#fucking crazy ass sheep

[atinylittlepain]

the sheep wanted to tell you that the last chapter of deliver me from nowhere will be coming tonight :')

[unplanned-parenthood]

i have no basis to believe wilsons parents like house and its very unlikely bc no one likes him. but its a concept thats so endearing to me

[teaboot]

As someone who learnt english as a second language via textbook, I have to say "flying by the seat of my pants" is a hilarious idiom xD

It's the first time I've seen/heard it.

Could you share another one you like using?

Idk about idioms specifically, but there's a bunch of phrases I learned from my mom!

Lord love a duck! (Incredulous, like 'oh my god')

Lord suffer in sheep dip! (Sheep dip meaning sheep poop. Incredulous, but for annoying things- like 'are you kidding me?')

Is there a piano tied to your ass? ('Don't be lazy, do it yourself')

Someone's cruising for a bruising. (You're picking a fight.)

I don't give a rat's rip. ('I don't care'- a rat's 'rip' is it's butt crack.)

Pull up a stump! (Get yourself a chair, sit down.)

Everybody out of the pool! (Get out of the car)

I'm flying by the seat of my pants. (I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm doing it.)

Don't go blowing smoke up my ass. (Don't over-compliment me, don't flatter me, don't stroke my ego, don't tell me positive lies)

Looks like it's gonna rain on our parade. (A storm is coming.)

Sorry to rain on your parade. (I've given you bad news- can be used sincerely or sarcastically to denote sympathy for incurring a bad mood.)

Better button that lip. (Stop talking.)

Someone's gonna stick a boot up your ass. ('Stick a boot up your ass'- fight you, beat you, kick your ass.)

Stick that lip out any further, and a pigeon'll shit on it. (Stop whining.)

Suck it up, buttercup. (Stop whining.)

Dumber than a fence post. (Very stupid.)

The back forty. (The wild or forested area behind a rural home. The 'forty' being forty acres, or farmland.)

Don't go begging for a fat lip. (Whatever you're saying or doing is going to bother people and get you in trouble.)

What on God's green earth (What the fuck)

I'm sweating like a pig in a porta-potty (like a pig in a plastic outhouse- I'm very warm, it's hot here)

He thinks the universe flew out of his ass. (He thinks he's more impressive than he is.)

Your mouth wrote a cheque your ass couldn't cash. (You promised more than you were capable of providing.)

You've got a horseshoe up your ass. (You're very, very lucky.)

Taking a dirt nap. (Dead.)

Pushing (up) daisies. (Dead.)

Give me forty acres to turn this rig around. (I need time and space to move this large, heavy, or unwieldy thing. Usually about navigating a vehicle. Taken from a song lyric.)

Jesus take the wheel. (God help me, I can't handle this, I give up.)

Gone belly-up. (Has died.)

We've got a floater. (This one is dead.)

Herding cats. (Trying to organize chaos, managing an impossibly complicated situation.)

I've got a black thumb. (I am bad at growing plants, all my plants die- reference to having a 'green thumb', or being good at growing plants.)

Stop trackin' floor cookies. (Floor cookies are bits of animal shit that fall off your work boots- 'tracking floor cookies' means wearing your boots in the house; take your shoes off at the door.)

Running around like a headless chicken. (Frantic, disorganized, stressed out by many tasks or panicked by a big situation.)

Spinning my wheels. (Waiting around for something to happen, getting nowhere, frustrated by inactivity, not making any progress towards a goal.)

He's gonna blow a gasket. (He's going to lose his temper, he's going to be angry.)

They'll tan your hide. (They'll punish you severely; usually through violence. Specifically in reference to a spanking.)

He's a few bricks short a load. (He's not clever / he doesn't think things through / he's crazy)

Not the sharpest tool in the shed. (Not the smartest person. Very dumb, clumsy, or absent-minded.)

I'm not going to bail you out. (Not going to save your sinking boat- not going to help you out of your bad situation.)

Looks like things are going south. (The situation is growing worse.)

I'll start making tracks. (I'll leave now, I'll start working, I'll get going.)

He's fucking the dog. (He's not being productive, he's doing a bad job, he's made things worse, he's screwing around.)

He's making puppies. (Less graphic version of 'fucking the dog'.)

Plant your ass. (Sit.)

Playing grab-ass. (Procrastinating- accomplishing nothing, slowing people down.)

He couldn't find his ass in the dark. (He's stupid, ineffective, underqualified, or incompetent.)

He couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. (He is unbelievably, comically dumb or ineffective. He can't do anything right.)

One foot in the ground. (Dying, or half-dead.)

I'm kicking rocks. (I'm not doing anything productive.)

I'm hauling ass. (I'm running away.)

Madder than a wet hen. (Very, very angry.)

Like I said I'm not sure that these are all idioms but they're all the phrases and sayings from my childhood that I can remember right now

EDIT: Cannot BELIEVE I forgot my mom's favourite

52. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets filled first. (Wishes don't come true by themselves)

Plus some more I forgot:

53. You make a better door than a window. (You're in the way of my view.)

54. You can take a long walk off a short pier. (Go fuck yourself.)

55. He's about as sharp as a bowling ball. (He's stupid.)

56. Scoot your poot. (Move over.)

57. Not my first rodeo. (I know what I'm doing.)

58. He's built like a brick shithouse. (He's broad and sturdy and very strong, solid.)

59. I smell bacon. (I saw a cop nearby.)

60. I don't want to hear a peep. (Stop talking.)

61. You're thinking with the wrong head. (You're making bad decisions because you're horny.)

62. I'd lose my ass/head if it wasn't tied on. (I'm very absent-minded, forgetful.)

63. That went down like a lead balloon. (That situation was bad.)

[genericpuff]

The Derivative Fashion Sense of Lore Olympus

So I'm usually out here going Gordon Ramsay on Rachel's ass about her writing and art, but for this unsolicited essay I will be wearing a different hat.

Yep, we're going Miranda Priestly today. Specifically the Miranda Priestly who talks fashion, not the Miranda Priestly who abuses employees lmao (though rest assured, I'm gonna have a lot of curt words throughout this).

Disclaimer: I am not at all an expert on fashion, these are just my thoughts and observations from studying fashion styles as part of my own artistic journey, so as always, take what I have to say with loads of salt. I also realize the irony that I am addressing the derivative nature of Lore Olympus when I, myself, am creating a derivative retelling of Lore Olympus.

Alright, enough small talk.

There's this general misconception in runway fashion that all those "impractical outfits" are meant to be worn by the average person, people such as myself who see these outfits and go "what the fuck do you mean Lady Gaga wore a dress made out of meat?!" When we see these crazy fits, our first impression is often "Why would anyone wear that?"

Well, because they aren't outfits. They're art pieces.

And not only are the outfits themselves art pieces, but the people wearing them are the canvases. These outfits aren't designed for just anyone to wear, especially not your average Joe, they're designed both with the artist's vision as well as the model in mind. A lot of thought, expression, cultural influences, and personal messaging is sewn into these designs.

Think about it this way, you couldn't take that aforementioned Gaga meat dress and put it on Taylor Swift. Not only would it not be physically tailored to her, but it wouldn't align with Swift's brand of music. Gaga, at the time of wearing that dress, was making a statement that came about from a collaborative effort between herself, the canvas, and her fashion designer, the artist. The meaning would be lost if you put Swift, Katy Perry, or any other musician into it, because the fact that Gaga is the one wearing it is part of that meaning.

What would happen if you did take the meat dress and put it on someone else? Well, that's how you get the controversial 2022 Met Gala when Kim Kardashian wore the sequin dress that Marilyn Monroe wore for JFK back in 1962.

Not a replica. Not a re-interpretation. The actual literal dress that Monroe once wore. This was a very bold - and in my opinion, reckless - move on Kim's part, because not only was she forcing herself into a dress not tailored to her (and yes, there has been deliberation on what damage was caused to the dress on account of this) but rather than working with a fashion designer to come up with a fresh new interpretation of the same concept, she just went "yeah I'm gonna wear the exact dress", in what many interpreted as a disrespectful power move to artificially put herself on the same level of prestige as Monroe. But she still isn't on that level of prestige and it speaks volumes that she thought carving out her own legacy would be as simple as just taking someone else's. The wolf wore the sheep's clothing with the intent to fool the sheep, but it was still a wolf.

But okay okay, WHAT does this have to do with Lore Olympus?

Well, Rachel released a new interview clip.

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A post shared by Rachel Smythe (@usedbandaid)

I will say, these seem to have all been recorded at once probably when she was back at NYCC and they're probably going to be released daily leading up to the free release of the finale. Why they're hyping up the free version rather than hyping up the FastPass version that actually generates income, I have no clue, but I digress.

As always, the transcript is as follows:

"I really like looking at like, uh, vintage clothing and silhouettes that are... y'know, timeless. I mean, obviously it's really hard to future-proof work that's set in the modern setting because of course the times are gonna change, like, rapidly and there's not a lot you can do about it, but in terms of, like, fashion, there are just some silhouettes that are always going to look very classy, so... I try to put things that will not age. Like, I think there was a chapter recently where she [Persephone?] had like a very vintage Dior look which I really liked, um... and I feel like that will always look nice, like in 10 years time I'll be like, 'She looked good'. But there are some outfits which are more modern where I'm like, 'That probably won't look good in 10 years time'. But, y'know, we still got the inspired vintage Dior outfit so that's good, that's safe."

There isn't much to say about the actual transcribed text itself, but I do think it's very telling that Rachel tries to upsell her sense of fashion sense in LO when... much of it is just flat out derivative. At best she's often referencing real life people (mostly Hollywood celebrities) and at worst she's usually just grabbing stuff off Pinterest inspo boards without any consideration towards the influences or who she's putting into them.

That said, I do think she told on herself quite a bit in that final line of the interview clip - "that's good, that's safe."

I can understand wanting to play it safe in terms of knowing your limitations and not wanting to create something that would be dated in a few years.

But fashion... isn't about playing it safe. Because ultimately, how something ages in the long term isn't something that you, the artist, can control, and like many art mediums, you need to be focused on what to create next, not on how well your old art pieces still hold up in the present where they've been removed from their original context.

And I think this rings true for a lot of Lore Olympus, beyond just the fashion. It's all just a little too safe. We see it in the fashion, we see it in her uncommitted writing decisions, we see it in how often she's willing to retcon things just to write herself out of corners.

And I think that's really Rachel's biggest weakness as a creator at the end of the day. As much as she's tried to put on the persona of "screw you, I'll do what I want", her actions are always the opposite of what she says. She says that the fashion in LO is very vintage, but I can count on one hand how many outfits were actually vintage. The vast majority of them are a lot more modern, with a lot of Western influences, and sometimes with a boob window thrown in.

Case in point, the most recent outfit of Persephone wearing a practically-nude sparkle dress?

That's Rihanna's Swarovski dress that she wore in 2014.

Now, to Rachel's credit, she did find a way to personalize this to Persephone by removing the cap and giving her a rose-shaped bun, but the outfit itself is still just copied directly from Rihanna. Not only is there not a whole lot of Persephone's influence beyond her being literally made out of roses-

-but there isn't anything calling attention to the fact that this is a Greek myth retelling. And this isn't just a problem with the Swarovski dress callback, this is a problem EVERYWHERE.

And of course, that's not even touching on the fact that Hades and Hecate are forced to wear suits constantly. Because, according to Rachel, the fashion inspiration for Hades and Persephone only went as deep is "he's the groom and she's the bride"-

Rachel plays it safe by sticking purely to the inspirations she consumes from modern American media. The "modern twist" on the myths in LO is literally just "it's Greek myth but it's set in Los Angeles". She doesn't seem to want to put herself out there and actually consume Greek content any deeper than what she can find on Google, and it shows in how little Greek there is in this Greek myth comic.

There is, ironically, as I've been told by community members in ULO, a fashion collection called Persephone created by Paolo Sebastian, and in it you can see the actual Greek influences in these outfits far more than what you see in even Persephone's most visually stunning outfits:

These are dresses and yet Paolo uses them as an opportunity to tell the story of Persephone, somehow even more faithfully than an actual written adaption of The Hymn to Demeter. Because fashion, too, can tell a story - and Lore Olympus' fashion, like its writing, has no story to really tell, at least not in Rachel's hands when she's just pulling whatever she can find from what she treats as a pile of "stuff" on Google.

And that's not even getting into how the writing plays it safe much in the same way as the fashion influences and artistic choices. A good example is that S3 premiere sequence, in which Hades and Persephone are pulled away from each other so that... they can get washed down by their family and peers.

Rachel doesn't really do anything to re-contextualize this reference for the context and setting and circumstances of LO, she just goes "I liked that bath scene from Beauty and the Beast so I'm going to put it in LO."

And of course, it doesn't work as effectively as it did in Beauty and the Beast, because the whole original point of that scene was to showcase the big and scary Beast being washed down like a dog by his servants-turned-into-furniture while he stresses over how he's going to win over Belle. It's a comedic subversion, artistically by showing the ferocious beast reduced into a wet dog, but also on a narrative level by showing through his dialogue and actions how nervous he is to impress Belle because his own fate - as well as the fates of his servants - depend on her falling in love with him. He can't afford to mess this up.

But in LO, it's two naked people who we already know love each other and are committed to each other, we've already seen countless scenes of them being sweet on each other and showcasing that they're into each other, and by all accounts they've already gotten their happy ending, so it makes no sense for them to just be like "OMG SHE LIKES ME?? I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE LIKES ME!" "should I seduce him?!?!??" because this seems like a no-brainer and there's zero actual stakes riding on this the way that there was with Belle and the Beast. Plus the people washing them down aren't their servants who are in the same situation as them, they're random gods from the Pantheon whose affiliation ranges from "family" to "never even had a conversation before". One of the women washing down Persephone has literally never spoken a single line of dialogue to her; another one of them was literally dumped by her partner because he wanted Persephone more than her. Who are these people and why are they enthusiastically appearing to give her a bath? Why is Hades being given a scrub down by his own brother?

And that's really the most striking difference between inspired references and derivative ones. Undertale was a game created by a guy who was in love with retro games like Earthbound and Megaman. Stardew Valley was a game created by a guy who loved Harvest Moon and used to play it with his girlfriend. Content that's built on the foundation of another is natural and the basis of inspiration, but you have to go further with it than just going "yeah this thing existed and I'm taking it", otherwise you miss the purpose of why those inspirations were created the way they were.

And when you don't actually explore how you can re-interpret those influences and add your own voice into them, that's how you wind up writing like Rachel whose writing is about as inspired as a cheap character swap cutaway gag from Family Guy.

Rachel's great at referencing, but that's not at all an impressive thing to do as proven by Peter Griffin. She's not at all re-contextualizing or expanding on what inspired her... but she still claims that she's exactly what she's doing because she calls Lore Olympus a "deconstruction". But her deconstruction only ever goes so far as "well what if Aphrodite left Ares for Hephaestus instead of the other way around?" and then just showing that question and never answering it or delivering on the potential of what that could cause. At best, she'll ask a "what if?" but then never actually show us the what if, it begins and ends with the question and the question itself doesn't provoke any thought deeper than "huh, yeah, that would be neat I guess." Episode's over, next scene. What if we showed that clip of Bill O'Reilly freaking out on set, but like, replaced it with Stewie Griffin and changed nothing else about it except for that? That's the joke, next scene.

I know, we're digressing hard off the fashion here, but the fashion itself is just a symptom of a much bigger problem that expands even beyond Lore Olympus - Rachel plays things way too safe. Even her responses in her interviews are painfully subdued, often resorting to the same tired answers that we've heard 823190589320 times before to the same hand-picked questions that are undoubtedly chosen ahead of time to ensure she doesn't have to answer anything too complicated. And when she does say "I have thoughts about xyz" she never actually... expresses her thoughts. She just says she does and then moves on without any further elaboration because she can't wholeheartedly commit to whatever thoughts she has going on.

Granted, I'm sure that part of that is owed to the fact that she might feel like she can't say anything while the critics are breathing down her neck. I can understand that. But it's gotten so chronic that it's now bleeding into the work itself and it's led to even more criticism of her work. Need I remind you that this is the same person who copy pasted the definition of "xenia" from a first result Google search into her comic instead of naturally writing it into the script:

Rachel played it so safe that she basically treated her own audience like kindergartners by explaining what a scene meant even after explaining it in the text:

As true as it is in fashion, writing stories and making art takes risks. That doesn't mean you have to completely throw caution to the wind, but if you don't take risks, you do yourself the disservice of writing something that can truly be called unique and special to you. If you don't use your influences wisely, if you don't analyze and re-analyze what's influenced you over the years, you're going to wind up losing a lot of subtext in those influences and missing out on the opportunity to add your own voice into the re-interpretation. Rachel does take a lot of risks in LO, but they're not calculated risks, they're not risks that actually have any meaning behind them, she's sort of just throwing stuff at a wall and seeing what sticks, and worst of all, when it doesn't stick, she herself doesn't stick to it, she backpedals, she cowers away from the decisions she's made.

Rachel expressed her worries about depicting fashion that would become aged, but Lore Olympus is already aged through her own inability to commit to her decisions, take risks, and find her voice. It's aged itself through its poor interpretations of the myth, it's aged itself through its reliance on Tumblr tropes that have already been replaced tenfold, and it's aged itself through Rachel herself riding off the initial innovation of creating Lore Olympus and then never continuing to challenge herself or raise the bar for herself.

It proves true the discussion around why Lore Olympus became popular - at the time, it was groundbreaking, drawn in a style that we hadn't seen much of before, with fresh new takes on the myth; now, in 2024, its 'takes' feel tired and half-baked, and its art style has become a corporate-scrubbed shell of what it once was. And yet, Rachel is still rewarded for it all the same, so settling for comfortable mediocrity has become the name of the game.

Rachel may be trying as hard as the Disney life action remakes and Kim Kardashian to put herself on the same pedestal as the greats of yesteryear simply by copying what they did, but in playing it this safe and refusing to find her own voice out of the voices that influenced her, Lore Olympus isn't timeless. It's soulless.

[marksbear]

Could I ask for 141 with a southern male reader? I’d like to know what the boys would think of a heavy southern drawl (cowboys are all the rage now a days lol)

Wish I could write more, but I don't have much time rn. But I wrote as much as I could and on my blog theres more fics about y'know cowboy/southern reader

141 BOYS X SOUTHERN MALE READER

Price is probably the least bothered by your accent. But he is interested by it. It's not everyday that he hears a southern accent like yours.

He secretly likes the silly nicknames you give him.

Anytime the team has a free day or something you'll take him to see you ride at a rodeo.

He probably knows how to ride a horse so you and him would spend time together riding around valleys and mountains and hike and camp. Like some brokeback mountain type shit.

As you two grow closer one day you'll just plop down your cowboy hat on his head and just walk away like nothing happened. Like your hat would just be a symbol of y'alls friendship when you give it to him.

He's not a messy person, but when it comes to arguing and he hears your accent thickens as you argue with the person, he'll watch from afar only stepping in when it becomes heated.

You teaching him how to use a lasso and how to make a lasso.

He likes to playfully correct your grammar when you say things. "Ain't isn't a word L/n."

He likes to help out on your ranch/farm from time to time.

Likes to call you outlaw.

"It's hotter than a witches cooch ain't it soap?" *Soap stares at you like your were some fucking weirdo.* Your guys first ever conversation.

From that day forward y'all became the most annoying duo inside the whole military.

Steals your cowboy hat and boots all the time.

"Yer got a ol' lady at home or what?" Soap asks in a teasing tone.

Him laughing his ass off if you ever get thrown off a bull/horse.

If you have a ranch and you invite him over he would not help at all with chasing/ hurdling cattle. But he does help you groom the horses and milk the cows.

Him not trying to giggle while you scold him, because your accent is thicker and louder every time you do it.

Likes to poke fun at your accent even though he cannot be talking like at all.

Watching you in awe as you lasso an enemy and tie them up as if they were just some light sheep.

If you like to chew on wheat straw he'll side eye you a couple times as you just mind your business.

At your ranch he'll make a little competition to see who can lift more hay barrels.

Likes to watch you argue because you have a small temper and can be angered easily. So he just likes to see a good southern brawl from you.

He was finally at peace once that he heard a familiar accent from where he was from.

The boy was thrilled to hear an american accent let alone a southern one. He was over the moon.

He probably grew up with people with a southern accent so once he heard yours he knew he had to get you on his side.

He knows how southern people get with their temper and feelings so he tries his hardest for you to not hate him like the others do.

Slowly you two begin to bond.

And once you two become friends y'all begin to hang out. He knows alot about farm animals and etc so he would help out at your farm/ranch. He loves taking care of the crops and all that.

The others on the team call you crazy for trusting him, but with your small temper you shouted at them with your accent coming in full force.

You calling him "City boy." while he calls you "Cowboy."

Him picking up your accent and words.

Since your accent begins to rub off on him he'll start calling you"darling." or "sugar."

Slowly tries to make you betray the team with him. He wouldn't force you, but he'll just go on and on as to why you should side with him.

THE END

[chocsra]

"Take the Gun and my Heart, okay?"

15! Chuuya x implied fem! reader

A/N: im back again 😜😜 please send more requests and ideas! i wanna try writing angst for my next fics

content: you're the port mafia's best markswoman/sniper & chuuya goes to you to learn ur ways, oneshot, fluff, pre-relationship, mafia work 😱, guns, coworkers? to lovers, rich chuuya era, could be gn! reader bc there are no descriptions but used she/her prns 😭

thank you sm @soleelia for the idea!

Sometimes, regular days of being in the mafia felt boring.

Most of your life was inhabited by the four same walls of the mafia's firing range, your body was free of bruises besides the callouses on your fingers from the amount of steel pressing against your palms; it almost felt like your hands grew with a silver pistol rested upon them as if royalty was granted with a crown.

When you were younger, a tall pale man with the name of Paul Verlaine taught you all the ways of a markswoman he could.

Your work consisted of staying in the firing range, assisting criminals in their weaponry choices, dealing guns; and the off chance you could go on missions.

But when you did, shit was amazing.

"Nice one, [Y/N]." A boyish voice rang through the single earpiece of your left ear, repositioning yourself planted on the ground of one of the Port Mafia's rooftops; your index finger positioned off the trigger, taking your face off of the scope. "The pleasure's all mine." You thank teasingly; even if your 'partner' was kilometers away from you, you could almost taste the cruel smirk on his face from the other side; plotting a decimation not even a mafioso with 30 years of experience could pull off.

Dazai Osamu, the youngest mafia executive in history.

He was the craziest fuck you've ever met, but you did partake in his affairs with murder and crime; just from afar. Word says he got himself a new partner on the battlefield; a boy a year older than you, he was the supposed King of The Sheep, but his mentality and brutal force screamed nothing more than that of a wolf.

"Careful, pipsqueak - backup has already been granted." the lanky boy with bandages covered all around the midst of his tainted body said with boredom sinking in his voice; blood dribbled down his forehead, emerging in the facial bandages covering his right eye. Men with firearms and knives surrounded the two teenage boys; more than ready to shoot the children under the guise of their boss.

The ginger next to him barely turned his head in Dazai's direction, his tongue swiped behind his bottom teeth in irritation; though owning a petite stature, the King of The Sheep was more than confident that all these men, despite their bodies, would fall to their knees under the crushing pressure of gravity. "I don't give a damn about your shitty backup, I didn't join the Port Mafia to be protected." the redhead smiled cheekily, a red aura glowing from his body as his right leg lifted in the air - about to throw a powerful repeating hook kick.

Bang.

Several collisions shot through the air, Chuuya was sure it was the force of his ass-kicking skills; Dazai would have flipped a coin to see if it was you or the midget who landed a shot.

The redhead launched in the air, he twisted his leg just so that his shin hit the man's forehead. However, upon doing so - blood spluttered out of the man's head, falling harshly to the ground. The small boy landed successfully on the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets with a proud smirk. Until Dazai gently pressed on his earpiece to enable the microphone. "Again, thank you, [Y/N]," he says with a sigh, watching as Chuuya's face contorts in confusion. Spinning around on his heels, the man died not by his kick; but by a metal bullet pierced through the middle of his skull; along with all the other men perfectly striked in the forehead with the small bullets.

"What?" the ginger mafioso asked with surprise, "Who the hell did that?" he sharply turned to the bandaged brunette with annoyance laced in his voice. "[Y/N], you haven't heard of her?" Dazai asks boredly, striding over to the fallen man who was their leader. "No? Dude, where'd that even come from?" Chuuya spins his head in several directions, trying to find the source of the bullets. "Up your ass." the lanky boy teased, bending down to ransack the man's clothing.

"Shut up! Guns are a good for nothin' weapon anyway! Like hell we need them!!"

"Huh? I thought you didn't like guns."

You stood across from Chuuya in the stained room of the firing range, it's length was more than long, with rather narrow walls. Bales of hay were stacked at the end of the room, protecting the wall from bullets and missed shots. From the small distance of the door creaking open, laid the only walking point of the room; as the rest were hidden by pillars that seperated individual's gunfire; and nobody wished to get shot.

The teenager ruffles his hair, almost loathing in the awkward silence of the room; even with noice cancelling headphones on. He was wearing casual clothing, usual black sweatpants and some sort of red biker jacket; accompanied by a swift movement of his orange hair, tangling between his fingers.

"About that- 'kinda feel left out, ya mind teaching me?"

"You don't know how to use a gun?"

A more awkward silence entered the room as you stare at him in disbelief, the ginger's face remained somewhat sheepish; but by his piercing azure eyes, he was irritated by something, pretty obvious. "Nah," Chuuya replies, gently pushing his hands in his pockets, walking up to you. "was never a fan of guns - ain't bullets shoot better with your hands?" the boy smirked cheekily, causing you to scoff and take off your headphones. "You're talkin' like I can manipulate gravity." you reply dryly with a creeping smile, finishing to sweep the lose bullets on the floor.

"Exactly, that's why I'm apart of the mafia." the redhead boasted defensively, rolling his tongue across his inner cheek. "I think you're the only mafioso who doesn't know how to shoot." you reply with almost a whisper, his sharp glare at you made you question your lifespan. "I've dealt with swords thanks to Kouyou, I've gone to daggers and knives for the look and practicality - so lemme ask ya this, [Y/N], why would I ever turn to guns?" you heaved a sigh at his smartass answers, sometimes you hated his stupid delusions that he always had to be right.

"Well you're here now, so technically you are turning to guns." you swipe a sleek pistol off a metal table, discharging the magazine to see if any bullets were left. "Tsk," Chuuya crossed his arms in annoyance, "You're putting words and my mouth." he scoffed, causing little bits of laughter to escape your lips. "Just shut up and listen."

"Chuuya- you can't shoot a gun with one hand." you scold in annoyance, gently taking the same pistol out of the boy's gloved hands. "Why the hell not? I see it all the time." he brushes off some dirt off his jacket, blue eyes gazing at the addition of bullets in the chamber. "You watch too many movies," you mutter in concentration, redjusting the safety junctures. "a pistol's recoil wouldn't allow you to shoot it properly, and you'd miss like, 90% of the time as a beginner." you grin mockingly, causing Chuuya to smirk in irritation.

"But Dazai does it all the time."

"I don't know- Dazai's fuckin' crazy."

"You have a point."

You laugh as you placed the gun in his hands, "Always treat a gun like it's loaded, even if we're mafia." you said softly, the ginger nodded, readjusting his position into some kind of sharp-shooter. "Got it," he rasps, pointing the silver tip of the pistol towards the cardboard target. Your eyes scan his whole body and stance with predictability, he was standing like he was holding in a shit. "C'mere," you proceed with a click of the tongue, cupping Chuuya's hands over the pistol.

The fabric of his gloves saved you from some embarrassment, but you couldn't help but feel the way his soft hair poked your face leaning over his right shoulder. "Your hand that's going to pull the trigger should only use 30% of force, all the other should be with the other hand, using 70% to support it." you inform in almost a whisper, applying pressure atop his right hand for a more firm grip, Chuuya's eyes glanced to yours with a slight pink tint on his cheeks before nodding. "Alright,"

"So, why'd you come to learn from me anyway?"

"'Cause I wanna learn from the best, yea?"

...

"What?"

"What? You don't like being complimented?"

Trying to readjust his grip on the firearm whilst his breath was fanning your face and neck was so damn distracting, you don't even think he knows how close or what he's doing; especially with his trademark smirk and alluring aura. Chuuya's always been a bastard, but he wasn't all bad when you had a civil conversation; actually, maybe you two had one too many civil conversations. "Okay, think I got it, ima shoot." he nods with confidence, you take a step back as the redhead takes a few moments to reposition his stance and well, learn how to shoot.

"There's two parts of a gun that allows you to shoot: 1. the front, 2. the rear, match those two up and it's like a puzzle." you inform, pointing to the junctures of the firearm before yet again taking a step back. "And don't forget double action, it holds more trigger pull than all other shots."

From all the talking you just did, there was only one thing on your mind; Chuuya. A conversation so little that felt so heavy, were you that touch starved? Nobody visited you in the range, only older men who were practicing their skills. Infact, Chuuya hates guns; he believes that it held no value over him in the mafia and a machine used by non-ability users and non-ability users only. And yet, he still learnt from you, he could've went to anyone else; he could've went to another person to watch him fail.

Too much of your previous conversations filled your head; wine, motorcycles, cigarettes, music.. maybe you did share one too many conversations, you hate the way someone so violent could you make you feel huma-

Bang.

For the first time in your life, with or without headphones; the sound of a bullet puncturing cardboard startled you, even just a little. Damn it, that ginger did a number on you. You tilt your head up to see if the bullet hit, indeed it did not. "Fuck," the redhead groans, causing you to snicker a little bit, attempting to stiffle it with your hand. "Man, shut up.." he scowls in irritation, a small smile creeping on his face. "C'mon, the chambers not finished, you can do it." you cheer the boy on, patting his back lightly, Chuuya only chuckles with a shake of the head before turning back to the target.

"You wanna know why I think you're the best?" the mafioso continues to shoot, gritting his teeth everytime the metal bullet pierced anything but cardboard. "Why?" you ask curiously, watching as he finishes the chamber, setting the firearm down at the decently shot target.

"Have dinner with me and find out."

He smirks confidently, watching as you stare at the ginger blankly. "You wanna shoot up a restaurant?" you cock a brow in confusion, taking off your headphones. "No- what?"

"What I mean is, let's go out and enjoy some good food tonight, 'kay?"

[amoosarte]

𝓞𝙐𝙍 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝘿𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈𝙎, LANDO NORRIS

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝐈. THE START OF AN ADDICTION

SUMMARY, after a brutal breakup Loretta has had enough time to be cooped up on her ranch, leaving her friends to drag her out to have a fun night out, since it's her first time being out since her break up, many eyes follow her every step, until she meets an unusual man at the club.

WARNINGS, this contains explicit language, mention of cheating, alcohol, sexual intentions, making out to sex, and the mention of one night stands.

   Loretta didn’t know what she did to deserve what was happening to her right now. The twenty-five-year-old was about to lose it when she saw her now ex-boyfriend fucking a stupid redneck in her truck.

The ounce of disgust that spilled all over her face when she open the back of her truck to some ass. Making the unfaithful bastard gasp and pull the girl off of him, calling out to the girl who slammed the car door shut.

Loretta ran back into the house, making the pair in her truck hurry up to dress themselves. The redneck gasped in horror when she saw the barrel racer fuming back outside─only this time she wasn't playing.

Loretta knew it wasn't the smartest move, but she didn't give a fuck when she loaded her shotgun. Cocking the gun, letting a new round of ammo prepare itself to be fired.

"Darling, please, let's talk about this!" The man tried to reason with her, but it only her aim the gun towards him. "You and your bitch get the fuck off my property!" Loretta's eyes spoke anger, making him drag the girl out of the truck.

"Darling, let's talk about this please." He tried to reason with her, making her lose her cool. She fired the weapon right next to the ground where they stood, making them scream. "I ain't playin’ with you! Take your bitch home and expect your shit to be dumped out by the road." Lorette screamed.

"Y-You're fuckin' crazy!" The redneck screamed, clutching the back of the man's shirt. Loretta laughed at her remark, not faltering the gun once. "You're fuckin' stupid for messin' around with a barrel racer, don't think I don't know you, you're the little bitch who picks up the cow shit." Loretta laughed at her as she got red.

Loretta allowed her eyes to shift to the man guarding the girl. "Well then, scram!" With that the pair scrambled away, making the girl form a frown. Once the pair left in his truck, Loretta sighed, what was she going to do now?

Did the breakup affect her? She would say no, but to her workers, they would say it did. Loretta never left the ranch after the confrontation. She tended to her job, gathering the sheep, leading the herd of cows to their designated land, training the horses, and much more.

She worked herself to the bone, not wanting to talk to anyone at all. She sold her truck with the help of a friend, she dumped everything she found that was his. She refurbished her home like she always wanted, and she changed her way of life.

She changed, she had given herself a makeover. She wanted to enter a new era of her life, after 5 months, she was glowing.

The blonde woke up when her rooster called out, jumping out of bed and readying herself for some horseback riding. It was a good way to start her morning, the misty morning allowed fresh air into her lungs.

Watching the sunrise made her warm as she looked at the oranges, pinks, and yellows scattered around the sky. She would greet the group of men who worked with her to keep the land tightly. It was a normal day for her until her friends showed up.

"No."She bluntly told them, making them roll their eyes. "Yes, you are coming out with us tonight," Heidi told her, making the blonde huff around her office. Daniel was standing by the door as he watched his girlfriend and his friend bicker back and forward.

"C'mon Loretta, it would be nice if you got out of the house once in a while!" Daniel called out, making the girl glared at him. "You guys know, I don't want anything right now!" Loretta established her statement with her friend.

"Yes, we understand you on that, but you can still go out as a single gal!" Heidi smiled as she watched the girl consider it. "Please! You've just been cooped up on the ranch! If it's not here you're either at the bar or doing barrel racing!" Heidi begged her friend, making her groan.

"Alright, I'll go! But don't make me third wheel!" Loretta pointed at the couple, making the girl scream in delight and the man laugh.

"Okay, we'll see you there! Don't be late." Heidi smiled and walked away with her boyfriend. Loretta smiled at her friend's attempt, now she sighed. What was she going to wear? She hadn't gone out in a long time, perhaps if she dug around well, she could find something.

When the time came nearing, Loretta dismissed the workers, telling them they had the day off tomorrow. She wore a flared jean jumpsuit that had a slit opening near her chest, exposing her breast a tad, then added an aqua-detailed western concho belt and her cleanest boots under her pants. She styled her hair in a blown-out style before fixing her makeup, and then running out the door into her new truck.

To say the least, Loretta was pissin’ her pants as she walked into the bar. Trying to find her friends in the crowd of people, she tried her best to go into a crowd of people, but after being pushed around and whistled down on, she huffed and pulled out her phone. 

Loretta sat at the bar, telling Heidi where she was at. She told the woman behind the bar she wanted a beer, wanting nothing but to chug the shit down, and she did. “Woah, shouldn't you savor the flavor?” Loretta swallowed the bitter liquid down before looking at the man beside her. 

He was wearing a black button-up, one of the expensive ones she thought, and a pair of white fancy pants and to her surprise shoes, and not a pair of boots. She finally looked at the man who caught her attention, a nicely tanned man, who had a growing goat tee and the most remarkable pair of aquamarine-colored eyes. 

“Why would you want to savor such a bitter flavor?” Loretta asked him, making him raise an eyebrow. “It’s more about the nice cold liquid that does down my throat that I like,” Loretta told him before finishing the bottle. “Say, why are you dressed like that?” She asked him, making him smile. 

“My friend never told me the dress code, his fault I’m standing out so much.” He said before flagging down the bartender. “Ah, they dragged you down here?” Loretta asked him, making the man nod. “Two beers, Honey,” Loretta told the bartender, making the man right next to her confused. “It’s on me since I’m guessing you're more of a whiskey type of man?” Loretta assumed, and oddly she was correct. 

“The beer here is the best, in my opinion, you ought to give it a try.” She placed the beer bottle in front of him before taking a swing for herself. “Lorry!” A sweet voice called out behind her, making her turn over in her chair. “Ah, We finally found ya!” A male voice called out right behind the sweet one. 

Daniel and Heidi smiled at the pair, making them look at each other. “Lando this is Loretta, Loretta, Lando, if you guys haven't introduced yourselves yet,” Daniel said. Lando looked at Loretta before raising his hand for her to shake. “Pleasure.” 

“Likewise.” Loretta smiled at the man, then took a swing of her beer before hopping off from her seat and dragging Heidi towards the dance floor. As the pair of men watched as the girl danced, they soon turned to themselves to bicker.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the fucking dress code!” Lando scolded him, making Daniel laugh. “You told me we were going to a club!”Lando playfully shoved him, making him turn red. 

“We are, aren’t we?” Daniel sent him a smirk, making the man groan. “Man, you know what I’m talking about! Plus why didn’t you tell me she was hot too!” Lando wanted nothing but to shrink down and hide. “I have a girlfriend.” Daniel rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend. 

“Either way!” Lando looked at the pair who was having the time of their life, making him think hard. “Is she single?” Lando asked, making Daniel nod. “Yup, but she said she ain’t ready for another relationship, perhaps you can change her mind, eh?” He told him. 

The night had worked in Loretta's favor, she will admit, she was having fun. As she made her way back to the bar, she noticed the same man parked in his seat. “Have you just been sat there?” She asked, getting his attention. “A beer please.” She said as she sat right next to him again.

“I’m a bit embarrassed, to be honest,” Lando told her, taking a sip of his margarita. “Why? Is it because of your outfit?” She asked, and she got her response when he nodded. “Please, you look fine, y’know what?” Loretta once again chugged her beer down, it was a nasty habit of hers. Lando got confused as she pulled him out of his chair. 

“We are going to dance,” Loretta told him before spinning around and leading him to the floor. Lando looked around him, seeing a bunch of country folk dance together. “Sorry, but I don’t know how to dance like this?” Lando looked at her nervously.

“It’s fine, I got boots, feel free to step on my toes.” Loretta joked around, trying to ease him up. 

As they stood in position, she looked at him once again. “Honestly, I don’t know how to dance this too, but let’s go with the flow?” She smiled, making him ease up. They dance, well actually, they move to the rhythm of the song, and they end up having fun.

“You know, you look really good tonight,” Lando muttered into her ear as they tried to the now crowded dance floor. 

Loretta was about to thank him when someone tapped her ass, making her spin around to see who did it, and to her surprise, it was James, her ex. “Wow, if it isn’t Loretta, always knew you were a whore, just look at how you dress.” He scoffed, making her roll her eyes in annoyance.

“Hey man, leave her alone.” Lando stepped in but was held back by Loretta. “Is this who you’re sleeping with now?” James eyed down Lando. 

Loretta scoffed, “So what if I am, why do you care? You cheated remember? You’re lost.” She said, a smirk growing when she saw the man become mad. “Whatever, let’s go Lando.” Loretta dragged Lando away before she felt someone snatch her hair, making her scream. 

“You bitch, what makes you think you can speak to me like that?” James had pulled her hair, making the girl visibly mad. Lando’s mouth dropped at the scene but before he could step in, Loretta defended herself. She threw a punch, making the man tumble a bit. “I can talk to you however the fuck I want, you ain’t no one but a bitch.” Loretta spat near him, making him more visibly upset. 

James grew red but before he could lay a hand towards Loretta, a couple of men held him back, probably the security. Loretta watched as he was dragged away, she groaned as she massaged the part where her hair was pulled. “Sorry about that.” She apologized to Lando, but he shrugged it off.

“Please you have nothing to apologize for, it was lowkey hot.” Lando blurted but mumbled the last bit. 

 “Sorry, I'm going to leave now.” Loretta blurted out, making her way towards the bar to pay. Lando stopped her, making her confused, “Don’t worry about it, I paid for it.” He told her, making her shocked. “Oh god, you didn’t have to!” Loretta pulled her phone out to pay him back before Lando laughed. 

“Honestly, It’s fine.” Lando smiled, before asking her something. “Can I walk you to your car?” Lando asked, making her red but thanks to the dim lights it wasn’t that noticeable. Never in her life had anyone offered, even when she was in a relationship, it was her first. 

“Uh, sure.” Loretta smiled, and they waved Heidi and Daniel goodbye as they walked out of the club. “Thanks to you and the others, I had fun tonight,” Loretta smiled as the air touched the layer of sweat on her skin. “Same, It was a nice difference to what I’m used to.” Lando smiled at her too, before walking her to her car. 

“Oh, you drive a truck.” Lando laughed as the girl laughed as well. “Yeah, it’s for work.” Loretta smiled at his amusement, before turning towards him. “Uh, then goodnight.” Loretta smiled at him, making him turn towards her. “Uh, I meant what I said, you looked really good tonight.” He told her, and it shifted the air. 

“If you don’t mind, do you want to go out another day? Uh as friends if you want! It's honestly fine, you seem like a nice–” Lando rambled but was interrupted by Loretta as she kissed him. 

Was it weird to kiss a stranger? Honesty Loretta felt new to this, it’s been a long time since she tried something. Then again, it felt nice interacting with men again, especially someone like Lando. She was about to pull away until Lando kissed her back, lips tasting like the bitter beer she chugged, but the strawberry lipgloss she applied every time she wandered off masked it right. 

Lando wasn’t going to fucking lie, he was attracted to the girl. Wanting nothing but to take her out, get to know her, and just be around her. How he loved how his night shifted. 

He gently pinned her to her truck door, letting his lips kiss her nicely, but her plum lips harshly wanted more. Loretta was deprived of some action and wanted more. She moaned lightly as Lando placed his hands on her hips, as she ran her fingers through his curls. 

Then the noise of a car unlocking scared them, making them jump off from each other.  “Uh, sorry.” Loretta fixed her hair, but she could feel her face become beat red. Lando nodded and cleared his throat, he felt like he was on fire. 

The pair looked at each other and smiled. “Do you, uh– do you want to go to my house? We can pick up from there if you want.” Loretta boldly asked, making the boy speechless and now very red, but he managed to give her a nod.

Loretta had no fucking clue what she was doing, she was shittin bricks when she pulled up to her front lawn, then saw his car pull up behind her. Lando felt her nervousness, and he wanted nothing but to reciprocate those feelings. But when they stood in front of each other, everything seemed to click. 

Loretta loved the texture of his curls when they were in her fingers. She didn’t let go of his lips for a second as he walked her through her front door, clinging lightly to her clothes. She broke their kiss when her back hit the stair railing, making her look at him.

She closed the front door before pulling the clueless boy upstairs. Lando chose this tiny adventure to study Loretta’s home, it was nice and homey. Then before he could look around more, Loretta pulled him into her bedroom, pulling him from his thought process by kissing his lips once again.

She had started to unbutton his black button-up as he too unzipped her jumpsuit, making them both look at their exposed skin, wanting nothing but to run their hands across it. Lando was the first to take off an article of clothes, ducking his head down to kiss her neck and collarbone. 

Loretta moaned as she felt his lips suck on her deprived skin, then the feeling of her hands running across his bare tan back. She plopped down onto the bed and she let him pull her arms out of the straps of the jumpsuit, exposing her tender breast. 

It’s been so long since she was able to expose herself to someone, so long since she tasted someone. She inhaled as she looked up towards Lando as he held himself back, making her pull his belt loops towards her. 

Allowing him to touch her, she gasped lightly as he touched her so softly and gently. She was so new to this, making her want to cling to him as much as possible.

꒰𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @landitolover, @d6za1, @ch3rryknots @louvrepool @thearchieves @moneygramhaas ꒱

[tangledinink]

Chapter Twelve of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is up!!! It's the moment you've all waited for-- the reveal. :000 They boys discover some things about themselves (things they once knew) and visit an unfamiliar place (a place that was once familiar.) Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

The group’s shocked silence lasted for two, maybe three seconds before it quickly morphed into chaos.

“That’s him! That’s the goat!” Mikey shrieked, pointing wildly. “That’s the goat who has Dad!”

“Leo! Call 911!” Raph commanded. Leo scoffed loudly.

“No way! I wanna kick this guy’s ass. Make Donnie do it.”

“What?! No fair! I’ve called 911 the last six times! It’s someone else’s turn!”

“You have not! I called 911 last time!” April protested.

“That one doesn’t count!”

“Well someone’s gotta--”

“Enough!” Goatman snarled, absolutely bristling, waving his arm sharply. The air around them suddenly felt colder and stiller, and Leo shuddered, gritting his teeth as his posture stiffened. “I am not here to listen to your silly arguments. I am here to bring you home, so you can finally fulfill your purpose.”

Leo gave a short snort of laughter. “Hm, yeah, tempting, but our Daddy actually taught us not to go with creepy sheep strangers, even if they offer us free candy, soooo…”

“What?! Candy? No! I’m talking about your purpose! The reason you were created-- to eliminate the human threat! Come with me, and I can unlock your full potential!”

“How many divine purposes have we got again? ‘Cause I’m starting to lose track,” Mikey complained. Leo rolled his eyes.

“Eliminate the human threat? Yeah, uh, maybe you haven't been paying attention, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re literally humans.”

The yokai paused for a moment. His face twisted, and he hunched his shoulders back before he gave a forced laugh. “Humans?” He echoed. “Humans?! Surely you aren’t fooled by those silly trinkets! You can’t possibly, actually believe…”

“Oh my god. This guy is, like, for real crazy,” April observed, raising her brows.

“No, you are fools!” He hissed in return. “Humans?! These ridiculous forms are completely fabricated! These are not your true selves! You are experiments! You are soldiers! You’re mutated turtles-- my greatest creations! The creations of Baron Draxum!”

“Baron Draxum? Okay, well, we’ll deal with him when he gets here… Oh… Oh-ho-ho wait! You’re doing that, like, sinister talking-about-yourself-in-third person thing, aren’t you! Oh my god, that’s rich!” Leo snorted.

“Hey! Only Raph can use the third-person!”

“I’m sorry, did he say turtles?” Mikey questioned.

“Oh my fucking god…” Leo laughed, clutching his stomach. “Turtles? I’m sorry, we’re mutant turtles?”

“This guy can’t be serious,” Raph muttered.

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure we would have noticed by now if we were reptiles,” Donnie scoffed, one hand on his hip. “Let alone subjects of some kind of biochemical experiments. Which I am intimately familiar with, by the way. Do you have any idea how many community gardens I’ve been banned from?”

“This can’t…” The yokai shook his head, a hand on his brow. “How could you be tricked by such simple magic? I will show you if I have to.” 

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Donnie muttered.

“Come with me--”

“You are out of your damn mind if you think we’re goin’ anywhere with you!” Raph cut in.

“Maybe if you prove that turtle hypothesis thing you have going on, we can discuss it from there,” Donnie laughed, one brow quirked, sounding caught somewhere between exasperated and amused. Honestly, this whole thing was a little bit fucking hilarious. It was also fucking horrible and scary because their dad was missing and a magic criminal had them cornered in an alley, but like. Seriously. Mutant turtles? You can’t make this stuff up, dude.

Draxum sighed very deeply, scowling at their group.

“Very well,” he said, and he snapped his fingers.

Things became unfunny very, very quickly. 

If the air had become cold earlier, now it became startlingly hot, just for a moment, the alley rising up at least five degrees, and Leo heard this choked, startled gasp that he immediately recognized as his twin brother. At the same time, a blinding, almost familiar flash of white light overtook the alley, and Leo hissed, flinching away. 

When he looked back, he was horrified to find that where his brother had been standing just a moment ago there was instead some sort of green, scaled creature, their eyes slitted and their skin leathery and bumped, and he thought, what the hell happened to my brother? And after a moment of silence, all of them staring in dazed shock, the reptile flailed, floundered, held its own hands up to its face as if to examine them, and promptly began screaming. 

And Leo recognized his own brother's screams, so instead he was thinking: what the hell happened to my brother?!

“What did you do?!” Leo shrieked. Behind him, Mikey screamed, too, and he could hear April spluttering out an impressive string of curse words. He just barely resisted the urge to race over to Donnie’s side, to check if he was okay, (he’s not okay, he knows he’s not okay,) to try to help him, to fix it, because he couldn’t just turn his back on the enemy in front of them-- couldn’t ignore the very obvious threat.

“I simply removed the cloaking enchantment as he requested,” Draxum responded calmly. He even looked amused, almost, the very corners of his lips turning up.

“You what!? What the hell are you-- fix it!!! Turn him back!!!” Leo demanded, his voice rising with the very edges of panic, his pulse climbing ever-steadily higher the longer he listened to his siblings scream.

The other sighed deeply, tilting their head to the side. “Do you still not understand? Fine, then. I’ll show you as well.” 

Snap.

Leo wouldn’t describe the experience as painful, but it really wasn’t pleasant, either. He swore he could feel his skin being stripped away and reforming; it was like his skeleton itself was being rearranged, his entire body becoming fluid for just a split second before solidifying again in new places, new patterns, new spaces. An unfamiliar weight pulled at his shoulders, forcing his spine to bend, and his hands and feet fell in a way that now felt unnatural to him. His skin seemed to lay over his muscles differently now.

He was vaguely aware of Mikey screaming somewhere behind him a second time, echoing Donatello’s continued wails. 

“Guys?” April bit out, her voice high and frightened.

What the hell happened to him?

“What-- what did you do?” Leo repeated himself, his eyes wide, straining, because his vision was ever-so-slightly different than it had been a few seconds ago and he didn’t know how to adjust. He swore to god he was frozen in place. He wasn’t sure when he had ended up on his knees, but he was shaking so hard, he supposed he wasn’t surprised.

What the fuck happened to his body?

“Now are you convinced?” The yokai pressed. “Now, we will be going to my lab whether you want to or not. We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. I would highly recommend the easy way,” he hummed, giving a sharp sweep of his arms. Wind tugged at his back and Leo had just barely the presence of mind to glance behind him, his eyes widening in horror to see this huge expanse of black opening up behind him. 

Mikey-- (Mikey? They were small, they were wearing Mikey’s clothes, it must be Mikey--) yelped loudly, the inky cloud yanking him from his feet. April jumped, attempting to grab her baby brother, though she only succeeded in falling into him-- both of them swallowed up into the portal. Raph gave a strangled howl of protest, diving right after them, and Donnie was sucked up as well, disappearing from Leo’s sight. His heart thudded wildly in his ears. He could feel the magick yanking at him, trying to pull him in as well. 

But Leo had always been the fastest. 

Every shred of him was screaming to follow, to chase after his family, to go with his sister and brothers, but he tensed his muscles, his stance widening and holding firm as he set his sights back on the yokai towering before him. A tiny voice in his head whispered in his ears that following wouldn’t help--

No, he had to move forward. This guy was the one hurting them.

Get him.

Leo wasn’t sure if he had leapt forward or if he simply was there. Everything was moving too quickly for even him to follow, the blinding white of panic and rage eating hungrily at the edges of his vision, threatening to overtake him. Either way, he lunged, a cry of protective fury wringing itself from his chest.

 "Stay away from my brothers," he snarled, his own throat staggering painfully with the force with which he screamed out his warning, his hands flying forward to grab the yokai by his throat, slamming into him at full speed. He felt the alien velvet fuzz of Draxum’s skin beneath the tear of his fingernails (claws) even as the pair of them were flung from their feet. Gravity was stolen from them both, the portal behind them reaching out to consume them. 

Everything went black. For just a second, tumbling through nothingness, floating through the sizzling rush of magick itself, Leo couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything, all he could feel was the body of the yokai against him, struggling against his grip, attempting to throw him away. 

And then this bright, searing lavender light came singing through the world. It didn’t reflect or bounce; nothing was lit up by it. Leo still could not see himself, could not even find the outline of his own hands or fingers. But this brilliant, complex pattern of the palest, gentlest pastel purple lit up bright before him, swirling and twisting in foreign shapes, and Leo just barely recognized that the ribbon of runes they formed echoed the shape of the yokai he had just grabbed.

The body he was clinging to went limp.

The next second, the wind was knocked out of him as they made impact with stone, light coming streaming back into his universe. Leo found himself landing in a heap in their new location, the portal disappearing behind them. Oddly, however, the crash landing didn’t hurt near as much as he would have expected it to.

“Leo!” He heard Raph cry. Leo groaned, still dazed, looking around blearily. Where the hell were they? He glanced over at the yokai who he had yanked through the portal with them, only to find them in an awkward slump just a few paces away, completely limp and seemingly unconscious. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” Raph demanded, moving quickly to his side. Mikey was already all bundled up in his arms, shaking like a leaf and absolutely clinging to him for dear life like he was going to fall apart if he let go. And Leo couldn’t even blame him if he did. Mikey had always been the smallest of them, and Raph always the biggest, but Leo thought dimly that the size difference between them now was fucking bananas.

Jesus christ. Raph was fucking huge. And… spiky. Was he a goddamn dinosaur? What the fuck.

“I-- yeah-- I-- I think the goatman got knocked out--” He stammered, still reeling slightly, trying to collect himself, to gather himself, adrenaline still rushing through his veins like it was a racetrack. 

Somewhere in the background, Donnie fucking screamed, and Leo immediately forgot about everything else, his head whipping around. 

“Donnie!” He cried, on his feet in a second, rushing over to his brother’s side. He had no idea where they were, not having yet taken stock of the location. He was only dimly aware that they were someplace cold and dark, with stone and concrete above, below, and around them. Donnie had pressed himself up against one of the walls, his entire body rigid and his head bent forward, his arms fluttering wildly beside his head in such a way that Leo recognized he was fighting not to hit himself. Good job, Dee. The screaming continued, but every wail that wrenched its way out of Donnie’s mouth was short and grinding, repeating itself over and over like an alarm. It was fucking terrifying. Not for him, but for Donnie, because he could tell that they were completely, totally not in control. Just panicking.

“Hey. Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m right here, Don. It’s alright. It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m right here, hermano,” he tried to soothe, forcing his voice down, calm, steady. He knew better than to touch Donnie, but he would reach over just long enough to tap a button on the side of his headphones that he knew would flip the device into white noise mode. Donnie jerked slightly in response, and the screaming stopped, at least, but he didn’t relax. His arms still fluttered and flapped anxiously, and he shifted just enough to begin rocking back and forth, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so hard that Leo was afraid he was going to hurt himself. His chest absolutely shook with the panicked, shuddering breaths he was taking, hyperventilating so hard that his entire body trembled in response.

“Come on, Donnie, it’s alright. It’s okay. We’re safe, Mikey and Raph and April are safe, we’re gonna be okay, but you’ve gotta breathe, dude. Can you try it with me? Like this? We’ve gotta calm down a little bit--” Leo pressed on because this was not his first rodeo. He wasn’t quite as adept at handling these things as their dad was, and at this point, Donnie was pretty good at avoiding meltdowns and panic attacks, armed with tools and tricks and years of therapy, but sometimes they were unavoidable and Leo had always known how to calm them down, always been able to step up and help, the same way Donnie could for him--

But Donnie wasn’t calming down. Donnie wouldn’t even look up at him. Rather, Donnie scrunched up harder, curled his lips, and fucking hissed at him.

And, okay, look, it wasn’t the first time Donnie had hissed at them. Donnie used to love to hiss at people when they were little kids, though nowadays he was more likely to express annoyance with declarations such as “groan” or “scoff” or “eye-roll.” But he didn’t hiss like this.

He sounded fucking feral. Even more than that, he sounded fucking terrified. He looked like a goddamn cornered animal, his eyes blown out and huge, the scaly skin that now made up his form stretched tight over shivering muscles and his lips drawn back over sharp, pointed teeth. And Leo looked down at his own clawed, three-fingered hand and came to a horrible realization.

He couldn’t help because Donnie couldn’t recognize him. They were panicking because they were in this crazy, fucked up body that wasn’t theirs, and Leo was in a fucked up body that wasn’t his, and looking at him was just a reminder of everything wrong. He was just scaring them more. His being here was just making things worse, and Leo’s throat tied itself in a knot, swelling up as the backs of his eyes pinched with the thought.

“April,” he called, his voice cracking slightly as he desperately turned to look for his sister. She wasn’t far off, watching from a short distance with obvious worry, and she blinked in surprise at the sound of her name.

“Help me.”

---

If Leo was being completely honest, he hadn’t even realized that Donnie wasn’t still nearby. The two of them typically stuck together like glue whenever they were at school. Leo would usually lead the way, and Donnie would trail after, with Leo doing most of the talking and socializing for both of them. And once Donnie got sick of whatever they were doing, he would simply drag Leo off to sit and read or work on some project or puzzle for a while, and Leo would oblige and keep him company. Donnie was always close by, and Leo wasn’t even aware that this wasn’t currently the case, too absorbed in his latest arts and crafts project, until he heard a telltale, high-pitched whine from across the room.

He was on his feet in seconds, abandoning the activity and his classmates to scuttle off in search of his twin brother. Luckily, he wasn’t too hard to find. Both because he was pretty loud, and also because their substitute teacher was crouched down next to him. She was nice enough, Leo thought, but not quite as cool as Miss Mitchelle was, and he wasn’t sure if Donnie liked her at all. It definitely didn’t seem like he liked her too much right now with how he was all balled up, and Leo wasted no time at all in planting himself physically between the two.

Donnie immediately gravitated towards his brother and Leo moved a bit closer in turn, giving Miss Substitute (he didn’t remember her name,) a very displeased look.

“He doesn’t like whatever you’re doing,” he declared firmly.

Miss Substitute’s expression twitched and faltered for a moment before it settled back into something patient and pleasant, though Leo still didn’t quite trust it. “Leo,” she said, “I was just trying to talk with your brother--”

“I can talk to him,” Leo assured immediately, not bothering to listen to the remainder of her sentence because he couldn’t imagine it would be all that important or interesting. He turned to face Donnie instead. “It’s okay. I can always understand him, ‘cause we have a secret twin language. We made it up. Only we can speak it,” he declared proudly, crouching down to lean in towards his brother, his arms wrapped around his knees.

Donnie was still whining a bit, curled up into a ball and shoved halfway inside of a cubby, his arms crossed protectively over his head as he rocked. And yeah, he was obviously upset, though Leo wasn’t completely sure why yet. As such, he got to work, conversing with his twin in the previously mentioned secret twin language.

… And.

Okay.

So.

They didn’t actually have a secret twin language.

But it was close enough! It wasn’t a language, per se, ‘cause it didn’t have words, just noises and chirps and trills and squeaks and babbles. But he still always got the gist of what Donnie was saying, and Donnie would get the gist of what he was saying, too, so it worked. Sooner or later, he could pretty much always get an understanding of what Donnie was meaning based on the inflection or tone of his noises, as well as calm the other down enough so that Leo could coax a couple of signs out of him, so Leo figured it was close enough to language.

Plus, the ‘language’ itself always seemed to kind of settle Donnie down when he was upset like this. Once Leo started humming and squeaking at him, Donnie gradually started to answer with his own chirps and clicks, and, little by little, Leo watched their twin’s body untense and unwind. Leo grinned, moving to sit properly by him, and Donnie moved closer, edging just a bit out of his hiding spot so he could shove himself up against Leo’s side instead, resting his head against his shoulder and settling in there, an indignant scowl still on his face.

Leo grinned, puffing out his chest a bit as he shot Miss Substitute a look. See? He told her so. He and Donnie always understood each other, no matter what, and he could always fix it when Donnie wasn’t feeling good! He was basically the best brother in the entire world. Confident that he understood the problem, he turned back to face Miss Substitute.

“He said you’re not doing the schedule right, and we’re supposed to do math right now,” he announced, crossing his arms over his chest. And he hadn’t even noticed, but Donnie was right, they did usually do math lessons during this part of the day-- not arts and crafts. “And also, he doesn’t like the paper fish we’re doing ‘cause the glue feels bad. So we gotta find something else to do,” he insisted. “‘Cause otherwise Donnie and I aren’t playing.”

Donnie nodded a tiny bit from behind him, and Leo beamed with pride. Understanding Donnie and calming him down wasn’t even that hard. He didn’t get why adults besides Dad had such a hard time with it sometimes. You really just had to listen to him. 

---

It took a while for April to calm Donnie back down, (or at least get him as calm as they possibly could be in such circumstances,) but she managed after a bit, his panicked breaths eventually dying down into something a bit more even and steady. Thank god. Mikey thought dimly to himself that he had never seen Donnie freak out so bad, but... he supposed he couldn't really blame him. 

He frowned a bit, looking down at his own, unfamiliar hands, and he curled up a bit more, his tail tucking in (oh my god, he had a tail,) as he clung to Raph's plastron (oh my god, Raph had a plastron.) And though it still held comfort, the fold of his biggest brother's arms, bundled up close and held there, this place that he had known his whole life... it suddenly felt foreign, too. Everything was hard and jagged and cold. And even worse-- it was unfamiliar. 

He kept staring at his own hands because he couldn't stop himself, and it made his stomach wobble. He wondered bleakly what his own face looked like because he had no idea. He wouldn't even recognize himself in the mirror. 

 Now that Donnie had finally settled a bit, though he was still curled up and pressed just against April's side, just barely not touching but still squeezed up small against her, Leo finally got up to his feet-- only to immediately lose his balance, falling over onto his back with a loud clunk.

"Leo!" Raph's eyes widened, his muscles immediately bunching up, ready to jump up and go grab his brother. Mikey could tell that he was just barely resisting the urge to scoop up all three of them and bundle them up in his arms and just hang onto them for a while. He had been sitting here long enough for Mikey to notice how fast his heart was beating. Mikey’s was keeping pace. Leo kind of flailed for a second before he managed to redirect the momentum to roll over onto his side, getting himself back onto his hands and knees. A wry, strangled laugh forced its way out of him.

"Alright. Well. Pro tip: center of gravity is weird now," he remarked dryly, his voice strained. "But the good news is falling doesn't even hurt anymore! So that’s great!"

It didn't get a laugh out of anyone. After a moment of hesitation, Mikey slowly wriggled his way from Raph's grip, making his way over to Leo's side. He didn't dare try to walk after watching Leo's attempt, noting that it seemed to be more difficult now without the rush of adrenaline to aid them, so he instead stayed in a crouch, sort of half-hopping-half-crawling over. Raph followed shortly after in a similar manner.

"Can I see?" He questioned softly, and when Leo didn't deny him, he leaned over slightly, moving his hoodie (which was now a very awkward fit,) out of the way enough so that he could examine the edges of his brother's new shell.

(Oh my god. His brother's shell. What kind of a sentence was that? What kind of weird, fucked up make-believe world were they suddenly in? Leo was his brother. He didn't have a shell. He had cool brown skin. He had bouncy blonde curls that Mikey had helped him bleach and dye a red streak in. He had vitiligo 'stripes' over his eyes. He had a bad habit of cycling through boyfriends and insomnia and a shockingly large vocabulary... but he didn't have a shell. He didn't have scales or stripes or claws or a tail.)

He looked anyway, running the tips of his fingers over the top of it, following the curve. He couldn't quite tell if he was feeling the texture of the shell, or just the texture of his own fingers, which were different than they had been; covered in scales, the skin thicker and rougher than it had been before. Bending his joints felt odd, and he couldn't help himself from doing it over and over, as if that might help him get used to it faster. 

 Every part of his brother’s shell was this cool, ocean blue, just edging on teal in some places, and Mikey thought to himself that, in the very least, it matched his life color perfectly. 

He swallowed hard and resisted the tears that were building up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry right now. He didn’t even know what he was crying about. Because he was scared? Because he was overwhelmed? He wasn’t very good at not crying, but he forced it down, his hands trembling a bit with the effort of it.

 "Does it look the same as mine?" He heard himself asking, his eyes flickering over to meet Leo's (which were now not something he recognized, looking more animal than person, though they still retained the same, familiar almond shape. The color, however, he realized, was slightly different. Leo's eyes were brown. All of their eyes were brown, so dark that they were almost black, but now, instead, Leo's eyes were mismatched; one of them dark blue, like water in a cove, like the sea at night, and the other dark red, like ink with blood, like black cherries.) 

"I dunno," Leo laughed, though his voice was still shaking. "I don't know what mine looks like."

"They're... kinda the same…" Raph observed from nearby, leaning over slightly to examine them both. His voice sounded kind of hollow, like he wasn’t really there. Sort of far-off. "I mean. The parts I can see. Mikey, yours is more... orangey. And bumpier," he said. "And yours is spotty. Leo's is kinda... stripey." 

"Yours is huge," Leo observed with a chuckle, glancing over at their biggest brother, who was always the tallest and largest by a wide margin, but now absolutely dwarfed the rest of them. "And... spiky. You're all spiky. And… and fucking huge, dude. You look like you have fucking paws. And your mouth is all..." He laughed again, scrubbing anxiously at his face with his hands. "You look like a fucking snapping turtle."

Mikey paused a bit at that, glancing over at the other.

Donnie must have said or signed something that the rest of them didn’t catch, because April spoke up next, clearly addressing him. "Uhm, no, yours is... uh. It's kind of flat? And..." There was a pause. "Oh, oh my god, it's, like, squishy!" She squealed, everyone else in the room jumping in response, before she tamped down the noise, biting her lip and getting a handle on her reaction. "Sorry! Sorry, I just. I just wasn't expecting that texture, that's all! It doesn't... feel like what I thought a shell would feel like, I guess."

"Are we different kinds of... turtles?" Mikey questioned, tilting his head to the side. He wanted to laugh at himself when he said turtles. I mean, seriously, turtles? Of all the creatures in the world, turtles? Why were they turtles?

"I guess we must be," Leo sighed, resting his chin on his knee. "We obviously look different." 

Mikey frowned, and he thought that his lips might be trembling if he had proper lips anymore, but he wasn't sure if he did or if they could tremble or what that would feel like if they did. Okay, fine. Now there were a few tears. 

"Does that mean we're not brothers?" 

A beat of silence followed.

"We're not," Donnie said, and quite frankly, Mikey was surprised to hear him speaking. Small miracles? Kinda…?

"Yeah, we are. Don't be crazy," Raph immediately refuted, his brows (er... brows? Place where brows once were?) furrowing together, and Mikey was desperately relieved to see that the space in between still wrinkled into a crease the same way they always did. "Of course we're brothers."

"Evidently, we're not even the same species," Donnie hissed out bitterly, drawing himself up even closer, even smaller, into a little ball. "It's literally impossible."

"Come on, Dee--"

"We're not even human!" Donnie snapped, hunching up his shoulders. "We're not even people!"

"Hey, look, come on you guys," April tried to soothe, holding up her hands as if to calm the group. "It doesn't matter if you're turtles! It doesn't matter to me. I love you guys no matter what--"

"Oh, wow, what a comfort!" Donnie scoffed, and April bristled.

"Okay, look, I am trying to be helpful! I know that this fucking sucks but you do not need to take out your nasty attitude on me!"

Leo suddenly laughed-- loudly, painfully-- tilting his head back and letting his shoulders slump so he could stare up at the ceiling. "Oh my god. Jesus christ. We're not people," he bit out in between his barely restrained hysterics, squeezing his eyes shut. "We're freaks, dude!"

"Leo, c'mon." 

"We're not even people!!!" He repeated. "Fuck. We never even had a chance, and we didn't even know it!... Oh my god, we’re such morons!!! Hahaha-- welp! This is it! Pack it in, boys, it’s all over!"

"Leo, chill. What are you even talkin’ about?"

"Did you know I was gonna go on T?" He questioned, turning around sharply, suddenly, to face Raph. "Me and Dad were talking about it. For, like, a while now. And I was gonna start T, finally. Do you know how much I wanted to do that? Do you know how long I've been waiting to get to do that?"

Raph frowned. "Leo... This doesn't mean--"

"How the fuck is that going to work now!?" He interrupted. "How is anything gonna work now? We're fucking! REPTILES! Raph!!!"

"I KNOW THAT!" Now Raph was yelling, too, and Mikey flinched a bit, hiccuping softly as he drew himself down, retreating slightly, halfway into his shell (oh my god, he can do that now?) "You think you're the only one who was lookin' forward to stuff? I was--" He cut himself off, breathing in deep and then letting it out slow, his jaw tensed.

"Look. I know this... sucks. But it's not gonna help to just throw in the towel right now and mourn shit that we don't even know is gone yet, alright? We'll... figure it out," he said. "We don’t even know what’s goin’ on, so let’s just… let's just try to figure it out first. Okay?" 

Leo frowned. He looked down and to the side, tightening his hands into fists, but he didn't have any rebuttal. After a moment, he took a deep breath, pulling himself up to his feet for a second time. He tottered for a moment, his arms windmilling until he found his balance and this time he stayed on his feet. He looked around the room for a moment before his eyes fell on the limp form of Baron Draxum, still crumpled in a heap some odd paces away.

"What do we do with that guy?"

All of their eyes snapped over, as though they had all just remembered that he was there in the first place.

"Did you knock him out, dude?!" Raph questioned, his eyes widening slightly. 

"No! I mean. I don't think so. Not exactly," Leo said. "It's, like-- he grabbed me and some sort of mystic-magic-whatever thing happened. He lit up with a bunch of symbols and he just... went down. I dunno what happened." 

"Well," Raph said, sighing deeply before he pulled himself to his feet as well, doing a similar rock and wobble to Leo before he figured out the new balance he had to strike, correcting his own footing. His long tail swung back and forth behind him, assumedly on instinct, to help. "We dunno how long he's gonna stay down, so we oughta find a way out of here and put some distance between us and him ASAP. We already know where Dad is, anyway."

"Maybe we can figure out where we are," Donnie mumbled bleakly, pulling himself to his feet as well. He seemed to struggle much less than his brothers did, and Mikey noted that his back rounded less than theirs. April got up as well, sticking close to his side, but perhaps hovering a bit less now. 

Mikey watched as his family rose up, one by one, finding their feet again. And something in his chest unwound and loosened again. A breath he hadn't realized he had been holding came tumbling out of him.

He didn't know his own face anymore. And he didn't recognize his brothers when he looked at them.

But they were still them. Already, Mikey was completely sure of it. And the change, while still terrifying, felt just a tiny bit less devastating. 

He hadn’t lost them yet.

Bracing himself for the coming challenge, he rose up to his feet as well. The unfamiliar weight on his back was more than he had expected and attempted to drag him down, and he stumbled slightly, nearly toppling over onto his back the same way Leo had the first time-- but Raph grabbed his wrist before he could, pulling him forward and correcting him, and Mikey was relieved to find his center of gravity once more. Usually, he would complain about his big brother stepping in, preferring to do things on his own rather than being 'babied' by his older family members, but...

 Right now, it was actually okay. 

"Okay. Let's do this." 

(They took about three steps before Raph yelped and tripped over his own tail.)

---

Though they had tied up the so-called "Baron Draxum" with whatever rope and other scrap they could find in this place, (the longer they were here, the more Donnie began to suspect it was a lab of some kind,) none of them were very confident that it would be able to hold him for very long, if at all, and so they all got to work trying to figure out an exit. But to call this place 'maze-like' was a bit of an understatement.

"This is the worst landmark ever," April hissed in frustration as they turned a corner, only to once again be met with a hog-tied yokai, face-down on the concrete. "We keep going in circles!"

"Okay, look," Donnie sighed. "I know we don't want to linger here any more than we have to, but let's look around a bit and see if there's anything useful lying around to get us out of here. Clearly just walking out isn't getting us anywhere." 

There was a chorus of grunts and mumbles of agreement from the rest of his family, and the group slowly fanned out, beginning their search. It was dark here, wherever they were. The ground beneath his feet was cold, with him and his brothers having already ditched and stowed their sneakers and boots after realizing how awkward and painful it was to walk in them with their new wide, two-toed feet. 

The space was wide and almost circular, with various tunnels branching off at different levels, all leading away to who-knew-where. Several desks and tables were scattered about the space, each surface covered in everything from charts to pipettes to oddly-shaped jars filled with oddly-colored substances. Donnie just barely resisted the urge to sit down and start working, or to begin snatching and pocketing things as he found them. Instead, he took a liberal amount of photographs of everything they found on his phone.

 His impulse control could only get him so far, however, and his eyes narrowed as they fell across a small, purpley-pink gem that lay on the desk, suspended within a small glass case. This certainly looked interesting... Geology wasn't really a passion of his, but something about this just seemed... intriguing. He couldn't quite place it...

 Surely no one would miss this, right? It was small! It would be silly not to take it, quite frankly, and he slipped it into his pocket as quietly as he could when he was sure no one else was looking. 

Now, if only he could find some blueprints of the tunnels... But that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

"So," Mikey said after a minute or so of them searching, and Donnie sighed internally. Of course, they couldn't expect him to stay quiet for that long. "If Raph is a snapping turtle, and me and Leo are turtle-turtles, then what kind of a turtle is Donnie?"

Donnie rolled his eyes, scowling. "Okay, well, first of all, do we really have to discuss this?" He hissed, immediately bristling. "I’d highly prefer we not address the proverbial elephant in the room, thank you! Second of all, 'turtle-turtle' is not a species."

"Yeah, but, like, we have turtle shells!" Mikey explained. "But April said yours is squishy. So what does that make you?"

Donnie sighed deeply. Talking about this made his skin itch.

"A softshell turtle, I suppose."

"A softshell?" Leo questioned, raising a brow. "That's a thing?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that off the top of your head?" Raph questioned.

"Some of us actually paid attention during biology classes," he responded dryly. And having a near-photographic memory did, admittedly, help as well…

"Whoa!" Mikey absolutely beamed. "That's so cool! Now we just gotta figure out what kind of turtles me and Leo are!"

"Well, I'd look it up if we had any service. And also if it was even close to being an appropriate time for us to waste our efforts on something like that," Donnie said with a roll of his eyes. He knew that Mikey was just distracting himself, finding a silver lining so he didn’t break down, but Donnie didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about how much of their entire lives was completely fabricated, about how--

He snorted, suddenly doubling over with laughter.

"What?" April questioned, raising a brow.

"I just-- I just realized!" Donnie laughed. "Our... our moms must be turtles! Fucking turtles!"

There was a beat of silence as this sunk in before Raph gave a similar reaction. "Damn! I guess you're right, huh?"

"Do you have any idea how much time I wasted in therapy talking about this?" Donnie squeaked out through giggles. "I spent so much time with Mossy talking about our mom and how she didn't want us or whatever the fuck and about the stuff she did to Dad and how I couldn't remember her, and she-- she was never even real! None of that ever even happened! She was just a fucking turtle, wasn't she!? We don’t even have a real mom!"

"Whoa! Mind... blown. I didn't even think about that..." Mikey gaped, his eyes wide. "This whole time I just assumed that our mom was probably the hotel lady..."

"Yeah, me too," Leo agreed.

Donnie blinked.

"You what?"

"Well, you know, that woman that Dad was datin’ right before he disappeared," Raph said. "And she runs the Grand Nexus Hotel, right? All the articles I ever read always mentioned her."

Donnie's eyes twitched. "You thought she was our mother?" He questioned.

"Well, that's who Dad was datin’ last! And for a long time, too. It'd make sense, wouldn't it?" Raph defended.

"Yeah. You didn't think that?" Leo said.

"NO! Why would I think that?!" Donnie was laughing again.

Leo huffed in offense, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, do you know something we don't?"

"Apparently!" Donnie exclaimed. "Guys, you've seen pictures of her, right?!"

"Well, yeah?" Mikey tilted his head to the side.

"She's pale as fuck!"

"So?"

"And our Dad is Japanese!"

"And? Donnie, what's your point?"

"We're black!"

"... Ooooohhhhh," all three of his brothers said, nearly in unison, after Donnie's argument finally sunk in.

"Oh my god," Donnie laughed, covering his face with his hands, scrubbing tears from his eyes. "You're all so fucking dumb..."

"I guess our mom would have had to be black. I mean. We got the Japanese half from Dad, but... I never really thought about where the other half came from..." Raph admitted, his mouth still slightly agape like he was still rolling the thought about in his head. 

"Wait a minute," April said, her hands on her hips. "I mean, yeah, all that makes sense, but if you guys have secretly been turtles this whole time, then why are you black?"

"Dude, are all turtles black?" Mikey questioned, his eyes widening.

"I cannot discuss this any further. I'll get a migraine and furthermore cease to function, as I am, and I cannot stress this enough, just barely suppressing the gravity of this whole situation right now," Donnie sighed, gesturing to himself as he turned back to the desk in front of him. "Did anyone find anything yet?"

"Not yet," April sighed, shuffling through some papers. "What even is all this junk?"

"I'm not sure. Some sort of research, it seems like..." Donnie mused, sort of thumbing through a book as he spoke, reading key phrases and chunks of text as quickly as he could and making mental notes so he could refer back to it later. He was more than happy to have something else to focus on, though this would admittedly be a lot easier with human hands. "But I'm still not sure where--"

Shhhh shhhh.

Donnie paused mid-sentence, his brows furrowed. He hadn't noticed that sound before now. He tilted his head a bit to the side, turning in its direction, trying to zero in.

"... Donnie?"

"What's that noise?" He questioned aloud, though his voice was barely above a whisper.

Shhhh shhhhh.

He knew that noise. He recognized it. Where had he heard it before?

Shhhh shhhhh.

... Water, he realized with a start. The noise was running water. Of course. How had he never realized this before?...

That's what he was hearing. That's what he had heard.

"Dee? You good?"

"Guys," he said, turning just enough to glance over in their direction. His face suddenly felt like glass. It was odd. "I think... I think we're in the sewer," he said. "... And I think we've been here before...?"

Before anyone could say anything further, a new noise filled up the space.

Skrrrtttccchhhhh.

---

"What was that?!" Mikey shrieked, immediately leaping behind his biggest brother to hide. Leo and Donnie were instantly gravitating to each other as well, falling into stance on instinct as they stood back to back, each covering the other. 

"It sounds like something scratching," April said thoughtfully, and true to her word, the same skritching noise clawed its way through the air a moment later, echoing slightly against the walls. "I think it's coming from over here!"

"April!" Raph hissed off a protest as she took off, heading in the direction of the sound. "We don't know what that is!"

"We will if we go look!" She chirped in reply. I mean, come on, what was the benefit of hiding over here instead of investigating? Weren't they curious either way? Besides, they were stuck here regardless-- maybe they'd find something helpful.

The noise continued as April searched, peering around corners and down tunnels, until, finally, she found her prize. Tucked inside one of the off-shoot tunnels, one of the many dead-ends that seemed to surround this space, was a proverbial treasure trove. A variety of odds and ends filled the space; various amulets and scrolls and chests and even weapons were leaned up against the wall or stacked up on the ground. In fact, a lot of weapons were in here. Was this some kind of a weird armory? Or a trophy room? What kind of sewer has a trophy room?

But most interestingly, she found the source of the noise. Inside a small, dimly lit orb, looking as though it were made of some sort of glass, or perhaps even light, was one of the oddest creatures April had ever seen, clawing sadly at the surface of its prison. It had ears like a chihuahua, pointed and too big for its head, with tufts of fur poofing out from inside, but huge eyes like some kind of a cat. Pointed tusks stuck from its mouth like a boar, but soft, downy yellow-and-blue fur covered its entire, squirrel-like body, complete with a fluffy, wriggly tail.

"AW, you guyyssss!" She called out. "Come look! It's cute!"

"April!" The guys were right behind her, with Raph leading the charge. "You can't just run off like-- jumpin' jack flash! What the heck is that thing?!"

"I dunno!" April said with a shrug, immediately making her way into the room, scooping up the orb so she could examine it, looking for a way to open it up. The little critter inside pattered about excitedly, its claws clicking against the smooth surface. "Help me figure out how to get him outta here."

"Are you sure about that?" Leo questioned. "No offense, but we have nooo idea what that thing is! Maybe it's, I dunno, locked up for a reason?"

"What? C'mon, guys, we've gotta help!" Mikey protested, turning on them with big, pleading eyes. Nice, April thought, with Mikey on her side she had basically already won. Suck it, middle children. "Plus, he was locked up by Draxum. So he can't be bad!"

"Yeah! Ever heard ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’" April added in.

"I'm not convinced," Donnie said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean, has anyone else noticed that pretty much everything else in this room is a weapon of some kind? Isn't that maybe a bit telling?"

"Aw, come on, Dee. Look at this face!" April insisted, holding up the orb to the others. The creature, to their credit, played their part, pulling an absolutely pitiful face which Mikey immediately echoed, turning to his brothers with watery eyes. 

Checkmate.

"Okay, okay, fine. Look, there's gotta be something in here that can help us bust him out..." Leo muttered, beginning to pick his way through the contents of the room with Raph, Donnie, and Mikey following suit shortly after. 

"Here, what about these?" Leo said after a moment, turning to face them with a pair of twin katanas in hand. "Think I could slice that bad boy open with these guys?"

April scoffed, clutching the orb close to her chest. "Uhm, and this guy in half, maybe!" She protested. "Can we try something a little less deadly, please?"

"Aw, come on! These are cool," Leo protested, grinning as he twirled them in his hands with a metallic shwing.

"You just like them because you always win at any swordsmanship event at tournaments," Donnie remarked dryly, grabbing a long wooden staff to hold in his hands, testing the weight of it. "... That being said, should we maybe grab some of these just in case?"

"Whaddya mean?" Raph glanced over at the other.

"Well, we haven't even made it to the Hidden City yet, and we've already been attacked once," Donnie reasoned, placing a hand on his hip and frowning. "So it wouldn't exactly be a bad idea to have some weapons on hand in case of an emergency." He spun the bo staff in his hands appraisingly a few times. "I mean, obviously this is a bit underwhelming, but I'm sure I could make some improvements once we got back home..."

"Sounds like a good plan to me! Look at all the stuff they’ve got!” Mikey cheered, immediately diving in, beginning to sort through all the various options they had in the room. He chuckled darkly, swinging a pair of nun-chucks in his hands. “These’ll do…”

“Yo, guys!” Raph called, waving to get his brothers’ attention before pointing to the very far corner of the room. “If we’re gonna take stuff, why don’t we take the glowy ones?”

There was, in fact, a weapons rack filled with floating, vaguely glowing weapons, tucked away in the shadows, which only made the glow all that much more tempting. They were simply begging to be taken.

Mikey and Leo, almost in unison, gasped, their faces absolutely lighting up as they raced over to join Raph. “Ooh, dibs on the sword!” Leo cheered, immediately snatching up the odachi and repeatedly striking poses.

“Hot soup! Check me out!” Mikey snatched up a bright orange kusari-fundo, absolutely beaming ear-to-ear. Raph was nearly drooling as he laid his claim on a pair of tonfas, beaming as he gave a few experimental swings. 

“They’re perfect! No one’ll mess with us now!”

“What about you, Donnie?” April questioned, tilting her head back to glance at the remaining brother. “Don’t you want a glowy weapon?”

“And add yet another unknown, uncontrolled variable to our current situation? I’m good,” Donnie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’ve trained with a regular, wooden bo staff. I’ll fight with a wooden bo staff, thank you very much. You all have fun with your likely-radioactive weaponry,” he said, waving them off. 

“Here, April, I got something for you, too,” Mikey chirped excitedly, scampering over to present his find to her. “Ta-da!!! Baseball bat!”

It wasn’t a baseball bat-- it was a club. But close enough! April gasped in delight. “It’s perfect!” She enthused, immediately snatching it up, rolling it around in her hands and tapping it against the side of her shoe a few times. Ooh, and the weight was perfect, too. “And I think it can help us get little guy out of this ball thingie, too! Leo, come hold it still for me!”

 "Aw man, why do I gotta hold it?" Leo muttered in complaint but did as he was told regardless, kneeling down to hold the orb steady, taking care in the placement of his hands to minimize the chances of broken fingers.

 "Alright," April said, backing up a bit, her tongue sticking out from between her lips with focus. "This won't hurt a bit..." 

She swung the club back, taking care to temper her strength, and brought it down on the little ball prison with a satisfying crunch. 

"Did it work?" Mikey gasped, his eyes wide as he leaned over. The orb was not shattered nor laying in pieces; but the side of it had caved in considerably, a spiderweb of cracks blossoming from it, and a second later, it simply dissolved as if it had never been there in the first place. The creature that had previously been trapped inside cracked one eye open, having squeezed itself into the very back of its cage, flinching at the oncoming impact, gave an absolute trill of excitement, darting about in celebration.

"There we go!" April said, grinning wide, her hands planted on her hips. "See, told ya I'd get you outta there! That's better, right?"

The little yellow beast threw itself into her lap, wriggling with joy and nuzzling at her with an enthusiastic wag of its tail. "Okay, okay! You're welcome!" April laughed, giggling as she allowed the creature to clamber about in her arms, allowing it time to bounce about before it finally began to settle again.

"Any chance you know how to get out of here, little guy?"

---

Raph looked up from his phone and his tea at the sound of mail plopping down on the table, glancing over to examine the letters his father had just tossed over in his direction.

"For you," Dad remarked, sorting through the remaining mail from the day.

"For me?" Raph echoed, his brows rising up. "Who the heck is sending me mail?" Curiosity took hold immediately, and he abandoned the wrestling video he had been watching previously in favor of tearing open the letters on the table.

He was surprised to find college brochures inside. His father, however, did not seem all that surprised at all, even adding a couple more to the pile.

"It seems you are in high demand," Dad teased, smiling the tiniest bit. "I have received a few emails as well from recruiters recently."

Raph paused for a moment, rolling this idea about in his brain, trying to figure out what it meant and what it tasted like before he forced a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Guess they haven't seen my grades yet," he joked weakly. Dad hummed softly, pulling up a chair so he could sit down next to his eldest son.

"Nonsense," he scoffed. "Your grades are fine, Raphael. You've simply tricked yourself into thinking they're not by comparing yourself to others," he added, giving the other a knowing look. "And besides that, this is hardly the only thing that matters. I have told you many times that grades aren't everything. My grades in high school were terrible!" He remarked with a laugh. "And your career in sports is very impressive."

"I guess," Raph said, wrinkling his nose up a bit as he leaned over the table. Easy for him to say. He had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of colleges being interested in him when his three younger brothers were right here in the same damn house! Had they really meant to send these to Hamato Raphael?

Dad's hand moved to rub little circles into his back, and he nudged his son's teacup a bit. Raph agreeably took a sip, allowing the warm liquid to trickle down through his chest.

"I know you have not always enjoyed schoolwork, Raphael," Dad finally spoke again. "But you are not stupid. You may very well have the most common sense of any of my children!" He chuckled. "And you have many talents besides that. You are a remarkable athlete, and I know I do not have to drag you over to the trophy wall to prove this to you, but I will if I have to. You are only sixteen and you are already the captain of multiple sports teams... not just anyone could handle that! It is difficult to lead a team. But you have always handled this with grace. And teaching children! That is a talent in and of itself. That is no easy task. Trust me, I know," he said, smiling slightly. "But you are doing so well with your new job. And I am very proud of you."

 Raphael glanced over at his father, for just a moment, hesitating like he wanted to say something, but then biting it back.

"You don't have to go to college if you don't want to," Dad added. "If you decide that is not the path for you, that is fine. I won't be upset or disappointed. I did not go to college, either! But I would hate for you to not even consider it just because you don't think you're good enough for it," he pressed. "I know you've always said you intend to pursue a career in sports of some kind, but this is very much an avenue to achieve that if you'd like. Many professional athletes get their start through college sports, you know. And I can already name half a dozen universities off the top of my head who would be thrilled to have you on their team in a couple of years!"

He sighed softly.

"But you do not have to decide right now, my son. There is still plenty of time for you to consider all of your options."

Raph glanced over at his father, shifting a bit in his seat, before looking to the side.

"Uh. I dunno, Pops. I mean. I'm not good at tests and all that junk. I mean. College football could be good 'n all, but, uh..."

He hesitated a second, sort of scratching the side of his jaw, hesitating a bit. "I dunno. Maybe I could... I mean. We could look at it, at least. I was kind of wonderin’ about, uh. I dunno… Just, lately, I was thinkin' about... studyin' early childhood education, maybe?..."

[ next ]

[piratefishmama]

Crossing the Line | Part 2

For Eddie Munson, it started with a tweet. A random little tweet in his mentions that ignited his incredibly hard to control impulsive curiosity. One of his long-time followers and his best friends little brother, a boy with a love of DnD who only begrudgingly followed him after he recorded one of his campaign sessions and posted it to YouTube, pinged him a mention with a single link in it to Instagram captioned “roast him he’s ruined Crazy Train!”

Michael Wheeler you little shit. He’d get Nancy on that one, Mike’s obsession with roasting people was getting mildly out of hand.

But Eddie was a curious soul and someone had apparently ruined an Ozzy masterpiece, so of course he followed that link, he didn’t even hesitate, even let out a cute little “boop” out loud as he clicked it.

Now. Eddie Munson, could have probably been classed as a bit of a music snob. He wouldn’t go too far with his snobbery, but for some people... it was just an unwritten rule that some people deserved the snobbery to the max. They deserved the shit storm that came with Eddie’s brutal honesty and lack of verbal filter.

And Nepo-babies with nothing better to do than *fix* legendary metal tracks with their top 10 bubblegum bitch bullshittery were 100% deserving of the roasting his bitchiest of little sheep had called for.

Did he go a little overboard over the following week while bored shitless in between customers at his shitty non-chain coffee shop gig? Absolutely. Did he feel bad? Absolutely not. It’d taken him all of five minutes to decide Steve Harrington was the worst.

Even if the nepo baby thing wasn’t enough, he was spotted with a different piece of arm candy every month, he had girls and guys falling all over themselves to get a glimpse from him in their general direction, like, there were articles about fights breaking out in the audience of his shows because fans couldn’t decide which one of them he looked at. He lived in some fancy ass house if his insta photos were anything to go by which no doubt his parents bought for him, he did way too many PR stunts to make it seem like he was a good guy, and while his voice was… okay, it wasn’t bad… passable, it was passable…

It sure as fuck needed to stay in its own goddamn lane.

So, the boredom in between the rare rush thanks to the Starbucks down the street was filled with what could only be described as obsessive online bullying, his ADHD hyper fixated so hard, but no way was he even going to notice it, so Eddie didn’t even feel bad about it. The guy had so many people falling all over themselves in hopes he’d notice them that his measly little insults would probably wind up just buried in the sea of hormones and the occasional desperate “COME TO BRAZIL” hashtag Brazilian flag and several thousand heart emojis.

And just as a fun little topper on the ice cream sundae that was his weeklong bitchfit into the void, a lovely little cherry on top, he covered Crazy Train on his channel. Not just the guitar bits, but he made chords and tabs for the lyrics too, letting his sweetheart sing for him, he never sang on his channel, vocals were just for the band gigs, his channel was primarily game music covers but this one, this one he declared “This is what it’s supposed to sound like” in the intro then rocked it.

Eddie was all about freedom of musical expression, but Steve Harrington could go suck a fat one if he thought he was getting away with ruining a masterpiece with his croony bullshit.

“So” The week after he’d finally put his one sided feud to rest, found one Nancy Wheeler, the instigators older sister sidling up to the counter mid-way through the most boring Sunday shift Eddie had ever worked in his life.

“Wheeleeerr, my sister from the most boring of misters, what can I get you babydoll?” He didn’t even need to ask, and she didn’t actually need to say it, he was already halfway through making her fancy little favourite, a cinnamon hazelnut latte with soy milk knowing she probably only had five minutes before she’d have to bolt again.

“Eddie… why have you spent the better part of a week harassing a celebrity on Instagram?”

“I think you mean an entire week, your little brother released the dogs of war. Aaaand the ADHD told me to do it.” He grabbed one of the little honey buns from the treats display and popped it onto a plate for her “forgive me honey bun?” A pet name AND a treat combined. She rolled her eyes fondly before accepting the free treat. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” There was absolutely a reason, but… honestly he brought whatever was coming to him upon himself. Sort of. She'd stand in his corner if shit got real. “I’ll handle Mike, don’t harass celebrities until you’re actually a celebrity, and even then, don’t harass celebrities.”

“It’s not like he’d notice, let’s be honest he has more fans than there are stars in the sky, all of them, and I do mean all of them, fully up for bearing his children.” Seahorse dads in the house! But also, mpreg too, ass babies unite. “It’s not like some rando having a questionably obsessive and lowkey aggressive meltdown over his ‘I’m bored as shit’ experiment would ever grace his radar.”

“I’m just saying Eddie, you never know who you’re going to reach with your online nonsense, if you ever want to get out of this place, you’re going to have to play nice with people from all walks of life, including nepotism babies.” The bark of laughter that erupted from Eddie Munson would have probably insulted most people, but Nancy had known him for years. He was listening, he was, there were just layers upon layers of automatic reactions to get through before he’d visibly take in what you were saying. “He could be nice, you never know.”

“Oh yeah, his royal highness seems lovely. Did you know people used to call him King Steve?” Seemed like the worst person on the planet masquerading as a semi-decent guy. Eddie wasn’t fooled in the slightest. “Your drink, mademoiselle!” He presented her with a large to-go cup filled with her favourite beverage.

“Don’t you have some odd little moniker on your youtube channel?” She asked behind the lip of her cup, before taking a sip and humming in appreciation. Even if he was a little shit, Eddie could make a mean latte.

“That’s a persona, it’s an online personality! People calling me Kas is different, people just called him that cause of how much ass he got. It’s weird, I bet he started it himself and paid his cronies to use it until it caught on.” That was good, maybe he’d pick his feud back up just to lay that one on him. “Seems very nepo baby of him, y’know? Can’t get a good nickname circling so he’s gotta buy one.”

“Wouldn’t his parents have bought it for him?”

“Ohhhh Wheeler good one! Nice nickname, did your daddy buy it for you? Babe, sugar plum, I love you. Imma write that one down for later.”

“Please don’t.” He was already off, and she caught sight of her smartwatch beeping about some meeting she was close to being late for. “Shoot! Gotta run, no more harassing celebrities!”

“I promise nothing!” Ah well, it probably wasn’t that big of a deal that Steve Harrington’s best friend had DM’d her, probably not a big deal at all, probably meant nothing... probably.

Part 4

[modelbus]

eyup model!! Hru?? Hope all is well… but lets get to the important shit, THATS RIGHT! ITS ME, YOUR SELF PROCLAIMED FAVOURITE ANNON, ✨🌌🌙!!! Y’know, the one that writes SUPER detailed, SUPER long and SUPER off-topic-for-the-first-half requests!!!! (If I keep this up for long enough, you’re gonna have to add a ✨🌌🌙 Annon section to your master list. /hj)

that makes me think about when I first requested, I wonder how long its been.. I THINK my first req was Cut Chaos.. one sec lemme check………

AYE IN 4(ish) MONTHS IT’LL BE A YEAR SINCE I STARTED HARASSING YOU WITH MY THINK OF BRAINS!

been a while.. I’ll need to remember to write a DUMB request in june.

SO. REQUEST. YES. I DO THAT? I DO THAT.

okay so idk how to format this but here,

She/Her pronouns for plot. y/n is honestly, REALLY bad at pvp, she’s know amongst the SBI for being.. a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but the wolf has no teeth. She likes flowers, pastel pinks, purples, and blues, she likes cottage core dresses and corsets.. So on the surface she looks like a pretty, little, innocent streamer!… yeah, no. Sure, shes pretty as fuck, but little? She is SURPRISINGLY TALL. half the fan base is fully convinced EVERY photo shes in is photo shopped, but sure enough, shes 6’4! Innocent? Say the words ‘Arson’ ‘Crime’ or ‘Manslaughter’, and you practically summon her. (Every SMP she has been on, has in-fact seen not only her enemy’s but HER OWN, Builds being blown up and/or burnt to the ground AT LEAST, 3 times.) shes also know for her ADORABLE builds (shame half of them end in ash..), her parkour skills.. and uh.. being complete garbage at anything pvp.

Well twitter being twitter, a lot of sexist 12 year old boys, and Andrew tate fans like to be.. REALLY creepy and all ‘perfect house wife’ about her. (You get the gist no more detail needed.) While they may not know it(they ignore it/pretend its fake), she’s actually quite strong in real life, often picking up her friends in irl streams and running away with them as a bit (with consent ofc)! But in minecraft, that doesn’t really show.. so naturally being the absolute fucking queen she is, about a year ‘n a half ago, she decided she was gonna be fucking great at pvp. Naturally not telling anyone but techno (so he could teach her, duh) and avoiding all pvp for a year, lead to people joking about it more often.. this didn’t bother her, it was actually perfect, she had been getting better. Like really. Danm. Better. Practicing even without techno and on an alt, and at this point? It felt natural to be disappointed at a 25 win streak.. she went from 0 to about 30-40 average win streaks.. in a year and a half.. she was dedicated, okay? Her fans did notice her getting a little rusty at parkour but they just assumed she had been to busy to practice as much.. they were right but not about what she was busy doing.. So, she obviously invited the sbi, and a few other friends (Tubbo, Ranboo and Dream.) to play a custom pvp themed game, with the stream titled ‘I haven’t pvp-ed in a year and a half, and now I’m doing it again.’ where they were split into two rounds, (y/n and techno being in both but the rest in one) all in hardcore and spawned on opposite sides of the map, having 30 minutes to gear up, before pvp was turned on, and no going to the end, no other rules than one hour to be the last one standing, they could team, they could camp, they could use tnt minecrarts, they could go to the nether, anything. it was all game.

only two people expected her to crush almost everyone. I’m not even sure if those two people were expecting her to come second one round, and WIN the other.. but with her getting half the kills in round one and losing to techno in a final battle where she held her fucking ground like a boss ass mother fucker, and winning after techno killed Dream and she ambushed him after using a god apple..

lets just say after a couple things trending, a lot of fanart and A LOT of sapphic women going crazy, nobody dared to question her dedication to proving she was a fucking force to be reckoned with again.

(It also became a very popular running joke that she got more women than any other Minecraft CC.. you don’t gotta include that just- just make it cannon.. oops, dropped my gay onto the request lemme fetch that rq..) (yes, I wrote this y/n as my fuckin dream girl, I’m a simp okay..)

haha.. ha.. BRO AT THIS POINT I’M JUST WRITING A FIC AND TELLING YOU TO RE-WRITE IT BUT MAKE IT GOOD I- feel free to change what ever, the top half is mostly just context- even if you don’t do this request you should reply to it so its not lost to the void- I.. I’m sorry man I keep doing this to you-

OH WELL JUST PRETEND THIS IS WAY SHORTER THAN IT IS OR IGNORE IT IDC EITHER WAY HOPE THIS GIVES YA INSPO POOKIE (the pookie was ironic I swear-) - ✨🌌🌙 Annon

For our one year anniversary I’ll make a special section of my master list just for you bbg <3 also don’t judge me for this title I was STRUGGLING

Pairing: what the fuck anymore Actual pairing: Fem!Reader x Cc!Phil, Cc!Tommy, Cc!Technoblade, Cc!Dream, Cc!Tubbo, Cc!Ranboo

Flower Power

You were pretty happy with who you were. A badass woman who just so happened to be the epitome of flower power? Hell yeah.

Fairy lights twinkle in the background of your setup, a wall full of vines and LED signs providing extra ambience. That’s not to mention the special keyboard—resin flower keycaps, they were on sale okay—alongside your setup in general. Even your mic had cute animal stickers on it. Well, except for the one Tommy gave you of his face? It was weird.

Right now, though, you aren’t at your cute setup. No matter how much you loved it, you were at least aware that you couldn’t send every waking moment at it. You weren’t quite that much of a content machine.

So of course you go outside to film vlogs with Tommy! Totally reasonable break from filming content: film more content!

Jokes aside, you loved hanging out with your friends. Getting dressed up just for Tommy to inevitably ruin it was practically your good luck ritual. The sheer number of skirts, shawls, and even socks he owes you is astronomical.

Today he had promised nothing messy (for once), so you took your chance. Pale blue corset embroidered with flowers and a flowy white skirt, you were practically screaming your aesthetic to anyone who looked at you. And Ranboo had given you a dandelion for your hair, which only added to it.

”Tall fuckers to the back for the photo!” Tommy shouts, and the poor bystander he roped into taking the photo stares. “Which obviously means me—“

“Get your short ass back in front.” You order, snagging his shoulders and forcing him in front of you. From your side, Ranboo snickers.

“Welcome to the club, king.” Tubbo tells Tommy before grinning at the camera.

“What the fuck.” He grumbles. “She’s hardly any taller than me!”

“Keep lying to yourself.” You put your elbow on his head, just to add insult to injury.

“Um, I got the photo I think.” The stranger says, holding Tommy’s phone out to him. He takes it without even looking at the photos.

“Thanks.” He says after you clear your throat pointedly to prompt him.

Seeing their chance to escape, the person just nods and hurries off without a single glance back. Probably glad to be rid of your wayward group of streamers and YouTubers.

“It’s a decent photo.” Tommy begrudgingly admits.

“It’s my cue to leave, actually. I’ve got plans.” Tubbo says, checking his phone.

“Why do you get more bitches than me?” Tommy whines.

“…it’s my mother.”

“And we all know I get the most bitches.” You jump in, high-fiving Ranboo blindly. You nearly hit his face, but that’s okay. It would’ve been funny.

“Oh shut the fuck up.” Tommy elbows you, all gangly limbs and pointy bones. “We’re playing Minecraft later, right?”

“Not me.” Tubbo reminds him.

“No shit. I was talking to these two idiots.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll be on.” You lean over him, looking at his phone for the time. “You’re aware we need to leave if we want to make your stupid fucking steam time?”

He looks down, eyes widening. “Oh shit!”

Just for making you run home, you blow up his house on Minecraft. For the fourth time. It was ugly looking anyway, nothing like your adorable mushroom house, so he was practically begging for it to be exploded.

It’s his fault. Always.

-

“You really want to attack me from there?”

Your hands freeze on your keyboard mid-movement, making your character in game also freeze at Techno’s words.

“Not anymore?” You laugh nervously.

“Right answer. Try this again and I’ll pretend like I don’t see you.”

PvP training was going great, and by that you mean you’ve been killed every single time by one swing of his axe. It was no secret that you were bad at fighting. Your go-to tactic was to load up on TnT and hope for the best, which met… many criticisms.

And you were sick and tired of it. It’s time to reinstate your badass reputation and become a ruthless killer in a video game. Innocent bedwars players would never know what hit them! Hopefully, at least. Right now, you’re still working on that.

“Fuck!” You exclaim as Techno kills you yet again, the respawn screen flashing up.

“If you with to defeat me, train for another—“

“I’m trying!”

-

@ GenericUsername Anyone else notice that our resident flower girl has been avoiding PvP… poor girl is TIRED of being flamed

-> @ EatingLipSkin She deserves it for how shit she is for dying to magma blocks that one time

-

Slowly, so fucking slowly, you watch your bedwars win streak increase. Slowly, you watch your skywars win streak increase.

Somehow, against literally all odds, you’re learning how to girlboss PvP. Although when you told Techno that he seemed mildly confused, but you were definitely girlbossing PvP.

Which was exactly why you knew this stream was a good idea.

After a year and a half, you were hosting a huge stream with a bunch of your friends competing in a PvP tournament. Tommy insisted on there being a prize, so whoever wins gets the highly esteemed Tesco’s gift card you’ve had in your desk for five months. A battle of true honor, of epic consequences.

“Alright guys, so here’s my plan.” You tell your stream, mining some wood to craft basic tools. Everyone has 30 minutes to gear up, then it’s an hour till the winner is crowned. With the map having a small border, you’re counting on some cheeky kills from sneaking up on others. “I mine first, stock up on iron. Make a diamond axe if I can, but mostly go for lava buckets and backup gear.”

Your plan is put into motion quickly. With the new iron veins, it’s incredibly easy for you to get geared up within fifteen minutes. Venturing back up to the surface for food, you spot Tubbo without any armor killing sheep.

Perfect.

Sneaking to hide your name tag, you venture up a tree to get closer to him. You added a proximity mod, so you can hear him talking to his stream.

“We need lots of food, chat. All these guys— these guys don’t know the importance of food!” He’s saying. It’s a smart plan; if only you weren’t planning on killing him and taking his food.

“Hi Tubbo!” You shout, dropping down and killing him with a few swipes of your axe. “One down, just a few more to go!”

As people die left and right—most dying to you, to everyone’s surprise—you pointedly avoid Technoblade. The student will never surpass the master, after all. All your tricks came from his playbook and you really didn’t want to see how competitive he’d get for a gift card he’d never even use.

Dream was slain by Technoblade

Your eyes widen in surprise at the chat message, quickly stretching your fingers to press tab and bring up the list of players left alive. Only yours and Techno’s show.

“Oh no.” You breathe, freezing. “Oh God, chat. I have to murder Technoblade. I have to disassemble his organs and destroy his aorta.”

Suddenly, you’re paranoid as all hell. Randomly going into F5 as you kill cows, checking every angle.

“The student thinks she can challenge the master?” Techno asks, and you shriek in surprise as he digs up from below you.

“I fucking knew you’d say that! You predictable pig!”

“But you didn’t know where I was going to come from.” He points out. You know him well enough to detect the faint line of amusement in the words.

You groan, eating a steak. “Let’s dance, Technoblade.”

“Let’s die, actually.”

He comes at you with an axe, immediately disabling your shield. In retaliation, you swap to a fishing rod to lure him back in when he tried to run off.

As the two of you fight, you find yourself getting closer to your monitor, keeping your mouth shut as you concentrate. Fingers flying across the keys, you scroll to your lava bucket and attempt to burn him. By some miracle, he manages to avoid it and get a hit in on you.

“Oh my God.” You breathe at seeing how many hearts it takes. “Is that fucking enchanted?”

“Is yours not? Get good, nerd.”

You jump past him, placing a quick block to act as a barrier as you smack him with your own axe. Diamond, so it should make up for the difference in strength of his enchanted iron axe.

He loops around a tree, but you momentarily lose track of him. “Where the fuck—?”

As you notice your hearts depleting, you whirl around. Instead of doing the smart thing a retreating, you jump forward and crit him out. If he were any other player (cough cough, Tommy), he’d run. But he’s Technoblade. And all he does is crit you in return, killing you.

“Fuck.” You groan, leaning back in the chair.

<Technoblade> If you wish to defeat me train for another 100 years

Rolling your eyes at the chat message, all you can do is wait for the server to be reset with a new map and everyone living again.

You do the same tactic again, gearing up as quick as possible. It seems like other people have stolen your idea, but go about it in different ways based on the achievements. In the chat, you watch as Ranboo gets the achievement for entering the nether and then Tommy gets it right after.

“I will gift twenty subs if one of them isn’t dead within… five minutes.” You wager to your chat, laughing slightly. They’re still busy freaking out that you placed second last round, making you smile. “Guys, what’s wrong? You didn’t think I’d get kills? What am I known for if not manslaughter?”

A few minutes later—just under five minutes, might you note—Ranboo’s death message pops up. And then so does Tommy’s. Ranboo was killed by Tommy, but apparently Tommy burned to death? You can definitely picture his dumb ass walking into fire.

“Well… looks like I’m aiming for Phil.” You sigh. “I’d feel too bad to kill Tubbo again. But I’m not fucking with Dream or Techno— losing fights and all that.”

You start mining up to the surface, digging through some deep slate you had gone through. “Wait, is this wood?” You ask, scrolling to your axe to mine through the oak planks. You mine directly through a mineshaft, gasping in surprise. “Oh!”

There’s a chest in a minecart right in front of you, so you open it, hoping for some cheeky diamonds. You’ll even take wheat; food is food.

“Oh my God!” You shriek, probably bursting more than a few eardrums. “A god apple— oh my god! We’re fucking winning this one, guys! Cower at my name! But first we’re getting out of here before a spider kills me.”

You run around for a few minutes before stumbling into Dream and promptly running the other way directly into Phil’s house. Why he was building a house on a PvP server? You’ll never know.

“Oh, hi mate, what’re you doing?” He asks, hands empty of any weapons. You scroll onto your flint and steel silently. “Listen. We can talk about this. You don’t need to do this.”

“It’s too late, Philza Minecraft.” You answer, lighting some of the logs on fire. “Should’ve made it out of stone!”

Turning, you light the ground under him on fire then scroll over to your axe. He’s not expecting it, and although he gets a hit in with his empty fists, you still kill him.

“Just Techno and Dream left now.” You note. “Let’s just… hope they battle it out.”

To keep yourself occupied as you wait for the last five minutes before the borders shrink, you start setting cows on fire and collecting flowers. Poppies and dandelions fill your inventory, your little good luck charms.

“Alright guys. Someone go sneak into Techno’s chat and snitch on what’s happening for me.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Kidding, kidding. Don’t do that.”

Just as the one-minute warning pops up I no chat, Techno’s death message does. You gasp loudly, before grinning. “It’s my time to shine! I’ll avenge Techno!”

The world border starts to shrink behind you, but you’re already on the move. Knowing Dream, he’ll probably be in the center of the map. If you can catch him while he’s looting Techno’s body, you have no chance of losing.

“Stop saying good luck chat, I don’t need any good luck.” You grin, spotting Dream’s name tag. “I’ve got skill.”

Before you throw yourself at him, you eat your enchanted golden apple. If you trade blows, you’ll end up winning with the extra health. And two hearts is all you need.

“Ohhhh Dream!” You shout, catching him with a swing of your axe as you jump past him.

“AHH— what the fuck? Where did you come from?” He runs after you, making you do awkward jumping around to avoid his fishing rod.

“Stop! Stop that, I can’t— Dream!”

“Are you regenerating? Did you go to the nether?” He asks, and you can’t help but smile.

Because God apples don’t just give you extra hearts; they give you regeneration.

“I did one better.”

You hit him with your axe again, trading blows with him just like you thought you might.

“You’ve got to be low, how low are you?” He asks, hitting you again, but it’s too late. His body explodes on his death, his items flying out everywhere. You throw your chair back, jumping up and shouting.

“SUCK MY FUCKING DICK HATERS! I’M THE NEW PVP GODDESS AROUND HERE!”

-

@ WomenLover MOMMY? SORRY... MOMMY? SORRY

->@ TheRealBIcon dont be sorry we all thinking it she HOT HOT

@ S4pph1cSarah Anyone else see that fanart of her winning the PvP tournament… woo boy…. I’m… not okay…

@ S4pph1cSarah A thread of the HOTTEST fanart I’ve ever seen of our beloved streamer <3

@ SmexyWomenNearMe Me: “where is she?” “Her parkour skills are rusty how odd” “she’s streaming less” Her: “Watch this fuckos I’m badass and a killer”

->@ TwilightReference ”this is the face of a killer Bella”

@ CottagecoreBadass Can we talk about how dedicated she is? Like yeah she’s hot. So hot. But she’s also insanely badass and commited???

->@ CuteBuilder101 Best type of woman fr fr ->@ StarAnon Cottagecore + badass + chaotic force of nature = her (my dream woman)

@ StarAnon She really just drew all the women lovers outta hiding huh

@ ThisIsTheWriter Idk if I want to be her or if I want her but man. Oh man. I’m so bi.

[terrathetulpa]

I would like to bash the Minecraft movie teaser immediately. Because we need to bully the studio into getting rid of it or changing it like we did to Sonic. It is the most egregiously hideous abomination of Minecraft I have ever had to look at through these poor shared bloodshot eyes. The animals look like fucking horseshit supreme! Like someone was fucking around with some fur shaders for the first time and went "What if I pulled in a model of a sheep from Minecraft?" That llama is gonna be in my nightmares and I'm gonna lucid dream for the first time in months just so I can banish it to the wretched cursed CG hell plane that it came from. But first I'm gonna bash it's hideous skull in so it doesn't come back!

I am so unimpressed by your wide angle shot of a landscape that is supposed to be Minecraft, and doesn't even pass for modded Minecraft! It doesn't look like the game at all! It looks like someone tried to do a 4k voxel style remake of genshin impact and then someone else photo-shopped random ass stock photos into it. And when is someone gonna tell the movie execs that we don't wanna look at Jason Momoa anymore!? I hate his stupid bearded face!

The only snowball's chance in hell that this thing has of being watchable at all is Jack Black, and even he looks scuffed as shit! You bought that man a blue T-shirt from the GAP SEVEN MINUTES before filming- didn't even check to make sure that shit fit him! LOOK AT THIS!!!

I love you Jack Black, but you are not Steve!!! YOU ARE NOT STEVE!!! Did anyone bother to like- LOOK at the source material for more than 0 seconds!? Do you realize what this movie COULD HAVE BEEN!? I CAN'T EVEN SIT HERE AND DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW BAD THIS MISS IS FOR ME, WE WOULD BE HERE ALL NIGHT!!!

GOD!!! AT LEAST GET HIM A PROPER SHIT FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!! FUCK!!! FUCKING FUCK!!! FUUUUUCCCKKK!!!!

MOTHER FUCKING DAMNIT! BITCHES IN HELL!!! FUCK THIS MOVIE! PLEASE KILL THIS MOVIE!! BOMB THIS FUCKING MOVIE!!! I need all of you internet haters to pretend this thing is Morbius! When this comes out in theatres, if they haven't at least tried to fix it. Every time you see it just pretend it's Morbius. It is not worth your time. Do not see it. Even if you really like Jack Black. Do not.

You know what fuck it- I can write a long ass post.

Listen, you have to understand that I love Minecraft. I love Minecraft so much. I love running around, making things and exploiting villagers. Roaming vast landscapes of blocks and tricking the skeletons into shooting each other. The greatest burden of my childhood is that I couldn't convince my friends to continue playing Minecraft with me. If Minecraft were a beautiful woman, I would marry her. We would host lavish dinner parties and all of the guests would compete to build the coolest Minecraft build, and I would always win because Minecraft is my wife! Now I will proceed to spend several minutes resisting the urge to describe even the most intimate aspects of this theoretical marriage I would have to Minecraft in excruciating and graphic detail. (The fuck was I saying?)

This movie could have been LITERALLY ANYTHING! Because if it has ever happened, it has happened in Minecraft. This could've been a thriller, a murder mystery, an action movie, they could have remade literally anything and gotten away with it because "It's Minecraft, it's different" They could have made INFINITE MINECRAFT MOVIES!!! But more painful to lose, and more painful to see missing from the discourse about this film is that it could have told stories that nothing else could have told. This could have been a base wars movie, this could have been about conflicting factions competing for land, with complex politics, interesting heroes and villains, doing goofy ass shit like building sheep everywhere or making chicken bombs as much as they actually genuinely fight with TNT cannons and crazy ass ANIMATED PVP sequences. This movie could have been FUCKING SICK!!!

This could have been a retelling of an anarchy server's history, or a long romantic love letter to the game itself in movie form, or a playful exciting romp through someone's LAN game but from the perspective of those in game characters- AND NO ONE PLAYS AS STEVE HE WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN THERE!!! Where is our community's representation??? I don't trust this studio to show us massive sprawling builds that represent years of work, the fortresses, the cathedrals, the giant nether mansions. We're not going to see seasoned players strike down the ender dragon with 5 beds and a wooden axe. We're not getting elytra courses, SMP stories, redstone computers, massive pixel art, giant sculptures, hidden signs in peoples bases, pastoral communities farming by the river, villager outposts, torn up server spawns, that one guy who built a 150 block tall wheat farm overnight, the absolutely massive expanse of mods for this thing, the elaborate RP plots, the full on cities constructed by dozens of people, adventure maps, survival challenges, that one fucking log by the door that you keep stripping on accident- THE ACTUAL ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT MINECRAFT IS FOR ANYONE!?!?

NO!!! NOOOOO!!! None of that for you! You know what you get instead!?!?

You get JACK FUCKING BLACK trying to lug this 150-million dollar 6000 pound TURD through the box office BY HIMSELF!!! In a shitty blue T-shirt that some poor underpaid intern bought for him for 9$, 7 minutes before they started filming!!!

and I don't think he can do it!

There's no band-aid big enough to make this better.

Not even Jack Black!

[glazedsnail]

Ok so, I'm really close to finishing my small fanfic thing and I'm actually happy about how it turned out.

I didn't think of a title for it so I'll go with:

And Misery Loved Company

Title might and will change because I have absolutely no self control and no sense of permanence

I'll post it in chapters and stuff.

This first doesn't really work as a chapter but I thought I'd have to cut it somewhere and be able to give youse a taste?

So here's a sample.

TWs are for the whole work, not this particular sample sorry horns friends.

Stardew Valley fanfic ShanexOCFarmer(Female) 18+ swear words/substance misuse/explicit/suicide ideation/mention of abuse

I’ve been in this town for a few months, and already so much has happened.

I didn’t know the first thing about farming, and now look at me. I wear overalls, a straw hat, I use a pitchfork, sometimes. I have dirt on my hands, my knees, my legs, my arms, my ass. Everywhere really. 

I’m… Moderately successful in the matter of crops and sheep handlings. And I just know my quality wool will one day fetch a very high price on the shelf of some high end stores. If only I could handle those blasted sheep correctly. 

I wanted to give up, like I’d given up so many things before. So many times. But when I managed to spool my own skein of wool, from my very own sheep, I knew I had to keep at it. I cannot wait to start knitting with my very own wool. 

Trust me, this was an even better feeling than when I ate my first omelette made from the eggs of my own chickens. And I do love my chickens! 

Of course, I met a lot of new people. Marnie, for one, is my farm neighbour. She helped me shear my first sheep, and eased me into farm animals ownership. I had never owned anything bigger than a guinea pig. And that guinea pig wasn’t too fond of me anyway. She entrusted me with the care of two sheep and three chickens.

The man who came to deliver my chicks is her nephew. I had met him a handful of times. At the supermarket where he works, at Marnie’s ranch, as he apparently rents a room from her, but mostly at the saloon. We never talked much compared to the others. He wouldn’t let me, and I would let him. At the time.

He wanted to make sure I had a suitable home for the chicks. He didn’t seem too pleased to do the work, to be there, at all. I remember barely getting a “mornin’” when he came in, and he would certainly not stick around for coffee or a chit chat.

I mean, he was completely being his usual self. I wasn’t surprised. The only surprise was that I actually did put the kettle on just in case.

However, once he opened the crate, the man constantly frowning at the bottom of a glass, and who had quite literally told me to “fuck off” was somehow… beaming? He handled the chicks with such tenderness, it almost made me feel bad to buy them off. Suddenly, he was sharing his knowledge of chicken care, making sure I was ready, and showing some incredible kindness towards the three little chicks I had gotten from Marnie.

Everytime he was giving me the brush off, I would remember his kind eyes from that day, and it would give me enough drive to persevere. Maybe too much, definitely too much for his taste. I was persistent, perhaps annoying, absolutely intrusive. When I saw those caring eyes almost close forever, I witnessed the dormant strength hiding within, and I knew.

Today, I’m meeting him at the beach.

I made a pizza from my own flour, with sauce from my own tomatoes. Cheese and pepperoni are from Pierre’s, the grocer, but come on. The base is homemade therefore this is a homemade pizza. And who cares where I got the olive oil, salt, and yeast from…

I have been looking forward to this, hum, evening, I guess. I was going to say “date”. Surprisingly, we did kiss.

Moving to Grandpa’s old farm was in no way a scheme to get me on the dating scene again, not after everything in the city, not after 30. And certainly not with a man as rude as him. Crazy how things can change drastically with time.

The kiss was more a heat of the moment type of thing. I liked it. Though.

He wouldn’t have suggested this picnic at the beach if he wasn’t thinking the same.

I pack my homemade pizza, homegrown dried and fresh hot peppers, a pack of six, and some muffins I made with my own eggs, own flours, and my own seeds. It amazes me how good I am at this farm living thing. I hope Grandpa is watching. Mostly.

The air is still warm, but the leaves have started to fall. I smell the distinct perfume of rain in the distance. Here, so far, the slowly darkening afternoon sky is still clear.

I’m nervous. I feel something I could describe as…this high schooler heading to meet with their crush and spend some time alone for the first time. I gulp. This definitely rings somewhat familiar. I mean, I didn’t put on any of my best underwear though. I’m too old for this.

Damn. Listen to me.

I shake my head to get rid of those idiotic thoughts as I walk past the village waterhole. I wave at the villagers who have now become my friends. Emily points at my basket and I remind her of my dinner plan. She smiles with all her pearly whites while commanding me to wait. She shortly comes back out of the saloon with a mist up tupperware filled with warm pepper poppers, and a bottle of strawberry juice. My favourite.

‘Emily, you shouldn’t have!’

‘Oh Fern, please. It was also Gus’ idea. You must know all we want is the best for you.’ She grins.

‘Pardon?’

She laughs and disappears behind the wooden door. Well. She’s always been a bit of a nutcase. Affectionately though.

When I stand on the sand, I hear Shane over the rolling waves, calling me, and my nervousness instantly disappears. He’s still wearing his work hat, probably came here straight after work. He spreaded a blanket and had started dishing out a bunch of snacks from his bag.

‘Well, we won’t starve!’ I laugh, emptying my basket. As I sit down I see Shane glance at the glass bottle Emily gave me.

‘Is that strawberry juice?’

‘Yeah. Emily gave it to me on my way here. Look, she also gave me these! Compliment of Gus. They’re your favourite aren’t they?’

I smile so hard the corners of my mouth might crack. I’m just comfortable.

‘Y..Yeah’

He obviously is not.

‘Are you ok? What’s that you just rammed in your bag?’

‘Nothing. Is that homemade pizza?’

I’m way too proud to continue probing. I happily remove the cloth from the plate:

‘Pepperoni! Just like you like it.’

He smiles and chuckles, visibly embarrassed.

‘What’s the matter?’ I ask. He quickly glances at his bag. ‘Do you know you still have your work hat on?’

He looks up, grumbles, and removes his hat he tries to put in his bag. Bag now at my arm's length.

‘What are you hiding!’ I say, snatching the surprisingly heavy backpack from him.

‘Fern!’

I pull out two plastic bottles.

‘Joja strawberry juice?’

He quickly grabs his bag back in a groan.

‘But, why were you hiding it?’

‘I know it’s your favourite.’ He sighs. ‘Just wanted to, like, surprise you and be nice is all.’ He frowns, and blushes lightly. ���I didn’t know this was such common knowledge, and now you’ve been given the nice stuff in a glass bottle and all you probably won’t want my Joja crap.’

I catch myself giggling.

‘What’s so funny?’ He snaps.

‘Shane, that’s incredibly sweet. Thank you.’ I cradle the bottles in my arms like the most cherished present. ‘You know I used to drink these all the time when I was a teen, I’ve not had any in ages. Truth be told I thought they were discontinued.’

He seems to relax a bit.

‘It’s full of crap’ he smiles ‘Maybe it’s gone in the city and they just get rid of it in small towns’.

‘No, they still sell Joja beer everywhere, trust me.’

We laugh, I’m glad he seems a bit more in the moment.

‘You know’ I start ‘Emily’s barmaid, it makes sense she’d know my favourite drink, right?’ He nods in acknowledgement ‘But, knowing your favourite dish? I should be the jealous one.’

His eyes open wide.

‘I…err… It’s not jealousy it’s’

‘I’m just teasing’ I say, gently elbowing him

‘I’m such an idiot.’ He says back, hand on the back of his neck, with a slight smile nonetheless.

‘You’re not an idiot. You’re cute.’

I hand him a slice of pizza I was busy cutting. His cheeks turn bright red and he tries to disappear in his hoodie. I clearly didn’t realise what I said. He eventually clears his throat and grabs the slice with a small ‘thank you’.

[gurlbesimpin]

In the beast's Den

{K. Heisenberg x GN! reader}

Chapter two: trusting the beast

Your cold shaking hands grip the cold, steel sides of the chair; desperately trying to ground yourself as well as proving that this indeed is reality. 

In that moment the man who introduced himself as Heisenberg, curses under his breath at his cigar accidentally extinguishing. 

The agitated lord flicks his wrist, a zippo-lighter levitating from his pocket and towards his cigar. Your eyes are glued on this; mouth agape and in awe as the lighter floats in the air directly at the tip of his cigar. 

“Kid- eyes up ‘ere”

He snaps his fingers at you, motioning for you to look up at his face whilst he speaks.

When his cigar is lit; the lighter makes itself back into his pocket seemingly with magic.

“Now- I wouldn’t bother giving you this offer if i didn’t see… potential”

He grumbles out as he takes a long drag from his cigar; blowing smoke out in your direction. The feeling of his hazel eyes staring directly at you is overwhelming, especially when his eyes are covered by small round sunglasses.

“Potential…?”

Heisenberg nods; crossing his arms as he leans against the wall behind him; eyes still piercing your soul in an almost predatory look.

“Exactly… y’got a good head on your shoulders- something rare in this damned village”

Gulping, you keep listening to the older man’s words as he takes slow and heavy steps towards your sitting form-

“I could use someone like you, someone quick, someone not from this shithole-”

“Shithole?”

Your question was rhetorical, honestly it was obvious why he considers it a shithole.

Within a flash; his large gloved hand rests under your chin, lifting it to meet his gaze.

“Someone with a smart mouth… join me, and survive this place- you’d be under my protection. No lycans, villagers or super-sized-vampire-bitches could threaten you”

It’s difficult to trust this lord, to trust anyone here; though, do you have any other options? The possibility of death if you dared taking a step outside, was way too high for comfort; thus, your decision would be simple, if not for that feeling.

“How can I trust you?”

He grins like a cheshire cat; his sharp canines bright in the dim light as he takes steps towards his wooden desk. His hand reaches up for the large rag and in one swift motion, is removed; exposing the pictures and notes you saw mere minutes ago.

“How could you trust me hm?”

His gaze briefly lingers on the board before landing back on you; cigar still hanging from his lips as one of the many knives on his desk floats in the air, the tip pointing at one of the many pictures. 

“A super-sized vampire bitch!”

The knife now sticks in the picture of the pale lady with deep red lipstick; the knife after a second retracting and levitating once again.

“Ugly-ass knockoff jigsaw puppet and owner!”

The knife flies towards the picture of the woman in a black veil; a pale doll in hand.

“A disgusting moronic fish freak!”

The knife flies at the picture of this thing you looked so confused at earlier.

“A narcissistic, psychopathic, crazy bitch!”

With inhuman force, the knife shoves itself into the board at the largest picture; the woman with a golden mask, a golden halo behind her head, the supposed leader of these beings.

“The narcissistic crazy bitch- who is that?”

You ask, hands nervously fidgeting as the lord sighs deeply.

“That bitch, is Mother Miranda- the one responsible for all this. The cunt who turned all of us into monsters! I didn’t choose this life, I want nothing more to be free of that bitch! Unlike my siblings- those freaks remain loyal to that witch…” 

The raw emotion in his voice was unexpected. He seems tired, angry and even-

Sorrowful?

“Siblings?”

“She refers to us as her children… a fucking joke- I’m nothing like those other midless sheep! All I desire is freedom! Freedom from that witch! In exchange for your loyalty and assistance; you’ll have my protection from the dangers of this place, you’d survive all this”

Heisenberg seems eager to convince you to join him; to join his ‘mission’ in freedom… 

As much as you were afraid, you also didn’t want to be subjected to those other ‘children’ he speaks of. Especially not without protection from someone stronger, knowledgeable. 

Thoughts raced, unsure of exactly what to chose; you fear to trust him, yet he somehow seemed genuine.

His shoulders drop as he takes swift steps closer, resting one of his large hands on your shoulder; his hazel eyes certainly staring at you through those sunglasses.

The hand resting on your shoulder, slowly makes it’s way back under your chin, lifting your chin to look up and meet his gaze.

Whatever weird form of manipulation or seduction he was applying at this very moment; it worked like a charm. Your shoulders relaxed as you nod, actually trusting the beast.

His cocky smirk returns as he pulls away; tossing his cigar to the ground and stomping on it.

“Right choice kid- follow me”

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

Bro it bothers me sm when ppl are like “Debbie turned out like her mother” or “lip turned out like Frank” or saying that any of the kids turned out like their parents bc they didn’t??? They each have their own struggles and faults, but none of them turned out like their parents as they all broke the cycle??? Idk ppl are just dumb and don’t understand the story 😭😭😭

ok so bee, i saw this ask and i was about to give a normal response to this but then i was like, yk what- fuck it, so here’s a whole ass meta post about generational trauma in shameless and why i also hate this.

(i’m so sorry in advance i’m just crazy)

generational trauma in shameless

shameless is a show that portrays a lot of serious topics, especially topics regarding dysfunctional families, substance abuse, and mental illness. one of those topics portrayed is generational trauma. as someone who comes from a dysfunctional family with a lot of generational trauma, i feel like shameless portrayed this so well.

the first generation to start this (that we really got information about) is frank and monica’s parents. we learned the most about frank’s parents, so i’ll start off there. we learned the most about peggy gallagher, frank’s mother (who- fyi, debbie was kind of named after since peggy’s real name is margaret and that’s debbie’s middle name, so that adds to the whole generational trauma thing but whatever), peggy was an abusive monster. she had four sons, and her least favorite was frank. this was very apparent. she treats frank (and monica, we know she hated monica even though we never saw them together) like shit, and in 4x11, we learn that she raped frank as a child. in season 2, she gets out after being in prison for around eleven years and found joy in humiliating frank + could’ve killed carl with their meth lab. she sucked. her husband was also bad. we didn’t learn much about frank’s father, but we know that much like his son, he was an abusive drunk. he used to make frank wear a dress and would beat him. frank had a very traumatic childhood, which definitely played into the way he parented his children and decided to spend his adulthood. we don’t know a lot about monica’s parents, but we know that frank says that monica’s parents ruined her. monica’s mother is mentioned once in 3x06, where she’s calling fiona and forgets who monica is. one can infer she had dementia or something like it, and it’s implied she died by season 7. speaking of season 7, that’s where we meet her father, bill. bill is a crude man who criticizes everything. we know that he had little involvement in his daughter’s life, and was a army man, making monica a military brat.

so, one abusive addict parent and one uninvolved parent. sound familiar?

i don’t think i need to explain much about frank and monica, but i will anyways. frank and monica made fiona on accident and monica didn’t want her, not long after lip was born, frank went to rehab and monica and clayton made ian. when debbie was born, frank wanted to sell her. when carl was born, monica left not long after. when liam was born, monica, yet again, left weeks later. monica is uninvolved, and frank isn’t necessarily uninvolved, but he isn’t really involved either. frank was the black sheep of the family and the least favorite. his father hit him (we’re lead to believe he was the only one who was hit) and he seemed to have had it pretty rough, maybe it’s just me, but when i hear that, i think of ian. monica and frank are both victims of their environment. being a military brat, monica most likely moved around a lot and felt very lonely. so, she found comfort in the lifestyle that was moving constantly, and didn’t really grasp the concept of two parents being there constantly. that, her addiction, and her disorder played parts in her parenting style. frank grew up humiliated and was smart, but became an addict and a drop out. he tried to improve his life on multiple occasions but failed each time. i will die on the hill that both frank and monica loved their kids, but not enough, not in the right way. something i feel very strongly about due to my own experiences is that you must heal before becoming a parent. growing up with unhealed parents puts you into a position nobody should be put it.

on the topic of growing up with unhealed parents, we have lip and debbie. lip and debbie both have hero complexes, and also both have always wanted nothing more than to have children. lip is an alcoholic, and one of the ways he copes with this and keeps his sobriety is by putting other people’s problems before his own. debbie is troubled, to say the least (it’s implied that she struggles with borderline personality disorder), and to cope with her crippling loneliness she self sabotages and prostitutes herself. in season 2, the possibility of lip being a teen dad was there and lip was willing to ruin his entire life for a kid that he wasn’t even sure was his. in season 3, he takes in mandy’s half-sister to save her from foster care. in season 8/9, he rescues xan and tries to become her guardian. ian describes him as the closest thing to a dad all of the gallagher siblings have ever had. in debbie’s case, from season 1 we learn about her caring nature. we see her care for her father, aunt ginger, and her babydoll. in the next season, she starts her own daycare and cares for those babies. she has wanted nothing more than her own family since her first appearance. she gets pregnant at fourteen and by fifteen, destroys a lot of her life for her baby. she likes feeling wanted and having a family and she loves caring for her daughter. (it’s also worth mentioning the similarities between frank and fiona and monica and ian, but that’s for another day).

so now, here’s the question: are lip and debbie frank and monica?

i’d say no. lip is still struggling with active addiction, by season 11, he is not recovered, he relapsed and the ending is so ambiguous (purposefully, every character’s ending was left up to interpretation) that we don’t really know what’s going on with him pre-11x12. but there is that scene where lip gives fred this speech about how frank was an addict, and gave lip alcohol as a kid, and now lip’s an addict. and lip tells freddie that he would never do that to him. i feel like that alone gives us the assurance that lip isn’t like frank (in that way). but is debbie monica? also no. many fans are inlove with the idea of debbie abandoning franny, it seems to be all they talk about, but as a self-proclaimed debbie expert (lol) i’d say that that’s blasphemy. debbie would go through hell for franny, and in 11x08 delivers a monologue about why she will never leave franny. that doesn’t mean she’s a flawless mother, she isn’t, but she’s also twenty. i think that the most confirmation we have that debbie isn’t like her mother is in season 7 when she loses franny. she goes through absolute hell over losing her child. monica gets franny back and claims to relate, but debbie (and viewers) can tell that it’s different. we know that the gallagher’s were taken away on multiple occasions, and we know that when monica found out her kids were taken from her, instead of coming home, she willingly signed the rights to them away.

anyways. i completely agree that they are not like their parents; are they like them in certain ways? absolutely. but i also fully believe that the two of them are breaking the cycle. fred and franny will grow up and never have to worry about having a roof over their heads, they will never worry about not having food in their stomachs, they will never find themselves without a parent for a year or two. they will, hopefully, grow up with no substance abuse issues and no mental health issues. hopefully.

[stargirlwrites]

Smoking starlovers

Jungkook x cute pothead/Dealer F. reader

-> smut

-> Age gap,, Huge mention of weed, unprotected sex, [don't do it unless you want to have a child and die.] Cussing, teasing, just sex tbh, domish jk??-

☆ ------ ︻╦╤─ ҉ -¨ * ‧₊˚*♡ * *” ♡. ♡ ------ ☆

Jungkook visited your apartment you shared with your friends, you had something you can provide him with. And that thing is weed. Jungkook is 7 years older than you, you're 18 and he's 25. He met you when you were 15 and you were selling weed to him. Jungkook was a casual smoker, he did it for fun. While on the other hand you were a straight addict but for some reason it was hot. Jungkook knew he shouldn't find his crazy teen plug hot but you were.

Jungkook knocks at your door to be greeted by sana, who was the girlfriend of Yoongi who happens to be Jungkooks childhood best friend. She smiles as she pulls jungkook in for a huge, he's like her little brother.

"You looking for __?" Jungkook shyly smiles as he nods his head, he's not a big fan of talking.

" __ JUNGKOOK IS HERE SO GET YOUR ASS DOWN AND GET YOUR BAG, YOU STILL NEED TO PAY THE ELECTRICITY BILL IT'S YOUR TURN THIS MONTH." sana yells, of course she loves being loud and silly.

You come down quickly, in baggy black pajama pants, your short wavyish curly black hair nappy and crazy, your baggy black shirt with some kind of devil ritual lettering and your all black socks with your silly sheep plushie slippers. Jungkook notices your fit and smiles immediately. Of course you're just waking up looking like a cute hobo as if it's not 3:42 pm in the afternoon.

You look up at him, your sleepy face with tiny dark circles under your cute doe eyes. Your face lights up and bit but he can tell you wanna be in your bed slumped right now.

"Hey bro, before you say anything I got your shit ready don't worry. Also you get a little extras for the Halloween special" you smile as you say that. And FUCK jungkook loves the smiley piercing that shows whenever you smile. He's so whipped.

"Yeah thanks __, I appreciate it, also is it fine if I kick it here for a couple hours?" his cheeks blush up a bit, odd..

"Yeah of course fuzzy make yourself at home. Ima get your shit and be right down and get something to eat I'm still high as shit and got the munchies" you smile again and the same smiley piercing welcomes Jungkook even more. The little nickname "fuzzy" you gave him since you were 15 made his heart flutter. You were always a wonderful person to be around especially when he's feeling down.

Jungkook sits down on your couch, the couch where you and him smoked at least 400 blunts over the past year since you moved in, the same couch you told Jungkook you were bisexual, the same couch were you and your ex girlfriend broke up, the same couch you smoked so much you started spitting out all this gross liquid, the same couch were Jungkook realized how much you meant to him. It was just THAT couch.

Jungkook gets comfortable on the couch and it doesn't take you that long to come back with a bag full of goodies.

"Alright here's your stuff, the Halloween bag has a wax pen, 2 blunts and candy" you say while stuffing left over pizza from the crazy night you had last night down your throat, gulping down sprite you just randomly found on the little night stand next to the couch. You then let out a burp, you honestly didn't care who was around if you had to burp you're going to fucking burp. And Jungkook loves that about you. He loves that you just don't care about little things like that. He loves that you're real and don't try to sugarcoat anything and try to get validation from everyone else.

"Guys I'm going out with Yoongi, Soobin is at his mothers house and Chaeyoung and Taehyung went to this thingy since their twins and get to get free stuff if you bring your twin or whatever, so its just going to be you too" sana says as she waves her goodbyes, you guys wave back and nod your heads in confirmation that you got it.

"Wait Jungkook I'm going to go get something in my room I'll be right back" you say and get up to dash to your room, jungkook just nods. It's been a while and you're not back from your room yet, Jungkook gets up to head to your room, he's halfway there and can hear faint screaming. He automatically opens the door to your room, His eyes widen as he sees what's in front of him.

He walked into you changing. You're in nothing but a pair of boxers and a bra. Your tits looks so good, so big. Your ass is begging to be freed from those boxers. Jungkook can feel his cock stiffening in his sweatpants. His eyes meet yours. Your eyes widen a bit by not as much as his are.

"So are you just going to stand there and watch me change or.." you shy away, you look at Jungkook with the cutest eyes. Your eyes trail down his body and you notice the huge bulge in his sweatpants. You're so glad you're not the only one who's experiencing sexual tension.

"__ I uhm I-" he doesn't know what to say, his body is in fire and doesn't even know what to think at this point

"Your dick is up" he looks at his dick the looks at you, he's humiliated that you saw it.

"I'm sorry this isn't me it's just, I'm sorry I'll go now" he says as he's about to leave your room.

"do you want to touch me Jungkook? If so you can." His eyes widen, he looks back at you. And holy hell you're already stripping out of your boxers. You pull down your boxers and all he can see is your squishy thighs and your legs clenched together, covering any sight of your womanhood.

"__, you're not thinking straight, I uhm I think I'm going to just.." he looks back at you, you gave him 'That.' Look. The look that confirms that you both just have to do what you guys have to do.

Jungkook and you end up on your bed, completely naked. Jungkook toys with your pussy gently, dirty talking a bit to get you extra wet for him.

"Fuck your little cunt is so wet and pretty baby" Jungkook licks your skit and rubs his finger on your clit gently, he knows you're a virgin and new to this so he'll treat you with care.

"Mmh, Jungkook just put it in please" high pitched little whimpers escape your mouth as he works on your clit and outside of your pussy, making sure you're nice and wet for him since he is about a good 8.5 inches.

Jungkook hums as he grabs his erected cock and slaps your cute wet cunt with his tip, making you both moan at the feeling. He slides his tip up and down your slit making you whimper, waiting for the right time to enter your virgin hole.

Your face twitches cutely and your body wiggles a bit when you feel the tip of Jungkooks cock enter you, Jungkook feels his cock twitch the second he enters you.

"Fuck baby your greedy chubby little cunt trying to suck me in full, you think you can handle huge cock just yet baby? No, not when this is your first time sweetheart." He groans as he continues to open you up a bit pushing at least half of his cock inside of you.

"You can m-move now kookie" a tear falls from your eyes as he snaps his hips forward, his cock reaching a little too deep for your comfort. He notices and fucks into you ever faster and harder making you scream out his name and tell him to slow down but he just does the opposite.

"Fucking hell __, your pussy is taking me so well baby" he lifts your legs up over his shoulder, your walls clench and you get wetter, his cock fills you up so good. A little too good. The stretch he was giving you and the way his cock started to hit the perfect spots. Feeling nothing but pleasure and no more pain in your lower region.

"F-fuck your dick is so good p-please don't stop kookie!" you feel like you're about to pee but in a pleasurable way. Waves of pleasure hit you when Jungkook reaches for your throat and squeezes it a bit, he notices how your pussy clenches around him and the gush if wetness that he felt in his cock while he was basically ramming into your pussy.

Jungkook doesn't stop moving his hips, the way he groans and moans out your name makes your pussy flutter. The way his hand has a hold of your neck and the way he's pinching and playing with your nipple here and there makes you come to a climax.

"Mm- Fuck! Kookie ima, ima cum" high pitches sounds come out of your mouth, Jungkook goes ever faster and smirks when you scream when he hits that certain spot in your pussy.

"F-fuck cum baby, cum on my cock like the good girl you are" his hands go down to your clit and rubs it to bring you closer to orgasm. As soon as he hears this hot sound come out of your mouth and feels your cunt tighten, you cum hard on his cock. The sight of you cumming so hard for him had him reaching his own orgasm, squirting his release all inside your sensitive cunt.

Heavy breathing was heard all around the room. It took a fat minute to realized you just had sex not just for the first time but with you long time crush Jeon Jungkook. And being honest you can't believe you let him dom you, you have to dom his ass back just to feel the girl queen pussy boss power.

"I can't believe we just had sex oh my God. And don't think you're getting any free weed or anything just cuz I let you hit mister" you say jokingly. You were about to crack another joke but you feel Jungkooks muscular heavy tatted arm wrap about your waist. He pushes you closer to him and gives you a sweet kiss. Your eyes widen but you give into the kiss within a couple of seconds. You can taste a bit of weed and sweet frosting while kissing him, it feels like heaven.

• Let's just say they end up dating and start making a lot of love•

(Sorry for the sudden rush at the end, its my first "long" smut I guess)

Thank you for reading!!

[spilltheteawithme]

I noticed that but what can you do, how many will stay once they part ways? /

That’s such a good question. I can honestly tell you that as someone who was an “outsider” looking in for a long time, here are my thoughts:

1) A lot of his “fans” actually hate him because they can’t possess or control him. Their need to write fanfiction about his personal life and force her into every aspect of his being is literally just them trying to exercise some control over his life. It brings them peace to see him visibly miserable with a woman because they don’t feel like they’re missing out on anything.

2) The shippers and other fans who feel obligated to like her subscribe to what I like to call, “uwu rule following culture.” A stupid, clunky name for a stupid, clunky way of thinking lol. It’s basically the idea that everyone in the world needs to act one way in order to be considered “good” or “worthy.” It happens amongst people who are deeply entrenched in fandom culture, I find. These are the people who think that liking the “age appropriate” (read: boring and unattractive) gf will get them brownie points with their fave. These are the people who would clutch their pearls over him seeing a woman in her twenties who has everything in common with him, but jump for joy when he’s with a woman who’s only 2 years younger and is the total opposite of all he’s claimed to stand for. These are the people who compare her to Ale and can only argue that she’s “not problematic” when she’s just as bad, if not worse. FFS, she USES tragedy to further her brand. That’s sick. They make no sense, but they want a gold star for running around the internet yelling at people on his and her behalf, as if they know them personally and have anymore of an insight on their lives than we do.

3) this is a *spicy* take, and it’s also where things get complicated. Bear with me lol:

There are psychos and idiots on BOTH sides of the PR/real argument. There are absolutely the fans who will hate any woman he breathes next to. There are fans who don’t hate Annabelle because she’s actually a jerk, but because she is currently being referred to as his gf. Period. They’re thrilled that there are valid reasons not to like her, but they’re messy af and make the rest of Team PR look tactless and stupid. These ain’t my people because I know that they’ll hate the next girl, too.

On the other hand, I’m going to refer back up to #2 and touch on my UWU Rule Following Culture point: There are people who only like her and refuse to dislike her or subscribe to the PR POV because they’re *not like other fans.* They just want so badly to be the chosen ones to follow Sebastian around with their hands cupped under his ass, not realizing that going along with shit like sheep could potentially be more harmful toward him and not at all what he wants. In short: they will like every rs he’s in, real or not, because they think it makes them better fans. It’s a purity contest.

NOW, here’s where it gets complicated: A lot of the people who typically hate his gfs because they’re his gfs are defending AW like their lives depend on it. Not because they like her or think she’s worthy, but because this is the first gf of Sebastian’s that he has no obvious affection toward or attraction to. And it’s a relief to them. A lot of these people are the same folks who would’ve harmed Margarita with their bare hands because he was obsessed with her. They like that AW is a self-insert. They like that they’re spared the pain of watching him love on a woman. I’d even venture to say that they like that he looks miserable next to her. Because deep down, in their delusion, they like that they can look at that and convince themselves, “I would make him happier.” They drone on about how all of us are sooooo awful and ugly and are just mad that Seb won’t fuck us, but they’re just projecting. Believe me when I say that they will hate the next girl he’s actually crazy about, especially if shes young, talented, and beautiful. And so, some of them will stick by AW because AW will inevitably hate and stalk this woman until every single stringy hair is pulled from her own head.

The obedient UWU rule followers will simply migrate their loyalty over to the next gf. They may be of use in that case if the next girl is lovely and the situation is the total opposite of what the AW situation has been.

Also worth noting that a lot of Seb’s fans hate men and like Sebastian because he’s shown to be a more sympathetic figure toward women (make no mistake: I ADORE that he’s a gentle soul who respects women). It’s kind of like how racist people are just in love with POC who say what they want to hear. They like that, in their minds, he’s submissive and easy to control. Realistically, they are about 2 seconds away from hating him at all times. They are just waiting for him to fail so they can say how he’s awful and just like every other man. A lot of these people ALSO love Annabelle because they don’t think a man should be with a woman he’s crazy about. It’s weird as fucking hell. These are the people who have the nerve to say, “he’s more problematic than she is.” You best believe some of these fuckers will jump ship when they split, and the normal Seb fans will be relieved. Go ride Annabelle’s narcissistic ass into the sunset. Don’t let the door hit you in your way out!

Aaaaand…I think that concludes my novel 😂 some will stay, some will go, some will stay and still ship him with a woman he was never actually in love with long after he’s found someone else. Sebastian said it himself: his fans are a trip!

😳🍿!!