#more on the sketchier side

[pitchblackespresso]

My entry for @bahbahhh's DTIYS!

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, unbalanced power dynamics, obsessive/possessive behavior, and manipulation.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who's the best security you could possibly ask for. You've been told that hybrids aren't very good for protection, that you'd be better off just getting a regular dog or, better yet, not living alone in one of the sketchier neighborhoods of a notoriously unsafe city, but those people haven't meant your Kento. Stern, stoic, and loyal - he keeps you safe, helps around the house, and doesn't need (or want, for that matter) half of the attention a normal dog would need. Really, it's more like having a personal bodyguard than a pet. You're sure he'd prefer if it if you treated him more like the former than the latter, too.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who'd practically be human if it wasn't for the adorably pointed ears on top of his head, the wiry tail at the base of his spine, and the dull canines you sometimes catch a glimpse of during one of his rare smiles. It's clear that he doesn't consider himself to be like most hybrids, so you do your best to treat him like a roommate - giving him his space, making sure he has his privacy, constantly resisting the urge to run your hands through his hair and apologizing profusely when you inevitably fail. He claims he doesn't mind, not if it's you, but you've seen the way his lips curl when strangers so much as approach him, how he rolls his eyes when he sees other hybrids sitting on their owners' laps or begging for treats. You're not eager to get on his bad side, even if you do occasionally catch him slipping into your bed in the middle of the night.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who's mistaken for your boyfriend at least once a week. It's your own fault, really. He likes to walk you to work, run errands while you're away, all the things a stay-at-home boyfriend would usually do if he were as loving and as attentive as Nanami. It's always embarrassing, even if all you have to do is nod to one of his less-than-human features to clear up the misunderstanding. Still, it happens so often, and you're not proud to admit that from time to time, you don't have the energy to do anything but smile and nod when your elderly neighbor compliments the 'hunk of a man' living with you.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who's less naturally protective than you think he is. He's concerned with your safety, of course, but that's not a privilege that extends to the male coworkers he catches with a hand on the small of your back, to the friends who drag you out of your shared apartment and don't bring you back until the early hours of the morning. He spends more nights than he's proud of standing outside of your bedroom door, listening for any signs of life, waiting for an intruder, or a nightmare - any excuse to cross that unspoken boundary. It'd be more practical to spend his nights on the foot of your bed like every other drooling, filthy mutt hybrid, but that's not the kind of relationship he wants to have with you. Not if you have to think of him as a dog to get there.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who has to fuck his fist three times a day to offset his humiliating instincts. He tried for complete abstinence at first, not to think about you in that context at all, but there's only so many hours of his day he can spend with his knot pressed into his stomach, his cock twitching every time you bend over or brush against him. Still, it's far from a long-term solution. How could it be, when he still cums untouched every time you scratch the base of his ears?

Guard Dog!Nanami, who volunteers to take care of your household chores so he'll have an excuse to root through your laundry while you're away. He's surprised you haven't noticed just how much of your underwear mysteriously vanishes with every load, but even if you were less oblivious, he'd rather you be suspicious of him than ever find the hoard of tattered, stained, ruined fabric he keeps underneath his mattress.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who knows this can't go on for much longer. He loves you, and he respects you, and he knows that you'll never really see him as anything more than a pet, but he's can't seem to bring himself to see you as a master. And, when he's walking you home late at night after yet another unplanned bar crawl, when he's listening to you whine half-coherently about how hard it is to live with a hybrid that's so close to human, he may pass a darkened alleyway and listen to the long-buried, animalistic mind urging Nanami to claim what belongs to him.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who knows that you'll never make a very good master and he'll never make a very good pet. But, that doesn't mean he can't hope that you'll both be better off after your roles are reversed.

[caliartcat]

if the law's not on your side, use your fists! more under cut

i love the idea of apollo being a troubled foster kid (i mean it makes sense considering his circumstances) before getting into law, so i drew him how i'd imagine at 15/16 (maybe? i didn't think too hard about it while drawing). i definitely went out of my comfort zone of cute soft art because i didnt think it'd fit, so i did more harsher, sketchier lines and cell shading instead of nice blended shading, which i am not used to at all. also yea thats his binder hes trans. extra version that's just lineart <3

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Embarrassed

Part 1 (Useless)

Hero groaned as they woke up. They felt so horrible. Their head feels like someone has been hitting it with a hammer, their throat is dry and their eyes are stuck together. They sigh deeply as they try to move their body. They quickly stop as they come to the conclusion that everything hurts.

They try to peel their eyes open and look around. The sun shines softly through a gap between the curtains, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. They feel the soft covers of the bed against their sweat -covered skin. They really needed a shower. They look up to go to their bathroom and get cleaned up.

Only… the door to the bathroom wasn't there. And the bed was in a different position. And the window was not where it's supposed to be. They were in a completely different room. Hero shot up from the bed. Where the hell were they ?! And whose shirt were they wearing ?! Where were their clothes then ?! They immediately opened the first door they could reach and run out like a lunatic.

“Well, good morning to you too,” a voice says from the kitchen. Hero stops and looks around. They are standing in the middle of a living room looking at the open kitchen with Villain looking back at them.

Villain… they are looking at Villain… in what looks like their apartment…shit. “I made breakfast if your stomach can handle it,” Villain says pointing at the stove with their spatula. “What?” is the only thing Hero can blurt out. “Breakfast…” Villain answers slowly. Hero can't follow anymore. Why are they in Villain's apartment and why is Villain making breakfast for them?

“You drank that much, huh?” Villain says as they put a plate on the table. It smelled really good. It was only now that Hero noticed how empty their stomach felt. “Drank?” Hero asks as they move towards the food. At this point they don't care that it could be poisoned, it smelled too good. Villain only nods and turns around to make something for themselves.

Then it all came back. The fight with supervillain, how hard they lost, their partner leaving and not telling them why, the walk to the first bar they found, getting kicked out of said bar after they got too drunk, going to the sketchier side of the city, going inside another bar, getting even more drunk and singing karaoke on a non -existing karaoke microphone, Villain dragging them onto a barstool to prevent themselves from embarrassing themselves further, and then…nothing.

They snap back to reality as Villain sits down in front of them. Hero hides their face with their hands. They were so, so embarrassed. “I´ve seen worse,” Villain says as they cut into their omelet. “How can you have seen worse? I was singing Karaoke in the middle of the bar,” Hero sighs. They were praying nobody filmed it. They could already see the headlines. Villain only hums in response. “There was no Karaoke. I was asking people to sing along, Villain. If this comes out, I am ruined,” Hero says back, a certain frustration in their voice. “Rather a fun drunk than a mean drunk,” Villain answers, not looking up from their breakfast.

“What even happened after you put me on that stool?” Hero asks although they are not sure they want the answer. “Nothing much, you told me your entire life story, then you begged me for more drinks. I said no and when I tried to have a heartfelt conversation with you, you fell asleep. So, not knowing where you lived, I brought you here.” Villain continued to eat their breakfast while speaking. “Like always you didn't make it easy and you puked like, three times. Plus, I'm pretty sure you peed on yourself so make sure you take a shower.”

Hero groaned and let their head fall on the table. Why? Why did they do this? “You can use my shower. I'll put some clean clothes on the bed,” Villain says as they finish up the omelet. “Thanks,” Hero mumbles, their head still on the table. Villain takes both plates and stands up to go to the kitchen. Hero drags themselves to the shower. They want to sink through the floor and never see the daylight again.

~

It's only after Hero's shower that they really look around. The clothes Villain gave them are comfortable and Hero lets their mind relax. Maybe it wasn't so bad? Villain's living room is filled with little trinkets of things they seem to like, a dog is sleeping in front of the couch and their shelves are filled with books.

They look at Villain. Usually they are in their suit and seem distant and cruel. But here, in their home, they seem gentle and calming. They are doing dishes wearing sweats and their hair is still a little messed up from sleeping. Hero hates to admit it but they look almost cute.

As soon as the thought pops up, they push it back. That's a bad thing to think. It's a Villain. Plus, they only broke up with their partner a few hours ago. They really needed to stop romanticizing every single person the moment they do something nice.

Yet, when they come closer they can't help but pull Villain into a hug. They can feel Villain stiffen under their arms and relax again slowly. “Are you still drunk?” they ask, hugging them back. “No,” Hero answers, “I just wanted to thank you,”

“Oh,” Villain says, “You could stay a bit longer if you'd like.”

Hero only nods. They don't feel like going home. They don't want to see the empty house.

Hi! A lot of people were interested in a part two, so here it is! I hope you enjoy it! I also wanted to thank everyone for being so nice about the last one. I was really suprised about how many people actually wanted a part two.

(@cassidysinferno @m4iloblu3 @thescribblednovel @b0wwyy @meerahhhh @ghostlyexpertlight asked for a part two) (I can untag you from the post if you'd like, just let me know)

[sugarglider-s]

Bigender Jounouchi is one of my many correct and true thoughts. Stay tuned for more

[ID: two digital drawings of Jounouchi. The first shows her smirking and looking to the side. He wears an outfit similar to his season 4 design but with an added light blue bandana tied around his head. Text says “he/she bigender Jou realness…” and a small reference picture of Jounouchi in canon wearing a similar bandana. The second image shows a much sketchier drawing, with Jounouchi pointing to the side of the viewer in an exaggerated perspective shot. She’s grinning and shapes float around her. End ID]

[desceros]

so. we are all familiar with villain rise leo x reader by now. but do u have any headcanons or just ideas about villain rise donnie x reader ? 🤔

so. this, uh. this got out of hand quickly

villain!donnie au where splinter didn't scoop up all of the turtles when he fled, and donnie got left behind in the exploding lab. god i love pretty boys with trauma

as the lab explodes around him, little baby donnie barely finds a safe place to hide so he survives. he gets crushed under some rubble, and he and his shell becomes scratched and bruised. after everything settles down, he crawls out and manages to escape to the streets of the hidden city. not properly tended, his wounds heal improperly and scar, leaving him always just a little bit in pain.

despite the odds, donnie survives. he's resourceful and brilliant, and with his naturally aggressive nature, he manages. after a painful lesson where he's nearly killed by a small local gang, he learns that hiding his soft shell is important, so he begins picking through the trash and putting things together. he's good at it, he realizes quickly. able to see things that connect together and make something bigger than their parts. he begins to scrap together all kinds of contraptions; a cover for his shell, a tool to help him break into people's houses for their blankets when it gets cold, something that plays soft music and keeps him company when he feels a little hollow in the back alleyway like he's supposed to have someone with him and doesn't.

as he grows up, he learns. he has a cold exterior that never betrays his inner thoughts, because those are just as vulnerable as his soft shell. he has no friends, no family, nobody but himself. he's so, so quick to attack, cruel and unforgiving, defensive and hardened from his youth. if he hurts you first, you can't hurt him, after all.

he starts making money selling his tech to sketchy people, until finally he manages to land an actual apartment. he goes one on the sketchier side of town so he can twist the landlord's arm (read: blackmail) into letting him do whatever he wants. running water, heating, a bed; these are all things he quickly becomes picky about, now that he has them. he craves comfort, so he remodels the entire place from the inside until it's unrecognizable. then, wanting more, making enough money because he's so fucking good at hacking and tech, he gets the apartment next to his, too. puts a door between them. refurbishes the other one into a full-blown lab where he can push, create, experiment.

he's got himself convinced that he prefers it this way, that the hum of his tech around him is all he needs. he finishes something and looks at it, almost like he's waiting for... for something. (...for someone to tell him he's amazing.) but he brushes it off, puts it to the side, then moves onto the next thing. this is all he needs. this is all he needs.

one day, he wants more. there's one more apartment on his side of the floor, so he goes to the landlord. unfortunately, there's someone inside, and they're, uh. not to be messed with. no matter how much donnie twists and grills. infuriated, he goes home to take matters into his own hands—only to learn that the person in the apartment next to his is you.

you are the underpaid, overworked, exhausted, single, addicted to this black swill that you call coffee but you're pretty sure is some kind of yokai magic juice personal assistant to one baron draxum. the motherfucker's been trying to get you to move into his lab for a few years now, but if you have to spend one more minute in his presence, you'll scream. also, you warned him that if he even thinks about mutating you, you'll quit, and since you're the best goddamned assistant he's ever had, quadrupling his tracking numbers since you started, you're also one hundred percent human. ('when you are the last human, then i shall mutate you, as i will no longer have need of your services then.' 'try it. i'll gnaw your fucking arm off and password lock the coffee machine.' '...bah.')

you meet donnie when a package is delivered, mistakenly, to your apartment with his name on it. (it's a passive aggressive gesture where he had it specifically sent to your apartment, so you could come talk to him and he would, uh, kindly inform you that you'll be moving.) unfortunately for him, you're used to dealing with mad scientist egomaniacs whose respect is nigh impossible to earn, so when he tries to threaten you, you laugh in his face, drop the box off at his feet, and go to work.

.......donnie stares at the spot where you were for a good, like, five minutes after you leave.

over the next few months, over and over this little green fucker next door makes your life miserable. he does weird experiments at weird hours—until he learns that actually, you work weird hours, so then he does them at normal hours which keeps you from getting any sleep. he blares loud, obnoxious music. he leaves snide messages on the corkboard by the stairs, even though you both know that you're the only two people who live here so there's only one person who could be doing it. he fucking mutates your favorite pothos plant where it was sitting, innocent, beautiful, on your balcony, so now it sings to you exclusively in nickelback lyrics when you go to water it. (...your one consulation there is that, at least, you aren't the only one who suffers.)

donnie, meanwhile, is perplexed. enraged. how the fuck are you so resilient?! he has done everything short of actually shooting you in the face, which he would have done were it not for your tie to baron fucking draxum, and yet you're still fucking here, preventing the expansion of his lab. it's infuriating. he can't stand the sight of you. just looking at your face and the way you smile and laugh at his machinations makes his chest feel tight. his fingers curl into fists when he looks at you bending over in those stupid pencil skirts of yours to grab your mail when he leaves the door open and it all falls to the floor. he wants to wrap his fingers around your pretty little neck and pin you to the nearest surface and squeeze until—until—

...oh. oh.

the day you get a beautiful bouquet of flesh-eating mutant yokai lilies on your front doorstep, no note attached because really there's only one person who has the resources to do this, the bottom of your stomach drops as you realize, perhaps too late, that you have attracted the gaze of something truly, truly terrible.

[massy2ly]

Okay, but seriously, why is the kidnapped dude out here playing Boy Scout and tying up the other hostages? Like, who signed off on this circus?

Don’t hit me with the “Fadel has a broken arm” excuse. That’s not just some injured, lazy guy—that’s a hitman, plain and simple. I couldn’t tie someone up as perfectly as he did Style in that pool scene, even if I had both hands free and a YouTube tutorial.

And Style—my guy, what’s your deal? Why does he look so chill about it? Who’s out here restraining a couple like it’s a regular Tuesday? It’s like he’s done this before, which is weird, and frankly, it’s making me suspicious. I’ve been scrolling TikTok lately, and episode 8 has me questioning if all those wild theories about Style having some secret agenda or being involved in this mess could be valid. The guy just keeps acting sketchier by the minute. And then you got Fadel being lazy, moody and just chilling like, “ok, are you done? Grab whatever you need, baby.” I’m officially side-eyeing everyone in this show.

First, there was that whole “coincidence” with the stray dog/client, Boonterm. Then Style was low-key hiding Keen from Fadel (Keen, who he already recognized from the restaurant). And the bowling lane incident. The way he grabbed that gun, ready to use it. And then—because why not—he puts the safety on before getting into the bathtub, like it’s all part of some weird hostage chic routine.

He’s just so sus sometimes, but I can’t tell if he’s genuinely out of his mind for comic effect or if there’s something more brewing under all that. Honestly, I’m still leaning toward these fan theories being just plain wrong. Like, THK has played us way too many times before, and we keep falling for it. Remember when we thought the burger pin actually meant something? A secret tracker or listening device, lol. Or when we hyped up Bison being a secret genius (spoiler: he wasn’t, he cried his heart out)? Or how we thought Fadel agreeing to the boyfriend proposal was part of some master plan? LMAO, we stayed losing. So yeah, while Style’s antics are weird af, I’m not holding my breath for any big twists. We’ve been burned too many times.

[dehydrated-turtle]

Sketchy Motel and Midnight Jerking

//warnings// smut, nsfw, 16+, mdni

//contents// Dick Grayson x transmasc!reader, trans reader, masturbation, one bed, transmasc reader

//synopsis// You, a detective are working with your long time friend, Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing on a case but when you get to the stakeout motel, they only have one room with the one bed. One thing leads to another... wc - 3.2k

//on ao3//

Driving to the outskirts of Blüdhaven, you and Dick were on your merry way to start a steakout on some drug dealers that have been selling tainted drugs to kids. Nightwing had gotten a “tip” (he beat up a thug) that the ring leader was staying in a sketchy house on the outskirts. Lucky for you guys, there was an even sketchier motel across the street that had a perfect view from the windows, spectacular for surveillance. 

You had become Dick’s go to cop in ‘haven after you “proved yourself” working on another case with him. You slowly became really close friends and being one of the best detectives in your precinct, you found out his secret identity, bringing the two of you even closer. 

“Looks like we’re pulling up to it now.” Dick says, turning the steering wheel and pulling into a gravel parking lot. The motel looked like it was on the verge of being abandoned, eaves troughs hanging down off the roof, clear water damage from outside , doors with no handles, and shingles missing from the roof. 

“Quaint.” you sigh, taking a good look at the building as Dick parks the car. 

“C’mon, let's get a room and set up surveillance, I wanna get it up and running as soon as possible.” 

You unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car onto the rough parking lot gravel, too cheap to get pavement I guess. As you keep looking at the state of the building, you follow Dick to the check-in office to get a room. 

As you walk in the door, a little bell jingles above your heads and a short, raven haired woman comes out from the back room. 

“What can I do you for?” 

“Uh, a room preferably.” Dick said with a chuckle and his signature friendly smile. You’ve seen him use it on kids who were in danger or to colleagues of yours. 

“Alright, let's see here…” She turned around to the wall that’s not so full of keys, “I’ve got one room left. Just a heads up, there’s only one bed so you two boys are going to have to share.” She hands Dick the key. 

“How could you only have one room, the parking lot was empty?” He says, looking at the key. 

“I dunno what to tell you kid, you see any more keys on this wall? How long?” 

He looks over at you nervously, “Uh, 4 nights.” He says while the woman taps something into her computer and Dick taps his card on the debit machine so your four nights are all paid for. No taking this out for company charges because it’s technically not a case. At least an official one. 

The two of you walk back out the jingly door and up the steps to try and find your room, 204. The door seemed tattered and like it had been beaten down in the past but at least the lock worked once you got in. Just as the woman said, one bed, queen sized so at least you could have your own space and not be practically on top of eachother. 

“Ok I’m going to go get some of the bags from the car, wanna help?” You say, walking to the door. 

“Sure, sure.” He replies, hurrying to the door and following you close behind. 

After you bring up all of your luggage and the many, many bags and cases of surveillance equipment, Dick flops down on the bed with a heaving sigh. You place the last case on the floor near the window and walk over to the bed as well, sitting on the opposite side as Dick. 

“I really don’t want to set all the stuff up right now. Maybe we can just set it up tomorrow morning, first thing.” Dick groans, turning onto his side to face you. 

“Yeah, it’s getting dark anyway, might as well get ready for bed.” You get off the bed and head toward your suitcase to get out a change of clothes and your toiletries bag before making your way to the bathroom. Said bathroom is disgusting but that’s not surprising, you just avoid the corners and don’t swallow the water. You change into your PJs which are really just a hoodie and a pair of shorts. You leave the room and walk back to your suitcase to pull out your phone charger and plug it into the wall. 

You ignore Dick as he gets his stuff out–just the same as you–and shuts the door to the bathroom as you crawl under the covers which seem to be relatively clean, at least they smell freshly washed. You lay on your side facing the bathroom door, scrolling on your phone when Dick comes out, wearing a tee shirt and boxers. You give him a surprised look and he responds, 

“Forgot my pants.” 

“Sure you did, or you just wanted me to see how much you’re packing.” You say teasingly with a smile. You mean it as a joke but he still flushes nonetheless and turns away. Odd. He pulls his pair of sweats on over his boxers and comes back to the bed. He lifts the covers and scoots underneath. For a second your legs brush ever so slightly. 

“Sorry,” he says, rather frantically. Also odd. 

“Oh, no it’s ok.” You look up at him, he's still so flushed. “Ok, I’m going to sleep, I’m beat. G’night, Dick.” You roll over and snuggle into the pillow. 

“‘Night…” He replies, also shuffling into a more comfortable position to sleep in. 

You don’t really remember falling asleep but you definitely remember waking up: you had apparently rolled over again because now you were facing inward. You were woken by some soft noises coming from beside you. You’re still not sure what it is because you’re still half asleep but as you open your eyes slowly, you have a perfect view of Dick’s dick, glistening in the moonlight. You don’t want to make it weird so you just stay perfectly still, watching him jerk off. 

His soft, quiet moans and whimpers make your boxers absolutley soiled, you try not to make any moans yourself. The squelching of his wet cock ringing in your ears making it extremely hard not to intervene. The bed starts to rock just slightly as he pumps his hand up and down, pulling him closer to a climax. You can’t see his face, with the way your head is, so you know he can’t see your eyes so you just keep watching, waiting until he’s done so as to not make it awkward for him until… 

He says your name. 

Amidst his moans and squealing whimpers, your name is whispered along with a string of profanities. His hand starts to move faster and his voice, louder. You want to intervene more than ever, now knowing that he’s jerking it to you and, by the looks of it, he’s about to cum. 

But what if you misheard. 

What if he’s thinking of someone else. 

What if he wouldn’t want you to touch him. 

Too many risks. 

His hand stutters and he squeals as you watch him cum all over his lower abdomen, rivers of white, pouring out of his tip. He lets out a sigh and dips his fingers into the cum on his abs, bringing it up to his mouth. You squeeze your legs together, trying desperately to feel something on your throbbing clit without arousing suspicion that you’re awake. 

He slides out of bed and heads toward the bathroom, nothing on his lower half so you watch his perfect ass as he walks away. There goes your opportunity. 

You roll over and try to go to sleep but the image of his pristine cock keeps popping up every time you close your eyes, shimmering and jumping in his hand. Fantasies come to mind, you sucking away at it, bouncing on it for hours, maybe adding a vibrator to the mix before he comes back through the bathroom door. You can only imagine what his soft cock looks like as he comes back, rebounding between his perfectly toned thighs before he puts his pants back on. You feel him crawl back into the bed, pausing for a moment before sliding down into the covers. After a couple of minutes, you fall back asleep again. 

This time you wake up to Dick’s hand on your shoulder and his voice pulling you out of your REM. You were facing him again, but this time one of his thighs was between yours and your hips were rolling against it. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living. I was going to leave you be but… you said my name, thought maybe I should intervene so, I dunno, you could get the most out of it?” He looks really flushed again but this time he’s keeping eye contact. He did what you couldn’t, little fucker. You’re too tired to really know what’s happening so you just keep rolling and let out a whimpering moan. “Is that a yes?” He asks, lifting your chin so you meet his eyes. All you do is nod. “I’m going to need a verbal confirmation.” 

“ Please just fuck me.” You slur, your eyes lidded and heavy still, but not until Dick takes your lips into a deep and sensuous kiss, rolling his hips along with yours, cock hard and so very ready. The pheromones are practically flying around the room. You moan gutteraly into the kiss as you feel his cock jump against your lower abdomen. Dick’s lips leave yours and start to travel along your neck, down to where your hoodie starts. 

“Mind if I take this off?” he asks, so sweetly. 

“No…” You reply, sitting up and lifting it off your torso and throwing it onto the ground. He pushes you by the shoulder so you’re laying back on the bed before he straddles your hips and kisses the nape of your neck. His kisses take a long journey, peppering and fluttering all the way down your chest, abs, and stomach before getting to the waistband of your shorts. 

“This ok?” he asks, looking up at you with those precious puppy dog eyes but genuinely asking. 

“Mhm.” you whine as he pulls down your shorts underneath your ass, off your legs, and onto the floor with your shirt. He places a kiss on your pelvic bone before looking up at you again with those beautiful dark blue eyes, looking for more confirmation, how much could he possibly need. You nod nonetheless and he licks a stripe up your folds, slowing down as he reaches your growth and you let out a soft whimper. You see him smile before going whole hog and taking your clit into his mouth, sucking vigorously. Your head hits the pillow as you moan out loudly before slapping your palm to your lips in an effort to stifle it. 

“Mm-mm, no, honey… I wanna hear you.” Dick whispers, pulling away from your core making you whine into your palm again before he reaches up toward you and pulls your hand away by your wrist before going back down on you. 

He pushes your thighs apart, massaging them as well while he slides his tongue into your leaking hole. You gasp at the sudden stretching and clench down on his tongue. He curls up and hits a certain spot which makes you all the more loud, he responds with a moan of his own, vibrating into your core. He takes his tongue back out to lick fast circles on your hardened growth and alternate with sucking. His actions are fast and spirited, making your inner thighs shake as your eyes roll back. A familiar heat growing in the depths of your abdomen, your hand snaps to the back of Dick’s head, pushing him down then pulling on his hair. His eyes look up and land on you, making eye contact as he lifts his hand to find yours, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing three times. That pushed you over the edge. 

You had been mercilessly pining for Dick for ages now and the lewd acts were almost too much let alone him basically telling you he loves you. You just nearly scream out his name as you fall over the cliff of your climax, squirming under his mouth and his muscular arms resting on your thighs. 

“‘Atta boy…” He whispers against the skin of your inner thighs, leaving open mouthed kisses along them along with some bruising ones. “You really have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this.” he nuzzles into the crook of your leg, breathing in your scent as you play gently with his hair. All you can do in your post orgasm haze is hum in acknowledgement. 

With a singular kiss on your thigh, Dick sits up between them and starts to pull the hem of his shirt over his head. You had almost forgotten that he had been fully clothed the whole time you had been completely naked. His abs flexing as the collar of his shirt comes over his head and his biceps relaxing as he brings his arms back down. He tosses it gently onto the floor beside the bed and you take this time to admire his physique. 

You try to sit up to touch his bare chest but he pushes you back down, shoving your shoulder so you fall back bouncing onto the bed. He kisses your collarbone, leaving more maroon bruises on your skin as you tug at the hair on the nape of his neck and planting a kiss on the top of his head. You can feel Dick rutting into your thigh as he massacres your collarbone, whimpering softly. 

“Dick…” you whisper, “I need you. I need to feel you inside me, please .” 

“Oh, I was planning on it.” He says with a smug smile looking up at you. 

He sits back up, slides off the bed, and pulls off his sweats and boxers, you watch his cock spring free and slap his lower abdomen gently which makes you clench. He pumps his dick a few times before coming back onto the bed. You lock eyes with him and he sends you a genuine smile before spreading your legs again. He lets some spit fall onto his hand then coats his head with it before lining up with your entrance, swiping a line up your wet folds. He tilts his head as he does so and smiles again before looking back at you and pushing in slowly. He wants to make sure you feel every bit of this. 

He lets out a deep exhale as he bottoms out, gently. You stretch out your arms, reaching for his skin and touching his waist slowly massaging the flesh. Your hands travel along his body as he starts to move inside you, cock jumping ever so slightly but enough that you could feel it deep inside your guts. The stretch was so perfect, not nearly enough to hurt but just so that you could feel it pushing at your walls. 

“Hm, look at you… taking my cock so well.” he whispers almost to himself with his head still tilted, looking at your cunt. His fingers start to dance on your clit, toying at it and smiling another time because you just can’t stop clenching on his dick. 

He quickens his pace, balls now slapping against your flesh and moans being thrown around the room carelessly. He falls forward, catching himself with an arm right beside your head, his other hand palming at your sides, holding you steady. Your fingers now wandering along his back and arms, gripping desperately to anything you could get your hands on. 

His hand reaches your jawline and he looks right into your eyes before taking your lips into his, sliding his tongue past them and mingling with yours. He moans tenderly against your mouth as he relentlessly pounds into your cervix. With a wet pop, he breaks the kiss, panting heavily against your skin before he sits back up. He presses his palm down onto the flesh right above your pelvic bone. 

“Oh, fuck .” he whines, apparently the action had given you both an intense sensation, the pressure was immaculate and he just went slightly faster, pounding into spots of your walls you didn’t know could be pleasured or even reached for that matter. “Oh god, I’m gonna cum, shit-” 

“Don’t you dare pull out- OH FUCK.” The comment had made Dick’s cock twitch, sending him over the edge, spilling into you. The white rivers of cum pouring into your canal, ebbing and flowing, painting your insides white, leaking out onto the sides of his dick. Now he might be sensitive but he’s not stopping until you cum on his cock. He keeps pounding until you’re a shaking mess, moaning his name. 

“Such a good boy, cumming for me… clenching around my cock, so sweet.”

His thrusts slowly come to a halt, delicately pulling out and watching as his cum pours out of your hole. He dips his fingers into the mess and brings them to his lips, licking the cum off of them just like he had done in the middle of the night except this time you could see his mouth and he was looking right at you. The lewd act makes you whine before he bends down to your cunt again and lapps up his and your own juices from your leaking hole. He flattens his tongue and licks all the way up your core, tasting all of you before focusing more on your clit, sucking and circling with his tongue. 

After a couple of moments, he slides a finger into your hole, curling up and hitting your sensitive g-spot. He pumps this finger for a while while still sucking and bobbing his head ever so slightly before adding another finger and curling them repeatedly and with vigour. Your sensitivity causes you to gasp at the sudden intense pleasure, moaning Dick’s name and pulling at his hair. An unfamiliar sensation arises in your core, a sort of pressure and your stomach tightening. Before you knew it, there was a waterfall of clear liquid gushing up from your cunt, falling onto the bed and you. Dick looked at you in awe with a disbelieving smile and a little chuckle, completely soaked as well by your orgasm. 

“Fuck, I’ve never done that before… my god, you’re soaked.” You say, sitting up and brushing his hair out of his face before pulling him in for a kiss. 

“I’m just glad to know I make you feel good.” 

“Spectacular, even-” you’re cut off by your alarm going off meant to wake you up so you can set up the surveillance equipment. “Shit, we still have a perp to catch. Wanna come help me set up then maybe we can go out so they can change the sheets.” 

“What a great idea, maybe we should shower first, no? I’m kinda soaked already.” 

“Sounds good to me.”

[thatweirdovision]

So, saw an au by @anonymouscheeses and just HAD to draw one of the design! More on the sketchier side as I felt like it fit it more! I hope ya like this and do be expectin’ more. I adore horror and angst aus very much. <3

[crsssie]

not every moment, but every day

word count: 7k

summary: you bloom a fairy with dandelion hair and peridot eyes

Pixie dust comes in small quantities at once.

You would argue for more, but there isn't much left for the common folk after the royals take everything for themselves. You work with what you can to fix what you can, and people tend to stay away from the sketchier areas of the city— your shop included. It's nice to be able to make just enough profit to live. Perhaps it was a stroke of luck, perhaps it was fate, but when you fix small things for curious children on the street for a flower or cookie, everything is worth it.

You do not care for bigger matters, and you do not care for an excess of anything.

To live in moderation... is sufficient.

You spend your day dealing with plants and machinery, making a living off of what you can, a little bit of this and a little bit of that keeping your day to day amusing. To live is to be happy, you find. You cannot be happy until you truly live. Perhaps two sides of the same coin? You do not find that you care all that much. You are content with what you have, white lilies blooming outside on your flowerbed, magic tinkering with older toys that are out of production, the slow life of the slums sliding by in your day to day life. You are content with where you are, and you shall continue living like this until you are old and wrinkly and can no longer move. Then, you shall return to the dirt your precious lilies adore so much.

You fix the toy in the child's hand while at the market, lips curled into a sweet smile as he beams.

"Have you brought something as payment?"

"This!" The child, surprisingly, holds up a potted white lily, bulb slightly fuller than the ones you regularly tend to, and you take it from him. "I saw the lilies outside of your place, and my older brother had this lying around in his room, so I thought I'd give it to you."

You blink, raising a brow in amusement, laughing. "Will he be mad you gave it away?"

"He was doing a terrible job at raising it, so I would say it's better with you." The kid shrugs. "Don't tell him, though. He's been missing for a while..."

"Ah." You mumble. It wasn't uncommon for the men in the slums to go missing. It was even more common for women to disappear overnight. The slave trade was especially prominent in the slums. One wrong move could result in a whole family disappearing overnight. You wonder if that was what happened to the old owner of the store. Well, it doesn't matter all that much. It's thanks to their disappearance that you managed to find a place to stay in the slums rather than the capital. Though... as you put the plant down on the first floor, sprinkling the fairy dust onto the flower with some water, and you watch as the plant shudders, reacting to it.

"You don't like it?" You tilt your head. Pause. Why is the plant reacting to the fairy dust so visibly.

The flower doesn't respond, so you set it by the window, shutting the blinds to the first floor as you head upstairs to fall asleep.

Maybe you're just tired.

You are not.

You wake up the next morning and feed your flowers, pausing when you notice the new flower is even bigger, and you tilt your head, sprinkling more pixie dust onto it as it reacts again, and you blink at it again, sighing. It is not your problem. You don't care. Not enough, at least. You water the flower, finish with the rest, and go back to your day to day routine. You are content with this life. You are happy with fixing old toys and watering the leftover lilies in the abandoned residence you took over, and that is all you will be doing. There will be nothing else to break your day to day schedule, not even some sentient flower that hisses at you each time you feed it fairy dust. At least the other flowers don't react.

The addition of the new plant is interesting to you. The child who gave it to you eventually is taken away by the slave traders— something that you have found no longer matters to you. They will eventually end up back in your household anyway. At the very least, you hope the child reunites with his brother. Instead, the young girl staying with the two of them bids you goodbye as she is adopted away, and you stare at the noble family that has adopted her. May she find peace, you whisper to yourself. The other children start visiting less, and you assume it is because your mentor will soon be making his return and visiting.

So, you water the new plant, ditching the regular pixie dust and settling for the pink one instead, finding that your particularly picky unbloomed flower prefers it to the regular one. Picky asshole. Yet, you whistle and look the other way as you water it, making rounds down to the orphanages for broken toys and replace them with fixed ones, the children treating you to a portion of their meals, making you laugh. You tell them you do not need their food, handing them each their own treat instead, leaving early and returning home, your continuously growing flower and garden of white lilies greeting you. It is a sight that you are fond of.

It falls into a pattern until it suddenly does not.

Your mentor visit first, observing the flowers and the particularly large one on your windowsill but not mentioning anything, as mysterious as he always has been. He leaves you with some more pixie dust and enough coins to survive, and he is gone with the wind again. You find that you will never quite understand the lives of nobles despite being of their blood yourself. You will never understand why there is a hunger for more and more until they have nothing left, and why they would crave so much. Though, it does not bother you. You are content with your life and the repetition you have brought into your schedule.

You are content with it until it is broken.

You wake up one morning to a blossomed lily and a small fairy sitting by your windowsill and staring at the white lilies, and you do a double take.

Clean daffodil hair and peridot eyes. Glass butterfly wings with a rainbow reflection. Small in stature yet a charming gaze. You peer down at your little visitor and then at the lily that has finally bloomed, and you reach for a small peridot in your pocket, tilting your head as you hold it out to him as an offering. He cranes his neck to the side, not accepting your stone, and you rummage for another one. It is not uncommon for you to meet fairies, and most require a sort of greeting gift, so you find it surprising that a fairy would not take a stone that matches their eyes. You find an opal instead, holding it out for the fairy as he inspects it and accepts the gift, flying right before your eyes to inspect you.

"Hi?" You lean slightly back as he flutters forward.

He blinks twice.

"Ah, you're the nonverbal kind." You hum, taking a step back as you bow lightly. "Were you stuck in the flower?"

The fairy nods.

"Will you be staying?"

He nods again.

"Then I look forward to making your acquaintance." You bow again.

The sound of gentle wind chimes indicate the fairy's mutual agreement.

You forget some days this is the same asshole who shuddered at regular pixie dust. He helps around the place, sprinkling his own pixie dust onto the white lilies and finding fallen screws on the ground for you, almost always holding his hand out for a small treat after, something you've stocked up on. You find it strange that he does not feed on nectar the same way the other fairies do, but you don't complain when he helps around the house. He knows every nook and cranny as though he had been born for the place, and you find that he is equally helpful. He's giving you a lot less attitude now. Perhaps the hardest part was simply helping him bloom.

He sits by you when you have your dinner, popping the bubbles that manage to flutter into the air when you do the dishes, sitting by your bedside and helping you blow out the candles when it is time for you to rest. Sometimes, you find that he manages to open the windows for you in the morning. You wonder just how much strength a fairy can have, but you refuse to question it. Ignorance is bliss to a certain degree, and you are plenty content with knowing barely anything about your small friend. If he does not reveal it, then you can live without knowing.

You bring the fairy with you out to the market after a handful of weeks, letting the small thing pick out any new plants to add to his collection (which you find strange considering he can only help sprinkle pixie dust), but he picks out succulents instead, flowers that require minimal water. You find that he's still quite picky, having you only water the plants a certain amount each day, and you make him a small watering can of his own so he can do whatever he wills with it. (It does not help. He still pulls on your sleeve to have you water the plants instead of him. Annoying.) Though, as annoying as you find it at times, he is an overall pleasant person to have around.

You learn that he's particularly inclined for treats, always asking for a bite of your food, even if it means sticking one of his fingers into your bowl and licking it. He does not do well with spice, so you put aside a small bowl for him before you add anything, and he digests it while you continue cooking, flavors mixed into your food. He prefers sugar, so you make sure to triple lock the sugar jar, finding that it's always opened in the morning anyway (seriously. where is he getting the strength) and you try to scold him, but you can't resist the way he pouts at you, closing your eyes as you groan and continue to scold him. Curse him and his squishy cheeks.

"Really!" You sigh. "Stop breaking into the sugar jar!"

The fairy pouts at you, looking down and kicking dejectedly.

"Seriously. You're going to pass away from an overconsumption. How are you not going to eat nectar and only consume candy and then try to have even more?!"

The sound of wind indicates his annoyance.

"No."

He looks up at you from the table, folding his arms.

"Still no. I don't want you to pass away. How does a fairy diet even work?"

The fairy points at the sugar jar.

"No." You point at him. "No more."

You swear you hear him 'hmph' at you.

You find that you still don't know the fairy's name, and you no longer remember if it was because their names held power or this particular fairy was just out to make you struggle as much as you can to communicate with him. Maybe he just enjoys watching you not look him in the eye when he's being scolded. He's annoying (you tell yourself).

Though, when the children start visiting again, you find that your small friend sits on your head or shoulder, peering down curiously at the children who trade you old toys for fixed ones, eyes big as they ask who the small creature on your shoulder is. When you tell them it's a fairy, they almost always ask if they can touch him. The creature hides further behind you when they ask, and you shake your head no. You tell them another time, but knowing the fairy, he's never going to let them touch him. You find that not even you are allowed to touch the small thing and that he flies away almost always, wings tinted a peachy pink as you imitate the pout he likes giving you.

You wonder if he just hates you.

Though, you find that it's only with you. After a while, he warms up to the children, going as far as to flying above them and letting the gentler ones hold him, and you scoff. Maybe he just hates you. You try to grab him when one of the kids reach for his wings, and he flinches away from you, wings turning pink again. You gape at him in offense, letting him suffer as the child brushes over his wings, squeaks squeezing past his lips as he struggles to get back to you with a panicked look on his face.

"Will you let me touch you?" You hold your hand out, freeing his wings from the sticky hands, and the fairy sits in your hair with a whine, terrified of the children he had wanted to play with.

"Aw." The boy frowns. "Does he not like me?"

"Try not to touch his wings next time." You hum, handing the fixed toy to him. "How are the others?"

"The mister is letting us roam again since the master is out of the land again." The boy hands you a small bag. "I stole that from the headmaster's room."

You blink as you open it, pausing at the blue pixie dust that sparkles in the bag. "Blue pixie dust? You'll get whipped if he finds out."

"It's fine. They found a noble family to adopt me into." The boy blinks. "Will you let me write you letters?"

"Of course." You hum. "If anything arises—"

"I will let the master know." He hums. "Will I see you again, then?"

"No promises." You hum. "It would be hard to make promises."

The boy nods. "Bye bye, mister fairy!"

The creature in your hair waves goodbye, wind chimes sounding.

You lost another one. When winter falls, the children stop visiting altogether, and you watch as your lilies wilt and fall asleep for the time, watching as your fairy shivers and sticks close to your skin, even while you cook, wings sparkling on the back of your neck as you pour him a small bowl of soup to enjoy and maybe warm up with— only to fail. He crawls into your sleeve with a frown, peeking his head out as you tap his forehead twice.

"Cold?"

He nods.

"Can't afford heating, sorry—"

You hear him kick in your sleeve in complaint, but you don't address it.

And you fall into a steady day to day rhythm again. You wake up, feed two mouths (one tiny one normal) and sit in your workshop fiddling with the toys, holding up the new batch of gems that your master has sent you to the light for inspection. You do not understand it, but you do it anyway, leaving out a smaller one for the fairy to play with. You wonder if you still need to buy his favor in order to be able to touch him. Besides, would it make sense? Perhaps your little guest is waiting for spring to arrive since he had bloomed during summer. Perhaps he will leave then.

He does not.

When spring arrives, you wake up to a naked man in your bed and scream. You fall off your bed with widened eyes, hands flying to your chest to check if you still have clothes on, reaching for the knife on your nightstand as you stare at the fairy.

"I am... safe." He nods slowly, holding both of his hands up.

"How did you get in?!" You shake slightly.

He tilts his head, and you stop when you hear the wind chime.

No. No fucking way.

He smiles.

ASSHOLE. ITS THE FAIRY.

"Oh, hell no." You throw the knife to the side and throw a pillow at him. "How did you grow. Is this a sign? Is it because it's spring? You fairies better not have mating seasons. I'm kicking you out if you do."

He blinks at you, eyes wide, innocently.

"Yes or no?"

He shakes his head.

You relax only then, groaning as the birds chirp outside of the open window. You can worry about groceries later, but for the time being... your eyes trail to the man's abdomen, falling lower and lower until you realize that you definitely need to go out today because other than the fact that his fairy clothes have sized up slightly, the skirt made of leaves definitely does not help him cover anything. You'd have to keep your windows closed for the day. Some poor rich woman might catch the way his body is built and ask to buy him from you or something. The thought alone makes you shudder.

"Stay put." You point at him and then at the bed, and you shut the windows, close the blinds, light a candle, and lock him in your bedroom. Well, it could be worse. You buy what you can for him, a pair of shoes, some semblance of clothing (two sets so he has something to change into) and some more food because... you're feeding two mouthes now. Seriously. You better get paid soon because if that stupid duke of the land doesn't come back. Well, calling your mentor would be a little... rude. The land is his in name yours in legality. Though, considering the two of you are both immortal, it matters very little in reality. As long as the land is prosperous, you do not care.

Your mother died of heartbreak, your father died of mortality, leaving you with your mother's curse of immortality.

You don't know what to make of it, and you no longer care for it.

You return home with the clothes, handing them to the man (fairy? human? creature? humanoid?) to change into, to which he obeys, turning around to change. You wonder if he'll be good at anything or if he's just going to cause problems around like he did when he was a fairy well, cause problems is an overstatement. You wonder if he's going to be a picky eater again. Perhaps he'll lounge around— you're practically praying for him to keep his household habits from when he was a fairy now. Maybe you will have some strange stroke of luck.

And strange stroke of luck you have— the man helps around the house, waking before you, watering your lilies and making breakfast, sitting at the floor of your bed, head tilted as he bats his lashes at you when you wake up, scaring you half the time and worrying you the other. You find it oddly domestic of him. A man whom you do not know the name of, a fairy who bloomed from the flower stolen by a young boy, some... dude who you've just been living with. You really wonder if he has a name, but from the looks of it, he doesn't seem to be able to... speak? You wonder if he could write, but he hasn't tried communicating to you that way either. Instead, he pulls on your sleeve and gives you the most innocent bat of his lashes, and seems to telepathically tell you what he needs. You wonder if you just picked up on his body language from when he was a fairy with how you seem to know everything he needs or wants.

You still choose to ignore him when he blinks at your with stars in his eyes for more candy while shopping for food. He may come off as perfect to many, but you find that the vast majority of it comes from a facade. You squint your eyes at him, pointing at him as one would with a disobedient puppy. "No," you tell him, and he puffs his cheeks and pouts at you (something that hasn't changed from when he was a fairy) and continue following after you as you bargain over the food. He remains with a slight frown for the rest of the day, and he won't feel better until after sleep. You pick up on that equally quickly. You find that he just likes pretending to be perfect— something you are visibly not. You don't know how many times you've accidentally broken a plate when he crept up on you as a fairy.

Yet, you get used to him too, finding that it's nice to have a random dude who does the chores and cooks around, and you quickly find out why the nobles like slouching around and shopping all day. It's the boredom. So, you kick the guy out of cleaning the place and watering the flowers, and the poor man stares at you like a kicked puppy— as if he's done something wrong for trying to pamper you. You try and explain that it's because you need to do something around the cottage or else you'll end up bored out of your mind and insane. He doesn't get it, but he lets you water the flowers at the very least. You also get to do the grocery shopping still. He may not be picky anymore, but you find that he seems to add things you do not even remember buying into your food.

"No red peppers." You point at him. "No."

He blinks at you.

Some days, you really want to strangle him for weaponizing his incompetence. Though, as you chide him for trying to sneak peppers into your basket, you find that he might just really like eating peppers. No. There was no way. This was the same fairy who was huffing when you added just a bit of wasabi into your food. You squint at him, and he puts it back, smiling apologetically to the sweet old woman who gushes over his face. You wonder how far that face card could get him. You wonder if you could get the approval of your mentor... he would probably just kick him out, though. The thought almost makes you laugh.

Though, when the man is shoved a bouquet of flowers into his arms by some passerby girl, you can only pull your lips up in amusement. He blinks in confusion as the girl runs back to her friends, and he takes a step back, hiding behind you (still visible, much different from when he was a fairy), and you stifle laugh. He takes your hand quietly, bottom lip jutted slightly out the whole walk back, staring at the flowers and then at you, holding them out for you to take. "for me?"

He nods.

You tell him to find a nice vase to set the flowers in while you prep dinner. He listens, cutting the stems of the flower and pouting. You do not know what he is thinking. He's too vague— and his expression tells you that he's annoyed, but you really cannot tell over what. He stays slightly dejected for the whole night through, sitting by your bed with a frown on his face, and it almost makes you feel bad. Almost. You ask him what can make him feel better, and you watch as he reaches for your hand, staring at you the whole time for any discomfort. You blink as he rests his head on the edge of your bed, content with just holding your hand for the time being... where did he get so sly?

The answer to your question is that he's always been sly.

You crack open your door for your mentor to enter as he visits, handing you the funds for the year, showing you the files and funds and papers and scrolls and documents and... the list goes on. You locked the fairy in your room— you don't know what your mentor would do if he were to find out you were living with a man. You're pretty sure he would get kicked out. So, you try to rush your mentor out as quickly as possible, sighing when he finally gets up and ready to leave, and lo and behold— the fairy decides to make his descent down the stairs.

"I just heard footsteps."

"You must be mishearing."

"I'm afraid not."

You watch as your roommate (roommate?) steps up to your mentor, nodding as they shake hands.

"Pleasure to meet you. Your name?"

You open your mouth to make one up on the spot, and you physically pause when the man speaks.

"Don't worry about it." He smiles all friendly (with an underlying passive aggressiveness that only one might have when meeting someone they dislike) shaking his hand. "You are?"

"I am... their mentor." He nods. "So the two of you are?"

"—"

You cut him off. "Roommates! I picked him up off the street."

"You picked a random man off the streets?" Your mentor raises a brow. "Couldn't he have stayed somewhere else other than your place?"

"Well..." You lower your voice and pull your lips to his ear. "He's kinda... hot."

"He looks like a pathetic mess." Your mentor stares right into your 'roommate's' eyes, and he stares back, uncanny smile on his face. "Call me if you need me."

"You'll let him stay?!"

"I fear that if I do not let you have your way, you will simply force me out of the territory." He shrugs. "Clear the attic for him. Do not let him stay in your room, understand?"

You mock a salute at him as he shuts the door with a snap of his hands. The man is expecting you to beam at him, but as soon as you turn around, you tilt your head to the side, jabbing your finger into his chest as you press him against the table.

"So. You've known how to speak this whole time, hm? You've just been watching me read your expressions to see what you were feeling when you could have spoken the whole time? Is that how you pay your precious gardener back?"

"I really—"

Holy fuck his voice sounds like heaven.

"No." You hold your hand up to silence him, grumbling as you take a step back. "You're cooking dinner tonight and I am eating it in my room withoutyou because you've been a rude ass and deceiving me this whole time."

You watch as his expression falls. "I—"

"If you cook good enough I might forgive you."

He cooks. You find dinner set outside your door with a knock after he finishes, and you catch him peeking at you from the bottom of the stairs as you bring it into your room. You really wonder just why this fairy is so obsessed with you, but when you get a spoonful of his soup you don't mind, really. The man was good at cooking. What else could you say? You leave the finished dish outside, bringing it down to do the dishes, and you watch as he lights up from the dinner table.

"Was it good?"

"You're forgiven." You grumble, physically holding yourself back from melting over his voice. "But only if you tell me just why the hell you didn't tell me you could speak. Also, what the hell is your name?!"

He fiddles with his fingers, blinking at you. "I'm Alkaid... and I was worried you'd be creeped out by my voice if you just woke up one day and your fairy companion was both human-sized and could speak."

You blink at him wordlessly. "That's it? Wait— that came out rude. I would not think that, but I'm glad we're over that hurdle now. Can I get an omelette for breakfast tomorrow? I can get the eggs."

"I'll get the eggs." He smiles. "No red peppers?"

You shake your head.

"Okay." And you watch as the moon glistens behind him.

Alkaid is a sweetheart. Well, he had been one, but you find that he's especially gentler now, communicating with you over simple things, and knocking on your door in the morning before waking you up. You wonder if the language put a barrier between the two of you, but you don't find it in yourself to ask— especially not when he seems to know your habits just as you know his. He's always one step ahead of you. Whether that be preparing your clothes in advance or knowing what foods you're craving, he seems to know everything. You find it a little off putting at times, but you also find that it's lovely to be known. You wonder how many girls would kill to be in your position at the moment.

"Shall we head to the market tomorrow?" He tilts his head at you. "We are almost out of food."

"Already?" You blink at him. Surely he has some other intention.

"They are hosting a festival tomorrow... as well." He smiles. "Let us go together."

"Alright."

Ah. That was what it was.

You find that Alkaid has been buying clothes behind your back, the man in matching clothes with you as you descend the stairs and take his hand, holding his hand as he takes you through the stalls. He stops for candied strawberries and street style foods, taking it from you if you dislike it. He eats everything, and you refrain for ordering anything spicy in result of that. Your fairy does not like it, and you fear that you will not like it, so you settle for nothing too hot. Though, you're sure that the girls who have been peering at Alkaid the whole night would argue that you are settling for something very hot. Well, settle would be the wrong word. Is it really settling if you aren't dating?

You wonder what Alkaid makes of the whole situation.

"Is it good?" He tilts his head, opening his mouth as you give him a bite.

"It is." You nod, tilting your head back at him.

"I agree." He hums. "Shall I try to replicate this at home?"

"You're that skilled of a cook?" You raise a brow at him.

"Always." He smiles, tilting his head. "Yes?"

"...as long as you don't burn the kitchen down." You mumble.

Alkaid squeezes your hand in affirmation. You spend the rest of the night with your fingers laced between his, palm pressed flush against his, lips curled into an unconsciously sweet smile as the two of you watch the fireworks. He rests his head on your shoulder, eyes glued to the stars as he tells you the tales behind them. You listen, following his hand as you point with him, at some point the fireworks stopping and the stars being more visible to the two of you. You do not catch him staring at you, too focused on the way his voice carries through the air, and the two of you stay that way until the early hours of the morning, moving from standing on pavement to sitting on bricks, moving from sitting on bricks to laying on grass, hands never let go of.

It is beautiful, you think. He is beautiful, to you.

You wonder what you are to Alkaid. It is less of a haunting feeling and more of an innocent curiosity. Who are you to this fairy that he would willingly stay by your side and please you? Is he this way with everyone? You wonder if he would have been the same with someone else. You blink at him from the table, tilting your head as he places the bowl before you.

"What is wrong?"

You blink at him slowly. "I wonder what we are."

"You are my companion, are you not?"

(The word companion stings, but you do not know why.)

"I understand." You nod slowly.

"Why so?"

"I was curious." You smile. "I will start in the workshop again next week."

"Was there a need?"

"I am making the fireworks for the summer festival." You pause when he blinks at you. "The flowers in the sky — I am creating the ones for the summer festival."

He nods. "Is it dangerous?"

"As long as no fire gets close to it. Though, I will need to pay my mentor a visit for some more pixie dust. Perhaps I will—"

"I can provide." Alkaid swallows slowly, hand flying to cover yours on the table as you blink at him. "I will... I can provide."

"You have a source?"

"No. My wings drop pixie dust when I am small." He pauses. "How much do you need?"

"I will let you know once I get started." You smile. "Are you worried I will not come back?"

Alkaid does not answer you.

It is more than that — to him. He fears something more— that whatever force had created him and cursed him to become who he is would get its hands on you, force you to become something that he is. He wonders, and he fears, and so many more things because he would not know what to do if you are to become like him. He must protect you, perhaps. But how is he to balance protection with the ability to let you do as you will? He wonders. He wonders often.

You blink at Alkaid as he crouched by your bed, blinking your drowsiness away.

"Good morning." He smiles, and you watch as the sun peeks out from behind the curtains to light up his hair.

"Good morning." You smile back, chest warm.

Alkaid enjoys your presence more than anything— he finds. You are pretty and delicate, fingers working fast on fixing toys and making fireworks, gunpowder and pixie dust slid into the fireworks gently and carefully, eyes glued to the mechanics of everything as Alkaid cleans up your place. You are pretty, pretty like the lilies in your flowerbed, pretty like the clouds in the sky that the sun plays peekaboo with. You are pretty, and his heart knows it well, skipping a beat as you move, racing as you smile at him. The sun is nothing without its clouds. He wants to pry your fingers from your embarrassed face the same way the sun does to its clouds to catch a glimpse of you.

You are a star.

"Is something on my face?" You tilt your head, and he reaches over, wiping the smudge of pixie dust on your cheek. He watches, eyes fond as you close one eye out of reflex, smiling.

"Not anymore, starlight."

Alkaid sleeps later than you. He shuts your door behind him when he finishes making sure you're rested, and he sits in the attic, pushing the window open as the night breeze rustles his hair. He wonders sometimes if you had ever wished on a star. It would have been sweet, but he supposes it's not really something he should concern himself with. He will outlive you, and he will be alone without someone again. He wonders how much longer he will have to live before you are gone. Perhaps he will name a star after you. At the very least, he would be granted such. Perhaps he should search for your soul again since you had been so kind as to bloom him. Then, he will stay with you until it is his time to pass.

He wonders if you the two of you live like this in another life.

Though, he needs his rest too, so he shuts the window, eyes closing as he falls asleep in the warmth of his bed, pretending you are there with him.

You wonder some days if Alkaid wants to explore. Fairies are naturally free creatures, and you find it surprising that he has managed to stay so close to you for such a long time. Perhaps there is something of his that you are still holding on to. Perhaps you should ask him after the fireworks. Perhaps you are holding him back from being who he really is. So, as he shuts the door behind him after you pretend to sleep, you stare at the wood for a little too long, pondering if he would have been free in another universe. You are just weak, you find.

You don't attend the summer festival, settling for sitting out on the roof with Alkaid instead, blinking at the summer shower and the way the rockets still splatter in the sky, quieter than usual because of the rain. You wonder if you were tasked with making them because yours were resistant to the water. Alkaid hands you a sandwich from the picnic basket he had prepared, and the two of you watch from the covered patio.

"Alkaid." You hum.

"Yes?"

"Do you long to be free?"

Alkaid stares at you, closing his eyes as he shakes his head. "I am happy where I am."

You stare at him, heart churning uncomfortably in your chest as he lies to you.

"I am sorry." He senses the uncomfortableness you radiate immediately.

"No." You shake your head. "I just assumed that we were close. It is my fault."

"It is not." Alkaid reaches over for your hand as you pull it back. "star—"

"It's fine." You smile at him. "I am sorry."

"No." He tries to fix it, heart shaking in his chest, ears ringing as he tries to explain, chain of jumbled words breaking past his lips as it seems to make it worse, reaching for you again as you take a step back, and he watches as the stars in the night seem to reveal themselves after the rain clears, storm in his chest from hurting you, panic flushed through his system as the door to his room separates the two of you, his heart crumbling in his chest. Perhaps you are right.

"I... am planning on travelling soon." Alkaid smiles almost apologetically, bitterness visible on his face as you slow in your eating.

"When will that be?"

"Perhaps in a week or so." He nods. "Do take care of yourself while I am gone."

You nod.

The house is emptier without Alkaid around. You send him off from your door, handing him a safety device that you are sure he will not need, sending him off with good wishes despite the rift between the two of you. You do not know if you will see him again. You wonder if you ever will. Though, that is not your problem. It was a good time to visit everyone that had been sold to the slave market and bought again. You have had enough time playing around. It is time you return to where you are supposed to be.

You leave an empty home, white lilies wilted on the streets.

You do not return.

You busy yourself with the affairs of the land, returning Cael to his role as an aide, thanking him for taking over during the years you wanted to rest, and the two of you work for the land, your age stuck in time, Cael's age frozen next to you. You wonder if anyone questions how you have lived for so long, but you do not care. The immortals have been in power for longer than you can remember, and your father had been the exception to your noble bloodline, and it made you sick. Your mother did of heartbreak. You understand, but you find that you are not as weak as your mother was— weak is the wrong word, you find. You are not as in love as your mother was. Perhaps you had been foolish to think that you had been in love.

"Stop being a drag." Your mentor sighs, rolling his eyes as he slides you an invitation. "It's the century masquerade."

"I am not a century..." You pause. "Wow. I'm old as fuck."

"Language."

You stare at the invitation, blinking slowly.

"If you're still stuck over that roommate of yours," The man sighs. "Perhaps he will be there as well. Fairies are invited."

"Do they locate us by blood?"

"Only those who are over a century old are able to access the royal palace. You will see him again."

"How do you know that? I left him."

"He left you first."

You can't help the groan that breaks past your lips.

Yet, you are dolled up and escorted to the dance anyway, mask slipped on your face as you step foot into the ballroom, the lights too much for your eyes, heart souring at the daffodils on display and green, finding that you had been given a different dress code for some reason, but fitting in, stardust scattered on your golden gown, taking your mentor's hand as the two of you blend into the rest of the crowd, dancing as you are passed around to change partners. You wonder when you will get to stop. Though, everyone who is over a hundred is well energized. You wonder if any of these men and women pass away.

"Lonely?"

You glance at your dance partner. "No."

"You are sure?"

You nod.

"It is a shame." He swings you out of the way of your next partner, humming. "I have missed you, starlight."

You shrink back slightly to look at him, blinking owlishly as you notice the daffodil hair and peridot eyes. He smiles at you, pressing your knuckles to his lips as he smiles at you. You let him pull you off the dance floor to retreat to a balcony, rain thumping gently outside as he offers you a drink, cheeks warm as he smiles slightly over reuniting with you.

You blink slowly at him, head tilted as he opens his mouth to speak.

"I apologize." He swallows, smile bitter. "I lied to you, and I—"

"No." You blink. "It was my fault. I apologize for overreacting."

"No." Alkaid takes a step closer to you. "No. I should not have lied. I was happy with you back then, but I did not wish to hurt you by telling you I thought about exploring. It was my fault. Do forgive me for it."

"But—"

"Accept it." He hums. "May we... start over?"

"I'm... Alkaid." He smiles, bowing.

Your name comes next, and Alkaid presses your knuckles to his lips again, humming.

"May I have the honor of courting you?"

"Yes." You breathe. "Always."

Alkaid turns your hand over to press a small stone into your hand.

An opal.

"Thank you, starlight."

[hotbellepepaz]

ok so… was on the bus today…all of a sudden…

POP NEW AU IDEA BETTER JOT THIS DOWN BEFORE IT LEAVES ME AAA-

presenting

da Inside out journalism/undercover au???

In this AU, Disgust and Envy are the stars of the show! They’re an aspiring journalist duo who hope they can get their big break with a hit story. Alongside their partner Anxiety, they have their watchful eyes on a criminal group, The Rainbow Renegades. Made up of 6 members, these guys are tough cookies to deal with, and so Disgust, Envy and Anxiety will have to use their smarts to get intel and bust these outlaws. However, the duo doesn’t know that they have a secret weapon that can help them bust the Renegades, but it won’t come out to them that easily…

Characters

Journalists

Disgust

The lead investigator. Loves dressing up and writing about gossip. She’s been doing it ever since high school. Runs a small newspaper/magazine with her sister Envy called HotGloss News. Having sewing and fashion design as a hobby, she uses this skill to her advantage and designs all sorts of disguises for the trio to use. Her biggest weakness? Bias.

Envy

Disgust’s little sister and partner. She aspires to be just like her sister when she grows up, and run her own newsletter! Despite only being 9 years old, she helps her sis in investigations and does it amazingly. I mean, nobody expects a child to be an undercover investigator! She has a blossoming friendship with Anxiety, and often wants to tag along with her when she goes out, even though she keeps insisting that she shouldn’t. Huh.

Anxiety

A friend of Disgust’s that took this job to aid the duo in getting intel. Also, it’s just fun to go undercover and spy on people. Anxiety says she’s also trying to escape something from weighing on her, but the “something” she mentions is unknown. She goes out often to run errands of her own, but always comes back out of breath, tired, and nervous. Sometimes she even seems to come back hurt in some way, which makes this habit sketchier. Little do Disgust and Envy know, she has something bigger hiding behind their back…

The Rainbow Renegades

Sunshine (Joy)

The leader of the Renegades. Always comes up with a devious plan to smash and grab. Her specialty being the “sunburst” in which she pulls out a gun and spins while pulling the trigger. Sounds cute, but it’s extremely deadly.

Flamethrower (Anger)

The Renegade best known for setting the ransacked place on fire. For some reason, it comes out of his head. (!?)

Greg (Fear)

Instead of having a super-cool alias like the other renegades, this guy just goes by “Greg”. But don’t let his vulnerable personality and look fool you, as he has strength at unbelievable levels.

Au_revoir46377 (Ennui)

The renegades’ in house hacker. Going by her online username, she finds places that got the goods they want, and locates them for the renegades to ransack. Also usually turns off all security cameras as well.

Smasher (Embarrassment)

On the same floor as Greg, but Smasher is a bit more shy to throw punches. He’d rather just take the stuff.

The most important character, out of all of them, is actually Anxiety, and for a special reason. Remember how I mentioned that she goes out fairly often, and comes back suspiciously exhausted every time? Well, that’s because she’s secretly part of the Rainbow Renegades.

Zap (Anxiety’s alter ego)

When Anxiety goes out to “run errands,” what she’s really saying is that she’s going to go meet up with her comrades, the Rainbow Renegades, and go break the law. Under the alias Zap, she is probably one of the greatest criminals the Renegades have ever had. She can pull off a heist that would usually take more than one person, all under one minute. In fact, Sunshine considers her the bestest friend and partner in crime she’s ever had! However, both sides don’t know about her identity on the other. Disgust and Envy don’t know about her criminal life as Zap. The Rainbow Renegades don’t know about her real and investigator life as Anxiety. Yet, she’s way too nervous to come out to both. She thinks she’ll either disappoint or enrage either of them. So for now, she’s just going to figure out how to live a double life.

dw guys the bakery au is still alive and well :> just gonna have my head on this one for a while… AND IM GONNA WRITE IT ON AO3-

[animentality]

tbh i think the "not all men are looking to ted bundy your ass" topic is something that deserves a lot more compassion and nuance than what you gave it in your post but I do see your point. i think women's terror towards men, their oppressors, and trans women's terror towards terfs and cis people, their oppressors, is something that is and always will need to be contended with in unison and can be true at the same time. a lot of care needs to be taken to genuinely and sincerely appreciate both forms of oppression in full. understanding and truly appreciating that someone who oppresses you is also, legitimately and deeply oppressed is not easy but it is necessary. transphobia and trans misogyny can never be dismantled by downplaying the true depths and extent of misogyny against other women in this world. i say all this in good faith. because i think you're mostly just venting and that's normal. but terfs are not the only women who are haunted by the crimes of men like bundy and that's something we have to make space for in our heart as women we really do

I mean a fair point, and I appreciate the nuance you've acknowledged here.

I'm not saying that a fear of men is some kind of ridiculous phobia with no rationality behind it.

I get it.

I also get nervous when I see rowdy guys in public or am alone with a man in a sketchier neighborhood or whatever. Patriarchal systems are something to be feared. There's a certain behavior that's encouraged in amabs that anyone else needs to be wary of, and react accordingly.

but yeah that post specifically was about the kinds of terfs who act like men are some hive mind of evil, whose entire being revolves around being sex predators. or that men can't be taught to be different.

these kinds of terfs will rant about how just having a penis makes you the enemy of humanity and they're so vicious and unkind when it comes to just, people in general.

humans are not inherently born good or evil. humans have impulses and natural instincts, but how we go about our business is a learned reaction. terfs act like biology and culture are the same thing.

and that's precisely why they're not feminists

they're the female, misandrist version of incels.

one side says, having a vagina makes you more irrational.

their side says having a penis makes you uncontrollable and sadistic.

the truth is, and always will be, more complex.

I was mostly objecting to the terfs who spend their days acting like every man they meet is some kind of demon.

[cult-of-the-eye]

@melandrops tma restaurant AU? (Coming from someone who knows next to nothing about how restaurants work lol)

Ok so the Magnus Institute is like a prestigious but controversial like Michelin Star restaurant with millions of fancy little courses

The controversy comes from the idea that each dish is tailored to target a person's traumatic and/or paranormal event and people have protested about the ethics but each protest has been magically made to go away so all that's left is rumours and people leaving with a vaguely unsettled feeling

Still gets good business though, just...interesting...customers

Hold on let me actually Google how restaurants work

Ok so after a quick Google I have come to the conclusion that Elias is the kitchen manager

He only comes out to criticise someone's plating and the only time there has ever been a record of him saying something nice is when someone was served cake

(it was from a patron with a Lonely themed children's birthday party where nobody came and the house turned to fog)

Gertrude was Head Chef but she died under mysterious circumstances and they found her body stuffed into an old freezer in the tunnels under the restaurant

Jon gets promoted to Head Chef, despite Sasha clearly having more experience and then Sasha, Tim and Martin make up the main kitchen crew

Jon is stressed because Gertrude left behind very complicated, messy instructions on how to create the menus for the patrons, so he's literally making it up as he goes along but somehow it always seems to work out

Tim is usually on side dishes, Sasha on mains and Martin on desserts but they swap when needed

Martin meets Jon when he accidentally lets a dog into the restaurant

Martin lied about his work experience in another prestigious restaurant and it's honestly been a miracle why he hasn't been fired yet

(maybe his years cooking for his mum did come in handy)

The fears all still exist, each dish is personally tailored to the fear the patron has been touched by and during the course of the meal, they're compelled to explain how the dish was relevant to that experience like they're in some sort of trance

Michael is still Michael (until he's Helen)

The Jane Prentiss incident still happens (Martin's out getting some of the more sketchier ingredients when he stumbled upon her, i guess it's just a lot scarier that the worms are gonna get the restaurant shut down and then why Elias isn't more worried about that prospect)

The Leitners could still exist with the patrons having brushes with them

Ooh maybe he gets brutally kitchen utensil murdered

Tim flirts with as many of the patrons he possibly can

Melanie was part of a rival restaurant chain that had gained popularity for apparently being haunted until she joins the Institute

Daisy and Basira are still detectives that investigate some of the ethical protests

Canon is pretty much followed as much as it can be

Jmart still happens. Obviously. You can really get up close and personal in a busy kitchen, especially when your chef keeps abandoning his work to bring you cups of water. (It's hot in a kitchen I'm guessing)

Yeah ok if I can think of any more I'll add them!

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Part 3!! I had a good time writing this chapter as well, and it’s another doozy. Hope you enjoy!

Pairings: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner ***slash

Warnings and tags: 18+ only please!! Adult themes including: very brief mention of past partner death, very brief mention of marriage problems, some crying, some insecurity, my sad attempt at flirting, very slight suggestive talk, dad Jake AU, uncle Danny

Word count: 5.5k

Mondays were hard for everybody, but this particular Monday seemed to be kicking Jake in the ass.

First he spilled coffee all over his pants so he had to change after already being a little behind on getting up and getting both himself and Luna ready. That made them end up at the back of the line for drop off at the elementary.

He was speeding over to the office after getting her to school. Normally it wouldn’t matter so much if he came in a little late, but someone had the bright idea of scheduling a meeting at nine am on a Monday and he still needed to go over a few things with his team before it started.

They had a big fundraiser coming up soon that he’d spent nearly six months preparing for. One of the local orchestras had offered to put on a concert and donate the ticket sales to the foundation. The event wasn’t going to be too big, but they had managed to secure a guest singer, a couple of soloist, and even a live band to agree to play afterwards while they had drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

Jake was excited about this particular fundraiser because the sales and any extra donations were going to go to giving students private music lessons, a program he’d been working on launching for quite a while now.

Though Jake had been working for the foundation for a few years already, this was the first project he’d put so much of himself into, feeling particularly strongly about the accessibility of musical education for children as a passionate musician with a child himself.

Even after his wife’s passing, Jake’s home was still filled with music to share with his daughter. His record collection specifically ranged anywhere from dusty old vinyls he had inherited from his parents house, to mint condition collectibles and limited editions he probably never would have found without his connections. His prized possessions however, were the first pressings of his and June’s album when it first came out.

The few copies they’d kept for themselves stayed tucked safely away on the corner of the highest shelf where they sat untouched since her passing, Jake still too tender to hear her voice again. Someday though he knew Luna would want to listen to them, and he only prayed he would have himself prepared enough by then.

By the time the meeting was over Jake decided to head back out for an early lunch. With the rush to get out the door this morning he hadn’t packed anything to eat so he decided to treat himself at his favorite restaurant- a spot he didn’t frequent too often since it was in what he considered to be a sketchier part of town.

Since it was just him he didn’t mind making the drive over, at least that was until his dashboard suddenly lit up with about three different warning lights. Of course he would be having car trouble today of all days.

With an annoyed huff Jake pulled over to the side of the road, leaving his car running because he was too scared that if he turned it off now he wouldn’t be able to get it back on. Being a little unfamiliar with his surroundings he pulled out his phone and googled where the nearest service shop was, finding one simply called Rudy’s Custom Auto just up the road he’d hoped would do the trick quickly and without charging too much.

His car managed to make it to the mechanic in one piece- though the sputtering of the engine misfiring was about to give him a heart attack.

The shop was nothing more than two bays behind old garage doors with a small office attached to the side. One of the bays was already occupied by an old body truck stripped of all its paint and covered in multiple patches of bondo. Jake pulled up to the next bay and waited a moment for someone to come out.

When nobody came he braved turning off his car, gripping the keys tightly in his palm as he slowly tread into the open garage. Once he stuck his head in he saw a pair of dirty work boots on the other side of the truck, but the dated stereo system that sat on top the workbench on the far wall kept the person at work from hearing Jake arrive. Jake cleared his throat and called out above the sound of Steely Dan playing loudly, “hello? Are you open?”

“You scared the shit out of me!” The person inside answered him, then their boots started to make their way around the front of the truck.

Jake stood awkwardly at the threshold of the doorway, waiting to see what kind of character worked at a place like this, but oddly enough he felt like he’d heard their voice from somewhere.

“What can I do for you?” They asked with their back towards Jake as they paused to turn down the stereo. Finally he turned around and a huge smile spread across his face when they both realized who it was. Danny was just as shocked to see Jake here as he was, but he also looked really excited.

“You work here?” Jake asked, thinking it was a stupid question as soon as it slipped out. Of course Danny worked here, he was standing inside the shop in a pair of navy dickies covered in oil and white dust with a just as dirty white t-shirt (this one without any modifications to it) tucked into his waistband and tightly stretched across his chest and arms.

“Off and on. Rudy’s a friend of mine he lets me do some body work when I need a job”.

“Oh,” Jake looked around the shop aimlessly, mostly just trying to keep from staring at the tattoo he now knew peaked out just underneath Danny’s sleeve. “There’s umm… something wrong with my car. Could you take a look at it?”

“Well, I’m not much of a mechanic but Rudy is out on lunch right now. For you though I could do some digging around and see if I can’t at least figure out what your problem is”.

Jake knew Danny was giving him special service as he lifted the hood and bent over into the engine. He never once thought having an admirer would come with many perks, but as he stood with his arms folded loosely across his chest as Danny checked hoses and looked for leaks the frustration towards the whole situation started to wear away. By some strange stroke of fate the car he so tediously took care of, nearly never missing an oil change, happened to break down in the same neighborhood he had no idea Danny worked in.

“Hey! Don’t break it any more!” Jake hollered, stepping up next to Danny to see what all the banging around he was doing was.

“I think I might know what it is” Danny popped his head back out, startling Jake as he suddenly came face to face with the other man. Another shock came when Danny grabbed his hand and shoved it down into the engine. “Feel that?”

Jake wanted to rip his hand away, all he could feel right now was the residual heat from the parts around his forearm, his fingers blindly searching for what Danny may be talking about, and the way his chest pressed against his shoulder as they both leaned over so Jake’s shorter arm could reach. Finally he felt the warm liquid and realized the smell he got a whiff of was gasoline.

“Must have a leak in your fuel injectors” Danny backed away, letting Jake pull his own hand out and offered him a rag from his back pocket to wipe it off with. “Gonna be a bitch to get replaced. Let me call Rudy see if he has any spare parts otherwise he can pick some up on his way back”.

Jake wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, not being too familiar with the inner workings of an engine himself, but he figured he should probably start making some calls of his own starting with work. After letting them know he probably wasn’t going to make it back from lunch Danny came walking out of the shop again.

“Good news, he can get the parts and he’s on his way back. Bad news, I could only sweet talk him down to a couple hundred bucks”.

“Right! Of course that’s fine, let me just-” Jake bent over back into his front seat, bracing himself on the cushion with one arm as he searched the console for his wallet. After a few seconds of not finding it he was struck with the realization that he’d had his wallet in his pants this morning. The ones he spilt coffee all over. “Fuck” he grumbled to himself, backing out of the car to see Danny looking away quickly. Was he staring?

“Well actually, I think I left my wallet at home. This Rudy guy doesn’t take ApplePay does he?”

Danny chuckled and shook his head, “no, this is not the kind of place for that. Don’t worry I’ve got you”.

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that” Jake tried to quickly figure out how he could get the money before Rudy returned. Maybe he could call Josh to swing by his house and get his wallet, or bring some cash. Fuck how long was this going to take anyways? He might have to ask Josh to pick up Luna from school too.

While Jake’s mind was racing Danny turned around and walked back into the shop to get back to work on the sanding he was doing before Jake happened to show up.

“Let me see what my brother is up to right now, he might be able to bring me some cash. How much exactly is it?” Jake followed Danny inside this time, not paying much attention to where he was going as he pulled his phone out.

Abruptly he was stopped when Danny’s hands wrapped around his forearms and pulled him out of the way before Jake could walk into a tool box sitting in the middle of the floor. He looked around the inside of the shop now, seeing the entire place was quite a disheveled mess. Tools were everywhere between the ground and the workbench, and oil pans that looked like they’d been used one too many times were piled into the corner of the second bay. It was like navigating a minefield to get somewhere he could stand and wait.

“I said don’t worry about it” Danny replied once he had Jake situated in a safe place. “Besides there are plenty of ways you can pay me back”. Danny gave Jake a flirtatious wink from where he sat back on his rolling stool on the other side of the truck.

“Excuse me?” Jake scoffed, too astounded by Danny’s suggestive response to focus on making the phone call now.

“Yeah, like a date” Danny continued as he picked up his scrap of sandpaper and started to go over his most recent bondo covered spot.

“A date?” Jake blinked a few times, wondering if he’d heard him right since the radio was still playing quietly in the background. “You want me to take you on a date?”

“Well I was going to say let me take you on a date” Danny chuckled again, keeping his eyes focused on his work, “but if you want to take me out I’m not at all opposed to that either”.

“I- I mean- ” Jake was stumbling over his words, in utter disbelief and embarrassed by his lack of composure right now. He didn’t understand what had gotten into him.

“What? Are you not into guys or something?” Danny let his eyes flicker back over to Jake this time, catching a slight blush creep into his cheeks.

“No, that’s not it…” Jake replied sheepishly. It was true, from a young age he didn’t put much thought into sexuality or gender for that matter. He was always more attracted to the person and how deep of a connection he could make rather than just what was on the surface. Though he’d never actually dated someone of the same sex before, it was never out of the question for him.

“Then what is it?”

The sound of Danny’s sanding stopped as he waited patiently for a response. He had a suspicion he knew where Jake’s reservations were rooted from, having already heard a few details, but he hoped Jake would feel comfortable enough to tell him himself.

“Dates have been hard for me,” Jake began, fiddling with the rim of his phone case to distract himself from mentally screaming stop shut up if you tell him he will only pity you- “since my wife died a few years ago”.

“I know,” Danny replied without hesitation, making Jake realize- of course he knew, his sister was one of Jake’s closest friends, “and I’d respect your boundaries if you said it was still too soon”.

Jake leaned against the work bench behind him and let his head fall backwards, huffing a breath out through his nose, staring up at the ceiling as he thought for a moment. His eyes felt dry and prickly, but he absolutely could not tear up right now. No he’d told himself a long time ago that he was done with that.

Danny seemed to be one step ahead of him on this, already understanding what he was getting himself into when asking Jake for a date. “What if I said it wasn’t too soon?”

“Hmm?” Danny didn’t quite make out his question, either because it was being directed towards the ceiling instead of him, or maybe because Jake was actually only asking himself.

“It’s not too soon” he rephrased as he looked back over at Danny again, a little more resolve in his demeanor. “Are you free this Friday night?”

Danny’s face lit up in a smile, having thought there for a moment Jake was going to officially tell him to fuck off. “I can be”.

A cocky reply, Jake thought, smirking himself a little. “Alright then. Friday night, I’ve got an event to go to. You can come”.

“An event? For your job?” Danny questioned in return as he once again got back to work. “Doesn’t sound like much of a date to me”.

“Look, do you want to come or not?”

“No, no, I’ll be there,” he assured him quickly, “thanks for inviting me”.

It’s not really like I had much of a choice. The truth was he could have declined, could have told Danny to shove it and stormed out of the shop to wait in his car for Rudy to return. He didn’t though, and there was possibly even a part of him who was excited he’d invited Danny.

Originally he was supposed to be going with Josh, but then his brother had something come up that weekend that he couldn’t get out of. Josh’s partner booked them a little mini vacation not realizing the dates conflicted with Jake’s concert, and the hotel and airfare were nonrefundable.

Jake promised him he didn’t mind, ‘It’s just going to be a local group playing a few songs, nothing too special. You guys go have fun’. He was more anxious about it than he’d led onto Josh though. At least now he wouldn’t be going alone and he’d have something to distract him if he got too nervous- Danny being easily very distracting.

“What are you even doing? You’ve been sanding the same spot this entire time” Jake tentatively stepped a little closer until Danny waved him over.

“I may not know too much about engines, but I know a lot about the body” Danny replied with a smugish half smile that made Jake roll his eyes. “Come here, you have to get right up close to see what I’m talking about”.

Jake moved to stand next to Danny, leaning over slightly as he stared at the white blob on the fender of the truck. Danny stood up and got behind him, barely grabbing at his waist as he positioned Jake to get the right angle. Jake’s body stiffened and froze, unused to being freely touched so often without any warning.

“You see how smooth it looks?” Danny muttered behind his ear making the hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stand up. “Run your hand across it now”. Jake did as he was told and placed his palm on the cold metal, feeling a small ripple as he swiped it slowly over the surface.

“You see sometimes things look perfect from the outside, but when you get your hands on it you find tiny little flaws. I’m a perfectionist, I’ve got to get every little dent and scratch out. Sometimes that takes days of just filling and sanding it back down until I run my hand across and it’s smooth as can be”.

“Doesn’t it get annoying?” Jake asked, thinking about how long and tedious that process must be.

“I’m very patient” Danny shrugged, letting go and sitting back on his stool.

Jake couldn’t help but let his mind wander in this moment as he watched Danny from just a foot away now. He wondered what Danny might think if he ever got an up close look at him. Sure maybe from the outside he looked put together, just like this fender solid and sturdy, but once he got his hands on him he’d be able to feel all his flaws- the cuts that dug deep into his very being and had scarred over.

Only about ten minutes later Rudy returned and Danny took a break from what he was doing to help get Jake’s car back in good working order. Thankfully they were done just in time for him to get to the school and pick up his daughter without having to call in reinforcements.

“Wait, could I get your number?” Danny stopped Jake before he could drive off, hoping but also confident that their fix worked. “So we can coordinate the date?”

Jake looked over Danny’s shoulder, seeing his boss tossing more tools around, not even bothering to clean up and not paying attention to what his employee was doing- clearly harassing customers. He gave him his number anyway, finding a text presumably from Danny when he got home. Just a simple wink face emoji.

Before he could save the number in his contact list though, Luna called for his help in the kitchen and he dropped his phone off on the bar. Completely forgetting about the little message left on read.

It wasn’t until Thursday night after he’d gotten off the phone with Josh that he received another text from the unknown number.

What should I be wearing tomorrow?

10:34PM

Jake waited a moment to reply, he’d just about concluded that maybe Danny had forgotten about the ‘date’ because he hadn’t heard from him since leaving Rudy’s shop Monday afternoon. When Danny didn’t show up to Wednesday’s soccer practice either Jake was a little discouraged, but he told himself to get over it. He walked Emma home and her mom looked like she’d had a rough day so Jake didn’t bother asking about her brother's whereabouts. Should he really care anyways?

Something nice but not too formal

10:48PM

No jeans and a crop top

10:49PM

Crop top?

11:00PM

Wait, that’s my favorite shirt

11:00PM

Good to know. Don’t wear it.

11:02PM

Ok I won’t, but you remember it?

11:02PM

Jake panicked for a second as he read the text. Why did he have to bring it up? Stupid mistake.

Danny continued to text while Jake stumbled for a reply, writing something out then thinking it sounded stupid and erasing it, knowing Danny was probably watching him type.

Did Luna see the video I sent her? Of the soccer ball slime? I thought she’d like that one

11:05PM

If Jake didn’t already feel awkward about bringing up the crop top, now he felt even sillier about having thought Danny had sent that video to him. Of course it was meant for Luna.

He debated not responding, just closing the messages app on his phone and going to sleep, but he knew that would be rude- a little white lie might be better.

Yes, she liked it

11:08PM

I’m glad, sorry I wasn’t at practice this week

11:09PM

Danny didn’t offer a reason why he was absent, but at least he’d thought to apologize. Not that he had to, it’s not like Jake was hoping to see him there or anything. Again he didn’t know what to say; it was getting late Danny had to know he was probably in bed right? Before he could reply again another text came in.

I’ll let you get to sleep. I’m excited to see you tomorrow. Good night Jake

11:11PM

Good night

11:12PM

Friday was a frenzy, hustling around between the office, the venue where the orchestra and band were getting to practice with the soloists for the last time before the show, and then home to get Luna ready to stay at Emma’s house while he was out.

The air was heavy at the venue when Jake left, some issues with sound they were able to get a tech to fix, and some tiny adjustments to the breaks in the program had everyone tense and on edge. Jake knew it was just pre show nerves though and he had full faith that the night was going to go over well.

The confidence in his peers didn’t exactly extend to himself however, as he held his breath when he rang the doorbell, Luna standing at his side excitedly.

“Daddy you’re going to a party?” She asked, ever curious about what he was up to.

“I’m going to a work party” he explained to her again, having already told her she was going alone to play at Emma’s house tonight for just a couple of hours.

“Will there be presents and cake there?”

“No presents, but there might be some cake. Do you want me to save you some?”

“Me and Emma?” She asked, grabbing his hand and looking up at her Dad with a pleading smile.

“Of course, I’ll bring you both some” he returned the smile down at her until the front door opened and she bounced inside off to find her friend.

“Thank you for watching her tonight” Jake told Emma’s mom as he waited around for Danny to show. He’d text him when he was on the way, offering a ride since he was coming over anyways.

“Of course any time” she kept the door open, also aware who Jake was waiting on. The silence was a bit uncomfortable, how much did she know about them anyways? The two seemed to be close, but he worried if she thought it was a little strange her friend and her brother were going out together.

“I know someone who gives piano lessons will be there tonight. I can ask them if they have any space for Emma” Jake offered, just to fill the time.

“Oh, that would be nice. We’ve got a lot going on right now though so we might wait until next year”.

“No worries, I can just get her contact information. Has Michael been having to stay late again?” He didn’t want to pry too much, but after a couple of years of knowing them he could tell there seemed to be some new unresolved tension coming from the household.

She sighed and shook her head, obviously frustrated but biting her tongue. He realized there might be a little more to her irritation than just her husband working late, but before she could break and spill her worries Danny finally emerged from the hallway.

“Sorry for making you wait, I was ironing my shirt”.

Jake’s eyebrows shot up when he saw Danny in the doorway, the light from inside the house casting his long shadow across the porch Jake stood on. He was wearing a dark colored button up with a diamond pattern, the sleeves rolled a quarter of the way up his arms with subtle gold chains across his wrists and neck. “Is this okay?” He did a little spin, holding his arms out so Jake could get a good look at his outfit.

“Yeah it’s great. You look great” Jake cleared his throat and adjusted the collar of his own shirt, glancing over to see Danny’s sister watching them with amusement in her eyes.

“Well you two have fun. Jake don’t worry about hurrying home we’ve got the kids”.

Jake nodded and Danny gave his sister a quick side hug before joining Jake on the porch. She shut the door behind him and Danny gave Jake a big eager smile.

“You look great too. I like this” he ran his thumb across the lapel of Jake’s suede coat he’d chosen for the night, already knowing it got cold at the venue they were going to. “I like these too” Danny’s fingers moved next to one of the necklaces that sat against Jake’s chest, picking up the circular charm and examining it.

“Thanks, they were a gift” Jake replied, trying to remain as still as possible and keep his breathing steady.

“Well, shall we?” Danny gently laid the pendant back down and retreated, clasping his hands behind his back like he was reminding himself to behave.

The ride over was nice. They talked about music finding out they had similar taste, Jake leaning more towards blues and Danny towards folk but both sharing a passion for the classics of old rock n roll.

When they arrived at the event Jake had plenty of people to greet and thank for being there. He worried Danny might feel out of place or get bored, but every time he glanced over to him Danny was lit up with a smile and conversing with those around him. Soon it was time to take their seats; Jake showed Danny where they would be at the back of the room, and waited by the stage for his quick speech before the concert started.

Jake held the mic tightly in his hands, not having felt that weight in his grip in years. He’d always had a bit of stage fright, but getting up in front of a crowd with June had never been less than amazing and he tuned into the memory of that feeling when he stepped in front of the audience tonight.

“First of all I’d just like to thank everyone for taking the time out of their weekend to be here with us. For those of you I don’t know, my name is Jacob Kiszka and I work for the foundation who put on this event. All of our ticket sales from tonight are going towards our new program that offers students free private music lessons. I really hope you enjoy the performance. Over the past six months I’ve been overseeing this project, I've gotten the opportunity to know some of these brilliant musical minds and promise they have some treats in store for you. Again, thank you so much for coming and after the show please feel free to check out the live band and refreshments we will have in the conference room next door”.

The crowd clapped for him as he exited the small stage and scurried off to rejoin Danny at their seats. They had the last row reserved to themselves, and with the venue not being close to full there wasn’t even anyone sitting anywhere near them.

As soon as he plopped down next to Danny the lights dimmed, getting darker where they were compared to the stage lights that focused their intensity on the musicians down below and the first song on the program began.

Jake’s focus stayed on the stage, but he felt Danny shift closer to him and whisper into his ear. “You did a good job”.

Just as easily as he’d leaned over, Danny sat back in his seat and enjoyed the performance, letting Jake do the same. Despite any hiccups they’d had earlier, the soloists were flawless, the transitions between pieces seamless, and the audience was loving every minute of it, clapping enthusiastically after each final note.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Jake asked Danny when his favorite performer finished by far the hardest song of the night, The Habanera from Carmen. It was her idea to include it in the program, and although Jake worried it might be too difficult for an intermediate orchestra, he was blown away by their hard work and dedication to the art.

“I actually can't believe I just heard that in real life” Danny’s mouth was agape, his eyes glittering with sheer delight.

Jake’s smile faded as he observed Danny watching the performance now, but it wasn’t because he was upset or anything. Quite the opposite, he was suddenly being filled with an overwhelming sense of relief and reassurance. He expected Danny might like it otherwise he wouldn’t have invited him. Even if he didn’t that would have been ok, but Danny seemed to be genuinely appreciative of his time here and that made Jake even happier he’d come.

Feeling like he was being watched, Danny looked over and made eye contact with Jake who was sitting on the edge of his seat. A shiver broke through undeather his coat when Danny’s eyes took him in next, looking him up and down through hooded lids and finally settling on his hands in his lap.

Internally Jake was screaming at himself to move, say something, do anything, but on the outside he was as calm as ever when Danny reached over and grabbed one of his hands, intertwining their fingers together and giving it a squeeze. Jake let out a shaky breath as his eyes fell to his lap, hoping Danny could not feel his heart pounding in his wrist.

“Jake…” Danny muttered his name in the dark, swiping his thumb over the back of Jake’s hand making him look back up again, only he didn’t look him in the eye this time. Jake found himself staring at Danny’s lips, hoping he’d be the braver of the two again.

Before either of them could make the next move though their moment was cut short when Jake heard someone else start speaking over the microphone.

“This last piece was not included on the programs, it is a special thanks to our Director Jake for all the hard work he’s put in. We hope you’ve all had a great night and be safe”.

Jake snapped his head back towards the stage, shocked and completely unaware of this secret addition to the performance. He gripped Danny’s hand tighter when the song began to play and he instantly recognized it as a rendition of one of his own.

The singer started in after the acoustic guitar opening, and Jake was taken aback when he heard his late wife's lyrics bleeding through the speakers for the first time in over three years.

He could feel the sting but he didn’t even register the tears rolling down his cheeks until Danny sat forward as well. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” he felt his voice crack, his face and chest burning hot as he shook his hand free from Danny’s and excused himself.

Jake went out into the hallway to collect himself, furiously wiping at his cheeks until they were rubbed red and drying his palms on his pants. Thankfully he was alone, until he heard the sound of the door behind him allowing someone else out.

“I’m sorry, that just caught me off guard” Jake’s knee jerk reaction was to apologize, suck it up, and walk back in with his head held high. All of that flew out the window though when Danny silently came from behind him and wrapped his arms around Jake’s shoulders, pulling his back against his chest and resting his chin on the top of Jake’s head.

More tears began to pool along his lash line when Jake reciprocated the touch by wrapping his hands around Danny’s forearms and pulling them tighter around his shaking frame.

“Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to feel every emotion coming to you right now” Danny muttered behind him.

Jake shook his head and nuzzled his face into the forearms folded across his chest, waiting for the moment to pass before he popped his head back up and inhaled sharply.

“Ok, I’m going to go to the restroom. People will be coming out soon. Will you wait for me in the conference room?”

“Yeah, I can do that”. Danny released his hold and took a few steps back to give Jake some space now. Though as he watched Jake cover his mouth with the back of his hand and walk away, he wished he’d let him follow.

Tags: @lyndz2names @gracev0609 @lipstickitty @sanguinebats @kultavalo

A/N: So there really is a program called Austin Soundwaves that does offer free private music lessons for children in that area. I was able to go to one of their concerts and the performer really did start belting Carmen, it was awesome. Support your local musicians 👏

[the-peak-tmnt]

Asking a few people this! If the turtles weren't from New York, where would you like for them to live? What city or state or even country?

Whoa! I love this question!

Okay, so my choice is Los Angeles. I no longer live there, but it was my second home and I plan on moving back once my parents are gone. I was a transplant, though, so take all this with a grain of salt. Or maybe some lifelong/longtime locals can chime in and build off this!

The turtles traditionally travel around NYC via sewers and rooftops. LA is extremely spread out, though. It’s also a car city, and I think the turtles would embrace the car culture in a couple different ways.

First of all, I think we’d see a lot more of the turtles traveling like the boys did in the grocery shopping montage in Mutant Mayhem:

Lots of riding on cars in the dense LA traffic, luring under overpasses to hop a ride on the right truck, hopping over barriers along the shoulder, etc.

Secondly, I can see the turtles fixing up an old van like a 1970s/80s/90s Ford Econoline or Club Wagon or something similar as their turtle tank. I know the 87 series Party Wagon is based on a classic VW bus, but those are just too flashy and iconic for the boys to keep a low profile in modern LA. Whatever they had, it would need to look a little busted up to blend in!

That being said, I think it would be almost impossible for them to go completely unnoticed! I think they would end up in a sort of hybrid situation where they’re known to exist by Angelenos, but everyone outside of Los Angeles thinks they’re just some quirky LA urban legend. But for Angelenos, I think they’d be sort of like P-22 the mountain lion; something everyone knows is there, but only a lucky few ever actually see.

They might actually play this up by hitting up popular tourist attractions or local hotspots to let people catch a glimpse of them. Like they might swing by Griffith Observatory or Santa Monica Pier to psych people out like ‘holy shit did I really just see a turtle?!’ I think they'd get a kick out of it, and their need for secrecy wouldn't be taken as seriously as it is in most TMNT iterations because that matches the more chill vibes of LA.

I think even some locals would take advantage of this and start turtle sightseeing tours like they do celebrity sightseeing tours, and take tourists to places that the turtles have been spotted in the past. The boys might even work with some of these tours under the table and intentionally let themselves be spotted as a side hustle or something lol

Making the turtles Angelenos would also be perfect for way to play up their skateboarding hobby, because LA is a skateboarder’s paradise. There’s tons of skate parks which they’d probably be hitting up at night, but I could also see them taking advantage of the LA river and sketchier places only the most adventurous of humans try to skate.

If the turtles were Angelenos, I think they would be based in DTLA since that’s the best urban cover for them. It also gives them access to DTLA’s Metro, which would be the easiest way for them to get from DTLA to the greater Los Angeles area so they wouldn’t always have to rely on using the van.

I could keep going, but I think I’ll leave it here for now and maybe come back to this later!

[alliluyevas]

now one area where i will give boston props in comparison to dc is that the crime rate and particularly the murder rate is dramatically lower. which is interesting because i felt the cities were similar feeling in terms of grunginess/how safe i felt (generally pretty safe both cities while obviously recognizing that it was an urban environment and you should be aware of your surroundings.) that being said, the neighborhoods in which i lived and worked in boston were definitely considered to be like...on the sketchier side probably and i felt like that was comparable to where i grew up in dc which is more middle tier by dc standards (the bougie/downtown parts of both cities felt similar to me) so maybe it's not comparable on that front if the quote unquote shady parts of boston feel like the urban-but-not-considered-shady-really parts of dc