and a half with your close friend, ted nivison. 

he knew almost immediately when your voice trailed off that you were gonna green. so, like the good friend he was, he got up from his seat and went to the kitchen to fetch you some snacks and aplenty of water before coming back out to the living room. 

“here,” he pressed the bottle of water against your cheek until you grabbed it from him, “drink up.” setting the snacks on the table in front of you, he brought a hand to the crown of your spine and massaged gently. 

you hummed a ‘thank you’, taking slow gulps of water as he continued to alleviate your anxiety. 

after a few moments, you tried to munch on some crackers. but, to your misfortune, your mind rejected it, believing that if you ate anything you’d get sick immediately. though, with a bit of encouragement from ted, you took a small bite and chased it down with water. 

it wasn’t too long after that you were hunched over the toilet, ted kneeling next to you with a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently as a way to comfort you. you hadn’t thrown up yet; you were mostly just dry heaving. but it still freaked you the fuck out. 

“teddy...?” your voice was dry and ragged. you could’ve sworn you tasted your snack from last week in your saliva. ted squeezed your shoulder again, moving his other hand up and down your spine. 

“’m right here, dude. i've got you.” 

you took a deep, shaky breath, reaching for the bottled water on the bathroom sink and taking a drink. “god, i feel like i'm gonna die.” you propped your elbow on the toilet seat, leaning against your palm for support. “can you, um... can you turn on--” 

before you could finish your sentence, ted was already pulling out his phone to go to your spotify account. you laughed dryly when you heard ‘call this # now’ by the garden play from the speakerphone. 

“you know me so well.” you hummed. ted chuckled. 

“i’d hope so, you’re my best friend.” 

your heart melted at hearing that. “you’re my best friend, too.” 

you threw up almost immediately after that, heaving your guts out while ted pulled your hair away from your face while simultaneously rubbing your back as a form of comfort. 

“there you go, dude, there you go.” 

you couldn’t handle the smell; it was wafting up into your nostrils and making you want to throw up more. “fuck, this sucks.” 

ted pulled out some kleenex from its box, wiping the gunk-filled saliva off of your chin. 

“i know, i know. you're doing great though, dude, just try to relax.” he motioned to the bottle water; you nodded, and he grabbed it, twisting the cap off and putting it to your lips. you reached your hand up, but he shook his head. 

“i got it, just... open your mouth.” 

you do so, ted pouring some water in slowly. you cringed at the taste of the acidic spit mixing with the water and washing down your throat. 

“that’s fuckin’ rancid, jesus fuck.” 

ted chuckled softly brushing your cheek with the pad of his thumb gently. “you feel a little better though, don’t you?” 

you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. “yeah.” 

after a few more minutes of hunching over the toilet in case you threw up again, you were in bed with ted, scrolling through netflix to find something to watch. you leaned against ted, resting your head on his shoulder with a contented hum. he smiled, wrapping an arm around you and clicking on one of your favorite shows. 

“teddy?” you whispered; he hummed in response. “thank you.” 

ted smiled and gave your shoulder a squeeze. 

“anytime.” 

jschlatt

"fuck...” 

you're hunched over the toilet, dry heaving your guts out. you didn’t understand why you were so close to greening; you didn’t even get that high.  

or, at least that’s what you thought. in reality, you’d gotten pretty fucked up, and the little voice in the back of your conscience knew it; you were just in denial. 

a knock wrapped against the bathroom door, and you didn’t even need to guess who was on the other side before it opened. 

“hey, greenie, food and water.” schlatt said, setting the snacks down on the sink counter before handing you the bottled water. “drink up.” 

you reached out and grabbed it, thankful that he’d already unscrewed the cap as you drank. schlatt, big arms crossed over his chest, can’t help but chuckle. 

“jesus christ, you’re fucked.” 

you groaned, flipping him the bird. “get fucked.” 

“hey, don’t gimme that. you're the one that went ham on the weed.” 

“i didn’t smoke that much!” 

schlatt laughed in disbelief. “not that much? you had three and a half joints, dumbass!” 

you broke out into a small fit of dry laughter, still hunched over the toilet. 

“it’s not usually this bad.” you defended, taking another swig of water. 

schlatt huffed. “coulda fooled me.”  

after a few more minutes of him distracting you, you finally had your ‘cleansing barf’, schlatt having to pull your hair into a half-done bun as you hacked up whatever snacks you’d eaten earlier. 

you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as the vomiting subsided. schlatt patted your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze before speaking, 

“think you can move?” 

“nuh-uh.” you mumbled. 

“well, you’re gonna have to.” 

after a few moments of back and forth, he finally got you into bed, head in his lap as he scrolled through youtube, trying to find some random video to play. his hand patted your head, playing with your hair as he finally chose a video. you hummed, eyes puffy and half-lidded. 

“mm, schlatt?” you muttered; he hummed in response. “thank you.” 

you couldn’t see his face from where you were laying, but you knew there was a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“yeah, don’t mention it.”

———

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! uh, i realize i never got that birthday schlatt fic out like i said i was going to, and i dunno if it's tooooo late for one or not, but i might do like a birthday-reader fic or something with him + maybe ted to make up for it.

[pyrodolls]

sugar daddy! johnny cage x reader hcs

warnings: established relationship, gender neutral reader, slight angst if you squint

summary: sfw hcs of johnny cage being a sugar daddy in your relationship

a/n: howdy y’all. guess what. i wrote this outta nowhere cuz i saw someone thirsting for a sugar daddy johnny sooooo. here we are. i love writing this goofy goober hes so silly. sorry for all my late updates these days btw. ive had this in my drafts for weeks istg.

- dating a rich dude has its perks. like being spoiled 24/7!

- johnny doesn’t have a specific love language. but if he had to have one, it would be gift giving.

- it’s not *just* because he has the financial stability to do so, but he loves showing off his knowledge of your taste by giving you gifts catered towards your interests.

- if you ever happen to dislike something he got, even if you hid your disapproval, johnny would immediately notice and replace it. only the best for his beloved!

- he probably would notice right away if you didn’t like something. you don’t show it with your face, but he can just *tell* sometimes. it’s like a gut feeling to him. spidey senses, even. sugar daddy senses.

- ��johnny, there’s no need to waste your time returning it. i like it, i swear!”

- “no you don’t. but no worries, honey. i’ll be back in a jiffy! i’ll come back with an even better gift. a gift so good, it’ll change your life! trust me.”

- if you ever mention that you like something, johnny would be searching for it in every store he enters and he would spend hours looking it up online. he wouldn’t just buy *all* the stuff he sees for you, he must find only the best of the best for you.

- let’s say you mentioned that you liked ducks one time. that night before going to sleep in your shared bed, johnny would turn away from you and he’d search all over the internet for anything with ducks on it. or a giant duck plush. you would try to look over his shoulder to see what he’s searching for, but he’d childishly wiggle his finger in front of your face and say “no peeking!”

- expect large packages to show up at your door every day. johnny loves online shopping, and you’d have to pry his phone away from his fingers to stop his addiction.

- 90% of the packages aren’t even for him. most of it is for you. clothes he thinks would look great on you and show off your body, accessories you showed the slightest bit of interest in, or cds/vinyl of your favorite artists (some are even signed, thanks to johnny’s connections.)

- he doesn’t want you to pay him back. johnny spoils you because he loves you. he is fully aware that he doesn’t have to. it’s just his way of showing that he loves you and he can provide for you for the rest of your life, if you’d let him.

- you don’t even have to lift a single finger! let him buy you clothes and food and other necessities, he loves doing so.

- no matter how badly you wish to pay him back, johnny would not let you. he doesn’t want you to pay him back as if it’s debt. all he wants in return is your affection and validation.

- he would never admit it, but he craves validation from you all the time. he lost his ex-wife because he was so caught up in the money and fame in his life, and he doesn’t want to repeat history. if he ever accidentally overwhelmed you with his job or money, he would feel extremely guilty about it. it’s pretty much his greatest fear.

- overall, johnny loves spoiling you. you’re such a sweet and precious thing, so of course he must treat you well! you deserve the greatest luxuries he can provide, whether you asked for it or not. if you ever ask for anything, don’t feel like a brat, he wouldn’t mind! in fact, he would love to grant your wishes every time you ask for a certain gift. if not, no worries. he can learn your likes and dislikes the longer you’re together, no need to tell him what you want. he’ll figure it out.

[ghouldtime]

I need more neighbor König getting protective over his little neighbor.

I do believe he can get very possessive, though I'm not sure that's the word I'm looking for. But he's lost so much, so many people in his unit and people he had once considered friends. He won't even visit his own mother because he's scared for her safety. Maybe an enemy finds out some way some how about her and takes her as leverage. Now she gets to see colonel konig with his gear and mask and barking orders and not the sweet man she's come to know. How would he react or feel?

Ofc when she realizes it's just him and throws her arms around him

I'm sorry but I'm answering this because this doesn't fall under my characterization of him 😭 I can do the last part maybe one day when I'm not sick and have planned everything out in my mind THOROUGHLY

I know you meant no harm by this either!! This is just a bit of a rambly tangent to describe WHO my König is and why he's that way.

(Also stating that reader in neighbor isn't explicitly a she nor are they little in the same way. I write gender neutral for a reason! They're a grown adult)

Like I know it's just an imagine and possible scenario but for me I just don't really see it happening unless quite literally EVERYTHING went wrong. He's got plan A, plan B, plan C, D, and E. Always be prepared.

But it strikes me as unlikely in happening at all as he is a VERY cautious man and does what he can to remove his identity as König from his residential life. He keeps his gear under lock and key, he doesn't tell personal details of his work, he doesn't want to track ANY of that back. His field life isn't his personal life and he's intent on keeping that separated. Anything that could be used to identify him, he doesn't keep around or its hidden so NO ONE would suspect it.

It would take some absolute major intel and someone working within KorTac itself to follow him like that - even then, dude is a bit paranoid. He's got a security system for a reason, he doesn't wear his mask in public, his body is covered up usually by the long clothes he wears, he's not out socializing - he's just blending in. He's watching cars that pass, he usually keeps curtains drawn or has privacy film, he knows who drives what car and their schedules - so if it's off, he's picking it up.

The way he's protective is in his actions - that's WHY he won't tell details of his work, that's WHY he works hard to ensure personal life doesn't meddle with what his job is, that's WHY he has backup plans. That's WHY he makes sure they get a security system too, if they haven't had one already. That's why he makes sure they're trained in self defense and have at least some form of weapon at the ready, even though they ARE in a safe area. He's protective in the sense of "I'm doing what I can to prevent that aspect of my life from coming into yours" , he's protective in the sense of "I've seen what people are capable of, I've protected myself so I'm protecting you too as much as I can because you matter to me". He's protective in the sense he's caring, he's going out of his way to make sure you're safe.

But he's not going to be protective in the sense of "let me be with you constantly" or "who were you talking to???" or "Why didn't you invite me". Reader is a grown, independent adult and he's aware of that. He's respectful of that and knows they're capable of caring for themselves too. Being IN their life doesn't mean he IS their life. They both operate in their own lives and have their own interests and both, as such, need alone time and time to spend with others too. That's just how to have healthy relationships.

He's very independent himself and having another person around as his friend has taken a significant adjustment period. Honestly, it takes a long time for him to even register that he can go do things with them. He's so used to being on his own that it has to catch up.

And I'm going to say that my König is NEVER possessive towards people. Never. Possessive implies treating them like an object or piece of property, like they're something that's his alone. Possessive means great insecurity in his sense of relationships to the extent where he's manipulating them and monopolizing their lives for his gain.

He's not, because he's a well adjusted adult who has been to therapy throughout his life to manage his own insecurities, especially involving interpersonal relationships. Hell, when he STARTED to even get feelings for neighbor, he brought it up to said therapist just to be sure he's going down the right path. He's built a set of healthy behaviors to cope with unhealthy feelings that may arise.

He gets jealous, especially initially, but once again - he's a grown adult and is capable of handling his own insecurities in a productive way. Everyone is allowed to have more than one person in their lives and a healthy network of relationships matters.

Protective? Yes. Possessive? Absolutely not. He respects independence as he himself is that way. He wants to spend as much time as possible with his neighbor but he realizes that he too needs his own space and time to recharge, and he can't be singularly focused on one person alone. His primary concern is their safety, no matter what they do.

He's lost many comrades and brothers in arms but that's also bound to happen in his line of work. This might sound brutal, but he's desensitized to it to a degree. Losing someone is never easy, but it's expected. The blow will always hurt but when it's always a possibility, it never wanes. He's wary of it and aware of it, and losing any friends he made happened earlier on in the army before his private contracting days. It numbed him too it and set the precedent for his relationships with anyone and is why he's so guarded.

After then, he's not really had many friends. Not that he had many to begin with but he doesn't go out of his way to get close to others. Acquaintances and work buddies? Yes. But friends are a rarity as he's really rather unapproachable. He's there to do his job, he's there to take people down and get paid, he's wary of getting close to ANYONE knowing they can be taken at any moment. He'll work with them, he'll know them, he'll be proud of them - but making friends and forming personal relationships like that in a private military contracting company is a bad idea, when they can easily swap over to the other side if they're offered more pay. He's seen it happen, he knows it's a real possibility.

That's why he picks any personal relationships closely and takes eons to warm up. His social anxiety, as well managed as it is, doesn't make it any easier. He knows what can happen, so he prepares as best as he can. Which INCLUDES being protective and prepared, and planning accordingly. If he's letting anyone into his life, he's already got a game plan for what he'll do.

And no, he DOES visit his mother, as I've stated! As much as his work allows and as much as possible, he does visit. He just doesn't live with or near her. He can easily visit throughout the year when his schedule allows and its sporadic, with no rhyme or reason. He doesn't take repeating cars, he doesn't do anything in a pattern that can be tracked. He's also made sure she's secure in her home too so it's unlikely things will happen, but he won't flat out not communicate with her and not see her at all. He's just smart and careful about it! He can't bare to never see her again.

I'm sorry but my König just doesn't fall under how most people portray him or see him. He's just a guy with his own personal issues. And like the proper guy that he is, he manages them and knows its his responsibility to do such. He's extensively gone to therapy, he's worked on himself, he knows where he stands.

Sure, he's still prone to jealousy and a touch of paranoia, but that doesn't mean he lacks the skills to work through them. He communicates like an adult with whatever he's feeling. Expressing it can be hard but he DOES get it out there and he also heavily respects reader's own autonomy. They're an adult, so is he. He'll protect them and do what he can, he'll care about them, but he will never seek to control them or treat them like something for only HIM to have. He's not and will never be a "they're MINE and NO ONE touches what's mine" - that's just not him to me. I don't write him as a big, broody dommy guy who is growling every sentence or can't handle others talking to someone he likes.

To me, he's just a dude. An introverted guy who likes to sew ridiculous pillows and tend to his garden who is happy in the home he made for himself. He's comfortable with who he is and where he stands. He can communicate properly, knows how to respect boundaries, and likes seeing others who matter to him happy in their lives as they establish a supportive network. Just because he isn't always with them or going with them doesn't mean they can't take care of themselves or he HAS to be there. He's not some ultra possessive dude because he has healthy understandings of boundaries and knows the world doesn't revolve around him and his wants (also he wouldn't WANT them to depend on him and him alone when its very possible he too will die on the field one day). He's not always going to look over your shoulder or instantly treat any other person as a threat.

He's seasoned with the things he's seen and is wary enough to be protective and to do what he knows to prevent what he's seen happen. He's cautious, he's considerate, he's caring - and he's not a cunt about it. Really, he's just perceptive and accepts what can happen so he tries to set up anyone in his life for success to avoid what he's seen and to keep them from harm. He can't always be there, he knows he can't, so ensuring that those around him who he DOES care about have a proper, healthy network of friends around for support and have a game plan for if shit hits the fan (as well as a system to enact it) is his way of showing he cares and can always be with them and help, even if he's long gone or buried six feet under.

[shinjisdone]

When you have an Secret Admirer - and it's not them (1; Heartslabyul)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that 'secret admirer' - everyone wants to help you out...but have their own reason for it...

"To my Dearest Ramshakle Prefect..."

form of headcanons + scenario-ish

[note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone you meet following you. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation. mostly nervousness, slight jealousy & stubbornness]

Part 2: Savanaclaw

Part 3: Octavinelle

Part 4: Scarabia

Part 5: Pomefiore

Part 6: Ignihyde

Part 7: Diasomnia

The school day goes by as the sun slowly sets. An orange hue adorns the roof of the Ramshakle dorm, even letting its somewhat shabby exterior appear charming. Laughter fills the cool air as both Ace and Deuce insisted on accompanying you to your dorm. Surely you aren't an mere outsider anymore after all these...overblot incidents but they were so stubborn sweet that you barely argued with them.

It was Grim's high-pitched snicker that snapped you back into reality.

"Oi, henchman, there's a letter for ya - and it's in all pink~!"

Ace Trappola

The first to immediately tease you that you've got a "Secret admirer~! Ooooh!"

As you appraoch the door you can see the pink letter carefully slid between the handle and wall. Your name was elegantly written on it.

It was only after you opened it and he peeked to see the first few sentences - 'To my Dearest Ramshakle Prefect' did he suddenly clam up and and his heart fell down to his stomach.

No way. No, no, no, no way! For real?!

Nah. Nah, nah, nah. This happens in these cliché movies and manga where someone really doesn't have the guts to approach their crush in person. People really do things like that?!

The moment both you, Deuce and Grim side-eye him for his sudden silence, he instantly perks up with a breahtless cackle to save face.

"Oh my Sevens, (Name)! You out of all people got a...a secret admirer?!" He would reach for the letter with a sweaty hand only for you to tuck it away. 'No way, Ace' you say, 'It - It couldn't be. This letter is for me anyway, so shut it! You can't peek!'

Oh oh.

His heart dropped even further. Is..your face getting red? Oh, no. He doesn't like that.

Still, he saves face by bringing his sweaty hand up to cover his face as his eyes dart around. "Fine, fine," He lies, "Just read it, dummy. Do tell us what it is about...! And from whom...!

He awkwardly winks.

Bidding goodybe by lightly punching your arm, he went to his own dorm with Deuce. The latter asked about his sudden shift in character.

"Nothing's wrong. I just find it hilarious if the Prefect did end up having a secret admirer! I mean, can you believe it?! What are we, a bunch of middle schoolers?

He sweats through the entire walk home and barely greets his schoolmates. He ended up not sleeping well that night.

Shoot. He really doesn't like that.

Deuce Spade

Deuce jumps when he heard Ace teasing you. His first instinct was to shut him up but the words itself were startling.

Oh my gosh...a secret admirer? Those things were real?!

He never had one admittedly...well, no surprises there considering his past.

"Dude, can you not make fun of (Name) for one entire day?!" He looks back at you for approval but blinks and - involuntarily - grimaces at the sight of you blushing while denying it. Ace couldn't be right, could he?

The mention of a love letter already flustered him, even if he wasn't the recipient but the fact that it was for you and that you were...flushed an obvious shade of red that even he could notice, left an sour aftertaste. He could feel his stomach twisting.

He hesitates before lightly shoving Ace and his grabby sweaty hands away from you, "Don't listen to him. It's your letter...just read it whenever."

Even saying something like that makes him want to barf.

You nod before waving goodbye - still with your face red. He really disliked the sight even knowing that you thanked him for sticking up for you against Ace's shenanigans. Why isn't he happy as usual when you thank him?

He looks back to Ace. "What's, what's wrong with you? You're suddenly so super weird." The latter just laughed it off, still sounding nervous. There was a part of Deuce that was glad his friend was so focused on his own nervousness, that he couldn't notice Deuce's mixed feelings of this.

This...wouldn't matter tomorrow, right...? He'd wake up and pick you up at Ramshakle as usual, right?

Deuce couldn't sleep. He went outside for some fresh air as he often felt sick throughout the night.

Cater Diamond

A new day is here yet no one seemed to be able to forget yesterday's incident - and CayCay noticed!

He went on an on, trying to pry the problem out of his dear, cute juniors but they didn't seem to budge. Ace would just brush him off, first starting with a 'All is swell and well as long Dormleader Riddle doesn't know...!' but now his excuses were limited to 'What, you tryin' to be the most caring and annoying senior of the month here?' His tone was as exasperated as before, however.

Deuce on the other hand seemed to be open to share but something would always hold him back last second. He'd sweat and blush and pout before shaking his head, offering a wobbly smile.

Cater continued to openly bother help the two until you arrived at Heartslabyul. What a surprise! His favorite, adorable junior coming to visit him?!

You approached him and he couldn't be happier! Oh, what's that, you wanna talk to him in private? Sure, he says, as both Deuce and Ace share a look.

Even so, Cater couldn't help but notice your flushed face as well as something being hidden on your person. Was that a pink piece of paper?

"Um, Cater-senpai...do you happen to have...pastries here for me?" You ask, nervously, trying hard to avoid his gaze. The guy appeared to be confused before you discreetly showed him the letter.

Oh. Oh...maybe, things are starting to make sense now.

He was able to see a few sentences the moment you showed him the contents. You admitted that you felt like you could talk about this...case with him. At least a little bit.

'I feel as though a letter alone isn't enough. I want to do something special for you...something as sweet as you, I made for, perhaps it could lighten your mood and your opinion of me.'

Chatty Cater was left speechless.

His gaze slowly wandered to the kitchen, then back to you. "Pastries...?" He muttered, "For - For you?" He looked back to the kitchen. A sweet aroma did come out of it.

Suddenly, he went up to your face, visibly distressed. "(Name)-chan, do you know from who this letter is?"

You take a step back, startled. "No...it's not signed - I mean, it is, it's just...as 'Your Secret Admirer'." You make a face as he leans coser - before suddenly shifting back to his original postion.

No. No way.

"Uh, Trey! Trey!" Cater calls out as he grabbed your shoulders and marched into the kitchen with you. His grip was tight even as you complained at the sudden take off.

"Trey, we've, uh, got a...problem."

Trey Clover

Trey almost dropped the bag flour when the door busted open with Cater pushing you through it. He readjusted his glasses before eyeing you two up and down.

"Trey-!" "What's the hurry? I'm baking one of Riddle's tarts right now." Before he could say anything more, both of you (or rather, Cater almost carried you) scrambled to the cupboards in the corner, hastily opening them (Cater was).

In return, the vice housewarden put his utensils back with a sigh. "What is it-" "(Name)-chan's got a love letter!"

You jumped as you shushed your senior, giving him a slap on the shoulder. Trey almost let go of the handkerchief in his hands.

His yellow eyes narrowed as they rapidly blinked, "L-love...love lett-" Only for him to be shushed by you, too.

Murmuring complaints under your breath you briefly showed the letter and its contents while Cater hastily explained the possible plan of this secret admirer. He still continued to open them left and right while Trey ducked down, his nose almost touching the pink piece of paper. He was able to peek a few lines before it was snatched away from his gaze.

'I don't want you to believe that this is some kind of prank. You'd probably expect it since you're magicless - but maybe you'd consider giving me the benefit of the doubt...'

'...ever since I saw you, I could kinda tell that you were a good person...and so very sweet to everyone, giving them a chance...'

'I admire you being able to be a good student at this college, even sharing classes with a cat while you can do no magic. I know it sounds crazy but this school is haaaard and I myself always have difficulties even being here...'

Trey could feel his heart beating against his rib cage as the words echo in his head, as he watches you snatch the letter back against your chest with pressed lips and flushed cheeks - and everything else seems to ring in his ears as he pulls a face the moment he heard Cater yell and everyone else burst into the kitchen.

"Oh my god, it's true! There are a bunch of pastries here with white roses!"

Riddle Rosehearts

The marching of his heels could be heard throughout the staircase and many began to panic. Riddle begrudgingly left his studies to see the commotion he so clearly and loudly heard from his room. With ease he pushed back the kitched door and found himself yelling with his usual strict tone again. "What in the name of the Queen is going on here?!"

The redhead could only raise a brow as almost all dormmates shakily pointed at you. Your flushed visage went pale in a second you noticed him walking up to you.

"Riddle-senpai...!" You waved your hands even as Riddle's gait became far more poised and his expression calmer once he saw you. With an almost neutral face he greeted you (and expected just a little common slip up from you and to...just pat you on the shoulder as a warning.) and leaned to the cupboard in the corner that Cater was facing, scratching his neck. In a flash his composure was ruined and he fell into his old habit - his face fuming red in anger.

"What is this?! A basket full of pastires decorated with white roses from our garden?! This is a crime against all rules of the Queen!"

He snapped his head back to the many students who were already trembling and attempting to run through the door, jump out the windows or cower behind the counter.

"Who thought of this prank?! It's off with your head!!!"

Screams ensued so loud and far that Trey jumped in-between. Deuce followed with an apologetic bow while Cater and Ace motioned for the rest to flee. The vice housewarden quickly interjected with Riddle's plan, whispering into his ear. The moment you noted what was exchanged, you came between them, your face as flushed as theirs.

Riddle darted his wide-eyed gaze to yours, his face as red as a cherry - and so was yours, he feared. Inhaling deeply, he cleared his throat before approaching you and holding out his hand. It seems he has forgotten about the commotion and was deaf to the weepings (of having survived another tantrum of the dormleader) outside.

"...(Name), may I take a look at this...letter?" His voice involuntarily cracked and he cleared his throat again. You answered by shoving it behind your back. "(Name), this is a violation against the Queen's rules so this concerns Heartslabyul. I..have to know."

He had to know who the criminal was...for, for justice. Nothing more and...nothing less.

You shake your head, facing the basket. "Just let me see this...gift," Your voice grew small at the last word, almost as if you had to admit it to yourself what this truly was. "Maybe it's not connected...maybe it's just a prank". Gingerly leaning in, you couldn't help but be amazed at the sight. The aroma was mesmerizing and so was the icing and entire form of the cookies, muffins and small cakes. White roses were indeed on and circling around the basket, droplets of dew adorning the soft petals. It seemed everything was done with so much care behind them...including stealing fresh roses the night before, it seems. On top of the basket, you found a thick but small note: 'You found them! I hope you enjoy the treats. I wish to give you these white roses too - when I first heard of the rumors from Heartslabyul, everyone deemed you some magicless troublemaker out for attention but I never really believed that...so white roses, because after all you've done for the dorms, I know you are innocent and pure...and red roses are kinda stereotypical, don'tchu think? And don't worry because of the dormleader...this was first just an idea that grew into a plan. I'll be sure to give you much more to make you believe me and my affection for you. So, look forward to it, okay?

Your Secret Admirer

This was it. You were officialy going to faint.

You went back home, trying to discreetly carry the big basket without bringing too much attention to it...even though today's incident will surely be talked about among the Heartslabylul students, carried on in the cafetria and then...you groaned as you went through the door and pushed the thought aside. You..really wanted to try one muffin before Grim could even find your gift from...your own secret admirer.

Oh my god, this was so cringey. And overwhelming. And sweet. And was this even real? It..still could be a prank though...cruel people can find a way to bring one's hopes up only to smash them into pieces. Yet...you didn't really wanted to think about that now.

Ace pouted back in his shared room with Deuce after you brushed him aside. He persisted that, yeah this has to be a prank! Let him taste-test this for you, in case there is some kind of spell put on it - weirdly enough Riddle encouraged him so. That is a possibilty, is it not?

And yet as he did, he begrudgingly had to be honest. These were insanely good, perhaps even better than Trey's, though he kept his mouth shut on that one. Riddle tested it too and approved with a frown, Deuce was hesitant until Ace shared his cookie with him and Trey didn't even wanna know. He just shrugged and shook his head with a jaded smile as he believed the four of them. All five of them couldn't get the small smile on your face out of their heads.

"...Okay, so," Deuce started, looking on the floor. "This is the real deal then. An actual love letter and s-secret admirer for the prefect..."

"Yeah, it's really damn weird." Deuce snapped his glare up to his friend, pulling a face. "Shouldn't we be happy for (Name)? It could be something good. And, I mean, we are students, that happens in schools..." Ace swiftly turned around, eyeing the bluehead suspiciously. "You have no idea what you're talking about, dude. This is Night Raven College, weird stuff happens all the time here! I'm telling you someone's pullin' a serious bigass prank on (Name). And I'm not gonna stand around and wait for that to happen!"

Deuce looks up, shooting up from his bed. "Oh no, Ace, you don't mean-" "I am!" Through his cockiness, his face still grew red.

Riddle sighed as he cleaned the kitchen together with Cater and Trey. The latter two would often share a look before the dormleader began to raise his voice. "Starting tomorrow we will find this criminal for breaking one of the Queen's rules and put them to justice."

"Uh, you sure? I, I mean it was just a gift..." Cater trailed off, looking away. Trey loudly sighed, "Besides, this is none of my business - or ours. It's (Name)'s..."

One utensil clattered on the table before Riddle briskly turned to his friend. He offered a determined glare even as his palms started to sweat. "Trey," He began confidently, "Roses were stolen from the garden. This concerns me- all of us," He quickly corrected, "It doesn't matter if it's from (Name)'s 'secret admirer', if anything that person is disregarding rules, a criminal. (Name) deserves better than that."

Trey could almost hear the spite in Riddle's tone but decided to stay quiet. He ran his hand through his hair and adjusted his glasses. "Whatever you say, dormleader. Let's just hope this won't be more troule than it seems."

Bonus!

[yeah, ok, I kinda went overboard but also feel like its not enough - so here is everyone's thoughts after the scenario!]

Ace

Oh. My. God.

So, that was real. The treats were real. And they tasted good, too! Damnit!

Ace is still adamant that this is some sort of prank. It has to be! He was fooled once or twice by Azul and Co., that doesn't mean there aren't any dumbasses trying to trick you! You're an easy target! Magicless, living in some shabby dorm with a cat and ghosts! You got only him and Deuce! and maybe Jack, Epel and Sebek. And some 'Tsunotarou' guy? Pff, whatever.

He will make sure nothing is gonna happen to you! As your best friend, he's gotta make sure...! And, well, protect you!

It's the only thought process that keeps him from being a nervous mess. If it isn't that possibility, then that means someone really does have a crush on you and will, ya know, try to - ew - 'woo' you, or somethin'.

Ace is determined to find the 'prankster' and prove you he was right! In doing so, he would also prove it to himself and therefore be calmed. There's no way someone could be doing this...before him, right?

It's a mix of nervousness and denial. It only worsens when he slowly sees you happily accepting this 'courtship'.

Deuce

Holy crap...that was the most confusing and romantic thing he has ever witnessed.

The most mixed on all of this. An secret admirer doesn't sound like a bad thing and he wants to give this person the benefit of the doubt - maybe they mean well and just like you! And you seem to be accepting of that, alas a bit subtly and hesitantly.

Though he can't help this twisted feeling inside his stomach and the beating of his heart. He blushes as bright as you whenever the topic is mentioned as if he was the receiver of that person's affections! It is just...he cannot explain it to himself that this isn't wrong. He cannot find a reason why this could be wrong (aside from Ace's constant theories on what this plan actually could be) but it just doesn't sit right with him.

He should be happy for you! Yet, he isn't. He can't.

Ace does mention the possibility of someone wanting to hurt you and that does get Deuce riled up. If that is the case, he'll surely show them the ol' two, leave their face a bit black and blue...but he cannot believe it just yet. You seem so flattered by everything...he can't take that joy away from you by being like Ace.

Deuce grows frustrated and decides to not play by the redhead's rules - that letter was for you, dammit! He's just gonna go up to you himself and ask you how you feel about this ordeal!

A part of him hopes it is a bad guy...so he can save you from the unnecessary tears.

Cater

This was???? Shoot, he didn't take a pic! Not that he could, he was more worried of what Riddle might have done;;

So. Now this is real. It took him three years being in NRC but he is finally being witness of an classic 'secret admirer' story...or shenanigan because nothing can be normal here.

Exciting in normal cases! He'd love to have an extra blog to follow this story and 'crack the case' of that secret admirer! Should be easy enough since you are the lucky one.

But unlike his juniors, Cater is honest with himself.

He really doesn't want you to have an secret admirer.

Well, because, of course not! He likes you!

It's a bit of a shame...such a scoop but it has to be his favorite juniour. You attract more attention and trouble than he thought.

Cater is not exactly jelaous or panicked...perhaps in due time. Until then, he decides to step away and just keep a very close eye on you. Part of him hopes this secret admirer dude is true to their word and there will be more surprises! How exciting!

On the other hand...just don't have a crush on his crush, k?

Trey

BIG. SIGH.

Why can something not be normal here? A bask full of treats (that are apparently better than his?) almost gave him a heart attack.

On Riddle's command, Trey has to be a part of this now, doing his utmost to find a 'rule breaker' and 'criminal'.

Part of him kinda respects this admirer for having the guts that no one else really has...sure, it's more 'grandious' and public than he'd prefer, but well, good for them.

Everything is more like an annoyance and chore to him than anything. Riddle, the dorm, Cater and now creeping through he hallways of the college to find some person while the news have most likely spread around like a wild fire (and if they haven't, they will be thanks to Azul and his eels).

He really wished none of this happened.

Mostly because someone is going out of their way to offer you a giant, grandious, over the top confession that will haunt him for the rest of the day weeks.

And out of all things...why did they charm you with pastries? That's like nasty pang to the side.

Just get this over with. Have someone call it a hoax. Go back to the dorm, invite you to the kitchen and flatter you with real sweets this time, all made by Trey and no one else.

BIG. SIGH.

Why can something not be normal here? A bask full of treats (that are apparently better than his?) almost gave him a heart attack.

On Riddle's command, Trey has to be a part of this now, doing his utmost to find a 'rule breaker' and 'criminal'.

Part of him kinda respects this admirer for having the guts that no one else really has...sure, it's more 'grandious' and public than he'd prefer, but well, good for them.

Everything is more like an annoyance and chore to him than anything. Riddle, the dorm, Cater and now creeping through he hallways of the college to find some person while the news have most likely spread around like a wild fire (and if they haven't, they will be thanks to Azul and his eels).

He really wished none of this happened.

Mostly because someone is going out of their way to offer you a giant, grandious, over the top confession that will haunt him for the rest of the day weeks.

And out of all things...why did they charm you with pastries? That's like nasty pang to the side.

Just get this over with. Have someone call it a hoax. Go back to the dorm, invite you to the kitchen and flatter you with real sweets this time, all made by Trey and no one else.

Riddle

Ridicilous...what kind of game is this? He's never heard of something this preposterous before!

Well, he literally never did...he thought things such as secret admirers were just a fantasy...in non-academic, fictional books he wasn't allowed to read...

Nevertheless, someone broke into the Heartslabyul kitchen, used it without permission and on top of that, stole roses from the garden. White ones, too!

The first thing in his mind is to make this right. Find that person, punish them fine, let them know of their wrongdoings. This cannot go! What if others believe Heartslabyul to be just some...kind of freebie storage of flowers and pastries they can snatch whenever?

As a dorm leader, Riddle must fix this.

The second thing in his mind is that all of this is done for you.

It feels oddly sweet to Riddle...those stories of tender love were true...

Still, he can't find himself fond of these proclaims of love.

Riddle isn't as honest to himself as Cater nor an irrational denier like Ace but...he knows he doesn't like any of this and knows it's connected to you...

In the past he would have brushed it aside and in the worst case scenario, will find anyone else in the wrong and be faulty - mainly you and that admirer for stirring this stress inside of him.

But these pangs in his heart are all his own concerns to deal with, that he knows.

Riddle doesn't like to think of you accepting this confession hence why he avoids you and distracts himself by finding this lovey-dovey student. He's only going to correct them on how to properly do this without anything resulting in theft.

And yet even so...if they listen and do as he says, do things the right way...will that really be okay to him?

If they ever confess and you accept...even though it was done correctly, without anyone getting hurt or harmed...will Riddle be okay?

The redhead cannot take this experience away from you, it is up to you to know how to deal with this. But seeing how this scheme of love and affections plays out in the upcoming weeks, there's something in Riddle that makes him wonder if he should have been that secret admirer to you months ago...and none of this would be happening now.

[yeah, watch me write so much of Ace, my favorite Deuce, and my perfect Riddle that I aDorE...and then teenee tiny cookue bits for cater and trey :,) ]

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 9

RotTMNT x Reader

I am constantly blown away by this chapter art by @yamin-yups

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

This chapter contains reference to body dysmorphia. Remember that what you feel is completely valid, but we can sometimes see ourselves differently than we really are. Please keep yourselves safe.

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

“Maybe we take a break from going out into the packed public for once?” Mikey was upside-down, but compensated by holding his phone the opposite way. 

It put him right side up in the video chat, but the view was extra blurry. “Is that… okay?”

“I’m the one suggesting it!” Mikey stuck out his tongue, but his reflection seemed to confuse him on which way the appendage should go. “It’s been awhile. I haven’t been able to see you.”

“Yeah… well…” Though for you it would have been predictable, Mikey hadn’t felt the firsthand effects of your setbacks yet. 

Panic attacks always caused you to withdraw into yourself. 

You weren’t supposed to.

There were times when it was easy to keep going.

Others, such as now, left you homebound for as long as society allowed.

The push to normalcy now included your thoughtful friend.

“Do you know after my tremors went away, I spent months avoiding art because I was afraid of how it would look?” Mikey told you casually. 

You weren’t sure what he was talking about.

You tried to recall something about tremors, but came up short.

You wanted to ask more, but there was a more startling aspect than the content itself.

You couldn’t believe there was ever a period where Mikey avoided art as he had been nothing, but a loud proponent of all its merit.

“Why?”

“Because I knew my level and then… I didn’t. I knew I’d have to get back there. It was like riding a skateboard, but needing to take that time? For a second time. Chancing the bad result? It was like my healing was one thing and then by doing that it would show me just how much further I still needed to go. Like that dude with the cat and the box. I didn’t want to open it and find out. I couldn’t do it.”

“Isn’t the saying… something… about riding a bike?”

“We were skateboard tots!” Mikey rolled over and with it so did his camera, inverting the image.

You nodded lightly.

“I switched up crafts. Started new ones that weren’t so finger focused. Pour paints and candle work!” He made grabby hands at the lens as he fixed his phone angle.

“Something low key…” You hummed where you were sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, something quiet, calm, and… oh! Oh yeah!” There was another flip, but this one was out of excitement.

“D-don’t… bust through a wall…!”

Mikey appeared within a flurry of static. “Did you just make a Kool-Aid Man joke?”

“I make jokes!”

The wattage of his smile turned up to a blinding degree. “Well then I’ve got just the wall to bust through!”

-

“No.” Donnie glowered over his shoulder.

“Please!” Mikey bounced his plea with his head straight up to the ceiling of the garage you were currently in.

An oddity in the subway, but something you imagined had to exist based on logic, your eyes were openly roving around the tidy depot.

“Absolutely not.” Lifting out from under a hood and minding his head, Donnie craned an elbow to the engine block he was working on. “You know you’ve been banned.”

“One time!” Mikey groaned.

“No!” Donnie felt the need to rip off his leather work gloves to throw an unencumbered finger in Mikey’s face. “You were banned once after crashing eleven separate times!!”

“Eleven?!” You squeaked.

Mikey flipped back and forth between the two of you, obviously caught in who to address first. “My driving is fine!” He chose you and then flipped to Donnie. “I’ve changed!”

From the duffel that was slung around your body, you had already been clinging to the strap as it gave you something comforting to hold on to. With the new knowledge that you had almost been driven somewhere rural by someone with that kind of driving record, you now scooped up the entire sack to soothe yourself. 

“Forget that.” Donnie flicked his gaze to you. “You’d need a full crash suit to survive him.” He then folded his gloves into a pair and went to check his tool box.

You wilted further.

“We’re already packed!” Mikey rounded a new argument. “This is going to be our big, no-stress, relaxing getaway and you’re making it exactly not that!” 

“That’s unfortunate. The bus station isn’t far.” Donnie knelt down to get a wrench.

“And how’s that going to work!? We get dropped at some station and walk to the cabin!? You know it’s in the middle of nowhere!” Mikey stepped up to throw menace over his brother.

Donnie smelled it a mile away and lifted his head, pouring twice the malice. “Oh, you want to play?”

Mikey gulped and nodded his head once. “Let us borrow a car, the tank, a shell cycle, whatever! You’re being unfair!”

“Your planning is poor.” Donnie was slow to get on one knee. “You’re ill equipped.” To the other, he got a foot under him. “You’ve informed no one.” Rising to his towering height above his brother, he loomed. “You walk into my garage, where I am in the midst of my own personal and much needed zen in the form of refurbishing my newest baby and expect me to drop the keys of another into your hands knowing full well that you have destroyed more vehicles on more occasions than I can count on our joined mutant fingers and toes because you just so happened to suddenly decided that you needed to take a weekend trip with your friend of which whom you have a similar slapdash scheme going on with to go to our family’s cabin up north on a whim!?!”

Having watched Donnie not take a single breath, you backed up nearly the same distance that Mikey’s head had shrunk down into his shell.

“Y-yes?” Mikey peeped.

“No.” Donnie said the word firm and quiet, but punctuated it with a tap to Mikey’s plastron which caused the stiff turtle to fall over. “Now leave me to my work.”

Only a shell laying there, you leaned forward to look over Mikey without compromising your spot.

Donnie swung his wrench and moved over to a creeper with the intention to disappear under what looked like a turtle-themed moon buggy.

“You-” Your voice echoed in the garage and you tensed up.

Mikey’s head emerged from his shell to peek at you.

Donnie halted his motion, but didn’t turn.

“You… um… could… come with us?”

You watched Donnie’s lips wobble with disdain.

“N-Not a-as a d-driver! Y-you said…”

In a loud pop, all of Mikey’s limbs emerged. “That’s a great idea!!!”

In a smooth rotation, Donnie both turned and lifted his wrench with a threat.

Mikey crab walked several paces away.

“I’m disappointed.” Donnie sent a glare in your direction. “If your thought is even-” He caught a glimpse of his wrench. “-5/16ths as moronic as his then you are banned from the garage itself. Know that, would you still like to continue speaking?”

Gaze plummeting, your heart tried to escape and you screwed the whole of you shut to keep it inside.

Your entire body shook with the force of your nerves and you had to wait until your BPMs dropped to a manageable limit before you could manage speech. “You… said… m-much needed… so maybe… the trip would… well… be calming… for you too?”

There was a clink of metal hitting the ground.

Banned.

You were banned from the garage.

That was fine.

In theory, it wasn’t.

In theory, you were mortified.

Despite your best efforts, you had never been banned from anything.

Now you were.

A glaring dark spot on your permanent record.

Was Mikey a bad influence?

“You do say driving gets your mind off things…” Mikey said with a sudden supportive starkness.

You kept your gaze firmly rooted to the floor in shame.

“Also hold up!” In a slap of feet against concrete, Mikey righted himself. “You take a few of those things back, Don! I may have pushed the idea through, but it was not poorly planned or ill equipment or whatever you said! Y/N worked crazy hard on putting together everything in the short time frame I laid out!!”

You twitched.

“There’s maps, multiple trails marked, a calculated amount of water, with extra rations, flares… Like do you think this other bag is mine? Heck no! I’m not bringing anything! Both these bags are Y/N’s! They’re both stuffed with… stuff! Like-like!” You felt Mikey come over to you. “How you contacted the ranger’s station to tell them we’d be in the area? I’ve never even thought of that! We’ve never done that have we, Dee?”

Donnie continued his bout of silence that you didn’t dare look upon.

“What else…?” Mikey slapped his forehead. “I mean, come on! I can’t even remember it all!”

“I… got that satellite phone… you were pretty excited… about it.” You mumbled to the ground.

“With the backup batteries, Donald!” Mikey hummed a self-important sound. “The backup batteries!!”

The garage made it very clear that Donnie was walking over to you.

You bounced ever so slightly to garner the courage to meet his eye.

“Who did itinerary?” Donnie asked. 

“Me.” Mikey remarked casually.

“I assume food too?” Donnie’s voice was heavy with judgment. 

“Nope.” You could see a swoop as Mikey folded smug arms.

“That’s not quite…” You cleared your throat. “Mikey… shared his… favorite dishes that you… all make…when you… go.”

Donnie dipped into your eye line and you startled.

He’d bent at his waist and come down at a perfect angle.

You stared with warped lips.

“How long?” He narrowed his gaze.

“T-the trip?” Your gaze wobbled.

Mikey opened his mouth and Donnie threw out an arm that, by the sound, must have slapped the younger in the face.

“Yes.” Donnie kept his hand in place.

“Tonight… tomorrow… back Sunday?”

“Is that a question?” Donnie’s head tilted.

Mikey grunted, annoyed.

“No…” You got out, quiet.

“You agreed knowing full well you’d be alone with him?”

Slapped with a similar heat from the first time you’d realized that fact, you gave a tight nod.

‘We have separate rooms!’ Mikey mumbled through closed lips with surprising clarity.

“And that’s okay?” Donnie disappeared.

You chased him up to find he’d released Mikey and was waiting on him for an answer.

“It’s a no brainer.” Mikey nearly rolled his eyes. 

Donnie’s brow lowered, unsatisfied.

“Yes, it’s okay because it isn’t a thing.” Mikey huffed around his clarification.

“I suppose… I’ve been persuaded.” Donnie looked down thoughtfully and you watched him trace back to where he’d dropped his wrench.

Mikey jumped into the air with a sudden bout of energy and caught your hands to spin you.

“Y-y-yay!” You stutter, stalling on the rotation.

“Cabin, here we come, baby!” Mikey cheered. 

“I need my things!” Donnie barked. “And you.”

You jolted. “Y-yes?”

“You will send me triplicate copies of your plans.”

“S-sure…” You spastically patted yourself down for your phone.

“I refuse to engage with either of your antics.” Donnie’s own appeared in his hand. “I am no third wheel. I am coming because I will apparently have to deal with your whining otherwise and because I am not in the mood for the lecture from Nardo and Raphael when they return.”

“Have they texted yet?” Mikey peered over Donnie’s shoulder.

“No. Security detail means one must pay-” Donnie suddenly dropped and ducked through Mikey’s legs in one fluid movement. “-attention. This is why you weren’t requested.”

“And why didn’t they request you, hm?” Mikey pushed his lips into one corner of his mouth.

“Because…!” Donnie trailed off with widened eyes. “My talents lie elsewhere! Enough interruptions. I will drive and then you will leave me be! I am to have my zen! Is that understood?”

“Yeah, yeah, crystal.” Mikey finally did roll his eyes.

Donnie took a few steps away as you found your phone and held it unsure of how to send him the details.

“He’s totally going because he heard ‘yakiniku’ when you mentioned we were making my favorite foods.” Mikey walked over to you with a smirk.

You watched Donnie take an irritated pause before continuing on to get his things.  

-

The ride in the tank had passed with booming music and a tour from Mikey that you only visually participated in because you were terrified to move about the cabin. The younger seemed not to notice as he explained parts with stories more than function. Donnie alternatively, had shades on that further marred his calculated expression and he said nothing as the studious driver.

Leaving the city and entering scenic woodlands, you were soon left to admire the views until you eventually deviated off the road toward the cabin. Tracking it with the little local map you had found, you busied yourself in the comfortable way that most people disliked on road trips: silence in a cozy bubble all your making.

There didn’t have to be talk, that’s what road trip mixes were for.

You only made exceptions for car games. 

You liked that they had simple rules and there were little stakes to be had. 

You only wished cars were safer modes of transport.

There was also something to be said about environmental impact and the culture of automobiles in America, but other than that, you found them nice.

Pulling up to what you imagined was a quiescent place, Mikey could not be restrained a second longer.

Out of the tank in a flurry, you watched through the windshield as his form screamed straight up the cabin’s steps. “He doesn’t do great on car rides, huh?”

“Sitting still for too long? Michael?” Donnie rose from the captain’s chair.

You gave a small smile and gathered up the few things you’d taken inside with you. Your actual bags were stored in an outer compartment and Donnie waited for you as a safety net as you made the harrowing steps down the tank ladder and to the ground. Landing with little fault, you joined him in getting the luggage until Mikey tore back over to grab some of the load. He talked loudly of dust that had accumulated and Donnie griped at him that it was obvious they’d need to clean.

You fondly watched the two bicker and set-up became the next directive. Throwing back plastic sheets that coated furniture, Donnie had a multitude of inventions to clear the space quickly. You had to run to the windows to release the dust tornadoes formed. Making it out mostly unscathed, you then helped Mikey hang bug nets. With the late Spring weather warming the air, soon everything was prepped and Mikey did a little closing dance number, capping off the preparatory part of the trip.

“Swimming hole time!” Mikey cheered and then turned knowingly on Donnie. “Then BBQ and prompt lights out so I can make a lumberjack breakfast first thing!”

“We’re grinding beans… we roasted…” You offered softly. “Uh… Coffee… beans… that is…”

“Oh yeah, I forgot we took that class.” Mikey chuckled. “You almost fell into that sack!”

You squashed a noise of distress at the memory.

Understanding the schedule, Donnie dismissed himself with a turned foot and headed to one of the cabin’s many rooms. You were left to look about the quintessential log cabin where the huge living space and connected kitchen then butted up against a row of doors. They spoke of many rooms that traced the back of the cabin and then up a staircase to a second floor. From what you could see, there were about eight rooms in all. The entire cabin then had a wraparound porch that extended into the wilderness. It was land that both belonged to nature and not, but Mikey had been cagey about revealing property lines. 

“Welp!” Mikey folded his hands on his hips. “Your boy needs to get wet before he explodes.”

You gawked at him.

“Seriously!” He was looking out over the cabin with a vacant stare that held a sort of unhinged quality. “First the car, then stuck inside? This is not an inside trip. if I am not unleashed in the next, oh I don’t know… 2 minutes, I’m going to lose it!”

“Uh…!”

“You got those trail maps?” He turned, both looking through you and not at.

“Y-yes!”

“I color coded the one to the watering hole. Orange, obviously.” Mikey approached with a waggling brow ridge. “I saw you in the car, keeping perfect pace. It was awesome.”

“Just to s-stay b-busy!”

“Uh huh! Your smile said otherwise! You’ll meet me there then! Same way!” He patted your shoulder once with a whack before bolting out the door.

You stared after him now knowing why he’d chosen to travel in his swimsuit.

Looking down at your road trip ensemble, you still felt sure of your decision to take the few hour drive comfortably.

There was a noise of a door opening and Donatello emerged, changed into a casual outfit punctuated by purple swim trunks.

You stared at him and felt a little like a caught fawn.

Donnie took you in before his gaze dulled with understanding. “He ditched you.”

“I’m… going to meet him.”

“He always does this.” Donnie responded dismissively. “You should have seen him in time out as a tot.”

“Oh?”

“One minute in time out for him was comparative to thirty for the rest of us.” Walking around a large kitchen bar, Donnie studied the rations.

You took a few steps toward him for the sake of it.

“He’s so impatient.” Donnie murmured, poking several waters aside to find a carton of juice boxes that Mikey had insisted on. He quickly tossed the set into the fridge. “He’s not even an aquatic turtle.”

You sort of wished you had done more research past looking up pictures of their species.

“You’re losing daylight.” He emerged from the fridge. “Or are you not swimming?”

“I-I am…!” You squeezed a fist to your chest. “Are… you coming too?”

Donnie blinked slowly at you. “No, why?”

“Oh…” You shouldn’t have assumed. He’d already told you otherwise. “Sorry… your bottoms… I thought…”

“Board shorts.” He punctuated the words with an odd accent.

You gave an unsure nod.

“I’m glad their sign was translated.” He glanced down at himself.

“Sorry…” You murmured when he made no further movement and quickly left to avoid any awkwardness.

You weren’t sure what you expected.

It’s not like you wanted to exclude Donnie.

You knew that pain too well.

You also didn’t want to make him feel unwelcomed.

You were painfully aware of that too.

He hadn’t wanted to be a third wheel and you had made it a silent mission to keep that from happening.

Something else you’d experienced in the past, you’d been the unwilling chaperone on more than one occasion just to satisfy parent’s minds. The good one, in their minds, you had always been ditched and the feeling wasn’t one you cared for. Shoving past the bygone era, you were seen now and you tried to relish that.

The sun’s attention was a fickle thing, but you were getting more use to losing Mikey’s. Something you thought should scare you, instead you felt your friendship with Mikey was stronger than ever. You no longer feared losing him in the same intangible way and you weren’t sure if you should crop that up to Mikey’s feelings about you. Instead it felt as though you’d reached a better status quo where Mikey’s running off felt more like the sun moving on its predetermined rotation. It would eventually round back to you and in that way you expected Mikey’s claustrophobia even if you hadn’t known about it.

You picked a room at random and rummaged through the duffel that you placed on your bed. There was a woodsy smell that teetered on musty in a way that spoke of it being well lived in even if its occupants only came every so often. You had your own little stand up mirror, nightstand, dresser, and a closet though you doubted you’d use anything past the first. Pulling out a single slick piece of black fabric, you double checked the door was closed before changing.

The perfect swimsuit was one you hadn’t imagined you’d find. Not one for flashy things, you only wanted a muted cover that also happened to cover you. Water did unimaginable things to fabrics and you hated the way it clinged. You wanted something you could disappear in, that brought no unnecessary attention, and could be forgotten on your end. Finding it in a matter of minutes into shopping as opposed to the years it took when you were younger, the item had even been on sale.

Stepping into it and pulling it up, you shimmied into the fabric and turned for that same show stopping image you’d seen in the changing room.

What stared back was an image of allure.

No.

That was wrong.

That’s not what it had looked like.

It had covered you.

It hadn’t accentuated anything.

It was simple.

You squirmed, changing angles in hopes that it would get better, but each only revealed more.

What had changed?

You’d purchased it this week.

Were you hallucinating?

Was there something in the wooden walls?

Had the tank crashed and this was you playing out some morbid purgatory?

You pinched yourself.

A sting bit your forearm and you threw your gaze back at the mirror for the unwilling shapes it concocted.

This wasn’t right.

You wanted to swim.

There was no way you could.

Miserably turning away from your image, you rooted through your bag for a cover up. Finding one in some oversized t-shirt you’d brought for comfort, you held it and hated that this wasn’t the way you imagined it would be employed. You figured it’d be a back-up pajama top and not something to hide your shame away in. Clinging to the fabric, you hastily pulled it over your head with an imaginary clock ticking away because Mikey was waiting.

You were ruining everything.

Stumbling out into the living room, you found yourself alone.

Momentarily thrown, but shaking off how Donnie wasn’t a priority right now and the guilt that came with that, you went for your pile of maps. Finding the trail one with the orange lines, you gathered some shoes and careened down the porch.

Buzzing insects mocked your sloppy descent as you rotated the map to be on your course. Following it more than your way, you took the necessary inlet and folded its winds to a drawn T. Bushes and trees concealed you, but the splashing of what was beyond reached your ears faster than you’d hoped. A journey not long to its destination, you slowed as you came to the final bend. You could hear Mikey blabbing presumably to himself as he hooted before resounding sloushes followed. In your mind he jumped off some kind of ledge, you took a deep breath before making the final steps leading to the watering hole.

Somewhere quaint if you had the perspective for such a thing, a tree towered comfortably overtop a sizable pool. One mucked up from algae as the little stream feeding into it didn’t stir the water near enough, you watched roiling green as Mikey emerged with a flip of his wet hair.

“Y/N!” Mikey shouted happiness. “You made it! Come on in! The water’s fine!!” He swam backwards as if giving you room.

The guilt was staggering.

No, Mikey.

I won’t be swimming today.

My body looks like shit and I can’t stand it.

I’ll watch you though.

Have all the fun.

You deserve it.

Signing off your name, you slunk forward only to clip a sight of mixed purples.

Donnie craned his neck back to view you from beneath a large sun hat he’d put on. Sitting on a few rocks that made up the closest edge to you, his lids lowered in a way that said he was reading you like a book.

Hating how he did that, you squeezed the bulky hem of your shirt and walked up. “Uh… M-Mikey…?”

“A-yup!” He stopped splashing to hear you better.

“The… um… car ride… sort of took… more out of me than… I thought? Would it be alright if-!”

“You don’t have to swim.”

You blinked wide and over to him.

“If you don’t want to, don’t!” Mikey continued on. “Let’s compare: are you upset I’m swimming when you don’t want to?”

“O-of c-course not!”

“Then why should I care in the reverse?” He fell back and floated, eyes closed, on his shell.

That was right in a way.

Sweet in another.

You wished you’d put together the same reaction.

Inching closer, it felt like pouring water into an overtaxed bucket.

Another guilty drop in your damnation.

You’d seen your friend in a bad light.

Shirking all the more, you toed off your shoes and let your feet lay flat on one of the worn rocks. It put you near Donnie who’d become the moon on a sunny day’s backdrop. He shined upon the same stone and illuminated its age. The rocks were older and wiser than you’d ever be. They never worried about getting wet. They only knew how to exist, something you wished came as easily to you. Sitting down because you needed more of you to drink from the stone’s wisdom, you kept a lowered head to the water’s edge. It sloshed in a beckoning way and you imagined it too would feel good in a different way. 

You really had wanted to swim.

Imaging your tears would do little to fill up the pool while also overflowing it, you heard a tepid sigh beside you.

Eyes wide and shooting up across the pond, you then turned to where you’d sat down next to Donnie.

Someone who you mistakenly forgot about during your pity party.

How was that for a third wheel?

“It’s always something with you.” He spoke softly.

“Sure is.” You gave an awkward laugh.

“That’s…” He made a little concerned noise. “… I didn’t mean it in a cruel way.”

“You didn’t have to. It is.” You threw your legs off the rock and threatened to drown your toes in the water. “It’s a cruel fate. I’m…” You remembered yourself. “Sorry. Nothing. What are you doing here?”

“My species is aquatic.”

You snuck a glance. “You’re pretty dry then.”

“You are too.”

You frowned deeply and watched Mikey pick up a sun drunk grin as he spread his limbs out to float on. “I don’t know why I feel like this. Everything was fine before…”

“With what?”

“This…” You threw a hand over yourself. “Stupid ugly swimsuit.”

You could feel Donnie’s gaze linger.

“Just trust me.” You folded your legs against yourself.

 “I’m not sure I do.”

You squinted at the glistening water before looking at him.

“I barely know you.” He responded simply, waiting there.

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?”

“In what?” Your ugly side was leaking far beyond the reach of what your shirt could cover. “I didn’t think you trusted me. You may have been wrong about me being bad, but that wouldn’t make you less suspicious. So it’s not that. What’s left? The swimsuit sucks. It’s not like you wanna drool over it. I don’t want anyone too. I wanted to swim.”

Hearing your wish aloud, you pressed hard on your chest with your legs.

You could flatten out your entire form if only you were malleable.

“The water is opaque. I can alert Mikey and we’ll turn away so you can get in.”

You felt too far gone for solutions.

You weren’t worth the trouble.

Burying your chin into your knees, you stewed.

“You know how many times the others have made fun of my board shorts?”

You told yourself you didn’t care.

If that was the case then Donnie didn’t either. “Hundreds, though it might be my attitude when wearing them. I like the excuse. To have my day off and not worry about pleasantries. To not have to tailor myself to others. I can tell them to shove it. It’s my day off and how I look isn’t anyone’s damn business.”

Sounded like an odd hill to die on.

“Everyone should have those days.” Donnie craned his arms behind him and leaned back to soak up the rays he was in.

The tree overhead was clipping your light.

Donnie was free. 

Mikey was free. 

Head lifting a little, you pondered your friend.

He’d needed to get out and he did.

Now he was a vision, glowing amongst the pool.

In contrast there was you, wadded up and tossed away without even giving yourself the chance.

Another terrible reminder that this was the point.

This was what you were trying to avoid.

This was what you were trying to learn from.

Mikey didn’t even have to do anything to be himself.

He just was.

Instead of his usual bustle of light, he shined by matter of existence.

That was why you chased him. 

You wanted that. 

Staring at him until sun spots mucked up your vision, you turned the mass to Donnie.

Beside you in the same pose, he was more calculated.

He had to put on his wares.

His was an unseen struggle you hadn’t considered.

No one gleamed quite like Mikey.

That didn’t mean they didn’t shine in their own right.

Donnie’s darkened scales only threw prisms in a different way.

The cool moon’s glow.

Letting your legs fall, this time your feet drew to the allure of the water.

Just out of reach, you stared hard, making sure the pair would keep their eyes closed.

The both of them were still as if asleep, but you waited past whatever insect was chirping before you slowly tugged your hem out from under you. Emerging without more than the sound of rustling fabric, you rolled your shirt up around your waist. The next move was one harder to conceal, you threw a desperate glance at your friend.

Water rocked the resting Mikey like a babe and you wanted to feel that too.

You wanted to be nestled by the sun’s glow.

You wanted to feel weightless and have those burdens removed.

You yanked the shirt over your head and dropped it to your side.

Donnie stirred at the sound, but didn’t open his eyes.

“It’s… It’s okay… I’m not… okay… but I think I… I don’t want to care…”

He cracked a lid and stared skyward.

“It looked so different in the store.”

“How so?” He asked a whispy cloud.

“It looked… I don’t know… covering? Like it didn’t… show any bits. Like it… hid them away.”

He blinked slow and comfortable. “I’m a designer, you know.”

“What?”

“Genius Built Apparel. Where fashion meets function.”

You stared on.

Of course he was. 

He also built a tank and a legion of dusting robots. 

If this were any other family you’d think he was pulling your leg. 

You’d seen more than enough to believe. 

Most of your stare came from the cocky name. 

Though even that made sense. 

Donnie was a carefully constructed sphere. 

Who were you to take away his gloating? 

He tilted his head just enough to glimpse your face. “I’m serious. I’ve dissuaded Mikey from many a faux pas.”

You shook your head.

“May I?”

“What?” You switched to eyeing him.

“I can take a clinical eye. Examine stitching. Find your err.”

You bounced one of your legs.

You did want to know where it had all gone wrong.

You could theoretically fix it then.

Wash this all away in the water you so desperately wanted to get in.

“You won’t make it weird?”

“I don’t drool on the metaphorical clock; you were right about that, but I understand your concern. I have accosted you before.”

“Different kind of weird. That was mean weird. You were a jerk weird.”

Donnie chuffed and it rolled down his plastron.

You watched it fall into his lap before forcing your gaze back to his face in a rush. “Promise… Promise I can pull your hat down if you… do anything.”

“I won’t so a simple enough agreement. Sure.”

“Go… ahead…” You folded your arms to your sides, obviously nervous as you listened to his clothes move.

In a twist, he was examining you and he gave a faint hum.

Not wanting to see exactly how he saw you and growing miserable, you stared into the water.

You could throw yourself in and be done with it.

“Here.” He spoke.

You moved to the sound on instinct and found him pointing to your hip.

His eye was indeed one you imagined a tired scientist gave the samples he was cursed to study.

You immediately relaxed. “What?”

“This ruching here is meant to cover cellulite when the fabric gets wet. When dry it acts a similar concealment, but the way the strips are sewn are for the first purpose.”

“Oh…” You tilted your head to look.

“Thing is, it’s also leading lines.” He didn’t get any closer, but he mimed tracing the seams of the fabric that curled around your hip and beneath where you were sitting. “It’s meant to direct the gaze to certain assets.”

 You blew out an annoyed breath.

“Dressing room mirrors, where I imagine you first saw this, aren’t slapped on walls without thought. They're engineered with angles and lightning to make clothes look as flattering as possible.” He brought his eye to yours. “Where did you see yourself today?”

“There’s a… mirror in my room.”

Donnie’s lip twitched with distaste. “That floor length one?”

You nodded.

“Dad uses that one to feel tall.” He sneered openly. “It tilts up from below, the worst possible perspective.”

You blinked a few rapid times.

“It took the ruching and blew it up.”

“So it’s not… that bad?”

“It’s anything, it's tasteful!” He spoke with an irritation that said that should have been obvious. “It fits your body well. Does it have a certain allure? Yes, I’ve already spoken of assets, but it is not a piece that invites unnecessary solicitation.” 

“Assets, assets. What are you, an ass man?” You retorted automatically. 

“There is nothing quite like sinking your teeth into that soft, inviting flesh.” He took your response and held it between his teeth.

In a blink, you saw an imaginary Donatello around your hips pointing to the fabric and on contact with the thought your face exploded.

“I say generally speaking, of course.” He clicked his tongue as if scolding you and turned away toward the water.

Hot.

You were too hot.

Run.

Throwing yourself forward, you submerged as indelicately as possible into the water.

Sinking like a stone into the silence, your burning flesh was quickly soothed by a cold lap.

A sweet embrace, you kicked to the surface and emerged with a pathetic gasp.

Never graceful, you shook yourself free of clingy drops and spun back around to view the rocks.

Donnie was staring up at the sky again and you sort of hated him for it.

Swim.

You’d swim with Mikey.

Spinning around, the other turtle was not only longer floating, but you couldn’t locate him at all. Quickly worrying that you had toppled him in your dive, you swam forward. “Mikey?”

Quieting to listen, you didn’t hear anything past the faint roiling of the water against its container.

Thinking he must have dove, you looked down to find Donnie’s earlier comment to be a correct one. With the water murky to a fault and a new fear cropped up. You had no idea what was in the water and you immediately darted for the closest shore. Something several long feet from Donnie, it was a sort of marshy landing that rocks from below steeping up to meet. They were covered in a slime that clung to your feet and had you pausing until you heard an off-toned lap behind you.

You whirled around with wide eyes and found a sea monster waiting for you.

Something matted with algae, it groaned pathetically and you sucked in enough air until the balloon was full enough to scream.

“What!? Who?! Where?!” The creature splashed with Mikey’s voice.

He’d been captured by another mutant.

You turned to get out of the water with some intention of getting to the tank.

It had to have missiles or something.

Anything to help.

You’d take a bowling ball launcher at this point.

Catching grip with one foot, you hoisted up the other. The many rocks acted like a disjointed ladder and your entire torso emerged from the water before one of your feet slid. The moment it happened felt like you were falling out of time. In slow motion, you knew your face was one of surprise. You painted an open expression where the imminent terror that you were falling couldn’t catch up as neurons to save yourself from the action. 

Your mind knew, but your face didn’t know that you were going to crack your head open on the rocks you just slipped on.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N!”

Two voices.

Too far.

Something skewered your side as the first injury of many.

Hoping only to black out on that first step, you willed your possessions to your friends.

You didn’t bother hoping they would remember you. 

You only hoped that they could make some use out of your worldly imprint.

No matter how small it was. 

Water rushed to greet you and shoved you away. 

That wasn’t right. 

That was the wrong direction.

Water swayed like waves. 

The equal and opposite reaction wouldn’t come until you fell in. 

Why had it preemptively come for you?

Your arms dangled heavily from gravity and you forced your eyes from wherever they had gone.

The monster was right in front of you. 

Its face was one of Michelangelo.

Green sludge caught in his blackened locks and his worried expression peered out from between a small part. 

He had you by the waist and was holding you up in the air. “Are you okay!?”

You were a loose toy strung up.

Flopping down, lifeless, you were a doll that couldn’t close its eyes until it was laid down.

A second deafening splash came as you hung there.

Mikey’s lips were moving awfully fast.

“Did they hit their head?!” Donnie’s voice broke through.

“No! Above water the whole time! Donnie! They aren’t saying anything, I don’t-”

“Shock?” Donnie wondered, but he never came into frame.

Where was he?

Mikey jostled you as one might bounce a colicky baby.

It was pulling a string on your back and you hacked on contact. 

You wheezed, forcing air in where terror had torn it from you. 

You fought. 

Not Mikey exactly, but the situation. 

It strung your arms back. 

It shoved your torso forward. 

It threw your head skyward. 

You gasped, alive. 

You saw blue.

It was the sky.

You hadn’t died.

Mikey had saved you.

Finally.

You came down from your arching to translate your joy. 

Mikey’s face slid into your vision and he was the picture of a boiled red tomato dotted with summertime spots.

He was looking at you. 

He had ogled you. 

He was embarrassed. 

Your blood pressure plummeted twice as fast as it had when you thought you were about to die.

This was worse.

This time you heard yourself scream as you lashed out.

Water flew up as if to welcome you, to bring you where you were meant to be. 

Drowned. 

Returned you to that place where you weren’t an object to be viewed.

You were a person floating free.

Liquid carried life.

It supported it.

It didn’t have it.

Vertigo struck you as you moved within a blink. 

In a disorientated spiral, your lids fell heavy as your inner ear tried to correct the imbalance. 

There were no longer hands around your waist. 

Something clicked like an engine uselessly turning over. 

Weary, you realized you were standing in a safe spot in the water. 

You drew up the dreary blinds of your curtain and found a muscled arm thrown out protectively in front of you. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!!” Mikey cried, loud and desperate.

“What the hell was that then!?” Donnie’s voice rang close.

That firm limb tucked you further behind someone. 

You were being shielded.

A squabble happened in front of you, but you only looked down at the jade appendage acting as your guard rail.

You touched the arm and it felt familiar.

“Don-nie?” Your voice came out synthetic.

His was the body you were behind and his face appeared in a whip of his head. “Are you alright? Can you swim? I’ll move.”

“I’m not…?” You weren’t swimming.

You weren’t doing anything.

You were standing in the water. 

“What…?”

You looked past Donnie and glimpsed Mikey with a faint blush still stuck to his cheeks.

“Y-you…!” It felt accusatory on your lips.

“I’m sorry!!!” Mikey screeched.

“Turn around, dummy!” Donnie growled hot and was in motion.

You were soon ushered into a spin with an indelicate hand to your back and all but rushed over to the rock you had jumped off of.

You heard a splash of what you assumed was Mikey growing distant behind you. 

You hoped that would cool him off. 

“You ready?” Donnie’s voice appeared like it was newly there. 

“For what?” You were already used.

What was left?

Was it time to take out the recycling?

“I’m going to lift you up. Your shirt is right there.” Donnie instructed. 

“My shirt…” You were forlorn.

It was your back-up comfort item.

“Ready?” Donnie asked again.

The water rocked you and you barely bumped his firm plastron. 

You nodded dumbly.

Your hips were taken in what you read as a clinical way. 

You were barely bounced once, then twice, in a way that ballet dancers got momentum to lift their partners. 

Sure enough, you were lifted cleanly out of the water.

Only this time you felt well handled.

You weren’t swung around like a toddler holding up their favorite doll.

A child who cared for his toys put you on a shelf.

When your knees touched down, you drank in the life of the rock and scrambled for your shirt.

All the things that had just occurred crashed into you.

Shoving your head through the hole, you yanked the shirt down your body as you were already in motion. Forest floor digging into your bare feet, you didn’t need the map to retrace your steps. You followed the single, winding, prickly path and emerged out by the cabin only to fly inside it. A sanctuary amongst the unrelenting woods, you left a rotting drip trail as you entered your room. Your door clattered from where you had thrown it open and you ripped your duffel bag to shreds to get to its confines.

Pulling on layer after layer, you could see Mikey’s blush with each piece of clothing.

He’d looked at you.

You shoved your feet into a third pair of socks.

His gaze was amorous.

Into a thermal that was very much against the season, you ran out of clothes and stormed the dresser.

Sexual.

There were oversized men’s clothes that struck you as maybe being Raph’s and you thanked their huge size.

You put shirt after shirt on.

Mikey had said, point blank, that he wanted to see how far his feelings went.

Why were you so stupid?

You screamed.

Raw and uncut.

Tearing at your larynx, you ripped a few too many layers off as they impeded your melt down.

You needed space to breathe.

You needed to be swallowed whole.

Stumbling out to that accursed mirror, the shape you found there was a frumpy one.

Smiling a teary look at it, you watched it warp your face into one of dismay and you cried.

Where had you last felt okay?

It wasn’t here.

Moving around the room you searched for it.

That intangible something that would help.

Knocking everything over, you finally got a hold of a much too large pillow and hugged it to your body.

It was large and not at all as firm as you wanted.

You needed a hard wall.

You needed that unrelenting nature.

You weren’t something to be judged with heat.

You needed a cold light the sun couldn’t supply.

The wall knocked.

You spun around with your pillow defense to find the back of a head waiting there.

“I come as an emissary.” Donnie spoke slow and methodical.

“You can-!” It wasn’t Mikey.

Your pillow fell slack into one hand.

It wasn’t Mikey.

You let it drop with a thump to the floor.

It wasn’t Mikey.

“…come in.”

You took a wobbly step to spread out your clothed legs in hopes of keeping yourself upright.

Donnie didn’t move.

“You can… come in…” You repeated, not sure if you had gotten the first phrase out.

“No.”

“No…?” You took another step and saw how Donnie was clearly beyond the boundary of your open door.

With his back to you. 

Not impeding on you in any way. 

“This is your space.” He spoke it like a finality. 

You stared at the knot of his mask tails and tried to place what you felt.

“Being out here with us…” Donnie let the sentence hang before he lowered his gaze to the floor. “I want to… respect that much.”

“Why’d you say it like that?”

“I prefer the term ‘sanctum,’ but I couldn’t fit it in.”

“A sacred place…?”

The back of his head nodded. “My lab is supposed to be one.”

Sanctums weren’t places to be invaded.

If they were then they were violated.  

He understood.

Is that what you felt?

Camaraderie?

Even his mania in the beginning had been one you made sense of.

Was that why you hadn’t complained?

No, you were rewriting history from your current perspective.

It was also the only one you knew.

It was one where you envied one man. 

It was where you once feared another. 

Now their roles were reversed. 

You never had to explain your misery to Donnie.

You didn’t have to make him understand.

He was the moon.

You rushed towards him.

Donnie heard the footsteps and made it about half a turn before you reached him. “As… I was saying, I talked to Michael and come in his stead to-”

You collided with that unrelenting wall of plastron. Finding an odd hinge between the front of his shell and the back, you did your best to tuck into that space and weaseled under his arm. You felt it rise above you, out of your way and a rotation brought you more towards his front. There you felt him stop to take your over-clothed form in.

“I’m sorry!” You choked on tears, rooting the sound as deep against Donnie’s wet clothes as possible.

He let your misery hang for exactly one second. 

Then he surrounded you in a soft moon glow.

He pulled you toward his chest and you burrowed closer to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I completely overreacted. It was just too much… Too much attention… the way he looked. He said… I thought he wouldn’t… I didn’t want…!”

A hand pet through the layers of your back.

Even and careful.

No further connotation other than to soothe.

Squirming to get your arms out from where you were crushing them, you wiggled them free to embrace him.

You squeezed a sigh right out of him.

“I know.” He spoke into your damp head. “I know…”

You nodded and basked in the tide. Pulled by the moon’s orbit, the waves rolled in and out with a sway. A gentle rocking, you were cast a comfortable drift by it. This was the one you had longed for from the swimming hole. Here, you floated amongst sturdy shores. Held safe, the guiding white light poured around you. One that pushed back against the darkness, it shone on you. Lucky to be in its reach, it wasn’t the type you soaked up. It instead washed over you in a cleanse. Feeling lighter and a little stifled, you extracted yourself from moisture to moisture.

Everything around you from your leaking face to the clingy pond water was soaked and you frowned down Donnie’s body. Standing in a little pool mostly created by him, you wanted to stick your tongue out at it, but you feared the bacteria clearly clinging to your skin.

“The cabin is yours tonight.”

Before you could register the words, you felt him strengthen his resolve with a puff of his chest.

“I don’t want to hear complaints otherwise.”

You wanted to pout.

“I checked the systems when we were doing our preliminary cleaning. The water will be hot. Shower, bathe, do whatever you’d like. We’ll be staying outside.”

You gave a faint nod to the wet floor.

“We’ll grill and I’ll make you a plate. Preference?”

You shook your head. “I don’t… feel like eating…”

“Bland it is.”

Now you were pouting.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Your head felt heavy.

“I still have a message from Mikey to deliver.”

“I really don’t want to hear it.” Irritation brought you to look at him.

Donnie took you in with a sort of smile. “You’ll want to.”

You dropped your features in a way that said you didn’t believe him.

“He said he’s not ready to talk as he’s having his own crisis, but he’ll let you know when he’s ready to apologize.” Donnie tilted his head, almost amused.

You blinked straight out of your bitterness to stare openly.

Donnie gave a single knowing nod.

“Enjoy your shower.” With one last sweep over you as if to check you were all still there, Donnie turned and headed for the door.

Watching him go, you saw the faint amber hue of sunset.

“It’ll all work out.” Donnie tossed just as he grabbed the knob to exit.

You turned and stormed straight to the bathroom. Drowning in clothes and scum, you locked the door tight and turned the shower knobs to their highest setting. Leaving the water to warm, you started removing your outermost shirt. As soon as it hit the ground you felt possessed. You tore off your clothes with each subsequent layer removed at a faster and faster pace. You needed to be freed. You needed that ridiculous protection off of you as soon as possible. All of it soiled, you stripped down bare and left your feet for last.

The moment they were naked and pressed to tile, you leapt into the old style tub. Instantly boiled by the too hot water, you let it scorch you with clenched teeth at first until the burn seared and you adjusted the dial for something reasonable. Still a lobster in a pot, you scrubbed your skin until you thought it might flake and then doused it in suds until you couldn’t see its color. A sea of white foam, the second scrounge came through, washing the detritus away.

Pickled in the process, you emerged and greedily took up every towel in the room. It meant toeing around the disgusting mound of clothes you’d left, but Donnie had said the cabin was yours. Until tomorrow when you’d clean the place up, you instead mourned how you hadn’t even brought your toothbrush in with you. Scowling at a fog coated mirror, you cracked the door and watched the steam leak out.

Chasing it with your ear, you didn’t hear anything, but there was a distinct lemon scent.

You followed the smell into the hall where you quickly placed it was cleaner. The floor had a sheen to it that spoke of a recent mopping. The clean line ending abruptly at your door said exactly who the culprit was. Donatello had snuck back in to clean and you were thankful for it. He’d left your sanctuary untouched and instead set a stool just outside the door. 

On it was a stack of comfortable looking clothes and a note.

‘Keep your room or upgrade. I recommend the one upstairs, second bedroom on the right.’

You folded the note along its lines and placed it back on the offered clothes. You then gathered the lot and took it with you along with a brave face as you entered your room. You barely looked up as you salvaged what you could from your duffel. Carrying the mostly limp sack, you then moved to follow your recommendation. It led you through the darkened cabin and up the winding wooden stairs where the door in question was closed. Knocking on it out of politeness, you found it empty and slipped inside. It was decorated similarly, but clearly different. Comfortable in its own sense, you went about your nightly routine as best you could and thanked the space for not having a mirror. Growing more weary by the second, you thought vaguely of meat as you instead pulled back the covers.

Sinking in and imagining charcoal lighting the men’s faces, you settled down into the welcoming embrace of bed.

You eventually got up and padded across a tiled floor.

Pulling out a single slick piece of black fabric, you double checked the door was closed before changing.

The perfect swimsuit was one you hadn’t imagined you’d find.

What luck, you thought, as you slipped it on.

Stepping into it, you shimmied into the fabric and turned for that show stopping image in the changing room.

It was perfect.

It covered you in all the right ways.

Finally, the piece you’d been looking for.

Smiling and striking pose after pose, you saw a hand wave above the curtain.

“Come in!” You called to it. 

Sanctum’s were only to be entered with permission. 

“Silly.” You looked over your pleasing image once more. “Is it still a violation if I request it?”

“I guess not.” Instead of drawing the curtain back, Donnie slipped through it.

Tucking himself a strong wall behind you, he looked into the mirror at you.

What looked back held no heat, only appreciation.

“Do you like it?” He checked with you without passing judgment himself.

“I do…” You smiled.

He gave one of his own, though subdued, and flicked his gaze down. “Look here.”

You lowered your gaze to find him kneeling behind you. With his head popped out around your hips, he was looking up at you in a way you liked quite a bit.

You felt powerful.

You were a light bright enough for him to want to project.

“This ruching here has leading lines.” He didn’t touch you, but his hands ghosted over you along the fabric’s pattern.

Your lips parted and your chest filled with heat.

A celestial body was meant to look on.

You were safe. 

“May I?” He asked you once again. 

You were glad and responded with a breathless, “Please.”

His mouth opened a dark orbital maw, a new moon, which then glinted into a teeth-filled waxing crescent headed in its trek to sink into your soft flesh.

You jolted the moment the teeth supposedly hit their mark. 

You stared into the dark abyss and saw drifting images of sharpened grins. 

You were dizzy.

A sheen of sweat to you, you tossed back a cover. 

The black hovel above you took shape as logs in the cabin ceiling. 

They lined up like thick thighs appearing from where board shorts had hiked up. 

Begging for a taste.

Awareness struck with a sharp inhale.

Fully awake and doused with dread from your dream, you voiced your despair with a whisper.

“Oh no…”

💛 NEXT 💛

I swear I handed this to my betas over a year ago... @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[freak-accident419]

Good Looking Boy

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: On a chilly December night, you and Billy catch up. Then, you make an important decision.

Word Count: 3.1k

Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, cursing, alcohol, mention of holidays (gift giving), slight suggestive comment

(A/n: thank you to everyone for all your support for this short multiple-part fic! It means so much to me! I hope I did its finale justice :) also credit to the person who suggested a bar scene !)

-

You watched him take a short sip of his beer as you fidgeted with your bottle.

You two agreed that you would catch up at this bar at the corner of the street when you were done with your shift. It has only been a few weeks since you’ve last seen him, but it felt like forever to you, hence the slight awkwardness in the atmosphere.

“So… did you pay off your debt…?” You ask hesitantly, continuing to fidget with the beer bottle in front of you. You finally looked at him, observing his brown eyes softening at the sight of you. The right side of his face was still scarred by the second-degree burn that hot coffee gave him. But you’ve only ever seen him like this, and so, to you, he still looked as handsome as he was since you last saw him.

“Yeah, I… I paid them off,” he answered bluntly.

“And the thing with the bikers? Are you… on good terms with them now?”

In response, he let out a scoff and a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

“Ugh, dude, what did you do?” You say with exasperation, though amused by his lighthearted manner.

“They wanted the money, but, um… They all sort of… still hate me, so… those assholes gave me a warning: if they see my face again, they’ll kill me, so…” He trails off, taking a fairly tame swig of alcohol before he continues. You noticed that he seemed calmer since you’ve last seen him. As if he worked on himself, his temper, and spontaneous vulgarity. You admired that. “I’m gonna have to go. Unwillingly leave town, you know.”

“Damn,” you mutter, briefly sipping your drink. “That was your initial plan anyways though, right? To, like, just leave this place?”

He let out a soft sigh, which slightly puzzled you. Why did he seem so disappointed?

“Before I was on my way to meet up with them, I just… I got the idea that maybe I just shouldn’t leave. I thought that, um… leaving someplace that’s, uh… desirable… would be a very idiotic thing for me to do,” he explains, only baffling you even more.

“Okay? But you said it yourself, after you paid them off, you wanted to leave town and start anew, have a fresh start. What makes Upstate New York so… great, I guess, that you don’t want to leave?” You inquire with a lighthearted chuckle.

He fidgets with his beer bottle anxiously before looking back at you to answer. “You…”

You were stunned. You opened your mouth slightly to respond, but no words came out. You didn’t know him too well—but after an hour of being stuck together, you knew him enough, at the very least. But why did you have such an impact on him? You guessed that you had an indubitable liking for him too—similar to a childlike crush, though fueled solely by shared trauma. But you never really thought of it that much until now.

“Billy, I…” you stuttered out. “I… I mean… You had a whole plan, I… I just don’t understand. I like you, Billy, but… why should I be the reason you would want to stay here? You don’t really know me…”

“Well…” He wanted to argue that you two already learned a lot about each other from the time you’ve spent together, but even he realized it would be faulty reasoning. “Fuck, I want to get to know you better, then,” he urged gently.

He looked down at your hands, which were on the table near your drink. He reached his hands towards yours hesitantly, giving you a look by the raise of his eyebrows that asked for your permission. You nodded, watching him finally grab your hands, observing your one wrist, in which the bruise from the zip tie was completely gone. He tenderly rubbed his thumb over your wrists and palms. You felt the warm metal of his ring run against your skin as he would move his index finger. The slightly red dent on his wrist that you last saw on the day you escaped had also disappeared entirely. So it seemed like the only thing that followed him—the only thing that haunted him ever since the gas station, was his burn scar.

“I just…” he began, continuing to look down at your hands as he caressed them. It was something he did a lot, you noticed. You think it calmed him down. “I don’t know why I’m so… pulled to you. It’s fucking stupid, I know, and I’ve probably sounded like a dumbass this entire time, but… I mean it when I say I want to get to know you.”

You stared down at your hands in his, unsure of how you felt. “Well… The bikers, they said that they were gonna kill you if they see your face again. That’s, like… implying they want you out of town. You have to go, Billy. You can’t, shit, risk your life for me.”

“That’s why I want you to run away with me,” he urged softly.

“Billy—”

“I want you to come with me,” he pleads. In his mind, Billy thought it was quite ironic how he wanted you to go with him so badly; he rejected Melinda almost immediately when she asked to go with him. But this was different. You weren’t Melinda. You were you. And he desperately wanted to leave with you. But there seemed to be no way for that to happen.

“Billy, we already talked about this. I… I can’t just leave everything I have here behind,” you reason. “Plus, it’s been weeks ever since I last saw you. You had all this time to come see me, where have you been?”

He pursed his lips. “After the bikers gave me a few ‘friendly’ warning shots, I sort of left immediately. I just kept going west. Stayed in a couple motels. But it just… felt wrong, you know? I felt empty and… fuck, out of place… So, I guess I just… came back here to see you one more time…” he confessed, making your heart beat faster and face warmer. Nobody has ever done this grand of a gesture for you. You almost felt bad. You had made a deep connection with him back at the gas station, and suddenly you were worth a lot to him. “Shit, I… I honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to, because I knew it would be… really fucking bad if I tried to come back, but… You were always on my mind. Every second, I… thought about your laughter, and your voice, and I didn’t want to forget it. And-and most of all, you saved my life.” You frowned, because you considered it as a team effort, rather. “Something finally good in my life, for the first fucking time, happened to me and I can’t just—just stand by and let it just leave while I could do something about it.”

You were surprised, to say the least. You never knew you could be this important to someone, let alone someone you’ve only been around with for less than a day. “Billy, I—” You stammered with fluster. “I have to admit, I thought about you multiple times ever since. I sort of always wished I’d run into you whenever I went to a gas station. I think I even dreamed about you multiple times… To be honest, I always thought what would’ve happened if I said yes before and left with you.” He felt your thumb trace delicately along the back of his hand. “Never thought I’d ever think of a gas station robber as handsome and charming.” He chuckled softly in response, his lips forming into a cute, flattered smile.

“I love that you’re here, really. I love that you came back to see me,” You told him. “But… like I said, I can’t come with you.” You would love to, however, you knew it. But you couldn’t just leave everything you had here behind… Could you?

He sighed softly. “Okay, I understand,” he says. “But shit, just… Let me get to know you better before I have to leave for sure. Please. How about I just take you for a drive, then? Just around the block?”

Billy was heavily insistent. After all, he always goes for what he wants.

“The both of us have been drinking, Billy,” you say with guilt. You hated constantly rejecting him. You did want to get to know him better, you did want to spend time with him, but the circumstances and motives were utterly complicated.

You chuckled a bit, however, sort of amused by how much he wanted to be around you. “I don’t know, you can’t just, like… enjoy the moment right now?” You ask as you two look back down at your hands, which were being gently rubbed against each other, Billy’s thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“I don’t know if that’s gonna be enough for me, Y/n,” he claimed dejectedly.

“Why don’t we just take a walk, then? To, like, the nearest park or something,” you offer, feeling his warm fingertips glide softly over your nails. “We could… We could do that.”

After thinking about it for a second, he nodded compliantly.

***

It was supposed to be dark outside, however the street lamps nearby and string lights across buildings liberally illuminated the area. It has been probably half an hour since you two sat down on a park bench, just speaking to each other with occasional banter. That was probably the strongest thing you had with him: communication. Just talking about random things that led to discovering more things about one another. You’d done that while you were tied up together after all. It was how you mainly connected in that moment.

That was another thing, however. You weren’t forced in proximity anymore, but you two still wanted more of each other. Even if you didn’t show it. Your rejection did quite a number on Billy’s belief that his feelings were reciprocated, but as you two proceeded to laugh and talk together, it was reinforced.

“Okay… Quentin Tarantino.” You raise an eyebrow, grinning as you watched your warm breath escape your lips in a hazy, white mist.

“Damn. That one foot fetish guy?” he laughed.

“Yeah, the—the foot fetish guy,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, easy, Pulp Fiction,” he answered. Met with your silence, he looked at you and you shook your head, smiling. “No?”

“No, I wouldn’t make it that obvious—”

“Kill Bill.”

“N—”

“Volume one or two?” You grin as he continued to guess wrong in your game. “Seriously, none of those?”

“From Dusk Til Dawn?” He nearly pouted, it was adorable. “I give up.”

“Jackie Brown. C’mon, man,” you snicker.

He playfully rolled his eyes, scoffing, making you giggle.

This was something you two did back at Paradise Pumps as well, while tied up and exhausted. You made a little game where you basically had to think of a movie and the other had to guess it by only knowing the name of its director.

He smiles softly as he looks at you, but then it gradually dropped, as the recurring thought that he would never see you again invaded his mind once more.

“You good?” You ask reluctantly, seeing his facial expression change.

“Yeah, I just…”

“You don’t want to leave me?” You finish his sentence with a sigh, seeing him nod in response. “It’s not so bad, Billy. You could leave, settle down, start a new life and leave behind all that crime and… biker gang beef,” you offer a small laugh before you continue.

“You could find somebody who is worthier than me. Someone who you didn’t bond with through shared trauma and forced proximity. Someone who would leave everything behind just for you, unlike me.” You wish you could, honestly. What was really stopping you? Fear? Guilt?

Billy scoffs as he listened to your statements, deeming them as bullshit. “Y/n, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” Your eyebrows raise in bewilderment. “I don’t want someone else, okay? I want you... Just you.”

Your heart nearly stopped and you looked at him with sole adoration for him.

And you had no idea what came over you in this moment, because once you heard him say this, you immediately pressed your lips to his, while hesitantly bringing your hands up to his face to gently hold it.

You heard his breath hitch as he soon melts into the kiss, moving his lips with yours and holding onto your wrists. His lips were soft and warm, and he was being nothing but gentle with you. You felt the the tender skin of his burn against your fingertips, your delicate and careful touch soothing him.

You weren’t sure what kind of confidence boost let you do something so impulsive as kissing someone. But the entire night, Billy had been relentlessly winning over your heart, expressing his immense admiration for you. You fell for him. And you had to do something about that.

“Fuck, you know, that…” he began hoarsely once your lips have separated, yet your faces were still very close to each other, switching back and forth from looking deeply into one’s eyes to their lips. “That was fucking evil. That just made it even harder for me to leave you,” he stressed as you two let out small, quiet chuckles.

He convinced you enough, you thought. What did you really have to lose…?

Or, rather, what would you gain?

“You don’t have to,” your voice was slightly raspy as you spoke with a smirk.

And what you would say next had marked your decision. “I’m coming with you, cowboy.”

He parted his lips in shock, so before he could say anything, you just kissed him again, deeply and affectionately, as you couldn’t help but smile in the kiss. You felt him pull you closer by the waist in a fairly strong grip, as if you were to disappear if he let you go. It was a sweet and affectionate kiss, the two of you expressing your admiration and fondness for each other. It was supposed to be cold, hell, it was December in New York. But you couldn’t help but feel pure warmth each second your kiss remained.

*** Two Weeks Later ***

“Open it,” you giggle softly.

“Seriously, when did you get the time to wrap a whole ass gift when we’ve been, like, on the road together this whole time?” Billy says with a smile as he examines the thin, neatly wrapped box in his hands.

“I found a service. While you were preoccupied. Now shut up. Happy Holidays. Open the damn thing.”

It’s been about two weeks since you agreed with leaving with him. After resigning from your job, you basically packed your bags and savings and he picked you up. You two didn’t face any problems so far as you traveled east. You only had an increased admiration for each other, as well as mutual understandings.

Now, you were in an empty parking lot, keeping warm inside the car during the evening. You surprised him with a wrapped gift for the holidays.

You watched him rip off the wrapping paper, making you involuntarily laugh as you saw his expression of disbelief, represented by his playful scoff and the rolling of his eyes.

‘Never Get Angry Again: The Foolproof Way to Stay Calm and in Control in Any Conversation or Situation’ by David J. Lieberman, PhD

He raised his eyebrows as he read over the cover of the anger management book and presented it to you. “Seriously?”

You snicker impishly as you see an amused smile creep at the corner of his lips. “Told you I would, didn’t I?”

“You are terrible,” Billy joked endearingly with a low chuckle.

“I know,” you retort cunningly, reaching over the center console of the car to give him a soft peck on the lips.

“But you have to admit, Y/n, I have been working on myself ever since,” he points out, making you scoff.

“Yeah, but you totally lashed out on that one guy when we were at that convenience store in Pittsburgh,” you insist.

“Okay, well, in my defense, I really didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he shrugged with a knowing grin.

“Damn, should I have gotten you a book on jealousy as well?” you sneer.

“Hey, watch it,” he warned playfully.

“You know what, yeah, you’re right. I digress,” you concur nonchalantly. “If it weren’t for him getting an intense reaction out of you, then you wouldn’t have taken me straight to the bathroom and—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he chuckled softly as you laughed at your own delivery. “Just…” He reached in the back, grabbing a brown box that was sealed with clear tape. “Open your gift. Sorry I didn’t have the time to wrap it, like, I still have no idea how you had the time to do it behind my back, but yeah.”

He handed you his keys so you could rip the tape, then you opened the box, being met with styrofoam packaging. You removed the top layer, and then let out a small gasp as you saw the object, taking it in your hands.

It was a small Albany, New York snow globe. You were beaming as you shook it, watching the “snow” fall down on the capitol building.

“I thought you’d be homesick, so I snatched it right before we left,” he explained, smiling as he sees your reaction.

“Oh my god, Billy, it’s perfect,” you say in awe, then reach over the center console again to hug him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you. “Thank you so much,” you say, kissing him deeply on his lips.

“‘F course, Y/n,” he mumbled sweetly, affectionately returning your kisses.

“You’re perfect,” you nearly whispered as you set the snow globe back in the box so your hands were free to hold his face. He always loved when you would do that. It brought a sort of comfort to him, making him feel safe and secure. He leaned into your touch as you kissed the right side of his face—his forehead and cheek—which were the areas that had been mildly burnt.

“Even when I robbed a gas station?” He asked under his breath, raising an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

He always had a problem with being defined and associated with criminality, so you found it quite ironic for him to point it out.

“I’m fucking with you.”

You shove him playfully, which only resulted in him bringing you into an intense, deep kiss. “You are so perfect too, you know that?” He mutters softly. “I’m so fucking glad you came with me.” He artfully grabbed your hand and looked at you intimately as he pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist—the one that was zip tied to his. The one where the bruise on it had now been fully healed and gone.

“Me too,” you murmur ardently.