#you inspire meeeeee

[discords-morgan]

Catastrophic thought .......... Anzu and Yugi are walking to school together one day ... they run into Jou on the way, he's being weirdly cagey ... they realize he's got a black eye and a bandage on his nose ... Instant Concern but Jou INSISTS he's fine and not to worry and if they take any longer they'll be late for school and ANZU WHAT ARE YOU DOING . Anzu drags both of them to a public restroom and goes "well if you don't want us to know then fine but that means the teachers Definitely don't need to know so let me help" ... and Jou's like "..... yeah ig ....." and she helps him cover up the bruises with a bit of make up she has and it's not great but it works and the teachers don't notice a thing, nobody asks questions and it's great (Yugi has to Really talk Yami down from picking a fight because "no don't it would just make Jou feel worse you know this :(((" and Yami's like "ugh fine,, but I'll remember this")

[wormswurld]

patrick moodboard 🫐 // COOL - troye savin

[theorphicangel]

any writing tips for writers just starting out?? i love what you write and would definitely take tips from you <3

i don't know if i would be all that great at giving advice....so it's a bit sparse...i'm still learning what the fuck to do and how to make my writing better everyday but thank you so much for reading my works nonetheless!!!!!!!!!! :D

i guess my tip is to read a lot and pick up on techniques and styles that you like to read from other people. i read a stephen king book AGESSSS AGO on writing and it was like 'if you're not reading a lot you won't be able to write' ( author's note: i haven't really sat down and read a book in weeks lmao so take with a pinch of salt)

and that's true to an extent i guess, but it's a good starting point if you're stuck or want motivation for writing style, reading a good variety of authors helps too and you can test and try and test and try and test ect ect getting fluidity in your writing ect ect

idk about show and don't tell because i be telling all the damn time but focusing on little details helps and the nuanced ways in which characters react and having dialogue that sounds and feels natural (saying it aloud or stealing convos from your friends which i do)

another thing that helps me is being self indulgent and writing for myself as an audience first, if i like it great and i wouldn't worry if others will or wont because you can do whatever the hell you want

i sort of read writing advice from my favourite writers to get me in the mood to write and developing a 'flow' like state also helps me toooo,

i suggest writing a little bit every day (or every other day) to build a routine, read widely, write a lot and that's it.

don't see it as a scary thing because writing is really fun and anything you write is worthy to be proud of!!!! MWAH <3333333

[bastardcherub]

I think I’d make for a cute puppy!!!!!!!

[reigen-small-naturals]

i gen don't like when celebrities go like 'my fans aren't my fans they are my love/my friends💞' girl tf we don't know each other like that 🤨🤨🤨🤨

[kokii-omii]

What have you done to meeeeee

I started with one TWST OC and now I have 14!

Your inspiration is contagious

aw yeah, now im not the only one with 10+ kids

oc making is a disease and i am patient 0

[nevermorewebtoonnews]

Up and Coming Comedian Rebuffed by Fandom With No Sense of Humor

Spurred on by recent activity in the Nevermore fandom, a Tumblr user known as nevermorehateblog12 has come out as a budding comedian, doubtless to the delight of the entire website. 

After seeing a rather obscene and uncomfortable meme that depicted writer Kit Trace in the nude on the PG-13 website, nevermorehateblog12 was inspired. “I could do something like that,” they told reporters. “I’ve always personally thought I was funny. My mom, dad, and preschool teachers all told me that humor shouldn’t be at the expense of other people, but sometimes adults just don’t know what the fuck’s going on in the world these days. If the winds of humor are shifting, then I’m ready to let my true sense of humor shine!”

Hateblog started their comedy set with a number of crude jokes, directed in private to other members of the unofficial Nevermore Discord server they are a member of. With a number of gags criticizing the art, writing, fandom interactions, general disposition, and astrological signs of creators Kit Trace and Kate Flynn, their first set went on for an hour. However, despite generally creator-critical sentiments in the fan-run server, Hateblog’s gags fell flat with their intended audience.

“Look, don’t tell them I said this,” said one anonymous Discord user, “because I don’t want to become the next target. But like, one of the jokes was pretty much pornographic and was shared in a server with minors in it. Which was the same thing that they were trying to criticize RnF for. I dunno, I just felt uncomfortable. It was like they got off on whatever the fuck that was.”

When braver users expressed this to Hateblog, the comedian got defensive. “Don’t come after meeeeee,” they said. “It’s a joke! Why are you telling me to kms over a joke? Why are you being so meaaaaan? Stop sending me death threats!”

While no user had asked Hateblog to do any such thing, nor sent anything remotely similar to death threats, internet protocol translated this into a request for a ceasefire. Criticism stopped instantly, but Hateblog had already abandoned the Discord and instead forayed back into Tumblr for their next set. 

The crude comments continued to escalate despite fandom expressions of discomfort. “It’s a joke!” said Hateblog. “Legally, you can do anything to me if it’s a joke! Also, you’re a TOTAL ASSHOLE WHO LOVES KICKING PUPPIES if you criticize me, uwu.”

The latest and final in Hateblog’s series of gags was a newly-opened crowdfunding campaign promising to hire assassins to go after the creators, who "totally deserved it" according to the campaign description. Witnesses say they heard the young adult hollering “But it’s just a joke!” as they were loaded into a police car. Nevermore News will cover the trial as it unfolds.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hello 🎶 it's meeeeee 🎼

Buenas, beautiful lady. I want to request something to youuuu (obvio cause I'm in your inbox 😂)

Can you do something inspired on the new smw photoshoot Pedri did 😩🔥🩷 pretty please! Do what you want, go crazy on me 😀❤️

Señorita, you're always bienvenida in my inbox💜✨ Pedri will make me go crazy😭😭 he's so gorgeous I can't even explain how beautiful that man is, dear lord😭!

Warnings: mentions of sexy times, nothing graphic it's safe for everyone to read, Pedri being a lil confident ass, reader being head over heels for Pedri. This probably doesn't make any sense💀😭 and sorry in advance if it doesn't, it's been a while since I've written something😭

Tease -P.G8

Summary: He said he wasn't feeling confident about the shoot, the results show the opposite.

"C'mon, amor. You'll look great even if you're wearing a trash suit!"

"You say that because you're my girlfriend"

"No, I say that because I'm a woman with two eyes who know how to appreciate beauty and you, mi amor, have lots of it" Pedri rolled his eyes as you shook your head and fixed the collar of the beige suit.

"I suddenly don't want to do this" He sighs "I enjoy being more in a sweatshirt and joggers"

"I know you do and you will be in sweatshirts and joggers once again when this shoot it's done, it'll be quick"

"Not quick enough"

"What will you do when you're getting your wedding suit done?"

"Wait for you to get your wedding dress done so we can marry?" You smile at him.

"Well played" He laughed softly "But let me tell you that I actually enjoy seeing you in suits, it's not often I get to see you like that, you look incredibly handsome and more mature, like a CEO... and it makes me wanna jump all over you" You state wrapping your arms around his neck, a smirk came up to your boyfriend's face and he wrapped his arms around you.

"I don't need to be in suits for you to do that" You blush and laugh.

"True. You breathe and I'm all crazy for you, González" He laughs pecking your lips a few times.

"C'mon, let's go"

"Thought you didn't wanted to do the photoshoot right away?"

"I want to get home, my girlfriend said she wants to jump all over me, I'm never passing up those chances" He winked at you while he left the room leaving you giggly and running behind him to catch him.

"Pedri, I'll need you to act confident, move around, own the shoot" The photographer said getting ready behind his camera

"I think I can do that"

"¿Qué crees? Venga mi amor, tú puedes. Vamos, con confianza" (You think? C'mon, mi amor, you can. C'mon, confidence)

And with confidence he did it. It was only a few days later when you found yourself screaming all over your house after seeing his latest IG post.

"¿Qué pasa, preciosa? ¿Todo bien? ¿Por qué el grito?" (What's wrong, precious? Is everything okay? Why the scream?)

"¿Eres tonto?" (Are you stupid?)

"¿Disculpa?" (Excuse me?)

"¿Cómo te atreves a subir fotos de ese estilo sin avisarme?" (How dare you upload photos like that without telling me?) You looked at him in disbelief "Don't you think my ovaries will explode after watching this?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Can we have your tux for our wedding done in this color? You look absolutely gorgeous-ah! oh dear god! your hair, your face, your eyes, your eyebrows... your hands! I never knew your wrist would look so good with a simple watch!"

"Y/N, can you calm down and explain to me what is going on?"

"How do you want me to calm down with you dropping these pictures?" You show your phone screen for the first time to him "I really want to have your babies, right now, Pedro González López"

Reality hit him and he started laughing. You. His girlfriend were fangirling over him.

"We can practice for them"

"How do you look so beautiful every day, every time, every second? Like... You don't get tired of it? Amor, I don't really understand what were you nervous about! I'm so lucky to have you as my boyfriend, I get to have you, all of you! ¡Dude, buah!" You let go of your phone letting it fall on the carpet still looking at Pedri "You're so pretty, I love you so much"

Pedri was blushing and his giggles were the only thing you were hearing "I love you too" He said wrapping his arms around you

"How can you be so hot and so cute at the same time?" You asked with a smile on "It's not possible"

"Welcome to the club, I have to deal every day with you being cute and sexy at the same time" You kissed his lips.

He was perfect.

"You knew what you were doing, right?" You asked after a bit of silence.

"I mean... I didn't know it would have this effect on you but I definitely need to keep doing photoshoots in suits"

"You little bastard-"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[thollandneedy]

hiii can you make something inspired by the video of tom protecting zendaya from the paparazzi

Worthy- Peter Parker

A/n: Peter being protective, ugh (give it to meeeeee). Btw, thank you for the request babe 🥰

Warnings: Mentions of death, swearing, mentions of vomit, anxiety attack symptoms and aggressive approach

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

It was no surprise to anyone that Peter Parker was dating Tony Stark's daughter, but it was the first time they had appeared publicly at an event together. After some catastrophes caused by the Avengers after their last mission in Berlin, in order to redeem the act of motivating violence towards young people, Stark decided to hold an event to fund social support groups.

Y/n was used to having the eyes of the media, mainly because of her beauty, but Peter hated the media. As well as distorting many of Spider-Man's actions, calling him irresponsible and selfish, there would always be people who would point out the slightest of his mistakes in order to get 'likes'. The girl, on the other hand, had several controversies involving her name, but she never let that get to her. Her father had taught her to always ignore people who spoke badly and pointed out mistakes, because if they were strong enough, they would talk in person rather than hide behind a screen in a dark room with a deplorable life.

“Aren't you nervous?” Peter asks, finishing lacing up his black shoes.

“No. I just didn't want anyone coming up to me asking me about my sexuality again because I said in an interview that I'd kiss Madison Beer.” Y/n says, looking at herself in the mirror as she finishes fixing the pair of earrings on her ear.

“What if they ask me something? What do I say?” The brunette gets up from the cream recliner at the end of the king-size bed in his girlfriend's room, heading towards her.

“Just be yourself, love.” The girl turns to her boyfriend, who places his warm hands on her waist, pulling her close in one smooth movement. The girl opens an affectionate smile, allowing her pink lips to meet Peter's. “And don't get involved in any controversy. It's not enough that people suspect you of being Spider-Man. My father will kill you if anything happens, especially during the party.”

“You look beautiful, you know that?” The older man commented, looking at the girl from head to toe with a sideways smile. The dress was tailored, with long sleeves that were almost transparent and her body shaped by the wine velvet until it dragged on the floor with a small neckline, but one that emphasized her breasts.

“I know it.” Y/n laughs, making Peter roll his eyes and walk away.

Two knocks on the white door are heard, drawing the attention of the young couple who head towards where the sound was coming from, then open the door. The image of Pepper in a black dress comes into view, apparently impatient with how long they were taking in the room. The blonde put both hands on her waist, saying:

“Really? 10 minutes to put on an earring and get your bag, Y/n?”

“We're ready.” Peter defends. “Come on, sweetheart.” The dark-haired man in the black suit and gray tie holds out his hand to the younger woman.

“But my bag.” Y/n turns her body to the side, looking out of the corner of her eye for her bag, which had mysteriously disappeared.

“This one?” Peter holds out his other hand with the handle of the white bag positioned on the tip of his index finger, drawing a surprised smile from the girl.

“Come on, you two.” Pepper warns, stepping into the middle of the couple and closing the door behind them.

(…)

“How many minutes until we arrive?” Y/n asks the driver, at the same time as his eyes are focused on his cell phone camera so that his gloss doesn't get smudged in the photos that will be taken later.

“Less than 5” he replies, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

“Do you want me to go out holding your hand or do we go out one at a time?” The brunette asks, swinging his legs as a way of relieving the anxiety trapped in his chest.

“Relax, Pete. Let me go out alone first. I know some of my followers will want to take pictures with me since I told them I'd be at the event.” Y/n says, closing the transparent gloss and putting it in her handbag. “I don't want the same thing to happen that happened in January.”

“You turned down photos because you had a viral infection and put your organs out in the back of the car in that KFC bowl” Peter reminds her, placing one of his free hands on the girl's back.

“And they still called me an unsympathetic diva,” Y/n mentions, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to catalyze the feeling of discontent after remembering the hate the media threw at her.

“We're here, Miss Stark,” the driver warns, opening the automatic door and showing the group of fans and paparazzi who were waiting for the couple at the entrance to the event.

Peter got out of the vehicle, being called by several people and blinded by the flashes of the paparazzi who insisted on putting their cameras in his face. The men with their caps back and big cameras asked

“Are you really Spider-Man?”

“Does Stark approve of your relationship even though you're poor?”

“Is it true that Stark Enterprises is related to the death of your parents?”

Peter clenches his jaw, takes a deep breath to himself, and walks past the men with his face closed as he hears these questions. Y/n, on the other hand, got out of the car with a smile on her face like a princess. The girl put her hair back and got out of the car without the protection of the security guards who were at the door of the event. The group of followers who were waiting at the railing to take a picture with the youngest girl held out their cell phones so that she could take a picture with them. Y/n waved to the fans who were a little further back, allowing them to be noticed too. The girl took the cell phones, snapped the photos and thanked them with a smile, and this was the key to the paparazzi taking advantage of the situation to punch her with questions and photos that were too close.

“Are you dating Peter Parker out of pity?” One of the men asks.

“I'm not,” she replies, as she takes pictures with the people clinging to the low railing.

Peter stands in the doorway, watching from afar how his girlfriend will react. Thanks to his powers, he could hear Y/n's heart and sense when she was threatening to have an anxiety attack. Her mouth might lie with a smile, but her eyes would never lie about her being. The brunette turned on his heel as soon as he heard the first question, turning back the way he had come.

“Do you regret realizing that what happened in Berlin wasn't deliberate? The damage was done by your father's group. People died.” Another says.

The group of photographers was getting too close.

“I have no regrets. That's why my father is promoting the event. To help those who are hurt.” She replies, finishing taking the last photo.

As soon as she lowers her head so that she can go to meet Peter, she is cornered. Several white lights take over her vision, and she finds herself dazed by so much movement. Her frightened eyes searched for Peter, but she couldn't find him. Everything around her was getting too hot from the sweaty bodies that were increasingly trying to get in touch with the girl in the red dress.

“Your father killed innocent people.”

“We already knew she'd be just like her selfish father. She's just a good girl in disguise.”

“Did you cheat on your boyfriend with actor Drew Starkey at your best friend's party in Los Angeles last month?”

“She looks like she'd do that.”

Peter stepped into the middle of the paparazzi, pushing them hard with the sides of his body, throwing his cameras to the ground every time he saw one of them being placed in his girlfriend's face. The older man seemed to have fire in his eyes, even capable of burning someone with his fury. The girl's heart was racing, and then a strong hand found her, pulling her close and taking away the whirlwind of questions and comments spewed at her. Her chest was heaving, feeling her lungs regain air, and pressing her hands against her chest. Peter hugged her close, running his hands down her back and directing her towards the door of the event decorated with gold, white and red balloons

“She always does that. Leaves when she can't answer something we ask. Classic spoiled bitch.” One of the men picks up his camera from the floor, wiping the lens on his gray blouse.

At one moment, Y/n was standing next to Peter, and the other she was being abandoned again at the door of the large party building. With strong, hurried steps, Peter spins his body around to throw a powerful punch at the man who made the comment, causing him to fall against the other gossip channels who were on duty at the scene to capture any slip-ups. The photographer grumbled, putting his hand to his lip and realizing that blood was coming out. With a startled look on his face, he glares at the brunette

“Call my girlfriend a bitch one more time, and I'll make you swallow your fucking tongue.” He says through his teeth, stepping out of the crowd again and into the building with hurried steps.

Y/n had her hands over her mouth, stunned by what Peter had just done. Her heels tapped against the lobby floor as her boyfriend patted her shoulder, trying to comfort her from what she had just been through. Parker was followed by two security guards, who, only after seeing the situation, decided to protect Y/n.

“You irresponsible bastards. Stark will find out about this.” Peter says loudly to the two men in black, who were now following them to the elevator.

“My father!” Y/n says in astonishment. “Peter, my father's going to find out about the punch you threw at the guy outside! Fuck, we're fucked. He's going to kill you. Shit.”

“Don't worry, darling. Anything to protect you is worthy.” The brunette pressed the elevator's ‘up’ button, hugging his girlfriend tighter against his chest.

[mashiiiko]

🪻 pristine, porcelain and ceramic mercy skin concepts !! ✨

omg guess whos been forgetting to post concepts 🥹 meeeeee ahahsiajha anyways heres a mercy concept!!!! the whole idea for this one was to make a fancy skin for her with a colour palette that she has very few skins of (the og concept is the green one - ceramic!!) i was super inspired by porcelain corsets so i wanted that to be the main pieces of the outfit :3 i also made a small matching moira one :0 lmk if you wanna see it !!!!

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

One For The Road [4]

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: Cecil calls you late at night

A/N: Another huge thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading again, making some excellent suggestions, and putting up with meeeeee <3

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, catching feelings, oral sex (afab!receiving), jerking off, p in v sex (with a condom), vibrators, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 3073

I Thought It Was Dark Outside

Cecil: “Do you want to come over on Friday night?” 

You: “You got new porn recommendations for me?”

Cecil: “You want some?” 

You: “Maybe.” 

Cecil: “I was thinking we could do something a little different?” 

You: “Such as?” 

Cecil sends you a video. The preview image is black. 

Cecil: “This could be inspiration maybe?” 

You pause for a moment before you click the video. The second it starts you’re glad it’s late and you are on your own tucked up in bed. Not on public transport or at work. 

It’s, unsurprisingly, semi-professional porn. 

A woman is bouncing on a guy's cock, her hand squeezing his neck as he whines underneath her. 

You: “Is that what you’re into? Getting choked?” 

Cecil takes a few minutes to reply. 

Cecil: “Yeah.” 

Cecil: “I’m into lots of stuff.”

Cecil: “Is that okay?” 

You: “Yep.” 

Cecil: “Good. You don’t have to choke me or anything if you don’t want to, I was just thinking if you’d like to fuck on a bed?”

Cecil: “My bed?” 

You snort, unable to not find his texts weirdly endearing. 

You: “I like how formal you’re being.” 

Cecil: “Yeah? Or are you joking? Tone is hard over text.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply this time before your phone vibrates with another message. 

Cecil: “And that’s not the only thing that’s hard.” 

Cecil: “Get it?” 

You: “Your dick?” 

Cecil: “You wanna see?” 

You smile. 

You: “Sure.” 

You expect a photo, maybe a little video. But instead, Cecil video calls you. 

After the small beat of surprise, you giggle and accept the call. 

“Hi Cec,” you smile. 

“Hi,” he whines. He’s laying in bed, his face and part of his bare chest taking up the frame. His phone shakes slightly and from the sounds it’s obvious that he’s jerking himself off out of frame. 

“You having fun?” You tease. 

He pouts. “Got horny.” 

“Aw, did you?” 

He pulls a face and you giggle. 

Cecil grins, his facade breaking for a second before he reschools his face into a puppy dog expression. “Your fault.” 

You snort. “How is it my fault?”

“Talking to you, got hard.” 

Heat runs under your skin. “Show me.” 

He bites his lip and there is a manic moment where he scrambles to change the camera from front facing to back one handed, which makes you smile. 

His cock is hard against his stomach, the tip red and swollen. He’s squeezing the base lightly, but not moving. 

You lick your lips. “Aww, Cec…” You say softly and he whimpers. “Having trouble because I’m not there to take care of you?” You try your best to make your voice sound vaguely neutral and fail miserably. 

“Yes.” He whines, and you can hear the over the top sulk in his voice. 

“Want me to come and sit on it?” 

The jab is playful and anything but serious, but his cock twitches before your eyes on the screen and he groans. 

“Pleeeaseee,” he swallows, giving one slow jerk. His stomach muscles quivering under the strain. “Please, god, fuck, Harry isn’t here right now, he’s at Mary-Ann’s tonight. You could, you could stay over and-” He moans as he shallowly thrusts into his hand. “Please, you could, we could-fuck- I mean definitely fuck. I won’t even come until you get here. Please?” 

You pause, conflicted. Part of you really wants to tease him, to mess with him and watch until he spurts all over his tummy and whimpers in that oh so sweet way. 

The other really wants to be in the same room as him right now. 

You glance at the time on your phone. 23:49. This would be a booty call, wouldn’t it? 

Though at this time, it would barely take ten minutes to drive to his house. 

Fuck it. 

“Okay.” 

You barely get the word out before Cecil is uttering a stream of ‘thank yous.’

“But.” 

He stops talking quickly, a little snap echoes as he sharply closes his mouth. 

“I want you to come now. Otherwise, you’ll get too excited when you see me and’ll probably bust a nut on the spot.” 

Cecil giggles, but starts jerking off straight away, his laughter quickly turning into moans. If you hadn’t already heard him several times in previous situations, you would say he was putting it on a little. Purposefully sounding as pornographic as possible. But that was just Cecil, he couldn’t be anything but loud. 

“I would,” he manages to get out through his cries of pleasure. “You’re so smart, I totally, totally would just see you and jizz, fuck, you really gonna come over and see me?” His voice breaks a little at the end and so does a little piece of your heart. 

How many times had people lied to him? 

How many times had others broken promises? 

“I am, the second you finish.”

He whines. His hips slamming up into his fist, the slap, slap, slap of skin echoing around your room. 

“Cecil.” 

“Yes,” the word is strained, breathless.

“I wanna see you when you come, want to see your face.” You haven’t even finished your sentence but already Cecil is rapidly changing the camera. 

He looks so wrecked, his eyes glazed over. He softly whimpers your name, biting his lip. “Gonna come.” 

“Good.” 

He moans loudly, convulsing and nearly dropping the phone with the force of his orgasm. He shudders, breathing hard and pressing the back of his head to his pillow as his muscles tense and relax. 

You’ve never seen anything more beautiful. 

“That was so nice.” He mumbles and then, instead of changing the camera, just twists the phone around to show you the mess of cum on his stomach. 

You grin. “Very good Cecil.” 

“Oh fuck.” He shivers and giggles when he turns the phone back to face him, “Don’t– you’ll make me come again.” 

You snort. “You got a praise kink?” 

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Duh, of course.” 

You laugh and look at him for a moment, really focusing this time. There are faint bags under his eyes and his eyes themselves are red. “You high?” 

He shakes his head.

“Drunk?” 

“Nope, haven’t drunk or smoked or taken any delicious mind altering substances today.” He gives you a sincere smile. 

Maybe he’s just tired. 

Maybe he’d been crying.

You push that thought away quickly. 

“You sure you want me to come over?” 

He nods quickly, “Please– only if you want to, I mean, but, I’d really like to see you. We don’t have to do anything, well, you could just sit on my face for a few hours.” 

You bark out a laugh. “A few hours?” 

“I know,” he nods, all fake seriousness, “Not long enough….” 

“You dork.” 

“You love me for it,” he beams. 

“Yeah, sure.” You smile. “I’ll be over in ten. And no getting dressed.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He mock salutes. But you get the feeling he likes it more than he is letting on. 

.

—-----------------------------------------------

The drive takes 8 minutes. A new personal record, and no speed limits were broken either.

You’ve barely knocked on the door, your knuckles just grazing the wood, before it’s thrown open dramatically. 

Cecil beams at you, ushering you in. He’s wearing a dark blue towel bathrobe that he takes off in a flourish the second the door is closed. “It’s me, Anastasia.” He flounces his arms to the side, mimicking the cartoon character. He’s completely naked, his semi cock bobs comically as he moves.

You giggle at him, kissing his cheek and then his lips. His grin widens, happiness flowing off him in waves as he wraps his arms around you. His skin is warm and he smells like coconut body wash, obviously having taken a quick shower before you got here. 

“I’m so glad you came.” He nuzzles into your neck, littering any skin he can reach with kisses. 

“Me too. Thank you for inviting me.”

He tuts and squeezes a fraction tighter, “You are always welcome. Literally, just come over whenever.”

A spark of warmth settles in your chest. “Yeah, well, you gotta deal with me in my pyjamas now.”

He pulls back a second, still grinning like an overly excited puppy and biting his plump bottom lip. “This is the sexiest outfit I have ever seen.” 

You laugh, but there’s a sincerity in his expression that makes you stand a little straighter. 

“But,” he wiggles his eyebrows, “You know where it would look even better?” 

“On your bedroom floor?” You snort.

“No,” he gives you a look of mock shock, “On me. It would look better on me, but you need to take it off first.” 

You chuckle, “You’re so silly.” 

“You love it… I hope?” 

“I love it.” You reassure him and stroke his cheek. 

He kisses your wrist, nuzzling into your touch and sighing happily. Slowly he inches closer, once again wrapping his arms around you, “Come to bed with me?” He poked out his bottom lip and blinks rapidly. 

“Stop,” you try to groan but can’t stop the fit of giggle the expression causes. You gently push at his cheek. “That face is terrible.”

He blinks harder. 

“Cec!” You shake your head grinning and he leans forward kissing you deeply and slipping his tongue past your lips. 

The way he softly leads you upstairs somehow feels so uncharacteristically characteristic, sweet and caring despite the raging boner he’s sporting. He barely takes his lips off your skin and you're a little surprised he doesn’t fall up the steps in the process. 

His room is suspiciously tidy, and freshly vacuumed, which makes you smile. However, you don’t get very long to admire it before Cecil pulls you towards the bed, his hands sliding greedily under your top and groaning when he realises you're not wearing a bra. 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He helps you out of it quickly and sits on the edge of the bed. He palms your breasts eagerly, staring like he’d just found the holy grail before he gently kisses them, sucking one nipple into his mouth and then the other. 

Your breathing hitches as you lean into him, lightly arching your back and sinking your fingers into his hair. 

“Shit, Cecil…” You swallow and he groans, whining softly as he sucks. Pleasure twists and sparks down to your core, settling in a deep untenable ache that you crave for him to soothe. 

He laps at your right breast with the flat of his tongue as he hooks his fingers under your waistband and pulls the rest of your clothing down. 

Slowly he pulls back, holding your hands as he helps to steady you as you step out of your pyjamas. His eyes are lidded, glazed with arousal as he takes you in and squeezes his balls to just take the edge off. 

He groans lowly, saliva shining on his lips as he looks up at you with those big doe eyes. “Come and sit on my face?” Cecil shuffles back fully onto the bed, laying down with his head propped with pillows before he gives you a sweet, beseeching look. 

You nod, climbing after him. Despite having been in a similar position before a sense of anxiety drapes along your skin, the times previously were rushed or accidental, things that you could argue were casual. The unplannedness of this should add to that. Should mean nothing. 

He runs his hands up your thighs eagerly as you settle into position, urging you to partially suffocate him with your core. 

He hums, licking his lips eagerly as he looks up at you and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this happy before. 

Lightly, he tugs at your hips, pulling you closer and darting out his tongue to swipe the tip through your folds and circle your clit. “God, you taste so good.” He groans and repeats the movement with the broad flat of his tongue.

You gasp, grabbing hold of his headboard to steady yourself as he keeps licking, in long steady strokes. 

“Fuck, just use me please.” He mutters, sucking on your clit and pulling you down against him completely. He moans when you do, echoing your sound of pleasure with his. 

For a split second you forget how to move, so overwhelmed with the sensation of his thick, warm tongue. But then he grips your hips and rocks you slightly, encouraging you to find your own rhythm. 

Expletives fall out of your mouth, mixed with his name like a prayer as you grind against him, your thighs shivering and muscles tensing as you chase your peak. 

Cecil moans, slurping at your slick and pulling you closer with every circle of your hips. His balls tighten, the sounds of your cries and heavy breathing settle in the base of his spine. His eyes roll back as the pressure at the root of his cock builds, he squirms his legs, desperately thrusting upwards into nothing as he searches mindlessly for relief. 

He flicks the tip of his tongue, trying to slip deeper inside and curling until you scream, the sensation paralysing you with pleasure. You hang onto the headboard as it washes over you, leaving you weak and shaky as you breathe hard. 

Awkwardly you move back off him, worried that you might have cut off his air supply. 

“Oh fuck,” Cecil whines, breathing as heavily as you were, he looks at you and smiles. “I nearly came too, fuck. God, you sound so fucking sexy when you come, taste so good too.” He climbs over to you, kissing your cheeks and neck and pushing his face in between your breasts and breathing deeply. 

“You wanna fuck? Or you wanna nap?” He gives you a sweet look, and you’re very sure he would be content to wrap you in blankets and snuggle up for the night if you said the latter. 

“Fuck please.” You grin when he beams, excitement plastering his features. 

“I’m warning you,” he jumps out of bed and riffles through his side table drawers. “I’m not gonna just plough you.”

You snort. “Ever the romantic.” 

“No, I mean,” he grins, running a hand through his hair. “No, I mean, I’m probably gonna last less than a second if I just try to do the normal routine, you’re just so pretty and hot and I know you’re gonna feel so nice.” He whines a little at the end and shakes his head, “sorry, I, I’m gonna try not to just,” he mimics an explosion and you giggle. 

“If you gotta you gotta, you know I’ve been with guys who didn’t even try to get me off beforehand, so.” 

He pulls a face, “Where’s the fun in that?” 

You shrug. 

He finds what he was looking for in the drawer and climbs back onto the bed. “Those guys suck.” He unwraps the condom with his teeth and slides it onto himself before he fiddles with something in his hands. It’s small and metal and you don’t realise what it is until he switches it on and it buzzes into life.

“Why do you have a bullet vibrator?” You laugh. 

“For this.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows at you as he settles between your thighs and notches his cock at your entrance. He pauses, biting his lip, his eyes darting up from your pussy to your face. “Is this okay?”

He waits for you to nod, giving you the most brilliant smile before he slowly pushes in.

“Ohhh shiiiiiiiit,” he groans, inching in and then pausing to gather himself before he continues. He swallows and circles your clit with his thumb, the lube from the condom mixing with your slick, before he presses the vibrator to your bundle of nerves. He moves it lightly, mirroring the pattern he drew with his fingers seconds before.

He gasps when you jump, “Oh, fuck, maybe a bad idea? I can feel the vibrations through you and you're squeezing me so hard.” He whines at the end. 

You swallow, little moans escaping your lips as he finally pushes completely inside. You’d underestimated how thick he’d feel, how he’d stretch you so perfectly. The pleasure is so high it’s almost to the point of pain. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” he breathes hard, shifting a little to get comfortable. “Gonna make you come again, yeah? Please?” 

“Cecil,” you whine, rocking softly against him as the vibrator sends shivers through your nerves. 

“Can I?” 

You nod, “Please, please, please. Need you to, just move.” You buck against him and he hisses. 

“No, no, no, we're just gonna stay like this and,” he shifts, leaning down so he can kiss you, one hand awkwardly pressed between your bodies to keep the vibrator in place. 

He slips his tongue into your mouth greedily, drinking down your moans as he rolls his hips, barely pulling out. 

You grab onto him for dear life, tugging at his shoulders as you move with him, matching his hypnotising pace. 

Sweat beads and slides between your bodies as each of your movements start to grow more frantic and desperate. 

He rolls his hips and the way he drags and presses against you hits a spot inside that sends a jolt of electricity through your limbs. 

Your cry is muffled by his lips, but still powerful. 

Cecil gasps, his spine arching. “Oh, fuck, fuck, that good?” He bites his lip, his brow pinched together in concentration as he focuses on repeating his thrust perfectly. 

You grab at him, unable to form words as he hits it again, suffocating in the sensation. 

“God, that's good, right? You’re, fuck, you’re fucking pulsating around me, oh!” He groans, snapping his hips, unable to hold himself back any longer. 

He whines, low and needy as he thrusts, rapidly, your name falling from his lips with every breath. “I can't, I can't, I can't-”

You tense, your head thrown back in a silent scream as your orgasm rips along your spine leaving only ashes in its wake. 

Cecil groans, high-pitched as you tense and spasm around him. It barely takes him a second to follow you, spilling violently in the condom. 

He collapses on top of you, blinking hard and then struggling to get off you, “Sorry, sorry, sor-”

You grab him by the back of the neck and pull him into a long, sweet kiss. 

He sighs happily, relaxing against you. “That was really nice.” He mumbles. “Can I make you pancakes in the morning?”

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

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[doyoulikethis-robloxgameost]

✦Masterpost!✦

hi there! Uh. I'm Mod Jam! And this is Do You Like this Roblox Game OST? Inspired by multiple "Do you Know/Like This X" poll blogs, such as @doyoulikethis-videogame-song and @i-just-give-you-the-vidya-songs!

This blog as the name suggests, is a poll blog about OSTs made for various Roblox games! Mostly done out of appreciation (and uh. slight , obsession.) of Roblox games and it's music!

dni transphobes, homophobes, racists, and the like!

Submission forms are closed! It will open again around mid to late June!

List of songs!

Open V read more V for more info!

✦. What would the polls be formatted as?

Go here to see a sample of what it would look like during and after voting! (this one is mostly for helping me lol)

✦. Are we allowed to submit songs in asks?

No! Anything that isn't an ask will be ignored! We have a submission form for that! The ask box is for asking questions about and giving suggestions for the blog!

✦. What's the schedule for the polls?

I'm planning 6 per week! 3 on Saturday and 3 on Wednesday! But that may change depending on the amount of songs I get from submissions. The polls are going to be open for voting for a week and are scheduled to be posted on 4 am GMT+8. Song reveals are also going to be posted a few minutes after the new polls are posted!

✦. How long are you going to keep submissions open? (check the next question after this one too!!)

I'll try to keep it open up to a week or two! Or until I reach like, maybe 30-60 songs if it passes that timeframe? Which isn't much but I'm just setting a low bar, that and I don't want to to overwhelm my self too since it's my first time doing something like this and I have a bunch of other stuff going on outside of it

✦. How frequent are you going to open submissions?

I expect to open it every month or every other month or so? I'll open it when I have around 15~12 songs left in queue! I'll make a heads-up post a day or two before I open it again!!

✦. Can I submit [game]'s entire OST? (check the question after this one too please!)

uh. Even if I, too, like the game, I would prefer if you do not, I would like to diversify the tracks you'd hear here, and getting like, 5 songs in a row from the same game might make the blog feel stagnant, especially since I'm planning to post only 6 songs a week. Refrain from sending more than one song per game and save it for the next time I open submissions! It makes the chances of OSTs from more obscure games appearing much easier! It's also kinda unnecessary since it's very likely for me to open submissions frequently. You're free to send as many songs as you want BTW! As long as each one are not from the same game!!

✦. Am I allowed to submit a song that's been submitted before?

At the current moment, and generally just like any poll blogs like this one, no! sorry about that <[⋇_-;]> it's another reason why I would not want people to send a game's entire ost. As there might be no more of that game to appear here. Check the list to see if your song's been posted already!!

✦. Am I allowed to spoil the song's name/source game/composer?

No! It's part of the fun if you don't know! But if you really want to know, at least do it in ciphers or dms with one another! Vague hints or references are fine though, as long as it isn't obvious.

✦. Who's the goober up there in the image?

meeeeee <[⋇⩊^]>

More info and maybe even a directory for other stuff will be added in the future!

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Busted

First posted: October 15, 2019

Focuses on: Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake

Favorite bookmark: "Injured Baby Tim and Bruce acting like the emotional stunted baby that we know is all a front"

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

Before we start, I just want to say the double meanings behind the titles for this fic and its sequel are my faaaaaaaavorite. I love tricksy titles.

This fic was inspired by this post from @bowditch and a subsequent Discord conversation about real bodily consequences for Tim and how Bruce actually could have reacted to it all.

Every time I start to read this fic again, I hear Rex Harrison from My Fair Lady singing, "I've grown accustomed to her looks, accustomed... to her... face."

That morning he had woken groggy-headed and sore, hip still twinging from the fall and sudden stop. But for all the static in his head, Bruce had felt better than he had in a while. A side effect of going to bed before the sun for once, he supposed. The lemon and poppy seed muffins waiting on the kitchen counter had been a tacit reward from Alfred and one Bruce has indulged in with pleasure. He had curled up in the sunroom, a blanket thrown across his legs and a heating pack on his hip, a mug of coffee and two muffins balanced on the side table and case files spread about him on the chaise, interwoven with newspapers and other correspondence. For Bruce, it counted as a lazy morning. The afternoon continued in much the same way. He attended to his stretches and standard workout, careful to work the hip but not overexert it. He saw to paperwork from Wayne Enterprises, analytics from the downstairs computer, and reports from the League.

Here are those logistical and practical details I like to sort out. First there's the seeding in the important physical sensations that hint to a plot point later on, but then the rest of the intro is about 1) building out Bruce's emotional landscape and 2) looking at what does a nice morning actually look like for Bruce Wayne?

It was fun for me to lay out those details and then, within the structure of that seemingly perfect day, spool out what the real problem was. Since the fic was from Bruce's perspective, I could sprinkle in hints, but it couldn't be explicitly laid out for the readers until Bruce knew what was going on. (All narrators are unreliable! What a treat!)

Bruce looked down and adjusted the cuffs of his gauntlets. “You said Robin checked in last night?” He had already asked the same question this morning and received the same affirmation Alfred was giving him now. He had also come down and seen for himself the Robin costume neatly hung in its locker. It had been a dereliction of duty to leave the night’s clean-up to the boy, despite how sensible and prompted by need the choice had been. Guilt had hounded Bruce once he had awoken and perhaps that was what bothered him now. Guilt that he had taken his decrepit carcass back to the Manor to rest and had left a child to tote evidence to the commissioner, no matter the ease and relative safety of the task. Robin is fine. He made it back. He’s fine.

And this is something I find fascinating with Bruce at this point in his life, the inconsistencies and contradictions of him. Bruce is hyper-aware of how dangerous being Robin is. Bruce doesn't feel like he can take a paternal interest in Tim and therefore keeps him at arm's length. Bruce cares and is a responsible adult. Bruce can't be allowed to really realize Tim has been missing all day. There's no way Bruce wouldn't have checked in to make sure that kid made it home safely, verifiably so.

A puzzle for meeeeee.

Patrol was quiet. Tim wasn’t chatty like Dick or full of sly asides like… but he was good about asking questions. He wanted to know and understand, and he had a knack for intuiting when Bruce needed to be pushed outside his own head. There was none of that tonight.

Another fun little practical puzzle. Any time I get to compare Bruce's kids, I have to find a way to make them distinct from each other without reducing them to oppositional stereotypes, either in how they truly are or in how Bruce perceives them.

Patrol ended early, the night not full enough to support a full deck of stalling. Bruce went to bed, for once unbruised and without dangling loose ends. He found it hard to sleep.

It's funny because Bruce's entire Tim-less day is better, objectively, than his usual days, beginning to end. But also very much not specifically because it's Tim-less.

The pastries were still there long into the afternoon, after all the school buses had flung out across Gotham and began reeling back in to release their drivers.

I just really like this metaphor and wanted to highlight it here, because it's visually how I see the buses on their routes.

Robin wasn’t even something Tim wanted. He had said so, to Bruce’s face even. What he wanted was to take care of Bruce, and wasn’t that just the most backward thing? He was a child. He had no business being on the streets, no business wearing the mask, no business trying to make Bruce’s health and well-being his burden to carry.

Ha. Burden to carry. That's an accidental joke and foreshadowing all rolled into one. But also Bruce being keenly aware of the weird role Tim wormed his way into is The Best.

Bruce had tried to chase him off, as much as Alfred’s watchful eye and his own yawning need would let him.

Tim was not wanted!! But he was needed so badly!! And then it circles BACK around to wanting and neither of them will admit it!!

He told himself as he turned to point out movement to watchful eyes that weren’t there or slip a sprinkle of gummy bears into a hand that wasn’t outstretched. Bruce had thought himself silent on patrol, an unwelcoming sphinx. Turned out he talked more than even he realized, if one could base it on the number of words he choked back that night, stillborn and unheard.

This thouuuuuuuuugh. We are often unreliable observers of ourselves. Bruce might be grim-faced and stony and silent on patrol compared to who he used to be with Dick and Jason, but he's not as much as he thinks he is. Tim's presence CHANGES him.

There was no reason for Batman to be skulking outside the home of Jack and Janet Drake, never mind that their car was gone. No, scratch that, them being gone made it worse, because it meant he, a grown man of possibly cryptic status but a grown man nevertheless, was hiding outside the window of a teenage boy.

Again, Bruce being acutely aware of how weird this all is is important to me. 😂

It was very subtle physical humor on my part, making Tim fall to the floor in surprise and clutch his chest. It absolutely killed as a pratfall on the TV in my head.

He was standing with bare feet and a bare torso, the knobs of his spine visible and shadowed in the dim light of the room. Tim always looked small, but he looked smaller now, bent and lumpy with the added ice packs.

:) bare feet :) I'm sure that's not triggering at all :)

Really, Tim? Duct tape? Bruce could just picture Tim getting himself into a scrape at school or on an escapade of his own and then trying to patch himself up without his parents noticing. Heaven save him from the conceits of teen boys.

Tim is so smart and also so dumb.

“This isn’t recent.” Bruce could hear his own voice from far away, as cold and unyielding as the Gotham harbor in winter. “It i—“ Tim began, but Bruce cut him off.

Tim Drake well-actually's at the worst possible times.

“How could you be so stupid?” Bruce seethed, voice still low but as venomous as a snakebite.

Bruce having an understandable, justifiable but also difficult to experience crash-out was so so important to me for this one.

A speech impediment, Bruce recalled from Tim’s stolen medical records. A mild one, worked out of him before he reached middle school, but one that could still appear in times of stress.

I should bring this little headcanon back. I don't know why I haven't. (Because I forgot about it.)

Bruce looked to the bedroom door, remembering the dark windows, the empty driveway, the stillness of the house.

Bruce: I am going to murder this child

Bruce: but not before I get to his parents first

Except for all of it, it wasn't a bad plan.

This, according to my comments, was the winning line of the entire fic.

Again the fire roared. Tim had parents, living, breathing parents, so why weren’t they here? Their son ran wild in Gotham’s streets and they knew nothing. He broke himself in service to Bruce, and they weren’t even here to rain down the hellfire that Bruce deserved. How could they have a son and not be here to care for him? If Tim were Bruce’s— No.

an aaaaaaabsolute crashout

I wish these brain dumps were more clinically educational. I'm really picky about my word choices and syntax rhythms etc. etc. but in an intuitive way? So it can be hard for me to stop and point out where a choice was really, really deliberate because odds are it was deliberate on a more subconscious level.

[gr8ntaire]

☕️ isle of man tt ? 👀

FASCINATES MEEEEEE honestly I’ve told you this before I fear but when I got into bike racing I told myself I was gonna stay away from the tt because honestly I know myself well enough to know it’d mess with me but uh. then I accidentally found out Michael Dunlop exists and was IMMEDIATELY fascinated. I’ve never heard anything as insane and amazing as winning a race after ur dad dies, doing it in honour of him and so on [posters note here to say if anyone reads this and doesn’t know the story pls go read a version of it that isn’t just me referencing it LOL] like…..I’ve heard/reread that story multiple times since the first time and every time I just…….i have no words for it…..then I found out about many other names (joey dunlop himself!) and now I’m just, look I totally understand why everyone who loves the TT is so dedicated to it like it just inspires that kind of feeling. Of course the TT is incredibly serious and so on so I don’t want to sound like I’m diminishing that aspect but honestly to me it does kind of feel like….almost magic? Or at least mystical. I think it’s a similar thing w how I said that the dunlops have all this mythos around them, too, right? Like I guess because I can’t imagine doing something like that my head understands it through myth and story and such. Incrediblyyyyyy beautiful place, too. Like idk I guess the whole thing just inspires such awe for me. I’m in awe of the riders and also the place. I love that it becomes like this massive….cultural point for people. I also rlly like about it that it’s suuuuch a different skill to short circuits (obvs) so u get all these different types of people riding it with different skills and ways of riding and all these super interesting characters that makes it even more intriguing to follow. Also I always say bike racing is the sport that will never love u back lol and I feel like the TT is the ultimate for this. I respect it a lot (this part has always been true tho I was just wary before) and now I love it too, I hope I get to watch it irl one day even tho that’s a crazy dream haha.

(Also I do think a lot of people in some ways would benefit/learn a lot from following the TT just from how different it is to most races, I understand why people don’t but yk, maybe they should)

(thank youuuu <3)

[tumble-witch]

When are you planing to start releasing chapters of bread girl au? I love this au end I know it will be great but the waiting is killing meeeeee

It's killing me too lmao

Look. Imma be real. Ya girl has severe ADHD, unmedicated, rawdogging the art experience and life in general. Unless it's paid work, I'm gonna suck at consistency

I've been working on the villain comic for a loooonnnggg time now because I started making it in colour and want to introduce the villain with a bang. The whole thing in an enormous mess of layers now, but it's finally getting near the finish line

And Valentine's day comic was started at 11 pm, I finished 95% of it and went to bed at 6 am

But! I had fun staying up all night, I'm having fun finishing the villain comic, doing bits and pieces of other comics. I absolutely adore this fandom, I love seeing familiar names in my notifications, re-reading positive reactions really inspires me. I haven't made comics before Bread Girl AU at all, so the fact that people wait to see my stuff feels incredible

Thank you for your patience, we're in this together lmao

[tmntxthings]

一Holiday Comps・゜・。

author’s notes: so last weekend me & mine decorated our own gingerbread houses, call me inspired ✨

author’s notes 2.0: *sigh* i couldn’t get this done during xmas, so sad, but i want it OUT of my drafts, totally lost the motivation after Donnie’s 😭 forgive meeeeee

warnings: cursing? competitive nature x10, unedited asf it’s 2:00 am rn :3

—————————————————————————

Leo

Obviously he would be trying really hard. Because if anything suddenly becomes a competition all this turtle is concerned about is being numero uno.

“We should up the stakes a bit. April! You’ll be the judge, anddddd add in stuff to like throw us off our game. Make it harder! Oooh time limit of 40 minutes?”

He’s like adding shit and making things way more complicated than just a, “Oh cool gingerbread house contest? When everyone finishes the judges can decide who wins!”

No! Nope! Not happening. This will be the X-Games of Gingerbread Comps. Glory or death type shiz. So how does this process that he thrust upon the whole gang work? Well let me just say he has no problem abiding by the time set.

But his house looks messy as hell. He had a very hard time getting the roof to stop collapsing and may have looked over at Donnie to see how he got it done. Icing? Everywhere. He has no problem when one of the challenges was to “Switch hands! Use your least dominant,”

Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Though some could argue that it didn’t matter what hand he used, it would have been messy either way. If one challenge was to switch seats and work on a brother’s gingerbread house be ready for a slick sabotage. One that Mikey may not have realized until his own foundation started fumbling, why were the walls caving in?! And what happened to the tree gummies that had been set aside?!

Leo happened, that’s what. Though he is quick to deny and not know the nature of those issues at all. By the end April is video recording to also get Sunita and Cass’s vote. Including Splinter that’s four! One for each turtle if everyone is lucky.

The responses on Leo’s house are making him pace. He can’t stay still as he hears Cass laugh out loud, wondering why the hell his gingerbread man is on the roof. “This one is a bit all over the place but, it’s got personality!” Is the saving comment from Sunita who revives Leo’s confidence in the whole ordeal

In the end I think with the time frame Leo definitely got shit on his house, but it doesn’t look all that pretty, one vote at least!

He’s butt hurt about whoever wins if it’s not him and definitely calls out his brother’s own flaws in their own work. Petty. P-E- to the T-T-Y~!

Donnie

If given an unlimited amount of time, I do believe Donnie would be a real rival in this house decorating competition. First of all he’s good with his hands, precision baby, precision!!! He has the most practice with fiddling around with crazy small parts. Those little sprinkle balls aren’t falling to the floor due to his hands.

Now he may not get a lot of them on, because this turtle will take up a lot of time just getting the foundation of the house perfect. The walls have to be straight! The roof cannot be uneven! April may have to stop him from using outside sources or trying to break the whole model build and go for something more his style.

Once he finishes with that Donnie probably took about 10 minutes alone with it having to be perfect. Icing is up next and oml this may be his downfall. There is so much to secure, and you have to take into account the drying time! The challenges he has no problem with either but they eat up his time completely!!

If April decides to do a bit of trivia, winner gets to penalize whomever he chooses, Donnie is most likely winning those even if April chooses a fair category like Jupiter Jim or Lou Jitsu. Trivia is just Donnie’s jam, and the only way he can get Leo to stop for two minutes or be able to eat one of Raph’s essential pieces like a peppermint decor!

Donnie’s build would be the cleanest, icing looking beautiful! Like touched of snow on the house! But he would hardly have any decorations due to sheer lack of time. He’d have a vote for sure but would get comments like, “It looks pretty simple!” or “This one doesn’t have a doorknob!”

“If I had more time,” would be his immediate come back. Puffing up and feeling defensive because this competition is definitely in his wheelhouse, but Leo of course had to make it to where a genius couldn’t thrive under such terse conditions. Hmph!

I’m sure April’s vote would be for Donnie

Mikey

He’s an artist, artists thrive in silly little gingerbread house competitions. I mean come on he’s the one who has the most creative ideas. Probably the most aesthetically pleasing as well!

But I fear Mikey will lack in the actual house building part. Which is literally just four slabs of gingerbread and the two more for the roof. He’d struggle to get it to stand. He’d struggle to get it to stay still. “Why does it keep MOVING?!” He’d be yelling out his frustration for sure

Even more so when he finally gets everything to stay in place only for one of the challenges to be switch houses. Leo getting his house and while Mikey doesn’t pay too much attention to what Leo is doing, when he gets his gingerbread house back it’s suddenly collapsing again?! He thought he had solved that problem! ACK! “LEO!!!” But no amount of calling his older brother out would change the fact that his house still isn’t put together

When…If he does get it together in time, you best believe he’s rushing to finally get to his favorite part! The decorations! He’s definitely eaten a couple of things without noticing it happening himself. It’s not exactly good candy, but candy is candy!

I think Splinter would vote for Mikey’s even if the house is crumbling, it’s a pretty crumbling house, out of all the brothers I think Mikey would win in a contest that wasn’t rigged by Leo!

Raph

I’m sorry, but he’d eat like half his materials. HE WOULD! So there wouldn’t be a house, maybe a shack if he’s lucky.

And on top of his appetite getting the best of him, everything is pretty darn small, and his fingers are chunky. This activity is just really not made for him but he’s doing his best, okay? His best with what he has left LOL

The hardest part would be decorating since the candy would be the smallest pieces to get on. He’d have icing everywhere, mostly on his fingers to which he would be licking clean, losing more material!!!

“Raph are you even trying???” Leo would goad, feeling that much better about himself and his standing even though he’s not doing much better as we have seen! Raph doesn’t let Leo get to him, he’s happy to just be doing something with the fam! And eating!

I think Cass would vote for this guy’s shack. Probably for some odd reason that I could never guess because she’s such a wild card to me sksksksks