#everyone is free to do with the turtles as they please

[risestarkiss]

Hello there :3

What are your thoughts on the S I B L I N G ships (Leo, Donnie, Raph, Mikey incest) (it makes me want to throw up) also I love ur analysis’s on rise :]

❌❌❌

Siblings are siblings. Lovers are lovers. They should not be one and the same, under ANY circumstance.

Also, thank you! I love that you love my silly little rambles.😄

Thanks for the ask! 😁💜

[gayriddleussy]

Im too deep into nerd culture.

[featherandferns]

risk (fic)

jj maybank x fem!kook!reader | partly inspired by this incredible scene

content warnings: sexual content; physical violence

word count: 18k.

blurb: after a hurricane, a Labrador shows up at JJ's house. After some posters go up around the country, JJ begrudgingly returns the dog to you on Figure Eight. Little did he know that his life was about to change forever.

This is actually insane.

JJ has no idea how everything went to shit faster than a penny falling from the top of the Empire State Building. It seems to be the crux of his life.

One minute Rafe is beating the shit out of JJ’s face, Kelce holding him tight in a headlock, with Pope being strangled to his right by Topper, and the next everyone is still like rock.

There you stand, holding up a gun, safety unlatched, with the aim set directly at the centre of Rafe’s forehead. He’s already called your bluff once. It’s a classic Mexican stand-off. Nobody knows what you’re going to do next, not even JJ. Hell, he’s not even sure if you know what you’ll do next.

And it’s crazy to think that all of this started because of a dog.

Two Months Earlier

It always sucks when JJ admits to himself that Kiara was right. She was right about most things, in fairness, but just this once – just for a change – he had hoped that she wasn’t.

The blonde-haired boy stands in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at a poster taped to a streetlamp. His teeth gnaw on his lower lip in thought as he tugs the poster free, as if gaining a closer look might change what he sees.

MISSING DOG

IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN TO 12 SILVER CANOE WAY, FIGURE EIGHT

REWARD AVAILABLE

The picture is an uncanny reflection of the dog currently sat by JJ’s feet. He’s panting in the sun, blissfully unaware of the curveball tossed at his temporary owner. As JJ looks from the black-and-white poster to the middle-aged dog, he has to begrudgingly admit to himself that Kiara was right. This dog wasn’t a stray. Instead, he was the pet of some bratty, spoilt Kook.

“Whose dog is that?” Kiara asks.

JJ follows her gaze to the labrador cosied up on the porch, soaking up the sun like it was his God-given right.

“Mine,” he says.

“Yours?”

“Yeah, he just showed up after the hurricane."

It was true. The morning after the hurricane, JJ ventured out of his house to assess the damage only to hear a rustling and whimper from under the porch. Getting down on his hands and knees, expecting to find some beaten racoon, JJ came face to face with a petrified, middle-aged labrador. No collar. His cream coat was covered in dirt and dust and a small cut near his eye told JJ he’d found his way to his house during the hurricane, likely seeking shelter. After he coaxed him out with some fresh fish, the dog seemed to take a liking to the seventeen-year-old. JJ took it as the dog distribution system shining the light on him but Kiara didn’t seem so sure.

“And you’re just gonna claim him?”

“He’s a stray,” JJ tells her.

She looks to the dog again, then back to JJ. Her face essentially says, ‘seriously, dude?’

“He is!”

“A dog that well-groomed and that well fed is not a stray, and you know it.”

JJ’s stomach twists. He’d thought the same thing once he’d given the dog a wipe down. A full stomach, trimmed fur, trained to do more than just sit…Strays don’t come like that in Kildare County. But JJ liked the company the dog brought. He’d always wanted one, ever since he was a kid, but his dad would never allow it. Waste of money and food, he’d say. But so far, JJ had managed to keep the dog’s existence on the downlow. He wasn’t very loud or yappy. In fact, he was as calm as sea turtle. JJ liked the bond that had so quickly grown between them. So, swallowing the faint feeling of guilt of keeping someone’s dog, he tells Kiara:

“Well, until someone puts a poster up, I’m sticking to my gut. He’s a stray and he belongs with me.”

It’s like the universe was calling his bluff or something.

JJ crumples the poster in his fist, litters it on the street, and gently tugs on the leash.

“Come on, boy,” he mutters.

The dog gets to its feet and follows JJ down the street, back to the Chateau. He seems rather drained from the brief walk around the cut. Curls up by the front door in a patch of shade, yawning before nestling his head between his large paws for a nap. JJ watches him from the kitchen as he sips on a cold cider. His mind is in battle between right and wrong (as it usually is) as he contemplates the poster.

Kiara nearly falls over the dog as she walks into the Chateau. Then, she shoots a deadly glare to JJ.

“You didn’t go to the vet, did you?”

“Who actually microchips their pets, anyway?”

“Most people, JJ. It’s a clever way to make sure you get your dog back if, let’s say, it runs off in a hurricane without a collar,” Kie returns.

JJ rolls his eyes and takes another swig of his drink. “I’ll take him tomorrow.”

“Actually, there’s no need,” Kiara says. She walks across the room to him and pulls something from her back pocket. As she unfolds the rectangle of paper, JJ comes face to face with the very poster that had been occupying his mind for the past half hour. She holds it out to him.

“See? This is someone’s dog.”

“That could be any dog,” JJ lies.

Kiara quirks a brow. JJ breaks easily, sighing.

“Look, can we just consider the possibility that this dog would be happier with me?” JJ argues. He ditches his cider and makes his way over to the animal. “I mean, he likes me, Kie. And he listens to me. And I like having him around.”

Lowering to his knees, he pets the dog awake from his slumber. He makes an adorable grumbling-whine as he rouses from his sleep. Looking over to Kiara, JJ must resemble an eight-year-old begging their parents for candy at the grocery store.

“I’ll take good care of him,” he promises.

Kiara sighs. Her icy exterior softens, features overcome with sympathy. She joins him and the dog on the floor, scratching at the pet’s back.

“I know you will, JJ,” she says. “But this is someone’s pet. And they clearly want him back. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Since when do I ever do the right thing?” JJ mumbles. He looks down to meet the chocolate brown eyes of his new best friend.

“Since today, hopefully.”

JJ holds the dog’s gaze. There’s such tenderness in his eyes, as the dog stares up at him. Makes JJ feel as though he is the most important thing on this earth. Dogs don’t care about money or mind: you treat them right and give them a good stick, and they’ll be happy forever. Unconditional love like that is rare to find in humans. It seems to JJ like it’s almost impossible, really. But then he thinks of the dog looking at a little girl or boy like that, and how (as spoilt as they may be) the child feels nothing but love for the dog in return. It seems cruel to take that away. He knows deep down what the right thing is. The moral thing.

“Tomorrow,” JJ quietly says. Looking up, meeting Kiara’s eyes, he nods reluctantly. “I’ll take him to the house tomorrow.”

She smiles smally, nodding to herself. Getting to her feet, she leaves JJ alone with the dog to enjoy the last few hours of time together. He ends up falling asleep on the pull-out couch with the dog, face buried in the scruff of his neck, as he unconsciously counts down the hours left until he gives him back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ stretches out the walk to the house for as long as possible. He lets the dog sniff at every scent and even tries to coax a million pee breaks out of him. He lingers by the sea, stroking the dog’s fur, and shares a hot dog as they pass a gas station. Eventually, they arrive at Figure Eight. The hurricane left the cell towers down on The Cut, so he didn’t bother with his phone. That leaves him to follow street signs until he’s making his way up Silver Canoe Way.

The houses are insane. Marvels of architecture and money. Bright green hedges trimmed into the most obscure shapes; useless statutes standing pretty in front gardens, protected by walls and security cameras. Fountains on almost every property, and a pool probably found in every back garden. Lucky sons of bitches.

House 12 is gorgeous: cream stone bricks and oak-style wood accents. There isn’t a gate, which is curious considering all the others down the road have one. JJ feels as though he’s trespassing as he makes his way up the driveway. There's not a single weed sprouting between paving slabs. There’re two cars in the driveway, each probably cost more than his life insurance pay-out. He imagines birds that dare shit on them get taxed: it’s the only way to explain their cleanliness. God, living like this and he can half understand why Kooks are as obnoxious as they are. What appear to be marble steps lead to a huge front door. The dog seems to know where he is, tugging excitedly on the leash as he guides JJ up the stairs.

JJ stands for a long moment. He looks down at the dog, takes in its wagging tail, and sighs. As he lifts his fist to rap against the door, it swings open. JJ is just as stunned as you. He doesn’t have time to apologise for startling you, because your eyes drop from JJ to the barking dog. You sink to the floor, mouth falling open, and willingly let your dog tackle you in a hug. His leash slips from JJ’s hold. You scruff the dog’s neck, press kisses all over his face, and giggle tearfully as your dog greets you after almost a week apart.

“Oh my God! Ranger! Oh my God!” you happily cry over and over again.

JJ immediately feels evil for even contemplating keeping your dog, Ranger, to himself.

The moment Ranger seems to gain some composure, you remember JJ’s existence. Looking up, you quickly wipe away your tears from under your eyes and clamber back to your feet.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I’m so rude!” you laugh, sticking out a hand. He shakes it as you introduce yourself.

“JJ,” he replies.

There’s a moment of recognition that passes over your face but it’s gone as soon as it comes, like the flash of green at sunset on the horizon.

“Thank you so much,” you say. One of your hands reaches down to ruffle at Ranger’s neck. JJ takes in how happy he is, staring up at you, grinning and panting, tongue out with exertion. “Where did you find him?”

“He kinda found me,” JJ replies, scratching the back of his neck. “Showed up under my house just after the hurricane. Guessing he got spooked or something.”

“That’s what we think happened,” you say. “I woke up to find the backdoor open. He must have jumped and bolted; he frightens easy, you see. I felt awful when I realised he was gone.”

As JJ listens to you speak, he’s partly distracted. It’s hard to follow along to what you say when you’re standing gorgeous like the first day of June.

“Well, like I said, it’s no trouble,” JJ repeats.

You smile brighter than a brand-new penny, teeth pearly white and perfect aligned. JJ doubts you ever needed braces. Probably born with a set of veneers. It’s with that bitter thought that he reminds himself what he’s dealing with here. A kook who lives in nothing short of a mansion, who can’t even keep her dog inside during a hurricane.

“The, uh, poster said something about a reward…” JJ awkwardly mentions.

Your face dawns with realisation and he momentarily feels guilty, but then you’re nodding fervently. “Of course! God, I can’t believe I forgot!”

“I mean, I would have brought him back anyway,” JJ bold face lies.

“No, don’t be silly, it’s the least I owe.” You pull your door open. “Come in, please,” you say, heading into your home.

JJ falters in the doorway. It feels as though even stepping into your home might put him short of a few hundred bucks, just from breathing the air. He follows the route you took into the house, closing the door behind him. The minute he’s out of the entryway and in the main corridor, his eyes widen like he’s witnessing a supernova.

“Holy super kook,” he mutters, gaping at the interior.

Marble everything. Expensive obnoxious artwork that must only be interpretable once you reach a certain tax bracket. Framed photos of yourself and your family on the wall at various vacation spots: France, Italy, Mexico, China. There are others, too, of dance recitals. A shelf of trophies and awards. Ornaments and figurines standing on podiums like he’s in a museum. JJ’s terrified to walk, as if one step might send everything falling off the walls.

He finds himself blindly following you into the kitchen. It’s crystal clean and white. Granite counter tops beautifully cluttered with every appliance you can imagine. You head to the fridge.

“You want a drink?”

“Uh, sure. Water’s fine, thanks,” JJ replies.

You nod and grab a glass that probably costs JJ’s entire monthly wage. Then you go to your fridge (it has a touchscreen for Christ’s sake) and dispense ice cold water. Holding it out to him, you smile, sweet like buttercream.

JJ sips and watches as you reach for a bag that lies on the kitchen counter, retrieving a wallet. Holding out two fifties, you wait for him to take them. His eyes stare at the unwrinkled notes. JJ’s momentary pause makes you frown.

“Sorry, that’s a bit tight of me, isn’t it?” you say. You dip into the bottomless wallet and retrieve another fifty. “Is that enough?”

“Uh, I couldn’t…” He clears his throat and finally snaps out of his stupor. Taking the money, he passes two fifties back, saying, “I can’t take all of this.”

You shake your head and push the money back towards him.

“I insist. You brought my dog back! I should be giving you more,” you say.

JJ holds back his laugh.

More? It’s a fucking dog! You’re about to give him $150 for a Goddamn seven-year-old labrador? God, Kooks really do just think different.

He looks up from the money and takes you in, properly this time. JJ recognises you. Not from keggers or house parties – he’s seen you at neither of those things – but from church. He used to be subjected to Sunday school in a desperate bid to ‘send him on the right life path’, and he could remember seeing you there. You’d attend the service, sat safe in your father’s shadow. Even though JJ stopped going, he’d still see people heading in the direction of the county church if he were in the area. You were a regular. Dressed in the prettiest dresses, hair perfect and proper, jewellery to the nines, always sandwiched between your mother and father. You didn’t indulge in the debauchery that most teenagers on the island did. JJ would know if he’d spotted you at one of the many hangs; you had the kind of beauty that demanded to be seen, like a rare bird on the marsh. No, girls like you didn’t partake in those things. You spent time with your parents and a small circle of Church friends, probably just as sheltered and saintly as yourself, and was in bed before sunset and awake before sunrise.  

And yet, you never rubbed JJ the wrong way like all the other Kooks did. He didn’t know you from Adam – in fact, the first time he’d ever shared a word with you was today – but something about you…You seemed different. Genuine. Rich, no doubt, but not exactly snobbish.

An idea suddenly comes to JJ. It’s stupid, and rather out of character given his prejudices, but for some reason, it’s miles more appealing than $150. A part of him wonders where his sudden charity is coming from. Maybe it’s something about your personality and his underlying infatuation he’s had with you since Sunday school. Maybe it’s your dog and how doting he appears to be of you. Hell, maybe it’s because you’re pretty. JJ’s always been a sucker for pretty girls – Kook or not – and he’s always wanted the things that he can’t have.

All these thoughts race through his head at a hundred miles an hour, and there’s only half a minute that passes before JJ speaks.

“How ‘bout this?” he says. “I take a fifty, and you let me take you out.”

You blink once, then twice. “Take me out? Like…on a date?”

“Yeah,” JJ nods. The fact that your whole face didn’t immediately shrivel up like a prune at the suggestion gives JJ hope that he might have a chance. “What’d you say?”

There’s a moment where your eyes dip down to Ranger. He’s sat at your feet, watching the two of you interact with his tongue hanging out, mouth in a seeming smile. The second your eyes lock with your dog's, you look back to JJ with new-found confidence.

“Depends,” you say, correcting your posture, chin held high. “What did you have in mind?”

JJ’s never had to pitch a date to a girl before in his life. Usually he asks and they’re there: hook, line and sinker. His brain thinks hard and fast. “I can pick you up. Go for a drive, grab a bite maybe. Get to know one another,” he says.

You quirk a brow. “Is that all?”

Of course, you have standards. Hell, the guys that court you probably dine you at The Ritz and gift you a Rolex. JJ isn’t deterred though. Instead, he’s rather amused.

With a boyish grin, he says, “princess, I promise one date with me and I’ll change your life forever.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Bold statement to make, Maybank.”  

JJ takes note of how you know his last name and thinks back to when he introduced himself; that strange flash of recognition on your face. You know who he is and yet, you’re entertaining the idea of letting him take you out. Curiouser and curiouser.

JJ doesn’t beg or barter. Instead, he just stares you down, waiting for your response as you visibly contemplate his offer. There’s a hint of a smile on your face, the type that might come when you’re trying to suss someone out. It’s barely there but JJ’s sure he can see it. He knows that look all too well.

“When would this be?”

JJ’s painfully aware of how desperate he may sound as he says, “Tomorrow night?”

“I have ballet practice tomorrow.”

“Thursday then.”

“Piano recital.”

“Jesus, woman,” he can’t help but mutter. It makes you smile.

“I’m free Friday,” you offer.

And, holy shit, no way you’re actually agreeing to this. JJ hopes the shock doesn't show on his face.

“Friday works. The, uh, cell towers are down on The Cut so how ‘bout I just pick you up? Seven thirty sound good?”

“Sure.”

You speak in a manner that tries to give the impression that this whole conversation is rather mundane to you. That you have Pogues asking you out every other hour, almost like a nine-to-five job.

“But pick me up on the street outside, not in the driveway.”

JJ doesn’t question it. He’s not going to argue to your terms when he’s somehow landed a date with the hottest, goody-two-shoes kook in Kildare.

“Alright. On the street, Friday at seven thirty. Wear something pretty, yeah?”

Your brows quirk. “Any other demands?”

“Yeah. Give me a fair chance?” JJ wonders, half-joking.

Your eyes flit from JJ’s face, down his body, right to his toes, and back again. Smiling, sweet like cotton candy, you reply, “I think I can do that.”

His body goes ice cold. JJ nods, cementing the dates and times in his memory like he’s remembering nuclear launch codes.

“Then, I guess I’ll see you soon, princess."

“I guess so,” you say, returning the leftover fifties to your wallet. JJ pockets his fifty, gives one last pet to Ranger in farewell, and shows himself to the front door. As it shuts behind him, JJ leans against it. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. Then, he laughs. He laughs and laughs, mouth upturned in an astounded smile, and shakes his head.

“No fucking way,” he mumbles to himself.

John B is not going to believe this. None of the Pogues are.

Rubbing at his face in disbelief, JJ repeats, “no fucking way” one last time before walking down the driveway. He spares one last glance at the house. Friday. Seven-thirty.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ has never been one to care all that much about his appearance. Half of his clothes have a hole in them somewhere, whether it be on the collar or in a pocket, and his hair is constantly tousled with salt-water from the sea. He isn’t unclean though. He showers and shaves and washes his clothes (though perhaps not as much as he should). He doesn’t think he’s bad looking, either. Lived experience shows that to be true, as he’s never struggled to land a date or hook-up. But there’s something about you, something about this particular meeting, that has him turfing through his chest of drawers.

He’s pretty sure he’s settled on an outfit. It’s ironic that it looks almost thrown together when JJ’s spent fifteen minutes obsessing over it. He washed his hair with shampoo and conditioner (that he stole from Kiara) and even used some hair wax to try and style it. Again, it probably looks the same as usual, but he feels better for it.

All the faffing leaves him running late. It’s closer to 7:45 than 7:30 by the time JJ pulls up your road on his bike. He’s aware of how loud the engine is in this area, rumbling as he slows to a stop. You’re stood in the sidewalk, arms crossed anxiously over your chest, glancing up and down the street. As JJ approaches, your eyes fall on him and a nervous smile sparks to life. JJ bullshits himself by labelling his hammering heart as adrenaline from riding a dirt bike on Figure Eight. You push some of your hair behind your ear as you walk up to meet him halfway. You’re practically glowing under the sunset sky, skin shiny with body butter like you’ve been bathed in glitter. He shuts off the engine and sits back in the seat.

“You’re late."

JJ cringes playfully. “My bad?”

“Mhm.”

You step over to him and linger by his bike. He quirks a brow. “You hopping on?”

As your eyes survey the vehicle, JJ starts to grin, smug. “You ever been on a bike before?”

“Course,” you say, almost too quickly. “Just…Not one like this.”

JJ offers out a hand and you hesitate for a second before taking it. Grasping your hand in his, you climb onto the back of his bike. Your summer dress rides up as you do and you nervously tug it down. Then, your arms gently loop around his waist. Laughing, JJ shakes his head. He tightens your grip on him.

“Gotta hold on tight or you’ll fly off,” JJ remarks.

“Promise not to do anything stupid?” you say, voice thick with nerves.

JJ starts up the engine. “Princess, I can’t promise anything like that,” he grins. Looking over his shoulder, meeting your terrified eyes, he softens his smile. “But I promise you’re safe.”

Your own smile battles through the queasy nervousness. JJ revs the engine and turns his head back to the road, and then he sets off. Your arms immediately latch tighter like a vice. It makes him laugh, and you mutter a meek ‘shut up’ in reply. Having you close like this; he can smell your perfume. It’s expensive, encapsulating you like you’ve been doused in it. Several bangle style bracelets lining your wrists press into his skin through his t-shirt, only slightly uncomfortable, and when he turns a corner, they shift and jangle melodically together.

Zipping down the roads of Figure Eight, JJ drags out the journey the same way he did walking Ranger back to your house. Gradually, mansions turn to shacks and quaint homes, and well-kept children’s parks into overgrown yards surrounded with chain-link fence.

He pulls down a dirt track, heading nearer to the marshland, and eventually comes to a stop. You catch your breath as he turns off the engine.

“Feeling alright?” he checks, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply.

You look a little windswept. Instinctively, JJ reaches out a hand to brush some hair from your face. Embarrassed, you help, calming down your hair and fixing your appearance. Then you use JJ’s shoulders as an anchor, climbing off his bike.

“So…You brought me out to middle of nowhere…” you say, looking around.

JJ kicks on the stand and pulls the keys form the ignition. “Scared?”

“Should I be?”

JJ chuckles, shaking his head. “Come on. I got something planned.”

He takes your hand, smiling to himself as you intertwine your fingers with his, and guides the two of you through the shrubs towards the water side. The P.M.S. Pogue sits moored in the marsh. A loan, if he helps John B clean out the chicken hut next week.

“Now, I know this probably ain’t like all the fancy yachts you and your folks have,” JJ starts, walking up to the boat side. “But I promise it runs like a dream.”

As he looks back to you, JJ’s eyes shamelessly sweep along your figure. The dress you’re wearing is pastel green adorned with dainty flowers of white and ivy. It ends just past the point of tortuous on your legs. You’re pretty as a vine and sweet like a grape, decorated with expensive jewellery. Pearl earrings and a Tiffany necklace. On your wrist, though, JJ finds a series of handmade friendship bracelets amongst your bangles. They’re made with shells and beads and tiny pendants of silver. Several rings sit pretty on your fingers.

Looking back to the boat, JJ pulls the ladder free with a grunt. It creaks from want of use: himself and the Pogues usually just climb inside or jump on from the jetty. “Ladies first,” he says, offering out a hand.

You look between his hand and the ladder, and then something deterministic overcomes your face as you place your hands on lip of the boat. With a huff, you use whatever upper body strength you have to climb up. JJ stands, taken aback, and his eyes falls to your bare legs. Your toes are pointed, calve muscles tense and strong, and he can almost picture you in pointe ballet slippers. Amused, JJ lets you clamber up into the boat. Sighing, you correct your dress and jewellery before looking down at him.

“Well? You coming?”

JJ gives a small laugh before nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

He climbs with significantly less difficulty than yourself, proudly flexing his muscles as he does, shameless in his peacocking. When he gets to his feet, he finds you staring. “Like what you see?”

Your face flushes. You try and play it off though. “Just checking if you needed a hand.”

JJ grins, playing along, and you roll your eyes and walk to the wheel of the boat. He follows, pulling the keys from his short pockets, and turns on the engine which sputters to life. You hold onto the side of the steering hold as JJ guides the two of you into the marsh.

“You wanna steer?” he asks once you’re in wider waters.

You wordlessly step up and take the wheel. It’s easy, guiding the boat along. JJ hovers behind you, testing the waters by placing a hand on your waist. You don’t shrug him off. Soon enough, JJ’s placing a hand back on the wheel and guiding you to a certain spot.

“I found this place a while ago,” he says over your shoulder as he steers. He can feel your gaze on him. It’s terrifying, having you so close to him. God, he hopes it doesn’t show. “Best stargazing spot in the whole county.”

He slows the engine to a shuddering stop and steps away to toss the anchor down. It’s silent out in the water, asides from sea birds and marsh-side insects. Fish that break to the surface for a split-second disturb the water every now and then. Crickets and distant hooting owls. It’s dark now, too. Everything painted in a dusky blue. JJ grabs the old blanket that he stole from the twinkie and lies it down on the nose of the boat.

“Here,” he calls.

You make your way over, accepting his hand as you step up. The two of you settle to lay side by side. JJ tucks his arms behind his head as a makeshift pillow. You stare at the sky, eyes falling open at the endless expanse.

“Woah.”

“Pretty sick, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, laughing quietly. “It’s awesome.”

JJ grins. Nailed it.

For a while, the two of you just stargaze. He can hear your breathing, steady and calm, and once more your perfume invades his senses. A bottle of the stuff probably cost more than his bike. That thought prompts him to break the silence. Sitting up, he looks down at you.

“Alright, I gotta ask,” he says.

You sit up on your elbows, curiosity piqued. It takes everything in JJ to keep his eyes trained on your face and not your chest.

“Why’d you agree to go out with me?”

You smile, somewhat amused. It’s like you’ve been waiting for him to ask. “Well, that’s an easy question.”

“Oh, is it now?”

“Mhm,” you grin, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Christ, you’re angelic. “Ranger.”

“Your dog?”

“Yep.”

“What? You kooks manage to translate what they bark about or something? He give you some words of wisdom?”

You laugh, shaking your head. Sitting up fully, your bracelets chime together. “He liked you.”

“Yeah?” JJ says, brows tugging together in confusion.

“Ranger doesn’t trust easy. He’s a rescue and he practically chose me. The shelter people said he hadn’t let anyone near him since arriving, but with me, he came running over, like he knew me or something. He likes men even less. He won’t let my daddy within five yards of him without barking and cowering. He wouldn’t hurt you, but he gets scared and jumpy. But he seemed to like you. Seemed to trust you.”

“So, that made you agree to go out with me?” JJ checks.

Shrugging, you simply reply, “dogs are the best judge of character, after all.”

Humming in thought, JJ looks out to the marsh as he considers what you’ve said. It’s a little hilarious that a runaway dog is the reason that he’s got you here, alone, on the P.M.S. Pogue.

“My turn,” you say, seemingly initiating a game of twenty-one questions. JJ looks back to you. “Why’d you ask me out?”

“Pretty obvious. You’re fucking gorgeous,” JJ replies.

Whilst your smile turns to mush, you roll your eyes and act as if you’re unaffected by his words. “Seriously, though. I didn’t think I was your type.”

“Smoking hot girls? Nah, you’re pretty much my type to a T,” JJ goes on, charming smile in full view.

“What about Kiara?”

JJ gives a bemused smile. “What about Kie?”

“I know she hangs out with you guys. We’re pretty different people, me and her.”

It’s obvious that you’re far from low maintenance. You're proud of being a kook. You don’t shy away from it: happy to show off your money and beauty. JJ doesn’t get the sense that you’re haughty but it seems rather clear that you live your life to a certain standard.

JJ shrugs. “Guess that’s why I’m not dating her.”

“I know your reputation, you know. About all the girls you hook-up with and stuff.”

“Oh. You jealous or something?”

“No,” you say. Voice turning softer, you continue. “But I feel like I should to tell you that I’m not the kind of girl who has a lot of hook-ups. Or the kind who puts out on the first date.” When JJ doesn’t say anything, you feel the need to add, “just, before you get your hopes up.”

Pursing his lips, JJ nods slowly. He had a feeling that was going to be the case. You weren’t exactly known in the community for being particularly flirtatious. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever known any guy to date you. From the way you spoke, careful with your words, and the way you acted, you were almost made of solid gold: pure through and through. So, having you take sex off the table for the foreseeable future didn’t exactly blind-side JJ. That to say, if you had offered it up, he would have jumped at the opportunity. God, he’s half sure he’d die if he ever saw you naked.

He could be a gentleman, though. He could. Something about you had JJ entranced outside of just the physical. So, if a hook-up wasn’t in the cards, maybe getting to know you might be all the better.

He’ll just have to learn to keep his eyes and his dick to himself.

Sighing, JJ lowers himself to lay down again. This time, he only tucks one arm behind his head. The other, he outstretches into your expanse of the blanket.

“Alright, princess. I think I can live with that,” he says.

Seemingly content with his reply, you lay back down, resting your head in the nook of his arm.

“It’s your turn,” you quietly say after a moment’s quiet.

“To do what?”

“Ask a question.”

JJ filters through the many in his mind, tucking the inappropriate ones away for a later date, and finally settles. “Alright. Was Ranger the only reason you agreed to go on a date with me?”

You let out a small tuneful hum of contemplation. “No. I wanted to see what you were like.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, I’ve seen you around the island and heard the stories. I suppose I wanted to know for myself,” you say. “Plus, I always do what I’m supposed to do. I guess I wanted to do the opposite, for a change.”

“Rebelling against your dear old daddy with the derelict from the Cut?” JJ jokingly asks.

“Hmm. Something like that,” you say, playing along. You turn your head to the side and meet JJ's eyes. “You’re just a pawn in my game, Maybank.”

JJ’s too sucker-punched from that to come up with something witty in reply. There’s a foreign thump in his chest and a selcouth feeling in the back of his throat as you look at him. JJ swallows it away, returning his attention to the star-lit sky.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ revels in the miracle that he landed a second date with you as he fixes his hair in John B’s bathroom mirror. His best friend sits on the closed toilet lid, watching him.

“I can’t believe you’re seeing her again,” John B says for the millionth time.

JJ grins at his reflection. “I know.”

“I mean, what do you guys even talk about?” JB continues, face contorted in confusion.

JJ shrugs. “I don’t know. We just spent the other night talking about all sorts, really.”

“And you’re sure she isn’t being paid to go out with you?”

“Maybe the first time, but not this time, no,” JJ replies. He stops messing with his hair. Licks over his teeth, checking for trapped food, and dusts of his t-shirt. Looking to his friend, JJ asks, “how do I look?”

John B barely takes his appearance in before saying, “like she’s out of your league.”

“Come on, man,” JJ groans, shoving his best friend’s shoulder. He leaves the bathroom, John B hot on his tail. “You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah. That I’m macking on a kook and you ain’t,” JJ tells him. Opening the fridge, he tosses a beer to John B before taking one for himself. “I know you’ve had a thing for Sarah Cameron since we were kids.”

“No,” John B quickly says, shaking his head. “No, no, I do not have ‘a thing’ for Sarah Cameron.”

“JB, you’re a terrible liar,” JJ sighs. He takes a sip of his drink. Liquid confidence. Eyes glancing up to the clock hung on the chateau’s kitchen wall, he reckons he has about five minutes before he should leave for your house.

“So, seriously: what is this? Why this new flavour of the month?” John B grills.

JJ shrugs. “I dunno man. She’s just…She’s cute. And hot. And rich, and easy to talk to, and kinda funny, and, oh did I mention, rich as fuck. I don’t see any downsides, really.”

“Mhm, well, I do,” John B gladly counters. “She’s a kook.”

“Yeah, but she’s not like a kook kook. Kinda like how Kiara’s a kook,” JJ argues.

John B looks bewildered. “She is nothing like Kiara.”

“Alright, not in personality or looks or actual money, but in general kook-ness.”

“All I’m saying is that if you think this thing has a long shelf-life, you’re way more crazy than I thought you were,” John B says.

JJ doesn’t reply. Downing the rest of his can, he tosses it at the trash can (dismally misses) and heads for the front door. As he goes, he taps John B on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion.

“Nice to know you’re rooting for me, man,” he jovially says in farewell.

Then, he’s heading down the porch steps, climbing onto his bike, and setting sights for your house for the fourth time in his life.

Your house stands like a castle in the streets. JJ practically sees the driveway as a crocodile infested moat. He waits on the street at the foot of the driveway for you, arriving in time to see you make your way down the drive. You’re dressed in Levi shorts and a Tommy Hilfiger shirt, designer sandals on your decorated feet with anklets and toe rings. JJ sits back on his seat, engine running, and finds himself grinning as you smile at him. When did that start to happen?

“Not late this time, huh?” you playfully say.

“Learnt my lesson.”

You don’t hesitate as you climb on the back of his bike. You wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers splaying out across his chest over his t-shirt. JJ revs the engine.

“Ready?”

“Hell yeah.”

Grinning, JJ sets off down the street.

Once again, you’d left the plans in JJ’s hands. It was a little surreal to him, how trusting you were of him. Might be a place of concern, even. But, hey, JJ will take the win.

It’s still light when you get to the cliffside. From here, the view is incredible. An orange-pink sky that looks like it might taste of tangerine and peach hangs above a rolling sea. The view stretches on for miles, with the mainland off along the horizon.

JJ admires you as you stand in breeze, looking out at the view. You turn to face him.

“Why does every place I let you take me get more and more concerning every time?”

“We’re going cliff jumping,” is JJ’s reply.  

Your eyebrows nearly shoot off your head. “That’s called suicide, JJ.”

“Nah, not here,” he says, shaking his head. He grabs your hand and tries to coax you nearer to the edge so you can see the drop. “Water’s plenty deep and cliff’s plenty high. It’s fun.”

You catch on that he’s not joking. Laughing nervously, you shake your head and take several large steps back to safety. “No, no, no.”

“Come on! It’s fun!” JJ swears.

Your smile begins to fade and your head shakes faster. “No way. I don’t do…That. And I’ll ruin my hair. And what about my jewellery?”

“You can take off your jewellery,” JJ argues, walking towards you, “and your hair’ll look good either way.”

“Easy for you to say,” you snort, eyeing him up as your arms cross over your chest. “You’re a guy.”

“First of all: rude.”

JJ tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground. Your eyes instinctively glance down at his chest. JJ doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.

“Second of all: live a little, princess.”

You scoff. “I live plenty, thank you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. Really. Have you ever been to Paris? Seen the Eiffel tower? Been in the catacombs? Or gone to Italy and tasted wine fresh from a vineyard?”

JJ raises a brow, sarcastic as he says, “yeah, every Tuesday. Now come on.”

He grabs for your wrist, tugging you towards him. You don’t push him away as he lifts his fingers to the clasp of your necklace, only momentarily struggling to get it loose. He gently places it on top of his t-shirt, and soon your many rings follow. You lean down and take off your toe rings and anklets, and then your earrings. The handmade bracelets stay, though. Standing upright, you take a shaky breath.

“Look, you don’t have to,” JJ quietly says. He can see the fear clear as day on your face. But you shake your head, newly determined by his offer of an out. Clearly you don’t like having your bluff called.

JJ’s eyes nearly fall out of his head as you pull your shirt off. He doesn’t even have time to recover before your wriggling out of your shorts, stepping out of them and carelessly tossing them onto the pile of clothes and accessories like you got them from a bargain bin at a thrift store. Stepping out of your sandals, standing proud in matching Calvin Klein underwear, you grab his hand and interlock your fingers, guiding the two of you to the cliffside. As you pull him into motion, JJ comes out of his filthy thoughts, mouth dry.

You come to a sudden stop a safe three feet away from the edge. JJ’s done this too many times to count but the adrenaline that floods the system before the first jump shocks him every time like a cold plunge. You gnaw on your lower lip in trepidation. JJ squeezes your fingers, mutters your name, and captures your attention.

“You trust me?”

Your beautiful eyes dance across his face. JJ almost sees you go calm, like a baby soothed by its favourite nursery rhyme. It seems that his question, as simple as it is, made something click in your mind.

“Yeah,” you breathe, as if realising it in the moment. “I do.”

With that, JJ gives one last squeeze to your hand and a fleeting smile, and then he starts running towards the cliffside. You run too, only a step behind, and the two of you hurl yourselves off the edge at the same time. Your scream echoes in the wind as air rushes past JJ’s ears. He whoops on his way down. The two of you pummel down towards the water, your hand never leaving his until you reach the surface. His eyes press shut and he prepares for impact as he crashes into the depths. The water is cold but not icy – it cools his skin comfortably. Everything goes quiet in the water, mellowed out and muted. JJ pushes to the surface and takes a breath of air, shoving wet hair off his face. As he looks around, treading water in the currents, he feels the adrenaline rise once more when he can’t find you.

JJ starts calling out your name, looking left and right and left again. Just as he’s about to dive under, you break. He gasps out in relief.

The minute your eyes open, they land on him. Then, the biggest smile he’s ever seen comes over your face. It etches itself on his brain with permanent marker. JJ could be senile and decrepit and still remember that look on your face.

“That was amazing!” you scream, throwing your hands up, spraying water everywhere. “Oh my God! We have to do that again!”

JJ laughs, soaking in your joy.

It’s weird seeing you, wet and without all your dressings. It’s like seeing a priceless painting outside of its frame: it makes it somehow even more beautiful. The setting sun warms your wet skin as you throw your head back, eyes shut, grinning like a mad man. JJ wants to seal this moment in resin and place it on his mantle as a keepsake.

You make JJ climb up that cliff and jump into the ocean about five times over, until the sun has almost fully set and you can’t risk the dark. As it slowly inches down and down towards the horizon, you and JJ sit side by side on the grass. Your hand is so close to his, fingers reaching out like growing ivy, teasing at making contact. The moment the jumping was done, you’d returned all your jewellery to your body. It sparkles with the damp. As his eyes drift down from your profile to your figure, he picks up on those handmade bracelets again.

“What’s with the friendship bracelets?” JJ asks.

You look down at them then up at JJ. “I make them.”

“Why?”

Laughing, you shrug. “I don’t know. Why does anyone do anything?”

“Do you sell them?”

“No,” you say, messing with one. “I just enjoy doing it. I make them for my friends.”

“That’s sweet,” JJ hums, looking back out to the view.

“What about your shark tooth necklace? Someone make that for you?” you ask.

JJ glances down at it. “My ma. She used to collect shark teeth that washed up on the beach.”

“Well, she’s pretty talented,” you smile. “Maybe she can make one for me, one day.”

JJ swallows thickly, jaw ticking tight. “She, uh, ain't around anymore.”

“Oh…I'm sorry.”

“It’s alright. You didn’t know.”

The awkward quiet that comes passes like a summer breeze. Sighing contentedly, the two of you watch as the world gets darker and darker, and the sun gets lower and lower.

“So, how are you finding it?”

“Finding what?” you ask.

JJ gestures to himself, to everything around him.  “This. Pogue-life. Rebelling against your dad. Not doing as you’re told.”

You laugh, shaking your head. JJ watches as you pull your knees up to your chest, sitting dainty as a robin balanced on a branch. Tucking some hair behind your ears, you look out to the horizon as if caught in a daydream. A solemn look threatens to cross your face as you say, “it’s making me realise just how much I’ve been missing out on.”

And that…JJ wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting one of your usual playful jabs, soaked in sarcasm. Not that. It makes you more human and less Kook. More real. More attainable, even, for JJ. It’s like with every minute he spends in your orbit, he gets closer and closer to you. But everyone knows the story of Icarus, and what happens when you fly too close to the sun.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the fourth date, JJ’s practically foaming at the mouth, feral from restraint.

He still hadn’t kissed you. Hadn’t had the opportunity. You’d kept teasing him with it, temporarily placing it on the table before taking it away. He knew he had to go about this carefully. One wrong move and he could screw up all his hard work and send you off running.

What surprised JJ more than most was the fact that feeling your body under him was one of the lowest ranking motivators to spend time with you. Don’t get it twisted – it was still a pretty bloody strong motivator – but JJ wanted to know you and be known by you. You were interesting and captivating, and caring and kind. You were funny and had this sweet sense of humour that glimmered through from time to time, like a kaleidoscope hanging from a window-frame. With every minute in your company, his prejudice of Kooks was dismantled piece by piece. One run in with Rafe or Topper and it would probably be rekindled ten-fold, but for now, JJ learnt to see past it. You were a little out of touch but you didn’t act like you were better than him. Then again, he hadn’t taken you to his house or the Chateau yet. He kept the dates on common ground, where he never felt out of his depths or wallowing within them.

You hit like a crisp, ice-cold beer on the hottest day of summer. More intoxicating than any blunt he’s ever smoked, or any line he’s ever snorted. Light like a feather in how you move, soft like rain and driven like fresh laid snow. You had hijacked nearly all of JJ’s thoughts, in one way or another, and it fucking terrified him.

“So, I went for white and pastel blue. I think they’re cute. What do you think?”

You hold your fingers out for JJ to inspect your nails. JJ couldn’t care less about nails – half the time, his are dirtied with mud and oil – but you care an awful lot, so he can pretend. To be honest, he had only been half-listening to your story. His eyes had been fixated on your lips, daydreaming about how they’d feed against his own, how soft they might be as he nips at them with his teeth, how wet they might be if he were to slip his dick between them…

“JJ?”

He blinks out of his gutter-brain and takes in your nails.

“They’re pretty. I like the, uh, sheen on them,” he says.

You practically become alight with the comment. It feels like another brownie point that he can tally. Bringing them to your gaze, you nod fervently. “Right? I’ve never gotten metallic powder on them but I think I like it.”

With that, you sigh and lay back on your towel. The two of you are at the beach and have been since two in the afternoon. It’s now nearly seven in the evening. JJ thinks you’re at your prettiest in the golden hour. It’s like God himself is shining a spotlight on you, highlighting every perfection of your features. The way your designer jewellery twinkles in the rays, the sun-kissed sheen of your cheeks, the ethereal-like glow of your eyes…It’s taking everything not to look at your body, proudly displayed in a bikini. It’s blue. It seems you like blue an awful lot.

JJ distracts himself from your figure and his tightening swim shorts by petting Ranger. He’d tagged along for the day and is currently napping in the sun. You’d brought plenty of water and dog snacks to keep him going. JJ had supplied the seltzers and bag of chips for the two of you. He’d noted how you’d been making one can last for about two hours. He wondered if you’d been tipsy before, or drunk even.

When he looks back to you, eyes sweeping up your sand-scattered stomach, he finds you threading the seashells you’d been collecting throughout the day on string. You’d brought a little kit with you in your bag and had spent the last three hours making jewellery on and off whilst talking to JJ. You lay in a sea of designer accessories – Ray Ban sunglasses, Dior lip-gloss, Clinique sunscreen – as you craft.

“That’s coming together nice,” he comments.

You glance up to meet his eyes, smiling. “It’s for you.”

“Me?”

“Mhm. Need to check if it fits, actually,” you mumble, shifting onto your knees.

JJ willingly holds out a wrist for you as you coil it around. It looks hilariously dainty on his built form. Seashells and blue and white and silver beads. Then he notices the small letters you’d interwoven into the design. JJ. His heart makes that awful, jarring tug again. JJ can’t decide he likes this effect you have on him.

“Perfect,” you say.

You tie it off and fasten it around his wrist. He shakes his arm out a little to check its fit. You’re right: it’s perfect.

The moment your eyes glance up from his arm, meeting his, JJ forgets all his manners. He takes your face in one hand and presses his lips to yours. You let out a gasp as he does, hands coming up to press at his shoulders, pushing him off.

“What are you doing?” you gasp, fingers flying up to your lips.  

His heart is loud in his ears, hammering like he’s thirteen and having his first kiss all over again. In the deafening beat of it, he dumbly replies, “kissing you?”

“Well, you can’t just kiss me,” you say, almost offended. “You have to ask first.”

“Alright…Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes are like raging storms as you stare at him. Anyone would have thought from your expression that he just asked to take you roughly in the streets. Trying to calm yourself with a drawn-out breath, you cock your head.

“Why should you?”

JJ frowns. “What?”

“Why should I let you kiss me?”

Now usually, JJ would be pissed. Annoyed and impatient, and would get up and leave and never look back. But for you, he can’t find it in him. No, it’s all offset by that same damn curiosity that got him here in the first place. You’re like an enigma. A blackhole. He wants desperately to know more, to understand, but is terrified of being sucked in completely. Terrified of what it might all mean.

So, JJ deliberates your question. “Cause you like me?”

“I do?” you ask, quirking your brows.

You must. You wouldn’t have stuck around for this long if you didn’t. Wouldn’t have handmade a bracelet. So, he nods, feeling his confidence grow like the swell of a wave.

“Yeah, you do. I think you like what I bring out of you.”

“Making a lot of assumptions here, Maybank,” you practically warn. But the anger is gone. Gives him hope that he’s on the right track. JJ tries and fails to bite back his smile.

“Maybe,” he says. “But it’s only cause I feel the same way.”

When you don’t speak, he takes it as a cue to continue. As he goes on, his heart shudders with the anxiety that vulnerability brings.

“I like the way I am around you. I like how you make me feel. I like talking to you, and I like hearing you talk. You just have this way of speaking that’s…It just makes everything feel like it’s good. Everything’ll be good.”

Something in what he’s said seems to take you aback. You blink a few times, lips parting as you sit, looking at him all the while. He hopes that if your thoughts are still set on the idea that he’s in this for nothing more than a lay, he’s just proved that wrong. He supposes with his reputation on the island amongst the youngsters, he can’t be all that surprised if that was what you had thought. But surely, after spending so many hours in your company, doing nothing asides from talking and innocently touching, you had seen past that. Didn’t you say that you wanted to get to know him, to see him for yourself?

“Do you mean that?” you quietly ask. It’s almost sad, the tone of your voice and the look on your face, like nobody’s ever said something like that to you before. JJ swallows the sick feeling that it brings.

He nods. “Yeah. I do.”

Slowly, a smile blossoms on your face like the first budding flower of spring. With a small, slight nod, you tell him, barely louder than a whisper, “you can kiss me now.”

JJ does so gladly. But he’s careful with it this time, makes it count. He sweeps one hand from your shoulder, up against your collarbones, until it cups your jaw gently. Tilting your head just-so, he leans forward and pauses just a breadth before your lips. And then, he kisses you. It’s soft and sweet and different to the usual blind-haze rush that JJ finds himself in when making out. The pacing to it makes it almost sensual. The feeling the kiss brings is alien to JJ; he can’t quite place a name to it.

One of your hands finds home on his jaw, exploring his skin, fingers looping into the hair on the back of his neck. When he coaxes your mouth open with his tongue, you sigh gently against his lips.

As the two of you kiss on the beach, that new-found sensation in JJ’s chest intensifies, and then it dawns upon him - this new feeling that your kiss brings. Different from lust and libido.

His eyes fly open. Stomach plummets through the sand.

JJ Maybank is falling in love with you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

As the summer stretched on, JJ realised he’d spent most of June in your company, growing closer and closer. It felt natural now to have your hand intertwined with his. JJ can hardly remember a time when wasn’t talking to you, or talking about you, or thinking of you, or organising his days around meeting you. He knew what it meant, what all of it meant, and this impending feeling of something grew with every word passed and every kiss shared. It almost felt like he was watching a sand-timer. Seeing each grain slip by, counting down until the inevitable end, just like most things in his life did.

He'd introduced you to the Pogues upon everyone’s insistence, including your own. John B was still in disbelief that JJ had managed to keep you around for as long as he had. Pope, on the other hand, was practically suspicious of it. It was as if he needed the cold, hard evidence for proof that JJ wasn’t spinning yarns. Kiara had of course jumped at the opportunity to gloat about the ‘good karma’ she’d bestowed upon JJ, by encouraging him to return Ranger to you. When she’d met you, she’d be apprehensive. Distrusting of your Kook status, having known you more than the others from attending Kook Academy with you. But JJ was sure she’d warm up, bit by bit. It helped that you wanted to try new things. You wanted to try the whole Pogue lifestyle. You let JJ take you surfing and begged to try his bike out. You let John B teach you to fish and wrestled Pope on nights spent around the campfire. You’d share seltzers with Kiara and sang along whenever she played the uke. And, oh, of course you could sing. You’d had lessons, you see, as you had with practically every other extra circular on earth. Piano, violin, ballet, tap…Shit, it was like you were collecting Pokémon or something.  

In fact, it scared JJ how easy it was to pick up on the little details about you. It was like collecting stones on the beach: before you know it, your pockets are weighing you down, filled with tiny little pebbles. You were a fruity girl: cocktails and sangria and wine and seltzers – never beer. You weren’t a heavy drinker. Didn’t partake in shots apart from Cherry Bombs. You preferred sweet over salty; always took creamer and syrup in your coffee, in that order; rom coms from the nineties and noughties were your kryptonite, and you loathed fast and furious; skirts before shorts; Tiffany before Pandora; lip gloss over lip stick. God, the tingly sensation from plumping lip gloss was all too familiar to JJ now, from having it smear off your mouth to his.

After the kiss on the beach, mouths and hands had only continued to wander. It’s like JJ’s admission that this was more than just trying to score you for sex was the passcode to open you up. You weren’t prudish. In fact, when JJ met you, he was half certain that maybe you were a virgin. But no…now he found that very hard to believe.

Saying all that, it still felt bizarre to be seen out in public with you. It wasn’t a secret, had never been really, but JJ remained surprised at how willing you were to take his hand in public. To be seen with him by everyone in the County. It was like you wanted to show him off, parade him around like he was something special, like one of your many Prada purses. It almost made JJ want to question if you had ulterior motives.

“You wanna just split a portion of fries?” JJ asks, looking at The Wreck’s menu. You were there for lunch.

You hum in thought. “Maybe. I want mac and cheese though.”

“We can get that, too. I mean, you’re paying, right?”

You prod him under the table with your foot. He gives a playful laugh, grinning childishly. He’d started calling you his sugar mommy since you had to pay for gas when his card got declined. It softened the sting of embarrassment that came with being broke, especially when compared to you. I mean, even now, he sits in a thrifted t-shirt, the decal on the chest nearly faded with how much it had been worn and washed, whilst you’re in your new threads. Dior threads, for that matter.

“Hiya. You guys ready to order?” the waitress asks.

JJ glances up from the menu and shit. Shit shit shit. The minute his eyes meet hers, recognition dawns upon her. It’s weird seeing this girl – Lily, he thinks her name is – from this angle. Last time they’d seen each other, she’d been laying underneath him…

You’re thankfully blissfully unaware, eyes trained on the menu.

“JJ. Long time no see.”

With that, your head darts up. Great.

“Hey…Lily. How are you?”

At least luck is partly on his side: he got her name right. She places a hand on his waist. “Fine, thanks. Been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

“I’ve been busy,” JJ says.

“I bet. Remember a time when you were busy with other things…”

Her tone speaks volumes, as do her eyes as she surveys his body, smiling flirtatiously.

Suddenly, your hand is extending across the table, towards Lily. JJ looks to you to find a sickly, sweet smile on your face.

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” you say, voice honied. She shakes your hand as you introduce yourself. “You know JJ?”

“We have a…history, of sorts,” Lily replies.

“Oh. Well, any friend of JJ’s is a friend of mine.”

Looking to JJ, there’s an emotion in your eyes that he’s never seen before. It’s terrifying and sexy as hell. Raising a hand, your fingers leisurely splay across the expanse of JJ’s shoulder, manicured nails digging-in only so. Not enough to cause damage but enough to make a point. Enough to mark your territory.

“Babe? Can you order for me?”

“Uh, course,” JJ says, clearing his throat.

Looking down at the menu, eyes not even fixating on any of the words, JJ reals of an order. Lily scribbles it down, takes the menus, and leaves without another word. The minute she’s out of sight, you drop the act, hand unlatching from his body. JJ raises his brows, holding back his laugh as he turns to you.

"What a bitch," you mutter. You wash away your words with a sip of your water.

“Didn’t take you as the jealous type.”

“Yeah, well, some girls need to learn when to shut their traps,” you lowly return. Sighing, you close your eyes and shake your head. “Sorry. That wasn’t very girls-girl of me.”

“Mm. If only your daddy could hear you now,” JJ adds, sighing disapprovingly.

You shoot him an unimpressed glare. JJ brings his glass to his lips, having a sip of his water.

“You sleep with her?”

JJ chokes and coughs. “Jesus. Straight shooter."

“Better not be talking about yourself there, Maybank.”

JJ laughs, putting his cup down. Looking to you, he shrugs. “Yeah. Like…three months ago, alright? It was before we met.”

“Mhm. You sleep with anyone since we met?” you wonder.

JJ can’t place your tone but something tells him that this question will make or break him. Thankfully, there isn’t even a need to lie. “No.”

“You swear?”

“Scout’s honour,” he says, lifting three fingers whilst simultaneously marking his heart with a cross.  “Shit, I don’t want you to claw my eyes out. Or any other girls, for that matter.”

You shove his shoulder gently, smile creeping back to your lips. “Shut up. Like I’d ever. The Bible frowns upon it.”

“What about ‘an eye for an eye’?”

“Ooh. Somebody went to Sunday School,” you tease.

“Yeah, just so I could gawk at you,” he smoothly returns, winking for good measure. With that, JJ knows he’s back in your good books.

When Lily brings the food over, she doesn’t try to strike up any conversation. Dare JJ say, she looks terrified to be within a foot of the table. JJ knew you had an edge but this is different. This possessiveness, this proprietorial energy that came over you…Fuck, he knows what’s the newest addition to his wank-bank.

The two of you eat, talking about what you should do tomorrow (because, of course, he’ll spend tomorrow with you) and then JJ desperately tries to give constructive feedback to your latest Pinterest board of hairstyle inspiration. He gets up to pay. It’ll probably cost half his wage but it’s worth it. I mean, this meal is pretty dismal compared to the feasts you’re used to, but you never complain. Saying that, it doesn’t go unnoticed that when it’s on your dime, you’re far more willing to get a lemonade and a dessert. When it’s JJ paying, you say you’re happy with tap water and splitting a side. It’s mildly mortifying.

Lily is stood at the counter. “Ready to pay?”

“Tell me the damage,” is JJ’s reply.

“Twenty dollars thirty,” she says, punching buttons on the register.

JJ’s stomach twists. Fuck, he hopes his card doesn’t decline. She holds out the machine for him and he swipes his card.

“How long has that been going on then?” Lily asks.

JJ follows her gaze to you. You’re sat at the table, reapplying Dior lip gloss with an Armani compact mirror. He’s half convinced that if anything bought from Target touched your skin you might implode.

“Bout a month,” he says.

“Hm. Never took her as one to venture out of Figure Eight.”

“Never took you as one to judge random people,” JJ counters, anger ticking with her unneeded commentary.

“I’m just saying. She’s a Kook, JJ.”

“Did it go through?” he asks, cutting the conversation short.

Lily sighs, looking down at the card machine. Nodding, she goes to get his receipt. But before she hands it over, she feels the need to add, “just…maybe ask yourself what she’s getting out of this? Girls like that…They’re sneaky. Just, watch your back.”

JJ takes the receipt hastily and walks off before he can’t bite his tongue any longer. As much as it pisses him off to hear someone who doesn’t even know you talk like that, there was a sincerity to Lily’s voice that speaks to JJ’s insecurities. Massages them. It certainly doesn’t help that the minute JJ arrives back at the table, you ask, “did you have enough?”

JJ hates how the rest of the day, that one interaction – that one moment – at the Wreck keeps him disconnected from you. Anytime you ask what’s wrong, it’s the same excuse: ‘I’m just tired, s’all.’ But whenever there’s a second for thought, Lily’s voice echoes around his head.

Ask yourself what she’s getting out of this.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“How in the hell do you not get lost in this place?” JJ asks you as you wander through your house.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I grew up here.”

It’s laughable, the difference of JJ’s house to yours. He’s never taken you to his home; kept your dates and hangouts to the Chateau or the Twinkie, or anywhere but his house. He’s half-certain that you might just dip if you saw the state that he lives in. Plus, he can’t risk his dad showing up and meeting you. He’d hate you – the same way he hated most people – and again, you’d be gone in a second. In fact, as more time passes, JJ realises more and more that he’s got an eye on the door, waiting for you to walk through it without a second glance.

“You want some tea?” you ask. JJ shrugs his yes. He’s never tried it before but no time like the present, right?

You guide the two of you to the kitchen. As you pass by room after room, JJ nervously glances around. “So, uh…Your dad or mom home, or?”

“Relax, Maybank,” you grin. “They’re on a cruise. They don’t get back until Tuesday.”

“Oh, cool, cool. I mean, I ain't have been bothered if they were home.”

You bark out a laugh. Opening a kitchen cupboard, you talk as you retrieve two mugs. “Oh really? So you haven’t been avoiding my house like the plague because of my parents?”

JJ rolls his eyes. Busted. You go to heat up the water, grabbing two fruit tea bags and depositing them in each mug. JJ looks around the kitchen, searching for a certain dog. As if you can hear his thoughts, you say, “Ranger’s in the sunroom. If you call him, he’ll probably come.”

So, JJ does just that. Sure enough, Ranger trudges through the house and into the kitchen, tail wagging. He looks as if he’s just woken up from a nap. JJ grins, watching as his energy returns the moment he sets eyes on yourself and JJ, and the blonde-haired boy falls to his knees, arms outstretched. God, he missed this old fart of a dog.

“Why don’t you bring him along to the Chateau more?”

“Where would he ride? We always take your bike,” you laugh.

“Probably for the best, anyway. John B would definitely try and steal him,” JJ mumbles.

“Oh, and you wouldn’t?”

Insecurity picks at JJ like a scab. “What does that mean?”

You quirk a brow, unaware of the almost offence caused. “JJ, you would pick that dog over me in a heartbeat, if it came down to it.”

Of course. Of course you were talking about the dog, and not making some dig about his family reputation, or his sticky fingers. Shit, it’s like ever since that day at the Wreck, his insecurities had tripled in size and volume. Every time you looked at him, JJ wasn’t sure if you were passing judgement and he hated himself for it: for becoming so suspicious of you, when you’d done nothing to warrant it. But he couldn’t help it. It was like a reflex.

Once the tea is made and Ranger’s retired back in another sunny patch to sleep, the two of you head upstairs to your bedroom. JJ began to recount the story of the Grady White discovery and the Motel Room after the last hurricane’s end. He’s half certain that you don’t fully believe him.

“So, what did you find in the motel room?” you ask, pushing open your bedroom door.

“It was fucking crazy! Like a shit ton of money and this weird map. Oh, yeah, and…” JJ ditches his backpack by the foot of your bed and unzips it. Proud as a Superbowl jock, he presents the gun he stole. “This.”

Your mouth drops open. You place the two mugs of tea on your desk (on coasters, because of course) and reach out for it. JJ frowns and holds it out of your reach.

“Let me hold it.”

This reaction, out of all the reactions, was the one he expected the least. “No way.”

“Come on!”

“Nu-uh. You’ll shoot my dick off."

Rolling your eyes, you quip, “wouldn’t that be a gift for mankind? Come on!”

Sighing, he relents. Double checks the safety is on before passing the gun to you. You hold it like it’s a priceless artefact or a Louboutin heel (both as equal in value to yourself).

“It’s heavier than I thought,” you mumble, inspecting it.

Is it bad that JJ thinks you look unbelievably hot holding a gun right now? Probably. He can address that later in life when he eventually winds up in therapy.

“Yeah, these things are the shit,” JJ boasts, taking it back. He pretends to aim with it, gun pointed directly at one of your bears. At your scolding he puts it away again. “Anyway, now we got this dumb ass compass. JB thinks it’s got a clue in it, but I’m not so sure.”

JJ accepts the tea that you offer him as the two of you take perch on your bed, you at the foot and him at the head. You sit cross legged, nodding along to his tale, interested. JJ’s not entirely sure why he’s telling you this, especially when he was so adamant that the Pogues keep it on the down low, but something in him tells him that it’s okay for you to know. Useful, even, though he has no idea how. When he wraps up the story, he takes in your room. It’s just as he pictured it to be. Immaculately clean, psychopath level organised, decorated with brand after brand, China-white and pastel blue detailing every turn of the head. Looking back to you, he sniggers.

“You look like a witch right now.”

You take in the way you’re sitting and laugh, making a point to cradle your mug of tea between two hands. God, you’re adorable. The years of ballet have paid off: your back is straight as an arrow. The two of you sit in comfortable silence as you sip your tea. Outside, you can hear the sounds of nature pass by. There’s something understated and special about spending time with someone without feeling the need to fill the gaps. Just…existing. As JJ finishes his tea, you nod to his empty mug.

“Want me to read your tea leaves?” you ask.

JJ eyes you up, entertained. “No way you know how to do that.”

“Course I do. Here.”

You put your mug down on the windowsill and hold out a hand out for his. He passes you the empty mug and leans back against the cushioned headboard. Hell, if he had a bed like this, he’d never leave. You hum in deep contemplative thought as you look into the mug. Eyebrows knitting together, lips pursing, you study the scraps of tea leaves intently. JJ tries to stifle his laughs. It’s clearly a ploy. He can see right through the act.

“Ah, well…These are very good leaves,” you suddenly announce.

JJ plays along. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm. Yeah, yeah, I see a great fortune in your future,” you tell him. A glance up to his face, stupid grin on your lips, and then back to the mug. “Mhm. Yep, I see a…A boat.”

“Oh yeah? A Grady White by any chance?” JJ jests.

“Oh, no. This thing…It’s like the titanic. Big ship.”

“You have a way with words, princess.”

“And! A rainforest! And stones!”

“Alright, this tea’s gone to your head,” JJ laughs, reaching over for his mug.

You giggle as he takes it back, ditching it half-arsed on the bedside table so he can drag you to him by your forearms. Half tumbling forward, your hands ungainly catch yourself on his sturdy frame. You’re still laughing as he kisses you. JJ smiles against your mouth.

“I’m telling you,” you manage out through kisses and giggles. “You’re gonna be very fortunate in your future.”

“Mm, I’m fortunate now,” JJ replies, chasing your lips.

He uses a hand to hoist you further into his lap. You finally find purchase, a hand sliding along his neck, tantalisingly slow and smooth. As JJ’s lips creep along your jaw and inch down your neck, you lean your head, giving him more and more canvas to work with.

“I’m very lucky, you know,” you say, sounding short of breath.

JJ just hums. He continues his tapestry of love bites and kisses as you ramble on. He loves how soft it is with you; how there’s time for pause, for thought, for laughter. It’s the polar opposite to what he knows. Frenzied hands and sex in a timeframe. The patience of sex with you isn’t without heat, though. It isn’t like a married couple who can hardly remember what they liked about one another, chasing a high before drifting off to sleep. No, it’s like how people take time to pray. Like how musicians fawn over their music for hours, bit by bit, until perfection. So, JJ revels in your half-meaningful speech, slurred like you’re drunk despite being stone-cold sober, as he gently eases your cardigan off your shoulders.

“Every dance team I’ve been on, we’ve won…”

As JJ’s lips descend to your chest, you sigh. Fingers tightening just-so in his hair, spurring him on. One of his hands stays placed on your hip, a thumb rubbing circles on your exposed waist.

“Probably just ‘cause you’re a good dancer,” JJ mumbles against your skin.

“Not just that, though,” you muse. “I’m a good luck charm, I’m telling you. Nothing bad ever happens to the people around me. I’m lucky.”

Whatever you say, JJ thinks as he unhooks your bra. You help guide it off, sitting back against JJ’s thighs and lifting a perfectly manicured hand to his jaw. Your skin is soft like Mother of Pearl. Not a single cut or nick. Guiding his face up until his gaze meets yours, you lean down and press your lips to his. There’s no more laughter and no more silly stories. There’s no room in JJ’s brain to conjure anything other than thoughts of you. Your hair and your skin and your perfume and your nails and you. God, he wants to consume you. Breathe you in like vapour, soak you up like sunlight, feel you like the weather, all over him.

Nobody’s prettier than you.

Nobody prettier from this view, nestled between your thighs, almost suffocating as he swallows you up. More and more – insatiable. The distinct taste of you sits heavy on his tongue. It spurs him on like cocaine, energy unrelenting as he goes down on you. The sounds you make, the way you grab at him, grasp at the sheets, writhe and wriggle like it’s too much, like you can’t take it. But you can. Have before. Will again.

Your body bends to JJ’s will like water. You’re so trusting of him; have been ever since you met him. Let him take you how he wants, faithful in the pleasure he’ll give you. Usually JJ didn’t care much if girls thought him selfish in bed, but you? No, he needed you to give the mark of approval. He needed your praise, your validation, like his sex wouldn’t have meaning if you didn’t think it worthwhile. The way you fit around him; JJ swears to God it’s like you were made for him. He has you on your front, fucking you into the mountain of throw pillows that make up the head of your bed. He keeps your hips and ass angled upwards, holding you steady as he ruts into you over and over again. You’re a drooling, moaning mess underneath him. One of your hands is clenching and releasing the sheets much like your walls are to him. Having you like this – Christ, it makes JJ feel like a young God.

When you fall apart, it pushes JJ over the edge too, almost like a suicide pact. He’s not sure heroin could touch ecstasy quite like it. Drifting away on dopamine, JJ pulls out of you and flops onto his back, chest heaving. You shuffle atop of your sheets, curling up as you let the afterglow take over. JJ knows he should dote on you but he’s so tired and spent. After tying off and tossing the condom out in your bedroom trash, and tugging on his boxers, JJ lays back down on the bed beside you, flat on his back. One of your hands rests on his chest – damp with sweat. Just for a minute, JJ thinks. I’ll just close my eyes for one minute.

JJ tunes into the sensation of you stroking the bare skin of his back. It rouses him from sleep. Somehow, in his tiredness, he’d rolled over onto his front. Your sheets smell of fabric conditioner and safety. Goose feather pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets; a memory foam mattress that mimics what JJ might imagine falling asleep on a marshmallow to feel like.

“JJ?” You continue to run the side of your hand up and down his skin. "Are you awake?"

"No," he mumbles into the sheets.

“I want us to make this official.”

JJ groans sleepily. “Wha’dya mean?”

“I mean, I want us to put a label on this thing. I want to be your girlfriend, and I want you to be my boyfriend.”

It’s like the mattress has become a gaping wormhole and it’s sucking him in. That very thing that he was drawn to, entranced with, that very thing that he was learning and dreading to be true, every little insecurity and anxiety that had built and built since the second date…It’s all arriving at once, hitting him hard and fast like a meteor strike. 

JJ turns his head, looking up at you. You’re watching him patient, a giddy-type smile on your face, slightly disquieted with nerves.

“Well…How do you know that?”

Brows furrowing, your smile doesn’t move. Shrugging, you say, “I don’t know…I just know. I…I know it because I feel it.”

Those words do nothing to ease the panic that’s building up JJ’s body. He shuffles until he’s sat upright, staring you down like you’re something dangerous. For some reason, your innocent request feels like a trap to him. A con. A joke that he’ll be the unwilling punchline of if he agrees. And he realises what that impending feeling was, all this time. It was him waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Lucy’s point to come true and for the curtains to be pulled. To find out what the hell you wanted with him.

“You can’t just say things like that. That’s a really messed up thing to say to someone,” JJ mutters, moving away from you.

You’re frowning now, befuddled. “Why is it? It’s true, and it’s how I feel. I want to make us official. I want us to be together.”

“Well, you’re saying that now but what about if we do get together, and I meet your parents and your friends, and you realise how different we are but you feel like you’re stuck with me, and then all of it was for nothing.”

Face the picture of perplexed, your mouth contorts into something ugly. “Where is all of this coming from? What did you think we were doing? I mean, we’ve been fine this past month and I know that there’s something between us.”

“How do you?”

“Because I’m not stupid, JJ,” you sharply reply.

Good, JJ thinks. You’re getting angry. You’ll lose your temper and you’ll let something slip that you weren’t supposed to, and he can bolt without a muddied conscience. He moves away from the bed and starts grabbing his strewn-about clothes in a frenzy to bolt. 

“If there’s something between us, why haven’t I met any of your friends yet?”

You stare at him. He takes your hesitation as confirmation to his doubts. Pointing accusingly at you, he snarls, “because you’re embarrassed of me. You’re embarrassed to be seen with a Pogue-nobody from the Cut, in front of your Kook friends.”

“What is your obsession with me being a Kook!?” you exclaim. “Have you ever noticed how I never bring it up? How it’s always you, JJ, talking about it.”

“Well, I feel like I ought'a!”

“Why!?” you vociferate. 

“Because what the hell do you want with me anyway!? You’re going to mess around with me for the summer, and get your kicks, and rebel against dear-old daddy, and then ditch me for some Kook jackass, who you’ll marry and he’ll take you on ski trips and summer’s in the Hamptons, and send your snotty children to expensive summer camps, and then you’ll laugh with all your trust-fund friends about how you went slumming once too.”

With that narrative, you laugh in disbelief, mystified. “What kind of fucking story are you spinning?”

“One that’s based on nothing but the facts,” JJ shouts. He’s shaking and angry, but it’s just his panic in disguise. He saw a glimpse of happiness with you and instinctively wanted to smash it up, like a psychopath child and a harmless butterfly.  “I mean, you said it yourself - you wanted to do what you’re not supposed to do, for a change. Have a taste of rebellion and then go back to your rich-ass bubble wrap.”

JJ’s seen you possessive before. He’s seen you jealous, and scared, and snippy. But he’s never seen you angry. It’s horrifying. 

“Did it ever occur to you that all of that has nothing to do with you? Has nothing to do with you being a Pogue, or me being a Kook?” you yell. Hands flying up to your chest, holding on like your heart might fall out of your skeleton, your voice turns thick. “I was miserable JJ! I was never allowed to do anything; never allowed to go anywhere. I did what my parents told me to do. I went to bed by nine every night. I was wasting my time with all these fucking after-school extra-circulars which I don’t even care about! I hate ballet! I hate piano! Christ, I hate all of it! And my friends are fake as anything. They say one thing to my face, and come to my house for pool parties, and then bitch about me behind my back! They’re assholes, JJ! So, yeah, I didn’t want to waste my time introducing you to them because I don’t actually like them!”

His lips start to quiver uncomfortably as he watches you unravel. It’s like JJ was pulling and pulling on a spring, and now he has to stand and watch it snap.

Make-up free, hair still tousled from earlier, oversized t-shirt half hanging off your frame: there’s no Kook defining thing about you here. It’s just you - just as it always had been. 

JJ’s heart cracks as a tear falls down your cheek. With a shaky breath, in a quiet, defeated voice, you tell him, “I wanted to go out with you because I wanted to live. Because most of the time, I feel so useless and so alone that I wonder if I’m even here at all.” 

And hearing you say that finally allows the curtain to fall. Only, it revealed to JJ something entirely different to what he expected. To what he’d told himself time and time again. Seeing you cry on your bed because of him…JJ’s made some real big mistakes in his life, but this one surpasses them all. 

“So don’t put your shit on me because you’re the one that’s afraid,” you say, stealing yourself as you aggressively wipe your eyes. JJ’s narrow. It’s like poking a searing hot skewer into his most tender of wounds. 

“Afraid? What do I have to be afraid of?”

“You’re afraid of me! You’re afraid that I won’t love you back! You’re afraid of what all the shallow people in the County will think! You know what, JJ? I’m afraid too! But fuck it - I want to give a try!”

It feels as exposing as having you peel back his skin. JJ pulls on his t-shirt and shakes his head, turning for the bedroom door, mumbling something about ‘I’m not doing this right now.’ 

You dart from the bed and grab at his arm, stopping him. “No. No, you’re not leaving,” you blubber. 

JJ yanks out of your grip, turning around, lashing out like a stray animal approached all too quick. “What do you wanna know!” He yells. You recoil. “What? That I don’t have a great life? That I’m jealous of how you live compared to me! That I don’t want you to see how I really live because I’m ashamed shitless of it!”

You’re crying, hard, but JJ can’t find it in himself to stop. Why won’t he stop? The butterfly is dead, wings torn from the body, antenas shattered from the beating: but it’s like he doesn’t even want dust to remain. 

“That my dad beats the shit out of me, so I sleep at John B’s house!? That I’ll probably end up in a prison cell or an early grave!? You ain't wanna hear that shit! Don’t tell me you want to hear that shit!”

“I do want to hear that stuff! I do want to hear it!” you argue through your sobs. You lift your hands as if you might try and cup his face. “I just want to help you.”

He retracts from your almost-there hold. “Help me! What the fuck! What, do I got a fucking sign on my back that says Save Me?”

“No!”

“Do I look like I need that!?”

Reaching for him again, tears streaming, you wail, “no! God, I just want to be with you because I love you!” 

JJ grabs at your wrists, driving you away from him, driving you towards the door until your back presses against it, all the while yelling at you. Don’t bullshit me! Don’t fucking bullshit me! 

JJ’s never been lucky to have good things. He waits for his friends to get up and leave. Knows his dad will too, one day, just like his ma. He’ll end up alone, drunk, high, and not long after, dead. You? You’re just a glitch in his programming. A girl who saw a project - yeah, that’s it. A girl who saw a project, a thing to fix, and the moment you have will be the moment that you get bored, and leave him broken hearted and alone. JJ knows more than anyone: you’ve got to leave before you get left. 

But as you’re standing with your back against the wall, you don’t cower from him. Don’t wait for him to land a hit on you. Always so trusting. And seeing you, crying, sobbing, begging for him to listen to you, repeating that you love him over and over…JJ knows you’re not the malicious enemy he’s created in his mind. He knows you’re not. 

“I want you to tell me that you don’t love me." A shuddering breath, trying to calm your quivering voice. “Because, if you do, I won’t call you anymore. And I won’t be in your life…”

And JJ’s never been good at admitting when he’s wrong. Maybe he learnt it from his dad. Maybe it’s a defensive mechanism. Maybe it’s dumb, childish youth that he never outgrew. So, as you sob, waiting for him to say something - to say you love him - JJ feels his face turn to stone. Cold, emotionless stone.

“I don’t love you.”

He grabs the rest of his shit in one quick sweep and he leaves your bedroom before he has to see the long-lasting damage he once again inflicted on someone. Slams the door. Rushes down the stairs. Passes the barking Ranger, alarmed by all the yelling, and dresses as he stumbles to the front door. In the air of the driveway, he takes a gasping breath, cringing with melancholic agony. Panic rises in his chest like a fist is clenching around his heart, over and over. He raises a hand, rubbing at the uncomfortable pain. JJ knows this feeling well. Knows it from childhood and from adolescence. Knows it almost as much as he knows breathing. 

Heartbreak.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ distracted himself with drinking, smoking and treasure hunting. Indulged at night and diverted throughout the day to avoid any thoughts of you. He was lucky, in a way, that his friends were there to keep him busy. They only asked once why he wasn’t seeing you anymore, wondering why you were never around, and learnt their lesson never to ask again. He tried to hide behind the lie that he’d so easily told himself: that you were a spoilt-bitch Kook who would have ditched him soon anyway. But he remembers your voice and your face clear as day, begging for him to tell you that he loved you. He can picture all too easily your reaction the minute he stepped away from you, after telling the worst lie of his life. 

Throwing himself into work was a good distraction. It’s hard to think about you when he’s thinking about how heavy the motor is that he’s lugging, or how close he’s cutting it on time to deliver groceries with Pope. His hurt made him wreckless, like he deserved whatever bad thing might come. You were good karma for returning Ranger and his mistreatment was bound to be paid back to him by the universe. Maybe that was why he’d been so eager to exact revenge on Topper and Rafe. Their attack on Pope certainly made it easier for JJ to handle his hurt when he was reminded of how awful most Kooks are. It was almost possible to group you in with them, to help mitigate the sting of guilt that came whenever your name crossed his mind. Almost. 

But, like always, the consequences of his actions were bound to catch up to him. So, as JJ sits beside Pope and Kiara watching the outdoor movie play under the watchful gaze of Topper, Rafe and Kelce, he knows bad things are coming.

“JJ,” Pope says, nudging his leg. 

“What?”

“Gotta take a piss.”

JJ’s leg is quivering with building adrenaline. “Hold it.”

“I can’t hold it. I drank too much soda.”

“It’s too exposed, they’ll totally see us,” JJ argues. 

“I gotta go,” Pope insists. 

JJ purses his lips and glances back over his shoulder the same time Pope turns around. Their eyes land on the three pissed off Kooks, sat like mob bosses, biding their time. They might as well be smoking a pipe and stroking their one-eyed cat like some '50s Bond villain. 

“They’re blocking the bathrooms,” Pope observes. 

Yeah, no shit. JJ looks around, noticing the woodland behind the giant projection screen. “Alright, come here. I know where.” 

The two of them get to their feet, hunching over as they go to move. When Kiara asks where they’re going, JJ shrugs and tells her, ‘we gotta ring it out.’ With that, they venture to the screen and relieve themselves just behind it, out of view, into the shrubs. As they piss, Pope and JJ banter. JJ finishes first, zipping up his fly and turning around to keep watch. 

“You bring the peacemaker?” Pope asks, referring to JJ’s beloved gun. 

His stomach drops. “Oh, shit, I forgot it.”

“You forgot it?”

“Hurry up! Hurry up!”

“Dude, you had one job. That’s all I asked you to do, man,” Pope complains as he finishes up.  

“I know, let’s go,” JJ quickly replies. The moment he turns, JJ comes face to face with Rafe. Fuck. 

“What’s up Pogues?”

“What’s up, Rafe?” JJ casually replies, walking backwards with Pope as Rafe approaches steadfast. He won’t let on that he’s scared - learnt that from his dad. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

As Pope tries to make a run for it, Topper emerges, Kelce in tow. “Hey that was some nice work you did on my boat!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Pope fumbles.

JJ assesses the situation. Three on two. Pope isn’t the strongest fighter. No gun. Yeah, the odds are not stacked in their favour. 

“Not so burly without a gun now, are you?” Rafe taunts. 

JJ’s jaw ticks, his anger rising with his annoyance. The adrenaline is pumping and working its usual magic. Bring it on, pussy. I can take a few licks - it’s my birth-right. 

“Take one more step and I’ll rip that prepubescent face off,” JJ warns through clenched teeth. He watches as Topper approaches Pope leisurely. 

“Hey Pope, do you feel good about yourself, stealing shit? Is your mom proud of you? Is your dad proud of you?”

Pope slams his head into Topper’s upper chest and pride swills through JJ. “Attaboy! Attaboy!” He grabs his friend’s shoulder, lifting his clenched fist. “Now with your fist, see?”

With that, Rafe claims him. They begin to get in a dust-up. JJ takes the first few punches; each one that lands on his cheek brings searing hot pain that quickly vanishes with shock. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug. He taps into the pit inside of him, deep and angry and bitter. His self-hatred, for all the shit he put you through, for all the shit his dad and mom pegged on him…Throws his own punches, then. Wrestles too. Blood begins to draw. Lips crack open. Eyebrows split. But then it’s two on one: Kelce grabbing at him, holding him steady so Rafe can just lay into him. JJ’s winded as Rafe’s fist meets his stomach. He collapses in Kelce’s hold as Rafe right hooks him. And every hit, JJ takes like it’s his earnt punishment. 

“Come on, Rafe,” JJ provokes through the agonising pain. “That all you got?”

“Let go of him Topper! You fascist asshole!” 

Kiara. She helps Pope first, hitting Topper with JJ’s backpack. At least, that’s what JJ sees through the double vision. The backpack. The gun. Topper grabs it off her and tosses it, and then JJ’s too busy getting the shit beaten out of him to see what follows. It’s all just noise. Blends almost cinematically with the sound of the old-timey movie playing. At some point, it even sounds like there’s a dog barking. Blood fills his mouth like he’s at some sadistic dentist surgery. Pain numbs his nerve endings and softens his muscles. Air becomes a rarity as he’s held in a headlock, half-strangled. 

“Let go of them right now!”

Everyone goes still. JJ only notices because he finally has a second to catch his breath, gasping as the arm around his throat loosens just slightly. He opens his eyes, desperate to get his vision steady, and…no fucking way. 

There you stand like some designer vigilante heroine. Hair perfect, as always, with not a strand out of place; jewellery to the nines; make-up enhancing your gorgeous features. In your hand, clasped between perfectly manicured nails, is JJ’s gun. It’s pointed directly at Rafe’s forehead. 

Rafe laughs. “What? That supposed to scare me or something?”

You grit your teeth, harden your stare, and remain stoic and strong in your stance. Rafe just quirks a brow, a sick smile twisting upwards. 

“Oh, what, you’re gonna be the hero here? Why don’t you just run back to your daddy and mind your own fucking business?”

“Let. Them. Go.”

JJ realises then that Ranger is standing by your side. He’s growling, looking feral like Cujo, salivating at the mouth, death-glare set on Kelce who still holds JJ in a headlock. Your command and Kelce might lose a leg. 

“What’s it to you?” Topper snaps. 

“They’re my friends.”

Okay, no, JJ must have fucking blacked out or something. In the brain damage caused by Rafe, he’s seeing things. You’re his own guardian angel that his dying brain has conjured - that is the only explanation. 

All of the Kooks laugh. “Your friends?”

“I won’t ask you again,” you darkly warn, not a spit of humour in your voice. 

Rafe whistles lowly. He mockingly raises his hands to his head in surrender. Shares a laugh with Topper and Kelce. It vanishes the minute you unclip the safety. 

“You wouldn’t,” Rafe tells you. 

Slowly, maleficently, the faintest shadow of a smirk forms on your lip-glossed mouth. “You really want to test that theory?”

And that, ladies and gentleman, is how JJ Maybank ended up in the most insane predicament of his life. Nobody knows what you’re going to do next: not JJ, and probably not even you. As JJ waits, his eyes dart down to Ranger. The very thing that started all of this. 

Rafe sniffs. He juts his head at Kelce. When Kelce finally lets JJ go, Topper does the same with Pope. Kiara helps Pope up. JJ leans over, hands on his knees, coughing and gasping in air. 

“You’re gonna regret this, you know that? Better keep a fucking eye out, princess,” Rafe warns you as he saunters away with his posse. If JJ wasn’t on the brink of passing out, he’d lay him out for even looking at you.

The minute the three Kooks round the screen, acting as if nothing even happened, you drop the gun on the backpack and race over to JJ. It’s hard not to flinch after his moments-before assault when you clutch his shoulders. He realises that you’re shaking. Hears in the quiver of your voice how shit-scared you are. 

“Oh my God! Are you okay? Can you breathe?”

No and no. 

“Do you need to sit down? What should I–”

No, definitely don’t sit down. 

“Come on - we need to go,” Kiara tells you. She has Pope’s weight on her.

You seem to copy, taking her guidance from her years of experience with hanging with the guys, and guide JJ away from the scene of the crime. You grab the backpack as you go, the gun shoved inside (safety now on). Ranger licks anxiously at JJ’s hand, whining in worry. 

“I’m alright, boy,” JJ lies to the dog in a slur.

swirling, becoming blacker and blacker with every step. His body is screaming for rest and reprieve. He vaguely overhears you tell Kie where you’re parked. Lets you half-drag him to your ride. The minute JJ’s helped into the backseat, safe in the smell of you, he blacks out. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The first thing JJ notices when he wakes up is how much his head hurts. There’s a headache above his brows, similar to that which you get when hungover. It feels like his brain was a ping pong ball, rattled around in there for hours on end. Sniffing, he groans as he tries to sit up. There’s a hand pushing him back down to the bed gently. 

“Just lie still, for now,” you say softly. “No sudden movements, okay?” 

JJ groans again, eyes pressed shut. At the sensation of a straw pressing against his lips, he drinks. 

“Open your mouth,” you say after he swallows. JJ does as he’s told, in too much pain to argue. You give him a few pills - presumably painkillers - and help him chase them with water. “I’ll be right back.”

JJ must fall back asleep. When he comes to for the second time, the pain in his head is significantly lessened, as are all the general aches and pains of his body. He dreads the idea of looking in a mirror: he’s probably black and blue. Saying that, it’s not like it’s an unfamiliar state to him. Opening his eyes, he immediately recognises your bedroom. As if on cue, you walk through the door, a mug of what must be steaming hot tea in hand. When your eyes meet his, a relieved smile comes to your face. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he rasps. 

Making your way over, tea deposited on the bedside table, you take the seat next to him. Shit, no wonder he was sleeping so well. Your bed is like sponge cake. 

“How you feeling?”

“Like shit,” JJ grunts. You stifle a laugh. Shifting to sit up, his brows furrow as last night comes back to him, piece by piece. “Did I…Was I hallucinating, or did you save our ass?”

“Mmm, I might have maybe just saved your ass,” you innocently reply. 

Shaking his head, JJ rubs tiredly at his face. 

“I’m not even going to ask what Rafe and his gang of fairies were angry about.”

“Yeah, that’s probably the best idea,” JJ cringes. 

He finally braves holding your gaze. There’s a distance there - a reluctance to be fully present - and JJ knows it’s because of him. 

“That was really ballsy, what you did,” he tells you. 

“It's nothing,” you quietly reply. 

“You’re probably going to lose your Kook card now.”

“Never liked it that much in the first place,” you say with a half-smile. 

JJ silently laughs, shaking his head, mesmerised. He was so wrong about you. About all of it. “I was, uh...kind of a dick to you.”

“Yeah…”

“And…you were right,” he mumbles. 

Brows lifting slightly, a small, amused smile teases your lips. “What was that sorry?”

“You were right,” he repeats, no louder. 

Leaning in, a finger to your ear, you say, “one more time, I didn't quite catch it.”

“Fuck off,” JJ groans, shoving you away with hardly any force.

You snort out a laugh. The moment the humour passes, you look back to him. He feels as though he can hear your thoughts. Your anger and annoyance and insecurity and pain. He hears it all in the emotion swimming through your eyes. So, he nods.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, JJ,” you whisper. 

One of his hairs falls into his face. Before he can react, you’re leaning forward, brushing it out the way. JJ captures your wrist quickly, keeping you near, almost panicked that if you move even a millimetre away, he’ll lose you forever. In that same frenzy, desperate to have you close, he forces out the three words he’s never let himself say to anyone. Ever. 

“I love you.”

Face an exact replica of the one you made that day on the beach, you blink at him. Once, then twice. JJ nods again. 

“I just…I can’t…It doesn’t…”

“I know,” you say, forehead bumping against his own as you lean down. Then, in a whisper, you add, “I know. It’s okay.”

JJ sniffs, suddenly overcome with emotion, and nods against you. As his eyes press shut, you kiss him. It’s slightly salty with tears but no less welcome. He winces as your hand cups his jaw. Kisses you through your mumbled apology against his lips.

And as the two of you kiss, JJ realises that this was all it ever had to be. It was never that complicated, never that layered, because all that mattered was you. Wonderfully, princess-perfect, Kook-turned-Pogue you. 

[sunkissedchld]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one has the silver airpods, pile two is the pink cord phone, and so on and so forth.

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don't be afraid to say if the message resonated or not; it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it's "bad".

this PAC is a collab with @icanseethefuture333, so be sure to check out their post also!

good luck to you, reader 🌷

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Signs:

"i don't forgive you", harboring anger towards someone, heavy fire (aries, leo, sagittarius) in birth chart, red, passion, danger, hera, broken marriages/family, non-committal, metatron, spiritual power, turtles, tigers, turkeys. broken headphones, "you're not listening"

Shufflemancy:

"Montero (Call Me By Your Name)" by Lil Nas X

"Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen

"Blow Us All Away" from Hamilton the Musical

"Intro" by J. Cole

"Angels We Have Heard on High" by Pentatonix

"Sorry, I Love You" by Stray Kids

Cards:

Four of Cups, Knight of Cups (Rx), Six of Swords (Rx), Two of Wands, Five of Wands, Seven of Coins, The Fool (Rx), Turtle (Rx), Tiger, Turkey

Reading:

For those who chose pile one, one lesson you will encounter will be in regards to you seemingly sitting on the sidelines in life. At one point, you may feel disconnected and apathetic about life; you may think, "what's the point of doing what I'm doing if I'm not seeing any results for it." There will be times when people will try to help you enjoy life more instead of being moody and unhappy with what you're doing, but J. Cole says it best when he asks, "do you wanna be happy?". Someone might literally ask you that (or people have done so in the past), and you often say "no" without saying no by not taking action to be happy. 

Those who chose this pile may have a lot of unresolved emotional baggage they refuse to acknowledge, but your lesson will be in recognizing that baggage and unloading it. You may have been resisting a transition period in your life for as long as possible, and in 2024 that won't be allowed anymore. Saying "no" to happiness will not be an option; you will be thrown into tackling your anger, former traumas, apathy about life, etc. head on. The only real thing you can decide at this point is whether or not you're going to plan for it now that you know it's coming or allow life to take you through it however ough that may be. 

You will be pushed to be competitive about what it is you want. There may be a lot of conflict, and you may even feel jealous of others at one point; you may think, "why is it that my growth and transition is so much harder compared to everyone else's?". There may even be a point during the year where you feel as if you're guides or the universe or whoever/whatever you believe in isn't listening to you, but the truth is everyone experiences growing pains, and you have to figure out how to persevere and get over your fears the same way everyone else does. As stated before, refusing to grow and transition is not an option, but your attitude as you experience it is a choice you make; you can make it easier or harder on yourself by having an open mind. 

This year, you will be going from being a turtle to a tiger. You will no longer be allowed to take your time in regards to things in your life that are keeping you from growing into someone who is healthier and happier: mentally, physically, emotionally, and everywhere else. You will be stepping into your own power and your attitude will determine if you step into it gracefully or not. Overall, your lesson will be in learning how to free yourself from your own chains.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Signs:

"be free", the sun, heavy fixed sign energy, ceres, gemini, pluto, neptune, feeling disconnected from venus placement, having trouble speaking, 111, manifestations, "coming in", "i'm walking", "be realistic", mercedes, goose/geese

Shufflemancy:

“Love Like Woe” by The Ready Set

“One Step At a Time” by Jordin Sparks

“Are You That Somebody” by Aaliyah

“This World” by Ateez

“Can You Stand the Rain” by New Edition

“What Comes Next?” from Hamilton the Musical

Cards:

Eight of Coins (Rx), King of Swords (Rx), Five of Wands (Rx), The Hanged Man, King of Coins, Seven of Coins, The Sun, Fixed, Ceres, Sagittarius (Rx), 111, Mercury (Rx), Venus (Rx), Neptune, Pluto

Reading:

If you chose this pile, your lesson for the year deals with your self-worth and self-determination. “One Step At a Time” by Jordin Sparks seems to fit your energy best for this next year. It seems some of this energy may be lingering from last year also, but during 2024 you may feel as if you’re doing a lot of work but receiving no benefits from it. Eventually, this lack of success and recognition could wear on you, and you could wonder if what all you’re doing is even worth it. With your work, it could seem as if you do so much, but it’s just not quite enough to other people - even if you’re trying your absolute hardest. You could end up feeling unappreciated and as if you’re not advancing anywhere. 

It seems someone could be turning people away from you. For some people, this is a literal person who you may get along with, but you don’t really confront them when it comes to what they’re doing. For others of you, this is the universe purposefully blocking things from you because you’re trying to speed up the time you get certain things, and it’s telling you, “this isn’t how that works”. Regardless, there is someone or something in a higher position keeping you from reaching the success you think you deserve. This conflict will frustrate you throughout the year, and it could prove difficult for you to deal with. 

With the Hanged Man and Five of Wands (Rx), you’re being asked to compromise and re-think why you think you deserve recognition or success in a certain way. Is your reasoning valid or in good faith? Is your way really the only way you can gain what it is you’re wanting? Is what you’re wanting the best for you? I’m reminded of the meme (I guess is what it is) where a little girl is holding a small teddy bear or something, and Jesus is asking her to give it to Him, and she’s refusing, but the audience can see that He has an even bigger teddy bear for her; I feel like this will represent how your success for this year will be. You may have one view of how you want it, but that result keeps getting pushed back or thwarted because you’re thinking too small. 

The action of patience will be your most important lesson this year. “Can You Stand the Rain” fits really well for this closing part of the reading. You will be learning how to wither the storm of seemingly being overlooked and having your ideas of abundance not being given to you how and when you want in exchange for even better and more success to meet you at the end. As is always said, “patience is a virtue”.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Signs:

222, swan, itchy left palm, losing items, “i’m so sorry”, prominent sagittarius and/or gemini placements, heavy mutable energy, neptune dominant or many aspects to neptune, ducks, water, lust for nostalgia, being lost in your memories

Shufflemancy:

“In Love with Another Man” by Jazmine Sulllivan

“needy” by Ariana Grande

“Halazia” by Ateez

“Home” by Todrick Hall

“6 Foot 7 Foot” by Lil Wayne (feat. Corey Gunz)

“Put It On Da Floor Again” by Latto (feat. Cardi B)

Cards:

Queen of Cups (Rx), Six of Cups (Rx), Ace of Wands, Ten of Coins, The Sun, Six of Coins, The Emperor, Memories (Rx), Mutable (Rx), Sagittarius (Rx), Planetary Retrograde (Rx)

Reading:

For those choosing pile three, your lesson during the year will relate to you recognizing yourself more. Those who chose this pile may feel disconnected from their emotions or feel very emotionally drained last year and entering the new year. You may be very used to letting people utilize you in their lives however they want while when it comes to you needing people, they often are away or too busy to care about you. You could be prone to co-dependent relationships where you feel like you need to be needed or of help to someone and they to you, but you let them give you the bare minimum while you give your all. 

Earlier, I thought you might be someone who doesn’t like remembering things or has a hard time with their memory, but it’s actually the opposite! You’re someone who loves to get lost in the past and what used to be; the song “Could’ve Been” by H.E.R feels relevant. For some reason the energy for this pile feels very connected to a relationship that you may miss during the year. It seems you will eventually come to the realization that you’re losing yourself to the past and recognize you need to garner up the willpower to keep going for the present. You will gain the energy to begin doing things for yourself instead of for the sake of pleasing others. You will be recognizing how important you are to yourself, and/or you will be building up that importance. 

During this year, you will be building a new foundation where you do things for you. You will be focusing on your own growth and prioritizing self-care. You will learn how to put your happiness above other people's, which might be an issue you have been avoiding for a while. Rather than relying on others for emotional stability and to qualify your self-worth, you will likely end up doing a ton of introspection to discover what makes you happy solo. If you’re someone who is chronically in relationships, you may take a well-needed break in order to discover yourself like you’ve been putting off doing. 

Overall, your lesson for the new year involves being your own rock so to speak. You will be learning how to set boundaries to protect yourself from people who are no good for you because they want to be like vampires in using you. Instead, you will focus on yourself and your ideals, wants, desires, and emotions. Your lesson this year will be learning how to focus on you.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Signs:

having a lot of conjunctions in natal or solar return chart, heavy fixed energy, being born on a new moon, heavy uranus energy, “i don’t forgive you”, heavy fourth house placements and energy, “i don’t forgive you”, (oak) trees, miracles, unicorns

Shufflemancy:

“Focus” by Ariana Grande

“Hello” by J. Cole

“Lonely St.” by Stray Kids

“On It” by Jazmine Sullivan (feat. Ari Lennox)

“Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen

“New Money” by Leikeli47

Cards:

Ace of Cups, Four of Coins, The Devil, Temperance, Knight of Coins, King of Cups, Judgement, The Fool, Conjunction, Fixed, New Moon, Uranus, 4H, Trees, Miracles

Reading:

Those choosing this final pile, your lessons this year may relate to embracing new beginnings and a fresh start. For you, I’m reminded of all these rituals people are engaging in as we all enter the new year: eating black eyed peas, not washing clothes, having someone with money enter the house first, eating grapes under a table at midnight, and everything else. It seems you’re in the energy of “new year, new me”! With that, your lessons seem to relate to putting that quote to the test and seeing if you’re actually ready to embrace what comes with newness. 

You could be losing things and people this year; maybe you fall out with certain people in your friend group, or you lose your job, or you graduate from school, or you’ll find a whole new group of friends. In general, the concept of not getting so attached to things or people to the point where you’re unwilling to separate from them comes to mind. Not that you can’t also develop strong attachments and relationships! But, when it’s time to let a situation or person go do not spend so much time trying to get them to stay. “When it’s time to go; it’s time to go”. 

Do not become obsessive about things and people you come into contact with this year. The phrase, “there’s a time and season for everything” is very important! “Be flexible” is the best advice I could give for those reading this pile. Being flexible does not entail not working hard though; find a balance between being hardworking and putting in effort and also being open to change and loss. There is a major emphasis on balance and being in control when it comes to your emotions but also overall this year. 

Overall, your lessons deal with being open to the change that comes with a new year and declaring that you’re ready for new things. You still need to put in work and go about life and strive to achieve what it is you want - in relationships, friendships, work, your daily life, and more, but you also need to be willing to let people and things go when the universe tells you they’re no longer serving or helping you. Truly, be open to the new beginnings you’re saying you want. 

[fluffytriceratops]

I am DESPERATE for some 2k3 Donatello dating headcanons, literally give me anything PLEASE I AM OBSESSED

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 [𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑]

notes: i gotchu bestie. <3 lemme know if you guys want these for the other 2k3 turts as well! :D also sorry for taking literal ages to get this request done for you! thank you sm for requesting i hope you have a wonderful day/night! <3

warnings: brief nsfw mentions, mature language, 

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @rheawritesforfun @s-s-ironnie @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mysticboombox @drowninghell @lec743 @raphielover  @raphslovemuffin80 @squirrelfurs @bibiz82 @pheradream-15 @kikithedreamerwriter @m1dnyt3-w0lf @scholastic-dragon @moonsua1 [if i've forgotten anyone i'm so sorry please comment or dm me and let me know and i'll add you right away so i don't forget in the future!]

(if you would like to be tagged in my future tmnt x reader related work, feel free to let me know and i'll happily add you!)

i love you all sm! i'm sending all the virtual hugs and well wishes to you!! <33

---

- as usual, 2003 donnie has an obsession with coffee. so if you get this mans some coffee expect an INSTANT marriage proposal. [honestly what ver of donnie doesn't have a coffee addiction?] 

- likes to do your hair. it's calming to him and helps him think. hes watched a lot of youtube videos and stuff for it, so he knows what he's doing too. he likes to try new styles n stuff on you. everyone knows when he's particularily stressed or can't seem to figure something out because you seem to have a new hairsyle everyday until he's fixed whatever it is that's bugging him, 

- will also handmake beads and stuff to put in your hair. <3 

- makes jewelry for you, esp out of silverware and other things. it always turns out so beautifully. 

- late night drives. donnie has insomnia and his brain works a lot during the night/evening. so expect to hang out a lot with him during this time. driving at night at new york is super pretty and peaceful too. esp when it's just the two of you. [so long as you don't mind the hectic city hehe-]

- cuddling with him while he works. includes sleeping on him/in his lab when he works really late into the night. he'll later carry you to bed. 

- painting on his shell/body for funzies. and if he does the same to you don't expect it to look too great because 2k3 donnie can't draw for shit. 

- donnie will gift you homemade cards with stick figures on the cover cuz again he cant draw but he knows you'll adore it no matter what just because he made it. plus you think its funny as hell and he adores your laugh. 

- hes actually really good at photography. and he has loads of pictures of you. you two go out and take pictures together sometimes. it's always a lot of fun. and they always turn out great. 

- late night talking sessions are a normal for you. 

- donatello tries his best to get you to sleep at a decent time, but sometimes you'll refuse if he isn't coming to bed with you just to get him to go to sleep earlier. he'll probably lay with you for a while, unable to actually sleep. maybe he'll read or listen to music to help pass the time. sometimes he will also sneak back out of bed once you've fallen asleep, and when you catch him you give him a good talking to. 

- he really needs to take better care of himself. he's always putting those he cares for above himself. so you're always there to make sure he's okay and that he's doing what he needs to do to be happy and healthy. 

- you guys hardly ever fight. donnie isn't one to argue with you. he's a very gentle and kind soul. he rarely raises his voice. (but when he does you find it hot as FUCK- lets be honest--) 

- fix it felix. always fixes things for you, even if you dont ask it of him. if he's at your place and notices something needs to be fixed he'll just do it for you. even if you insist he doesn't have to, he will anyway because he loves you. it brings him joy. and honestly, you should just let him because it probably stresses him out a little thinking about how your door isn't closing properly or your car sounds funny or your light keeps flickering- 

- you like to prank him on occassion, this includes the whole "i filled my tank with the special gas-" or "i let them put premium air in my tires and they gave me a really good deal". it freaks and stresses him out, at least in the moment hehe. its very funny but keep in mind he'll get you back. 

- him reading to you sfghfdgkjhdfg (id die please-) esp if you have trouble sleeping or something. 

- coffee dates are a must. even if you dont drink coffee. 

- donnie napping curled up on your chest/on top of you. you tracing the grooves of his shell. you've learned he finds this very comforting and it helps him fall asleep. 

- hes a definite switch- lmao.

- very gentle and understanding. he's like your personal diary or therapist and you're the same for him. 

[tmntxthings]

YOU 🫵 *points directly at that mean y/n, you, and that anon that asked for ansgt against rottmnt Raph* how very dare you !!!!!!

(If you have time and if your asks are open (didn’t see any warnings that it was close)) can you PLEASE do something fluffy and that reader is ABSOLUTELY head of hells for raphie? I’m talking flowers, I’m talking spending hours on a claw machine to get a plushie he wants it, I’m talking admiring and tracing his features slowly with the most stupid and hopeless in love expression the turtles have ever seen, im talking speaking up for him against anyone that mistreats him, doing his fav dishes, preparing balanced meals, paintings, little love notes, lipstick marks, poems under moonlight, I want devotion!!!! I want that sweet Puppy love !!!!! EVERYTHING. 100% a simp and isn’t afraid to show it, until Raph returns their actions, then they get bashful/blushing up a storm lol

thank you and have a good day

∑一Wherever You Go・゜・。

author’s notes: ain’t no way I’m doing that whole list we’ll be here forever, BUT don’t worry I’ll make sure he feels the love nonetheless

warnings: fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, bordering on a crack fic that’s purely just to show a character love ^ twas asked of me, unedited

Song: Never Getting Rid of Me by Christopher Fitzgerald

—————————————————————————

It was no secret that you adored Raph. And it didn’t bother you one bit that everyone, big red turtle included, knew that you had heart eyes for him.

Your love language for him couldn’t be restricted to just one kind. You exhibited all kinds of love for him. You hoped it wasn’t overwhelming. It was hard to stop yourself once you had an idea though.

One time you saw a beautiful bouquet of red roses. Instantly you had them in your hand, and a receipt in the other. They reminded you of his bandana. So bright, eye-catching! And down to the lair you went, shooting off an incoming text to Raph to give him a last-minute notice.

Earlier occasions where you hadn’t sent a text left you waiting around at a manhole cover forever. If Raph was asleep it would be hard to rouse him with just a notification. He’d need a full on blare horn. Or worst case scenario the boys weren’t even at the lair! Thankfully, most of the time they were home. Raph buzzed back with a text saying he’d be right up to open the cover for you. Sewer covers were heavy!

When the round slab of stone was lifted you offered up the bouquet to the darkness below instantly. It was quiet for a moment, before Raph emerged, cheeks tinted a darker green. “For me?” He questioned, his tone held a quality as if it was unbelievable for him to receive flowers.

But you didn’t chide him for it. In fact you only smiled warmly and nodded your confirmation. “I thought of you the moment I saw them. What do you think? Aren’t they pretty?”

His hands finally went out, accepting your gift. Holding them gingerly and away from his plastron. He seemed to not want any of the petals to snag on his sharp edges. “Raph loves ‘em” he murmured, his eyes entranced by the blossoms now that he could get a closer look.

This moment right here was picture worthy! You wished you had Donnie’s ability to just record everything, that way you could screenshot this later. Maybe put it as your screensaver. Instead you just watched, hands clasped as you waited for Raph to come out of his stupor. Which he did, and started asking you about your favorite flowers and invited you down to the lair.

~

You don’t know how they got the arcade machines down there. But it sure as hell beat going to Chuck-E-Cheese! Nothing against the place but it costs so much and all the games down at the lair are rigged to play for free! Which was awesome because you had finally decided, you weren’t leaving the claw machine until you won Raph’s dream plushie.

The poor turtle had played this game constantly ever since they mysteriously got the machine. He was able to get two plushies but they weren’t the ones he really wanted. The ultimate prize was a brown teddy bear with a little red bow tie. He was absolutely adorable. And Raph’s obsession with winning his prize was even more endearing. So when Raph texted you a picture of his defeated expression against the glass of the claw machine, you had to take matters into your own hands.

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 - [ <image> 🥺 it’s hopeless ]

Y/n - [ omw asap, don’t worry raphie i’ll get you teddy! ❤️💪 ]

Well, easier said than done is a term of phrase for a reason. You banged your head against the glass or you tried to at least. But Raph’s calloused palm was in front of the glass before your forehead could make contact. Still you drew back to bang it against his rough skin anyway. He knew your frustrations, the claw machine was merciless. You had been at the lair for well over two hours. The first thirty minutes in had been fine. You had chatted with Raph easily, confident that eventually you would get the hang of the mechanism.

But then an hour went by. And then another. Your concentration on the game had dried up the easy conversation between you and big red. The atmosphere was intense as if the two of you were in battle together. Currently you were both defeated. His other hand patted your back, knowing exactly how you felt. “It’s okay, maybe Teddy isn’t meant to join my pile of plushies.”

You took in a deep breath. Stopping your frustrated head thumps and turned to look Raph in the eyes. “You’re right, Teddy is meant to sleep right next to you! And I’m gonna make that happen!” You harrumphed as you turned back to the evil machine. It was your enemy. It was working against you. All you wanted to do was this one thing and make Raph happy! This time for sure, you thought to yourself as you hovered the claw over to where Teddy lay amongst the other plushies.

“Like a boss!!!” You yelled as you smacked the button that lowered the claw. Both of you watched anxiously as it dropped, its metal fingers enclosing around Teddy’s brown fur, and it started to rise. But you had been here before and didn’t dare to celebrate pre-maturely before the damn stuffed animal was in Raph’s arms. The grip the machine had on the animal was shaky at best. The claw swayed from side to side as it carried the plushie over to the drop box. You were sweating bullets and could smell Raph’s anxiety stink.

But before the claw reached its final destination, the plushie tumbled out of its hold. You turned to Raph who let out a breath he had been holding. You expected to see disappointment in his eyes but it was quite the opposite. He looked happy as his snaggle-tooth dug into his lower lip. “Nice try,” his eyes crinkled shut with his smile. “Wanna go play DDR?” You sighed, letting the claw machine have the win for now. Happy to see Raph’s eyes light up with a burning passion as he raced over to his favorite spot, the left side, for DDR. “Ready to face the master??” He goaded but it was pure excitement to play one of his favorites of all time. “So ready!” You laughed, hopping up on the dance pad to get absolutely demolished because you didn’t have any rhythm. But you played regardless because when Raph was having fun so were you.

And yes, later that night you did bribe Donnie with twenty bucks to replace that damned claw with one that would actually work. So next time you were able to win Teddy and present Raph with the ultimate present. It costed you another twenty to keep Donnie’s mouth shut about ever having any involvement so you could have all the credit and look like a hero in Raph’s starry eyes. He sent you pictures of him and the stuffed animal almost every night with his goodnight message.

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 - [ <image> Teddy says goodnight! ]

Y/n - [ gnight teddy, and goodnight raph-a-la 🤗 sweet dreams ]

~

“What did you say?!” Your voice raised as you stepped into the lair’s common room. Shelldon had just so kindly lifted the manhole cover, since no one else from the group chat was responding! You thought it weird since usually someone was on their phone *cough* Donnie *cough* but sometimes they were busy! Which you understood. Until you had seen Shelldon’s worried pixelated expression as he urged you on down the sewer system to the abandoned subway station.

That was when you heard it. Heated arguing. It was hard to listen to especially when it was Leo and Raph. You knew how much all of them loved one another, a love that even harsh words couldn’t damage. But sometimes, things were said in the heat of the moment that weren’t meant to argue a point. They were said to hurt the other person. That’s where you drew the line. That’s where you felt the need to step in, even if you weren’t family.

“Leo, if you’d just try, even a little, at accepting the role as a leader. It’s not that bad-“

“If it’s not that bad then why don’t you just take it back huh?”

“You know why. Dad said you-“

“Dad said this! Dad says that! What are you his little pet? Since when do we do whatever Dad says?!”

“Leo, c’mon,”

“Raph if you don’t wanna be the leader anymore. Then fine. But don’t push it on to me.”

“I never said that, Dad thinks-“

“For someone who’s catchphrase is ‘boss’ you really like being someone’s little bit—“

And that’s when you stepped into the room. Eyes hardened as you marched in between the two turtles. “What did you just say?!” You dared Leo to repeat. But as he studied your stance and the way you got in front of Raph, as if protecting him from Leo, the blue turtle started to duck his head into his shell. Feeling remorseful for getting so heated. He made a ‘tsk’ noise before heading off to his room. Mumbling sorries as he passed by.

You turned to Raph to check the damage. It seemed like just the two of you now. You wondered if they had started fighting because Mikey and Donnie weren’t around. Raph was rubbing the side of his head, looking drained and it tugged on your heart strings to see him that way. You knew brothers argued, sure they even fought sometimes. But it was hard to see them go at it like this.

“I know you’re not okay, so I won’t ask. But just know Leo didn’t mean any of that. I know he didn’t.”

Raph gives you a weak smile in return. Like he doesn’t believe you. But doesn’t have the heart to say it aloud. So you go to him, grabbing his hands and pulling him towards the couch. He goes without resistance. Once seated, you turn to him and he turns to you. Your hands go up and you cup his face now that he is within your reach.

“He’s scared. Just like you are. I know it’s hard to tell right now when he’s saying anything but that. But you know Leo, he’ll spew just about any nonsense to not say how he truly feels.”

The words turn over in Raph’s head as he thinks. He sighs, softening in your hold as he nods. He looks a little better now. But you don’t let him go. You trace the contours of his face. Lovingly. Letting the tension in the room ebb out until the early argument has left both of your minds completely.

“It’ll be okay. I know it will.”

You murmur. Your hands finally letting go as Raph’s breathing deepens. He fell asleep to your touch. Leaned back into the couch as his snores start up. You scoot over until your head can rest on his arm, pulling up your phone to text Leo to get his ass over here. A portal silently opens up on the other side of you and as Leo sits next to you, you pull him closer with your arm.

“Dummy.”

You chide the blue turtle as tears fall down his green cheeks. He huffs at the insult but knows you mean well. When you leave the lair that night the two brothers are tangled together in a pile that will surely be four later on, alls forgiven.

~

Raph eats just about anything. His stomach knows no limits. So you could char the meat on accident and he’d still wolf it down like it was the best meal he ever had. While that was kind of him, you wanted to really impress his palate. So on the topic of food one late night text session, you asked of his favorites. To which a long list was sent over. So you had to ask him again.

Y/n - [ Okay, that’s really cool that you have so many. But which one is your favorite among the favorites? 👀 ]

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 - [ that’s a hard one… uhmmmmm ]

With a lot of encouragement he managed to get the favorite list down to five choices. To which you just decided to hell with it, you’ll have a feast! It took a lot of preparation. And more time than you thought you’d ever spend in your kitchen. But five meals were cooked and prepared perfectly on your round table. Now, you wished you’d told Raph of your plan sooner and hoped to the moon above that he didn’t have plans tonight.

Y/n - [ >image< hungry? C: ]

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 [ 😱 always! headin ur way ]

Raphie 😍❤️😚🤗🥰 [ hereeeeeeee open ur windowwwww ]

And yes somehow he fit. He was good at wiggling around. He cleared each and every plate once you had tapped out after trying to keep up with him. Food comas hit the both of you soon after as he got up and claimed he would do the dishes. He was so cute as he wobbled up sleepily from the kitchen chair. Arms full of plates and platters as well as cups for not only water but various sodas/juices had been served that you knew to be Raph’s favorites as well. When he had asked what the occasion was you didn’t have any in mind.

“I just wanted to!”

You chirped. Happy to feed him. Happy to have made his day. Now he was as careful as one giant turtle could be with your plates, but to his dismay the bottom one from the pile ended up breaking due to the clatter when he placed them in the sink. He wouldn’t know it until he was practically done with cleaning, feeling so good about himself for not breaking any of the— oh there it was. The last one. In pieces.

“Raph is so so sorry! You made a nice meal only for Raph to break your plate!”

No matter how much he wished he could fuse the remains back together, he’d need glue. And you apparently didn’t have any in your apartment. He sighed to which you hushed all his worries away.

“Raphie! It’s just one plate, I’ve got more! Plenty more as you can see!”

You, who had been drying the dishes he washed. Gestured with the damp towel towards the pile of neatly stacked plates that were all dry. The force of which you whipped the towel was more than you had intended and you both watched as that perfect stack fell over, onto the counter and off on to the floor.

“Well. I may need to go buy some more.”

You admitted sheepishly. Raph didn’t know whether to be upset for you or laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

“Yeah, let’s go get some now!”

After picking up and sweeping to make sure all the shattered pieces were in the trash. That’s exactly what the two of you did. It was little things that Raph did, like worry needlessly over you accidentally cutting yourself with one of the broken plate pieces. Or him getting shy at every compliment and gift you had to offer him. His humble nature. How he readily takes on responsibilities. His love for his family. His diligence when it comes to crime fighting and working out. His carefree side. You loved it all. You told him all the things that enamored you to him. And the two of you were happiest, when you could just spend time together like this. Doing little things.

—————————————————————————

[wonderingpanda]

Hallooo!

May I request reader catching the bayboys staring at them? Lovesick, maybe?

I just love the Eugene staring at Rapunzle scene.

Lovesick Stares

Bayverse!Turtles x Reader

Hi! Sorry for not posting in so long, I’ve been really busy the past month. I also want to apologise, there was another Bayverse request in my inbox but I must of accidentally deleted it since I can’t find it anymore. If the person who sent me it wants to re-request it feel free to do so. Now, I decided to not really do headcanons for this one but I wouldn’t call them oneshots either. They’re more like mini-scenarios. Anyway, with that all out the way please enjoy.

Leonardo

I was just in the lair sharpening my katanas when I noticed Y/N sit down next to me. “Mikey becoming too much for you?” “Nah, I’m just tired and don’t feel like skateboarding right now.” They pulled out their phone and began doing something on it but I couldn’t see what. I decided to just focus on my blades since I was losing concentration. After a moment or two I heard the sweet sound of Y/N laughing and turned to see them smiling at some video. I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger for a moment, they were so pretty and calm I couldn’t look away. Y/N must of realised that I had stopped sharpening my swords since they looked over to me curiously. I immediately fixed my eyes on something away from them but I knew it was too late and I’d already been caught. “You do realise you’re staring at mouldy pizza right?” Yup, caught red handed. “Well I mean mouldy pizza can be interesting. Anything can hold a story. You never know this pizza could’ve been through amazing things, lived an incredible life.” “Ah yes an incredible life of slowly dying on a sewer floor.” We laughed together for a moment before Y/N decided to lie their head on my arm and smiled with their eyes glued to their phone. “You know if want to stare at me you can. I do it to you all the time.” “Heh, thanks… wait what?”

Raphael

I swear sometimes my brothers piss me off too much! It was late in the evening and I was beating up a punching bag to let out my rage. I was so focused on hitting the thing that I didn’t realise Y/N had walked in. They leaned against the wall and just looked at me. I stopped what I was doing and turned to face them. “What is it?” “I was just waiting for you to finish up.” “Why? You want to use it?” “I’d appreciate it.” I smirked and stepped aside as Y/N walked up to the punching bag, this was going to be interesting. I was surprised when they began to land pretty tough punches on it. “Wow, who got you so riled up?” They leaned back and rolled their shoulders. “Just an annoying co-worker, don’t worry about it.” They then threw their jacket onto the floor and continued to beat up the punching bag. As they went at it I kept wanting to look at them, their face and arms, eyes, lips… I shook my head and blinked a bit when I saw Y/N staring right back at me. “Is there something you want to tell me or…?” “Uh I think I hear Donnie calling me, I gotta go.” With that, I ran off. All I could do was hope they didn’t read too much into it.

Donatello

I thought it would just be another long night in the lab. I had been spending the night working on a few adjustments to my computers. Some of them were glitching and one had stopped working completely so I was trying to fix them up asap. I figured I’d be alone the whole night since everyone seemed to have already gone to bed but I was proven wrong when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Agh! Oh Y/N, it’s just you. Wait, Y/N! What are you doing here this late?” “Well I was spending the night studying alone but I got bored, and knowing you I knew you’d still be up and awake in your lab.” “I suppose that makes sense.” I slid my chair to the side slightly and gestured for them to grab the free one I had sitting in the corner. They pulled the chair up next to me and sat down. “Oh, and apologies for not knocking. You didn’t answer before and when I peeked through you seemed so involved in your work that I didn’t want to disturb you too much.” “Not a problem. So, were you wanting to study or join me in my computer repairs.” “I figured I could just study while you do your thing, I was just desperate for some company.” “Understandable. I’ll just get back to this and feel free to ask me if you need any help with your studies.” “Of course. Thank you Donnie.” I grabbed a few of my tools and got back to work as Y/N began researching stuff on their laptop, looking through books and writing notes down. I looked over to them and noticed the way their face scrunched up at certain things, how they seemed so hyper focused on whatever they were typing. They were simply a sight to behold. My thoughts were cut short when Y/N sent me a curious smile. “What?” I figured I must have been staring and gave an awkward laugh, looking away to the computer I was currently fidgeting with. “Nothing.” Soon enough I heard the sound of books closing and felt a heavy weight slump onto my shoulder. “I know I should be heading home right now but I think it’ll be ok if I’m a little late to class tomorrow.” “Goodnight, sleeping beauty.” “Night, turtle boy.”

Michelangelo

I was bored, and I mean really bored. Nothing was happening! Leo and Raph were training together and Donnie was locked up in his lab again. April was busy with Casey, Master Splinter was meditating. I was so close to giving up on everything when a voice filled the air. “Oh guys! Guess what I brought?” I snapped my head around only to find my gorgeous Y/N standing happily with a stack of pizza boxes in their hands. I ran over to them but before I could grab a box they pulled the pizza away from me. “Uh excuse me! You’ll be waiting for your brothers before laying a hand on this pizza.” “Ugh! But everyone else is already busy. I’ll just take a few boxes and be on my way, pretty please?” They gave me a deadpanned look. “Mmm no.” “Well then…” I stepped back and readied myself. “I’ll just have to take it by force.” I lunged at Y/N picking them up and pulling the pizza out of their grasp. “Mikey, put me down!” “Mmm no” “Michelangelo Hamato I swear to god!” They proceeded to grab my face and get close enough to the point their nose touched my snout. “If you don’t put me down safely and hand over that pizza this instant I will beat you up with your own weapons, understood?” I wanted to make some sort of witty comeback but as I looked into their eyes I found myself at a loss for words. I knew they couldn’t really beat me and they knew it too but the determined look on their face was so adorable I wanted to just let them. After a little while I felt something hard flick my forehead. “Ow! What!?” “You zoned out dummy.” “Hey I’m not a dummy! You’re the dummy.” “You sure?” “Uh huh.” “Turn around.” I twisted my head to the side and noticed that all the pizza was gone! I looked back to Y/N only to be met with a fist to the face. But to see their cute face up close it was totally worth it.

I hope this was okay. Again, sorry for not posting in a while. Please have an amazing day/night wherever you are!✨

[fottitimioamore]

Hiii!! I saw your request rules and I was hoping to get Leo and Donnie from both 2012 and rise if possible? Separately please! With a gender neutral reader that is cuddling with them while playing some game on the switch and the reader just absentmindedly starts scratching their shell and the turtle just about melts? Like reader just starts scratching their chin, their arms, and the turtle just becomes a churring mess enjoying the attention? If you don't want to do this request it's alright!! Hopefully Tumblr doesn't eat it 😭

THIS

Tysm for requesting this, I was hoping someone would so I would have an excuse to write it 🙏 I love these mfs so much this stuff is so soft it makes me want to cry. This took so long I'm so sorry, it's been busy and I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Also forgive me I do not have a switch and have no idea what people do on 'em 💀

Happy holidays to whoever celebrates <33

..............................................................................................

..............................................................................................

♡ Pairing: 2012 and Rise!Donnie and Leo x reader (seperately)

♡ Warnings: None

♡ Relationship: Romantic

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Rise!Leonardo

You loved the turtles, you really did. All of them. But sometimes their seemingly endless supplies of energy were exhausting. Sometimes you just needed a little time away with just your boyfriend. Such times could be few and far between, but that just made you cherish them even more.

Currently, everyone else was busy doing their own things. You had offered them a place in the living room with you, to watch some cheesy horror movie Leo had found. But Mikey had decided that it was time for a new piece on his bedroom walls, Raph said that his training buddy would be getting lonely, and Donnie had claimed that he was on the brink of something phenomenal, as usual.

You were alright with that. It just meant that you would have more time with just Leo. Laying back against an arm of the couch with him ontop of you, pulled as close as he physically could be.

Unfortunately, said cheesy horror movie was so captivating that you had abandoned it in favor of your switch within the first 15 minutes. You really didn't know how they managed to squeeze 3 hours out of the barely functioning plot.

Leo, on the other hand, was captivated. His eyes had barely left the screen. Every once in a while he would throw a hand up with a scoff or bury his face in your chest grumbling about how stupid the characters were. You would reach a hand up, brushing it down his neck as he relaxed against you again.

You couldn't help your wandering hands though, and so while you balanced your switch in one, without thinking, your other slid down until it met the top of his shell. You rubbed the edge of it, right above where it connected with skin, before it fell further down. Your nails scraped gently over the hard surface, absentmindedly tracing the patterns you knew near by heart.

You were so deep in your thoughts, completely zoned in on the screen in your one hand that you nearly jumped out of your skin when a rumble erupted from the slider atop you. A grin immediately spread across your face, huffing out air through your nose in a laugh. Leo was still laying with his head tucked under your chin, facing the projector, but as you slid your hand back up to his shoulders, you felt absolutely none of the tension they usually held.

His churring continued, the sound vibrating through you and making you laugh again. You propped your switch up against the couch, bringing your now free hand to cup his jaw. As clique as it sounded, running your nails under his chin was a surefire way to make him melt in your hands. He tipped his face up to gaze at you with eyes half-lidded and pupils blown. A light blush dusted his cheeks, just enough to see from how close you were.

You loved moments like these. Moments where Leo could relax, cut the snarky persona and just be... soft.

The movie playing was simply background noise now, hands soothing over his jaw and shell respectively as you watched his eyes flutter. Strong arms around your waist pulled you impossibly closer, and he pushed his head more into your palm.

..............................................................................................

Rise!Donatello

Donnie was constantly working. He had so many ideas for new inventions that sometimes you just had to smile and nod when he started on about his newest project. It wasn't that you weren't interested, but most of it just went right over your head, as adorable as his little ramblings could be. He spent so much time in his lab that before, you had felt almost neglected. Never truly, of course he made time for you, but it was never really enough.

Therefore, you created a compromise. With Donnie working over his desk in his chair, and you on his lap, straddling his thighs with your arms around his neck. You were completely content like that, normally passing the time with your phone or switch until your arms got tired.

This time was no different. Soft music hummed in your ears, just loud enough to hear clearly. Donnie had his arms on each side of your waist, tinkering with some device that had been the center of his attention for the past few days.

You'd grown tired of Animal Crossing and other little games you'd been switching between for the past hour, but you were happy just to spend time with your boyfriend. Head resting on his shoulder, you let the device fall into your lap to have your hands free. They squeezed his neck gently, winning you a nuzzle from Donnie. Your hands slid down, fingertips brushing the surface of his soft shell. A smile graced your lips when you felt the last tension of the day melt under you.

Your heart fluttered everytime you touched his bare shell. It taken months for Donnie to build up enough trust in you to do so, and you cherished the privilege like none other. The delicate idea of it just made you love him even more.

You would never admit it to Donnie, but his shell made him seem so fragile in moments like these. You knew he hated being seen as weak for it, and you knew far better than that; but you always felt like dragging your nails a little too hard along it would hurt him. He never seemed to mind, though. When you did, just lightly enough for him to feel it, you felt your heart clench in adoration as the tiniest vibrations kickstarted under his plastron.

Donnie didn't chur like his brothers, not often. They were louder, making their contentment obvious through the trilling. Donnie was quieter, the sound softer and more gently comforting in your opinion. While you loved when he'd openly chur like that, you liked to keep it as a rare occasion. You were just as happy with this, just a low rythmic hum that reverberated in your skull, pressed against his collar.

You heard the clink of tools being set on the table, before a hand ran up your back to between your shoulder blades. The other wrapped around your waist, loosely holding you against him. A small gesture, one that wouldn't seem very important, was for Donnie. For him to put down his work, even for a few minutes, just to really be with you in a moment, made you feel truly special. He rested his head against yours, and you brought one hand up to cup the side of it. Your thumb rubbed small circles just under his mask, feeling him lean into the touch, smiling into your palm.

No words had to be spoken in moments like these. Here, you could just melt in each others presence, while any negative energy from the day melted away right with you.

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2012!Leonardo

Game night with the turtles was always fun. It normally started out with everyone, piled on the couch in front of the TV, volume on high over the sounds of laughter. Bonus to living in the sewers, no noise complaints from any neighbors.

Eventually, people began to drop out and either slunk to bed or, in Donnie's case, to his lab. By the end of it, you and Leo were the last ones up. The noise dwindled into comfortable silence, and you two would shift closer together, a luxury you didnt bother with around his brothers. Sure, there was a hand in his or his arm around your waist here and there, but nothing past that.

Once everyone else had gone, Leo had moved in front of you on the couch. Your legs hugged his sides, hands on his plastron from behind. You had given up a few minutes ago, too tired to really focus on the game. Leo was still invested though. He got particularly competitive in games, especially with his brothers. He was intent on beating Raph's high score.

You were practically falling asleep by now. Your eyes fell shut and you had to consciously keep your head from falling to his shoulder. To keep yourself awake, you slid your hands up from his chest to the top of his neck, working your way down with careful nails. Leo was always tense, you felt it when you pressed on certain muscles. He carried most of it in his shoulders, maintaining a powerful posture all day.

Moments after you started the gentle scratching, you heard the painfully familiar sound of a game over from the screen. You hadn't realized that you'd closed your eyes, but sure enough, Leo's chance of a new record was no more.

His head hit your shoulder and your lips pulled up into a smile as you moved your hands around to his jaw, feeling the soft trills start in his throat. His eyes were closed, expression serene. You planted a quick kiss on his chin, causing him to tilt his head back for more. You giggled, pulling him further into you and resting your head against his.

"Sorry, I ruined your high score." Your voice was hardly above a whisper, as if talking any louder would disrupt the peaceful moment like a stone into still water. Leo only churred louder, an arm coming up to rest over your thigh. Your far arm reached down to rub his shoulder, feeling it relax.

Moments like these weren't very common with Leo. Moments where he could feel so at ease. Where he didn't have to think about leading the team, or his brothers' safety. Here, we could just unwind in your grasp, away from everything that kept him so on edge. They sat in the very back of his mind. Instead, you were his fronting thought, from the way your nails ran over his skin to the rise and fall of your chest under him.

Here, Leo did feel at ease, and his heart skipped a beat when you laughed at his lack of response. You fell silent now, simply listening to his content churs in your own hazy bubble of happiness.

..............................................................................................

2012!Donatello

You were not a morning person. Not in the slightest. In your opinion, anyone who got up before 7 am unless absolutely necessary was inhuman. And still that seemed early. Donnie, however, was a special case. He also wasn't a morning person, and when he slept you could only drag him out of bed half past noon. But he worked so late into the night that he didn't fall asleep (if he even did), until the first rays of sunlight streamed in your bedroom windows.

Granted, the sewers didn't have windows, so he couldn't tell by that how late it was, but he also had tech everywhere in his lab and more than a few ways to instantly tell the time. You understood, you had your fair share of restless nights. But Donnie was like this all the time. Unless someone physically put his equipment to the side and pulled him off to bed, he would stay up for as long as his body let him.

Luckily, you came along. As someone with an actually decent sleep schedule, which wasn't common in mutant turtles apparently, you made sure Donnie got an acceptable amount of sleep when you could. Unfortunately, you couldn't always haul him away forever. Sometimes he would lay down, just to get up after you fell asleep and continue working. So when you would stay overnight with him, you typically would be woken up from a particularly loud mess-up on one of his projects.

Tonight was one of those nights. It was a wrench, one that was knocked to the floor when he reached aside to grab another tool. You rolled over in the makeshift nest you had setup in the lab, blinking awake to Donnie staring wide-eyed at you. He relaxed, sighing in defeat when he realized you were fully conscious now.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he said softly, his voice making you smile. You lifted a hand, and after placing the wrench back on his desk, he padded over to you.

"Hmm, going back to work after I fall asleep doesn't fix anything," you hummed as he kneeled down in front of you. You shifted upright, back against the wall, and he slid down to lay his head in your lap. Before you could even touch him, you felt a trill reverberate through you, and you laughed. Just laying down, being off his feet and in your lap was enough to make him happy.

You settled one hand around his head, the other running down his arm, stopping at the leather straps of his elbow pad. Normally the gear came off to sleep, but you figured you'd let it slide for the moment. You continued your little ministrations, beaming when his grip around your waist tightened and he snuggled closer to your warmth. His churs provided comforting background noise as you tried to keep yourself from unconsciousness.

You knew he gave in so easily because he probably thought he could slip away after a while. You wouldn't let that happen so easily this time, however. There was no way he was getting up until you did. Until then, all you wanted was to sit here with Donnie until you were inevitability woken up to his brothers' teasing in the morning.

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Feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome <3

A/N: I completely forgot the switch in 2012!Donnie's I hope it's just as okay without ^^

[desceros]

me: [looks at calendar, gets a wicked idea, looks into the camera] happy springtime, turtle fam! who's ready to celebrate the season?

...mating season, that is. hehe. [dodges the tomatoes]

so! i had the idea that it would be super fun to have a community-wide event where we all have a prompt and then everyone fills it in their own way.

...i then decided all the prompts i came up with were too good not to use, but also none of them were Good Enough to use exclusively, so i changed my mind and the prompt is now just MATING SEASON. with a few suggestions at the bottom of this post if you're looking for some.

since spring is coming upon us, i hereby invite everyone to join in the vernal festivities... which in turtle parlance, of course, means only one thing: write, draw, whatever your version of "mating season", then join me on march 1 to post it with the tag #TMNTSpringShellebration. we then shall browse the fine selection of our mutual artistic efforts, and basically just have a good time as a community.

here are the prompts i came up with as starters-slash-things-to-include if you're looking for a place to get started. feel free to use these at will, or use them to come up with something of your own:

“Please don’t make me explain this. It’s humiliating as is.”

Oops, Looks Like Mating Season Came A Week Early This Year

“…In all of my mating seasons, this has never happened before.”

“I told you not to come by! It’s mating season!”

Probably should have expected it to be different now that he’s not going through it alone.

Because of Shenanigans, you have to wait. Wait… Wait… ok now.

They’re not the right person for mating season… but they’re the one who’s here, so…

“Show me where it hurts."

so yeah! see you all on march 1 for the, uh, spring shellebration. party popper emoji

questions i imagine will be popping up and i hope will clear up here before my askbox swells beyond capacity under the cut to keep this post from being Way Too Long. also it's really not that serious it's just an excuse to write slash draw for everyone Please Don't Take This Thing Too Seriously It's Not That Serious:

"can i participate?" yes! it's literally just an invitation to do something. nothing fancier than that. no need to be following me or in my friend group or whatever.

"can i write (insert fic idea here)?" yep! so long as it's related to the idea of mating seasons, it flies. reader insert? hell yea. oc? hell yeah. solo turtle and his favorite pillow? go for it.

"can i draw (insert art idea here)?" yep! uh. i know tumblr has the cops watching for sin bin material, but you art people know how to deal with that. and if you don't, uh, ask the other art people. im just a feral cat in a trench coat

"how do i participate?" write/draw/collect songs for/whatever. then, on march 1, post it and tag it #TMNTSpringShellebration. also, for funsies, keep it hush hush what you're working on so we can all be super shocked when the day comes! except, y'know, that you're planning on joining in. totally do that.

"when do i post it?" march 1. whenever on that day. waves hands around in a vague gesture at time zones not mattering. seriously don't take this so seriously it's just me wanting to create cool shit with my friends with a little more structure to it

"does it have to be horny?" i mean. it's an event about mating season. so by definition it's going to be at least a little horny. but however you interpret it is cool. even if it's just. idk. leo sitting sweatily in a chair looking longingly at a glass of water bc he's thirstier than usual. be smart about things, people. i'm not your dad.

"which tmnt verse is this for?" whichever one you want it to be for!! rise! bayverse! 2007! your fan iteration! your friend's fan iteration! your mortal enemy's fan iteration! yes!

"will you be reblogging everything?" absolutely not, but this isn't an event About Me. i am incidental to the thing. it's about Us. coming together as a community. for horny turtles. puts my hands on your shoulders. do it for you. for your friends. for the community.

[yujateaandpi]

Turtle Tot Auction and Pattern Tester Applications are Now Live!

after months of work, my sons are finished

As much as I’m fond of these guys, I am opening an auction for each of them. The auctions BEGIN TODAY and END AUGUST 2. Please use the forms below to fill out your bids.

Additional Information:

— Leo, Donnie, and Mikey are all 12 inches tall and 5 inches wide. Raph is chonkier: 14 inches tall and 7 inches wide.

size comparison:

— Raph’s helmet and Leo’s armband are removable. Clothes were made separately but are not easy to remove.

— Donnie and Mikey have functional hoods and Mikey has a hoodie pocket.

— They are filled with polyester/ cotton blend filling and are VERY huggable :3

— Donnie’s glasses are made of black pipe cleaners and medical tape.

— Bids are starting at 60 for Mikey, Donnie, and Leo, and 70 for Raph.

— Shipping will be charged separately after the auction is over. I will be shipping from Los Angeles, CA.

Auction Links:

Leo:

Donnie:

Mikey:

Raph:

*Pattern Tester Application*

If you would like to apply to be a pattern tester, please fill out the form below! I am accepting four applicants. I cannot stress enough that becoming a pattern tester means you are testing the written pattern for inconsistencies and flaws so that I may sell it later. Your only compensation will be a free pattern for the turtle tot of your choosing! You do not have the right to circulate said pattern, or to profit off of what you make from it. You are also responsible for buying your own supplies. The loose deadline to have the pattern completed is by the end of September (subject to change).

Application:

Please send me an ask if you have any questions! Good luck everyone!

[yellowhollyhock]

The turtles who are more free to roam would possess certain social skills that their stealthier counterparts wouldn't. I mean all the turtles can improv and do disguises, but the rise and 87 kids can walk through a crowded shopping mall and do something about it if someone gets their order wrong. Like

2003 Leo: Everyone keeps giving us dirty looks. Do you think they know about our mission?

2012 Leo: I knew these disguises wouldn't work!

1987 Raphael: Hey, turtle dee and turtle dum, they're staring because you're stopped in the middle of the crosswalk.

03 turtles apologizing to everyone they bump into, probably about to cry

Rise Donnie: You guys are acting like you've never walked before.

2012 Mikey: Aw, they forgot the extra hot sauce packets :(

his brothers: Ah too bad

Rise Mikey: Leave it to Dr. Delicate Touch. *inhale*

2012 turtles: wait no no no--

Rise Mikey: HOT SAUCE PACKETS FOR TABLE FIVE PLEASE

someone brings, Rise Mikey thanks them sweetly

2012 Leo: That... wasn't as bad as I thought

Rise Mikey: Well of course I'm not gonna be rude to waitstaff, what were you raised in a sewer lol

2003 Raph: We're going in there?

1987 Donatello: Yep

2003 Raph: You sure you can't find this part at a junkyard or something?

1987 Donatello: Hey listen, plot convenience can only take us so far. This is a really specialized part, I gotta talk to the shop owner

2003 Raph: Okay, no problem. We'll be in and out before anyone sees us. You just focus on finding the shop owner, I got your back.

1987 Donatello: I'm pretty sure he'll just be at the counter.

Raph:

Donatello: Thank you though :)

*15 minutes later*

Raph: You put me through this for a wrench?!

Donatello: I had to make sure it was the correct size. Besides, you were fine, the lady behind you in line loved telling you about her home repairs.

Raph: I can't believe we stood in line for ten minutes.

Donatello: Oh that's nothing, last week I waited almost thirty minutes

Raph: You come here every week?! (this is how the 87 turtles win his respect)

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

I dislike Turtle x Kinkajou, why didn’t Tui just let Kinkajou have a crush on Turtle BEFORE the brainwashing??? I’m never gonna buy it now because it only started being a mutual crush from that point, even having Kinkajou say something like “Turtles cute!” in any of the previous books would’ve helped it! I feel it’s only popular because everyone likes Turtle(hell, I LOVE TURTLE!) and want to see him be with his crush, and unfortunately his other popular ships(Pertle(🤢) Moontle, and whatever he Qibli and Winter have going on) are pedophilic and shit(legitimately I hate Peril x Turtle SO MUCH) impossible via canon(unfortunate since I really like Moon x Turtle) or have him as the third one

TLDR: Please God(Tui) bless Turtle with a different quirky lovable genki girl so Kinkajou can be free, you did it for Starflight, you can do it again!

.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #6 – Exordia by Seth Dickinson

This is a book I have been looking forward to for quite literally years, from someone who is easily one of my favourite working authors. I also read the short story the book was expanded out from before I even knew it was going to be a book, and so went in spoiled on the broad strokes of what turned out to be the climax of the whole thing. All to say my opinion on this is unlikely to match that of the typical reader, I guess.

Anyway, Exordia is a glorious spectacular mess that has no right to cohere anywhere near as well as it does. It’s target audience is small, but I’m certainly somewhere in it. Please ignore all the marketing it’s so bad you have to wonder if someone at Tor just has it out for the author.

Exordia is a, well, a profoundly difficult book to give any sort of plot summary for. The first act involves Anna, a 30-something survivor of the Anfal Genocide now living a rather unimpressive life in New York City, until one day in the early 2010s she sees an alien eating the turtles in Central Park. Then there’s a cat-and-mouse hunt between terrifying alien snake-centaurs for the future of free will in the galaxy, and the plot jumping to kurdistan, and six more POV characters from as many different nations, and nuclear weapons, and oh so many people dying messily. The first act is an oddly domestic and endearing piece of table setting, the second is (to borrow the idiom of the book’s own marketing) Tom Clancy meets Jeff Vandermeer or Roadside Picnic, and the third is basically impossible to describe without a multipage synopsis, but mostly concerned with ethical dilemmas and moral injuries. It’s to the book’s credit that it never bats an eye at shifting focus and scale, but it does make coming to grips with it difficult.

This is, as they say, a thematically dense book, but it’s especially interested in the fallout of imperialism. The Obama-era ‘don’t do stupid shit’ precise and sterile form of it in particular – the book’s a period piece for a reason, after all. The ethics of complicity – of being offered the choice of murdering and betraying those around you or having an alien power with vastly superior destructive powers inflict an order of magnitude more misery to you, them, and everyone in the same general vicinity to punish you for the inconvenience – is one that gets a lot of wordcount. It is not an accident that the man most willing and able to collaborate with the overwhelming powerful alien empire in hopes of bargaining some future for humanity is the National Security Council ghoul who came out of organizing surveillance information for the drone wars. It’s also not a coincidence that the main (if only by a hair) protagonist is someone with a lot of bitter memories over how the US encouraged Iraq’s kurdish population to rebel in the ‘90s and then just washed their hands and let them be massacred (the book couldn’t actually ship with a historical primer on modern kurdish history, so it’s woven into the story in chunks with varying amount of grace. But it is in fact pretty thematically key here).

Speaking of complicity, the book’s other overriding preoccupation in (in the broadest sense) Trolley Problems. Is it better to directly kill a small number of people or, through your inaction, allow a larger number to die? Does it matter is the small number is your countrymen and the larger foreigners, or vice versa? What about humans and aliens? Does it matter whether the choice is submitting to subjugation or killing innocents as a means to resist it? What about letting people around you die to learn the fundamental truth of the cosmos? Does the calculus change when you learn that immortal souls (and hell) are real? This is the bone the story is really built around chewing on.

All that probably makes the text seem incredibly didactic, or at least like a philosophical dialogue disguised as a novel. Which really isn’t the case! The book definitely has opinions, but none of the characters are clear author-avatars, and all perspectives are given enough time and weight to come across as seriously considered and not just as cardboard cutouts to jeer at. Okay, with the exception of one of the two aliens who you get the very strong sense is hamming it up as a cartoon villain just for the of it (he spends much of the book speaking entirely in all caps). There definitely are a couple points where it feels like the books turning and lecturing directly at the reader, but they’re both few and fairly short.

The characters themselves are interesting. They’re all very flawed, but more than that they’re all very...embodied, I guess? Distracted with how hot someone is, concerned with what they ate that morning or the smell of something disgusting, still not over an ex from years ago. Several of them are also sincerely religious in a way that’s very true to life to actual people but you rarely see in books. The result is that basically comes as being far more like actual humans than I’m at all used to in most fiction (of course, a lot of those very human qualities get annoying or eye-roll inducing fairly quickly. But hey, that’s life). Though that’s all mostly the case at the start of the book – the fact that the main cast are slowly turning into caricatures of themselves as they’re exposed to the alien soul manipulation technology is actually a major plot point, which I’m like fifty/fifty on being commentary on what happens to the image and legacy of people as they’re caught up in grand narratives versus just being extended setup for a joke about male leads in technothrillers being fanfic shipbait.

Part of the characters seeming very human is that some (though by no means all) of the POVs are just incredibly funny, in that objectively fucked up and tasteless way that people get when coping with overwhelming shock or trauma. It’s specifically because the jokes are so in-your-face awful that they fit, I think? It manages to avoid the usual bathetic trap a lot of works mixing in humour with drama fall into, anyway.

Speaking of alien soul manipulation technology – okay, you know how above I said that the points where the book directly lectured the reader were few and far between. This is true for lectures about politics or morality. All the freed up space in this 530 page tome is instead used for technobabble about theoretical math. Also cellular biology, cryptography, entropics, the organization of the American security state, how black holes work, and a few dozen other things. This book was edited for accuracy by either a doctoral student from every physical science and an award winning mathematician, or else just by one spectacularly confident bullshitter with several hundred hours on wikipedia. Probably both, really. I did very much enjoy this book, but that is absolutely predicated on the fact that when I knew when to let my eyes glaze over and start skimming past the proper nouns.

The book has a fairly complete narrative arc in its own right, but the ending also screams out for a sequel, and quite a lot of the weight and meaning of the book’s climax does depend on followthrough and resolution in some future sequel. Problematically, the end of the book also includes a massive increase in scale, and any sequel would require a whole new setting and most of a new cast of characters, so I’m mildly worried how long it will be before we get it (if ever).

The book is also just very...I’m not sure flabby is the right word, but it is doing many many different things, and I found some of them far more interesting than others. I’m not sure whether Dickinson just isn’t great at extended action scenes or if I am just universally bored by drawn out Tom Clancy fantasies, but either way there were several dozen pages too many of them. The extended cultural digressions about the upbringing and backstories of each of the seven POVs were meanwhile very interesting! (Mostly, I got bored of the whole Erik-Clayton-Rosamaria love triangle Madonna complex thing about a tenth of the way into the book but it just kept going.) It did however leave the book very full of extended tangents and digressions, even beyond what the technobabble did. Anna herself, ostensibly the main protagonist, is both utterly thematically loadbearing but very often feels entirely vestigial to the actual, like, plot, brought along for the ride because she’s an alien terrorist’s favourite of our whole species of incest-monkeys. The end result is, if not necessarily unfocused, then at least incredibly messy, flitting back and forth across a dozen topics that on occasion mostly just seem unified by having caught the author’s interest as they wrote.

It’s interesting to compare the book to Anna Saves It All, the short story it was based on – quite a lot changed! But that’s beyond the scope of this already overlong review. So I guess I’ll just say make sure to read the book first, if you’re going to.

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

🍒Welcome to My Pad!🍒

Hi there! I'm Cherry or Cherri! I'm a female artist from Utah who loves ninja turtles, vampires, 80s glam, and cheesy early 2000 crime shows!

My pronouns are She/Her or They/Them! I'm Bi-curious heterosexual!

I'm a fellow selship artist/writer who's mostly known in the TMNT Fandom and Lost Boys Fandom for my Tamsin and Chrysta! But I'm into more than just these shows. You can also find me scrolling around in...

The Tolkien universe, Fablehaven, 80s Horror slashers, indie horror games, Lackadaisy, Psych, Office, Eddsworld, Demon Slayer, Marvel, Spider-verse, Merlin, Invader Zim, Narnia, Animaniacs, and MANY more!

Find me on Discord under hyp0criticaltypewriter and Instagram hypocriticaltypwriter!

You can also see a few of my OCs and Other self Inserts as well here!

-Nancy Sullivan

-Gwendolyn

-Tammy Sullberry

-Talaney Anne Morris

-Parker Peterson

-Kana Rengoku [OC wip]

-Taiko Ayashi [OC wip]

-Amai Roberts [OC wip]

- Pam Suthers [Self insert wip]

-Evelyn Rose [Self insert wip]

-Nimzy [OC wip]

-Moonshire [OC wip]

🍒🩷About Me🩷🍒

My hobbies include baking, jewelry making, embroidery, drawing, writing, and singing! I enjoy very homey and crafty activities, especially things to do while relishing in my love for traveling and camping!

I'm usually comfortable with sharing F/Os, but feel free to talk to me if so! Sometimes, it depends on certain or specific F/Os!

I love meeting people, so feel free to talk to me! My inbox or messages are always open as long as you can be polite and respectful. Everyone is welcome, and my page is a safe place! I will not tolerate Proship, pedo, tcest/incest, racism, homophobia. Please DNI and or block me before I block you.

My blog is meant for ages 16+!

✍️Sideblogs✍️

@sentimentalkeyboard [original characters and writing]

@hypocriticalspicewrites [NSFW blog. 18+ ONLY please!]

🛼RP blogs🛼

@chrissiepop

@miss-nancy-sullivan

@leather-studded-emerson

@babe-of-your-nightmares

@shy-2-bite

@twisted-sisterz-number1

@daddys-precious-little-monster

@dead-n-hopeless

🩷✨️TAGS✨️🩷

🍒daily dose of cherry🍒 [all my art and writing will be found under this tag!]

🍒cherrys spice cabinet🔥 [spicy/NSFW art and writing tag]

fruitbats🦇🍒 [Lost Boys selship tag]

🎀CobraBaby🎀 [stand by me selfship tag]

🦇🤍White Wedding AU🤍🦇 [The Lost Boys AU tag]

❤️‍🔥Little Red Corvette❤️‍🔥 [Stranger Things selship tag]

🤘🏻🎸Most Excellent Tutor⚡️🤘🏼 💔🤖Bogus Babe🤖💔 [Bill and Ted movie Tags]

🍊💜 and tamsitello [ROTTMNT/TMNT selship tag]

the last hope au [for my ROTTMNT AU]

🩵blueflames❤️‍🔥 [demon slayer oc ship

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💚🐈‍⬛️kittypaws🐈🩵 [lackadaisy selfship]

❌️kordy🧡 [eddsworld selfship]

CITIZENS OF THE CHERRY CONATION STATION NATION YOU HAVE A NEW DECREE AND RULE: Any posts of my silly KIEFER SUTHERLAND or ALEX WINTER you are OBLIGATED to tag me 🫵 IF YOU DO NOT FOLLOW THE RULES YOU ARENT ALLOWED TO THE SLEEPOVER and you CAN'T watch LOST BOYS or BILL AND TED with US

[thefuzzzz]

What Pets I Think Different Karasuno Ships Would Have In The Future:

KageHina would have a turtle for reasons I do not know and cannot confirm but just suspect deep in my heart. Like, Hinata seems like the type to think turtles are cool and Kageyama seems like the type of guy to really like reptiles (they’re autistic. bite me.) Turtles can be left alone for a while, as long as they have food, water, the right habitat and someone to at least check in on them daily, so I think it would fit their super fast paced pro volleyball player lives.

DaiSuga would have this giant ass ex-police dog that retired after working with Daichi for a while. It’d be a really sweet, but huge, German shepherd that lives only to torment Suga. It’s Daichi’s dog, but will happily stand directly under Suga’s feet while he’s trying to do literally anything. Suga pretends to hate it, but Daichi has like a million of those “my husband and the dog he didn’t want” pictures of the two of them being pals when Suga thinks no one is looking. Sometimes Daichi brings his huge dog with him when he drives to pick Suga up from the school. All the kids love that dog, and Suga bends and lets Daichi bring it for career day one day. The kids lose their minds.

TsukiYama would have Yamaguchi’s childhood dog that I SWEAR he had in the manga, but I just googled it and I may be crazy or mixing him up with someone else. Either way, he has a childhood dog now. It’s this mega-old Shiba that they’re both convinced will outlive them. Tsukishima pretends to be indifferent about the dog, but he treats it like a king when no one is looking. They also have like a lizard or something because they seem like the types to have a lizard. Maybe like a frog. Idk, but a reptile of some kind that Tsukishima just stares at sometimes.

AsaNoya would have two cats (Asahi’s) and a dog (Noya’s). It took the two of them a while to settle down, due to the nature of their careers, but after they did Asahi kept finding cats outside their house and begging Noya to let him keep them. Noya, of course, folds. They're both pretty scuffed-up alley cats, but they adjust to domestic life. I imagine that they’re both special needs cats of some kind and Asahi takes insanely good care of them. Noya decides that he needs a little high-energy friend, and they get a border collie. Noya very frequently goes on runs and stuff with it while Asahi stays home and cuddles with his cats. The dog is very gentle with the cats, and they like to cuddle pile while their humans take a million pictures of them.

TanaKiyo would have literally the dumbest looking pit bull with the biggest heart and a super sassy pretty white cat. The pittie is a super sweet older dog that Tanaka had for a long time, but is still super playful and silly. The cat is Kiyoko’s little princess, and is treated as such. That cat is a menace. Constantly antagonizes everyone and is so mean for no reason. Tanaka threatens to sell it daily. The only thing stopping him is how much Kiyoko loves it.

(P.S. I haven’t watched the show in a while and am just going through my annual summer Haikyuu withdrawals, so please excuse anything that’s OOC. Also, sorry if there’s a ship you don’t particularly like. I’m a huge multishipper, and would love to see your interpretations of other ships in the replies or reblogs!!! I sadly don’t know enough about the other teams to make one of these for them, so feel free to ham it up and make one of your own! Tag me tho cuz I wanna see lol)

[stone-stars]

Transcript:

Murph: Uh-- (reading) “All that's left is some crusts and a pile of anchovies that the princess picked off her slices.” Caldwell: Eee-Yuck! Emily: Can I bring up something random? [Everyone laughs] Caldwell: Please do! Please! Murph, laughing: We're on page FIVE. What do you want, Emily?? Emily, laughing: I wanna bring up something-- (trails off into laughter) Caldwell: Let's make this a two-parter boys! Emily, laughing: What if-- Okay, now I'm just laughing cause you're mad. Caldwell: Emily's had half a gluten free beer. Murph, exasperated: What do you want? Emily: What if there-- like, imagine a (laughs) parallel universe where Mario and Luigi are obsessed with bagels, not pizza. Does that exist-- Caldwell: They're not obsessed with pizza at all???? Murph: They're not obsessed with pizza??? Caldwell: That's the ninja turtles! Murph, laughing: That's the-- they just ate pizza in this one instance! Emily: No no no, but they've eaten pizza-- Murph: No, they haven't! When did they eat-- Caldwell: Like twice! Emily: Like in the movies they eat pizza. 'Cause they're from Brooklyn! Murph: There's one movie! Caldwell: What movies?? Murph: I don't remember it! Do you remember it? Caldwell: Are you sure-- You're thinking of-- Murph: Do they eat pizza in it??? Caldwell, urgently: Do you think-- Are you thinking of the ninja turtles?? Emily, laughing: I might be! Caldwell: It's like, pretty-- [Emily and Murph are dying laughing] Emily, through laughter: Okay, another-- another-- Murph, laughing: Emily. Caldwell: Let-- usually I want to go with you, but. Murph, a word at a time through laughter: Emily. Interrupted the book. To. Make. A-- Caldwell: A-a baseless claim! Murph, still laughing: Yeah! [Emily laughs] Murph: To talk about a false premise! Of the Mario brothers loving pizza. Emily: Okay, wait! Murph: And what if they loved bagels instead? Who-- Who cares? Caldwell: Well that's why at the beginning of Mario 64-- [They start talking over each other.] Emily: Another random thought! Murph: Alright everybody, shut up! Caldwell: You gotta talk quieter. [Murph cackles] Emily: What if the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were obsessed with bagels? Murph: Oh, boy, this is off the rails already.