#and decided this one ue

[mokadevs]

supply restock

[byakuyasdarling]

I hate randomly blocking people that follow me for no reason other than “what they draw makes me uncomfortable” because it illustrates a fundamental misunderstanding of MY SCRIMBLO (/lh). I understand it’s simply conjecture, but people who highlight that part of his light novel (a part that was revealed to be a dream and not close to canonicity) bother me a lot.

[starswallowingsea]

okay i also went and made a list of what i remember from my icon and header combos this year so i dont do repeats. thank god maplestory is a big game so i can just constantly do new regions and map bgs and stuff

[kh2prologue]

sick and ridiculous about juniper and orion rn. what if the part of you that i admired most was the part that i was most ashamed of and what if our unwarranted and foolish trust in one another paid dividends despite the fact that it never should have worked out and what if even after i found out what you were really like i tried harder to love you anyway

[internet-overdosed]

i wonder why i’m so stupid and useless lmfao HWAHAGGSGSGSGD

[oletus-manors-log]

Writer's block sucks ;;;

[sturnsbabie]

HEADSET-M.STURNIOLO.

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

pairing: gamerbf!matt x gf!reader

summary: in which matts girlfriend decides to support him under the desk while hes gaming which ends in him fucking her with his headset on.

warnings: swearing, m!recieving, dom!matt, face slapping, degrading, praising, p in v, creampie.

im so inlove with gamer matt

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

i was currently laying on my boyfriends bed as i watched him play his game. he had his headset on talking to his brothers and nate.

he looked so fucking sexy with his headset on, especially when he would get mad at his game and curse and raise his voice.

it was turning me on so much i didn’t realize i was squeezing my thighs together, or the way my core was soaked.

i had a idea pop into my head and i had a small smirk on my face as i got up walking over to matts desk as i got onto my knees sliding myself under the desk.

“whatcha doing baby?” matt asked as he looked at me.

“oh nothing” i giggled as i played with the strings of his sweatpants as i started rubbing him thru his sweats.

he muted his mic as he looked at me. “baby im on the game rightnow.” he said

“you can keep quiet.” i said

he rolled his eyes as he went back to playing his game talking to his brothers and nate.

i pulled his sweats off of him and spat into my hand as i started to coat him with my spit as i jerked him off a bit before i took him into my mouth.

i heard him let out a soft groan as he bit down onto his lip trying to keep his noises muffled so the people on the other side of the headset wouldnt know what was currently going on.

i took him into my mouth as i started to tease his tip swirling my tounge around his slit. i heard whimpers coming from him as he was trying to focus on his game.

i decided to deepthroat him stroking what i couldnt fit into my mouth with my hand. i heard a moan come from him as i started to take him further into my throat.

“matt did you just fucking moan?” nate said thru the headset.

“n-no i bumped my knee on my desk.” he lied as he looked at me as i kept deepthroating him

suddenly he paused the game and muted the mic as he took his headseat off.

he grabbed my hair and stood up as he started to thrust into my mouth. i moaned against him as he was fucking my mouth.

tears ran down my cheeks as he was fucking himself with my mouth. my hands were on his waist for support as i watched him.

he pulled out of my mouth as he grabbed me bending me over his desk. he pulled down my shorts and slapped my ass before he teased me by rubbing his cock against my wet folds.

“if you wanna fucking act like slut who cant wait for me to get off the game then your gonna get fucked like one.” he said as he slammed himself into me as i let out a loud moan.

he reached over and grabbed his headset putting it on me. “since you wanna act like such a fucking whore dont make no fucking noise or they’ll hear how much of a slut you are for my cock.”

slap. he slapped my cheek as he slid his thumb into my mouth as i sucked on it swirling my tongue around it.

he unmuted the mic as he pounded into me as he wrapped his hand around my throat. i held onto his desk as my knuckles were turning white. i bit my lip harshly trying to keep myself from letting out any noises.

i could feel myself clench around him as he kept going deeper and faster. he hit my gspot as i let out a set of whimpers forgetting that i had his headset.

“shut the fuck up you fucking whore.” matt said as ue slapped my cheek once again.

my eyes rolled back as i was in so much pleasure. i loved when matt treated me like a whore. he was soft in bed at times but i liked it when he treated me like a whore the most although soft and sensual sex with him was good too.

he suddenly threw the headset off me not muting it as he pulled out of me picking me up throwing me onto the bed.

he put my legs over his shoulder as he slammed back into me as he pounded into me going deep as he could.

all that could be heard was mixtures of our moans and skin slapping together.

he had one hand around my throat as the other one was gripping my waist as his tip was repeatedly abusing my cervix.

i let out a string of moans “yeah?you like when i fuck you like the whore you are?” he said as he threw his head back in pleasure.

i felt myself clenching around him as i let out another loud moan us not caring who could hear because how good it felt.

“i-im gonna cum” i moaned out as i looked at him.

“hold it.i know you can hold it for me.” he said as he took my legs off his shoulders leaning down to kiss me sloppily.

he kept thrusting into me at a fast pace as we were making out as i wrapped my legs around his waist. i drug my fingernails down his back leaving scratches all over his back.

he pulled away from the kiss as he had his face in the crook of my neck. i felt him twitch inside me as i felt my orgasm growing closer and closer.

“want me to fuck my baby into you yeah?” he groaned as he kept hitting my gspot repeatedly as my legs were shaking.

“f-fuck yes! please matt”i moan out

“gonna fuck my baby into you rightnow pretty girl. youre taking my cock so well you deserve it” he said as he pressed kisses against my neck.

i felt him thrust a few more times before i felt him cumming deep inside of me.

“fuck baby” he moaned as i felt myself cum around his dick.

he thrusted sloppily as he was helping us both come down from our highs.

he pulled out and laid next to me pulling me close to him as he kissed my forehead.

“i love you” he said softly.

“i love you too” i said with a small smile.

we both suddenly heard voices coming from his head set. we looked at eachother as our eyes widened as we realized that his brothers and nate just heard him pounding me.

“they definitely heard everything.” i giggled.

“nick is definitely not gonna let me hear the end of this.” matt laughed.

matt got up off the bed putting his sweats on walking over to his desk putting his headset back on.

“hey.” he said softly as all that could be heard was nick screaming at him from the other side of the headphones.

“matt! did you really just fuck y/n while on the fucking game with us!!!!” nick yelled

“couldnt help it” matt said

“im traumatized!!! i had to hear it from the headset and i heard it when i went to the kitchen to get a snack!” nick ranted

“not my fault i have a sexy girlfriend and couldnt help myself nick. you couldve kicked me off the game.” matt said to his brother as he left the game sitting his headset down coming back over to the bed.

matt pulled me close to him as we both just laid there cuddling eachother.

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

[spanishskulduggery]

Baldur's Gate 3 - Non-binary Translation in Spanish

A while back I had mentioned that when I learned how to change language settings for Baldur's Gate 3, I was curious to learn how they would adapt the non-binary [no binario] option into Spanish since Spanish (like many Romance Languages) is very gendered

What I saw actually surprised me a bit

Usually in game translations with different genders, English tends to treat you as a "they" even though it's usually male or female; and in Spanish most of the lines are gendered, or phrased in a very ambiguous way in translation like speaking of your character as una persona "a person" rather than "he" or "she", or "they"

This is one of the first times I've seen the gender neutral -e endings used in an official setting

-

For the purposes of this, and any future posts on this, I decided I would try to play as a non-binary gnome cleric. I should also mention that when you start up the game in Spanish and you do the character customization, everything starts you with the base word (i.e. masculine by default, or possibly agender but looks masculine)... as in you can choose to be elfo "elf", semielfo "half-elf", humano "human", semiorco "half-orc"... choose between bárbaro "barbarian", mago "wizard", brujo "warlock" and so on

My default character creation screen read gnomo, clérigo for "gnome cleric"

But the way your character is addressed by others is what changes

The first NPC you interact with is "Us" a little brain thing you can choose to help. If you do it calls you "friend":

Nosotros: Somos libres. Tenemos nuestra libertad. amigue Us: We are free. We have our freedom. Friend [nb].

The word used is amigue

For the sake of understanding Spanish grammar, you probably know amigo/a "friend". The G here is a hard G. The gender neutral ending is E... but the combination of GE is pronounced like an H sound in Spanish [la gelatina "gelatin" for example is like "hel-a-ti-na"]. To preserve that hard G sound, you have to add a UE to it... so amigo/a becomes amigue for non-binary

[if you study Spanish this is the exact same grammar you'll see in turning -gar verbs into subjunctive forms; why pagar would turn to pague]

The next person you come across is Lae'zel:

Lae'zel: Tsk'va. No eres une sierve. ¡Vlaakith me bendijo en el día de hoy! Juntes, tal vez podamos sobrevivir. Lae'zel: Tsk'va. You are no thrall [nb]. Vlaakith blessed me today ["on this day of today"; emphatic]. Together [nb plural], we may (yet) survive.

Interestingly, there's first siervo/a meaning "servant" or "serf" or "thrall"

What I found very interesting was that you have une... un and una being "a" are used for indefinite articles; the non-binary form seems to be une

What threw me off though was seeing juntes... now junto/a is "together" [lit. "joined"] but juntes implies a non-binary plural.

I don't know if this is because in Spanish grammar it would imply that non-binary trumps feminine [the way amigos "friends" could be male+female or multiple male, as opposed to amigas "friends" being all female]... or if it's maybe an error or something else; the game treats Lae'zel as a woman in every other regard so I think it's the first one which is a situation I somehow hadn't considered. I had just assumed it would be juntos ...or juntas if you played female

Next I decided to rescue Gale first because he uses a lot of adjectives/professions and I wanted to see what they looked like:

Gale: No serás clérigue por casualidad, ¿verdad? ¿Médique? ¿Cirujane? ¿Increíblemente hábil con una aguja de tejer? Gale: You wouldn't happen to be a cleric, right? A doctor/medic? Surgeon? Unbelievably skilled with a knitting needle?

First is clérigo/a "cleric" being used in non-binary as clérigue. Similarly we have médique which is the non-binary médico/a for "medical doctor"

[just like above C turned to QUE to preserve a hard C/K sound; you'll see this with subjunctive and even preterites of -car verbs... why atacar "to attack" will turn to ataqué "I attacked" and ataque in subjunctive... because CE has a soft S sound in Latin America, and can be lisped in Spain]

And next is cirujane... the word cirujano/a is "surgeon"

Finally important note - hábil being "able" or "skilled" is a unisex adjective, so there is no change in any gender - masculine, feminine, or non-binary

*Note: I did miss it but at some point someone used the article le to describe my character. The el and la "the" are the masculine and feminine definite articles; le is non-binary "the" which still catches me by surprise because it looks French to me

-

I've been told since I made the original post that people have seen the non-binary E ending used in other things, but this was special for me to see. I'm curious how the other gendered languages available treated non-binary options

It was a fun surprise for me, especially for some modern day Spanish linguistics in a VERY big modern game, with non-binary word choices being heavily prominent. It's a bit of a learning experience for me

If I find any more fun examples of NB language being used I'll let y'all know as I go

[beepboopkek]

— Practice makes perfect (F!Reader)

Including: Dr.Ratio x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !!, afab!reader, established relationship, pwp but barely, you call him veritas, cl1t slapp1ng, 0rga$m d3n1al, c0ckwarm1ng, dr is kinda mean, light degradation , kind of left at a cliffhanger?? idk, a little short, reader is doing math w/c: 1.2k a/n: HELLO IM BACK WITH ANOTHER DRABBLE first time writing for someone other than Jing Yuan so sorry if its not that good ue ue ue im still learning </3 anywyas i somehow got to a 100 followers which is both exciting and concerning but yeag hope u guys like this :3 &lt;3 NSFW BELOW THE CUT

“This simply won't do.”

Your boyfriend huffed in annoyance as your shaking hands continued to—(or well, at least tried to)— do the calculations for the question that shined brightly on the tablet resting on the table.

You couldn't decide whether to be mad at him or yourself for the predicament you were in currently.

— Sat prettily on his lap, your feet barely touching the ground and his cock snugly kept to the hilt within the confines of your pussy.

You exhaled shakily, your body shuddering as his fingers that were previously stimulating your clit were now simply resting atop it.

“Another mistake. How disappointing, I excused the last one but, you really are testing my limits now.”

His head was over your shoulder as he tutted and eyed the screen, watching every move you made and deducing what was correct and what was not.

“Maybe, if you'd let me focus I could—” 

– and suddenly, he raised his hand and landed a quick slap right on your clit.

Your body jerked in response as your words got cut off with a gasp.

The doctor's hand came back to rest on your clit, tapping it gently to soothe the pain from the slap. His other hand that was wrapped around your waist gripped you tightly as he leaned forward, pushing his cock at a deeper angle.

“If I hear another one of your remarks, things won't end well for you. Now, focus.”

You exhaled loudly in frustration as you forced your attention back onto the question, lifting the pen and continuing your calculations.

The both of you had been together for several years now, graduating from The University of Veritas Prime together— Your intellect was almost on par with his.

However, what you were doing now, though, was quite… questionable.

See, unlike him, you preferred the simpler life of teaching at a university. Getting into a guild or something of that sort had never really interested you. But, your boyfriend being… Well, The Veritas Ratio— he had his ways of convincing you to at least work on your mathematical skills to improve further the chances of you getting invited to the Intelligentsia Guild from the IPC.

So, he offered a simple solution.

Tutoring. One-on-one, of course.

… Which snapped you back to the current situation- you were dripping onto the chair on which the two of you were seated. The hard planes of his torso snug against your back.

“Another mistake.” His voice was low in your ear and you could almost feel the annoyance dripping from those words alone.

Fuck. You hadn't even registered what you were writing, your brain growing increasingly fuzzy with the way his cock pressed into all your sensitive spots.

He placed another slap on your clit, your body jerking in response as your pussy clenched around his cock.

“Start counting, Let's see how long you can keep up, hm?” 

“V—Veritas, do I really have to do t—”

Your body jerked as he landed another slap to your already tender clit.

“Address me properly.”

“Fuck— I'm sorry–”

You swallowed down your complaints, knowing it would result in only more punishment if you continued.

“That— that was three.”

Veritas smiled against your shoulder before pressing your hips into his and moving you just a little bit… but nowhere near enough. He kissed the shell of your heated ear,

“That's my girl, I knew you could do it.”

You moaned lightly as he drew circles on your frayed clit before giving it a gentle pinch and then taking away the stimulation altogether— Your heated body simmering down into a somewhat uncomfortable yet pleasurable state.

“Come on now, let's continue. You still have the whole test left.” 

You nodded shakily as you lifted the long-forgotten pen and started writing on the tablet.

This was the fourteenth question, sixteen more to go.

You managed to distract yourself enough to finish the question, The only sounds in the room were the quick taps from your pen and the occasional embarrassingly loud squelching noise from you that came as a result of Veritas moving to get more comfortable. As you finished, you waited with bated breath in hopes that he would say something.

“Is it—is it correct?”

Your boyfriend smiled before uttering a yes and leaning his head forward to kiss your cheek gently.

“Not bad… five points. So, you can be good for me, hm?”

Before you could respond, he spoke up again, “Complete the fifteenth question correctly and I'll consider letting you have an orgasm. How does that sound?”

“Please—”

A small pinch to your clit.

“It was a rhetorical question. Continue.”

You nodded numbly as you willed every fiber in your brain to focus on the question. 

Just as you were about to finish the last bit of the question you felt your boyfriend slowly beginning to massage your clit again, his lips attaching to your shoulder and neck— biting, kissing and licking as he pleased.

“Veritas— Aeons– Let me finish this, please.”

You realised your mistake a second too late, though.

Another slap, accompanied by a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you dropped the pen onto the table, your feet flexing as you processed the sudden mix of sensations that went through you.

“Count.”

Yep, you've just about crossed his limit.

“Four.” 

You steadied your breathing again.

A few beats of silence pass by and you finally finish the fifteenth question. Your breathing picked up again as you awaited Veritas’ next move.

“Half an hour. That's how long you took to finish fifteen simple arithmetic questions.”

He did not sound happy.

Before you could defend yourself, He grabbed you by the waist and stood up, setting your upper body on the table as the digital tablet dissipated.

Your feet were off the ground at this angle, meaning that his strength was the only thing keeping you steady on the table.

Veritas pushed himself deeper inside you as you arched your back, draping his larger frame over yours as he leaned down to talk right next to your ear.

“What would people think, hm? An esteemed professor with seven doctoral degrees reduced to a slobbering mess because of me?”

You only whined in response, your brain had long turned into mush— unable to comprehend anything but him. 

Neither you nor Veritas knew how you held on that long.

“Please— Sir– I did what you asked me to do.”

“I asked you to do 30 questions within half an hour. You managed only half of that.”

His voice was neither stern nor soft— just somewhere in between that you could only describe as– Veritas.

“I suppose, though, I did promise you that I'd consider granting you relief.”

Your face lit up at the thought of finally, finally getting your orgasm— The one that you had been denied for the past thirty minutes.

“Oh, such an adorable expression,”

He gathered both your hands and pinned them on your lower back, gripping them with one of his own. Veritas drew his hips back and thrust back in, moving you and the table ahead.

You moaned at the burst of pleasure, finally— “Tell me the answer to number sixteen.” Shallow thrusts that were just shy of where you were most sensitive. Asshole.You took deep breaths. “I don’t— fuck- know the question—” The digital tablet reappeared in front of you, the question glaring back at you as you whined pathetically. You felt the hand on your hip moving down to squeeze the swell of your ass. It was a warning.

Veritas planted his free hand into your hair and tugs, pulling your head back in a firm grip. “Answer me.”… Maybe accepting his offer wasn’t a good idea.

[lookismfanfics]

Hii! Hope you're doing okay. May I request some of the characters accidentally hitting their calm maleReader instead of the enemy and now he's getting a huge bruise on where they hit him? thx u

Idk how many characters I'm allowed to choose so I'm just gonna name a few and you can pick..? 😅

Jake / Vasco / Zack / Jace / Vin Jin / Warren / Megumi / Goo

“𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝!”

Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, not really fluff though, cursing, mentions of balls.

Jake • Vasco • Zack • Jace • Vin • Warren • Megumi • Goo

Hey anon! I’m doing good, thanks for asking! ♡︎ I decided to do everyone you requested because yes 😩 I also changed it up a little with the “enemy” part. Some of them are petty interactions, and others are full-fledged brawls lol.

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ He was focusing a little too hard.

✧ The same mantra kept echoing in Jake’s mind, urging him on: “keep fighting.”

✧ He was just a little caught up in everything, that’s all—

✧ He was absorbed in hearing the definitive crack of his opponents nose, feeling the warm spew of blood that followed a hit to the ribs, seeing the trail of bodies that followed his path

✧ These suckers were really something. There were so many of them, and they had been harassing this area for long enough

✧ Jake had called out to Jerry to ask “Where is he?” But hadn’t gotten a response

✧ Then there’s a rustle behind him

✧ A sneak attack.

✧ Instincts go: 📈

✧ He whips around, just barely seeing the glint of purpose in his opponents eyes

✧ “Jake!”

✧ He feels the warm contact of hitting a cheek. But Jake isn’t stupid and realizes his fatal error

✧ I mean… who would’ve guessed that the opponent would duck?

✧ “Sorry (Y/N)! Where’ve you been-?” He pants

✧ Honestly Jake has never been more ashamed. He did hit him, didn’t he?

✧ (Y/N) doesn’t seem fazed, he just keeps up whatever he was doing. “It’s fine… I’ve just been around.”

✧ The man is hardly panting… damn you (Y/N). You’re attractive even when you aren’t trying…

✧ (That’s what Jake thinks anyways)

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ As soon as the fight is over, Jake runs.

✧ His dress shoes slam against what bare concrete is left, avoiding the piles of unconscious and semi-conscious bodies.

✧ He tries not to panic. He has to play it cool, and not throw a fit.

✧ Eventually, he finds you talking to Brad, nursing your busted fists with your back to him. Jake let’s out a sigh, “Pretty nasty hit you took there.”

✧ A playful smile toys at his lips as he observes you. You turn to him, seemingly unscathed, nodding with a small smile, “Uh, yeah. Nice punch Boss.”

✧ He tries not to let the use of formalities affect him too much. (Inwardly wounded)

✧ “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, this time with a note of concern.

✧ “He thinks he has a concussion, boss,” Brad interrupts, just the hint of a smile intermingled with his serious tone.

✧ You ignore Jake’s slacked jaw and bewildered look, eyeing Brad tiredly, “So much for keeping a secret.”

✧ “You shouldn’t keep secrets from the boss- or your boyfr—”

✧ “(Y/N),” Jake drags his finger beneath your chin, prompting you to turn to him. “Is that tr…ue?”

✧ It’s not the thought of a concussion that made Jake stop.

✧ It’s…

✧ 😰

✧ “Your cheek… is this the one I hit?”

✧ You nod.

✧ “Well uh~ not to worry you but… it’s bruising just a little~” “It’s fine Jake-”

✧ Apparently he didn’t think it was “fine”.

✧ Jakes brows furrow together as he examines you. With the way his eyes darken and his smiles fades, He looks beyond apologetic; it’s as if guilt seeps into his every movement.

✧ “You don’t have to worry about it,” you smile. There’s not even the slightest hint of anxiety in your voice, but it does nothing to reassure Number One of Big Deal.

✧ “Yeah but you know I will,” he smirks half-heartedly, quickly reverting back to his worried face.

✧ He’s never letting it go. Every time he sees the splotch of that massive dark bruise, he feels the urge to apologize.

✧ It’s beyond an inside joke too.

✧ Anyone brings it up jokingly, and his head sags and a shadow runs across his face.

✧ “Sorry about that (Y/N).”

✧ “Jake, it healed months ago.”

𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ Fights like these were becoming more often.

✧ Vasco was adjusting to the oncoming rush of bad guys. He was confident in his abilities. Sure of himself; he was bound to crush them all.

✧ But…

✧ “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

✧ His dark eyes scan the battlefield of boys swinging at each other, searching for one man in particular.

✧ He catches him in his sight. (Y/N).

✧ “Are you almost done—” “Euntae, focus.”

✧ The tone of his voice sends a chill down Vasco’s spine.

✧ The cogs in his brain stop working for a second as he continues fighting on autopilot. He wants to keep an eye on (Y/N). He doesn’t want to loose sight of him.

✧ Vasco feels a harsh smack to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. What was that? His instincts heighten as his body reacts frantically.

✧ He turns to the guy fighting him, readying one of numerous forbidden moves just for him.

✧ Once he sends the guy flying it’s back to looking for (Y/N)-

✧ “Euntae-!”

✧ Smack.

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕

✧ “(Y/N)?! (Y/N) are you okay!? Please wake up!”

✧ Vasco was reduced to a sobbing mess.

✧ You open your eyes, staring at his red face damp with tears. It’s an odd sight- especially since you only fell down a couple of seconds ago.

✧ “Yeah Vasco… I’m fine,” you offer a small smile. Even if it does hurt, you know making a big deal out of nothing would be problematic.

✧ You act calm. Chill. Even a little nonchalant.

✧ Vasco remains crouched on the ground while you dust off your pants, glancing around the parking lot littered with bloodied “bad guys.”

✧ “You’re positive that you’re alright?” He asks slowly, staring at you with concern.

✧ “Yeah. It’ll probably form a bruise at the most,” you reply. You touch your chest, seemingly unfazed.

✧ You feel awful for lying to him. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. It’s sore and laborious to breathe… but you won’t tell him that.

✧ “Sorry.” Vasco says simply.

✧ No one brings it up until you’re undressing at the Burn Knuckles base.

✧ Everyone is slipping out of their jumpsuits and into more comfortable, casual clothes. It smells sweaty and feels humid… but somehow Leon always manages to steal the bathroom before anyone else. (Thankfully)

✧ You listen quietly, offering smiles as Vasco retells a story about him and Jace, obviously awaiting your reaction.

✧ He doesn’t intentionally flaunt his muscles in front of you… but sometimes it seems that way. That’s partially why you like to keep most of your clothes on around him- so he doesn’t start comparing. 😳

✧ “That’s funny~” you reply to one of his stares that begged for your approval. You lift your shirt off over your shoulders, slinging it around your neck as you grab a fresh one.

✧ The room: … You: … You: 🫥

✧ “…What?”

✧ Vasco’s eyes start to gloss over as he frantically grabs your shoulders, examining your bare chest.

✧ “(Y/N)… who hit you?” “I’m sure lots of people did…”

✧ Vasco shakes his head, rubbing his hand across the massive dark splotch that stains your skin. The discolored purple and red resembles a fist… but it doesn’t seem to click to him.

✧ If he means right there… then…. “Probably you.”

✧ You smirk, shaking your head as Vasco stares at you in horror. The bruise doesn’t really bother you- you’re covered in them after today anyway.

✧ Of course you handle his outbursts calmly… reassuring him that you’re not angry.

✧ But he continues, eyes scanning over you for any more bruises that he might’ve given you. “I’m sorry (Y/N)… I didn’t mean for that to happen…”

✧ Vasco: 🥺😰

✧ He apologizes a million times, often quietly and at random. ✧ No- he will not forgive himself.

✧ Yes… he forgets about it for a few weeks before remembering and apologizing all over again.

✧ Jace and the rest of the Burn Knuckles make sure to not ever bring it up again. You also are forced to wear some form of padding under your shirt whenever you get into a fight.

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤

✧ Zack isn’t gonna deny it. That guy is getting on his nerves.

✧ This was supposed to be a hang out with him and (Y/N). They were gonna chill and head to the movies. Maybe do some karaoke later.

✧ Just the two of them. Not even Mira was tagging along today.

✧ But then this guy showed up.

✧ Zack feels himself growing more agitated by the minute. He grits his teeth and looks in the opposite direction, willing himself to calm down.

✧ (Y/N) and him are on a park bench… and this idiot decides to stand behind them and catcall.

✧ “You work out bro~?”

✧ Zack is literally seething. (Y/N) has to put his hand on Zack’s leg to keep him from springing up.

✧ “Do you mind reading between the lines?” (Y/N) asks, flashing his three middle fingers before turning to Zack.

✧ “Wanna go to the theatre early? We could walk around-” he whispers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

✧ Zack is still irked. His brows are knitted together tightly, but he simply shrugs and nods: “Whatever. Let’s just get away from this dunce.”

✧ The dunce, however, seems to really like being annoying. “Can I tag along with you two-?”

✧ “F*ck off,” Zack glares. He starts walking ahead, curling his hands into fists but keeping them shoved firmly in the corners of his pockets.

✧ He keeps his gaze trailed on the ground, trying to cool off. He’d hate to ruin this hang out with (Y/N) even more. So he’ll play it cool and be the bigger man- like Mira tells him to be. It’s hotter that way. ((Y/N) will think so too, right?)

✧ The smirk that spread across his lips disappears in a matter of moments.

✧ “Nice ass-!” The creep calls.

✧ And that’s it. The final straw.

✧ Zack is going for a straight jab. He’d be caught dead before he let someone get away catcalling (Y/N) of all people-

✧ He turns and slams his fist, making direct contact. He can hear the definitive clack of teeth, he watches as he stumbles backwards.

✧ But Zack realizes what he’s done…

✧ “S-Sh*t (Y/N)! What were you doing there-?” (Y/N) nurses his jaw tenderly, glaring. He sighs and turns to the guy, telling him to ‘beat it.’

✧ Zack moves to cup (Y/N)’s cheek, looking frantic. He mumbles ‘idiot’ over and over… but more to himself than anyone.

✧ He knows he’s screwed up big time. He’s insistent on helping (Y/N) walk… even though he isn’t dizzy and he claims his cheek isn’t sore.

✧ He tries to forget about it as they watch the movie… but he can’t. As soon as the lights in the cinema flicker on he scans (Y/N) for any bruising.

✧ “I can’t believe it’s so big…” “I already told you it’s fine.” “But- argh I should beat that guy to a pulp- you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah I’m sure, Zack.”

✧ He’s apologetic- but still an angry boy at heart.

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞

✧ In his defense- Jace is usually pretty good about “self control” and everything.

✧ He’s also pretty good about it reading the atmosphere. He can tell when the mood has turned sour or hostile.

✧ He’s able to “let it go” when there’s a petty misunderstanding. Most of the time.

✧ But today this one guy (Duri…?) is killing him.

✧ He’s been a nuisance for a few weeks now… but The Burn Knuckles never had the heart to tell him off. Even (Y/N) was pretty chill about the guy- and he was usually more fiery than Jace.

✧ But as of right now, Jace stands idly with Woong and (Y/N), listening to whatever BS that guy, Duri Lee, is spewing out.

✧ Woong and (Y/N) are listening boredly as the one-sided conversation turns from childish comparisons to full-fledged insults.

✧ Duri wraps his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder, despite (Y/N) having shrugged him off twice already.

✧ Jace feels awful. He reminds himself of how jealous Johan was back during the One Night scandal. It’s embarrassing knowing that he’s feeling jealousy about… this.

✧ He’s not a jealous person… but Duri really gets on his nerves. If he keeps up his stupid act, his stupidity might spread to Jace… and then he’ll do something stupid.

✧ Even as Duri begins to degrade Jace himself, rambling a bunch of nonsense about how he “isn’t as smart as he looks”, Jace manages to keep it together. He feels a twinge of annoyance and glares, but he doesn’t say anything.

✧ The rest of the Burn Knuckles aren’t buying the bs anyway. So it’s fine.

✧ “Know you place, Duri.”

✧ Jace’s gaze snaps over to (Y/N). Did he hear him correctly? Did (Y/N) finally say something? He feels a small smile winding onto his face-

✧ “I know exactly where my place is!” Duri sputters indignantly. His look of shock is short lived and is soon replaced by a smirk. It’s highly probable that he’ll take a pathetic jab at redemption.

✧ Jace hates the way Duri’s eyes roam over (Y/N). He braces himself for what comes next.

✧ “It should be sweating over you, if you know what I mean.”

✧ Great. Gross.

✧ Jace turns to Duri now, scowling at him, “You wanna say that again? The Burn Knuckles don’t hit on each other, so don’t even think-” “Whatever Jace. Me and him were just gonna do some catching up~”

✧ Duri makes a crude gesture with his hands. He keeps his arm wrapped around (Y/N), who rolls his eyes and glares.

✧ (Y/N) sighs, “Or so you think. You do know that me and Jace are-”

✧ One kick- one harsh smack. Jace doesn’t know what he’s doing- but whatever it is lands Duri facedown on the floor.

✧ He’s startled by his own rashness. Stupidity really is contagious. He frowns down at Duri but doesn’t move anymore. “Like I said. Burn Knuckle members like you aren’t allowed to hit on their superiors.”

✧ He turns to embrace the startled and disappointed stares from Woong and (Y/N) (respectively)

✧ But naturally, Duri needs to have the last word. Like all PTJ small fries, he wants to sign his death certificate a little early.

✧ “That stupid hierarchy is never gonna get you laid,” he grumbles.

✧ Jace turns and throws all his weight into the kick-

✧ Blocked.

✧ (Y/N)…?

✧ (Y/N) has his arms outstretched in a block, giving Jace an unreadable stare. He sighs, releasing the second-in-command’s foot.

✧ “(Y/N)-” “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”

———

✧ Jace is sitting with (Y/N) a little latter. He still feels a pang of frustration when he remembers the little situation… as well as guilt for hitting (Y/N).

✧ (Y/N) rolls up his sleeves, looking over his arms quietly. Based on his eerie calmness, Jace can assume that there’s a pretty large bruise forming.

✧ Despite the knowing of guilt, Jace is a tad bit grateful for the intervention. He knows (Y/N) only stopped him for the sake of his dignity.

✧ “You’re not normally so passive-aggressive,” (Y/N) comments nonchalantly.

✧ “I know… I’m sorry.” Jace rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling a touch of color flare in his cheeks.

✧ He promises to help ice it, and assures (Y/N) that he won’t do anything like that again. He just smiles dryly and waves it off.

✧ “You probably won’t have the need to,” he says.

✧ Jace looks up at him, his fingers still gingerly rubbing around the bruise. “Won’t have to… attack Duri?”

✧ (Y/N) nods, “He p*ssed himself, apparently.”

✧ Jace knows it’s wrong… honest to god he feels bad… but he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.

(I swear I’m sorry this entire thing is a mess. I can’t decide which POV to stick to-)

𝐕𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐧

✧ In his defense, Vin had recently gotten his glasses re-tinted… and so he was having some trouble adjusting.

✧ But it would’ve been nice if he didn’t walk by you in some grubby alleyway. What a nuisance. He just wanted to go home, listen to some rap, and eat his onion rings.

✧ But you… of course… found yourself in a predicament. 😔

✧ “You’re just gonna stand there?” You call, back pressed against the wall as you stare lazily past the punks you apparently offended.

✧ They seem ticked that your attention is suddenly elsewhere.

✧ Vin just stares at you, silent for a moment, before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not my problem.”

✧ “They called me a d*ck-” you call. Although the familiarity of the term has nulled any offended emotions, you’re certain Vin has reserved insulting-you-rights for himself.

✧ “Not my problem,” Vin insists, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

✧ The punks continue to close in on you, throwing insults at the two of you- despite Vin being across the alley. You both ignore them.

✧ “Ah- they also called Mary fat.”

✧ “Still not my problem.”

✧ “They said Duke’s music is better than yours-”

✧ “Did not!”

✧ “And they called your sunglasses ‘gaudy’.”

✧ Which is followed by silence as one of the punks lowers a cigarette bud towards your cheek. You don’t flinch, staring past his shoulder at Vin.

✧ You wait in anticipation for Vin to say something. Anything. You’re so intent on seeing his reaction you hardly notice the burning sensation of the cigarette nearing your skin.

✧ “No they didn’t…” Vin mumbles. He adjusts his stance- and now you’re sure he isn’t going to abandon you.

✧ “Would you freaks shut up?!” The punk rolls his eyes in exasperation, pulling the bud away from your face and turning to Vin.

✧ “Or do you have somethin’ you wanna say too?” The delinquent flicks the cigarette to the side, staring your knight-in-shining-armor up and down reproachfully.

✧ You inwardly moan. Vin has lots of things he wants to say. It’s best not to get him started.

✧ “You talk too much,” Vin answers, and begins strutting forward.

✧ You crack your knuckles, relieved you won’t have to take them all on your own.

✧ “Anyway this is a waste of my time- so let’s just go (Y/N).” He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, not at all prepared for the slap.

✧ Yes. A petty, weak, girlish, slap.

✧ A slap that knocks his sunglasses askew. You freeze.

✧ “Hey,” you call loudly, watching as their heads swivel towards you. “Don’t look at him. Say anything and I-”

✧ The loud noise of bones cracking interrupts you-

✧ Vin goes rampant, giggling and grinning like a school girl. Oh hell. You shrug and get into your own fighting stance. “Well I guess he’ll kick your asses anyways- so nevermind…” you mutter.

✧ Those stupid glasses. Distorting his vision all the time. Even…

✧ In fights.

✧ You feel numbness tingling through your arms as you avoid another swing of your opponents arm. Reaching up with a strike of your own, you manage to punch him in the ribs for a KO.

✧ You’re so focused. Vin is so distracted.

✧ You scan the two other guys already beaten to the ground, and look up to see Vin walking towards you victoriously—

✧ But instead he’s charging you with arms at the ready— “WAIT VIN-!”

✧ He stops mid-swing… but only after he’s felt his skin contact with yours.

✧ The force sends you backwards into the wall. Nausea and dizziness begin bubbling in your body.

✧ You feel your knees buckle and your eyes crossing, and the pounding of your heart is auditable in your ears as you nurse your numb jaw.

✧ Meanwhile Vin just stands there in shock, calling you names while asking insincerely if you’re okay.

✧ “You can’t blame me cuz you were in the way you little sh*t! Ugh… f*ck…” he mutters.

✧ You’re calm while he rambled, but your patience begins to thin as he continues insisting the blame was all on you.

✧ “Vin…” you say calmly. “Would you shut the hell up. If it weren’t for your stupid glasses…”

✧ -He gawks in surprise

✧ “Then I wouldn’t have a concussion. Or a nose bleed,” you snap.

✧ There’s silence. Your face is illuminated by the blue light of your phone as you search for the Urgent Care nearby.

✧ “…That does look pretty bad.” Finally. He has the decency to be a little sincere.

✧ Vin leans in closely, trying to catch your eye. While you avoid eye contact, you are perfectly in tune with his movements.

✧ “I’m taking you to my place,” Vin huffs with a smirk, seemingly trying to redeem himself as he shoves his hands into his pants.

✧ “I thought you didn’t care earlier,” you answer, still scrolling on your phone. Only half-listening.

✧ Then his bulky arm wraps around your torso, and he scoops you over his shoulder.

✧ ‼️

✧ Not good for the nausea or dizziness.

✧ But anyway…he did carry you to the Urgent Care…

✧ Where he blatantly denies bruising you up, and even laughs a little. (Okay- he does feel a little guilty…)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧

✧ “(Y/N)-” “I’m not closing my eyes.”

✧ There’s no way you’re letting Warren take them all by himself.

✧ It’s just not happening.

✧ He seems to know. He’s fine with you fighting, as long as he isn’t there to worry over you. He can’t get over the urge to intervene and protect you until the fight is over. That’s always been the case.

✧ “You let Eli fight,” you remind him, turning to face away from him and towards the crowd of delinquents. “You’re not (Eli. That’s) different.”

✧ You’re not different than Eli? Well then, you’ll take that as a yes… even if you do inwardly know what he was trying to say.

✧ Your shoes slap against the floor as you walk through puddles of water. The day is overcast, just like Warren’s mood.

✧ Soon enough the blood mixes with the water.

✧ The man spits out a tooth as you throw an elbow into his jaw. Your clenched fists shake like leaves as you deliver a kick into his back.

✧ It’s loud- but you can’t even hear the shouts of grunts of the fight…

✧ Just the ringing in your ears. The adrenaline pump doesn’t help… it just gives you endurance and an animalistic will to withstand the blows. It doesn’t help you make decisions, or strike properly.

✧ “Warren-!” You feel your heart beating in your ears.

✧ Warren is smart in his own way. But once his mind is shrouded with concern, he’ll do anything to plow a path straight to you.

✧ Oh? You were just trying to draw his attention to the guy making a lame attempt at a “sneak attack?”

✧ Nevermind then…

✧ But as it starts winding down and all that’s left are the decently-difficult fighters… Warren feels his heart lurching out of his chest.

✧ “Gotta help (Y/N)…” he thinks to himself. And the thought replays. Over and over. “The mighty Warren Chae won’t let him get hurt...”

✧ (Y/N)…. (Y/N)….

✧ You….

✧ “You-!?” Slam

✧ Warren didn’t mean to loose focus and body slam you into the wall— but he did—

✧ “You’re…(good?I didn’t see you) in the way! (Sorry!)” His words slur thickly and he skips a few while he’s at it.

✧ Your vision feels fuzzy. Your body feels hot as he presses his rough hands against your neck. But as your heartbeat slows back to normal, and the adrenaline boost wears off, you come to face reality.

✧ The fight isn’t over.

✧ “I’m fine Warren,” you assure him calmly. “But don’t get distracted-”

✧ “Then listen to me,” he says firmly. Ignoring the oncoming kick directed at him, he leans (down/up) towards you. “Close your eyes.”

✧ He forces your body into a sitting position on the ground. Your hands shake slightly as you hold your sore shoulder. Your eyes are squeezed shut.

✧ You keep quiet and try to block out the disturbing noises. Shouts of agony, the snapping of bones. It doesn’t bother you as much when you’re fighting together… but knowing Warren is going rampant makes you uneasy.

✧ “Okay… open your (eyes).”

✧ Warren is already kneeling beside you, brushing his calloused hands around your torso to (take off your jacket and) lift off your shirt.

✧ You feel the cold slap of breeze against your skin 💨 👋

✧ Warren’s droopy eyes look a mixture of sad-dog and irritated-cat. How could he mistake you for the enemy?

✧ Guilty… frustrated… concerned.

✧ He rubs his rough palm against your shoulder. His thumb pad traces circles around the large bruise that’s forming.

✧ The longer you sit there, the darker the bruise seems. And it’s making Warren a little paranoid.

✧ “It’s getting worse-” he mumbles.

✧ “I’ll be fine.”

✧ “I’ll treat it back home.”

✧ “Alright… take me to bed I guess.”

✧ “…”

✧ A pause.

✧ “Bed rest. I meant. Not really like that.”

✧ “…I was gonna say. I’m not sure if you’re up for that.”

✧ Yeah. It’s time to shut up.

✧ Is Warren sad? Yes. Guilty? Yup. Frustrated? Very. It’s never happening again. You’ll probably never be allowed throw a punch in his presence ever again.

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢

✧ Magami curls his toes into the sticky martial arts mats that line the floor. Even though it’s night outside, the training room is still illuminated by tube lights overhead.

✧ Practicing his karate, even when the room is empty and less stuffy, still feels constructing in the mask. It’s still not as bad as it is in the arena.

✧ He practices the fluid motion of his kick again.

✧ Then the movement of his strike.

✧ He hears the door creak open. Kenta swears that if Nomen tries to interrupt him with some annoying sh-

✧ A best of silence passes as he distances himself from the sandbag. Maybe it wasn’t Nomen after all.

✧ But then there’s a voice that sounds out-

✧ Magami feels the blood rushing to his face- and without thinking he swings his leg for an ushiro geri-

✧ Slam.

✧ He feels his foot connect with wood, snapping through the barriers and splitting the cypress in half. His pulse remains sickeningly fast as he straightens and turns to face the back.

✧ He was right. It wasn’t Nomen…

✧ Instead, Tanuki - you - stands rigidly behind him, cupping your face and the shattered splinters of wood.

✧ He broke your mask.

✧ “It’s just me, Daruma…” you say quietly, still standing stiff and in shock. You stare at him with half of your face naked and exposed while dragging your finger across your damp cheek. Blood. You’re bleeding…

✧ “Don’t get in my way again.” That’s his reply.

✧ His voice is deep and muffled. A better mask for his emotions that’s the actual mask that he wears. You can tell, out of perceptiveness, that he’s a bit flustered.

✧ His brows are drawn together tightly and his lips purse from behind his disguise. He feels his heart hammering in his chest. Why Tanuki…? Of all people.

✧ You tuck your free hand into your pocket, removing the remains of your mask with the other with calm precision, nodding understandingly.

✧ “I was coming to tell you how late it was,” you drawl.

✧ This is why Kenta thinks you can be an annoying prick. You stand there in such a relaxed pose, voice drawing reactions out of Kenta he has no control over.

✧ His eyes are wandering. Tanuki (you) was always more appealing to Kenta than the others, to an extent.

✧ “How late is it?” He asks.

✧Tanuki wasn’t as annoying as Nomen, and he carried a conversation better than Hyottoko. Hanyya was always accompanied by Nomen, so that was a no-go. And Tanuki was much less obnoxious than Shiba Inu.

✧ “The circus is starting in an hour. It’s that late.”

✧ His eyes wandered up from your dress shoes, your suit pants… and flickered over that iconic, unmistakable bulge that earned you the Tanuki alias; across his chest and up to your cheek.

✧ Kenta’s attention was fixated on your cheek. With the mask no longer covering your face, he could see your features for the - third time?

✧ And your cheek, he notices, is bleeding.

✧ “You’re gonna form a bad bruise if you don’t ice that,” he remarks all of a sudden.

✧ He moves to unbutton his suit and change into the convict clothes. Keeping his focus away from you.

✧ “Oh…” you murmur from behind him. Even without looking, Kenta knows you’ve begun touching your cheek gingerly again. “Well it doesn’t matter. It’s always covered up anyway.”

✧ Kenta doesn’t feel as guilty about it as he does embarrassed. And it’s not really- embarrassment… just- he just feels flustered. Actually, at this point he isn’t sure how he feels.

✧ “Ice it.” This time it’s not a warning, but a command.

✧ “I will… I will. Afterwards. You need help-?”

✧ At this point, Magami is convinced Tanuki could pull off any pose and turn him on. He feels riled up and agitated as you lean to help unfasten a particularly stubborn button.

✧ “…Don’t be a d*ck, Tanuki.”

✧ “‘No thanks’ would’ve sufficed.”

✧ You proceed to unfasten his shirt anyway. Kenta’s face remains impassive, but he won’t deny his gratitude for the mask policy right now 🫣.

✧ He stares at the bloody, darkening splotch on your cheek. Unmistakably the result of his kick. He also notes that you look good without the mask.

✧ Once he slides out of his shirt and into the bright orange one, he brings up his finger to tap harshly against your face.

✧ “Well, ice it soon.”

✧ He starts unfastening his pants. As he bends down, he can’t help but sneak glances at your limp bulge tucked away in your own slacks. He really disgusts himself sometimes. But you’re so damnably attractive, it’s almost annoying.

✧ Rephrase: it is annoying.

✧ You adjust your stance, shifting your weight from leg to leg and crossing your arms. Damn you. Kenta almost chokes.

✧ “Will do,” you chuckle.

✧ “Don’t make me kick you again.”

✧ “Daruma…”

Cough- cough… ☞︎ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

𝐆𝐨𝐨

✧ “Don’t wander off too far boo~”

✧ “Goo…”

✧ You feel a little exasperated. As Goo Kim’s secret friend, you’d think he’d treat you more like an equal. Or at least have confidence in your capabilities.

✧ And how did you end up being singled out as his ‘dearly beloved’ anyway?

✧ As you land another hit on some poor punk’s ribs, you feel your promise ring scrape his skin and draw blood.

✧ So… seeing as you’re wearing that ridiculous price of jewelry… you sort of already know how that story ended.

✧ But it doesn’t matter. You’re tying to stay level-headed as you fight, and your ‘future spouse’ being obnoxious isn’t soothing your nerves.

✧ In fact, you can’t recall a single time fighting with Goo was therapeutic. So I guess this isn’t anything different from the norm.

✧ “What’s for dinner?” You ask boredly. You sink into your toes and dodge a wild swing, kicking the kid in the gut.

✧ “Whatever you feel like babe!” Goo replies energetically as he finishes bashing in some heads.

✧ “I could go for some bird meat,” you muse quietly as a new onrush of guys heads your way. It’s a wonder than Goo hears you.

✧ “Ooh- okay! How about chicken?”

✧ “Pass. Turkey?”

✧ Goo swings a crowbar around expertly, a more focused expression on his features. He takes a moment to reply. “Nah… I hate the flavor.”

✧ “Okay, how about-”

✧ “Duck!”

✧ Whack.

✧ “…Or just… embrace it I guess. You look hot either way, babe.”

✧ “Kim… remember our conversation about clear communication?”

✧ “Uh huh? But I did warn ya!” “We were literally talking about birds.”

✧ You snap a guys wrist without even looking, glaring (up/down) at Goo.

✧ The rest of the fight you ignore him. Your expression remains neutral afterwards as he takes you to the urgent care.

✧ “At least it hit you in the shoulder!”

✧ “Yeah- I wonder where it would’ve hit me if I had ducked.”

✧ “Stop being all calm and angry at me boo! It’s creepy!”

✧ “…Alright. Whatever Goo.”

[tblsomedoodles]

And Last, but not least, Leo!

My sweetheart, baby girl son!

ANYWAYS!

Leo ended up with the Daimyo, probably stumbling through a natural portal or something like that. He basically takes one look at this tiny turtle tot and is like "oh sweet, free child."

Ue, his son, was about the same age as Leo so he figured they'd get along great.

Not so much.

Pretty much since day one, Ue sees Leo as a rival to compete against. It didn't matter what it was; tutors, combat training, board games, Ue had to be better at it than Leo.

it was a very onesided rivalry, with Leo not really understanding why and, therefore, trying not to engage whenever he was being particularly combative. His thought process being "if i don't give him the attention when he's bragging, he won't brag anymore." Which...doesn't work.

Leo reunites with Splinter when he's six.

Splinter gets invited to the battle nexus for the first time, and decides to go, maybe asking people there if they had lead on his sons. The Daimyo singles Splinter out b/c he recognized his fighting style from Hamato Yoshi, and wanted to ask him about it. They talk for a while before both Leo and Ue run into the room for some reason.

Leo recognizes him instantly, calling him by the same name he used when he was tiny (I think he might call him Chichi, which is a Japanese term for father. From what i understand, it's not a term usually used directly at one's father, more if you're talking about them to someone, but it's really cute and, honestly, i doubt Splinter had much of a understanding of Japanese anyways. So he very well could have just picked up that term and went "ah yes. my new turtles sons should be able to pronounce that." and just went with it. it also gives me the vibes of like a rodent chittering, which would be another positive in the 'rat dad should be called this' column. lol)

But yeah, he instantly recognizes splinter and before Splinter can comprehend what is going on, he's got his arms full of a bawling turtle tot son.

After everyone's calmed down, it's essentially decided that Leo will stay with the Daimyo because it's safer for him and means Splinter can keep looking for the other three.

Splinter still comes back to visit quite often, which helps Leo hold onto the memories of his brothers while he waits to be reunited with them.

anyways, that's all the boys now lol. so i'm going to go try to calm down about this fic (i predict i will fail epically. I love them all too much!)

Edit: Links for Donny, Mikey, and Raphael's info dumps

[artists-ally]

I have a Harvey request if you’re taking them! He’s dating an UES socialite who actually cares about the world and people and isn’t the stereotypical aloof type. He tries to buy her a fancy gift (jewelry/bag/whatever) and she tells him to return it and he gets upset. Thank you!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

{Affection} Harvey Specter x Reader

Hey babes!!! Yes I am always taking Harvey requests!!! NGL I had to google what that meant and I hope I did this right 😭 Enjoy!! Title from this song.

Word Count: 1,400

Warnings: language, mild angst, fluff

Tagging: @rosedpetal @bbyanarchist

~~~~~

For the past six months, ever since Harvey closed that deal with Smith and Klein, he has had a crush on their public representative, Yn. She is just… she is so pretty. And damn good at her job. She was responsible for representing his client and spreading word about their business on social media. 

But she was just different from the other upper east side assholes in New York. The way she talked and carried herself was enough to catch Harvey’s eye. 

In the last few weeks she’s been at the firm, trying to renegotiate the deal. Harvey took the opportunity to ask her out. To his surprise, she actually said yes. And their date that night had been lovely. At a quiet, riverfront steakhouse closer to where she lived. It was intimate and was a night filled with laughter. 

But there was just one problem. 

She never kept any of the gifts he gave her.

____

READER POV

I scoffed. Was he serious? The blue Tiffany box sat on my desk, its obnoxious blue bow staring right at me. I flicked open the note.

Yn, maybe these are more your style. See you tonight for dinner – Harvey.

What a shallow dude. Was his ego bruised so badly by my three other rejected gifts that he had to send me a fourth? How did one of the smartest men in the world not get the hint? He was good at his job, at closing deals and stirring up trouble, but he seriously couldn’t accept the fact that I didn’t want any presents?

I just sighed, sliding it in the drawer in my desk until later. 

It was annoying enough when he bought me the first set of earrings, giving them to me on our second date. Way too early for jewelry, for one. Second, what was I supposed to do with them? To me it was nothing but a gesture of utter disrespect. Did my time mean so little to him that all he thought to get me were earrings? 

The watch was way worse. And the necklace with matching earrings was just horrendous. Sure, that does it for some girls, but I am not the type to wear it just to make him happy to see it around my neck. Diamonds and glitter can only do so much.

It was nearing our anniversary and clearly we were still not on the same page. Sure, were they pretty? Yes, but that wasn’t the point. 

After I sent my last email for the day, I wrapped my jacket around my shoulders and headed out of the office, tiny blue box in my hand. 

_____

“Don’t you look lovely,” Harvey grinned, accepting my kiss with more than a little enthusiasm. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I smiled, stepping through the door as he held it open for me. “Thank you.” “Of course.”

We were seated at our regular table immediately, the box, which I had stuffed in my purse now burning a hole through it. I caught Harvey looking at my ears, and anyone else would’ve missed the way his eyes dimmed. 

“Good evening, what can I grab you guys to drink?” The perky waitress asked, flipping open a notepad. 

“Just water for me,” Harvey said, scouring the menu.

“I’ll do an iced tea, no lemon please,” I decided. 

“Okay, I will bring those out for you in a few minutes. Take all the time you need to look at the menus.”

She bounded away and I took a deep breath. Any second now.

Harvey tapped his fingers on the tablecloth. He looked… tense. Then again he always looked tense. But this was a different type of discomfort. 

“You’re not wearing the earrings I gave you.”

Here we go. 

I just sighed, “Look Harvey, I-”

“You don’t have to be condescending.”

I paused. “What?”

“I think you’ve been planning on breaking up with me for a while now so just get it over with.”

I couldn't do anything but blink at him. My brain might’ve actually disconnected from my mouth. “Harvey, where on earth did you get that idea?”

“Well, what the hell else am I supposed to think?” Harvey’s eyes were wide, voice barely below shouting. “You don’t ever want to come to events with me, you’re hardly willing to go on dates. You clearly don’t want any of the gifts I keep giving you since you’ve given every single one of them back over the past few months. But you also won’t tell me what to get you so every time I go shopping, I feel like I’m blind. I have no god damn clue what it is that you like.”

“Because you don’t ask,” I shrugged, looking at the menu again. 

“What are you talking about?”

“If you ever bothered to ask, you’d know the answer."

“Well, I do ask. And every time you give me the same response.”

“Have you ever asked me why?” Harvey just stared at me, brows furrowed together. “As I was trying to say before, it’s not that I don’t think the jewelry is pretty-”

“Then what is it, Yn? Because clearly I am doing something wrong or you’re just fucking with me,” Harvey sighed, and that sad, defeated look crept into his eyes. 

Guess I'm just going to have to be blunt.

“I don’t give a shit for the jewelry,” I said honestly.

“But- but why?” Harvey threw his hands in the air. “It’s some of the best money can buy.”

“Which is precisely why it bores me. You can only say so much with a pair of earrings and a necklace, Harvey. To me, it screams lazy and mindless. Anyone can get anyone a pair of earrings.”

“Well, what do you want? Anklets? Ear cuffs? How about-”

“I want conversation,” I explained, setting down the menu and really taking him in. He was still. “I want good, meaningful conversation. I want thoughtful gifts like a new bookmark or a little porcelain cat you saw in a window and thought it looked like mine so you bought it for me.”

“You don’t have a cat.”

I couldn’t suppress my glare. “That’s not the point. Harvey, I like you a lot. And I do think you’re great, but you aren’t seeing me. You aren’t looking beneath the surface, you’re just going off your past instincts of what girls like. I’m not those girls.

“I am not a complicated person. Surprise visits and late night drives me more to me than anything you could ever buy in a store. I like being spontaneous and going to new places. And before you even think about it, no, I do not mean booking an all exclusive resort in Jamaica and flying first class. I want to go to museums and grab lunch on the way at a little cafe. To discover hidden gems in this city and make actual memories, not collect material ones. 

“I like authenticity. And I don’t know anyone who is more themself than you are, Harvey. That is what I like about you. You are not afraid to show your personality. You are unapologetically yourself, and I love that about you. But you haven't given me the chance to show that side of myself."

Harvey took in a big breath, nodding in understanding. 

“I am looking for something real. For you to really understand me and what makes me happy.”

“I get it, and I’m sorry I never thought of it that way. Most of the women who I’ve dated in the past tend to go for the biggest, boldest, baddest diamond on the shelf. I started getting offended when you kept sending the jewelry back. I couldn’t figure it out no matter how much I thought about what to get next.”

I smiled, reaching for his hand. He placed his fingers in my palm. “I am not a materialistic person. Earrings and necklaces mean nothing to me. Just a piece of sparkly rock that I’ll probably lose at some point. Or break.”

“So what you’re saying is I should just never buy you anything expensive ever again? Perfect, saves me more money to take you on all those vocations you don’t want to go on.” “Oh hush,” I giggled, easing at the sight of his smile. “Not that those things aren’t nice, I just don’t appreciate them the same way others do.”

“I understand,” Harvey said. “So, would you like to get out of here and go do something spontaneous?”

My heart swelled. “I’d love to.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Can I request a one shot with Mordecai Heller x fem!reader and mordecai has had an annoying day of work thanks to serafine and nico. So as soon as ue comes home he decides to fuck readers brains to mush :3

A/n: I do apologize this took me so long and I apologize if it sucks, because i am not sure how i feel about this.

Mordecai could feel the irritation roll off of him in waves, the only thing he wanted to do was to lay down and be left alone.

Slamming the door shut, the man shrugged off his coat, the next came his tie. He would have removed his shirt if it weren't for you standing in his way.

"Not now." The last thing he wanted to do was to take his anger out on you because of those two idiots he had to deal with.

Sighing, you rolled your eyes cupping his cheeks. The swaying of his tail and the twitching of his ears by how irritated he was. "Take a breath and calm down Mordecai, you're going to give yourself a heart attack."

He needed a distraction, he needed to relieve his stress. Pa

"Fuck,” He groaned against your ear as he hovered behind you, his deft fingers are so close to ripping your clothes off your body since he’s desperately need to be inside you.

Letting out a light laugh, you pressed your body into Mordecai's back. "They must have really worked you over of you're swearing."

"Tech."

Glasses nearly slipping off the bridge his nose, he wasn't about to answer you but instead Mordecai firmly yet gently pressed you down to the plush mattress, his hips met your ass, making him grinding sensuously against you. “Let me take care of you. All you need to do is sit still and let me do all the work. Just lay down."

Eyes sliding closed, you took a breath in feeling your skirt rise as you bit back a whimper,as you nodded your head. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Mordecai's eyes darkened with desire as he heard your whimper, it only fueled his desire to possess you even more.

"Good girl," he purred, his voice laced with a mix of dominance and affection. He moved swiftly, his hands roaming over your body, caressing every curve and dip. His fingers trailed down your spine, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake.

He positioned himself at your entrance, teasingly brushing against your slick folds. His voice dropped to a low, seductive whisper. "You're so wet for me already, baby. I love how responsive you are to my touch." With that, he slowly pushed into you, savoring the tightness and warmth that enveloped him.

A groan of pleasure escaped his lips as he began to move, his hips rocking against yours with a steady, controlled rhythm. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he claimed you as his own. Each thrust was powerful, driving deeper and deeper into your core, leaving you gasping and moaning.

Mordecai's lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. His teeth grazed over your pulse point, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from you. "You're mine" he growled possessively, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and dominance. "Mine to fuck, mine to breed. You belong to me."

Doing your best to match his thrust, his name slipped past your lips. You enjoyed seeing this side of him, the way he would just let himself lose control for once since he was so strait laced.

He quickened his pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Pleasure surged through his veins, his cock throbbing inside you as he neared his release. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained with desire.

With one final, powerful thrust, Mordecai pushed you over the edge, his name tumbling from your lips in a breathless cry. He followed suit, his body tensing as he spilled himself deep inside you, marking you as his own. He collapsed against your back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pressed kisses to the nape of your neck.

"I didn't hurt you did I?" Mordecai held you close, his nose nuzzled into your neck. He could himself twitch within you.

Laughing softly you shook your head as you curled your body into his chest. "You did not hurt me Mordecai....so don't worry." You cupped his cheek as he closed his eyes leaning into your palm.

"Thank you."

[may0tuna]

High Society | Prowler!Miles Morales x Reader

Writer's notes: First time writing about Miles Morales. The moment I saw Earth 42, I def got Gotham vibes and I always have this story in mind, I just didn't know which character to use. After watching ATSV, I think Prowler Miles is perfect! Thinking of writing a part 2 maybe? Idk. Also, I feel the need to mention that Miles in this story is aged up (post-college graduate) and looking for his first real job in Earth 42 New York City.

Summary: Rich UES girl meets Miles who was working for a catering company hired by her family for her birthday party.

Read Part 2 and Part 3 here.

You faked niceties throughout the entire evening. You wore a simple and elegant little black dress for tonight's dinner held at one of your family's many townhouses in the Upper East Side. New York City has gone to ruin and crime rates are up especially in the other boroughs, and here they are, the richest and most powerful people in the city having dinner and talking about which wine would go best with whatever type of dish.

Your older brother, one who is set to succeed the family business, is arguing with one of the waiters your family has hired to serve the guests for tonight's event. You rolled your eyes as he has always been so dramatic. You walked towards where he was and scoffed at the idea at how his sudden outburst is probably because of how the butter is too cold.

"The butter is too cold! Can't you tell? Do I have to do everything in this house?" Your brother exclaimed.

"Not everything, just do your part and be the most annoying person under this roof and you'll be fine," you said casually which irritated him even further. You and your brother then had one of those telepathic conversations, one that would end in you giving him a look that says "Walk away or Dad will know about this." He scoffed, put his champagne glass on the tray held by the waiter and sauntered over to the living room to talk to some of the major shareholders at your Dad's company.

"I'm so sorry about him. He was born with a few braincells short," you told the waiter. He had a deadpanned expression and he wore these braids that fall up to just above his shoulder. He wore a black tie suit which was mandatory for the catering service he worked for, which you took a mental note of how it perfectly complemented his broad shoulder and lean body. You can almost tell how his arms are toned through the fabric. He was quite tall too so talking to him means you looking up.

"Don't worry about it," he said. You were disappointed he ended the conversation so quickly but then again, they were most likely not supposed to enagage in too much conversation with the guests. However, you were dying to talk to someone else about anything other than stock prices so you decided to ask the first thing that came to mind.

"I like your braids. Do you wash it?" The moment those words left your mouth, you quickly apologized because you thought it was an ignorant question. Of course he washes it duh. His response was a smirk with some underlying subtext you couldn't quite read.

"Yes, I do wash it," he said and gave a laugh that made you blush.

"There she is! Happy birthday, Y/N!" A distant cousin of yours appeared greeting you whilst giving you a big bear hug. You smiled shyly and thanked them. After a few small talk, they proceeded to look for your father to talk business. You glanced timidly back at the waiter and he was smirking at you.

"What?"

"Nothing. Here I thought you were different but it turns out this extravagant evening dinner is for you." He paused. You were hurt (a bit). You were complaining about this city's problem and it turned out you were a part of it.

"But hey, happy birthday. I'm sure that despite the millions of dollars spent for tonight, you're not gonna end up like your brother." He smiled at you and you smiled back.

"What's your name?" You asked.

"I'm Miles Morales."

[amari-atelier]

Decided to have a shot at redesigning Sumi's PT outfit!

This isn't a "fixing", just a silly design challenge!

More notes (including spoilers) after split!

My main focus was I wanted to try a magician's assistant inspo to match jokers magician? look as well as making her gymnastics inspiration more obvious (I find the wraps on her shoes of her og design kinda get lost and its such a cute idea that I wanted to try and make it more obvious!)

I also think making her purple would just be very fun, especially given her codename! I know why she's designed the way she is, especially since Haru is already purple (but like Ann, Joker and Sophia are all already primarily red soo), and I know why shes named violet, but I think it was kind of a missed opportunity?

Her name is also why I replaced the roses. They aren't exactly violet flowers, but I thought the four petal flower looked cute!

Spoiler note: I personally don't like her completely reverting to the ponytail at the end of her confidant (so much to the point I forgot it happens lmao). While I know it would have meant more resources during development, I would have preferred they gave her at least a slightly different style. I think a bun (I drew a loose low one as tight top ones always hurt my head when I did ballet ue) would be a good choice! Then she can still bring back the ribbon, honoring Kasumi, while still being practical and cute. A low ponytail or a plait could also work, i wore them for dance lessons as a kid, but I'm biased lol. At the very least, I think they should have let her keep the longer side pieces and/or her glasses to differentiate the two after her whole character arc!

Anyways, I might have a go at some of the others in the future, I just had the most ideas for sumi hehe

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

See Me, I See You (m, cold)

I present unto you all: a fic that has nothing to do with the fic I promised weeks ago!!! (sorry) I got some GREAT prompts from that prompt list in my inbox and I used a bunch of them in this fic (mostly anons, but @sniction-fiction and @sneezycold19 both of your prompts are featured in this).

Greyson gets a cold, Elijah catches it...that's pretty much it! No real plot just colds and vibes. Oh, and there's a little bit of ~angst~ thrown in because it's me. I hope you guys enjoy it <3

cw: male, colds, contagion, fevers. 3k-ish words under the cut. Let me know what y'all think!

See Me, I See You

Greyson shifted from foot to foot in the cold of the alleyway, willing Elijah to text him back. He read the text over again for the third time, hoping it sounded nonchalant enough to avoid his boss’s wrath.

heyyy, are you on your way in?

It was already ten in the morning; normally, Elijah was already at the restaurant by now. Normally, his boss wasn’t given the chance to be aware of Greyson’s chronic key-losing issue.

Three minutes passed. His fingers were starting to tingle. Did you leave your gloves wherever you left your fuckin’ keys, moron? Four minutes. Five. C’mon, Elijah, I’m getting desperate.

Finally, at the six minute mark, a text from his boss popped up. I was planning on taking today off. Why, do you need something?

“Fuck,” Greyson muttered, pulling a frozen hand down his face. Of all days, why was today the one Elijah decided to take off?

There was, Greyson decided after a few more freezing minutes pacing the alleyway, nothing to do but tell the truth. Bracing himself for the explosion, Greyson typed out a message. uhhh...kinda. I may or may not have misplaced my keys…

By some sort of stroke of either insanely terrible timing or the worst luck known to man, the minute Greyson pressed the arrow to send his message, a second text from Elijah came through. Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me, Greyson thought, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach as he read the text from his boss.

I caught your fckn cold, so if you need something can it wait til tomorrow?

***

On Saturday, Greyson couldn’t stop sneezing.

“Hh-! HhIGSTHH-ue! HTSHH!” For the third time in an hour, Greyson wrenched into his elbow, away from the prep table. He groaned, annoyed – prepping this tasting menu for twenty was going to take ten times longer than normal if he couldn’t get this shit under control.

“Bless, bless,” Elijah said, distractedly leafing through the inventory papers on his clipboard. “Coming down with something?”

Greyson cleared his throat, pawed at his nose. Shrugged. “Does it matter? It’s Saturday. Not like I could leave if I wanted to.” The chef washed his hands in the sink near their office, sniffling. He trudged back to his prep, checked his watch – ten thirty AM. Matt was scheduled for noon, and Greyson could already taste the cigarette he was going to savor when his sous took over this prep.

“Mmm, snippy,” Elijah said, scribbling something on the inventory sheets. “Must be a pretty bad one.”

“The fuck are you on about?” Greyson asked, sinking his knife back into the yellowtail he was slicing. He sucked in through his nose, again, again, again to keep from contaminating the fish – on the third sniff, he ducked under the table to protect his product. “HGSTHHZUE! Fuck.”

“That cold,” Elijah said, finally looking up from his paperwork. “It must be pretty bad if you’re in such a shit mood.” Greyson’s face colored. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, flipped his boss the bird. Elijah just shrugged.

“Do you want a coffee? Or a tea, or something?” he asked, pushing himself out of his chair and approaching the chef. Greyson had gone back to thinly slicing the hamachi; he didn’t answer. “Hellooo, earth to Grey -”

“HTSHH! Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!” Greyson turned toward Elijah, sneezing into his elbow once more to avoid the fish. Elijah jumped out of the way just in time.

“Christ, warn a guy, won’t you?” he said, checking his outfit for signs of spray. Greyson cleared his throat, put his knife back on the prep table, and slunk to the office in search of a tissue.

“Get outta the splash zone if you don’t want to get wet,” he muttered, blowing his nose and tossing the tissue. “Ndo, I don’t want any coffee or tea. I just want to get this shit done so I can have a cigarette.” The chef washed his hands again, and took his place at the prep table once more. At this point, this won’t be done until next fuckin’ week, he thought, exhausted.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Elijah asked, leaning on the prep table. Greyson deadpanned his boss, hoping the knife in his hand made him look at least a little threatening.

“Do I think what is a good idea?”

“A cigarette.”

“I always think a cigarette is a good idea. Don’t you?”

Elijah shrugged again, eyes trained on the knife Greyson slid through the fish. “I mean, usually. When I’m not sick as hell, absolutely.” The two of them caught eyes then, a challenge. Their stares stayed locked until Greyson was forced to turn away to cough. Elijah made a noise in the back of his throat, a mix between a laugh and a coo of pity.

“Don’t fuckin’ patronize me,” Greyson growled, his voice sticky and rough already. The backs of his eyes burned, his throat felt swollen, and his joints were aching; he wasn’t ready to admit it, but Elijah’s perception was correct. He felt like shit.

“I’m not patronizing you, Chef,” Elijah promised, pulling something out of his back pocket. “C’mon. Take a break.” He waved the pack of cigarettes he’d produced in front of Greyson’s face, motioned toward the back door. “I’ll let you bum one.”

Greyson, too tired to continue the fight, just nodded. “Alright,” he said, untying his apron. “Thangks.”

Elijah took in a deep breath, ready to say something, but instead just sighed. “Don’t mention it.”

***

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Greyson thought as he re-read his boss’s text. If Greyson knew one thing about Elijah, it was this: he’d have to be down bad to take an unscheduled day off of work. And for him to admit to illness, unprompted? The man must have been on his death bed.

Quick as he could, Greyson began typing out a response.

ah, fuck, sorry boss. don’t worry about it, I’ll text matt. sorry to bother you, hope youre ok.

Greyson sent the text, only to be filled with dread all over again when Elijah answered back immediately.

I thought Matt and Mark were doing that off property event in rochester today?

Fucking shit, Greyson thought pressing his head to the freezing cold of the back kitchen door. His mind, mocking, flashed him back to last night; Matt and Mark packing up the company van with food for a Christmas dinner one of their regulars was hosting at his mansion in the country. Greyson had waved them goodbye, told Matt to call him if he had any questions on the dishes they’d decided he’d make. In his panic, Greyson must have blacked it out.

oh, he typed to his boss. yeah, I guess they are. no worries, im sure my keys are in my apartment ill just run back and grab them.

His apartment, both of them knew, was a forty minute train ride from the restaurant. Cooks would begin showing up in forty-five minutes. The pit in Greyson’s stomach grew larger still when the bubbles that signaled Elijah typing popped up and went away, popped up and went away.

Finally, the text they both knew was coming but ate Greyson alive even so: I can stop by and let you in. give me 20 minutes.

***

By Sunday, Greyson was fairly sure he was dying.

First, he was freezing; when he came in at the ass-crack of dawn that morning to prepare for Sunday brunch, Elijah had barely been able to stifle a laugh.

“Um,” his boss said, raising an eyebrow, “what are you, uh… wearing?”

Greyson flashed Elijah a watery glare before his eyes glazed over and he pitched forward into the scarf the was wrapped tightly around his neck. “Hh...hhIGTSZH-ue! ETSCHH-ue! Huh -! hh...hhNGSTHH-ue!” He sniffled and wiped his nose on the wool of the scarf before addressing his boss.

“A scarf,” he said, his voice a low monotone. “I’mb cold.”

Elijah nodded slowly, taking the chef in. His hood was pulled over his long, shaggy, unwashed blond waves; his eyes were red-rimmed, dark-circled, and wet with irritation; the bow under his nose was damp and scarlet from wiping, and none of this was to mention the scarf-turned-tissue that had clearly seen better days. “I think… I think you should go home, Chef,” he said, choosing his words carefully.

Greyson didn’t answer; instead, he turned away to cough into the germ-infested scarf. After a few moments of coughing, her turned back and shook his head. “Brunch,” he rasped, attempting to clear his throat.

“Let’s call Matt in,” Elijah said.

“He’s workigg dinner,” Greyson insisted. Elijah pressed his fingers into his eyes, let out a long sigh.

“I think one day of working double shifts isn’t going to kill him,” Elijah said, giving Greyson a pointed look.

“I’mb ndot making my employees work a double shift whend I’m ndot,” Greyson said. “That’s ndot how I operate.”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, his temper beginning to flare, “you sound absolutely fucking awful. And you can barely stand. How do you plan on prepping and executing brunch when you’re swaying on your feet, hmm?”

There was a silence that stood between them then. It ballooned, filling the kitchen, begging one of them to break it. Finally, Greyson’s body took over; he shuddered, dipped back into his scarf and turned away from Elijah.

“Hh-ETSCHH-ue! HUTSHH-ue! Huh...Hh! Hh...hnnn.” Greyson glanced blearily at the cold fluorescent lights in the kitchen, trying to coax the last sneeze out. “Huh-! hnn...hh, huhhh…”

“For God’s sake, Greyson,” Elijah said, allowing the frustration to seep into his voice. “Would you just fucking snee -”

“HRRRTSHHH-ue!” The last one tore out of the chef, left him dazed and panting, turned into a flurry of wet coughs. Elijah winced, but took a few steps forward and placed a hand on Greyson’s forehead. Greyson didn’t have it in him to stop his boss.

“Wow,” Elijah said, raising his eyebrows as he gently pulled his hand away from Greyson’s head. “That’s some fever you’re sporting, kid.”

Greyson felt his eyes begin to water; he bit the inside of his cheek, looked away, and took in as deep a breath as he could without making himself cough again.

“Mbaybe… maybe we could call Mbatt in for brunch just this once.”

***

The twenty minute wait was excruciating.

To keep warm, and to distract himself, Greyson paced from one side of the alleyway to the other, trying to remember whether he’d noticed signs of Elijah getting sick the evening before. His boss was fairly talented at keeping illnesses under wraps in the beginning stages, but was there really a way he’d gone from fine enough to keep it under wraps to so ill he needed the day off in twelve hours? Greyson thought back to the end of last week, when he’d been hit head-on with the cold from hell his boss was now gifted with; it had moved quickly, sure, but definitely not that quickly.

Elijah had certainly been quiet last night, but that tended to be par for the course when they were busy. It had been extra busy, especially for a Tuesday, so Greyson hadn’t really seen much of Elijah. Guilt coursed through his body, and he pulled out his phone once again to text Matt and Mark in a group chat.

hey, guys. hope you’re ready for your event tonight, can’t wait to hear about it. random question for both of u: did elijah seem alright to you both last night?

The wait for a text back wasn’t long; the two younger managers were clearly bored. With several hours to go until their dinner and everything pre-prepped, they were most likely just hanging out on their phones in the spare bedroom they were staying in.

are you serious? Matt’s text came through first. Then, a moment after, one from Mark.

I mean...if by ‘alright’ you mean pissed off and sick then ya I guess lmao.

Greyson’s heartbeat thumped in his ears. He typed back quickly, pointedly. he was sick last night?

chef, u really had the blinders on big time last night lol, Matt texted back.

Which makes sense, it was busy! Mark’s text said, an attempt to cushion the blow. But ya he was for sure coming down with something. Is he ok today?

Before he could type out a response, Elijah’s car turned into the alleyway. Greyson put his phone away and waved, guilty. Time to face the music.

***

Monday, thankfully, was like a salve to Sunday’s burn.

“Morning, Chef,” Elijah said, joining Greyson in their shared office. Greyson pulled out one of his headphones to return the greeting, smiled at his boss.

“Mborning,” he said, his voice still cracked and congested.

“How’re you feeling?” Elijah asked, cutting straight to the chase. Greyson rolled his eyes, shrugged. Smiled a bit.

“Better,” he said, sheepishly. “Much better. Thangks for holding down the fort yesterday, I really owe you one.”

Elijah laughed as he clicked his mouse to wake his computer. “Chef, it’s technically my fort. It’s my job to hold it down.”

“Still.”

The GM nudged his friend, playful. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “Glad you’re feeling better. I was worried you weren’t going to make it through the night.”

Greyson barked out a laugh that turned into a soupy-sounding cough. “You’re so fuckin’ dramatic,” he said. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Mmm,” Elijah murmured. “That’s what we’re classifying as ‘not that bad’ now? That’s wild. Don’t show me ‘bad’, okay? I don’t think my little heart can handle it.”

Greyson flipped Elijah off at that, and turned back to his computer. The two of them sat, working silently except for the occasional riff or cough from Greyson, until it was time to get ready for service.

All was well. At least, that’s what Greyson thought.

***

“HhhNGSTH-uh! HTSHH-uhn! Hh...hhRTTSHH-oo!”

Ah, fuck, Greyson thought as he watched Elijah slip out of his car. I’m an ass.

***

On Tuesday, there were a myriad of clues Greyson didn’t notice.

He didn’t notice the Elijah slunk into the kitchen an hour later than he normally did; unheard of for him. The chef had been busy prepping when his boss made his way to their office and sunk into his chair, fingers pressed into his aching eye sockets.

“Morning, boss,” Mark said, stopping into the office. Elijah looked up, bleary, and Mark’s face shifted into one of concern. “You alright?”

“Greyson’s fuckin’ cold,” he muttered, coughing hard into his elbow. “It’s a fuckin’ bear.”

Mark put an easy hand on his boss’s forehead, his face knotted with anxiety. “Take anything?” he asked. Elijah shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “But I will. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t notice when Elijah ducked out back to have a drawn-out fit of sneezing; Greyson was inside, lecturing Matt and Mark on exactly how to put together the dinner they were going to be doing in Rochester the next day when his boss pushed outside into the cold of the alley. Elijah had managed to collect himself just as Greyson followed him out the back kitchen doors.

“Christ,” Greyson said shaking his head and sitting down on a milk crate next to his boss. “Sometimes, man. This job is like running a fuckin’ daycare.”

Elijah nodded, unsure of how his voice would sound if he spoke. They sat in silence for a few moments, until Greyson produced a pack of cigarettes.

“Bum one?” he asked Elijah, shaking two from the pack. “I owe you.”

“Sure,” Elijah said, his voice cracking on the single syllable. Greyson lit them both up, didn’t mention his boss’s voice. He took a long drag while Elijah ducked into his elbow.

“NTSH! GTSH! HTSH!” Elijah stifled a volley of sneezes into his shirt, sat up near-gasping. He turned toward Greyson, stared at his friend, waiting – what for, he wasn’t entirely sure. Pity? Sympathy? Acknowledgment?

Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t get it. Greyson stubbed out his cigarette and stood without a word. “See you back in there, boss,” he said.

The un-smoked cigarette hung from Elijah’s fingers, burning bright in his hand. He sneezed once, uncovered, creating a cloud of condensation in front of his face. He stubbed the cigarette out, choked back a cough, and headed back inside.

Greyson didn’t even notice when, at nine PM, Elijah parked himself in their closed-off private dining room and laid his head down on the stripped table, cool marble on his overheated face.

“Lij? Boss?” Elijah heard the voice come in before he could sit himself upright. He turned blearily towards the door and saw Matt standing in the doorway, his face painted with concern.

“Shit, Lij, you look like fuckin’ hell,” Matt said, sitting next to Elijah. “I mean, Mark said you weren’t well but Jesus Christ.”

“’m okay,” Elijah shrugged, and turned away from Matt. “Huh! HhIGSTZH-oo! ITSHZH-uh!” He hitched in preparation of another sneeze, sighed when it escaped him.

“Bless you,” Matt said. “I came in to tell you that Greyson wanted your input on a dish he’s working on in the back, but I’ll tell him to fuck off. You need to go home.”

Wanted input on a dish. Elijah would have snorted if he was sure it wouldn’t have ended in a disaster of a mess; of course he wanted his input. The man was in the fucking clouds, apparently; too high to realize he’d left his best friend sunk in the muck that was this nightmare of a headcold.

“That would be great, Mbatt,” Elijah said, attempting a smile. “Thangk you.”

Greyson didn’t even notice, Elijah knew without knowing, that his boss had left without saying goodnight.

***

“Elijah, fuck, dude I’m so sorry for dragging you out here.”

The GM just shrugged, clearly too tired and ill to make a quip. He ran the sleeve of his NYU sweatshirt under his running nose and moved slowly towards the back door. The keys shook in his hand; it took what felt like an eon to open it.

Finally, the door swung open. “You’re in,” Elijah said, his voice barely a whisper. “Do you thingk you cand handle tondight on your own?”

“Yeah, of course, boss, but… shit. Lij, I’m so sorry dude. I can’t believe I didn’t notice you were sick, I mean -”

Elijah held up a hand to stop the chef’s babbling. “Grey,” he rasped, “it’s okay. We’ll call it you getti’g even at mbe for ndever ndoticing you were sick when you first started.”

“That was six years ago. You had an excuse, you didn’t even know me; I know you, I know when you’re sick, I feel like such an ass. I’ve been wracking my brain, pacing around back here trying to figure out how I didn’t realize -”

“HTSHH-oo! ETSCHHH-uh!” Elijah cut the chef off again, folded in half, his face in his sleeve. He sucked in through his nose, stood slowly.

“Bless,” Greyson said, guiltily.

“Thangks,” Elijah said. “And it’s okay. Ndo one is infallible.” He shivered, rubbed his arms with his hands. Greyson held the door open.

“Obviously if you don’t want to stay you don’t have to,” he said, “but… if you want to hang for a bit, I can make you some tea? Or soup? Make it up to you for coming out here because of my stupidity?”

Elijah attempted a scoff that ended in a cough. “Greyson. It’s really okay.”

“I feel badly,” Greyson admitted. They stood locked in that old game of chicken yet again. This time, it was Elijah that broke the spell.

“HRRRSHH-uhh! Goddamn,” he muttered, shaking his head. He looked up at Greyson, forgiveness written on his pallid face. “Mbe too,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. “This cold is a fuckin’ mbonster.”

Greyson laughed, an almost-hysterical sound that made palpable his relief at being forgiven. “Oh, Lij,” he said, closing the door behind them, “no one knows that better than me.”