#for any rendition of the turtles

[coconut-oil-smells]

I just donated blood so here's my reasons why the ninja turtles would donate blood. Even if they shouldn't.

Leo: thinks it's good for team building

Mickey: likes giving back to the community

Doniphan: does it annually to decrease the levels of microplastics in his blood

Raph: doesn't do it cuz he doesn't want to be caught unawares low on blood

[lovebugism]

☄. *. ⋆ ┄ We Fight to Make Up

summary: after a run-in with your ex, steve's anger gets the best of him. sometimes you think he picks a fight just for the make up sex. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 7.6k warnings: smut, steve calls himself daddy once, briefly mentioned breeding kink, a touch of angst, insecure!steve, also steve with scruff because that needs a warning too, 18+ mdni a/n: ok i'm not the happiest with this but it's been sitting in my drafts for so long and she needs to see the world now so.. enjoy? <3

You don’t go out anymore. None of the party does, really.

Fighting through the end of the world and somehow surviving for three years straight made bars and clubs and getting drunk seem a little less important. It gets too easy to stay within the inner circle that’s seen the same sort of hell you’ve seen.

Eventually, time goes on and you don’t realize that you’ve only been around the same ten people until the thought of going to the grocery store alone sounds scary. 

Fighting monsters, weathering alternate dimensions, beating up Russians soldiers — that’s cake. It’s the getting back to normal that’s so hard.

That's a bitter pill to swallow. None of you got to have too much of a childhood before the knowledge of a sentient darkness swirling beneath your feet turned everything upside down (no pun intended). A life with a regular routine unbound by the impending doom of an armageddon is hard to go back to, when fighting to stay alive is all you’ve ever done.

You try really hard, though. All of you do.

The kids try to find a nostalgic amusement in the arcade they used to frequent while grappling with the fact that they’ll never been those kids again. The older group of you dabbles in the simple pleasure of growing up and discovering what adulthood really means — getting drunk and going dancing just because you can, but facing the inevitable consequences of those actions all on your own. 

The six of you find a certain solace at the Limelight. For Steve and Jonathan, they serve good beer — obviously cheap and unusually tangy on the tongue, but nice and cold nonetheless. For Eddie and Robin, there’s a karaoke machine and a stage across the bar, complete with every rock ballad imaginable. You and Nancy take special interest in the dance floor — a platform with light-up rainbow squares for all your drunken twirling needs.

It’s a nice place. More than that, it’s a familiar one. Eventually, going there every friday night is like comfort food in the belly, pleasant and warm. Steve feels safe there when he’s with all of you and tonight he’s especially fuzzy with a quiet sort of happiness that’s got his cheeks all pink. 

Maybe the beer is partly to blame. 

Or maybe it’s because you’ve got your hand tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, anchoring yourself to him and simultaneously fending off any unwanted attention from the scantily clad women around you who can't seem to take their eyes away from your Steve.

But he only watches you as you smile into your glass while Eddie Munson, all sweaty after his Madison Square Garden worthy rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart, tells some stupidly unfunny joke. You’re pressed contently into his side, like you would melt into him if you could, and he’s buzzing with the comfort of your warmth and the chemically induced mellow from the drink in his cup. 

It was a good night. An easy one. A fun one.

And then it just… wasn’t.

When your ex waltzes into the bar, he brings the cold air in with him and an unusual sophisticated energy that’s typically foreign to this side of town. He’s got on a gray corduroy blazer and slacks to match. The black turtle neck he wears beneath it clings to his lean torso and broad chest, like he wants people to marvel at how muscular he is. 

You don’t even realize it’s him at first. You turn to Nancy to talk shit about the douchebag at your eight o’clock that just walked in while the guy settles at the far end of the bar, around the corner that faces the group of you. He removes the dark Ray-Bans from the straight bridge of his nose and uses them to push back his cinnamon-colored curls. 

Steve feels you tense at his side then. You duck inside yourself and force him and Robin to form a makeshift shield around you. 

It’s a tad too dramatic for two people who ended on pretty decent terms. It was about as amicable as a breakup can be — you were both seventeen and thankfully already mature enough to know that the relationship wasn’t bound to make it outside of high school. So you split up in search of more fulfilling things.

You found yours, in Steve and in the rest of the party. And by the looks of it — the obviously expensive suit and the silver Rolex glittering under the dim yellow bar light — he found his.

You aren’t exactly sure how, but he sees you. 

Probably because Robin couldn’t stop ogling at him from over her shoulder, obviously not getting the hint to act casual and inevitably dragging his attention over to the group of you.

He’s confused by the attention at first and then beaming when he notices you. The man flashes a set of pearly whites beneath a plump pink grin, all but shoving through the crowded bar to come and meet you.

Steve is able to get a better look at him when he’s no more than a couple inches away. The guy wrenches you away from him to wrap you in a friendly embrace, smiling like a ray of a thousands suns while he laughs with a hearty mirth.

A childlike and terribly jealous scowl settles upon Steve's features as his stomach wrenches something fierce. This stranger is touching you, and he hates that he’s touching you, but it’s more than that.

Steve’s almost certain this is what he would look like if he hadn’t been through the end of the world. The ornate suit and sunglasses worth more than most people’s salaries could’ve been his. In another life, he could’ve been this pretty and perfect and pure.

But, instead, here he is — dressed in an aged Hawkins Tigers sweatshirt and hand-me-down jeans that are frayed at the hems. There are bits of dried blood on the knee that he can’t get out. He isn’t quite sure if it’s his or if it belongs to one of the three varying monsters he’s been face-to-face with over the years. 

His hair is pushed back and visibly un-styled, fluffier than usual because it hasn’t been washed in a while. And only now does he notice the prickly layer of scruff itching at his jaw and above his lip because the effort to shave is just too much sometimes.

He wishes he had, though. Now, he wants to completely perfect his appearance and change his life entirely — all at the sight of some stranger he didn't know existed before now.

The man introduces himself to the rest of the group when he parts from you — Todd. 

Because of coursehis name is Todd.

No one says that out loud, of course, but you do share pairs of knowing looks. Eddie’s the only one brave enough, or rather drunk enough, to take the piss out of the guy. 

“Aren’t you a little overdressed for Limelight?” he asks before laughing into his beer.

The rhetorical question leads to the man, Todd, to start complaining about work — how he’s making more than he knows what to do with, that the lifestyle isn’t as lavish as everyone made it out to be, that work is his best friend most days because he doesn’t have time for real relationships anymore. 

And it doesn’t sound braggy. This isn't some rich guy complaining about all the money he has. He’s genuine, and that’s somehow even worse.

Steve can tell he’s working for some big four accounting firm without him having to say it. He can practically smell it all over the guy. Todd’s just got that air about him, that he’s got an office on the fiftieth story with large glass windows that span from the floor to the ceiling. He’s making well into the six-figures if that’s the case. Just like his goddamn dad. 

Just like he would be if the endless cycling of fighting hadn’t stripped him flesh from bone.

Steve forces himself to shove that thought to the back of his mind.

“You know I’ve actually been thinking about, you know, just dropping everything. Putting in my two weeks and fucking off to France,” Todd admits. His eyes sparkle like a pair of fucking diamonds when they lock in on you. “Like we always used to talk about.”

That was your dream. The kind of reverie that wasn’t at all practical or the least bit tangible, but the kind you fantasized about nonetheless. 

And here this asshole goes, living it for the both of you.

You’re grinning at him anyway, patting him on the shoulder while you congratulate him. You tell him he should do it. That he deserves it. 

Steve, meanwhile, is so angry he can feel the prickle of the red-hot rage on his skin, like so many little needles. It’s a simmering heat for now, all slow and lazy. The longer he holds it in, the more likely he is to pop into a full boil. He knows that. But he keeps the fire in his chest and wallows in that high-pitched ache.

Todd leaves not too long after. Makes it a point not to overstay his welcome. He’s polite when he goes, making sure to talk to all your friends even though he didn’t exactly come for them — he compliments Eddie’s leather jacket and Robin’s taste in style, Jonathan and Nancy are both blushing pink when he praises their work with the local paper. He says something to Steve he can’t quite register because he’s too busy fuming. 

The brunette girl beside him is practically swooning, and he has to remind her — “Robin, you’re gay.”

The man was kind, terribly so, the sort of politeness you can’t help but notice and marvel at, like a pretty pebble you’ve found on the ground. He didn’t overstep any boundaries with you either, like he respected that you two were practically strangers now — fucking asshole — and whether or not he knew you were with Steve, he kept a chivalrous distance anyway.

He must’ve known, though, he did have eyes after all. There’s no way he missed the way Steve had been looming over you the whole time. Or the possessive arm he had around your shoulder. Or the stern chocolate gaze that had ping-ponged between you and him the entire conversation.

When he leaves, there’s nothing to talk shit about or make fun of him for. Not only is that really fucking annoying, but it’s boring, and it leaves you and Steve as the punching bags for all their stupid jokes.

“You certainly have a type, don’t ya, doll?” Eddie teases you as he reaches behind Nancy to shove at your shoulder. “Steve’s practically a carbon copy of that douchebag.”

“Holy shit, I can see it now,” Robin marvels breathlessly. Her deep ocean gaze is still locked on Todd across the bar. He’s minding his own business now, ordering another drink, while the rest of you can’t seem to stop talking about him. She turns back to Steve, her eyes flitting over his features like it’s the first time she’s seeing them while she puts the pieces of a puzzle together. 

“But, Steve’s like the dollar store version of him, though, right?” she wonders rhetorically and then feels the need to explain herself when Steve furrows his brows at her. “—Because, you know… he’s a lot richer than you are…”

The boy rolls his and brings the beer back to his lips. The clarification makes it sting more. 

“Thanks, Rob.”

Steve isn’t quite sure what’s got him seething. He’s the personification of a forest fire now — scorching, raging, and deadly — without a reason to be. It’s entirely likely you’ll never see Todd ever again. He lives in the city these days and he just told you that he was planning on moving to fucking France.

But these facts don’t mean as much to him when he knows that the guy isn’t totally over you. 

Steve knows Todd would be more than happy to take you out for coffee tomorrow morning to tie up any left-behind loose ends. He’s a rich guy going through a quarter-life crisis (Steve knows a little about what that’s like, too), he’d be more than happy to sweep an old ex-girlfriend off her feet and take her all the way to France with him. She’d need only to ask him to.

Maybe that’s what angers him. There’s a man, all rich and pretty and unscathed by war, that might love you like he does.

The wildfire in his chest grows. It’s a wonder it hasn't seared a hole in the fabric of his sweatshirt. And it burns. It leaves aching blisters on his skin like it’s the real damn thing. It’s like punches to the face, worse than every time he’s ever been beaten up combined.

He manages to keep the ashes of himself together. It's the least he can do for the rest of you, who obviously aren’t as bothered by Todd’s lingering presence and have since moved on to things more meaningful.

It wouldn’t be fair to project his ache onto you.

You guys don’t get too many nights like this, with work and school and lingering bouts of PTSD — who’s he to ruin this night for everyone else when he’s the problem?

But if any of you notice his simmering anger, you don’t show it.

He isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or not.

Nancy and Jonathan stay no longer than fifteen minutes after the fact. “We’ve got an early day tomorrow,” the say with a shrug, though everyone knows what that’s code for. Robin makes kissing noises at them as they make their exit.

Now, the brunette girl stands in front of the stage that Eddie parades on. He belts “If you only hold me tight, we’ll be holding on forever!” into the microphone for the hundredth time. She cheers for the boy like it’s the first time she’s ever heard the stupid song.

The bartender hands you two drinks, a couple of Sex on the Beach’s for you and Robin to try.

She hadn’t stopped talking about it since she spotted it on the menu even though she hates peach schnapps. You tell Steve you’re going to run it to her and that you bet she won’t make it through one sip without gagging. You also promise that you’ll try and pull Eddie away from the stage when the Bonnie Tyler song fades and then inevitably loops again.

He only nods and mumbles a vague affirmative under his breath. He doesn’t even look at you. Just stares down at his empty glass of beer and draws patterns on the cloudy cup with his finger. 

It’s hard not to notice his uncharacteristically long silence. 

He hasn’t been King Steve for quite some time, but that version of him always manages to peek out after a couple of drinks. He gets loud and brash and smiley and stupid. It makes the quiet demeanor he possesses now that much more daunting. Like a flag he’s waving to make sure everyone else knows that he’s upset about something or other.

Eventually, it makes you burst.

“Is something wrong?” you blurt.

He finally glances at you then. And has the gall to look confused. “What?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. You shift your weight on your feet and try to ignore the distant stinging of the ice glasses in your hand, how the cold of them shoots pins and needles into your palms. “You’re just… being really quiet.”

“I’m fine,” he dismisses with a shrug of his own. A hint of a smile flashes at the very corner of his mouth before he brings his drink to his lips. He swallows down the rest of it in one quick gulp. You watch anxiously as he waves to the bartender for another. 

“We can go home if you want—”

“Jesus, I’m fine,” he interjects. The laugh that spills from his throat borders on annoyance. “Just go get the freak before he drives me crazy.”

With that, the two of you part ways. You, with the knowledge that something’s wrong with your boyfriend but having no way to make it better because he won’t tell you anything. And Steve, with another irrational reason to be angry at the world because how do you not get it?

If his ex-girlfriend showed up to a bar, looking like an airbrushed model with more money than all of you combined who’s got brains and wit and humility, he’d want you to get a little fucking jealous too.

It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. But he chooses to wallow in his anger than reflect on it, anyway. He takes pity on himself and makes everyone else out to be the enemy. Like he does best.

Even hours later, when he’s sobering up with room temperature water and a bowl of pretzels — and you’re calling a cab for a significantly drunker Eddie and Robin — he still feels the sting. 

He makes sure you know it too. 

The drive back home is uncomfortably quiet, which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if he at least had the radio on. But when he stuck the key into the ignition and music started blaring from the speakers (because he forget to turn it down beforehand), he turns it off completely. You feel to awkward to touch it.

“Do you, uh… Do you wanna talk about it now?” you ask him.

You’re unfamiliarly timid with him as you peer at him through your lashes. It’s like you’re looking at the sun, the way you have to glance at him from the corner of your eye so he won’t blind you. And it isn’t because of his usually sunny disposition because, somewhere along the course of the night, his shine got snuffed out. It’s because he’s practically lit himself on fire with his anger where he sits next to you.

And he still has the nerve to shake his head. “Talk about what? I told you, there’s nothing wrong,” he dismisses with one hand in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the other resting its elbow against the driver’s side door while his fingers pick anxiously at his lower lip. Nothing wrong, my ass.

“Are we seriously gonna play that game tonight?”

“What game?” he scoffs out a laugh.

“The game here you’re upset about something, but refuse to tell me why, so I have to guess what’s wrong with you until I get it right and you let me make it better.”

Steve glances at you and then back to the road. “I… I don’t do that.”

Oh, fuck, he totally does, he thinks to himself. Fuck, he hates that you know him so well.

“You’re literally doing it right now.”

“Well, I can’t be. Because I’m not upset about anything,” he argues with a shrug. “That’s, like, a mathematical impossibility. Or whatever.”

“Considering this is the most you’ve said to me all night, I know that isn’t true— And it’s not even a conversation! You’re just being passive aggressive!”

“Passive aggressive, huh?” he repeats sardonically.

“Yes!” you seethe. “You’re mad at me and I can tell that you’re mad, so just tell me why—”

“I’m not mad at you,” Steve grumbles. He feels even more like shit for making you think he was acting all pissy because of something you had done. You hadn’t done anything. You were perfect. You’re always perfect. And here he goes, making you think otherwise.

He slows to a stop at the last red-light before home. The neon scarlet matches that anger sweltering in his belly. He still refuses to look at you. 

“Then what happened between when we got to Limelight and right now that’s got you so fucked up?” you ask him with a furrowed brow and inquisitive eyes.

The boy only huffs. His chest deflates with a heavy breath. He almost forgets to answer you because he’s too busy praying for the light to turn green so he can get the fuck home.

He just needs a little food in his system, he concludes, and a nice hot shower and a bed to rest his tired bones. Maybe then he’ll be able to function like he’s meant to. 

He feels a sense of relief for the first time in hours when the light bathes the two of you in a neon emerald glow.

You let out a sharp exhale through your nose at his silence. You shake your head at him like an annoyed parent and cross your arms over your chest. Your knees turn away from him and towards the door in time with your gaze that flits to the window. Now you’re the one that’s pissed.

Steve mumbles lowly when he finally answers you. It’s nearly inaudible.

“Your douchebag ex.”

“What?” you reply, sparing a glance over at him. It isn’t a question of whether you heard him or not, but of why that’s what he’s being so mean to you about.

“Your douchebag ex,” he repeats louder and picks chapped skin from his bottom lip. He rubs his tongue over the irritated skin to soothe the burn. “That’s what I’m upset about.”

Your brows furrow as you rack your head for the conversation you had with Todd that you’d already forgotten about. He’d said hello, and that you looked nice, and then asked you what you’d been up to before making conversation with your friends. He’d wished you luck and walked back to his seat not too long after. You wonder if there was some code in his words that you’d missed.

“…I don’t get it. What did he do?”

“Really?” Steve wonders with an emotionless laugh. “You don’t have a single clue why that might’ve pissed me off?”

He barely slows at the sign of the four-way stop. The block is practically a ghost town now. No one’s out so late into the night. Any other time you might’ve said something about it, but you’re just as eager to get home as the simmering boy next to you.

“No! He stopped by to talk for, like, five minutes! Are you really upset because another man talked to me?” you shout and it burns him because, yeah, that is kind of what he’s mad about — but it’s more than that and you don’t seem to get it. It’s not your job to either. He’ll just burn for the both of you.

The car jerks to a stop when he parks in the driveway.

“Yeah, you’re right—” Steve mutters to himself as he snatches the keys from the ignition. “You don’t get it.”

You feel the impact of the slammed of the car door as he exits. The headlights illuminate the boy as he uses his key ring to unlock the front entrance of your shared home. The dim orange overhead light slowly dims above you and then shuts off completely, bathing you in darkness.

With a sigh and a fleeting thought of oh, it’s gonna be that kinda night, huh? you follow less unenthusiastically behind him.

“Then just explain it to me,” you plead, your voice coated with exhaustion. The warmth of the living room seeps into your bones and makes you that much more tired. “I really, really don’t wanna do this tonight.”

“That asshole was all over you,” Steve finally chooses to air his grievances while he toes off his sneakers.

“He hugged me once! What was I supposed to do? Push him off?”

“That’d be a start.”

“I would’ve done it!” you promise.

He plops onto the couch with a rather dramatic huff as you struggle to take off your boots, what with the zipper getting caught in the slider and being distracted by the storm cloud across the room.

“I don’t care about him! I literally haven’t seen him since I was eighteen! I basically forgot he existed in the first place.”

Steve doesn’t let himself take any solace in your words.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs with the shake of his head. He rests his elbows on his knees, runs his palms over his face once before dragging his fingers through his mussed hair. “Sometimes… I don’t know, I guess, sometimes it feels like maybe you deserve someone better than me.”

His confession feels like a stab in your heart. 

You can only imagine how many daggers are piercing him now.

“Steve…”

“No. Don’t give me that bullshit spiel, alright?” he spurns with a shake of his stubborn head. When he laughs, it lacks any and all emotion; it’s gut-wrenchingly bitter and coated with venom. “We both know he could take way better care of you than I ever could. He’s practically a fucking millionaire, babe! And he’s, what, twenty-five? He has the money to drop everything and fly across the world— to France.”

“Steve—” you try again, to stop the spiral before it starts.

He doesn’t let you.

“I mean, fuck, I know how bad you wanna go there. You’ve been talking about it since we were eight,” he laments with wide, glassy eyes and an hand splayed out towards you. He brings it, then, to his chest and clutches at his heart, “But I can’t take you. Because I’m so broke, it fucking hurts. You deserve someone to do that shit for you, alright? And it’s not me. It’s never gonna be me.”

“…You really think he can take better care of me than you do?” you ask him so quietly that it sounds like a whimper. Your face is twisted in anguish, like his sadness pains you too.

“Well, yeah,” he chuckles like the answer’s obvious. He sniffles. “Considering we’re working our asses off just to make it through the week and you’d never have to work a day in your life if you were with that asshole.”

“It’s not about the money, Steve,” you agonize with the shake of your head. “I don’t love him. I would be so unhappy if I were with him because he’s not you. I don’t give a single fuck about France if you’re not gonna be there with me.”

You close the distance between you as you walk from the entrance to where he sits in the living room. He can hardly look at you as you round the couch to stand ahead of him, sparing only meek glances your way.

The small smile on your lips only half puts out the fire raging in his chest. It’s one of those natural wildfires now. The kind that you’ve just got to let burn.

“What do I have to do, Steve? What do you want me to do to prove that I just want you?” you ask him softly, nudging your sock-clad foot with his own. “I’ll fucking— I’ll find his number in the phone book right now and invite him over if you want—”

Yeah, because seeing him again is gonna make any of this shit better, he thinks bitterly to himself, though he’s pleasantly surprised by your following promise.

“I’ll make him come over here, act like I wanna catch up or whatever, and then make him watch while I suck your cock,” you paint the picture for him in a suddenly low, sultry tone.

Steve can almost see it —  the look on Todd’s face as he stands in the foyer, his hands balled into fists at his side, wearing an angry amber tint upon his perfect face while he watches the girl that got away take a mouthful of another man’s dick. “I’ll get all nice and pretty on my knees for you and make him watch.”

Steve tenses at your words. His fingers twitch where they rests on his knees, itching to get a hold of you. His eyes go heavy as he gazes up at you, his stern stare looking much darker than before — hungrier. 

Your eyes carry a similar sort of desire. They swim with innocence and yearning and knowing. 

Because both of you understand how your fights usually end. You’ve been together long enough to know. The anger grows and grows in the belly of a dragon until it’s all you can do to keep your hands off of each other. You make Steve come so hard he forgets all the reasons he was raging in the first place and then he apologizes with his tongue deep inside you, touching you in all the tender ways he knows how.

“Yeah,” he breathes with a nod, the word heavy on his tongue. “That’s what I want.”

“You wanna own me, don’t you, Stevie?” you purr.

Your movements are calculated and cat-like as you mount him. Your hands caress him from his knees to his thighs, then rise up to his chest when you straddle his lap. “You wanna fuck me and make me forget about every guy that’s ever had me before you. Is that it?”

He nods, too dumb to speak for now. Your voice is all silk and heat. It reminds him of your wet, hot pussy sitting just over his lap. Only the thin layers of your clothes separate you from him.

“You wanna ruin everyone else for me, huh?”

“Fuck, yes,” he breathes, both in an answer and a moan as your hand reaches between you to grab his cock through his jeans.

“You already have,” you assure with a sincere twinkle in your eyes. “But feel free to remind me.”

When your mouths collide, it’s all tongue and teeth and spit. It’s not passionate, it’s dirty.

His tongue forces its way between your lips and into your mouth, rubbing every part of you he can reach with the muscle, like he wants you to feel all of him there — a lingering touch that you can’t get rid of.

Your mouths caress each other and then break apart again in acute, wet, and filthy clicks that fill the silence in the house. 

His stubble softly scratches you as it rubs against your skin. The feeling of it sends chills down your spine. Fuck, you curse to yourself. It’d feel even better between your legs.

Steve separates from you suddenly, his teeth digging into your bottom lip. A whimper leaves your throat as he mouths at it. With hooded eyes, he lets it go and watches it fall back into place. Then he grabs your cheeks with two large palms and drags you back to him, sucking on the bitten skin and then on your tongue. 

The sensation’s got you moaning, your eyes rolling back in your head, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Your obedient hands worm between your bodies to unbuckle his belt.

“You gonna be good for me?” Steve asks you while your fingers undo that button on his pants. His lips are pinker and more swollen, coated with a fine sheen of spit that matches what's smeared on his chin.

“I’ll be so good for you, Stevie,” you promise before reaching through the band of his underwear to wrap your fingers around his warm, half-hard cock. 

A grunt escapes his throat as he slides your panties to the side. He’s suddenly grateful for the easy access granted by your dress — the one that makes your tits look like heaven, the one he was cursing just hours because it had Todd drooling all over himself when he saw you.

The thought of the man no longer angers him. He’s not the one with his finger between the lips of your pussy, already drenched and coated with you.

“Yeah? You want daddy to fill your hungry little cunt?” Steve asks you, almost taunting you. He only uses that nickname when he’s in a certain mood — the mood to ruin you.

The tip of his finger catches the peak of your swollen clit and you keen.

His touch makes you so stupid that you’ve already forgotten to answer his question. He makes sure to remind you, though, when his hand rears back and smacks against the bare flesh of your cunt.

You hear the wet slap before you feel it. 

It makes you clench around nothing and moan louder for him, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Words,”he demands softly.

“Please,” you moan helplessly into his shoulder. You love when he gets like this, assertive and showy with the power you let him have over you. He gets mean with you, but never too much that you forget how much he loves you, and that’s when you like him best.

His finger slips so effortlessly into you. You could easily take more than that with the way your pussy is so eager to suck him inside. He knows it, too. He just wants to tease you.

He wants to leave you empty and yearning before he fucks you silly. For now, he’s taunting you with his slow and clinical touch, observing everything he’s doing to you and how it has you twitching and begging for more. 

He wants to commit it all to memory. 

He’s barely got the tip of his pointer and middle finger prodding at your clenching entrance; it’s your pussy that drags them further in, opening for him and then tightening around the appendages so they’ll never leave. The obscenity of it makes both of you moan.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty like this,” Steve mutters to himself. “And so fucking wet— enough for me to slip right in, don’t ya think?”

You’re not so sure but you nod into his shoulder anyway. Even after all this time together, you can’t quite get used to how big he is. He still has to work you up to take his cock, with three or more fingers shoved inside of you until you’re ready. Even then, it still burns for the first couple of seconds. There’s always a grace period that you have to wait for before he can move. 

And you feel the ache of him in your belly after, every damn time. Like he’s still there.

But you’re so wet now, impossibly so, you don’t think you could feel a thing other than pure bliss when he nestles his cock deep inside of you.

You whine quietly when he pulls his fingers from you, though it turns into a breathy moan when you see them glisten with your wetness. He slides them over his length, jerking himself to lube himself up for you. Just for good measure, he grabs hold of his cock and rubs the rounded tip between your velvet lips, coating it further with your slick. 

“Think there’s enough for me to take your ass tonight, baby?” he asks over your low moan. He has to hold back his own, grit his teeth to keep it from leaving his mouth. God, you feel exactly like silk. “You want me to fuck that tight little hole, huh? You’ve only let me in there, right?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer tightly. 

He doesn’t know which question you’re answering. Probably all three. Or maybe you’re just moaning because he’s got you all stupid with his cock and it’s not even inside of you yet. Both seems most likely.

Steve positions himself against you. When you feel the bulbous tip of his head, you hardly wait to slide down, down, down upon his cock. 

It doesn’t take long for you to feel full. It takes less time before he reaches the apparent end of you. The feeling makes you jolt against him, like your body’s trying to move back up and away from the sensation on instinct. He’s quick to grab your hips to keep himself inside you.

“Uh-uh,” he hums. “Don’t run away from me.”

“Fuck,” you moan into his shoulder and then whine. The pleasure and the accompanying ache has your head spinning. “You’re already so deep.”

“I know, baby. You gotta take all of me, though, okay? Said you were gonna me by good girl, remember?”

His coo is enough to comfort you. You nod against his neck and let him guide you further and further down his cock.

You grit your teeth when you think he can’t possibly fill you anymore. The burn peaks all at once and ebbs so quickly, letting the rest of his inches slide in you with ease. And, god, if you don’t feel him in your fucking throat. 

He stills, thankfully, and lets you get used to the feeling of him all over again.

“There you go,” Steve praises like he always does and then laughs at how rigid you’ve gone. “Breathe, baby.”

The exhale comes out as a sob and a small “fuck”, but you force yourself to relax against him nonetheless. His warm hands rub soothingly against the buzzing skin of your thighs beneath the skirt of your dress. “Doing so good for me, baby.”

“I can feel you in my fucking guts right now,” you slur, voice fragile like glass.

Your words are almost enough to make him burst and you haven’t even moved yet. A deep, hearty groan climbs from his throat. He tips his heavy head to the back of the couch and clenches his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut to stave off the feeling.

He makes himself climb down from the peak of pleasure and quickly gain his bearings all over again.

“Ride me, honey,” he whispers you.

Immediately, you start rocking your hips against him. His sigh is blissful, almost dreamy, as he watches you work yourself on top of him. 

You’re always so patient with your pleasure, so calculated and attentive. You slide your hips back over his thighs and then up again, moaning every time the material of his sweatshirt rubs against your clit. You’re not chasing the feeling, you’re letting it come slowly and ease its way up to you. You know you’ve got all the time in the world.

Steve has always admired your patience, but it’s never one he could hope to possess. He rides toward an orgasm on a white mare. He claims it, he hunts it, he snatches it. Because, you’re right, you’ve got all the time in the world — he wants you to come as many times as the night (or, rather, your pussy) will allow.

So it isn’t at all surprising when gets impatient with your slow movements. And when one hand falls to your ass and the other slides up your back and clutches the opposite shoulder, you know what you’re in for. 

Even though you’re expecting it, a high-pitched moan spills from your mouth when he starts fucking up into you. He’s doing a whole lot more than just hitting the right spot. The rubbing of the fabric is unrelenting against your clit.

You’re always done for when he takes you like this. Both of you know it.

“You already close, aren’t you?” he manages through heavy pants over the lewd slapping of his thighs against your own. “This is all it takes, huh?”

“’S because of you,” you slur into the sticky skin of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you moan.

He can feel himself getting closer and he groans through gritted teeth. The hand on your shoulder ascends to the back of your head. His fingers tangle in your hair and pull you from the refuge you’d found in the book of his shoulder. It allows him to see you for the first time since you’d mounted his cock.

Your cheeks are blotchy and glowing cherry. Your eyes are glassy and glazed over with pleasure. Your lips swollen from where you’d been biting at them. 

Perfect, he thinks to himself.

He drags that hand to your chest, wrenching at the plunging neck and pushing it down to reveal your tits. They bound out of the fabric with ease, a small red and raw line at the tops of them from where the dress had kept them so tightly contained. 

He palms at your left breast, digs his fingers into the fat of it and lets your hard and pebbled nipple rub against his palm.

“Fuck, baby,” he almost whines. It takes all of his willpower to keep his eyes open to look at them. “You’ve got the prettiest fucking tits I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s why I wore this— wanted your attention—” you confess through each of his thrusts.

“Yeah, you got my fucking attention, sweetheart,” he manages a breathy laugh.

His heart swells at the thought of you picking this dress because you thought he might like it. That you’d think of him doing something as mundane as picking what you wore out to the bar you went to every Friday night. 

It gets too easy to want to slip into that softness. But he knows that you’re already close. So, so fucking close. 

“Now come all over my cock for me, yeah?” he demands softly. “Cream on this dick and show me how good you are.”

And, like the good girl you are, don’t need to be told twice.

You shudder against him and then go rigid. He watches with a proud, lazy grin as you tip your head back, squeeze your eyes shut, and let your mouth fall agape. The feeling in your stomach builds and builds and builds, the pleasure disappearing for a moment, before coming back in an explosion that makes you gush.

As though your moans weren’t enough of a confirmation of your orgasm, you go so unmistakably tight around him that it makes his legs twitch beneath you. He angles his hips so he can peek between the two of you to watch the sheen of your cum glisten on his hard cock. 

“God, you’re so fucking sensitive like this— holy shit.”

“Steve!” you whine when your high starts to fade and his thrusts only quicken. 

He's chasing his own pleasure now, you know that, but the feeling against your abused pussy is growing into a nearly unbearable one.

You bite your lip so hard it’s a wonder you don’t draw any blood. You grip his shoulders and ball his sweatshirt in your fist, tethering yourself to him and to reality.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” he asks with his chin jutted out to look up at you. “Who else can fuck you like this?”

You can tell by his glassy eyes and erratic thrusts that he’s close to his own orgasm. He always wants you to talk him through it, to praise him and to tell him how good he makes you feel. For obvious reason, the whole thing comes terribly natural to you.

“Only you,” you promise tiredly. “’S just you, Stevie—”

“Fuck,” he spits and tilts his head to the back of the couch. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and brings his bottom lip between his teeth, never easing his impossibly swift thrusts.

“Want you to come in me,” you whisper to him. You rest your arms on his shoulders and drag your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and pulling every time he lets a moan slip. “Want you to come so deep inside me— I’m dripping for days—”

“Shit, baby.”

“And then, when I’m all round and full with your baby— everyone’s gonna know who I belong to, right?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans. “Gonna come so— fuck— so nice and deep in this pussy. My pussy.”

“Please,” you beg, like you aren’t half-delirious with your own pleasure. “Come in your pussy, Stevie.”

“Holy shit—” His cock pulses and twitches and then spits inside you. He grabs onto your hips more roughly than he intended and keeps you tightly pressed against him while he comes, giving you several long and warm ropes against your velvet walls. He whimpers when your pussy flutters around him.

You collapse against him when his orgasm comes and goes, rocking against his lap to get him through his high until he stops you with a firm squeeze to your thigh. You both sink further into the couch, swimming in the peaceful void that pleasure always pushes you into. 

He rubs his hands beneath the skirt of your dress, petting your warm and sticky skin as the after-sex bliss rest heavily upon the both of you.

“Here,” he breaks the satin silence and taps at your hip. “Get off, baby. Let me get you some water or something—”

He feels you shake your head from where you’ve tucked it in his shoulder again. “Don’t wanna move. Want you to stay inside me.”

“Yeah?”

You’ve never done this before — cockwarming. He’s not sure if you have before, but he definitely hasn’t, and certainly not with you. 

Before you, he was the kind of asshole that went to sleep right after sex. The thought of staying inside his partner never crossed his mind. But to his defense, none of his partners thought to do it either. Being King Steve and all meant there wasn’t a lot of cuddling going on after sex. It was usually one-and-done affairs, but he never did this with any of his girlfriends before either.

And now that he’s matured into a somewhat respectable adult, he takes great pride in taking care of you after, in cleaning you up and making sure you’re alright. And when you’re either falling asleep or wanting to shower, there’s no room to be kept inside you. Not until now.

“Wanna fall asleep like this,” you confess. The way you’re halfway slurring and settling more heavily against him tells him you’re not too far off.

“That’s not gonna be comfortable for you, baby,” he scolds softly. Because him — he’s perfect like this. He’s slouched in the plush cushion of the couch and you’re wrapped so tightly around him (in every possible way) you've become his own personal blanket. 

But your back is hunched from where your neck is snug and pressed into his shoulder. You’ll likely wake up aching tomorrow, in more ways than one.

“Don’t care,” you mumble and sprinkle kisses to his neck, just because you can. “Wanna stay like this forever.”

“Forever?” he laughs tiredly.

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You shift on his lap to look at him, exhaling a moan through your nose when you feel him twitch inside of you, even though he’s going steadily soft. Your gaze is innocent and yearning and knowing — hungry again. “Think you can take that, Harrington?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he promises with a sincere twinkle in his cinnamon colored eyes. “I can take it.”

[bluepotion85]

The Golden Ratio - Chapter 3

(The following story contains male weight gain, food play, BDSM, kidnap, encouragement, and feeder/feedee scenarios. If that's not for you, then go to church or something vanilla dude.

This takes place during and after the events of the One-Piece film GOLD. For a better experience see the film on your local streaming service.

This story is written in collaboration with @bee-wg )

-----------------------------------

Tesoro

We see ourselves as special, separated from the world we live in. When the pirates burn a neighboring island, we don't think of it as our problem, not until they come and burn everything here as well. Then we know the truth, we can all experience despair, slavery, or death. 

I have rid myself of the shackles of the world with the one true power, money. Those too weak to change their realities or too stupid to realize these are the rules of the world; are destined to be used by the powerful. 

And the man dangling from my wall right now is no different. While Roronoa, Zoro tries to keep a strong front, he is getting micro-dose with particles of gold that enter his body with every meal. With every day that he stays here, the pirate hunter and swordsman of the straw hats becomes more of my personal plaything. I’ll transform him in every way so everyone can see that he is nothing but mine.

My pheromone fumes in the room are already firing his head, keeping him aroused at every waking moment. Not to mention the golden rod deep within him, it will edge him until his brain is scrambled with the need for release. While they do their job, I’ll get to destroy the body he so tirelessly worked.

“How is my wall trophy doing? Enjoying your alone time?” I said.

“I’ll get that shit-eating grin off your face when I get down off this wall,”

“It's hard to take that threat seriously when you are about to bust a nut,”

He struggles against his restraints, yelling at me for a “proper fight.”

“There have already been enough fights. You haven't gotten any closer to defeating me, pirate hunter. Admit that you can't win against me,”

“I'm the man who will cut through everything, even you,”

“Mmm, maybe your brain is not getting enough food to see the truth. Let's have breakfast then,”

“I’m not hungry,” he replied.

“I wanted to take you out to a popular restaurant, but if you would rather stay in the wall, suits you right,” 

I wave my hand at him, making the golden rod speed up. The vibrations shook him to his core, he then looked at me for a second before answering “Fine, just get this thing off me,”

It was a bit unexpected to see him accept so easily, in any case, he was following the plan.

“Of course,”

I got him off the wall and gave him a set of clean clothes. Once he changed, we went to the garage, where our ride awaited. 

“Why does anyone need so many cars?” he said.

My garage is filled with multiple models of turtle cars.

“It's about the kachow!”

“What?”

I didn't bother explaining my superior taste in cars to him. My limo arrived anyway. We got in and drove through the city.

“And why so many cars if you make someone else drive for you? It's a waste.” he said, pointing at the driver.

Ugh, peasant.

We arrive at The Gold Pearl. The structure is a massive sphere built into the ship. The center of the sphere has a stage where live performers entertain the customers, with tables taking the sides of the structure. The roof is a rendition of Skypiea from the most renowned artist in the new world.

That's only the general admission section of the restaurant, which takes up to two-thirds of the space, leaving the upper third to the VIP section. Inside it, a group of golden droplets hang from the ceiling moving slowly, giving the illusion of waves in the sea. The sides of the sphere in the VIP section are see-through. Add to that the slowly rotating floors, and you have a great panoramic view of the city. Of course, the ungrateful ass didn’t spare a glance.

The waiting time for a table in the VIP area is over a year, or that's the case for everyone else. I made a call and reserved the whole section. Nobody was allowed to interact with Roronoa but me.                                 

“Get seated pirate hunter. The meal is about to begin,” I added.

He reluctantly sat at a table meters away from me. 

“What the matter, afraid I will bite?”

He looked at me with the utmost rage and resentment before standing up, walking to my table, and sitting across from me.

“Hahaha! You are learning after all!”

The waiter arrived handing me the menu. After inspecting it, I say, “Give me the steak with porcini butter and charred onion, and for him, the Sea King treat, white wine as for the two of us.”

“Of course,” said the waitress before leaving.

“What's the Sea King treat?”

“Since we encounter so many Sea Kings through our voyage, we have lots of their meat. It gets distributed across the restaurants at the Gran Tesoro. With each restaurant offering a full run of their best dishes with that meat, they all name it the Sea King treat,”

“I’m not that hungry. It’s too much for me even if I was,”

“There is no such thing as too much here,”

“I won't eat that much,”

“Once you try it, you will see it differently, one taste and you won't be able to put your fork down,”

“If it's like the rest of the food here, I doubt that,”

We wait for a while and the waiiter came with our drinks. She set both glasses on the table and before she could pour the drinks, Roronoa snap the bottle of wine off her hands. 

With his teeth he remove the cork from the bottle and took big gulps of the wine. The waiter looked with wide eyes as he downed the bottle in front of her. I laughed and asked her to bring more alcohol for the both of us. At least now I know of something he is weak to.

Our food arrived after the third bottle of wine went down Roronoa’s throat. The waiter placed plate after plate of meat at our table.

Roronoa looked puzzled at me before he asked, “You can't possibly expect me to eat all this?!” 

“Bon appetit,” I said.

We started to eat and by the end of his first plate, he looked ready to finish. So I moved my hands and manipulated the gold inside him to my will. Expanding the walls in his stomach, his expression changed as he felt the sudden void inside of him.

“Still hungry? Why not take another cut of meat, there is plenty,”

Before he could reply his stomach rumbled loudly. He evaded my eyes as he took another plate of food. He ate it faster than the last one, and again before he was finished I expanded his stomach capacity. He holds his stomach with a tormented look before taking another plate. Yes, pirate hunter, enjoy the meat, fill your guts to your heart's content, because I will make sure you only leave this place stuffed to the brim!

Zoro

What's going on with this food?

It's been an hour since we got here and no matter how many plates of food I eat, I don't seem to feel satisfied. 

The cuts of meat are savory, rich with grease, and saturated with sauce. They are so tender they melt in my mouth like cotton candy. Maybe that's why they don't fill me. They're all taste and have no substance. 

I finished my third plate with a burp, looking at Tesoro who finished his food. He looks pleased from his meal but that miserable grin of his gave me the creeps.

“Why don't you try the duck a l'orange, It's one of my favorites,” he said, extending me the plate.

I'm about to reject it when my insides churn, a belch comes up from deep within me and my stomach rumbles all over again. The smell of the duck mixed with my appetite makes me swallow my pride. I take the dish and get to work on ripping pieces of flesh and bringing them to my mouth. 

Not a day ago I was making an effort not to eat from this psycho, but my stomach roared like a wild tiger for sustenance. Also, if they wanted to poison me with something the damage is done. 

I pick the bottle of wine and down it in a few gulps, at least this is good. Some good booze is just what I needed to withstand this mess. Once the bottle is empty I ask the waiiter for more and I bring close a plate with sea king brochettes.

My attention is drawn in double-fist them, only stopping to breathe. All concerns besides filling my stomach are now out the window. Sushi, salad, meat, everything passes through my lips with a storm of grunts and burps filling the silence of the room. 

I took one last bite of churrasco when I felt the wave of fullness hit me. As if my brain suddenly realized I was stuffed beyond belief. I lowered my eyes and found my stomach tight and distended, strained against my clothes.

“What the-?”

“See, once you have one bite, you can't have enough of them,” he said. 

He stood from his seat and started to walk towards the exit.

“Come on, we wasted enough time here,”

“Give me a minute. I can barely breathe.”

“It's not my fault you made a pig of yourself. Unless you want someone else catching you like this, I suggest you get going,” he replied beside my ear.

Selfish prick, he is the one that orders enough food to feed an army. It's not my fault they were so light, except for that last dish. Trying to stand up I managed to see the rest of my body with more attention, grease, sauce, and pieces of food were scattered over my clothes. Fuck- I did let myself go. At least whatever got into me here won't happen again.

I accepted Tesoro’s invitation to get out of the room and its awful smell. But if that means eating like a pig for over an hour I’ll stay at his office. I'm already messing up my training schedule, I don't want to add fatass to my list of problems.

“What do you say? Do you want to do the same for dinner? I know you loved it.”

“I would rather die.”

The probe made itself known, vibrating deep inside me. It must have stayed there even after Tesoro got me off the wall. But after twenty four hours of it inside me, I must have gotten used to it. Now back to shaking my inside, I try to keep myself together.

“Fine, I will, just make it stop,”

“I don't know what you mean, but I'm sure you made the right choice,”

While we made our way back to the office, I could only nurse my complaining stomach and wonder if the walk to the Limo would offset the meal I just had.

We got into the car and drove back to Tesoro´s main building. When he opens the door, we are met by a pitch-black room,”

I thought we were going to this office. Where are we? 

“Don't lag, you don't want to get lost, do you?” he said.

“I can make my way back without your help.” 

With a sigh, I walk into the room. The door closes behind me, and I catch up to him. He snaps his fingers, and the space is illuminated, revealing a long white corridor. A tiny door on the wall opened with a Lemur coming out of it. His big, colorful eyes focused on Tesoro before he said, “Project Scenario 1.” 

The creature quickly got back into the hole, we waited for a few seconds. Then the white walls of the corridor changed into a rainbow of twirling colors. 

“What is this place?”

“It's a Lounge,"

“That answers nothing.”

The walls of the corridor start to change, now showing a deep cave. The image is so clear I would believe we teleported. I even stretched my arm to where the wall should be to make sure it was still there.

Tesoro continued to walk through the now cave-like corridor, and I followed his steps. 

“There are cast lemurs behind the walls. In the wild, they can project images from their eyes to scare predators. Here, they are great for making this augmented reality experience,” he said.

We continued to walk. The corridor changed into views of Fishman Island, Skypiea, Dressrosa, The Goa Kingdom, Alabasta, and even a land made of sweets.

“A candy land? They are imaginative,” I mumbled.

“Oh, all these places are real. We took the lemurs to memorize the landscapes and use them here,” he replied.

“To the candy land? You can't expect me to believe that.”

“It's Whole Cake Island. What? Would you like to go there even after that meal?” he said mockingly.

“Of course not! It's hard to believe something like that exists, more people would talk about it,”

“It’s the territory of Big Mom, no pirate in their right mind would go there. Don't blame me for your ignorance pirate hunter,”

I was about to try and strangle him when he suddenly stopped walking, and I crashed into his massive back.

“Oi, Why did you stop?”

“We are here. I told you this is a Lounge,"

He moved to the side and revealed a circular room. The walls looked like a night sky filled with stars. Inside, a group of beanbags filled the room. 

Tesoro sat in one of the beanbags at the center of the room, and I followed suit, knowing he wouldn't let me sit anywhere else. 

“Why are we in a Lounge anyway?”

“Just Shut up and enjoy it,” he said, closing his eyes and laying back against the bean bag.

I look into the different projections, trying to relax, but my stuffed stomach keeps groaning in pain. While I clutched it, Tesoro looked at me and said, “The bean bags have a massage setting. There is one mode that could ease your belly,”

“I do not have a belly! I'm just bloated from all that trashy food you pushed on me,”

“If it was so bad, why did you eat it all? I didn't tell you to do it. That was all you,”

“I-”

He cut me up and said, “Do you want the message or not? I wanted to come here and relax, not hearing your gut groan the entire day,”

The idea of the chair starting to massage me like the table brought mixed thoughts. I don't want to give Tesoro more opportunities to mess with me, not to mention If it starts going inside of me like the table I will die. But anything that could help me with the pain is worth trying.

“Fine,” I replied.

The beanbag sprouts two arms from its sides and starts massaging my shoulders. The gold bastard’s beanbag also starts massaging him, and I calm down for a second. The arms move to my chest and neck, the tension from the day leaving me slowly. Finally going to my stomach, they make circles over it, applying pressure now and then. I would burp occasionally, releasing some space, and before long the pain had subsided. 

They continue like this for a while, the feeling soothing alongside the images of the walls. I started to feel drowsy when images of Whole Cake Island started to show again. I could almost swear the smell of the sweets was real.

“Hey, wake up. I didn't bring you here to sleep all day,” said the golden jackass slapping in the face.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

That's when I noticed the smell of all kinds of food filling the atmosphere. The room now looks like a jungle of food, with donuts sprouting from trees and spaghetti waterfalls.

“So, is this place also real?”

“Yes, the Boin Archipelago has a series of islands that flourish food from their plants,”

“I owe an apology to Usopp. I thought this was another one of his lies,”

He looked at me with curiosity, and I added, “A crewmate said he went there, but he is the king of lying, so nobody believed him,”

His laugh thundered around the room “Not that many people go there and come out to tell the tale, he managed to do it and nobody believes him? That's just perfect” he said.

“Enough off time. You had your rest,” he added.

“Wait, can't we stay for longer?” I asked, not wanting to go back to the wall. 

“You are the one who fell asleep. Next time, try to enjoy the few seconds you have off the wall with your eyes open,” he said before walking towards the exit.

After fighting to get up from the cursed beanbag, I caught up to him. The corridor keeps playing images of the Boin islands with their respective scent. I guess the room also produces artificial smells to match the images. 

My stomach roars out of a sudden, and Tesoro looks back at me with a sinister grin.

“Hungry already, Roronoa?” he said.

How am I hungry? When I fell asleep, I was still so full I felt like a stuffed turkey. How long did I sleep?

“You are in luck, food is almost ready, and we can have an early dinner,” he added.

While I think of rejecting the offer, the images of the food and the enticing aroma make my mouth water. 

“Just this one time,” I say reluctantly.

<< First Chapter / <Previous Chapter /

[kuro8566]

Made a little au, now I have talked about this au before but a lot has changed about the look of the turtles

Now these are not all the turtles (cause it's only leo and raph) and is not a full rendition of them but it's to get the idea on where I am wanting to go with this story

At a later date there will be a post about more on the story of the au as well as more character sheets with info (I need to do 15 more character sheets) so stay toon for that!

And I'd you have any questions about this au please ask away, I will be happy to answer!!!!

[overexciteddragon]

I don't know if this still works this way or if anyone uses the search bar like this anymore, BUT FYI: I'm a proshipper, big fucking tcest lover (OT4 my beloved but I'm also just Leotello, Raphanardo, Mitello, Raphatello, Raphangelo, Mikenardo, etc etc give me turtle loving or give me death), also Apritello asf (Donnie booba enjoyer). I'm into Rise, 2012, Bayverse, 07, Batman vs TMNT, and currently watching 03! I love all toitles, no hate on any rendition here... so if you wanna follow, pss pss!

[annonniiiiieeeee]

So I’m about to read the new fanfic, right? When my brain just decided to pop this out..

So I’m assuming that Leo starts wearing clothes  when he is in Usagi’s world. So I think it would be kind of weird for five months to wear clothes and see other people like him wear clothes, then all of a sudden him and his brothers are just naked. 

Anyway, would Leo start wearing actual pants around the layer instead of his booty shorts?

I think with any other rendition of the turtles the answer would be yes.

But the rise boys are shown wearing clothes quite often. Not just the hoodies they wear to blend in, but they have pajamas. They wear suits to the Houdini exhibit. Like they have regular out fits.

They also have the hidden city and the yokai that fill it. They see people like them wear clothes all the time.

Which means that they make the conscious choice to run around the city in what equivalents booty shorts, long socks, long gloves with no shirts. They have options and they have made this choice. Which is funnier? One of them suddenly going ‘you know we can wear clothes.” Or it being an option the whole time and them all collectively saying “ya nope.”

[tmnt-tychou]

What’s your opinion on 2012 Mona Lisa since you made a version of her before the safe arc abc I wanted to know what you think of the show her

I'm going to try to be delicate with this as I know there are fans of this series and of this Mona Lisa. As a fan, I respect all my fellow TMNT fans and their favorite shows, favorite characters, and favorite versions of those characters. I believe all of us are allowed our favorites and our least favorites, and even if those might not align with each other, we can all still enjoy turtles together.

These are my personal thoughts and I absolutely do not mind if you disagree, nor will I think any less of anyone with a different opinion.

I usually refer to Y'Gythgba as "Space Mona Lisa." Though I feel like she is Mona Lisa in name only. I remember when they first announced they were going to put Mona Lisa in the show. (I had already designed my own 2012 Mona Lisa by then.) I was very excited.

When she made her first appearance, I was...okay with it. I like Y'Gythgba, but I didn't feel she embodied the soul of the original character. At least not for me. Certainly not like how the IDW Mona Lisa does. I don't know why they had to call her Mona Lisa. They could have left her as Y'Gythgba.

As far as her and Raph are concerned...I have been told she is supposed to be 16 in the show. But she is coded as an adult. She seems to be a high-ranking military officer. (As best as I can remember? I haven't seen the show since it aired.) And Raphael is very much coded as a child. These kids look 13 to my adult eyes. So I get a little weirded out at the pairing. But I got weirded out at a lot of stuff in this show. So it could be just me.

On the other hand, though, look at this hug. This is SUCH a great hug. This hug gives me life. It sends me. So...I dunno.

When I think of Mona Lisa, this is not the version that comes to mind for me. But this is the Mona Lisa many fans were introduced to and they love her. They base future renditions of Mona Lisa off of her. And that's fine. If she's the version that get people talking about her, get fans looking into other versions of her, then how can I complain about that?

For me, she doesn't interest me in the way the other versions do, so I leave her in the hands of those that love her. They have their favorite Mona Lisa and I have mine.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: Secret of the Ooze (1991)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

To a certain extent, children who are fans of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles will be happy to see ANY rendition of their favorite characters but a part of their subconscious will realize Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: Secret of the Ooze is an inferior sequel. It’s less violent and more kid-friendly, which means uppity parents will be pleased. Well, being pleased is a stretch. The quality of the writing ensures no one will be satisfied.

In New York City, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - Leonardo (voiced by Brian Tochi), Donatello (voiced by Adam Carl), Michelangelo (voiced by Robbie Rist), and Raphael (voiced by Laurie Faso) - are searching for a new home with the help of news reporter April O’Neil (Paige Turco this time) while their sensei, Master Splinter (Kevin Clash), begs them to remain hidden. When The Shredder (played by François Chau, voiced by David McCharen) returns, he forces Professor Jordan Perry (David Warner) to use the same ooze that created the turtles on a pair of ferocious animals: the first members of his mutant army.

Right away, it’s a disappointment to see April O’Neil recast and the absence of Elias Koteas as Casey Jones - the character doesn't even get mentioned. Also frustrating is the new kid sidekick who hangs out with the turtles: a pizza delivery boy and martial arts expert named Keno (Ernie Reyes Jr.). Our heroes already have a human friend. Why do they need another?

The most striking difference from the first picture is the overall tone of The Secret of the Ooze. The first movie might not have been fantastic - the four adolescent reptiles were basically interchangeable, the villains bland, there’s a long stretch in the middle where they retreat to a cabin in the countryside that’s as dull as a normal turtle practicing karate - but at least it had ambition. The movie wanted to be awesome. It wanted you to take the action and the premise seriously. It knew kids watching wanted the movie to be what they imagined it would be: a “grown-up” version of what they saw on TV. Director Michael Pressman doesn't even try. The jokes are so bad, so juvenile you'll want to crawl inside your shell and die of embarrassment. The gags make the villains complete non-threats, which robs the plot of any tension. TMNT II is a perfect example of the conservation of ninjutsu rule: the more ninjas on-screen, the less effective they are.

The most baffling aspect of this film is the titular "secret". There comes a point when our heroes get their hands on a canister of the green liquid (whose technical name is apparently “ooze”) and are crushed when they learn their inception was an accident. Well of course it was! You were raised in a sewer! By a rat! You spend your time hiding in the shadows! Did you think you were anything BUT a mistake of creation?!

Oh right. The animal monsters that supposedly pose a threat. They don’t. In another example of bad writing, the creatures - Tokka and Rahzar (not Beebop and Rocksteady, which means another disappointment for the fans) - are initially rejected by The Shredder. He doesn’t think they’re intelligent enough because he expected them to emerge not only super-strong and ferocious but also with genius-level intelligence despite being alive for less than a day. Oh, and then we get ANOTHER explanation for their stupidity: seems Professor Perry tampered with the mutagen to ensure they would be intellectual nincompoops. Because one reason wasn’t enough?

To throw some compliments in its direction, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II once again features impressive costumes/special effects and decent fight choreography considering the restrictions the performers were under. It has the occasional funny gag and if you wanted a less violent movie, you got it. Will this outweigh the horror of an impromptu rap number by Vanilla Ice? I’ll let you decide.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze is a major letdown. It also fails to give fans of the characters what they want and suffers from a major lack of ambition. This plot is so basic you’ll be bored. Well, when you’re not groaning at the deluge of corny gags. (January 1, 2021)

[button-man-herald]

Dev Diary #1; Africville Research

Last week, Ron, Sam and I (Jordan) went to the Africville Museum as part of our week long survey of Halifax for visual inspirations and to get some historical context straight. It was a somewhat dreary day; gray skies and windy bluster, but the replica church in which the museum is held was warm and inviting.

Although Button Man takes place in a fictional city called "Kingsport", it is heavily influenced by and in places, replicating, Halifax. For instance, the Halifax Explosion is called "The Great Explosion" in our game, and it's influence on the socio-economic character of the city is inspired by the reality of that event. However, the geography of the city, the layout of streets, the mayors, the companies etc are a mixture of reality and fiction.

This is all fine and in the spirit of inspired creative license, but if not careful, this flexible use of fiction could lead to very real erasure of significant communities in the area. The story of Halifax is inexorably tied to Africville, Turtle Cove, George's Island, and McNabs Island, among others. We are not the creators, nor is this the correct project, for exploring the seriousness of the violence, discrimination, imprisonment, or betrayal of the people in those places, but we can be better citizens by staying informed of the real stories that shaped our community. We might not be the right people to tell a story that seriously and deeply engages with this material, but we can do some justice to those communities by representing them in our game.

Avoiding plot spoilers, there are a handful of important figures in the plot of Button Man who come from our analogue community to Africville. Their motivations, although held at arms length from our protagonist, can be understood to be in defence and service of their at-risk home. The grimy interplay of politics and big money are prominent in our rendition of the story, whereas in real life the issue was clothed in the language of social justice, despite the "solution" providing anything but.

After a few minutes of looking over the modest displays, chronicling the history of the since-bulldozed community, we were joined by the museum's Executive Director, Juanita Peters. We sat down to a wonderful conversation about personal origins and community, when the reason for our visit, as research for our video game, came up. Juanita lit up and asked us to check out the museum's own educational board game, then asked us if we would consider looking over the game and providing the museum with a quote for converting the board game to digital format.

Just a note about Juanita; she was a joy to speak with. She is clearly a wealth of information and stories, and was more than happy to impart some wisdom from her ~40 year career in film and television with three dudes making a video game. We asked her how she got the position as Executive Director, and despite her somewhat coy suggestion that it was largely circumstance, it was clear that her deep, motivating love for her community, sharing their stories, and immortalizing the lessons of Africville's destruction are why she became the Executive Director.

Given that my background in gaming is specifically from tabletop board games, I am very excited to dive in. I believe strongly in the idea that games are every bit as academic, artistic, and commercial as movies or television, but the opportunity to work on a game that also feels like a genuine contribution to your community is a bit rare. Such a project lacks any of the cynicism that so easily worms its way into just about any gaming endeavor, no matter how removed from the world of lootbox and crypto scams.

Today I opened the education kit and have started analysing the pieces-- but unfortunately they forgot the instructions! Oh well. Tomorrow I'll pick it up and take a look into what this project may take. Its not a given, but I'm certainly excited to get started. (Images were taken a few days after, so the weather was much more cooperative!)

What a beautiful park!

[monarch-afterdark]

Superspecies History: The Maritime's Bestiary

Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.

Here we are, the end of the road for our Skull Island fauna coverage...kind of. While there are quite a handful of other superspecies we are yet to talk about, we do not yet have access to their profiles, and as such we can't really talk about them. Once we can, however, we will be returning to Skull Island.

For now at least, let us end the coverage with another round-up of creatures known to Monarch, but do not have enough information known about them to warrant giving them individual entries. You may remember we did something similar a while back for the remaining Titans awakened in 2019, and this entry will be similar in presentation, but for the superspecies encountered by survivors of the cryptid-hunting vessel Once Upon a Maritime in 1993.

(Pictured above: Artwork drawn by a younger Annie, depicting herself and her animal familiar "Dog" battling a scorpion-like creature)

Now, given that these events transpired prior to the 1995 expedition to Skull Island, and thus prior to any Monarch presence on the island, all we have on the following creatures are the testimonies of those who had encountered them firsthand. With that said, let us dive in.

----

"Dog"

(Pictured above: Artistic depiction of "Dog" and Annie together)

The nickname given to a large, canine-like superspecies, "Dog" was first met by Annie as a pup after their fathers had killed each other. Developing a strong bond, they would spend the next 10 years together on an island Annie named after herself, battling monsters. The two would wind up on Skull Island together whilst escaping mercenaries hired by Annie's mother.

Dog's current status is unknown, as he and Annie were separated following Kong's killing of the Skull Island Kraken, and Annie being taken to the mainland by her mother. Monarch's attempts at getting much information out of Annie were made more difficult by her constant demands to be reunited with the animal.

-----

Trapdoor Crab

(Pictured above: Artistic rendition of a Trapdoor Crab, by Monarch cryptoartist Jung-Ha Kim)

Trapdoor Crabs are beach-dwelling ambush predators that lurk beneath the sands on Skull Island's coasts. A group of Trapdoor Crabs attempted to kill Once Upon a Maritime crew members Charlie and Mike once they'd washed ashore on Skull Island, but the duo were rescued by Annie. More would attack the trio later, but the sounds of Kong's roar scared them off.

-----

Rock Bug

(Pictured above: Artist sketches of a Rock Bug, by Jung-Ha Kim)

Rock Bugs were insectoid monsters capable of curling their bodies to disguise as simple rocks. Even as babies, their bodies are highly durable. Their underbellies are composed of similar material to a diamond, mesmerizing potential prey or predators.

Rock Bugs were apparently first encountered by Charlie's father, and captain of the Once Upon a Maritime, Cap. Charlie himself had accidentally thrown a baby Rock Bug into a swarm of Trapdoor Crabs, and according to Annie, Kong threw a Rock Bug at the Kraken during their battle.

-----

Aloe Turtle

(Pictured above: Artist's rendition of an Aloe Turtle)

A related subspecies to the Magma Turtle, the Aloe Turtle is a florafauna reptilian with aloe leaves growing on its back in place of the conventional shell turtles have. Their leaves secrete a gel that can be used to treat venom-related injuries.

A lone Aloe Turtle was spotted by Cap and Irene, Annie's mother, whilst they were getting acquainted. Irene later used one of the aloe leaves from the species to treat a venomous wound Mike had sustained during the Kraken's attack on the Once Upon a Maritime.

-----

Hawk Monster

(Pictured above: Artistic depiction of the Hawk Monster resting on Kong's arm)

A large red avian creature, the Hawk Monster was apparently a beast companion for Kong during his time on the island. According to later analysis of a temple-like structure high on Skull Island's mountains, Kong seemed to have met the Hawk Monster during the 1980's.

While the Hawk Monster is presumed dead by Monarch as of 2021, as it had not been seen with Kong during Monarch's time on the island, it had been spotted in 1993 menacing Irene's team, and had brought Charlie and Dog to Kong's temple, presumably as food.

-----

Croc Monster

(Pictured above: Artistic depiction of the Croc Monster)

Unlike the Sirenjaw, the Croc Monster was a more traditional-looking crocodilian superspecies, keeping the core traits associated with modern crocodilian species. This creature was capable of both quadrupedal and bipedal movement.

A Croc Monster had menaced Charlie and Mike briefly after killing one of Irene's mercenaries. Charlie recalled the pair diving off a waterfall to evade the beast, only for the Croc Monster to dive down after them. It was grabbed from the water and eaten by Kong before it could attack the boys further.

-----

Giant Dodo

(Pictured above: Artistic rendition of the Giant Dodo)

The Giant Dodo...is a rather self-explanatory animal to explain. The name really speaks for itself here.

A Giant Dodo briefly menaced Charlie and Mike before it was swiftly killed by Dog. The boys realised that Annie had used them as bait to kill the creature, and the group roasted the Giant Dodo over a fire with the intent to eat it.

-----

Giant Ant

(Pictured above: Artistic rendition of the Giant Ant)

A large insectoid species that dwelled in underground pits on Skull Island, connected by a series of tunnels. They had durable exoskeletons, and may have been prone to cannibalising on deceased Giant Ants. It is unknown whether or not the Giant Ants may be a caste of Snarehunter, due to the limited information at hand.

One attacked Charlie, Mike and Annie in a pit after dragging off the carcass of one of its own. When an ancient sword Charlie uncovered shattered against it, Annie played dead in front of the Giant Ant to attract Dog, who chased it off.

-----

Jovian Flytrap

(Pictured above: Artistic depiction of a Venus Fly Trap Creature)

Another example of "faunaflora" (a reverse instance of florafauna where plants take on animalistic traits), the Jovian Flytrap seemed to be the Skull Island equivalent of carnivorous plants known to the surface world. This creature was referred to initially as just a "Venus Fly Trap Creature", but a search through the Skull Island database found the creature already catalogued as the Jovian Flytrap.

Irene, Cap, and mercenary Sam encountered a group of Jovian Flytraps, one of which attempted to eat Irene while she had her back turned to it. The creature was killed in the effort to free Irene, who later found it ironic that she, as a botanist, was almost killed by a plant.

-----

Nightboy

(Pictured above: Artistic rendition of the Nightboys, by Jung-Ha Kim)

Nightboys were pale-skinned, demonic creatures that would collectively hide around bare trees, turning them into spined formations. They were highly aggressive to anyone who disturbed the group, but could be fended off by an inexperienced teen with a club, and thus aren't quite as deadly as other fauna on the island.

Charlie recalled accidentally startling a group of Nightboys attempting to ignite a tree to get the attention of Irene's party. This brought the attention of Irene's mercenaries and Annie, who reunited with Dog as the mercs gunned down the creatures.

-----

And that's all she wrote for the Maritime's bestiary! Or, at the very least, that's all in terms of what we were actually told by those who were involved with the 1993 incident. Refusal to co-operate with Monarch, the unreliability of human memory and lack of enough time to explain them all played a part in the limited selection and information we have presented here.

Still, a shoutout is due to Monarch's talented crew of artists who were able to bring mere word-of-mouth descriptions to life as fantastic and terrifying creatures.

Until next time,

Monarch: After Dark

[malaysiankpopfans]

The Neon Dreams New Year

The Neon Dreams New Year's Eve countdown concert, organized by Sheng Tai International and promoted by Casa Entertainment Group, took place grandly at The Sail Melaka in Malacca on December 31st, 2023.

Local artist Gaston Pong kicked off the event, delivering several popular songs to warm up the atmosphere and set the perfect tone for the New Year's concert. It was a flawless opening.

Following Gaston Pong was Suki Low, who performed "Berdiri" and showcased “Cai Zhuang”.

Malaysia's young pop sensation, Shila Amzah, used "Survivor" to ignite the crowd and moved everyone with a rendition of Wang Leehom's classic "Forever Love."

Next up was Junny, a Korean R&B singer-songwriter, whose appearance drew continuous cheers from the audience. During his performance of the hit song "Invitation," the crowd joined in singing along. Junny also presented his new song "Promise" and sang a total of nine songs, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of a personal concert. Junny expressed his happiness to be in Malaysia to countdown the New Year with everyone.

Following Junny was Aina Abdul, who recently held her own solo concert. With her captivating stage presence, she not only sang her own songs but also performed Jessie J's "Ain’t Nobody," providing the audience with a diverse musical experience.

Taking the stage just before the countdown was Zico, a top Korean rapper. As soon as he appeared, he shocked the entire venue with the audience dancing along to his rhythm. In addition to performing the classic "Any Song," he also presented the catchy "Okey Dokey," prompting fans to chant for an encore. Zico descended from the stage to interact closely with fans, further intensifying the atmosphere.

The fireworks show at the concert lasted for 10 minutes, marking the beginning of 2024. Finally, 18-year-old Belle Sisoski took the stage as the finale, showcasing her skills with multiple instruments and incorporating EDM elements. Once again, she elevated the concert to its peak, bringing a perfect conclusion to the Neon Dreams New Year's Eve countdown concert.

The Neon Dreams concert series falls under the "Arts & Culture" initiative introduced by Dato' Leong Sir Ley, Founder, Chairman and CEO of Sheng Tai International. It is one of four main initiatives she has launched to drive the creation and development of City of Hope, envisioned to be an economic game changer for Melaka.

Dato' Leong said, “We are proud to support vibrant cultural events in Melaka like Neon Dreams under our Arts & Culture initiative. This New Year’s Eve concert brought great energy and visitors to the city, kicking off an exciting year." Her vision is to make Malacca an international city as well as a global hub for business in Southeast Asia.

More Neon Dreams events are slated for 2024, including a potential K-Pop music festival in March and many more themed concerts throughout the year. With major concerts like this driving tourism, Melaka’s entertainment scene looks bright for the coming year as Dato' Leong executes her vision.

Full Song List

Gaston Pong

i luv you, just kidding- Gaston Pong

Ring Ring Ring - Gaston Pong

Whatcha Name? - Gaston Pong

Rumah Singgah - Fabio Asher

Birthday Cake - Gaston Pong

SEVEN – Jungkook

Suki Low

Berdiri - Suki Low

Cai Zhuang - Suki Low

You Are My Everything - Gummy

Dance The Night - Dua Lipa

Kenangan Terindah - Samsons

Shila Amzah

Survivor - Destiny’s Child

Standing Next To You -Jungkook

Patah Seribu - Shila Amzah

Xiang NiDe Ye - Grady Guan

Forever Love - Wang Lee Hom

Junny

Color Me

Not About You

Aura

Invitation

Optimist

By my side

Movie

Promise

Thank You

Aina Abdul

Terus Hidup - Aina Abdul

Jangan Mati Rasa Itu - Aina Abdul

Sial - Mahalini

Shadow - Spuds & Aina Abdul

Ain’t Nobody - Jessie J

Zico

Tough Cookie

Artist

Any Song

Turtle Ship

OkeyDokey

Boys and Girls

Belle Sisoski

Focus

Believer

Pirates

Hold On

Unholy

Fingers

Adagio for Strings

Carol of The Bells

[rpgse7en]

Super Mario Brothers, Research concluded by RPG-7.

Super Mario Brothers has cemented itself as a historical record-breaking and very very iconic video game; though its unique ability to represent certain items in the game itself is what makes it that much more well known.

Super Mario Brothers includes a numerable list of differing power-ups, that enable Mario himself to undertake different abilities;

Some of them inhibited health, some of them gave him varying motive abilities and some bringing Mario to insurmountable sizes.

On the contrary, there are existing "power-downs" (for a lack of a better term) that control Mario in a more negative way; for example, when Mario interacts with an enemy while in Super or Fiery form.

A good few examples transformations are also included in the first rendition of Super Mario Brothers:

Mario, as himself in a normal form

Super Mario

Fiery Mario

Invincible Mario

Additionally represented in the game is the countless obstacles that you can encounter:

Them being:

Bloobers, of which come in a squid-like appearance that persistently pursues the player.

Bullet Bill, of which come in a bullet-like appearance that originate from turtle cannons; and the only time they can be eliminated is to stomp or hit them under the influence of a Star Man.

Buzzy Beetle, small turtles that hide within their shells when jumped on; similar to Koopa Troopas, but different as in they are immune to fireballs. They will also replace Little Goombas in Hard Mode.

Cheep-Cheeps, red or gray fish that are found swimming in water; and the gray ones are known to be a little slower, and within levels 2-3 the red ones will leap at Mario in attempt to hit either Mario or Luigi.

Fire Bars, glowing red interconnected fireballs that swing back and forth; lengths vary.

Hammer Brothers, of which come in pairs are both green with green helmets; throwing endless amounts of hammers at Mario and at some intervals jump.

Koopa Paratroopas, of which are similar to their Koopa counterparts; with the difference being that they take flight using their wings.

Koopa Troopas, soldiers of the Turtle Empire that marches forwards; retreats in its shell if interfered and can be aimed and kicked at any other enemies in order to gain points. Red ones turn around at pits, and green ones do not.

Lakitus, the same as Koopas with the exception of its ability to throw Spiny's eggs towards Mario.

Little Goombas, most common to see and are the weakest in the game; can be stomped on or hit with a Star Man or fireballs.

And many more, that continues along Nintendo's ever-expanding series of Mario games under its franchise...

Selling 40 million copies (the original Super Mario Bros.), and becoming a brand bonafide with merchandise and animations under its tusks; Super Mario Bros. cements itself as one of the few games that struck a proper revolution into the world of games design, and retail/commercial branding.

RPG-7

[happy-paintings]

Exploring the World of Painted Jellyfish, Colored Cow Paintings, and Sea Turtle Masterpieces

Are you ready to embark on a mesmerizing journey through the vibrant and captivating world of art? At Happy-Paintings.com, we invite you to explore a stunning collection that features the enchanting Painted Jellyfish, whimsical Colored Cow Paintings, and the graceful allure of Sea Turtle Paintings. Each piece is a masterpiece in its own right, created with passion and precision by our talented artists.

Painted Jellyfish: Graceful and Ethereal

If you're looking for art that embodies the serene beauty of the underwater world, our Painted Jellyfish collection is sure to enthrall you. Jellyfish, with their translucent bodies and trailing tentacles, have an otherworldly charm that has inspired artists for centuries. Our artists have skillfully captured the essence of these creatures, bringing their delicate movements and ethereal beauty to life on canvas.

Incorporating a palette of soothing blues, purples, and iridescent tones, our Painted Jellyfish collection is a visual feast for anyone who appreciates the mysteries of the ocean. Whether you're a marine enthusiast or simply looking for a piece that exudes tranquility, these artworks will leave you mesmerized.

Colored Cow Paintings: Whimsical and Playful

For those who seek art with a touch of whimsy and a dash of rural charm, our Colored Cow Paintings are a delightful choice. These bovine-inspired masterpieces infuse a sense of playfulness and nostalgia into any space. From vibrant, pop-art renditions to more traditional depictions, our artists have reimagined the beloved cow in a myriad of captivating ways.

Whether you're an admirer of rural landscapes or simply drawn to the endearing nature of these creatures, our Colored Cow Paintings offer a diverse selection to suit your taste. Add a touch of countryside allure to your home or office with these charming artworks that celebrate the charm of farm life.

Sea Turtle Paintings: Majestic and Timeless

The ocean's gentle giants, sea turtles, have long been symbols of grace and wisdom. Our Sea Turtle Paintings pay tribute to these magnificent creatures, capturing their timeless beauty and the sense of wonder they inspire. These artworks transport you to the serene world beneath the waves, where these ancient mariners glide effortlessly through azure waters.

Using a rich and varied color palette, our artists bring the intricate details of sea turtles to life. Whether you prefer a realistic portrayal or a more abstract interpretation, our Sea Turtle Paintings offer a range of options that celebrate the enduring allure of these oceanic icons.

Why Choose Happy-Paintings.com?

At Happy-Paintings.com, we take pride in curating a diverse collection of art that appeals to a wide range of tastes and preferences. Our Painted Jellyfish, Colored Cow Paintings, and Sea Turtle Paintings are crafted with meticulous attention to detail, ensuring that each piece is a true work of art.

We understand that art is a deeply personal choice, and that's why we offer a variety of styles, sizes, and framing options to suit your individual needs. Whether you're looking to adorn your living room with a stunning centerpiece or seeking a unique gift for a loved one, our collection has something for everyone.

In conclusion, our collection of Painted Jellyfish, Colored Cow Paintings, and Sea Turtle Paintings is a testament to the diverse beauty that art can bring into our lives. These exquisite pieces not only showcase the talent of our artists but also provide a gateway to explore the enchanting worlds of the ocean, countryside, and beyond. Visit Happy-Paintings.com today and discover the perfect artwork to adorn your space with beauty, charm, and inspiration.

View More Blog : Get the Best Deal on Funny and Sea Turtle Paintings at the Best Price

[pierreism]

This should be terribly sad. What would on any other day be sacred ground - this monastery that birthed century defining masterpieces - is exposed to the bones for commercial re-consumption, like some whale display in a museum. What once was a hidden kingdom is now nothing more than prime real estate; the halcyon days of high art have evaporated in the sterile light of Zillow listing photography. The air of 'greatness' has vacated the premises. One parting irony: the video package is soundtracked to innocuous, elevator muzak renditions of Follies.

The notoriously reclusive Sondheim spent decades here secreted away, safe from prying eyes. But now we can hyperfixate on every lived-in detail of his home life. Shall we look? Let's look. Ooh is that a vintage board game from the 1800s hanging over the mantle? Was he really using his 1991 'Best Song' Oscar as a doorstop!? cc: Madonna. He has an entire bookshelf dedicated to himself? Slay. Benoit Blanc's terrace was ~totally~ inspired by Sondheim's patio. Giant Elizabeth Taylor detail in the entertainment room? Smart. I bet one of those bookcases hides the secret passageway to his se-[REDACTED]

[annonniiiiieeeee]

HOW EXCITED ARE YOU FOR MUTANT MAYHEM??? THE TRAILER COMES OUT TOMORROW IM SO /SRS RN I CANT WAIT

I watched and I think that the animation is very cute. My biggest grip with any TMNT media is when the turtles look identical. It’s hard for me to keep track of them sometimes in background scene, especially if their are animation error (wrong mask colors etc)

They have done a great job at making the boys look similar but not identical. The voice acting is super cute.

I know we have a habit of hating things before it comes out but I’m excited to see what they do. The kids have got a lot of Gen-Z energy and I’m here for that.

Honestly I grew up as a scooby doo kid. I have watched almost every adaptation at least in some capacity. What I have learned. People will grip about anything that changes from their favorite version. Most of the time the new rendition is great.

Now every now and then you get an absolute dud (looking at you Velma) but for the most part new takes mean new lore and new fans to get excited about the characters. And new fans will go back and watch the older shows.

I would never have watched 2003 TMNT if I didn’t fall in love with rise first.

All this to say. I’m very excited to see what they do.

[idlechatting]

42. Aries. Isfp-T

Character’s full name: Tudor Marion Alex

Reason or meaning of name: (Alex) Defender of Humankind/ (Marion) Star of the sea; Beloved 

Birth date: March 25, 1980

Good personality traits: Passionate, Empathetic, Artistic

Bad personality traits: Low Self-Esteem, Anxious, Independent 

Character’s soft spot: Dennis, Jasmit, Ines. Musician Nils Frahm. Classical renditions.

Height: 6`0

Hometown: AMS

Current location: MD

Mother: Mariana Tudor (Deceased) Relationship with her: Permissive 

Father: Virgil Tudor Relationship with him: Authoritarian

Type of childhood: Unpredictable. Nurturing. Estranged.

First memory: Alex was 22 traveling with the Julliard Orchestra to Carnegie Hall. This would be Alex’s first time, after rigorous training performing at the hall. After his performance a few musicians decide that the night shouldn't end and suggested going out for drinks. Alex was definitely not read for his high to die down and opted in for a night out. Having traveled back to campus first to put away any of his belongings he got a message from his father that he needed to call him urgently. He’d find out that his mother was in a coma after suffering 2 strokes. Alex would book a flight to Maryland and stay by his mother's side at the hospital. The night before Alex’s father decided to have his mother be pulled from the plug he was told to spend the night in a hotel and get some real rest. The next day, Alex returned to the hospital with his mother not in her room. He had asked the nurse what happened and found out his father pulled her plug earlier that morning. He rushed to his fathers in rage having one of the most explosive arguments he’s ever had with his father. He and his father haven’t spoken since. 

Most important childhood memory: Alex was 12 when his family decided  to move to America. Not that America wasn’t a place he wouldn't mind seeing, but living there and leaving his life was hard for him. Having protested, asking why the move was needed only prompted an irritated Virgil to snap at Alex that he ought to stay in a childs place. Alex would listen, only to leave unannounced in the night to hide away in an area he frequented a lot as a younger child. noon came, and he completely forgot to return home that night. He would hear the call of his father, afraid to come forth knowing the punishment he’d receive. It’s not until his mother goes looking for him, having realized the only place she hadn’t checked was the small hideout he hid as a child. She would find him, smirk, climb inside the tight space, and snicker as Virgil grew frustrated with them both. Without ever communicating, Alex was sure his mom hadn’t told because she understood how he felt about leaving. She too did not like the idea of leaving her life in Amsterdam behind. But, his father wanted the best education for his son to further his musical talent.

Childhood hero: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Dream job: Violinist and Composer

Education: 4yr Doctor of musical arts degree

Smokes: No Drinks: Socially  Other drugs: No

Optimist or pessimist? Introvert or extrovert? Daredevil or cautious? Logical or emotional? Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Prefers working or relaxing? Confident or unsure of himself?

Animal lover? Yes.

How he feels about himself: Alex feels like he always has room to improve. Although he can be quite negative on himself or his accomplishments he knows he is a hardworking and diligent person to get what he needs out of life.

One word the character would use to describe self: Growing

One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: He doesn't do well with stress, so much so that he’s found himself stuck completely. When things are good he’s good, showing off his sociable side and  affection he rarely shows, not because it’s hard for him, it’s just he’s usually tucked away at home or not up to talking to people showing himself to be unapproachable. He is a passionate musician, finding most of his contentment playing, listening, and composing music.

What does the character consider his best personality trait? Empathy 

What does the character consider his worst personality trait? Low Self-Esteem

What does the character consider his best physical characteristic? Nose, Eyes, and Hair

What does the character consider his worst physical characteristic? Lips, forehead.

How does the character think others perceive him: Handsome, Moody.

What would the character most like to change about himself: His ability to get stressed easily and his self-esteem.

Best friend(s): Dennis (met in New York during one of Dennis’s travels. Alex was performing at a club during his first years of college. They met, exchanged numbers and had kept in touch. Their bond grew after he lost his mother as Dennis proved to show how much of a great friend he was during his time of need) Jasmit (He used to watch her perform at the club he frequented. Eventually, after watching him perform she came up to him and boldly asked if he wouldn’t mind hanging out with her. He thought she was hitting on him, but she was impressed by his talent and they started jamming together. Till this day they still jam and keep in touch)