#i want to know all of your little idiosyncrasies!! i want to listen to you rant and ramble!! i want to be good for you!!

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 56

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

It's all about perspective in this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Donnie was brooding. About what, you weren’t sure, but he was lost in thought. The kind that pinched up his face, he appeared compliant if you asked, but was clearly dodgy if you tried to figure out why. Asking for additional time with each question on his well being, it made you feel a sort of hopelessness. He was clearly feeling guilty about something out of his control. He did his best to make it up to you where he could, but there was something vexing him deeply.

For the time of year, you acknowledged the two special occasions coming up. One for hearts and the other of sentimentality, it wasn’t like Donnie to think so openly. You doubted he’d sulk over planning anything as important as your anniversary, which meant something else was bothering him.

It had gone on for nearly a week and not once had you gotten used to it. Instead, it was like an ever present weight in your heart each time you saw him thinking over his cause. You found him more often as of late, when you got home from work, still listlessly sitting at his desk. He’d been obviously ruminating and the way his monitors had timed out said how long he’d been at it. You played the dutiful partner and only pressed for hugging reassurances that you would always be there, whenever he was ready.

That day just so happened to be today.

“I… need to go to the Hidden City.”

He’d spoken suddenly after making you both warm drinks and offering one to you.

You had been reaching out to take yours and felt your hands hang there. “Is that…?”

“My status remains ‘wanted’.”

“Do… you need to go back into hiding?”

The cup offered in his hand lowered. “No.”

“I’m guessing the others haven’t broken their promise since you haven’t gone to maim them.”

“The rat’s word still stands.”

“Is something wrong?” You hesitated on the topic you were bordering on.

“I didn’t mean to make you guess.” He renewed his effort to give you your drink.

This time you got proper hold of it. “I’m not going to force you.”

“I’m…” He held out with distress painting him until he exhaled a modicum of it away. “I’m going to withdraw my holdings there.”

Your eyes shot wide. “Wait…”

“I know.” He gestured that he would sit.

You scooted backward into your spot on the couch so he could take his.

“I’ve been… debating. Pros and cons. Gut reactions. Integrated decision maps. I’ve run analysis. I’ve dusted off age-old algorithms. I’ve-!” He caught on more and sank down to stare into his mug. “Recently, you’ve allowed me to dabble further in my old habits and it has… summoned… interesting feelings.”

You folded yourself up close to translate you’d listen for as long as need be and sipped the liquid. Something new, you glanced down at it and found it in line with your tastes.

“I… enjoy my work, but I wonder if I prefer it because it is familiar or if it actually brings me joy.”

“You seemed like you were having fun watching Hypno and Warren destroy the place.”

He smiled a little and took the tiniest sip. “True, but… they made up.”

You nodded, letting the drink warm your body. “You were hoping otherwise.”

“I saw their qualms as advantageous. With Warren out of the way, I could extract more product from Hypno, but… to what end? Why? Why… do I… do this? Why…?”

You waited with curling fingers around hot ceramic.

“My holdings here make more than enough money. I live comfortably. I have what I need. My freedom, my… you. That comment Warren made…”

He’d made many; you took a sip.

“Is that our future?”

“No.” You broke in. “Warren’s an idiot and a jerk.”

He looked right through you. “Are you doomed to be my accomplice? Will you allow me to break and pillage and ruin while looking the other way because you care?”

“Donnie…”

“And the aftermath!” Something about the way he looked at his mug made you think he might pour it over his head. “To keep you separate is to keep you at bay. Allowing you close endangers you. I cannot undo what I’ve done. That is my life!”

You set your mug aside and crossed the space to hold his forearm.

The liquid in his cup vibrated outward.

“Hey.”

This time he saw you. “I don’t want that for you. For us. For our kids.” He gasped on the admittance and choked looking away. “I like it. I do. I enjoy it. I know it. I’m good at it, but-!”

You took his drink and set it aside.

“Do I do all those things because it’s all I know? Like that fucking worm… Like… a wheel. I’m trapped on a wheel and I was supposed to live. How long have I been stuck-!?” He wheezed.

You rose to your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He held you and sank against your form. “I’ve been trying to parse it out, but I no longer know what’s real.”

You squeezed harder and he reached up to claw into your shirt.

“I’m scared.” He admitted with a heave and you felt the droplets seep into your clothes.

You held tight.

He’d never once admitted that.

Even after you’d been kidnapped, he never used those words.

He pulled you into his lap and buried himself down into the safety of you with only the plip plop of his running tears as a signal he was still present.

You refused to let go.

“I can only think to try.” His voice became shredded, warped and raw. “Start with the smallest, most superfluous holding in my portfolio and shut it. Tend the power vacuum and see how I feel. Will I experience loss? Will I care? Will I even notice?”

You stroked his carapace.

“I need to find out. I need to be sure before I do anything else. Before my declaration. Before I marry you. Before we move even a single step further forward. For me, for you.”

“You first.” Your own voice had a broken quality.

“Me first.” He agreed.

“I-” He teetered.

You found his chin and lifted him to eye level. “Not until you’re sure.”

He smiled through a shallow weep and touched the tip of his beak to your nose.

-

Compared to any other version of Donnie’s planning stages, this was something else entirely. He was under his own microscope and you could tell every move was one carefully scrutinized. It left him operating slowly and deliberately. He was hyper aware of each action and reaction to the point where you were sure something was penning down his existence with millisecond timestamps. He existed only as a written caricature, something without freewill that was only allowed to work within a script.

It was hard to watch.

A journey of self-discovery, he had to go about it alone.

You didn’t even know how to help even if you were allowed.

He was in a liminal space where the not knowing shredded him further. He held himself in such high regard and you had seen, first hand, what unknowns did to him. A whole spectrum of reactions, he’d gone the distance and yet still resided at a mysterious point. You were the sure thing in his life while everything else he’d known fell apart. You knew your part was played, something of a shepherd leading a weary traveler. You’d met while he was already on his journey, following a trail toward a life that was truly his own and he’d appeared on your field. There you had walked beside him to your boundary line and this marked the point where he would have to continue his quest alone.

You never left the fence.

You stared after his form no matter how tiny it got on the horizon.

The fact his path deviated was a far greater choice than any he’d ever been presented with. It was one, in fact, that he had thought was fully removed from him. Damned from an early age, he saw one trajectory of his life possible until that road lost pavement and turned to rubble. Soles cut and rotted flesh from neglect, he’d meant to die of his malady, but carrying on had widened his course.

Only he never looked up.

He stared down at the slog of his feet. 

You’d been there when his lids had first cracked and the full sight of his existence was one wider than he could comprehend.

He tried to force it, but it blinded him.

He couldn’t have it all.

A crossroads represented not only his choice in the matter, but that there was a greater existence possible for him.

The layered options overwhelmed him and their potency stripped him of his sense of self.

A vessel repaired, he stumbled forward not knowing which direction would be one that got him to his goals.

He’d wanted peace to work.

He acquired it.

He’d opened himself to love.

It was his.

He sought pleasure, big and small.

They were within his grasp, often and always.

What was left?

He didn’t so much lay out his business structure as he pinpointed what needed to be done. A dark that was meant to keep you safe, he gave you an itinerary. He would leave for the Hidden City on Monday and had projected a week to take care of letting this one business go. It meant laying low and moving under guise so as not to alert the authorities or competitors of his existence there. Somewhere he was wholly unallowed, he still had significant reach in that no one threatened his work even when he couldn’t be present.

That speaking largely to what he’d wanted and achieved, you had a certain awe for your mate.

He was an unstoppable force and though you knew he wasn’t unbreakable, it helped your faith in that he would make it through this.

He’d reach the other side.

He’d get his answer.

He’d return to your field, take your hand, and carry on with you in tow.

Until then, he would approach his business partners and contacts for this particular field and walk them through new procedures. Not expressively telling them he was removing himself, they would instead be under a child-like guise. One where you tell one parent the other said this and the other guardian the opposite, both parties would think responsibility was covered and they’d be none the wiser until they spoke.

Donnie estimated that they wouldn’t realize for at least a month and by that time the new system would be a stabilized one where they would simply accept he wouldn’t need them.

Their big mouths were the only thing left to chance. In the underworld, information reigned as the most important asset. Without that there was nothing to gain. You made no money without knowing its source. You held no power without holding something coveted. You were nothing to fear if you had no back up. The best case scenario were these contacts grew slovenly in their new positions and didn’t pipe up to ruin a good thing when the tyrant Donatello handed you gold on a silver platter.

It was the easiest of the sins while the others dictated the worst roads that could be taken.

Pride and bragging of having supposedly pulled one over.

Gluttony in thinking they could grab more.

Wrath that they were tricked.

Envy of one another and a vie to take full control.

Lust to use their growth as one alluring to conscript more onto their sides.

Greed in selling his weakness out.

Time would tell and Donnie was going to also strengthen certain protective holdings, as he called them, so as the filth would stay in the rotten city he despised.

You believed in him because he believed in you.

One week.

Seven days.

Technically 8 because he was due to arrive back first thing Monday morning.

You turned to your own plans.

You already knew you would need to keep busy. With Donnie out and wearing himself down both in a place that wanted his extermination along with all the danger the job itself entailed, you were ready to be a wreck. Communication wasn’t off the table this time, but it was a dodgy thing. He himself had been the one to wire the Hidden City for surface communication, but only so many Yokai cared to adapt. Usually only the ones that crossed the barrier wanted it, so connection points were relatively scarce and more often than not he wouldn't have service.

He promised you he would try to at least check-in once a day.

That would come in a variety of forms depending on his state, but even that wouldn’t be a guarantee or alarm.

You had to trust him to come back to you.

You did.

He didn’t pack and he bid you farewell clad in one of his convertible villain pieces. Dark layers that concealed both a litany of weapons and armor, there was little to hug that was actually him. You settled for what you could which ended up being slung high around his head and he had kissed you in stages.

Desperation.

Longing.

Love.

The last lingered with promise which he trailed to your ear to whisper not reassurances, but his affections. Everything save the titular confession, you held him in to press foreheads and noses before releasing him. He committed you to memory, brought his scarf up to hide himself, thought enough to lower it so you could see his parting smile, and left.

You were alone.

You had work.

You had also gotten ready for it too soon.

It meant you had little to do and ended up at first pacing the apartment. Looking for even the tiniest spot to maybe put something neglected away, you found little. Your deep cleaning had been done not too long ago. The most you found was one errant piece of mail that only needed to be moved from the kitchen counter to a sorting bin on Donnie’s desk and you were left with nothing more to do. You decided to text Shelly. When you had made your plans with him for tonight, you’d realized all too quickly that you’d only ever reached out to him via your tech gauntlet. You’d felt infuriated having had to ask Donnie for his number, but when you texted to automaton the revelation, he only chuckled and said it hadn’t occurred to him either. 

You: You up?

Shelly: File that under the ways to start a booty call

You: Why do you choose violence at all hours?

Shelly: I take after my papa

You:  Alright, I see how it is

Shelly: ☹️

You: Just checking in about tonight

Shelly: Ah dad just left I see

You: Please!

Shelly: You only ever text me when you’re lonely 😭

You: I do not! Since I got your number I’ve been sending you all kinds of stuff

Shelly: …

You: ?

Shelly: I GUESS!

You: Gotcha

Shelly: But yeah we’re still good. Want me to sleep over?

You paused and stared down at your phone.

You: That’s sad

You: Sleepover with your mom just cause dad’s on vacation?

You: Makes me sound like some elderly person who’s been with their spouse for like 30 years and is going to die of heartbreak

Shelly: Cause he died and left you all alone with the farm house!

You: Hey!

You: NO

You: SHELLY

Shelly: FUCK

Shelly: I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

Shelly: WAIT STOP GO BACK

You: YOU GO BACK WTF

You: YOU SAID IT!

The next message you got was a video of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. making a rectangle with his hands before one of the mechanical arms of his came into frame and sliced the box in half.

You: what was that?

Shelly: It wards off bad luck!

You: It better!

Shelly: Sleepover to make up for it? 😀

You: Spoiled brat

A digital sticker appeared of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. snickering and it distracted you all the way to work as you found out he had an entire set of emotes based on himself. Working in tandem with shotty service on public transit, you got the pack uploaded to your phone.

Work took over next. There was a busy enough load of things to do and they were just interesting enough to be distracting. Your ex-roommate Coral checked in around lunch under the guise of making fun of you and you ended up talking to her on speaker perched somewhere outside while you ate. It was a bit too cold for it, but the conversation kept you warm.

The afternoon tumbled away and eventually you were on your way home. Shooting a message to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. that you were inbound, you found a shadow figure exuding way too much energy standing right outside your apartment.

“Someone’s going to call the cops on you.” You folded your arms behind him.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. turned with a bright glowing smile. “They already did! Mrs. Kaczmarek!”

“Of course it’d be her…” You wilted before something buoyed you concurrently. “You didn’t talk to her did you!?”

“Nah.” He pointed up the building. “She was staring at me through the blinds so I waved.”

You caught his arm through the sleeve of his big jacket. “She cannot see you go into my apartment!”

“Why?” He tilted his head with genuine curiosity.

“She thinks me and Donnie are living in sin! I don’t know what she’ll do with the whole kid thing!”

He snorted. “I’m gonna introduce myself.”

“No! Didn’t you hear me!?” You meant to tug him, but he scooped you up like the bag he had under his other arm.

Hanging your limbs in indignity, you glowered at him as he merrily skipped up the steps with loud percussive metal thumps. “Let’s spin it! Donnie is a single father widower!”

“I can walk!”

“This is more fun!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. sang as he ascended the steps two at a time. “Okay anyway, so he had me way too young and it was all a mix up and omigosh what if you guys were high school sweethearts and you had a tryst, but then my fake mom passed me off as yours and also you were conscripted into the mafia and then it’s enemies to lovers!”

“What have you been watching?!” He set you down when you reached your apartment’s floor.

“Telenovelas. Wait, why?” He paused to think.

You yanked the bag out of his hand in a fit of retaliation but immediately wilted under his weight. “Holy shit!”

“Ah!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shouted more for sympathy and caught both you and the bag.

“What is this!?” You stared up at him.

“My pajamas.” He checked you over.

“Pajamas?” You unfolded the top and screeched as S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s lifeless head appeared as the contents.

A metal hand clamped over your mouth. “Okay, I’m gonna own that it’s been pretty funny keeping your heart rate up, but the bag thing wasn’t meant to be part of the joke!”

You hummed ‘what do you mean?’ as loud as you could against his paw.

“It’s just my drone body. I was going to switch to it so I can fit in bed with you. I’m pretty sure I exceed the weight limit like three times over in this body.” He let go slowly. “Pajamas? Get it?”

You pinched his hat and yanked him down to eye level. “Punishment! No scary movies!”

“Mom!!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. whined loud and long.

“Mom?” Mrs. Kaczmarek’s distinct voice came from down the hall.

“Fuck.” Your eyes widened and you didn’t have to look to know she was headed your way.

“Language!” Mrs. Kaczmarek huffed and you heard her shuffling footsteps.

“Mafia?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s brows wiggled digitally.

You glared mania right into his eyes. “Big brother program and you’re weird. That’s final.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. clucked happily as the old woman cornered you.

-

After S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had dragged you out early for breakfast the next day, you bid him farewell on your way to work. He had a multi-day tournament that would be keeping him busy the next few days and Coral was next on your docket. Another working grind smoothed out the edges of your sanity and you ended up meeting her for an impromptu dinner. On her dime, you were relentlessly teased for being codependent which then rolled over into how badly you’d fail at long distance. You did your best to defend yourself, but when you got a ping from Donnie, the speed at which you’d scrambled to your phone only confirmed all her points.

You didn’t even care to defend yourself as the single purple heart in your message chain was one that sent your spirits sky high.

It inadvertently ruined her fun in the process and you were invited back to her place for drinks.

Now onto more genial conversation, you’d entered your old apartment to find your nervous friend Nelson, bent over the oven with the frilliest apron you had ever seen covering his torso.

He lifted up with a tray of cookies and, as you both roasted him, he defended himself saying form didn’t matter as much as utility.

Still cackling, the conversation shifted to a light hearted one as Nelson continued to bake for a donation sale.

Instead of stumbling home, you crashed in Coral’s bed and she kicked you out bright and early as if she hadn’t been there as your rock for the last 12 hours.

Doing a walk of shame that felt particularly comical since it no longer cracked the top ten of your worsts since meeting Donnie, you felt the first bout of truly missing your boyfriend. Something about walking the streets alone and knowing he wasn’t there or home waiting for you stung. Your shower at your apartment was a sullen one and the trip to work moved at an achingly slow pace.

You: Hey

You: Not sure when you’ll get this

You: Looks like the messages are going through though so that’s good

You: I did not want to relive those stupid red errors

You: I just wanted to say I miss you

You: Hang in there and best of luck ❤️

Staring long at the message chain even when no read receipt came, you pocketed your device as you went to work. A clock in and clock out sort of day, you’d had lunch with your gossipy coworker who you felt like you hadn’t seen in ages. He was the same as always and had many dishes to serve up. Trying to focus on consuming what he offered, who’d been kicked from the #random slack sat in your head like an ear worm until the end of the day where tonight marked the resurrection of game night. One where you only knew your chill friend Kaleb, as the host, and his board game obsessed friend, D-Kline, the rest of the attendants were new to you and you hoped keeping up with the crowd would offer a better distraction.

The night had been one of hotly debated conspiracy theories which went well with the game where you had to oust the player who was a secret villain.

The imagery was thankfully one that only nipped at your heels.

Home came especially dark when you clicked on the light and the lived in feel of the space was one that felt synthetic.

Another sleep would fast track you to Thursday which led to Friday. Both days you’d been unable to fill, you’d be on your own and, for that fact alone, you didn’t want to go to bed. You ended up staying up until the wee hours of the morning scrolling and feeling worse for it mentally and physically. It made the next day an absolute slog and a part of you enjoyed the suffering.

It was hard to think about being lonely when your head was pounding relentlessly.

Getting home came with crashing on the couch and waking sometime late. A devastating blow to your sleep schedule, you ate something microwaved for dinner. Consuming it standing in a dark kitchen, you checked your phone as almost an afterthought to find yesterday and today’s messages from Donnie.

Donnie 💜: As busy as I am, I also have time on my hands. It gives me the space necessary to consider what I must. Though manufactured for such purpose, I care little for it. Introspection is not something I’ve ever had the luxury to entertain and going about it alone has been trying.

Donnie 💜: I want to know I am doing this for the right reasons and I can’t help but think of you when I attempt to consider what those are.

Donnie 💜: I miss our bed.

Donnie 💜: I miss your scent.

Donnie 💜: Your smile.

Donnie 💜: My chest aches.

Donnie 💜: I should have taken more photographs.

And.

Donnie 💜: You have not responded and I hope that is because you are busy.

Donnie 💜: Take care of yourself.

You stared long at his messages until you felt weepy.

Squeezing your lids shut in an attempt to turn off the main for waterworks, you typed out a lengthy explanation of all the things you had been doing to keep busy. Veritable walls of text, you hoped that would give him some distracting material so he wouldn’t have to suffer completely alone with his thoughts.

You knew that curse all too well.

You punctuated the whole thing off with something short and liminal.

You: I’ll dream of you tonight, meet me there

You lowered your phone and felt exhausted at the prospect of having to prepare for bed when a little vibration in your hand caught your attention.

Donnie 💜: I will try as hard as I can.

With your phone crushed to your chest you drowned in your love for him.

Washing up, changing, and getting into bed, you lay in the middle with your body turned toward his side. There you conjured a ghost of him, the one you knew long and well. You willed him to your subconscious. Transferring residuals of his essence that must have been left behind, you focused all your thought on bringing his memory with you to the dreaming world.

You woke after a night of empty sleep.

It stung.

With little will, you prepared for the day which felt like sand falling through your fingers. All too fine for you to hold, it trickled between meetings and calls. Through the cracks of your mailbox and debris in the bottom of your water bottle, you refilled it only to disrupt the silt. It manifested tiny pebbles in your shoe that no amount of shaking could rid. It made seats in public transit craggy ones and as you entered your apartment you dropped to the floor with dramatics at the thought of having to repeat that process.

You fell asleep on the couch with a movie blaring all night.

The next morning, Friday, you barely made it through your routine and had started to berate yourself for your theatrics. The voice grew louder as you exited the apartment and you saw, but didn’t respond to a few messages from friends. Donnie’s daily message had been lost to yesterday’s sieve and you soured further. Your aura read one to keep away and that only exaggerated your loneliness.

You ate alone.

You worked alone.

You went home alone.

You were done.

Done with work and done with distractions, you fell into self loathing.

Five days?

There were people who lost their loved ones for lifetimes.

They carried on.

You felt pathetic and small.

A fury misplaced, you couldn’t send it to your partner because he was trying to maneuver something monumental.

That left you the punching bag and with it came takeout.

Far too much and way too expensive, you ate pure grease and turned on trash TV. Soon yelling at those pandering, you fell asleep sitting up and buried amongst blankets and Styrofoam.

When you woke up with a start the next day, it came with wiping fingers and leaving greasy marks on your shirt.

You forewent cleanliness in an attempt to wallow.

A crawling sensation of oil coating you inside and out, your phone was your magical friend that could bring more food without you having to move much.

Counting 23 steps from your spot on the couch to the door, you lapped that on the return trip to devolution with TV and a dripping to-go boxes.

Your frame of mind shifted with your meal.

You would have this.

You would let yourself mourn that which wasn’t even gone.

Why fight it?

You were allowed to be sad your boyfriend had left.

You weren’t supposed to trust your thoughts and feelings from late at night.

Everything was a process.

When was the last time you’d become a vegetable?

The terribly named cheat days were supposed to be a thing.

They kept you even and sane.

There was nothing wrong with indulgence as long as it was done in moderation.

You put yourself on a timeline.

You could live this way through Sunday if you wanted.

Then you were going to boil everything for safety.

You’d welcome Donnie back as if you hadn’t fallen off the wagon momentarily.

You’d tell him what happened.

Maybe later.

Way later.

After you knocked him clean to the floor and hung off him like a koala for say five to six straight hours.

You’d get your fill and then open up.

Donnie 💜: Switch in progress, results tentatively promising

You felt like you weren’t present in this world when you got the message.

A ground ball that you dove for, you came up dusty from it, but satisfied you’d staved off a run.

It felt like a cosmic truth.

You were okay.

Your feelings were valid.

Things would work out.

The Indian food you’d gotten for dinner was lethally delicious.

This time the food coma you put yourself in was a willing one.

No guilt, only decadence, you were cradling a far too large slab of garlicy naan and chewing on one end like a cow with cud. Saturday evening entertainment came in the form of a television show about a burnout trying to make their way. With bigger narratives obviously edging into the plot, you binged through season one and two before you felt yourself losing lengths of dialog. The bread on your chest had gone, but its scent and weight lingered.

A confusing ghost, you fell to the side, kicking napkins and tissues away until your own blanket acted as your pillow and you were the wad of gum stuck inside. Characters kept talking, they were relentless in that way, and your lids fell with the dialog feeding ticker tape into your dreams. Coming out your ears on a steady pump, the click clack of the printer was a metronome that dictated your heartbeat.

There was the distinct click of the door.

You cracked your eyes and saw a TV logo appearing and disappearing on a screen long fallen asleep.

Blue light bathed your form and you sat up to hear something soft like the weight of a bag hitting the floor.

Slow to turn, you found a large silhouette standing in the doorway and eating up darkness like a growing mass.

Without definition and somehow not rim lit by the television, you squinted at the mannequin and how it was half bent in setting a messenger bag down.

“Wrong… apartment…?” You ventured to the apparition.

“Y/N…?” Donnie’s voice came from it.

You stared as the being stood straight.

Silence beat dehydrated percussion in your ears.

“Did you…?” You asked and were interrupted by a wave of nausea.

You felt repulsive.

What a time for him to finally show up in your dreams.

He stepped towards you and you sort of registered one of his hands raising up to his face. “Did I what? Why are you sleeping out here-?”

You blinked one at the rude manifestation of your boyfriend.

Your mind had gone for a portrayal that was a bit too accurate.

You wanted dream Donnie to whisk you away on a white horse.

“What is that smell?” He gagged and finally took on close enough clarity to highlight that he had pulled his scarf down.

You might have been mad if you weren’t trapped by his face.

Lit from below, his hollowed out eyes were cast in a worse light. Pupils thin and lifeless, they sat atop eye bags that were triple the natural ones baked into his body from years of neglect. From around his scarf, his cheeks sunk against his features and there was visible grease blotched and giving his already green complexion an even sicklier hue. “You look like shit.”

“You smell like it.” He stared down at you.

You had to squint one last time before you pulled your arm from your cocoon.

Pinching your shoulder, you winced at the jolt of pain before turning up comprehension to your partner.

He softened a little around his scrunched beak.

In what felt like exactly three moves, you unearthed yourself, climbed straight up the back of the couch, and launched yourself at him.

He caught you with open arms and you both collapsed onto the floor where you wiggled until all of you was wrapped around him.

“What are you doing here?!” You yelled into his tympanum. “It’s Saturday still, right?! Did I miss it!? Did I sleep through Monday!?”

He squeezed you hard around the center until you squawked with pain. Then he went a calculated slack before his digging digits held you close to him with no intention of letting go. “It’s technically Sunday. 1:07am when I unlocked the door. I…”

You rose up and he relented from cupping the back of your head to holding your cheek.

You kissed him.

He returned it in earnest.

“Donnie…” You cooed against his mouth and he sealed the sound back up.

Now drinking each other in, you felt him shudder as he licked into you and you could only imagine the sour taste. You hadn’t properly showered since Wednesday and your teeth had gone unbrushed for at least 24 hours. Breaking every one of his cardinal rules and only seeming to care on some subconscious level, he nipped at you to get your attention back.

You.

He wanted you.

Even in this state. 

You kissed him hard enough down into the floor that it clicked his skull against the ground. He cared little and hoisted you up further, trying to keep all of you held as you made out. Taking time and then some, you eventually broke with a gasp where lightheadedness said that you had gone way past some reasonable point and your usual sensors for self-preservation were offline if only to have more of him.

His beak twitched with repugnant scents and you rooted down to tug messily at his scarf. It loosened and revealed musky skin where sweat had been long baked in. It made you remember he’d left in the same outfit he had now returned in and you licked a fat stripe over his pulse to taste the salt and sour of neglect.

“Acting all high and mighty.” You tutted against him and began to work a hickey into the flesh despite knowing it probably wouldn’t work.

He gave his first chirp.

You immediately sank your teeth into his throat without holding back.

His knees kicked up and slammed into your ass as he gave you a honed chirp.

“Fuck!” His limbs went loose.

You removed your fangs and mouthed satisfaction.

“Me?” He grunted, shoving up your dirty pajamas to feel the skin of your back. “You were busy. You were taking care of yourself. What happened?”

“I was.” You broke from his skin with a pop and pressed a wet kiss to the underside of his chin. “Then I got lonely.” You returned to your spot and sucked as hard as you could.

He quaked beneath you. “W-wait…!”

You relented only enough to talk against his skin. “What?”

“Are you alright though?” He pet you with worry.

“Now, I am.” You gave up your mark to kiss his neck tenderly. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you.”

“You say it so easily.” You tempered your voice to speak against his head.

“There’s been a change.”

“Oh?” You lifted up to see him.

Though it pained him, he pleaded with you. “Shower. We must shower. Together. Has to be together and now.”

“Fine, but you talk while we do it.”

“That was implied.” He gave the barest smile before your whole world shifted.

Now bundled in his arms, he carried you with a bouncy step to the bathroom. He deposited you next to the sink and you watched him prepare your toothbrush. Passing yours over and then getting his, you shared coy glances in the mirror. As soon as you were done, but right before you could spit, it had clearly been too long because he dipped down and forced his minty mouth against yours.

The kiss pushed you into the wall and you made a little spindly moan.

He retreated with a dry heave and was forced to scrub his mouth out a second time before he finally rinsed.

You followed soon after and fluttered your lashes at him as you spit.

He looked away with a gag and gave a stubborn grunt.

“I gross you out.” You teased him and he went only far enough to turn the shower tap on.

“The horror…” He said without emotion and caught your waist.

“You still want me though.” You leaned in sweetly.

What you thought was a tender move was immediately subverted because he’d actually caught your shirt and yanked it straight up, muffling you.

“Hey!”

“Feel free to return the favor.” He pulled too hard which snapped your arms up.

Even you could smell your body odor.

It caused him to slow, where his pupils changed sizes and your shirt fall like an afterthought to the ground. “Odd…”

“What?” You caught one end of his scarf and pulled so it choked him.

He snorted, wheezed, and wiggled his fingers up into the threads to loosen it. “Your scent.”

“I stink. I got that much.” You were undoing buttons on his outermost layer which you had never realized was a cardigan.

“Filth should deter your natural scent, meaning it should be repulsive but…” He was clearly trying to follow some line of thought, but you got his top undone and shoved backward.

He shook with a form of whiplash and countered by rocking back to shove your bottoms off. 

Now nude, you gazed into his eyes where he’d dropped to your level.

He caught the back of your neck to save it from the force of his kiss.

A wet one, it spoke of salvia and how you’d made his mouth water.

You curled into him and despised the layers he still had on as it separated you.

He found it just as annoying because he released and together you both stripped him in a stumbling mess.

He nearly fell into the shower as you whipped the curtain back and chased his unstable form into the warm spray.

Both instantly lulling at the sensation, you pressed together to enjoy it at the same time. A fire smothering flame, it held a heated tiding that reminded you that you were together and that was the point. It shifted to tender touches, drinking in the moisture on each other’s skin as you both reached for soap. Washing each other without pretext, you would often find yourself simply leaning against him for the sake of it. He churred loud enough to beat the nozzle and, as he mapped out the lengths of your skin, he tapped his beak against nearly all points as if to leave unseen pieces of himself behind.

By the time you exited, you had found there was a limit to what had prior been an endless stream of hot water from Donnie’s systems.

You dried off in fluffy towels and Donnie looked like he’d collapse from satisfaction at the slightest provocation. Wanting only to pamper him further, you showed him his muscle cream. He went to take it, but you pulled back to indicate you wanted to apply it. It pricked his eyes with happy tears that he squeezed away and offered you his arm. Working the solution into his neglected muscles, it was with such great comfort that his churrs broke. Imagining them on some supersonic level, you moved in an overflowing silence to get his other arm, neck, and finally his carapace.

He was without bones as you finished and you had to act as his walker to get him to bed.

He looked like he might say something, but was teetering in and out of consciousness as you sat him on the edge of it.

You gave a soothing hum and got a hold of clean wraps.

This time he was completely malleable in offering his limbs.

With the best approximation of the many times you’d seen him wrap himself, you applied them one slow rounding at a time.

It brought his churrs back and by the time you secured his neck, he kissed you with sweetness. 

“Marry me.” He mumbled between brushes to your lips.

You were equally drunk on the moment, you relished the little way your lips tried to cling to each other. “What…?”

He only kissed you more, in a way that spoke of need and pulled you into the bed.

Falling to his side, he turned right into you to give chaste press after chaste press and stroked your cheek for good measure.

You spent what must have been hours like that until exhaustion kept him from reciprocating.

Laying the wrong way in bed, you pulled up the bottom sheets to cover him the best you could.

He gave that honed chirp unprovoked and you kissed him with the desperation it always conjured. “What is that, Donnie? Please…?”

“You’ve… never asked…” He told you as his hand ghosted over your form as if to absorb your energy.

“Tell me now?” You pressed the tip of your nose to his beak.

“Mating call.”

You blinked wide, looking at him up his snout.

“For my mate.” He spoke, almost cheeky and stole another kiss.

Your heartbeat a little too fast and you found yourself cuddling into him.

“Mate.” He confirmed again and this time you found him checking your pulse to feel how your heart skipped a beat.

“You asked me to marry you.” You spit without venom.

He had the audacity to chuff. “There’s no way.”

“You did. Tonight, or… uh, this morning. Not that long ago.”

“I did not.” He gave a gentle pressure to your arm to make you look up at him.

You saw a dash of fear swirled into worry and fatigue in his gaze. “You did…”

“No…” His expression grew grave.

“Donnie.”

“That can’t be. Let me take it back.” He gave a faint growl as he rolled you over to hang above your head. “I didn’t!”

“Don.” You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Don’t laugh! Before I’ve said I love you?! Do you know the amount of planning I’ve had in place!? To work up to this?! I refuse to waste it on-on-on being mildly out of sorts at most!” His eyes darted wildly and without source. “Erase it! You will forget that you ever heard-!!”

You stared up at him with a watery expression that you were trying very hard to contain.

“Did…? Did I…?” He hung, mortified, above you.

You could only nod and tried to hide your mouth.

He tipped once, then twice, before his body came down around you in a whine. “I’m a mess!”

You moved deliberately in petting his carapace.

His churrs were weak and sad.

You thought against his head for a moment before summoning your strength. He felt the tide of your body shift and turned to study you curiously. Surely only seeing your face puckered, you breathed in as deep as you could and mustered the sound only he’d been able to produce.

You gave your approximation of the mating call.

Before the sound fully left you, his lips were on yours and his tears met your cheeks to escape.

You held him tight and returned the fervor.

“You-” He broke the lip lock as if to scold. “You-you-!”

You held his head so you could send him a honeyed gaze.

He shook your frame with a deafening mating call and kissed you deeply.

Melting into one, he slowed with reluctance to pull you the right way into bed. There you snuggled down together, giving pecks where possible to soothe the need until you were wound into a singular form.

“We were silent all during the washing. It was supposed to be a given, but I haven’t given my explanation…” He lamented.

“Now or later?” You nuzzled his throat.

He gave a faint hum. “I rushed my return home.”

You pursed your lips and pulled away to view him.

“I couldn’t stand another day without you.”

“Coral says we're codependent.” You told him while stroking his plastron.

“After this showing…?” Donnie’s brow ridge lifted in what had once been his patented look.

“I think… I mean I was in a dark place for a day, but… I don’t know. I think we’re fine. We do live our lives separate, but together. So what if we don’t want to be apart long term? Isn’t that why we’re dating?”

He gave a faint smile and kissed your forehead. “Which day was dark, my heart?”

“Friday…” You tucked your leg further where it was between his.

You felt his tail curl against your skin as if to hold you. “Then four days is too many. Three will be the max from now on.”

You couldn’t help the little jolt of joy that gave you.

It must have felt similarly for him because he gave you a bubbling peck.

You hummed content and he returned it with a similar chirp.

You gave your mating call.

He returned it with his.

You shoved into him and he welcomed you close.

“How were you?” You asked, settling into his scent.

“Let’s say it was all dark.” He spoke into your temple.

“I thought there was a change?”

He gave an affectionate chirp and nuzzled you. “There has.”

You slid a hand up to his neck to feel his pulse.

It beat evenly for you. “It was around the same time as yours. Before I gave my progress note. Days spent in the slums. Breathing the rancid air I once favored… I… I suppose it is at your lowest you receive the best perspective.”

“Donnie-”

“I know…” He kissed an apology for cutting you off. “I must learn the hard way it seems.”

You gave a reluctant nod.

“I don’t like that way of life, experiencing it now. If distilled, I suppose I like controlled chaos. I like knowing an outcome. I like watching the world burn, but… I don’t believe I prefer it by my hand. Call it entertainment as it would need to be a collapse that doesn’t affect you in the slightest.”

You leaned up where you were tucked under his chin.

He stroked your spine. “I did not sleep once the entirety of the time I was gone. Not for lack of trying, but it was as if my body could not rest knowing it was without yours.”

Your eyes closed.

“Hallucinations came at a certain point. I am built for higher tolerance, but that does not mean my mind does not slip.”

You slipped your fingers into the hinge of his shell.

He squeezed you lightly. “Nothing to fear. Can I share with you what I saw?”

You forced yourself to hear the first half of his sentence. “What?”

“I saw you. I saw us. I saw memories. I saw things yet to come…” He trailed off and you could feel him smiling. “I saw happiness that I was worthy of.”

You held him close.

He dipped his lips to press your forehead. “My truest desire was not one of ruin. It was working in my lab, you visiting me with a stroller. A life full.”

“Those loose lips of yours.” You kissed his neck. “You’ve brought up babies a few times now. What happened that being only pillow talk?”

“Would you like kids?”

“With you?”

He gave a single offended grunt. “Who else?”

“We might need to adopt…” You leaned your worries into him.

The blood test. 

Negative.

Not for a lack of trying. 

There was the catchall of his birth control, but you weren’t sure if that was really the only cause. 

He seemed unaffected. “The child would still be ours.”

You snapped your head up to see him.

“It would still be with me.” He spoke reassurance.

You kissed him. “Yes, someday.”

He lingered against it. “I’m withdrawing from the Hidden City completely. I’ll transfer all my holdings. I’ll cherry pick my successors. I will go only legitimate… with more than a few offshore accounts.”

“I thought you weren’t allowed…?”

“I’m not allowed to fully quit. I will forever be a sort of target, but I also know the system better than anyone. I was raised by it. If I restructure everything and leave no one wanting, they will be less inclined to come after me.”

“It sounds easy, but-”

“It will not be. This will be an extremely dangerous, arduous, tedious, and a miserable change. Any other version of me would despise how flagrant I’m being. Needlessly selfish. I’m spitting in my own face.”

You studied him before stroking his jaw and smiling. “You’re morally grey.”

He bobbed with laughter. “I like that.”

“Yeah?” You moved to kiss him.

He took your lips, greedily. “Very much so.”

“You’ll be happy?”

“I am happy.”

You swam in a light blush. “I meant doing this. This is… huge… Donnie, this has been your life.”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, I will kick and scream. I may also have to bend our rules and commit a few vile acts. A show of power even in retreat is a potent one.”

“You’re going to kill?” You stared at him knowingly.

“A few… It is yet to be seen, but I imagine… five…? Or so tops…?” He grimaced.

“Only if necessary.” You leaned into him with a shake of your head.

“Of course.”

“I… I’m not sure how to feel. If this is what you want, you know I support you, but it feels…?”

“Surprising? Sudden? As if this isn’t actually occurring?”

“That and way more.”

“It has been a drawing culmination. I feel as though I am dangling from an invisible thread. I am sure I am held as I haven’t fallen, but it seems improbable that I have not died.”

You tried to picture that.

“I suppose I could have… What an interesting choice of afterlife for someone such as me…” He flicked his gaze and caught your lips.

You kissed back his comedy.

“My concerns are my own. Overall, I have full confidence. You cinched it.”

“Me?”

“Seeing you. I have spent all this time back in my natural habitat unsettled. Miserable. Plagued by insomnia. Taking no pleasure in my favorite game of manipulation.”

You gazed into his eyes.

There was only truth in them. “The moment I stepped into our home, all that ill will evaporated. I was whole again. Immediately soothed. I believe that is why I enjoyed the hacking and the destruction of the double date. I had you by my side.”

“You like being bad with me?” You asked with a light tease.

“I like being anything with you.” He bumped his beak to your nose. “However, I did take that into account. I played out exercises in which you were my cohort.”

“We’ve played that more than once already.” Your lids lowered.

He lapsed into a momentary churr before clearing it with his throat. “In guise, yes. Enjoyed. Relished. Savored. In reality… I wanted to vomit. The thought of you having to deal with any percentage, no matter how small, of what is required to do of what I have done. Of…” His attention dipped, haunted. “More than what you’ve already suffered.”

You kissed him back to the present.

He came and nuzzled into you. “Never.”

You settled comfortably against his lips.

He pulled away the slightest amount and you felt the flicker of worry. “Unless, of course, that is what you desire…?”

You opened your eyes wide to translate how serious you were. “No. Not even. Heroes and villains… the whole thing is… not good. I don’t… I don’t want to do either. I just want to be me and I just want to be with you.”

You watched emotions march through his ragged form. “You are so sure you won’t make mistakes…”

“I’m not.” You pressed your hands into the plastron over his head. “I’m as scared as anyone else.”

“You’re not scared of me…”

“You’re not a mistake.”

All hitting a breaking point, he enveloped you like a tide. You let the warm waters wash you out to sea where you had no worries for the depths supporting you. They were all known, even if they weren’t, and you had full trust that you and your partner would navigate whatever necessary.

NEXT

Both my betas are getting pummeled with work but they still make time for me! I can't thank @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 enough!!

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Cup of Coffee and a VHS | Pt. 3

Start with Pt. 1 HERE! ~ Jump back to previous Pt. 2 HERE!

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader Coffee Shop!AU

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Lucien continues to be a slight jerk, lots of awkward fluff, some sexually suggestive scenes/dialogue, fade-to-black style end of chapter

A/N: I apologize to anyone who's lactose intolerant, both for the choice of drink in this chapter and for the sheer levels of cheesiness.

It did snow that weekend, and heavily. Neil’s movie pick turned out to be perfect for the frosty atmosphere. You curled up on your couch and popped the VHS in, holding a hot drink with your fingers wrapped tightly around the mug to warm yourself. 

It was an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon. Though, you found yourself wishing that Neil could be curled up on the couch next to you. He seemed like the type who would have all sorts of fun trivia, and be able to spout off every movie that each actor had been in previously. That night, your mind sifted through fantasies of the two of you, cooped up together, sheltering out a storm. Preferably with less dire consequences than had been in The Shining.

The next morning, the world was awash with sparkly white. Although it took a few hours from the time you woke up to actually be able to see anything; of course, it was still dark by the time you were unlocking the door to your cafe. But slowly, the early morning’s pink light crept over the snow dunes, until finally everything outside your window looked almost blindingly bright. The reflection of the ice crystals somehow made winter feel just a little less harsh.

At around nine, Lucien came into your shop, ordered his usual, and reached across the counter to accept the paper cup and marker you offered him. You were already getting used to his idiosyncrasies. 

“So, I know Neil wouldn’t want me to tell you this,” Lucien began, marking an elegant cursive “L” on the cup as he began to write his name. “But I feel like it’s my responsibility as the foil-slash-trickster character in his life to do it anyway.”

You smiled, but furrowed your brows. You had no idea what Lucien was talking about. Was he always this… cinematic when getting involved in other people’s business?

“Okayyy…” you replied.

Lucien passed the cup and marker back to you, and you started getting his order ready. 

“You know Neil has a huge crush on you, right?” Lucien deadpanned.

“Umm…”

Your words failed you, and you froze with your hand in the jar of espresso beans, halfway through digging out a scoop. Lucien continued, undeterred.

“Before you mistake me for some kind of hopeless romantic,” he said, “I’m really just doing this to advance the plot past the ‘Neil fawns over his clueless love interest’ point. I’m sick of listening to him lament over whether or not he should ask you out.”

“W-why tell me instead of just pushing Neil to do it, then?” you asked.

“Oh, don’t worry - I’m playing this from both angles,” replied Lucien. “But if you’re not interested, I can tell Neil-”

“No!” you blurted, a little too quickly. “I mean, uh, you really don’t have to get involved…”

“Mm-hmm,” hummed Lucien, slowly. “Well, if you’ve got the balls to make a move, could you do it sooner than later? I can really only watch Neil make puppy-dog eyes out the window for so long.”

Your heart swelled at the thought of Neil, elbow resting on the counter and hand holding up his chin while he sighed, longingly. It was a dramatic image, but it seemed to fit him. You stifled a smile.

You handed Lucien his coffee and told him to have a good day, not making any promises about Neil. But of course, you were secretly brimming with excitement over the knowledge that he liked you back. You had spent plenty of time fawning after him the past few days. But you hadn’t allowed yourself to seriously consider the notion that he might feel the same way you did. Your heart sang as you swept the floor of your little coffee shop, and you hummed while you worked, lungs filling with anticipation.

That afternoon, you had a few errands to run after closing up your shop, but you made it a point to stop by Gumshoe so that you could return Neil’s video. More as an excuse to see him than anything, but the back of your mind wondered if maybe you should take Lucien’s advice and make a move. What kind of move, you had no idea - and you still didn’t have a plan as you pushed open the door of Neil’s store, making the little bell ring with your arrival.

“Hey, you’re back!” exclaimed Neil, hunched over behind the counter. 

He came out to greet you, standing at an awkward distance that was a bit too close for regular friendliness but too far to offer you a hug.

“Oh boy, coffee girl,” Lucien called from the couch, keeping up appearances on his antagonistic role.

“Ignore Lucien,” Neil told you, smiling in a way that made your heart do somersaults.

“I usually try to, unless I’m selling him coffee,” you joked, suddenly self-conscious about coming across as too mean.

Neil laughed, though, and your anxieties melted away. At least for a second, until he fixed you with a conspiratorial look that had your stomach in knots to match your pounding heart.

“I won’t say anything if you want to start triple charging him,” Neil said lowly.

“I can hear you!” Lucien shouted.

Lucien’s outburst broke the tension, and you and Neil were laughing easily with each other again. You wondered if it was just your imagination that something felt different between you now, as if there were many things left unsaid. Had Lucien told Neil that you liked him back? Probably. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, if it really did help get you past the awkward pining phase.

“So, what brings you in today?” asked Neil. Was it your imagination, or did he seem more nervous than usual?

“I’m here to return your VHS,” you replied, pulling the tape out of your bag. “Don’t want any late fees, right?”

“Wow, you watched it already?”

“Yep, and it was just as atmospheric as you said.” You smiled as you added, “But very creepy; I wish I hadn’t watched it alone.”

You were hoping that Neil would pick up on the hint, but instead he frowned a little as he took the tape from you.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh no,” you hurried to assure him. “I just mean I wish I’d had someone to watch it with.”

From the couch, Lucien coughed loudly. Neil, oblivious, still didn’t get the hint.

“Well, next time I’ll pick something less scary,” he promised. Your heart sank a little, but brightened when he said, “So, when can I stop by for my next drink so I’ll owe you another movie?”

There was something strangely endearing about hearing him so eager to be indebted to you. You remembered how Lucien had described Neil as having puppy-dog eyes, and now you could definitely picture it. The way he was looking at you, so much excitement over the idea of recommending a movie for you to watch.

“How about right now?” you offered. You were also eager to snatch up the opportunity. “The cafe’s closed, but I could whip you up something. I have an idea I think you’ll really like.”

You looked up at Neil through your eyelashes, trying to act a little demure. Knowing that he had a crush on you made you bolder.

“Sure,” Neil agreed, a smile lighting up his face. “Just let me grab my coat.”

You followed him to the door, and watched as he shrugged into his jacket and put on a wool hat. Before leaving, Neil called over his shoulder. 

“Lucien! You’re in charge while I’m gone.”

Lucien gave a thumbs-up, and threw you a knowing look. You were grateful that Neil had already turned around, pushing through the door before holding it open for you. It was already dark outside, and the streetlights illuminated the fresh snow as you walked down the street to your shop.

Neil kicked at a snowdrift as he walked, hands stuffed into his pockets. You mirrored him, shoving your hands deep into the folds of your coat, even though you wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his fingers around yours.

“I’m excited to see what you have planned,” Neil said.

It took you a moment to realize he was talking about the drink. Your breath puffed out in front of you as you spoke.

“I think you’ll really like this one,” you replied. “Very sweet; just like you.”

You glanced over to see Neil’s cheeks turn bright red. Maybe it was just the chilly air…

“I remember you said that the first time we met, too,” Neil laughed. “That I was sweet. You still think so, huh?”

“I do,” you replied, letting your shoulder bump against his as you walked. “But only because it’s true.”

You reached the front of your shop, and you bent down to twist your key in the lock. A burst of warm air rushed out when you opened the door.

“Come on in and warm up,” you told Neil. “Your face is red.”

Neil’s cheeks blushed an even deeper shade. That time was definitely not from the cold. He stepped in, and you followed, shutting the door behind you.

“Hey, I have an idea.” Neil smiled as you hung up your scarf. “Can we make this one a double and share a drink while I take you on a walk? I know a really nice park around here.”

You liked the sound of that. Being new to the area, you hadn’t had a lot of time to explore, and spending more time with Neil was something you wouldn’t say no to.

“That’s a great idea,” you beamed. “Two caramel hot chocolates, coming up.”

Neil seemed to perk up at your mention of hot chocolate. He followed you over to the counter as you stepped behind it to whip up your latest attempt at finding a drink that Neil would enjoy. You figured that everyone liked hot chocolate; unlike coffee, it was almost guaranteed to be universally loved. You poured the drinks into two to-go cups, and added whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel sauce to each.

“That looks amazing.”

Neil was practically drooling, and you knew you had hit on something good.

“See, this is why you should have just told me in the first place what you like,” you teased. 

“But if I had, would we ever have seen each other again after that first night?” Neil countered.

He had a point.

“Probably, but… maybe you wouldn’t have ended up lending me that movie,” you relented. 

“Exactly.” Neil took an eager sip, and licked at the whipped cream stuck to his lip. “And then, things might have turned out differently. A little chaos always leads to better adventures.”

It was an interesting thought, and you smiled as you recalled all the little swirls of chaos that Neil had added to your life. Even in the short time since you’d met him, life seemed a little more exciting and fun. He was different from you, but that was a good thing.

“Is that something Lucien says?” you guessed.

“Jonathan, actually,” Neil admitted. “Although Lucien is an agent of chaos.”

You laughed, and carried your own drink to the front door. Neil trailed behind you, shrugging his jacket back on.

“Come on, let’s get going before things get too chaotic around here,” you joked. “I was promised a nice walk through the park. And unlike some people, I’m not against saying that that’s exactly what I want.”

You wrapped your scarf around your neck, and you and Neil once again braved the chilly air, with hot drinks now in hand. The warmth seeped through your gloves, keeping your fingers comfortably guarded against the frigid temperature. As you took a sip, the hot chocolate warmed you from the inside as well, and you felt content as Neil guided you down the street toward the little park. As you got close, you caught glimpses of bright lights sparkling in the dark.

“Oh, wow,” you gasped as they fully came into view. “So pretty.”

The trees, bare of their leaves, had been wrapped in twinkling yellow lights. The whole park was full of them, and the beautiful display seemed to shine over the fresh snow. The effect was dazzling. Neil gave you a little nudge.

“Pretty like you.”

As he prodded you with his elbow, it was suddenly your turn to get flustered. You felt your face heat up, and looked down at your cup of hot chocolate so that Neil wouldn’t see you smiling.

You walked together in silence for a few minutes, taking in the spectacle. 

“So,” Neil’s voice cut through the chilly air, breath still puffing in front of him. “I’m sure you’ve probably already figured this out, but… I really like you.”

Your heart flipped with joy. Hearing the words come out of Neil’s own mouth was enough to send you soaring.

“Lucien… might have told me,” you admitted.

Neil laughed, an adorable little chuckle of embarrassment that made you fall a bit harder for him. He stopped walking and turned to face you, setting his paper cup down on the freshly-shoveled pathway. You did the same, wanting your hands free for whatever was going to happen next.

“Well,” Neil continued, “I hope he at least didn’t tell you about this. I got you a little gift.”

Neil reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, offering it to you.

“Since I technically still owe you for that first coffee,” he said. 

You opened the box, and a smile spread across your face. Inside was a pair of tiny charms on a gold chain. One was a little coffee cup, and the other was a VHS tape. The gesture was so adorable you were scared that your heart might burst.

“Neil, this is so cute!” you cried. “It’s us!”

A look of relief washed over Neil’s face.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said. 

“Of course I do. Neil, you really are the sweetest.”

A gust of sudden, frigid air blew through the park, causing you both to shrink into yourselves. Neil pulled the collar of his jacket up, trying to keep out the chill. You laughed.

“But you still don’t bundle up as much as you should,” you teased.

You took a step closer to Neil, untucking your scarf and wrapping it around the both of you. Your forehead pressed against his as you stood, bundled together against the cold. The frosty tip of Neil’s nose touched yours when you looked up at him.

“Maybe I just like having an excuse to share scarves with you,” Neil teased back.

His hands were shoved back in his pockets, and you moved a little closer, wishing he would put his arms around you.

“You know, you don’t actually owe me for that coffee,” you said softly. “I told you, the first one was free so you’d get addicted.”

Finally, Neil reached out and held you by the waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Well, I did get addicted to something, but it wasn’t the coffee…”

Your eyes closed, and Neil pressed his lips against yours. You could taste the sweetness of caramel as he kissed you, his warm arms wrapping around you a little tighter.

Neil’s eyes were still half-lidded when you pulled away. You felt your cheeks burn again.

“So does this mean you like me, too?” Neil asked. 

You giggled, the cold puff of your breath evaporating between you.

“Neil, you can be so dense,” you teased.

You leaned in for a second kiss, just as sweet as the first.

“Okay, I’m going to assume that’s a ‘yes,’” Neil breathed.

You nodded happily.

“This might be a bit forward, but… what do you say we get out of the cold?” you asked, reaching up to take hold of Neil’s collar as you pressed your body against him.

“You mean like… head back to my place?”

You nodded again, smiling as you bit your lip.

“Oh. Yeah. Yes - definitely,” Neil answered. 

He was so cute when he was flustered. You kissed him again, a little more passionately, and felt something start to press against you. You broke the kiss to tease Neil a little more, unable to help yourself.

“Is that a VHS in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Possibly… both?” Neil replied.

Your laughter echoed through the night air as you wrapped your arms tightly around Neil’s neck, throwing your head back. Being with him felt so freeing. Like you could laugh and joke and be yourself, so easily, while Neil did the same. 

“Let’s get going, then,” you whispered. “A little chaos makes the best adventures, right?”

Read Pt. 4 HERE!

[lost-in-time-marie]

At Arms Length

Today, I sit out in the dusk of night and listen to the storm roll through. I was napping, or trying my damnedest to. I felt myself almost give way to the peaceful shade of sleep. Something seized me at the last moment, jerked me back to the surface and I was restless once more. I found the world had missed me in my static absence, but none of them were the response I was anxiously, eagerly waiting on from the void.

Today, the storm starts furious. It’s all the grinding turbulence of thunder and flashes of brilliant streaks of white across the grey sky that slowly fades to midnight blue. The rain is hurled downwards, pelting everything beneath its might.

But storms never stay furious for long, they always lose all that anger and energy and demonstration. The booms fade to grumbles of a cantankerous old man. The rain pitter patters, collecting on blades of grass. All the human sounds of the world pick up once more.

In my daydreams, I’m always imagining telling you things. What it would be like to introduce myself to you, as a person, as a concept, not just a name and a title. Today, I tried to explain how I feel about crying. I laughed to myself and told you the story about your sister and how she started breaking down and crying in the Smoothie King one day and in that moment I thought I should touch her shoulder or hug her. I didn’t, I started to overthink the gesture, didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, didn’t want to make me uncomfortable. Later I’d tell you about the look on her face when I admitted I would rather gouge my own eyes out than cry in public. I tell you about how I feel like such a baby and a girl because I cry all the time now, without any reason or provocation, these stubborn drips of saline insisting on besting me. I tear up because I admit that I called you just to hear your voice, to hear you tell me so matter-of-factly that everything will be okay and I’ll do it. And even though I still remember you telling me I could do that, I could call any time I felt the anxiety spiral about the future. I can’t bring myself to do it now.

I wonder why I’m like that. I don’t know how to appreciate myself, love these little idiosyncrasies in first person. I am a perspective I can only love in third person. I can’t make eye contact with the reflection in the mirror, I can’t stand face to face with myself and feel a connection. Maybe that’s how I keep myself at arm’s reach. Maybe that’s as close as I can get to myself, as close as I can get to anyone, arms lengths away.

~K.

[omegalomania]

ive got a one free sincere poetical diatribe coupon that expires this week so im cashing it in on waxing lyrical about my favorite band for a minute cause im stupidly sleep deprived and its gonna be a long night so

the thing is this.

the thing is that maybe there isnt quite magic in this world but theres something to be said for the pure unfettered serendipity of a million little things conspiring to have certain peoples paths cross and the way this can change entire worlds. maybe i dont believe in magic but i believe in the unshakable fucking certainty that a 17 year old joe trohman had when he met a 17 year old patrick stump in a bookstore by sheer chance and listened to his demos and Knowing that he should sing despite patrick not being a singer and not particularly wanting to sing. i believe in the stone cold rock solid belief this kid had in this other kids voice to the point where he dragged his buddy over to his house to prove he had the pipes they needed. i believe in pete wentz hearing patrick stump sing in person for the first time and realizing wait, yeah, actually hes our golden fucking ticket. i believe in the last second just before patrick was about to get on the kit to record the drums for take this to your grave, andy hurley comes swinging in fresh from recording an ep with another band and knocking out every drum part damn near flawlessly. i believe in a band of scrappy dumb punk kids who grew up in the suburbs of the midwest and took over the world and didnt plan for any of it to get as big as it did. i believe in this weird fucking band with their weird fucking idiosyncrasies, this band of four guys who dont look like they should be friends let alone making music together: a heavily tattooed vegan straightedge beefcake drummer, the ambitious visionary bassist with the 50-megawatt grin, the tattoo-sleeved lanky guitarist with an inescapable rock 'n roll bent, the pixie-pale and painfully anxious frontman with the voice of a soul singer.

i believe theres a special kind of chemistry that only makes sense with the four of them, together. its the guy with the visuals and the words, this bassist who was supposed to be a lawyer or a star soccer player but instead crafts stories from the narratives he crafts in his head. its this guitarist with his love for the interleaving of sounds and ability to seamlessly jump from front-facing to incredibly restrained and his indelible blues-rock momentum. its this singer who never intended to sing but whose soaring, clear tenor is so utterly distinct that he quickly became one of the most iconic and versatile vocalists in the genre, if not in the world of music in general. its this hardcore drummer who pulls everything together and forms the throbbing heartbeat of the band, whose grit-edged metalcore backbone not even the poppiest of all pop choruses can truly file away.

i believe in this: andy hurley's unshakable faith that the band would reform during the hiatus, despite all evidence to the contrary. patrick stump writing the song that would become "miss missing you" for his solo record but then setting it aside because it didnt feel like it was for him, again, despite every indication that for all anyone knew, fall out boy was done for good. pete wentz, moved by a miserable blog post from his split-up bands singer, reaching out and sparking what was unheard of, especially for bands like them - a renaissance, a successful resurgence, and one of the best comebacks any musical act can say theyve had in decades. joe trohman picking up the phone and preparing to tell patrick stump that he wasn't ready to go back and do the band again if he wasn't going to be writing music, only for patrick to take the words out of his mouth and insist that he should be writing more and he was too talented a writer for them not to allow him space for that.

i believe in the little things. i believe in a band that was never expected to last a summer but has become an indelible part of music history, naysayers be damned. i believe in the unique chemistry of four guys who have no monetary or logistical reason to continue doing this thing aside from the fact that they love it so - they love the process of creating with one another, and they love the car crash hearts whose hearts beat in sync with theirs. i believe in joe listening to the first pass of "fake out" exactly once, picking up an acoustic guitar, and walking into record the instrumentation that ultimately pulled the entire song together in one take without thinking twice about it. i believe in andy simply knowing that "heaven, iowa" would make the final cut of the record despite patricks reticence and his not knowing how to make the song something he could say he was proud of. i believe in pete pouring some of his most vulnerable feelings into his, fearful of how well they will be accepted but making that leap nonetheless, only for the crowds to sing every single word back to him.

maybe theres no such thing as magic or fate and maybe theres no point. but i think of stardust. i think of four guys who poured so much love and time into this record and named it for stardust and i think of them as this: fistfuls of cosmic dust who all sprang from the same etiology. i think of them and its a romantic fucking notion but i allow myself this, i entertain the thought that when the cosmos formed and the detonation of planets and the dissolution of comets created that far-flung scatter of so much (for) stardust, that starry residue liberally dotting the broad span of the black, the four of them all came from the same origin point and like magnets ended up snapping together and thats the way theyve stayed. for years. for decades.

what i guess im trying to say is this: when the universe formed we all came from stardust and we will all return to stardust and i cant help but wonder if those four guys all came from the same stardust too.

like i said. its a romantic fucking notion. i believe in the little things though. and you know what they say about believers (never die).

[seelestia]

YEEE NPNP!! college was nervewracking ngl (still is), at least when i started last year august iirc? but yeah! do you know what major you want? alas i cannot chill as much as i used to smh

heheh fr tho >:3 i think the fontaine arc was really well written and went into more depth (get it? depth? waters? ok i'll stop now) and because of how much lore we were given since it seems to be more complex ngl. as for myself, i'm sticking albedo and lyney under the microscope so i can understand them both better

especially albedo. i'd very much like to pick his brain the same way i wanna pick my boyfriend's- coughs

HEJSJD THE WAY I STARTED SMILING AFTER READING THE HCS,,needed that ngl cuz i've been stressed a lot. but i think bedo would be the kind of person who'd do that and create an artificial flower and then name it after me hehehe

but hey, who's to say wanderer wouldn't leave you a flower someplace where you can find it? just a small and sweet gesture and will very most likely deny it (and fails) when you tease him for it mwehehhe i can be devious too ya know or maybe even ayato leaves you a little present like a bracelet or hair accessory after a long day of work

AND NOO ITS OK I LOVE LISTENING TO UR RAMBLES TOO /gen /pos

actually yea i do have some new vibedo trivia! we've officially become engaged and he was the one who proposed first <3 that and he has a tendency to call me "sweet violet" since its an actual flower as well hehe. and tysm!! i'm honestly just doing my best to stay happy since my irl bedo is like very complementary to my personality if that makes sense? like he tends to wear darker clothing, i tend to wear a lot of pastels kinda thing. and so far, we're doing rlly good! sure there are some challenges we're dealing with now but im doing my best to stay positive ^^

also me being 20 ew. somehow i'm still being referred as old sheesh

ok im done rambling now im passing the mic to u hehe /lh

ah, truly. the price of education = freedom to chill !!! 😔 but alas, life is a ongoing journey with hurdles (and i happen to not be an athlete /j). currently, i have my eyes on a social science major atm! so i can hopefully pursue psychology :3 but my second choice is english bcs i cannot stray from the path of linguistics and literature no matter how much i tried /pos. ALSOSOSO if you don't mind, can you tell me more abt what you do in your course? i did my research on google but i think it cannot compare to someone with the actual experience™ ++ i'm just a curious cat and want to enable your rambles hehe <3 /lh

THE PUN, HELP. i agree, the fontaine quest deffo made some waves when it ended. OH I SEE!!! at first glance, i thought i could find a similarity between albedo and lyney (finding vi's type: a reality show jkjk we all already know it's albedo /hj) but the longer i looked, the more i questioned myself 😭 i do think that both of them are deeper than what people credit them for tho! albedo with his knowledge of khemia.... and lyney with his burdens as the next 'father'..... ooOOooO. some emphasis for now on lyney bcs of the 4.6 trailer that just dropped! DID YOU SEE IT YET VI 👁️ (but dw, i understand if you had no time / busy with college!) { the comment abt picking your bf's brain LMAO would he let you?? oh, truly, love is blind 🤭 /lh }

always happy to provide you with hcs!!! my brain buzzes with possibilities all the time && one of the things i love most abt selfships is analyzing how different personalities come together to form habits / idiosyncrasies / love languages of their own. like how albedo conjures up an artificial flower bcs he is simply reminded of his sweet violet — that is special and unique to you in a way. it's vv beautiful, i think!!

AND HSHDHWHSH. THE HCS??? vi, i cannot convey how much i appreciate you. i haven't indulged in my selfships for some time since i didn't have time to be active - so this made me SOSOSO happy aaaaaa!!! but wanderer definitely has left some flowers for me before bcs who else? i suggested the possibility of another suitor and he knocked me on the head (softly) YOWCHHH but hey, at least he admitted it was him! :3c and 'yato.... aghhhhh this man. he leaves a hairpin out in the open but tells me “not to touch it until he gets home” just so he can put it on me himself. he derives joy from seeing me hold back from snatching that thing up myself. meanie /j

AWWW THAT'S SO CUTE!! you two are the apt presentation of “opposites attract”. and i'm glad! i only have average experience with relationships but i think everyone agrees that a relationship isn't sunshine and rainbows all the time. that's as natural as our having good days and bad days in a week. i think what matters is how you both deal with them - and i believe in you & your bf! you're a good egg and ik your bf is too, so do what you both know is best <3 (forgive me if i sound like a grandma here /j BUT hooray to vi and irl albedo! my new fav couple yesyesyes)

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Southern Comfort (8x06)

Soooooo much to unpack in this episode. Settle in, this could be a long one...

Ok so the brothers have a brief but heated conversation about Benny that amounts to

Sam: He's a vampire, why is he still "alive"?

Dean: He's my friend, idk.

Sam: What about Amy? Remember MY friend that YOU killed?

Dean: Character growth? 🤷🏼‍♂️

Not a great conversation for resolving anything, but it dragged some things out into the light of day, so it's a start. And it showed that Dean is working on developing some layers to his worldview, slowly, painfully, but he is working at it.

And then there's Garth. Gotta love the scrawny little weirdo. In his fringed jacket, joyful enthusiasm seeing Sam & Dean, ridiculous ringtones, and doing his best to fill the gap in the hunter community left when Bobby died. But Garth is always a good touchstone for the brothers, oddly astute and more aware of them than they are, and he gives them something to align on, namely, their shared reaction to him. And even though Garth was getting all Bobby's idiosyncrasies wrong, he did make a damn good point...

Garth: Bobby belonged to all of us, Dean – not just you and Sam. 

Because while Bobby was second dad to Sam & Dean, they aren't actually the only people in the world, a fact that Dean frequently forgets. It's not Dean's fault that even in his mid-30's he still lacks emotional maturity, he had a shitty childhood that set him way behind the curve on developing that way. He's working on it.

Then an Amelia flashback scene that finally shows us something sympathetic about her character. Of course it's a parallel to Sam & Dean, because of course it is. Her husband went and joined the military, without consulting her first and then got shipped off and died. Oof, that sucks. So she was adrift, exactly like Sam was, and they just happened to drift across each other's paths. No wonder they gravitated towards one another, they were licking the same wounds. The difference was that Sam's lost loved one comes back. Oh and her husband was named Don, similar enough to Dean for ya?

Sidenote: I love all the digs at the confederacy bs, because, yeah, they lost the war. I do not care who is offended by my thoughts on this either. Unfollow me.

Garth: Hey, uh, Sam. If you ever need to talk, I just want to let you know that I'm here. About anything – you know, life, uh, Dean, you.

Sam: I'm okay. Thanks.

Garth: I mean, it just seems like you and Dean are talking but nobody's listening to each other.

Garth gets it, he sees it. Oh boy, 'nother Amelia flashback. Yep, matching sets of issues.

And now Dean is possessed. There is a whole lot in the conversation, so I'm just going to compile the highlights...

Dean: You should have looked for me when I was in Purgatory. You never even wanted this life. Always blamed me for pulling you back into it. Everything you've ever done since you climbed into my ride has been to deceive me. Drinking demon blood, check. Being in cahoots with Ruby. Not telling me that you lost your soul. Or how about running around with Samuel for a whole year, letting me think that you were dead while you're doing all kinds of crazy. Those aren't mistakes, Sam. Those are choices! I might have lied, but I never once betrayed you. I never once left you to die. And for what, a girl? You left me to die for a girl? Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you've ever been! That's right. Cas let me down. You let me down. The only person that hasn't let me down is Benny.

Sam actually didn't have much to say, he admitted that he's made mistakes, but he doesn't push back too hard against Dean. Two very good reasons for this.

Dean has a gun aimed at him and is currently possessed by a nasty spectre who is out for blood.

Sam actually feels guilty for exactly what Dean is upset with him for after all, to his credit, he doesn't argue about it that much. This is not to say that Sam doesn't have valid beef with Dean, but in this case, Sam's conscience agrees with Dean. Sam's just still processing all of it.

And then, of course, Garth saves the day by punching Dean (ballsy move for our scrappy little hunter) and he pinpoints precisely wtf is up between the brothers.

Garth: You can't change the past, amigo. Stop being a idjit! With Bobby dead, you and Sam are all each other has. And that's not so bad, man.

Ugh, another flashback. I always forget how many flashbacks there are in this season. Like, yes, a well-timed flashback is a great narrative tool, but they are way over used here. I love the show, but at a certain point I wish they'd just give us the whole story and move on. Whatever, that's a me problem.

[syrupspinner]

i didnt beat Affogato

they keep calling this magenta-haired lady a bleeding heart

so this games premise is that you're a witch that runs a coffee shop. don't worry it's not cozy. instead you go into people's mind palace and play a reverse tower defense game (tower assault?). I think this is done really well, especially considering how novel it is. the difficulty pacing is a bit spotty (more on that later), but I think it provides a decent challenge overall, especially by the halfway point. I am a little complacent with my cards, though. the game encourages you to switch up your loadout by introducing new cards that synergize really well with certain approaches, like the moon-sun-high priestess[!] deck where you shuffle your cards in and out. but once I fully leveled up some bread-and-butter cards like strength and the world there aren't a lot of combos that don't work well. but hey, that's a good thing! level up and approach with your favorite units instead of relying on the predetermined winning combo. I always value build freedom in an RPG, and this does really well. also, the gameplay itself is just so unique and interesting.

the first thing you'll probably notice about this game is the persona inspiration. you spend time progressing visual novel side stories (with an in game calender) with the NPCs to power up your tarot based rpg minions. personally, I'm one of those people that are super invested in the persona series, but I've mostly experienced it through letsplays and longplays and that kinda thing. the furthest I got was in 4, and that was pretty underwhelming, but I digress. I'm not sure how well this was implemented... I didn't finish any of them until the endgame, and this seemed pretty in line with how the difficulty progressed, but that means I didn't really get a chance to play around with the units you get as a reward. that said, the stories are all still really well written! natalie's felt a bit meandering in the beginning, but most of them felt really directed as fun little side stories that fit the theme of a devil mystery. also, the grand plot with Sera's whole demon shards thing is great, love the episodic nature where you meet new characters and it sets up new gimmicks for the rpg gameplay, great stuff. the dialog can be a little... meh at times, but I found it charming a good 70% of the time, which is a passing grade last I checked

the third genre this game employes, beside visual novel and reverse-tower-defense-rpg is... coffee minigame. honestly, it seemed a little half-baked. you have to make coffee for your social links pretty often, but people usually just want an Americano or sometimes a mocha. seeing all the weird drinks on the menu and the dedicate spice submenu made me excited to play around with orders kinda like VA-11 HALL-A, but people are usually just straightforward about wanting simple drinks, with like one or two exceptions in the whole game. I'm glad it's there, because the coffee shop makes for a good way of justifying Affogato (the character) getting dragged into drama so much and it'd feel a little awkward if there was no interactivity, but I feel like it was ultimately underutilized.

also the art style is cute. I love the chibi tarot guys and the talksprites... honestly the best way I can describe it is like, they look like they were designed like they should been tweening after a 4/5 star gacha pull, but that's not a bad thing per se? they're detailed and have a pretty stylistic feel by anime standards (no shade to anime, but you know what I mean), but it's weird to break the association in my brain.

I also wanted to talk about the voice acting! it's available in both Japanese and Chinese (I assume Mandarin). I don't listen to a lot of spoken Chinese, so it was actually pretty neat! I liked picking up on little linguistic idiosyncrasies, like how they have to pronounce it "Affojato" since Mandarin doesn't seem to have a hard g sound. also, the voice acting just did a good job at fitting and emphasizing the characters. mephista totally stole the show for that, but it helped with stuff like recognising that Dave was meant to be suave and handsome in a way that can't really be conveyed with text without going overboard. so, well done chinese voice actors!

okay. last thing i wanna talk about here - i think the game is good, and you should play it, but there is one level i have been stuck on for days. without spoiling too much, its the level you play with eva after you collect all the shards. its bizarrely hard. im playing on normal difficulty and there are so many things that are designed to kill you instead of challenge you. the level is so big and there are so many of those stupid laser enemies that i could not have any units survive long enough to kill all five(!) boss targets. i have been stuck on this level for days after spending no less than like half an hour on the hardest levels before this point. i had to switch to easy mode, and i think it is a failure on the game's part that it couldnt properly balance the default difficulty.

in addition to that, i only managed to complete 3 out of 5 of the games' social links. the only problem with this is, im not sure how youre supposed to do that with everyone? im pretty sure the game literally doesnt give you enough time to fully level everyone. i only opened the store like twice, and those were both in the morning and the only time you can advance the social links is the evening. i extended every chapter as long as i could by avoiding the boss to keep talking to people, and i still didnt have enough time. now ill need to do an entire second playthrough if i want to get the related achievements, including the one for collecting all the witch cards. i am incredibly dissapointed

the plot took such a weird turn at the end there too, so much stuff about sera just came up out of nowhere, and the turn the chapter takes is so sudden and unfitting in my opinion. it felt like when a show is told that this is gonna be their last season but theyre already halfway through writing so they need to cut stuff and write in stuff thats lets them have some finality

all this worked together to really sour this game for me right at the end. also i lost my save file but i dont hold it against this game, that was my fault. if this was any other game id power through from the start and try again, but this just has too many unfun caveats that im just gonna move on

if this game still sounds neat to you, by all means check it out. this is all just my opinion, and you might click with the game a lot better than i did. the core of the game is pretty solid, its just the execution that ruined it for me, but even that was forgivable until the end. im gonna see what befun studios puts together in the future, maybe a sequel where they iron out some of the flaws would work really well?

[jackalsarchive]

8, 19 and 21 !

Thank you for the ask!

8) Do you take inspiration from real life? If so how do you incorporate it into your fics?

There’s a couple vent fics I have that aren’t shared yet that I’ve done this with. They started as just a hyperbolic “what-if” scenario with some comfort characters slapped into them. However, I’ve been recently combing through them and turning them into some semblance of a story that can reach a cathartic ending, as the main thing being incorporated is my thoughts during depression or mental lows. So I try and see if it’s something the character can use to channel through for development/growth that we never got to see. If that makes sense.

Any other inspiration is either adapted knowledge from my major, or more commonly, how I see friends and other people react and move during conversations or more mundane points. Do they tend to fidget with the thing they’re holding? Or in my case, I’m awful with eye contact, but that doesn’t mean I’m not listening. Or maybe there’s little idiosyncrasies that I can throw in. Stuff like that.

19) What is some random info you happen to have that you used in a fic?

I barely scratched the surface of it, and want to explore it more, but my fics “With a rupee in his Mouth” and “Opening of the Mouth” used info I got from my classes about mortuary practices, and cultures around death and dying.

21) Writers choice - pick any of these questions that you want to answer. I'll do 6) Do you outline your fics? If so, how?

I do a little bit! But I’m a bit bad at it, as my brain doesn’t really work that way? I tend to write snippets or chunks that I know I want to happen, so I get this collage-like patchwork of writing. And then I have to tie it all together, which then adds more. I’ve tried making a few bullet points, and lists, but usually what happens is I worry too much about checking everything on the list, that it then messes with the flow of the story I want to tell.

[the-firebird69]

Watch "X2 Clip - White House (2003) X-Men Movie" on YouTube

These people die for what they're doing to me and mine they won't shut up and their psychologist because they're stealing from us the system that doesn't work, and it won't team up with us for the same family it's very repulsive and our friend says it's not normal for someone to do that even Mac Daddy has savvy and skill and lets people fight the enemy this is ridiculous when he's doing and I noted that too Mac doesn't the same thing or used to at least and doesn't leave everything open for you to know that he's doing it to his own is this a****** Trump does and tell me if it's the same cloth I'm sitting here wondering why it doesn't make any sense and he says discuss his decision he made because he made bad decisions and he's still making them like annoy me all night long and people tell him not to they'll kill him and they will kill his people to get to him he just keeps doing it and it's a bad decision. That's our point of view

Nightcrawler

If you want revenge for everything you've been sitting here threatening the s*** out of me that's what you did to me after he visited Jackie karate like character across town and I was disassembled by you it's kind of a horrific treatment he says you say you know what I was doing I like to see in writing yeah I was thinking of your stuff I thought I could do it with the boy around and the max often cover I guess you don't need to send me the stuff which you probably will but this is stupid

Trump

No it's not stupid but he was telling you is don't do it again and you didn't listen and you're stupid Trump. Anybody who can disassemble you has power over you you should listen to him and at least treat them as subordinate you respect not but you don't do anything like that to anybody I'm a witness to it because people around me die all the time for what you're doing and you get killed all the time for what you're doing and you don't back off even though it's other people just sit there with a stupid f****** retard look on your face and smug attitude as people kill you everyday for what you're doing here to me every day you end up in the morgue I know it's frustration and he was talking about it to me and I said that this guy won't stop no matter what happens to him he can practically burn him in an incinerator he'll be back tomorrow with this dumb comments and dumb face and precedent he set. And I know what he's talking about in the past you were turning them in and they were a little bit but you're a f****** nutcase you're turning them in and they're screwing around with us and didn't do nothing for you I tell you what you are the lousiest fighter I've ever seen. And you fall for Tommy f granted he's doing it and his issue with the threats and it's actual power and he went nuts with it and abused the s*** out of it and now he's going to drop the boom on you and him and the rest of you more luck it is the boom and he's under the influence of his father as are you Trump and he has a plan to get rid of you and he had that plan in the beginning but you're the one playing it out mostly along with Tommy f because of these idiosyncrasies no it's a glaring error you have teammates like bja not to mention your kids but bjA can wipe you out and you keep doing it to him, huge huge armies of yours haven't wiped out by BjA and you still don't negotiate anything and if you have to but you're going to be nothing in days and it sure isn't your kids fall and you just mismanage that completely. I guess being near me you have this huge delusion of grandeur and none of your stuff is going to you by the way the Max and the clones are down there annihilating you cuz you're trying to defend your stuff and it's not working and Jason was going to come up the rear end

Zues Hera

When I say Trump is leaving alone leave one alone you're bothering everybody about everything and you deteriorating to nothing and we're included in that because of what you're doing now it's worse than what you're doing before. And now I see that they're going to issues charges on Monday it's going to consume Tommy if he's the head of the January 6th committee and us and you just sitting there hanging everybody on what specifically him who can't stand you because he's trying to get us to do stuff they said you're running things he sucks so damn bad you had all that money and all those businesses and not one item to me he said not one dollar everything I have is from the Max and what am I supposed to do about that. And it didn't turn on this it was you and he didn't ruin us it's just Tommy f but it's by order of Max and I see what happened now he's holding it all and storing it all and he's going to hit you up with it all at once and I see why and he didn't say why what and he sort of got the idea with he says not fully and didn't want to put it out there but here it is you haven't thought about it so he didn't want to put it out. and it's cool but my characters in trouble and so are all of us and he is too by the way that's why I said it's stupid Jesus Christ you're an a******. He's doing it because he wants all the stuff and it's convicting you of these crimes because he wants people to attack you and you have the stuff he's after and since modus and motif and it's been that way for years and he's Stalin and is a huge enemy of ours it kind of going along with the stuff is huge coward and I can't stand it anymore if people hold us they're going to get a fight people try and grab us they're going to get a fight we're not going to do what you wanted in world War II which is so stupid and gross and it led on to this the purges are one thing but the Holocaust pointed it out. And he says without a monkey wrench there's no safety or backup and he had to come up with a lot of stuff because you kept pushing and still are to get rid of us and yourself

He wishes he could remember the name of my characters human form because it says it all they're going through a nightmare then too and you don't care at all because you think they don't do anything cuz it looks like most people just stand around but that guy is fast and I'm fast and I'm saving move fast and I know what it is it's deadly speed and he doesn't do it so he looks funny but he moves fast it is that the gym fast it's pretty fast it wasn't very fast but he did it for prolonged period of time and it says it's going 70 miles an hour but it looks more like 90. Just sitting there like an idiot Trump bothering me about the stupid stuff and we're talking about it's none of your business and saying that's the whole thing and all this garbage but it's not. Now you're not complaining for the whole Holocaust it's going on but you're to blame for like perpetuating it and not stopping it and not even trying if it's causing it to happen War it really is not helping us and we're in a lot of trouble and we think Monday is a big day and Jason you're not helping either come down from there

Nightcrawler

His name does says it all and it's important to note that it does we had a rough time very rough time we were hitting a lot of idiots some of them were you nightcrawler but most of them were Trump and Tommy f and tons of Max they were demanding it you're hitting them too and really every once in a while you get the wrong idea but we understand it because Max insist on bumping with people thinking but Trump you're way off the area completely you do it everyday and we keep telling her to stop and you're relevant now you're not available you're out and the other rebels want you gone because you won't stop everything to you and then what I'm supposed to defend you because you're a stupid s*** and harm them I mean it's it's just awful what you did

Thor Freya

We do agree with Thor Freya and they're both our friends and we'll defend them very strongly and we don't enjoy what's going on here but you're wrong Trump to play your grandson who you've been you've been hitting and harming for his stuff and boy you a pig and a selfish jackass and you're going to lose everything because of it we don't respect you in any way and we're going to get you out of there. Today we have a whole new lineup of companies you're being fired from I'm going to start with a company's that are

*subsiduaries of acceler Mattel it's a very huge steel company and we're finalizing all of the subsidiaries transferred to us from you and your cadre of failures Trump. Several other companies too

*Union metals and yes you were threatening your father too much and it may have pushed him to do what he's doing so he can come back around and take all of it nightcrawler. Huge company it's gigantic he's got stuff everywhere and we will take it all and it did a lot of nefarious things and took things were taking all back and we're not going to let him keep it no

*Pittsburgh steel and today is the day we fire you trying to remember Lord & company and others in some are divesting in summer State on but not many and they usually the best shortly after I leave and you will be given notice today and you will leave the company and we'll have instructions for you if you violate them you'll be arrested and they'll be forcibly removed from the properties. This is a huge company of the East Coast they build practically everything we have tons of contracts so we told them they're holding and there's an impending event and that we haven't taken it control yet and more and it said send it and send you can't because of trump and they got angry at Trump and they're hitting them and truthfully if you erected now so waste of time except in the Carolinas in certain areas and long Coast is waste of time because of events that are going to occur and something to know about and they're a bigger tunnels and now they're getting it so we are gearing up for that might take you over and we have a lot of huge projects can go forwards and he wants us to and to put in the housing for our people at the same time and we're going to go ahead and do that because we have to.

*so huge deal for us to hear it for my son before we say it it happens everyday and yeah we come back to hear more there's another company that we are acquiring today and firing John Reed Lord and company from. And that company is US steel and took it from Mac 10 years ago that was Trump who did and we are acquiring it and we did say it was Max but it's not a lot of Max wouldn't look this idiot and he wouldn't let them in and yes it was Trump's attitude and system the drove his grandsons to do it And son and they do know that, our son knows it too because he's not reasonable in any way about anything. Unfortunately it's been going on for a very long time it's hard to see it on the onset or even from where our sun is but from personal experience he can attest that that's the cheapest person on Earth and he doesn't do anything for other people Jason is doing more than he was the whole time and Jason didn't really have too much ability to use the whole bunch of things but now he's a massive enemy of everyone and he isn't any combatant of hours and listed as such and sought globally on warrants special warrants from the military of ours and we're going after him and his right now he's prepping to move into New York and DC areas and over Jersey and it will begin today and cruise is going up to the Great lakes to do the video the diamonds are almost at 80% out along that whole area and it's going to be a show

We have the companies that we are acquiring and firing John remillard from and they're large companies I've been in business for many years and the above the last mentioned is one of them it is a huge company huge number two in the world for steel and another company we're going to move on today is

*Occidental steel it's number three in the world and Occidental was a program of Trump's and it wants to take over everything in the end and he said it means it's not accidental but Occidental doesn't mean that it means on occasion and it is what it means and he's doing what it says on occasionally and they'll do the job what he did was not do the job at all and people are making jokes and our son said asdidental, you take it as they don't do anything it's because of the dentist and it is and it's because of both of them and it is and there's nothing you can do that's true but here we are taking this over and as you said it's number three on Earth for production and tonnage and in place items and they do a lot of rebar it was meant for bunkers and we don't want them doing that and has all the equipment in it for big rebar and we don't plan on letting them have it now it's a giant giant steel company huge pug Mills and processing facilities it's probably the biggest producer of large-scale items and were getting to it that we are producing huge amounts of steel for projects that we have an interest in and also within your realm, and it's not just us doing it and people hear about it and don't believe it and then they look and they see it. One such project it's not requiring a ton of steel to be fabricated what's required a ton of direction equipment and fabricate fabrication equipment and fabricators and logistics equipment is the bridge over the Mississippi Missouri humongous Delta which is going to transform into a huge River I'm going to put in after the event right now our strengthening the limestone so it doesn't make sense and is a huge huge bridge that's an example of how many people we have working on it we have one member that's a cross member it's going to attach the two trusses and we haven't put the trusses there yet just you wait till that happens tons of idiots will show up and we have to get the cross rivers ready and the tie downs or else it won't work it'll blow over for real the wind might be able to do it we calculated it it doesn't look it but it could so we have to have to do it so it won't and we have to get cross bracing ready to cross brace both directions and many places and so one section it's about 80 miles long and 10 miles wide has 5 million people working on it it's huge and they don't understand why and it will only take a day but that's why, it's the prep it and it's coating on it but this is a company that does that kind of stuff and we took over and there's a lot of Max working on it and we're working on it and you fired the idiots because they just don't want to do any work. And it's Manning up now they're putting several cross members embracing out there pretty much all of it's going to go out there today and we'll get ready for putting up the trusses and to erect the entire bridge and yeah you can move that with the spaceship it's a huge one but think of it this way it wouldn't be able to lift the spaceship up if you couldn't. River planned for every facet of the project and we don't need to mention it all the time but this is going to be intense it's a huge bridge let's gigantic and the rock is hard to do nicely and we're doing it for miles past it it's very deep and our hardening systems and it's turning into massive block of very hard Stone second quartz countertop it's really really nice

*other companies would be nice divisions of acceler mettal and divisions of Occidental steel. And all of the subsidiaries and this takes a lot of time cuz they're huge and they have tons of it and there are other subsidiaries of Occidental steel that we should mention and they're all over the world and they do a lot of fabrication and they're different metals companies and different structural steel companies names and erection companies but they're all the same company and they're created all about the same time and we don't need to go to the names but they know who they are and we know who they are

*well now acquiring electrical supply companies tons of them every single one of them switch gear transfer stations generation and power generation gear and equipment and generators and tons of it all of it including solar power and it's going on today fossil fuel plants tacomac plants and the news yesterday wonder why we're doing that allowing them to do that they say and they're huge generators at these facilities and they're poorly maintained and we're fixing them and they just end up replacing them which is what they kept doing and using the old ones which is done on purpose and we don't do it that way we don't have to. These power generation facilities are global and they are listed under certain companies one of them is occidental power they fully intend to still have power outages but they're going to be really interrupted today for the last time now except for their sabotage they'll try and there's a huge number of people saying that's what they're going to do but this company mentioned here it owns tons of power plants all over the world and here in Florida and there is no deficit of their employees running around bothering our son. We're going after the this time and really they've been doing it for stupid reasons and they're going to regret doing it they wasted a lot of time and energy and they're going to find out it's the wrong thing to do cuz we're ready now and yeah they own and operated all the Florida power plants and they're controlling company of Florida power and light and we will acquire today and it's an important meeting for them to go to to see what we're up to and it's at noon at these meetings start at 10:00 a.m. and he's losing composure and control as he always does and we beat him up and he's an idiot but the others have to go for real he just goes to bother people. There are two other companies that own and operate most of the power plants on Earth Bechtel and Flour Daniel and it is true those are the two huge ones along with the Occidental power company there are a couple others and one is Getty oil they have power generation and there are several hydroelectric companies and we are acquiring all of them today and firing John remalird and company fully. It's a huge day and there's a meeting for each and they spend from 10:00 a.m. until 5:00 p.m. eastern time and most of them are in New York City and later on the day Jason is going to start invading We Believe and we have reports that say it because he's going to be attacked by the military is the Earth. And in the evening we're going to switch to a different industry it is related to the power industry and it is integral and it's electrical supply for buildings industrial use houses and more but it's things like switch gear and and items like that and we're already controlling some of it and we already control a lot of electrical companies but we are clearing out electrical switchgear companies and our son used to purchase it and he says he's kind of rusty on the names if it's only like three or so and that's how many there are and what it was kind of a dog and that's Trump's actual company and moving on them and the schedule to fire them from there you can at 6:00 p.m. and on the hour there are four of them and we'll start doing that

We will have a great day that's huge companies that are leaving their possession and important ones and we do have water filtration on the docket and food distribution and more and we're going to squeeze those in at the half hour and we will do that today because they're where they're going as well in New York City and deciding now a water filtration plants will be ours today there's only two or three companies and in the same companies as above and we'll take those today. They provide filtration and purification for all public areas on Earth for the most part 95%, which is very high number. And food distribution and storage goes to Agway and Occidental foods and a few others that are shipping and transfer companies and Lane foods and those are the big ones and we are taking them over every hour on the half hour today they're all going to our position and we're firing John rebelord and company completely Max another races might retain stock and we have a lot of employees where retaining we're not causing massive disruption at all and we're not laying in firing people who are working for the most part even part time and coming in every once in a while if they're not terrorists they still have a job

Olympus

[justopti]

Nightingale conant

NIGHTINGALE CONANT HOW TO

Well, it’s funny you asked me cause I grew up in a little town called Kennebunkport name and that I grew up in a rich neighborhood. What was your life like growing up and where did you grow up? A lot of great stuff is happening and has happened in the past. And they’re going to see you’ve been featured on ABC, NBC, CBS, Fox parade, magazine, entrepreneur, Huffington post. Seriously though, because our guests are going to, our guests are going to go to your website, Noah st. And so we thought we’d just start by having you read each one of them to us. Well, I w w Z and I were doing our research, you know, before having you on the show and we’ve discovered that you’ve read or you’ve written 15 books, you’ve written 15 books. Noah, st John, uh, Noah st John, welcome onto the thrive time show. He’s kind of a, have you been his website? Dr ? Have you checked him? I’m on it right now. Dr Z, on today’s show we have a guest who’s, who’s kind of a big deal. And now ladies and gentlemen, without any further ado, my exclusive interview with Noah st John. What if you had the same habits as super successful people? What if you did the same thing that super successful people do day in, day out on a daily basis, would you to become successful? That is what Noah st John is talking about on today’s show. And today he joins us to share about the power habits of super successful people. Throughout his career he’s written 15 books that have been featured in ABC, NBC, CBS, Fox entrepreneur, the Huffington post, and numerous media outlets. Ladies and gentlemen on today’s show, we are interviewing these self help expert Noah st John.

What are a couple of books that you believe that all of our listeners should read?.

What message or principle that you wish you could teach everyone?.

We find that most successful entrepreneurs tend to have idiosyncrasies that are actually their super powers…what idiosyncrasy do you have?.

What has been the biggest adversity that you’ve had to fight through during your career?.

What mentor has made the biggest impact on your career thus far?.

What are a few of your daily habits that you believe have allowed you to achieve success?.

How, you come across as a very proactive person…so how do you typically organize the first four hours of your and what time do you typically wake up?.

What is that hidden connection and why is it so important?

I would love for you to speak on the hidden connection between habits and money.

NIGHTINGALE CONANT HOW TO

John, in your book you write about Installing Systems That Make Your Success Automatic…walk us through how to do this? Noah, in your book you talk about The Income-Happiness Matrix…what is this all about?.In Chapter 4 of your book you write about, The #1 Massive Money Mistake You Must Avoid If You Want More Success…I would love for you to share about this massive money mistake?.Chapter 2 of your book is titled, The Worst Day of Your Life and How it Set Me Free…what is this Chapter all about?.John, what inspired you to write your books, Power Habits and Get Rid of Your Head Trash About Money – How to Avoid the 3 Big Money Mistakes Even Smart People Make? Noah, I understand that you are the only author to be published by Hay House, HarperCollins, Simon & Schuster, Mindvalley, Nightingale-Conant, and the Chicken Soup for the Soul…to what do you attribute your success as an author?.John, what does it mean to be a Power of Habits Mentor ? When did you first feel like you were truly beginning to gain traction with your career?.When did you first figure out what you wanted to do professionally?.I know that you’ve had a ton of success at this point in your career, but I would love to start off at the very beginning of your career.John who is the author of 15 books, the founder of The Success Clinic of America and he is known by many as the Power of Habits Mentor. Yes, yes, yes and yes! Thrivetime Nation on today’s show we are interviewing Noah St.John, author of 15 books including the NEW book Power Habits®: The New Science for Making Success Automatic® And today he joins us to share about the Power Habits of Super Successful People. Throughout his career, he’s written books and has been featured in ABC, NBC, CBS, Fox,, The Huffington Post and numerous media outlets. Ladies and gentlemen on today’s show we are interviewing the self-help expert, Noah St. John breaks down the “Power Habits” of super successful people and how to get rid of your head trash about money.

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 49

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

What would you do if you walked in on Donnie like how @inky-spikes drew him for this week's chapter art?

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Excuse me while I get incredibly mushy; you may known my rise origins, disastisfied with content, setting out to write my own love story, but did you know that I had never properly interacted with a fandom before? Why would I? I'm the type of person to only want to do what i want. This doesn't mean I'm not open to possibiltise, I love a good time saver and the truth, but most often, I just stay my funky little coruse. Then I received a piece of fanart.

I've always told myself, if you get fanart then you've made it. Well, I didn't know how much I had made it when I started talking to @unknownfanartist

It is not hyperbole when I say that I can credit everything about where I am now to my Contessa. Sure, I have my writing, but she gave me my community. Her friendship and the many others I hold dear now, she was the one who gave me every single one of those oppurtunties.

How does someone pay that back?

I've written her fics, is that enough?

It never feels like it.

I wouldn't be surrounded by anywhere near as much love if it wasn't for her. I wouldn't have found the people who bring me joy if it wasn't for her. My rise obsession probably wouldn't even be where it is today without her.

How do you pay that back?

I can't.

I can only use my words to show and say how incredibly thankful I am that you came out of the woodwork to draw little old me a scene from my silly little turtle fic. Contessa, I not only dedicate this chapter to you, but I have written it as an homage. I've jammed it with as many refrences to your work as possible while also slipping in some of your usual mannerisms.

Merry Christmas and thank you always.

P.S. @morning-sun-brah that includes you too because you opened the Pragma Elysium gates. I remember fondly waiting on pins and poodles to await your little updates. I have an ode to you here as well!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: bra removal, clit rubbing, breast teasing

You were shamelessly staring at your boyfriend.

In his usual spot on the couch, he was hunched forward in a way that made you worry about even his softened shell. With your phone on one knee, he had his tech gauntlet folded up to his face where code was spinning around his wrist. On your device's screen, a battle was flicking and flashing with all sorts of attacks. Attached by some unseen cord, data from the game was being sent right to Donnie’s gauntlet where he was studying it.

You adored him.  

It didn’t matter that he didn’t care about video games or understood anything you were talking about; he was a trooper. When you’d mistakenly gotten into this mobile game for its characters, he’d listened without judgment as you yammered on about the designs. Every time you thrust your phone into his face to show him something, he indulged your delight. When you left him for hours on end as you combed through the story line, he simply busied himself with other things while only occasionally disturbing you to remind you to hydrate or something similar.

Not quite as obsessed as Coral, who’d already spent an obscene amount of money on the game. You kept playing relegated to once a night for sanity's sake. Your plan had worked for about a week until it became increasingly necessary for you to put forth actual effort into the battles if you wanted to keep progressing. One too many rules and all sorts of caveats, you’d gotten by on sheer luck until it ran out. With Coral barely able to keep her mouth shut about what was to come, you’d been forced to buckle down and study.

Scheduling the evening to figure it out, Donnie was buried in a project designing something on his own and hadn’t minded in the slightest. Armed with the wiki, you began the tedious study of combat logistics. Cramming for what felt like hours, you adjusted your team in all the recommended ways and restarted said battle only for it to yield the same result. Having back-ups prepared, you switched around your character’s positions and began anew only for the timer to run out even sooner. Unable to accept what was happening, you reverted to the original team. In a mystified stupor, you watched a greater failure and somehow worse result. Spurned, you spent the next 30 minutes in an ever deepening spiral as your losses piled on one after the other. 

It didn't make sense. 

You did everything right. 

You followed all the suggestions.

By the time you scrambled over to Donnie, you were sure the look on your face was a horrified one.

It thankfully hadn’t worried him, but he’d abandoned his work to help you immediately.  

All found him sitting, examining the game’s code, and mumbling something about DPS and buffs.

You wanted to kiss him nearly as much as you needed to win.

The latter winning out by the tiniest margin, you watched on with building affection until he turned toward you.

“While the damage ratio may appear the same, the actual amount dealt by your opponent is being randomly generated within a certain range.”

“So the RNG gods are frowning upon me?” You sulked.

He hummed with some altruistic form of sympathy.

The current match ended with another loss. “I guess I’ll just run it over and over until I get the right number.”

“Or…” Donnie flicked his data wheel and then hit restart on the fight.

You sat up and watched as the same attack patterns went by, but this time you were dominating.

Donnie tapped the screen to dispel a few debuffs and you won.

“Yes!” You leapt and he caught you while lifting your phone out of the way. “Thank you! Thank you!”

He allowed you to ply him with kisses. “I can adjust the code accordingly.”

“Cheating?” You asked with your lips still to his cheek.

“You won’t be caught. A few imperceptible lines.”

“Done!” You removed yourself to give him space.

He chuckled and brought back up his screens to apply whatever he had in mind.

Back to watching him, you couldn’t help but muse over how his deviousness had been watered down. This once wretched villain now hacked mobile games for his love and your heart overflowed. He had done undeniable bad, but in only a year he came to lavish in his choice. Living finally came to him easily and you were overjoyed to be a participant of that journey. 

“Hey, Don.”

“Hm?” He had a small smile on his lips as he ran a new battle and studied the metrics it produced.

“Can I be the villain?”

“Of course.” He spun his code. “What do you covet, my dearest? We’ll put on a great heist.”

“I want to steal from you.”

He still didn’t look as the battle was won once again. “Something other than my heart?”

You had to put your face in your hands.

He was in a good mood which proved fatal for your heart.

Peering between your fingers found his smile spread wide. “You goofball, that’s not what I meant.”

“Done. Do tell me if you have any other issues.” He offered you your phone. “How then?”

“Thanks.” You hugged your device to your chest. “You like it when I pull one over on you.”

He slowed, clearly going through his memories.

“What better way…” Giving your game a parting goodbye, you left it on the cushions in favor of crawling towards him. “… then at your own profession?”

He sank into the couch to receive you. “In no demeaning way, in a no hold’s barred scenario, I’m not sure you’d be able to.”

“No?” Lifting onto your knees, you straddled him.

You saw his fingers twitch from where his arms laid out across the back of the couch.

You cradled his jaw and inched forward until your lips almost brushed his. “All the times I deceived you?”

“Underestimation.” He murmured, resisting to close the gap.

“Afraid?” You tilted your head and ghosted your mouth against his.

“I won’t fall for goading.” One of his arms slipped from its perch, but didn’t come around you.

“Test it then. What do you have to lose?” You gave him a protogenic kiss.

“Nothing I suppose…” He chased you for another chaste press.

You nosed along his jaw. “I’ll try to steal from you.”

“Everything mine is yours.” He sighed contented.

You pulled back to stare at him dully. “Roleplay.”

“You make a captivating honeypot.” He caught your hips and yanked them down for a grind.

You chewed your lip as your eyes rolled back. “N-not that.”

“Explain.” His grip loosened, but you felt his fingers at the ready.

“A game of keep away. See how much you still have in you.”

“You don’t believe I’ve gone soft.” He studied you.

“No, but I’m your weak spot right? How will you fare against me?”

His expression opened up for genuine surprise. “Fascinating…”

“See what I mean now?”

“Yes.” He urged you off his lap and you reluctantly tucked in beside him. “I won’t be going all out.”

“Worried about my safety?” You asked.

“Those aren’t terms. That’s a fact.” He adjusted his pants.

You flicked your gaze down to check what he'd fixed and he tapped a digit to your nose.

You swatted at him and he chuckled. “Clear mind. If someone were to steal from me, I’d employ all means necessary to get it back.”

You nodded remembering he’d mentioned something about that when revealing his backstory.

“I could torture you, but in ways you already know.”

“Not edging!” You whined, throwing your head back.

“The prize is sex then. Not a means to be utilized.” He offered his hand.

You took it with a squeeze. “Okay… Is this just an ‘if I win’ sort of bargain?”

He looked up to the ceiling in thought. “Let’s both win.”

“Even if I’m not successful?” You leaned your head against the couch and stroked his thumb. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Never.” He returned and seared an intensity into your eyes. “You’ll have gone up against me and survived. That’s clout enough.”

“I’ll be able to go to the Hidden City and brag at some bar?”

“You would most certainly be taken to meet someone’s boss if so.”

The honesty with which he’d said that9 brought your head up. “Oh…”

“What a way to meet Big Mama.” He rolled his eyes.

“Not doing that.” You gave an awkward laugh.

“A dry spell to enhance the achievement?”

“No sex until… when?” You worried over the last time such a restriction was implemented.  

He pressed your hand open to pair up his fingers to yours. “Two waves. One week to steal from me, we rejoice as soon as you do. Then another if you can keep it from me, broken if I find it.”

Giving a Vulcan salute to match him, you opened and closed the ‘V.’ “I win, you win.”

“Even, no harm. We stave off the pain of last time.”

Trying to foresee pitfalls, you slid off his pads to thread your fingers. “It sounds good… Is there something specific I should take?”

“Your choice.” He dipped in for a quick peck. “It’s all yours regardless.”

“Menace.” You whispered against him.

His smile said he agreed.

“Wanna start after a little…?” You pulled on his hand.

“Very much so. Yes!” He shifted the tide to pull you to him.

-

Donnie was in the shower.

It had only been a few hours since the heist begun and, having spent most of it in bed, he’d left you to rest while he washed up. Waiting to hear the telltale sound of the shower hitting a body, you snatched the closest thing to you and stowed away into the kitchen. Slamming the tap there on, you ducked down below the counter.

“Shelly?”

A single curious buzz came from your tech gauntlet.

“Mess with Donnie’s implants!”

A confirming buzz responded.

“Okay… Uh…” Turning over Donnie’s much larger gauntlet, you were sure you had previously seen it in some kind of smaller form. “Darling Protocol… shrink?”

The metal sat useless in your hands.

“Darling Protocol small!”

You shook the long band.

“Shorten! Reduce! Condense! Little! Mini!”

Staring, you resisted the urge to chuck it out a window.

Your wrist buzzed with interest.

“No, I have to do this. I feel bad enough I already asked for your help, but the stupid protocol is voice activated.”

More buzzing occurred and you could tell it was S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. wanting to know what was going on.

“It’s a… game we’re playing. I’m the villain and I’m trying to steal Donnie’s tech gauntlet, but it’s too big!”

Your band was silent and you ignored it in favor of the frustrating one.

“I don’t understand… How does this thing get all compact?”

Upon the last syllable, Donnie’s gauntlet shrank to the size of a watch.

“Synonym stickler.” You grouched before raising up.

“Darling protocol…” You tried to think of the way he’d say it. “Disengage tracker.”

Nothing happened, but you almost figured it wouldn’t.

“Oh, Darling Protocol sleep mode!”

With its holographic display, it looked like nothing more than a glorified bracelet. You couldn’t remember having ever seen Donnie charge the thing. It seemed indestructible and waterproof, but he had removed it on several occasions as you did yours. Since the apartment was fully under his command, he only really needed the device when he left.

“Can he track you now…?” You wondered, turning the object over.

Buzz. Buzz.

“You’re not supposed to help-! Wait, I got it?”

Buzz.

“You’re not doing it, right? Swear to me. I need to be the one.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

“Yes or no!”

It was impressive how much sass S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. could inject into a single vibration.

“… Yes you’re doing it or…?”

Donnie’s computer lit up.

Walking over to it, you saw  S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s little icon waiting there with annoyed impatience and a taping foot. “Hey, you updated your avatar to look like your new body!”

‘Thanks for noticing. You like?’ The little avatar did a twirl.

“I do, it’s very cute.”

He gave a gentlemanly bow.

“Did you help me?”

‘Now you ask a yes or no question?’ His lids lowered with put on irritation. 

“Shelly, please. I’m in a hurry.”

‘And I wasn’t busy? It’s 9:37pm on a Thursday.’

“Oh…” You lowered your gaze and pulled the gauntlet close. “That’s true. I’m sorry.”

His avatar appeared at the bottom of the screen with a wagging finger. ‘It’s a joke. I can be in up to 14 locations at once, no probbles!’

“Only 14?”

He snickered. ‘You’re right. It’s been a while since I last calculated. Should I test it? Dare me!’

“Some other time, I’m really sorry for assuming you’d be at my beck and call…”

‘You didn’t assume wrong, but accepted and, to clarify, I did not tamper. You got the correct bypass.’ He threw his hand up and a little log with a time stamped list of commands last executed appeared.

“Awesome, thank you!”

‘Have fun and fill me in later!’

“Will do!”

He saluted before he disappeared along with the light of the machine.

Looking down over the tidy desk, you scanned the surface. You had seen enough movies to know that hiding something in plain sight was one of the best ways to pull off a grift. It needed to be somewhere that didn’t attract attention and was easily overlooked. Finding nothing where a cylinder of metal could disappear here, you kept your feet moving as you rounded the apartment. Shower still going steady, you felt the urgency as you imagined he was nearly done washing himself off. From the paintings that adorned the walls to the coat rack near the door, nothing appeared right. Ready to return to the kitchen and unearth some rarely used pot, a glimmer of something caught your eye.

Slowing, you stared and had to study the space until you caught the source. Standing at his post stood the astronaut that had been forced back into your possession when you moved in. The metallic film on his visor threw an errant beam, but up close your body shadowed the piece. He hadn’t been altered much since his stay and, in fact, had mostly been forgotten about. A mainstay in the space now, you flipped his little visor up and down a few times to hide his haunting face.

Thinking it over for a moment, you gave a smile before digging your claws into the hinge. With little effort, the plastic snapped off and you set the toy back on the shelf just so. Making several adjustments so he was exactly as he was, you then moved to drop the miniaturized tech gauntlet over his face. It took twice the amount of fiddling, but you eventually got it to sit and turned in a way that looked similar to his true brim. Stepping back, you tried to recreate the light flicker effect, but it wasn’t the same. The metal had a different sheen than the plastic, but you smiled. Deeming it a cute first try, you imagined Donnie would probably find it in the next hour.

With evidence to dispose of, you wandered back to the kitchen long enough to throw the visor away. You imagined you’d at least keep Donnie on his toes with this little stunt and wondered if you should steal something else as a double bluff. Sleep tugged against the thought so you returned to bed with a giddy feeling. The dopamine rush reminded you of your game and you gave into the delusion that it might inspire you. Jumping in, you found dominating the battles to be infinitely more fun. Almost forgetting all about the roleplay, the story in your game finally progressed and you ate up the new dialog until Donnie emerged.

“Your turn.” He spoke casually as he rounded the bed to his side.

“Mhm, in’a minute.” You tapped viciously on your screen to get rid of some little dust bunny enemies zapping HP.

Not seeing as much as hearing, Donnie approached his side table and stopped. “Really?”

“Yeah, almost done.” Clearing the field, there was a burst of text that signaled some victory. “Ah, this is so great. Thanks again!”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You let your phone fall flat on your chest and turned to look at him.

“My gauntlet.”

“Your-” You blinked wide before the recognition struck you. “-what?”

He threw his weight on one hip to stare down at you, bored.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You salvaged a little dismissive persona. “I’m going to shower.”

“Technicality.”

You sat up and threw your legs over the side of the bed.

“This feels…”

He held his pause a little too long so you turned to look over your shoulder.

He was waiting there with a blasé expression. “…uninspired.”

You shrugged. 

“Wallet, keys, phone. Infantile.”

 “Oh no.” You dulled your voice for faux worry. “You must have misplaced it.”

Donnie sighed before bringing a hand up. “S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. I assume?”

“No.” You gave a sharp retort.

“He leaves a trail.” He raised one of his brows and you watched the whole apartment take on a faint purple light.

Standing and looking over your violet tinted skin, you turned a hand over to hear Donnie make a noise of confusion. “Find your trail?” You exaggerated your own brow at your boyfriend.

“He could have used the door.” Donnie grumbled, walking into the next room.

Knowing that’d be right next to where you’d stashed the gauntlet, you smiled at how you'd gotten the timeline right. Giving right up, you went to take your shower. You sometimes worried about the other tenants, but you loved how your apartment never ran out of hot water. Soaking up all ill gotten glory, you emerged a steamed bun and ambled out in a fluffy towel to find Donnie sitting on the bed with a laptop you’d never seen.

“What are we hacking tonight?” You mused and meant to sit down next to him. With your muscles liquefied, you let yourself fall over and bumped your wet head up against his bare thigh.

He made an irritated noise and jumped. “What did you have him do?”

“Who?” You rolled your head to look at him.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.!”

It was a blow to your relaxed form. “I didn’t get Shelly’s help. In fact, I called him up just to tell him that.”

“Then how did you-?” He cut himself off with closed eyes and pinched the bridge of his snout. “Darling Protocol.”

“Took awhile to get the right words. At least you didn’t program the codes in.”

“I’m changing that.” He started furiously typing.

“No, come on!” You playfully whined and grabbed at him.

He leaned away from your touch. “I’ll bind the print outs. I estimate a 24 volume set.”

“What did I even graduate for!?” You bemoaned and wiggled off the bed to get into your pajamas. “Now here's your torture.”

“I’ll print it so small you'll need a magnifying glass.”

“The horror.” Pulling your towel off, you rubbed furiously at your hair. “What are you doing?”

“Locating it.”

“Fun. I assume there’s trackers in everything, but me. Is there one in the couch?”

The only indication Donnie heard you was a little smile quirking the corner of his lips.

Leaving him to his task, you finished getting ready for bed and, as you were about to tuck yourself in, you found him sat in the exact the same way. “You gonna sleep?”

He stopped by extending his fingers and holding them over the keyboard. “True.”

“What?”

He closed his laptop and turned to you with a heated stare. “For the time being, you’ve earned your first prize.”

You giggled as he came in with kneading fingers to your waist and a kiss to your cheek. “You’re wonderful, but can I bank it?”

He kissed a few more times until you would relent with your lips. “Suit yourself.”

“Do I get to keep it after you find it?”

He perked up and released you. “It’s close.”

You rolled your eyes into laying down. “Sure it is, Don. Answer please.”

“It’s… not?” He stared you down.

“Donnie.” Your pillow was beckoning you.

“This was not discussed.”

“Banking?”

“Multiple thefts.”

“I figured it balanced.” You snuggled down into the sheet. “Each one you find is a win for you too.”

He made a satisfied sound as he thought it over.

“Goodnight kiss if you’re going to stay up and obsess?”

Holding on for a few more seconds, he collapsed down beside you with enough force that it bounced your head from your pillow.

“Hey!”

“I suppose it’s no rush. I have the entire time you’re at work.”

“Mhm.” Your lids felt heavy.

He kissed your forehead and moved the laptop in his grasp. “I have to put this up.”

“Where’d you get that, anyway?”

“Mm, don’t worry about it.” He almost nuzzled your hairline, but found it damp so he hopped  out of bed to put the laptop away.

-

Waking first found you oddly calm. Consciousness came comfortably and recognition over what had occurred the previous night drifted to you. Capturing it with open eyes, you watched your partner’s sleeping form before dragging yourself out of bed. You’d make him breakfast for a change and, in only a slightly hunched stupor, you shuffled over to the kitchen. It was there, with the hidden object just across the room, that you had to keep reminding yourself over and over not to look. Checking would make it obvious. You needed to own this. You’d stolen from him, successfully so far, and that was the whole point of being bad.

You had said you wanted to be a villain.

Was that relegated to one nefarious act?

Pulling out a frying pan to make scrambled eggs, you pondered this query.

Villains were supposed to be evil, but Donnie had never struck you as truly bad. Doing a mental timer as the metal heated up, you folded yourself against the counter to stare at the egg carton. Wondering about the colloquial bad egg, it wasn’t something you could always tell by looking. One that was truly rotten would smell, but that didn’t mean all the bad ones stank. Instead, there were tests, things like floating it in water or getting it all the way to your lips. Nothing in the world was so black and white.

Flicking your gaze to the clock, it was about time so you spread a bit of butter to prevent sticking. Adding the eggs in, one crack at a time, you stirred them to make the scramble. A bit of toast sounding like a nice addition, you switched course. Lowering the heat and you left the eggs for a new appliance. Getting a toaster, you slotted the bread in and looked back over the bar. Clear across the apartment through sheer curtains, your egg was still tucked into his carton. Mostly a cozy lump, putting him in water revealed little other than it calmed him like a balm.

Life was the test of proclivities.

Everyone came in all kinds.

The world shades of moral grey and you fit into that same bland color palette.

Slowing at the thought where you hadn’t moved, you gave an amused puff of air.

How did you fit into all that?

You had been called good and bad over the years with a varying sense of hyperbole. For the average person, you imagined this wasn’t the sort of thing people applied to themselves. They read it in stories where the characters were exaggerated and it was usually clear who the antagonist was. The balancing scales weighing your heart to a feather was mythos. 

Turning around with the toast giving an almost done, you scoured the cabinet as quietly as you could. Slipping a bowl free with only a minor clink of ceramic, you set it down and riffled for your cereal. The type of food Donnie often chided you as not actually being suited for breakfast, you poured a bowl and unplugged the toaster just as it seemed it would pop. Switching between tasks, you plated up the eggs meant for two on one plate with the toast and then splashed a healthy amount of milk into the cereal bowl. Situated, you then sauntered back to bed and over to your partner's side.

He was facing outward which helped as you parted the curtains with your plate. Holding it up towards his snout, you watched the tiniest wrinkle as the scent of breakfast invaded his dreams. Within moments he was blinking awake and humming with slurred affection over you having made breakfast.

“I’ll leave yours here.” You told him warmly.

He hummed having been given the space to wake and you left the cereal behind to go eat your eggs in the living room.

You had just about gotten through your usual portion when you heard a snort of disdain. Trying not to laugh around the tines of the fork, you traded it for a point of toast.

“Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

Silence chased you and you put on your best pious pose as you waited for him to approach. It took a moment, but he appeared, standing nude and with the bowl clasped in one hand. Flowing a gentle current of irritation, he waited for some type of explanation.

“It’ll get soggy.” You offered.

“It’s already soggy.” He bit back.

“Shame. You were too slow I guess.” 

“You didn’t even leave me a spoon.”

“No?” You scooped another forkful of eggs into your mouth.

“Your ploys continue to be childish.” He turned to the kitchen and disposed of his breakfast.

“Crazy these kid games are landing, huh?” You chomped down on toast.

There was another minor bout of silence before he turned the tap on.

-

You were assaulted by your boyfriend as soon as you got home from work. Squeaking at the sudden intrusion, you almost thought it was a hug before his hands roved right into your clothes. Trying to fend him off as you were still half in the hallway, you were no match for his speed and strength.

“Donnie, what are you doing?!” Your voice warbled as he yanked your shirt straight up your body. “Stop, stop!!”

“Where is it?!” He growled, tugging your shirt down to bring you to his squat eye level.

“Where-ah!” Sliding into your pants he squeezed your ass cheeks. “Q-quit!!!”

Several angry clicks sounded in your ear until he lurched backwards, ready to pounce again in a moment’s notice. “My gauntlet! You took it with you! On your person!”

“I didn’t!” The reply popped out of you before you could grab it.

“It’s not here!” His eyes continued to scan you.

“It’s not-?!” You might have felt confusion if your blood pressure hadn't plummeted at the sight of  downy stuffing on the ground.

Stepping forward and pushing your angrily clacking partner out of the way, you found the apartment turned upside down. From the couch, where he’d ripped it to shreds, to the kitchen, where all the cabinets were open and leaking, you knew the bedroom had to be in a similar state.

A short, rattling breath emerged from your lips as you did a slow rotation. Not hooking on it, but passing by, you saw the little astronaut standing a proud protector on his lone shelf where he hadn’t been disturbed.

The spaceman had failed at one job and succeeded in another.

Some protector. 

“Donnie, what the fuck!?” You shoved him.

“Where is it!?” He was immobile.

“That’s the point!” You shoved him again and he relented a single step for your sake.

“Yes, but it doesn’t make sense! You had no planning! You had no time! Without S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s help how could you have-!?”

You slammed your palms into his plastron over and over.

He made a few irritated snorts until he let you push him back several steps.

“You are being such a jerk!”

A light bulb went off for him. “You did plan.” He walked away and you were left to stew with your coat hanging off one shoulder. “You proposed the scenario. You must have been plotting. For how long?” He walked up to his computer where all sorts of models were running.

“It was spur of the moment!”

Without a keyboard, lines of information were being written at an alarming rate.

“Donatello!”

“Depending on the length of time you had, any number of scenarios could have been implemented. If I take into account-”

Slamming the door behind you, you stormed back down the hallway and toward the elevator. “Shelly! Ugh, I know this is last minute and we just talked about it, but…”

Buzz!

“Wanna go get dinner?”

The single vibration nearly rocked off your tech gauntlet off your wrist.

-

“So being villain was fun for ten whole seconds.” You rolled the liquid in your glass where you were plopped down on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s couch and had just finished catching him up.

Similarly aerating his wine, he held his goblet up as if he were making a toast. “Dump him!”

You snorted and had to scramble not to spill.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. repeated himself with a cheer that did cause wine to slosh out. Only for him, a mechanical arm appeared out of his back and wiped the liquid straight out of the air before it could fall.

“Woah…” The sound came out of you as your glass neared your lips.

“I’m sorry, but I’m having a blast right now.”

“I can see that.” You chuckled.

“Pizza at a real dirty restaurant, whine session with wine, like this is the thing! I’m doing it!”

“The human thing?” You asked after a sip.

“Yes!” His eyes turned into stars.

“I mean, you’re crushing it.” You turned and looked around what was a quintessential bachelor pad. Though the layout was identical to Donnie’s preference, the rooms themselves looked like movie sets. With a proper clutter budget, clothes were strewn about just so, little knick knacks made the space feel homey and there were even dirty dishes in the sink. “Did you have someone over?”

“Huh? No. Why?”

You gestured around with a sweep of your glass.

“Oh, pfft. That’s all me. I like to mess around and I like the way the space is. Feels like me, ya know?”

You softened. “Yeah.”

“I stole the dishes.” He pointed.

“Why?” You shook your head at how ridiculous he was.

“I don’t wanna clean the kitchen.”

“So, don’t use it!”

“I didn’t!” He chirped.

“You just wanted the sink full.”

“It looked lonely.” He tipped his head, commiserating.

“You know I thought this place was going to be nothing but a charging port.”

“Ew.”

“Right?”

“That is what dad gave me, but I ordered a bunch of stuff as soon as he left.”

“He’s ridiculous.”

“Dump him!”

“No!” You kicked at S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and he let it connect for a metal thunk. “Ah!”

“Oops.” He leaned forward to study your leg. “You good?”

“No, yeah, sorry. I just forgot cause usually…”

“People dodge.” He snickered. “Not people.” He reminded you and then poured himself over the back of the couch. “See those clothes there.”

You looked where he was pointing. “Sure.”

“None of those fit. Those are just for decoration, but I have been trying new ones since I can now!”

“Fashion show?”

His eyes sparkled and he tossed his glass behind him where it smashed into the wall.

“Shelly!”

“My house, my rules!!!” He screamed as he launched himself, fists in the air, over the couch and into his bedroom.

Modeling several looks from something grungy where he’d smeared black oil under his eyes to something preppy enough for a country club, he was twisting in a simple t-shirt and jeans when he dropped right out of his purchasing process explanation for something else. “So, where’d you hide it?”

“You know.” You were draped over the couch.

“Yeah, but pretend I don’t.”

“That’s a secret.” You grinned.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gasped. “In my own dojo!”

“I know!” You lifted a scandalized hand to your mouth.

“It’s wild though.”

“That he didn’t look there? Yeah.”

“Huh? No, but he kinda did.”

“What do you mean?” You lifted up.

A screen appeared in your face showing Donnie right next to the door in your apartment. Borderline feral and nearly crawling around on all fours, you watched him storm by the astronaut with his head on a constant swivel before he disappeared out of the camera's frame.

You let out a single satisfied laugh. “Dummy.”

“You can barely tell on the feed.”

“It looks good in person too. The only thing is it goes all the way around. If he had moved it, he’d have seen it wasn’t right.” You twirled a finger in demonstration.

“Why’s Major Creeponaut duct taped? Did you try to shove it inside?”  

You chuckled. “Nah, that was from our first kiss.”

“So gross!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. screamed at the ceiling. “Tell me everything.”

“Do you want to know or not?” You laughed.

“Not at all. Tell me.” He took a few hopping steps over before he plopped down, legs crossed, in front of you.

“When a mommy and daddy love each other very much…” You began.

“Stop, stop!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. threw his arms out in waving embarrassment.

“They have the urge to-!”

“No, seriously stop!”

You blinked, waiting.

“You’re getting a message.”

You stared at him for a moment before you turned. “My phone’s on silent from work…”

“So?”

“How do you know?” Looking around, you searched for your bag and found your device.

“How do I explain…?” He rocked to one side. “I can hear the other electronics near me? Kinda like how you hear voices.”

“You’re not tapping in…?” You stared at an increasing number of messages from Donnie.

“I might be like dad, but I’m not dad.”

“It wasn’t comparing you to Donnie...” You thumbed over the preview which was an apology. “You literally stole dirty dishes.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. let the comment sink in before he started laughing. “Oh, true that!”

-

Returning home, your boyfriend once again met you at the door. This time without the attack, he sullenly apologized and you gave him a proper hug. Kissing him back to a baseline mood, he scooped you up, carried you through an immaculate apartment, and to a freshly made bed. He set you down only to curl up in your lap where you rubbed his carapace as he opened up.

“I can’t… leave without my gauntlet.”

“Don’t you have another?” You spread your nails out for an even scratch.

He gave a heady hum and rooted closer to you. “Sentimental.”

“That one’s special?”

He nodded into your thigh. “There’s three more like yours, but only one of mine.”

“Tell me about it.”

Slouching, he sighed. “Not a first, but one of my more important inventions. A universal remote of sorts, it was my backup for my goggles.”

“The ones that short circuited?” You kept one hand to his carapace and used the other to brush the scarring on the side of his head.

He nodded. “I’ve never replaced it. I’ve been upgrading the original.”

Your hand stopped. “That’s… how old is it?”

“Older than S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.”

“I didn’t… know.”

“I didn’t mention.”

“I’m sorry…”

He shook his head. “No, me.”

You patted him. “That’s not withholding, it wouldn’t come up. Do you know how old my phone is?”

“Yes, I know the model.”

“But did I get it the year it came out?” You tilted your head to glimpse his face.

His eyes moved as he thought that over. “Did you?”

“No, two years after. I was so mad; they released the next gen like a week after I got it.”

He didn’t make a sound, but squeezed you.

“Want it back? I’ll take something else.”

He thought for a long moment and you went back to giving him scritches.

He made a little hum before he spoke. “Is it safe?”

“Very.”

“I’ll make do.”

“You sure? It’s really not a big deal.”

He shook his head and reluctantly rose up. “You were successful. I want to honor that.”

“This wasn’t supposed to make either of us uncomfortable though.” Your hand dragged up to his shoulder.

“I’ll survive.” He kissed your hand with confirmation. “Besides, I’ve moved on to the next stage.”

“You’re not looking for it anymore?”

“Oh, I am, but I’ll need information.”

“Shelly’s records are closed and you didn’t find anything at the scene of the crime.” 

His head tipped back and forth as if weighing the options. “Typically I’d move onto kidnapping, extortion, torture, blackmail…”

You stared at him with a growing gaze. “I’m in for quite the week.”

“You think me relentless now?” He almost purred as he leaned into you.

You hummed in return, not taking the bait of his lips.

“Tomorrow.” He confirmed before pouncing on you to shove his carapace back under your digits.

-

Your morning began with retribution for yesterday’s breakfast. You were served what looked like a normal meal, but the orange juice had been all pulp, the eggs were covertly stuffed with shells, and the bottom half of your toast was burnt to a crisp. Laughing at the forethought, you got yourself cereal and he did an amused peacocking as he readied for his day.

Being the first to the bathroom, you hid his toothbrush in the shower.

He found it soon enough, but you heard him knock a few things over in the process.

Getting dressed found he had left all your clothes pristine, but had swapped all the drawers where they usually sat.

Laughing over how he must have prepared that one the previous day, you scurried to the door with a premonition. 

“Wait.” He trailed after, getting his head through a sweater.

You held a guard on your shoulders. “What?”

He made a timeout symbol and you relaxed. Pulling you close, his hands dug into your lower back as he languidly kissed you. Melting into him, you felt his hands move against you before a jingle sounded and he ran. 

“There was a time out!” You chased after him and your keys.

“I timed it back in.” He ducked around the bed. “Return my gauntlet!”

“Never!” You pivoted and charged the kitchen.

“Damnit!” You heard him leap. 

“No! I was here first!” Banging your body against a cabinet, you covered the drawer containing the spare with your body.

You screeched with laughter as he hooked an arm around your waist to lift you out of the way. “You should learn to use your opponent’s power against them.” 

“Or!” You got hold of the keys before letting your body go slack. It shifted his hold and gave you a momentary break. Just long enough to drop down to the ground and break free, you crawled the few steps out from where his long legs impeded him from making another grab. “Bye! See you after work!” You cheered and exited the apartment to him giving an annoyed huff.

-

The next few days found an escalation in what you referred to as the school yard bully ploy. Keeping it playful, it amounted to a prank war the likes of nothing you’d ever experienced. The back and forth sabotage was quickly subverted by your boyfriend's intelligence. Not able to hack your systems, he’d happily entered your bosses where he’d rearranged the entire calendar for the day. The ensuing mess reached throughout the company and IT was none the wiser to whatever was happening. It meant meetings with clients were missed and memos seemingly disappeared. You survived until lunch, nothing outright destructive, but it felt like pure chaos when you called Kaleb.

Your next plan of sneaking hot sauce into his food wasn't going to cut it.

With Kaleb's engineering background, your chill friend had whipped up what he referred to as a pie throwing robot in what seemed like too little time. It meant a detour after putting out office fires and meeting him at a pastry hop. There you ordered for the lot of you as a payment for your friend’s help. He’d attached spindly metal to your bakery box and sent you on your way with another request of pictures.

Promising it, you headed home with the box in tow and entered the apartment in a feigned huff. “I can’t believe you.”

Donnie spun around, smirking in his computer chair like a cartoon villain.

“I got you something still because I’m so nice!” You spoke loud and haughty.

“Pass.” His gaze narrowed on the box and though his lips turned it down, his eyes tracked you with interest.

“Suit yourself. I would never hurt a defenseless pastry.” Setting the container on the counter, you held down the little switch in the back that temporarily stopped the mechanism. You then opened the box wide so Donnie could see and picked out a croissant before closing it back up. “I’ll have your banana caramel roll for breakfast tomorrow then.”

He perked up.

Walking around and munching on your croissant, you looked at him. “Was I ruining dinner or you?”

“Take out.” His eyes were glued to where you’d just been.

“Nice, I’m ordering that place that always messes up your order.” You juggled your treat with your phone.

He made a noise of little interest as he crept over to the box.

You chewed your lip and tried to cover it with the pastry. “You gonna want the same thing?”

“Your choice.”

“Gizzards it is.”

He shot a sour look at you and you chuckled in a scroll.

Looking at it from all angles, he checked to find you trying to pointedly ignoring him.

A testing sniff to the air said he picked up on the promised treat inside and the quiet that followed indicated  your care in having Kaleb using layers of gloves had helped to cover your friend’s scent.

Cracking the lid for the softest scrape of cardboard against itself, he peered inside.

You switched over to your camera and prepared to record a video.

Finding the inside laden with treats, he opened the lid further just as you brought your phone up to track him.

In a flicking snap of metal, cream flung out and splattered across Donnie’s chest and chin.

Little snickers leaked out of you as you stepped up to record him fully. “Good, right?”

His lips were set and he opened the box further to examine the mechanism.

“Kaleb made it. He’s a prank king.”

“My regards.” Donnie grumbled, passing your phone a glance and grabbed his cake.

-

“I’m switching tactics.” Donnie announced the next night.

“What’s next?” You asked, hanging up your jacket. Thankful for the reprieve not because you’d been scorned, but simply because you were running out of ideas. 

You moved over to him.

He received you by holding out his hand.

You took it and he pulled you straight into a waltz.

Spinning with a flip of your stomach, you settled as he led you around and around.

“I’ll try my hand at seduction.”

“Is that new? I’m pretty sure I’ve fended you off before.”

“Sexual advances.” He clarified, his face neutral as he focused on the dance steps.

“Versus… what?”

“Romance.” Coming to a close, he lethally dipped you.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

“I don’t know how you’re supposed to outdo yourself.” You mumbled as he was slow to right you.

“I won’t be.”

“You’re building this up.”

He flicked a gaze at you and walked you over to the computer.

The usual plain purple background was displayed on the cluster of monitors. You looked them over before checking with him.

In a flick of his finger, you watched a large document appear. With little charts and tables, there was a bulk of words that he enhanced. Starting you at the top of the page, it read like a scientific paper, but the content was about touch limitations. Slowing after the third line, you turned to him with recognition. “This is from…”

Donnie didn’t respond and used a finger to slide to a specific paragraph. “’I find myself at a loss…’”

He was reading it aloud from memory as he stared directly at you.

“’I crave Y/N’s very being. Even as I know myself to despise contact, I find an impenetrable ache. This malady should be isolated and quarantined. This is not something to be studied. This is an ailment. A manifestation of a higher power sent to devastate my person. I consider this a visceral attack. I fear I will not recover. I’m already too far gone and therefore all data previous should be discarded. No longer the impartial party I can usually hold my standard to, I also cannot share this research with anyone. It would be revealing my heart, one that I thought had long stopped beating. It yearns now, cracking free layers of debris built up for its own protection. I will not survive this onslaught.’”

“This isn’t what you told me…”

“No..”

“You wrote this… back then…?” You were still reading over exactly what he had just spoken.

“Yes.”

“But the experiment…?” Hitting the end of the paragraph, the next picked back up with tedious data.

“I made it sound like I was doing it for your benefit.”

You nodded, your heart a steady thrum.

“I lied. This is the first recorded instance of my affection for you.”

“You make it sound like you’re dying.”

“I was.”

He hadn’t gotten any closer, but you turned to gawk at him as if he’d made some big move.

“…Care like that. It rips you apart. Rearranges your sense of self. The reason it is labeled ‘crush,’ but for me it was more.”

“Donnie…” Your insides swirled a confused mass. Though he'd since admitted his early interest, he never let on to the depths

“Do you know how long this document is?”

You looked for a little page counter, but not only could you not find one, you weren’t sure how accurate it’d be with the many tables. “No?”

“Over ten thousand words.”

You paled.

That day at the Thai restaurant, he’d spent an entire meal conveying it.                   

That must have been the shorthand version folded even further down.

“How long did this study last?”

“A week…? Or something like that. You said I was novel and sort of gave up.”

“I said many things. To you. To myself.”

“What are you saying now?”

“That I was a lost cause the moment you tried to steal my lunch.” He appeared in your face.

Your skin felt alit. Not with fire or chill, but something new. Surges of blood refreshed your body in a cleanse just for him. Prepared on a cellular level, you stepped closer with an innate shyness that you couldn't place.

You were reformed, but the you of the past emerged.

His fingers ghosted your cheek like you were too precious to touch.

It made your jaw wind as if tortured by yearning.

“I won’t say it.” Another waft of his hand urged your head to tip back without contact. “Not under these circumstances, but this is the closest yet that I’ve come to a confession-”

You kissed him.

A crushing force, he smiled into the exchange before wrapping around you.

You broke between presses for a needy ask. “My win… I need to cash it in… Now… Right now… Please?”

He nodded against your lips and steered you towards the bed.

Fumbling together you shoved at each other’s clothes until you turned to lead. “I top.”

“For the record, this isn’t-” He interrupted himself as your top hit the ground and he kissed down the new real estate of your shoulders. “-what I intended.”

“Yeah, no gauntlet for you. Upset?” You asked as the backs of his legs hit the bed.

“How could I be?” He smiled as he fell back with full confidence.

A trust fall into the mattress, he caressed your form as you crawled up to him. Kissing him senseless into the sheets, he handed himself over to your desire. An odd mismatch where only you held the mad fervor, you kicked off the rest of your clothes. Straddling him nude, you stared down at his wobbling form and he returned the gaze with abject adoration. Melting under it and wondering if this is how he felt back then, you stole his lips for the thousandth time and tried to put care into undoing his wraps.

He caught your wrists for a momentary reprieve and kissed your knuckles to calm you. Only stoking the fires, a whine escaped your throat and he reassured you with a squeeze to your arms that he was there; he wasn't going anywhere. Burying the need into him, you kissed and nipped down to your mating mark before you bit into it. His head rolled at the move and you felt the faintest insistence of his hips below yours. Not having the leverage to grind him, you instead focused on clenching your teeth with a minor gnaw until his skin broke.

You earned your favorite honed chirp.

Stomach doing backflips, you needed yourself stuffed to prevent more. Only shimmying his pants down enough to reveal his erection, you rose up adjusting his shaft at your entrance before enveloping him in one swift drop.  He exhaled sharply and you tossed your head back for a mewling noise as some basal itch was scratched. Rolling your hips into riding him, his jaw fell slack as he watched you. With his hands loosely holding the thick of your hips, he stared up as if cradling some precious treasure.

If his gaze were any indication, you were long sought and nearly unattainable. Feeling jittery, each rock sent tingles up your spinal cord. Lapping at your brain stem, misfires indicated waves of emotions, each drowning the next. From confidence to devotion, he poured them into you, not through your connection, but his gaze alone. His cock a superfluous peg there to keep you tethered and it was his face that was stirring on your ministrations.

His lips parted.

He spoke a short phrase in another language.

“No…!” You cried, grinding down hard onto him.

“It’s not proper.” He elucidated, grabbing your hands for a reassuring squeeze.

“You can’t just say it in another language like that!”

His eyes shimmered as he spoke it again in an entirely different way.

“Donnie!”

He had another and another.

You renewed your efforts, trying to stop him with your hips alone.

It only spurned more languages off his lips as he spoke his adorations in all the ways, but the one you understood.

“So unfair!” Your pitch rose several octaves as you grew close.

“I know.” He slipped out of a foreign tongue before dipping right into another.

“Then why!?”

“I won't say it like this. Not for some gambit!” He tugged down on your hips and you felt his knot expand.

“Shit, we’re g-gonna-!”

“Together!”

You could only scream his name as you both came. Body arching back to accommodate as much of him as possible, you heard a thousand words fly off his lips. Some a rehash of things you’d heard, he proclaimed a universal language of love.

Not coming down, but instead tapering off, he was slow to rise up and hold you. Moving deliriously with him, you found a limp press of a kiss before burying yourself into his neck.

Loosely running his hands over you with a revelatory awe, he nuzzled against your skin to mumble, “You are my greatest mistake.”

-

Fluttering lashes brushed the stiff plastron you were dozing against. Cozy and satisfied, your cheek slid against the smooth surface to glimpse your partner. His eyes open, he stared up at the ceiling with an expression similar to how you felt. “You up?”

In a blink of registration, he struggled to look down at you. “Hey.”

“Thinking?” You asked anew.

He hummed an agreement and pet your back.

“Bout what?” Settling against his pectoral scutes, you let your eyes close.

“When I mess up, it’s no longer a failure.”

You made a curious sound as that didn’t make much sense to your sleep coddled mind.

“Before.” His hand stopped and spread flat. “A misstep would cause ruin. I couldn’t afford them. With any, with you.”

“We messed up a lot early on.”

“And look where that almost got me.”

“Us and almost, but not.”

“True, I'm not brooding.” He did one long languid stroke down your torso. “A consideration, late stage revelation.”

“You’re surprised?” 

You felt him nod. “This whole exercise has been one mistake after another, but none damaging.”

“Yeah, as far as mistakes go…” You drew a curve with a finger to his plastron.

He squeezed your ass cheeks and you whimpered against him.

“Sensitive…” You huffed and scooted up to bury your face more comfortably against his neck.

He kissed the top of your head. “Referring to you or me?”

“Sensitive?” You chuckled.

“At fault.” He clarified, threatening to grope you again.

You tried to squirm away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

He relented by moving his hand back to the small of your back.

“Both.”

“Shame. I was going to applaud how vile you were.”

You blew an unintentional raspberry and sat up to stare at him, incredulous. “Sure, I’m so evil.”

“It’s true.” He arched a knowing brow. “You’ve ruined me.”

“I’ve taken one thing from you and pied you in the face with help, how is that ruin?”

“You’ve taken a great blight and nearly erased the stain.”

“You did that.”

“You spurned me on.”

“You mentioned this before.”

“I believe it.”

“You’ve been wrong.”

“I’ll admit it when I realize.”

You pecked his cheek. “Can’t wait.”

-

“Intimidation is next.” Donnie told you first thing in the morning.

You were breathing in the steam of a hot drink. “Huh?��

“My gauntlet.”

“Oh yeah. I was ready to just let time run out. Only a couple days left.”

“I want to win.”

“You’ve already won.”

“I have.”

Smiling into your mug, you let both warmths fill you before you went to get ready. The usual routine, you kept waiting for him to appear as a tower of terror, but he didn’t approach. Seemingly only getting ready himself, you got a goodbye peck on your way out. Carrying the press to your cheek through your commute. You worked with little worry and made it through the trip home without complaint. With anything waiting for you behind the door, you prepared yourself with a deep breath as you opened it.

Donnie stood across the room in a readied pose.

You took your time taking your jacket off and setting your bag aside before addressing him fully.

Unperturbed by the wait, you spied the style of outfit on him that you hadn’t seen in over a year. Cool pieces that were street wear reminiscent of his villain costume, sleek black utility pants were cuffed off with sharp combat boots. The understated bottoms accentuated his show stopping top where a wrap jacket was buckled off on one side and its enormous hood bowed around his shoulders, ready to conceal him at a moment’s notice.

You sensed anticipation in the air.

“Arm of the couch.”

Looking where he directed, there were clothes there. A splash of black with some gold accenting, you slid a hand over the cotton and what felt some stiffness mixed in. “Not really scary.”

“Stand off.”

“You have to give me a little bit more.”

“Change. You’ll see.” He walked off into the bedroom.

Staring after him and feeling a bit like you walked into a cut scene unprepared, you stripped. For clothes that definitely weren’t yours, they were tailored to your exact measurement and felt the epitome of comfort. Black pants hugged your body just right, but had a flexibility that you could move freely in. Doing a testing stomp in your own shiny new pair of steel toed boots, you looked over your arms. With one bare and the other emerging from a ballooned sleeve that was attached with a ring to your middle finger, you were wearing what you could only think of as a corseted hoodie. The top had the usual loose nature with a hood, but it was cinched around your waist and was obviously missing one of its sleeves. It gave you free roving motion to your dominant hand and perfectly coordinated with reaching to your hip where a pouch was strapped to that leg. Patting the pocket found something with a grip inside.

The only piece left that you hadn’t put on was a golden yellow bandana. Similar to his, it was missing the eye holes, so you carried it along as you walked over to the partition between rooms. “Don, what do I do with the-?”

You heard a warp of metal and watched as his bo extended to full height.

“Mask, if you prefer anonymity.”

“Like a cowboy.” You mimed holding up the fabric over your mouth.

He gave a nod and readied his stance.

“You haven’t really trained me to fight…” You felt jumpy and ready to dig into that holster.

“What have I taught you?” He charged forward, clearly holding back.

Using the golden mask, you blocked his bo as he telegraphed his swing.

“Not bad. Deflect would have been better.”

Twisting the fabric and tossing one end over the other, you looped it around his staff and yanked it to the side.

It brought his face up to yours.

“Mano e mano! I get it now.” You grinned.

“Tell me where my gauntlet is.” His voice husked.

“Never!” You lowered your center of gravity and twisted your arms around the mask to spin the staff.

He let it get sent further away.

Stumbling a few feet away from him and further into the bedroom, you panicked as he turned for another strike. A flick of his gaze hit your hip and you dug for whatever weapon was there. Finding two objects inside, you unceremoniously got one into each hand and then threw your arms out in a readied way that you had seen Leo do. The flick extended something and you had to glance down to see you were holding two extendable batons. “Are these legal!?”

He dropped his act for a moment to give you a bitterly sardonic stare.

Puffing up in annoyance, you charged him and he blocked with ease.

Though you had no idea what you were doing, you could feel his expertise. Through each swing, he was also leading you in what to do next. Teaching on the fly, he emboldened you to push harder. It culminated in a dancing duel around the apartment where you exchanged blow after blow. Neither of you once getting physically struck, you knew he could disable you in a heartbeat. Instead, it was about the battle and the heat to it. Charged from exhilaration and exertion, you pushed him back until he flipped over the couch.

He landed on the toes of his good foot on the coffee table and balanced his staff perpendicular to his body on his other raised knee to appraise you with an overflowing expression.

Further boosted by his pride, you squared for a stronger stance and lifted your batons. “Give up?”

“Yield and tell me where it is.” He responded coolly.

“Eh.” You gave a little shrug. “Don’t wanna.”

“Suit yourself.” With only the slightest dip, he launched, almost brushing the ceiling and you had to squander a few steps back. Losing your footing, he landed a force around you with his bo. The staff pressed across your front and, in a twirl that blurred your vision, he shoved upward. It manipulated the batons clean out of your hands and pinned your wrists above your head in one fluid movement. “Mercy?” He teased hot breath along your jawline.

Able to feel the staff with your fingers, you feigned your most pitiful expression which he ate up. Something you’d known from groping it before, it took only a quick slide for you to find the telescoping mechanism. His staff collapsed above you and you kneed into his stomach. Holding back since there was no air to press out and its firm surface would only damage you, you instead used it as a pressure point to throw your weight into him. Having lost his hand hold, it was just enough to throw him off and you both fell back onto the floor.

He scrambled for leverage and you fought to grab his hands. A silly squabble to an outsider, you caught a wrist of one hand and a single digit of his other to force them to his throat since you couldn’t manage over his head.

Leaning over him and panting, you smiled. “How about you beg?”

His grin grew wicked and you couldn’t steel yourself in time as his knees kicked up and his thighs slammed into your ass. It popped you forward until you were almost straddling his face and broke your grip. Swift, his arms swept downward to lock onto your thighs, but you dug your knees into the sides of his shell. Throwing all your weight to one side, he only caught one hip before you crushed said arm to the ground as you rolled. Momentum put him momentarily on top before it continued and you were the victor once again.

Kicking a foot out, you caught a sprawled limb under your boot and crossed his body to exert the rest of your force on his other arm. “Well!?”

He gave a breathy laugh. “Well done, where’d you learn that?”

“I didn’t. Full luck.” You giggled at him.

“I want you.” He purred.

A little shudder wiggled your hips. “Don’t cheat like that…!”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“A trick.” You pursed your lips.

“Tempting, but not that.” He whispered softly as himself and then projected his voice to show he was back in character. “Why fight when we could work together?”

“I betrayed you, stole from you, what’s to say you won’t do the same to me?” You put on your best glower. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“You also can’t end me like this.”

Shifting your boot where it was digging into his arm, you looked over to find he was right. He could probably break this entrapment now, but under the guise of the battle all you could do was continue to pin him. “Give me your staff as collateral.”

“It’s behind you.”

Staring him down for a long moment, you jumped away and scrambled to get it.

He was slow to sit up and show you his hands.

You extended his staff and kicked your lost batons away where they slid somewhere into the bedroom.

“To an exceedingly beneficial partnership.” He grinned.

“I’ll listen and nothing more.” You waited for the turn coat and got to your feet.

His hands stayed where you could see them. “A change of scenery?”

You adjusted your posture for a question.

The far finger on one of his hands came to his thumb. 

You held his staff ready to whack him.

He turned his hand over and snapped.

The lights went out.

Backing up where it was suddenly pitch black, you heard several pieces of furniture move until the lights came back on to a far lesser degree. It took a few adjusting blinks, but you found the sofa and coffee table had been pushed flush to the wall with the door. In its place sat a lovely round table, set ready for a romantic dinner. Around the room were now candles, all lit for a flickering honey amber glow.

“Wha-?” The bo loosened in your grip.

“I take my partnerships quite seriously.” Donnie stood ready in the kitchen.

“You…” At a loss, you walked over to the table. “You… uh… could have… poisoned it?”

“How does that benefit me?” He gestured for you to sit. “It would not reveal the information I seek.”

You collapsed the staff and sat down in the chair across from him. “From fighting to wine and dining?”

“I play to my advantage.”

“No scruples.” You looked over your place setting and the cutely folded napkin in the center of your plate.

“Some may say.” He turned and you noticed a large strange contraption on the counter. It just barely fit under the upper cabinets and had the look of a mini fridge. Grabbing a metal handle, it had an unlatching mechanism and it clicked to open. A puff of steamy air poured out and he reached in to remove two plates. A gourmet looking meal, he walked them over and exuded power.

You felt like you had already lost as you pulled your napkin into your lap.

He set your plate down without clinking the china and passed you a coy look.

You returned it with an unsure one and he simply smiled as he placed his own plate down. Smoothly taking his seat and flicking his napkin for placement over his legs, he scooped up a knife and fork to address you. “I see talent in you.”

“Should I be flattered?” Your mouth watered as the smell wafted up.

 “Up to you. I would be.”

“Such an ego.” You cut into a steak medallion and marveled how your knife slid through it like butter.

“When one can back it up?” He took his first bite and watched you while he chewed.

“What do I get out of it?” You smeared into a sauce and when you put it in your lips you had to break character to swoon.

He did the same to savor your reaction.

Clearing your throat, a little embarrassed, you tried the sides next. “Well?”

“Besides my tutelage?”

“Yes.” Turning your head from the bite, a happy little moan leaked from you.

You heard a little rhythmic thump and he was forced to readjust his posture.

Your heart somersaulted.

You could see a faint dusting to his cheeks. “You’d have my everything to command. My empire shared.”

“All for some gauntlet?”

“All for being the first to deceive me.”

There was something about his face.

That phrase was both in character and not.

The weight of truth shifting the scales, you had to openly gape.

That couldn’t be possible, could it?

No, he had scars to prove otherwise.

“Donnie-”

“Flukes.”

He read your mind and felt yourself sharply inhale.

“Not praying on naivety, jumping on a moment of weakness, or making a move while I was already down.”

You had to rest your fork and knife on the edge of your plate.

“You named your intent and executed. I am at your mercy. You are the first and only.”

Vision shifting, you returned to your plate and took a few bites in rapid succession to stave off your closing throat.

Across from you, you could feel his smile as he continued to dine the same.

You made it about halfway through before you went for a drink to find there wasn’t one.

He scrambled up and into the kitchen where he quickly returned with two full glasses.

Your smile felt like it took up your whole face.

You loved him.

Taking in the space along with a sip, you returned to him with the intention of giving your answer.

“I must have you.” He interjected before you could.

“You’ll over do it.”

“Impossible.” He dabbed his mouth before rounding the table.

He knelt in front of you and your entire body constricted.

He’d already said he wouldn’t confess his love under this guise so you hoped that extended to a proposal.

“What are you doing?” You held onto the pieces of your voice.

“There will always be more.” He held out his hand and you slipped yours into it. “My affections for you have no limit. They will continue to grow as long as you give them even the slightest attention. I’m bewitched and at your mercy.”

“which you didn’t call it earlier.” You almost felt bad interrupting his speech.

His grin said he didn’t mind. “Show my devotion under duress? When I can present of my own volition?” He brought your hand forward for a chaste kiss.

You melted. “You’re showing me your whole heart. Don’t you want to leave something to the imagination?”

“No. I only want you.”

“You’ve missed something.”

He dropped his sweet nothings to stare with genuine surprise. “What?”

“You already have me.”

He surged forward and caught you in a kiss. Draping your arms over his shoulders, you stoked the flames for a more tender press and he melted against you. Stealing as many as some unknown appropriateness allowed, he eventually retreated reluctantly. Parting with an extra peck to your knuckles, he held your hand as he crossed the table to return to his seat.

“I’ll need that to finish this amazing meal.”

“Sweet sorrow.” He mused, letting go.

You sent your lingering blush to your plate and took a few more bites.

“I may have jumped the gun.” He had a normal candor to his voice and you assumed the role play was over.

“Yeah?”

“I meant to do that with dessert.” He seemed a little irritated and bit his fork a little too hard.

“What else did you make?”

“Soufflé.”

“Shut up.”

“One vanilla, one chocolate.”

“Did they both turn out?”

“Hadn’t fallen last I checked.”

“I’ve never had a fresh one!”

“I hope to do it justice.”

Grinning, you hurried to finish your meal and he cleaned his plate. He then cleared the dishes for you and refreshed you with a glass of water which you sipped as he went to get the next course. “What is that thing?”

“This?” He set the plates down and gestured to the box. “A warmer to maintain the food.”

“The plates weren’t hot.”

“Smart technology.”

“Are the soufflés in there?”

“Yes, I have concerns about the scent transfer.” He readied for the hot air as he opened the door. “Hm.”

“How is it?”

“Haven’t fallen, but the smell…”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

He whisked two large ramekins out and your eyes shot wide in excitement at the fluffy overflowing desserts.

Getting up on sheer instinct, you walked over to him and he set them down on the counter for you to inspect. “If I poke it will it collapse?”

“Best to do with a spoon.”

“Fine, fine.” You feigned throwing your hands up and headed back to the table. “Oh, yeah!”

He hummed a questioning response as he approached.

“You won, let me get your gauntlet.” You passed the table heading toward the door.

“The dessert…” He sounded sullen as you left him.

“What about it?” You grabbed the gauntlet off the astronaut and turned.

His limbs sank and you watched the soufflés tip in his grasp.

“Ah, Donnie!”

They hit the floor before you could reach him.

“What happened? Why?!”

“Do that again.”

“What?” You surveyed the damage, steering clear of stepping in the fallen dish.

“Again.”

Unaccustomed to that bitter heat, you shrank a little into yourself.

He didn’t relent so you returned to the astronaut and hovered.

“Place it.”

You set it down as it was, nerves shaking your fingers.

He stared hard at you until you had to break eye contact.

“Pick it up.”

You did so and were slow to walk it over with your eyes glued to the ground.

“This whole time…” He sounded a step away from rage.

Feeling worse than the dessert looked, you held out the gauntlet.

You felt the weight of it leave your hand.

It brought anxious words to your lips. “I-I never thought I was outsmarting you. I just thought… you hide things in plain sight. It’s a trope or something. I wasn’t trying to humiliate you. I didn’t think it was clever. I’m sor-”

Something brushed your arm.

Having not seen it, you looked up to find him standing beside you. He wasn't facing you and was instead staring down at the table with an unreadable expression. Feeling hopeless, you watched as he reached out and caught the table cloth. Wincing in preparation, he gathered up each edge slowly and methodically. Everything on the table tipped and fell including your water which splashed before he tied the whole thing up into a giant bundle.

“Donnie, please-!”

Grabbing the knot, he tossed the entire sack into the kitchen where the dishes shattered inside.

“Donatello!”

He addressed you and you froze under the scalding heat pouring off of him.

Knees feeling weak, he held out his hand and on pure instinct you slotted yours into it. With the faintest pull, he led you the step to the table where you got the sense he wanted you to sit. Turning within his grasp to do so, you hopped up at nearly the same time he dropped to his knees. His name on your lips again, you almost spoke it when his fingers slid behind your ankle as if you were a porcelain doll. Something infinitely precious, he brought your left foot up and set your boot on his thigh. He then began the exceedingly careful action of unlacing your boots and you could only watch him with growing interest.

With one final tug, he pulled the lace free and only then worked to remove your boot. A slow rock to release it from your foot, he was just as careful in setting the shoe aside. Hooking the top of your sock with an attentive digit, he rolled the fabric down until your foot was free.

Your nerves flared as he cradled your arch.

You hadn’t had a chance to shower after the whole work day or from the following workout. “D-Don, wait!”

Ignoring you, his face lowered and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your foot.

Sparks shot off at the delicate nature and he lifted only a few centimeters before placing another.

Your thighs pressed together and he continued his trek up until your pant leg stopped him. He then left you only to repeat the same process with your other foot. By the time he reached your hem a second time, you were love struck. Painting your utter being, you sent the adoration down to him where you saw it returned as he closed in. Coming up like you willed him to, he stopped short and a complaint died on your lips.

Fingers barely brushing your hips, he found your waistband and traced it toward the center. Not fully touching as if you’d shatter with the slightest pressure, he got the button undone and the sound of the zipper going down unraveled your mind. Hips trying to meet his hands, he left your fly down and moved to tuck his digits into your hem. Your arch helped and he used the space to shimmy the fabric down.

Slow and deliberate, he took your underwear down with the pair as he peeled the bottoms from you. Twitching with each inadvertent graze, it was the absence of lust that was your undoing. Pants pooling around your ankles, he removed the fabric one leg at a time before he neatly folded the clothes. Setting them aside as if they were precious garments, he gazed up at your legs as if he had never seen you uncovered before.

A creature unlike any other, his hands hovered, afraid to sully your perfection. Squirming to try to meet him, he avoided you with a near clinical nature until he ditched his research to feel you anew. Starting right where he’d left off on your right foot, he explored with his lips and snout as he tasted every inch of your flesh. Rounding the entirety of your calf before he would move upward, you were panting his name by the time he hit your knees. Nuzzling at the sound was the only indication he was aware of you. He worked your round thigh and avoided the area between your legs.

Shuddering as he mouthed up to the joint of your hip, he descended again and you almost wished you were a mermaid. Something with a singular lower body, you wanted him to continue forward instead of having to reset. A beached siren, you would sing him a sweet melody if only he would abandon his ship and offer himself up to you.

Moving through the same steps, this time when he reached your other hip socket, his hand extended in a testing brush of your cotton top. Tracing the gold boning in your corset, he skipped over your chest for drawstrings. Toying with the aglet, he removed himself from you and appeared to hover in your face. Sensing him like one would a hummingbird and fearing he’d disappear, you reached out.

He caught your hand and you waited with a weak whine in case he’d push it away, he instead pulled it close. Curling your digits to cup his cheek, he leaned his weight there while staring love into your eyes. Lips parting for a shaky breath, he gave a little nod before he turned to nose and kiss your palm. Needing more, but unable to extrapolate, you watched him put your hand back where you had been gripping the table’s edge for dear life.

He shifted focus with closed eyes as he reached behind you to undo the corset’s ties. The fabric soon loosened and he followed the hem around to the side. Lifting your arms, ready for him, he pulled up with the same rolling move to bunch the fabric as much as it would allow. Boning prevented much, but he got to your armpits before he adjusted his grip to flip the top off of you.

Feeling a sweep of relief that air-cooled skin granted, he was slow at receding as if it brought your being into focus. Wanting to scream that you were already his possession, his arms disappeared around your back again and you readied yourself for your bra to be removed. A silent pop, the fabric let go of its hold on you and he traced up feathered touches over your shoulder straps. Sliding them off one at a time, by the time the band unseated from below your breasts, you were gnawing on your now raw lip.

Thumbing over your chin to stop you, a mewl leaked out and his eyes watered at the sound. Wanting to soothe him or do anything other than hang on, you couldn’t wrench your fingers free as he knelt once again. Following up his predetermined path, he planted rows of kisses across your stomach. Yielding an immediate crop, you were on your back of your own volition and he only continued to sow.

Reverent to a fault, he filled the expanse of your torso without shifting to erogenous duty. Your breasts were simply more skin for him to trace. Etching your soul to paper for use in great academic discovery, he diverted course as he hit your collar and shifted to your left shoulder. Arm detaching from you for his own use, he curled his fingers under your wrist to lift further as he worked his way down. Feeling it in your very veins, you mourned what you did not know you needed. Something beyond you and of a higher existence, you could only tell for certain that it wasn’t sexual.

Infinitely more, the signals crossed in a way you couldn’t repair. Not made for his actions, you could only tell that what was between your legs felt inappropriate. Your leaking desire made a mockery of his work and you despised that it wasn’t within your power to stop. Wanting to be a pious vessel for him, your being quaked as he seared off each of your fingertips with a kiss.

Knowing that meant one more round, your head lolled as he returned to your chest. Making a V, he trended the other direction across your right shoulder and, in a swerve, your head bumped his. It knocked him out of his stupor where he briskly rubbed his cheek to yours. An animal-like contact, you returned with as much as you could before he deemed the interaction satisfactory and continued his work.

A puppet without strings, he sought your joints as he kissed across your other arm. Once carved and now painted, you moved for him. A master of none, he was reveled in you though he’d been the one to drain you of yourself. He animated through his lips and you only wanted for him to use you more. Feeling useless without him, he capped off the ends of your digits and appeared again, that roving elusive bird.

You thought you might fall over and he must have noticed because he grabbed your shoulders. Mentally thanking him, your head tipped forward and you felt him push. Odd as he had been more interested in operating around you, you resisted the move until you realized how you were being piloted. It was a turn and you felt doused in the fact that he hadn’t been able to reach your back.

“I can’t…” Your whine hit your ears.

You couldn’t move.

You’d plummet over the edge.

You’d leave this world.

You needed his anchor.

“You can.” He spoke warm beside your head.

Feeling a deep throb within your body, you couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken.

His voice now a foreign one, you shook your head and he let it fall to his shoulder.

“You can.” He repeated with a nuzzle.

A strung out noise pulled from you, you heeded his direction and he got you turned around. Edging you to curl forward and expose your spine to him, you imagined he would flay off chunks of your meat like a fish. Carving skills learned from years of training, he’d yield perfect filets and sear them off with only salt for flavor.

His lips hitting the base of your neck, you unintentionally cried out for the blade. None came and instead he kissed the worries away with each baked press. A toasted stone, it helped ground you and, as he filled out the expanse of you, some of your sanity returned. Tickling toward the center of your spine and downward, it caused muscle groups you’d long forgotten to contract. A writhing mess by the time he inched around your hips, he had to hold you down because you kept trying to rise off the table.

When he left you for a momentary reprieve, it felt like a breath. The first after near suffocation, it was a deep respite of illumination. Drinking in enlightenment, the rustling of fabric signified the change of being. Reality was being swapped and you were an autonomous being. As much of a fact that was, you also couldn't help your tether to Donnie. Newly born, his forging was of his responsibility. 

With a show of hands, he returned, standing, and picked up at your hairline. Moving up to your crown, you rolled your neck back to give him access as he worked his fingers into where his lips could not. Soon staring at the ceiling with some sort of sight, something moist barely tapped the top edge of one of your butt cheeks and your eyes widened as you placed it as his cock.

 He was not so innocent.

You were the same.

Keenly alive, you broke free from the last of your bindings and left him. He watched on, a painting of a mortal who’d tasted ambrosia and you the god doomed to fall. Your back turned to him, you got on legs that you knew would hold you. It was your body to command and the you who only moments ago thought otherwise felt like some curse you'd broken free from. 

An immortal unfairly imprisoned, his existence shifted as you stood nude and powerful. He was no master and had instead come to possess you momentarily. He was an ear to coax and despite your allure, he'd been the one to free you of his own violation. Shifting your weight from hip to hip, your head lifted high as you finally turned to him.

Whatever expression you wore destroyed what was left of him.

Caught having touched what no mortal should, a pathetic chirp exited his body and you approached.

Falling like a tower, he was forced to kneel as you towered over him.

Save for his eyes glued to yours, his being screamed of his lowly station.

A smile picking up your lips, he chirped again, even more pitiful, as you finished your approach. Where he looked up at the object of his worship, you shifted your weight to your right foot. Lifting the left that he started all this with, you touched the tip of your big toe to his pectoral scutes. Spurned by your being, he crumpled backward as you exerted pressure.

Placing the full force of your foot to ensure he’d stay down, he squeaked his compliance and you removed the appendage to regard the whole of him. Laying on his carapace, he spread with full submission and his cock swayed to flag you down. Regarding the organ with the affection that one might give an old childhood toy, you traced the line of his plastron to his face. Gaze piteous for his transgressions, you walked the side of him before moving to place a foot on either side of his head.

It gave him an unencumbered view of your sex and you watched him regard what was above him like a rare bloom. One only fated to have its petals spread once a century, you adjusted your stance a final time before dropping down. Knowing this to be his only chance, he caught your thighs as you sat on his face.

Tipping the bowl back to drink your everything in, your knees hit the floor and you cried out as his tongue pressed into you. Scorching heat of your defiling fall, you were sent further forward. You imagined he gave up breathing in exchange for this moment and you were forced to slap a hand to the floor to keep from doing an outright somersault. Eating you out like his very life depended on it, your other hand buried into his mask, pulling on the fabric and you shoved down the top of his head to make sure he served your ethereal being as he should. 

Nails bit your thighs as his snout nudged your clit. His tongue still buried, the appendage felt endless as he siphoned all he could. Your life force tied directly to his, your orgasm felt like it was coaxed by fate. Something needing to culminate to prove that both of you still existed in your current forms, the winding felt like a woven cloth. Made by the fates, the spool rotating for the world’s loom, you shouted.

His only signal, you ground down into him, snuffed out the last of his breath. Cumming only for your pleasure, you allowed your body to spasm and your voice carried the necessary tune. The design of which was orchestrated by him and you felt him still as he drank in the sound along with the last of your juices. Feeling weak and cut off from the god’s might, you slumped, arms no longer made to bear a load of mortality.

You were rising from your fall and it made no sense until you felt him readjust his hold. Dizzy and drunk off your own supply of chemicals, you slacked above him. Moving further, you were deposited onto the flat of his stomach and when his plastron pressed to your sex, you gave an overtaxed jolt. He chirped sweet nothings and aided in your come down until you were again clay for him to mold.

Formless, he searched for your shape, afraid to touch in case the wrong form be built. Reverted to your essential dogma, you needed to help your mate. Your hands rose on this instinct and you watched them as they moved to grab your own breasts. Rolling the fat sacks in your hands, they took what had to be the right shape so you left them. Trending downward, you squeezed bits of yourself, pinching skin and molding what had yet to find its place. Leading down your body and to the little pool you created over his stomach, a touch down into your sex cemented the last of you.

Ready to be fired, he was brimstone and his kiln sat at attention behind you. Lifting on clay limbs, they held your form up long enough to deliver it to the fires. There you dropped and felt yourself split in two as his cock plunged into your body. A snarl ripped from your partner and you felt weak as his Hephaestusian powers awoke. The volcano itself, he sought to overwhelm you. It was all too much and the words you formed made little sense. The foreign tongue couldn't reach you and you were trapped in the lava flow. 

He hadn’t moved. 

You had only been tossed in for your first fire in an attempt to set, bone dry.

Now paled and ready for the final cook, your hands appeared in your vision. Curious spread digits, they reached out until they found the ridge of his pectoral scutes. As soon you made contact, his own flew up to catch your wrists as if you'd mistakenly committed some great taboo. Afraid of what that might be, his face contorted as your body moved with his. His distress troubled you and you meant to soothe him. Reminding you of your connection, you clenched his cock and the twine paining him snapped.

A vibration revved so intense you saw the minor quiver of your fingers. Lifting one hand up to observe the phenomena, it disappeared up close and you frowned. Looking down to see the other hand still shaking, your brows scrunched as you tried to make sense of where the source was. Far stronger than your tech gauntlet, it seemed to stem from where you touched Donnie. Having seen him just injured, you felt like a bother for putting that jittery sensation onto him.

You'd have to let go to save him.

He still had your wrists cuffed so when you tried to retreat, he wouldn’t let you.

“Let go…” You protested.

He shook his head.

“What?” Your lips felt lame.

He pulled hard on your hands.

It tugged your digits up until your fingertips curled over the edge of his plastron. Skimming the skin above, you felt his chest oscillating at a higher frequency.

The vibration was coming from him.

Now searching for the exact source, you encircled his neck to find it there along with a guttural purr echoing from his throat. “I don’t understand…?”

“Churr.” He could barely get the word out as the sound swallowed up his voice.

“Churr.” You repeated the incantation and he gave a smile as the power turned up.

Hands now another connection point, this churr shook your very bone structure. The circuit completed, you again clamped down on his cock. He squeaked through the churr and you felt yourself descend. Not letting you traverse the depths alone, he encircled you as you finally began to ride him. A drag of your hips churned the water into a whirlpool that threatened to swallow you whole. Your partner, a devolution of chirps and churrs, disturbed the fluidity and kept you afloat until he forced you upright.

Folding overtop you, his knees kicked up as your backrest and you were buried into his chest. Feeling whole, your limbs wrapped around him as you rocked together. A pump to keep the water filling your vessel from sinking the ship, the back and forth exchange staved off the storm. Calypso christening your union, you felt like crying and the thought manifested tiny water droplets. Confused as your face wasn’t wet, you searched for the new leak and found it on Donnie's cheeks.

Brushing furiously to shoo the invaders away, you saw love as the source of the well. Forever bound, the overflow sought your ducts until you  dripped with little commiserations. Closer than ever, he brought your foreheads together for further commingling. His churrs echoed in your ears and quieted all useless noise. It slowed time until neither of you rocked and resorted to the smallest grind.

Depths plugged satisfactorily, the micromovements were only meant to maintain the connection. Growing weaker by the second because you had all you needed, you kissed and it felt like something new. Whether it was the roleplay or his new ability, your lip lock enhanced and he waxed poetic; there was no upper limit to his love. Soaring on the thought, it was amongst a thousand shallow thrusts that you came.

Having had no warning of your orgasm, when it struck, you drowned in the many tears. Something silent beyond guppy gasps, your wrenching signaled his own. Mind lost to the white noise of his churr, your wringing forced him to join you. His breath, his vibrations, and his cum brought true silence as your existence had been fully excavated. With Donnie’s locked knees as the only thing keeping either of you upright, you slacked against one another. Toasty, you allowed yourself to sleep, just like that.

- 

Waking was brought about by a jostle to your body. Wanting to doze for many more hours, you frustratingly found the room much darker than you’d left it. Many of the candles had burnt out while a few hung on, flickering with their last breath. Your head rolled to find a clock. You could almost see the one in the kitchen and, though it was upside down, you thought it read sometime after midnight based on the shape of the digits.

It meant you’d been like this for hours and it was Donnie who struggled to rise. Breaking the calcified seal of your hips brought an ache that cemented the time frame and you both groaned loudly to free yourselves. Uncoordinated and a mess, you fell away from one another. Weak and not wanting to lie on the floor a second more, you were the first to get on your hands and knees where his spent leaked down your legs.

Feeling like a filthy animal, you dropped your ass down and let his cum drip to the floor as you forced your bearings. They didn't come readily and you had to tap reserves. Summing all you could, you noticed a ramekin laying on its side. Reaching for it, its cool touch helped with your bearings and you turned it to find some kind of gooey mixture inside. There were spoons once, a far thought reminded you, but their absence meant you had to forage. With half open lids, you caught a nearby chair to get yourself upright.

Toting your prize along with your stumbling and trembling form, you made it to the kitchen and found blessed rest against a counter. Another chill that you despised for its wakefulness, you gathered enough strength to register you were close to the silverware drawer. Wondering about the mystery mixture, you took an embarrassing amount of time to draw a single spoon from the rest. Not to be deterred by one struggle, you rushed as soon as you had a utensil and plunged it into the dish. Getting a solid scoop of white fluff, you brought it to your lips for a burst of sweetness.

“Can… I have… one?” A raspy voice sounded beside you.

Looking with surprise, you found Donnie the source and wondered what had happened to have ruined his throat in such a way.

Unable to place it, you delved out another scoop and held it up to him.

He had to hold himself with one hand to the counter, but he leaned toward enough to take the bite and relished it without releasing the spoon from his teeth.

“That’s my soufflé.” Your own voice wasn't near as destroyed, but sounded thin upon listening. 

Frowning around your utensil, he allowed you to pull it out only to ask something. “You… don’t… want… some of… this…one?” He shook another ramekin.

“Chocolate.” You remembered as pieces started to assemble.

He nodded and scooped a spoon for himself out from the drawer that had been left open. Trying his gathered treat first as you had, he made a bitter face. “Cold…”

“So’s this one.” You noted, leaning into him to await your bite.

He took a while getting a good amount onto his spoon before offering it to you.

Like him, you held it with your teeth before the flavor made you release. “It’s good.”

He got out a repulsed grunt before he was struck with what looked like a migraine.

“You okay?”

“That’s… your first…” He grouched.

A laugh shined brightly through the dark before you realized it was coming from you.

He returned it with a smoker’s enthusiasm and you got your strength up by feeding one soufflés. It got you both ambling, unwashed, toward bed. In the morning you knew you would hate the decision, but until then, the mattress felt incredible. Amongst soft sheets that only wanted to soothe achy bodies, you snuggled in and found Donnie hadn’t been as close behind you as you thought. Searching for him reluctantly, you watched him trail up with something in his hands. Not huge, but an odd shape, he set it down with enough force that you couldn't help but get a good look at it.

He took his miniaturized tech gauntlet and placed it, like a visor, on the astronaut's helmet.

The toy was undoubtedly cursed, but the little guy had shown a higher aptitude for this sort of guard duty. Ruminating on his line of work, you let sleep take you as your partner collapsed by your side.

NEXT

You know my many merry holidays and thanks go out equally to my darling betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[adhd-games-and-me]

A long overdue UPDATE - Conversation with Anna Hollinrake

Hello all!

Firstly, I want to say it's been a while! A lot of stuff has happened since I started this, mainly the fact that I've recently moved house. Most. Stressful. Thing! Luckily we're in now and getting stuff settled.

Now that my excuse for why I've not updated in a while is out of the way, I'm delighted to have FINALLY had the chance to talk to the lovely Anna Hollinrake (link) about her experience of someone with ADHD in the industry! The transcript of the chat is below (or as best as I can do!) so please enjoy - it's very interesting to hear from her about her experiences and hopefully this will be one stepping stone to have chats with more people and go from there!

Anyhoo! Here's the chat!

Andy: Hi Anna - many thanks for chatting with us today! I'm going through the ADHD process at the moment and I'm looking to get some people together who are going through or have been through a similar process that I am going through. So the lovely Anna has joined us today. Can you tell us a little about yourself? How long have you been in the industry? How long have you had your diagnosis?

Anna: Thanks Andy! So yep I'm Anna, I've been working primarily in the games industry but games and animation for just over 8 years now. I studied Game Art and then went onto to do game art. I've jumped around subject matters, but main focus is concept art, but then art direction and then creative art director as I've gotten more into design as a focus. So lot's of variety there! I'm very interested into world design and all the processes that go with that! I've also done management and working with others in teams which I really enjoy too! As for the ADHD diagnosis, I had an inkling I might have ADHD back in 2018 and then proceeded to not do anything with that information for years largely because I was able to get by day to day. I didn't realise how much it was impacting things and inhibiting things.

And: Yeah, mine has sort of come into fruition in the past year or so and again I didn't really realise how much it impacted things. There's just little things you notice or other people notice and they go "Well, have you thought about getting an assessment or something" - it's a very interesting thing. I would have thought with reading stuff online that there is a massive sway towards it being more of a younger thing? There doesn't seem to be much information out there for adults. I'm not sure what your thoughts are on this?

Anna: 100% - I didn't get officially diagnosed until January this year after a years waiting list - also, what with COVID and living by myself and everything involved with that, I got to a point where I was like "I can't function right now"

Andy: This is very interesting! So I'm on a list currently and I'm like "thanks, you're on a list - now what" kind of situation - it's a very strange process and I'm at that stage where I'm like should I be doing more, what is there out there for me?

Anna: So I ended up calling up the line and asking if there had been any cancellations because I just wasn't functioning and things were getting pretty bad and luckily there was a cancellation so that was a lifeline pretty much - very grateful for that happening. It's been very interesting as I didn't know ANYTHING about it growing up - you'd get the 6 year old boy tearing things up and acting up all the time, and that was what you viewed it as,

Andy: 100% - there's a very strong picture built up in my opinion about what people thing ADHD people are - the restless, acting up all the time not paying attention person in the corner who doesn't listen and doesn't do what they're asked and it's not that at all. There are so many different paths and different types of ADHD that people don't even realise exist!

Anna: I don't think I necessarily would have asked for a referral if it hadn't been for meeting game developers who were really on it and have weird idiosyncrasies that I could relate to and it's odd that ADHD sort of just crept up on me and found me in a way. One of my best friends got diagnosed and then another friend and another and I just got more of the feeling that oh, maybe I should get this checked. It's weird that the people that I'm closest with and people from secondary school all have ADHD. I think it's the case of like sees like and yeah just really interesting.

Andy: I think that's a very valid point though and one I'm trying to get across here - ADHD isn't a bad thing, and some of the most creative minds I've met - not just in the games industry but wherever, have ADHD and embrace it and see it as a wonderful thing. You don't need to shy away from it and not think that there's something wrong with you - it can be a very toxic way to think sometimes, and I want to address that by doing things like this and having these chats and getting voices out there to say it's ok - look at us two and where we are!

Anna: I mean, the reason why I started talking about ADHD is that it seems that people with ADHD in the games industry are everywhere, and also, I'm kind of incapable of shutting up. A few years ago it seemed kind of a scary thing to talk about, especially in front of hundreds of people, but now I embrace it. I love making powerpoint presentations too so there's that! But yeah it felt very necessary to talk about things. If you take a look at the diversity census from this year and they changed the language around ADHD diagnosis because they acknowledge that getting a diagnosis is difficult. They changed it from you have a diagnosis to do you have a diagnosis or suspect that you have ADHD. If you're devouring ADHD content and you are resonating with a lot of things, statistically you are more than likely to have it. It's crazy - the number of people on the cencsus who put that they think they have ADHD rose from 3% in 2020 to 10% - and if that's covering the majority of the games industry - that's mad! I don't think it's just loads of people have been diagnosed I think it's the change of routine (especially with COVID) has made people think a lot differently.

Andy: Very interesting stuff there. So, another question then - being in the job that you're in, how has ADHD affected things? Be that in a positive way, a negative way, what's your take on things?

Anna: It has affected 100% - I think the majority of it is positive! I hate the phrase "ADHD as a superpower"

Andy: 100% agree - I think it puts you almost on a pedestal, and if something negative was to happen, it would be a very bad thing!

Anna: It feels like when you see that discussion happening, people don't see the other things going on outside of the positivity - the laundry pile next to another laundry pile, or the fact every saucepan has been used! Or the 25000 emails that are unread to the point where I've created a new email!

Andy: Agree wholeheartedly - It's all the little things in the background that they don't see that make you think "this isn't a superpower at all!

Anna: But yeah, in terms of how it has affected my career 100% for the better - I've been privileged to work on many different types of things and the fact that I've managed to do all these things is crazy and the fact that I've managed to do this with ADHD is awesome, especially when I was first diagnosed I kind of had a mind melt where I was like "what is me?" and went on a bit of a self-finding mission which was very interesting!

Andy: I think that's where I am at at the moment - I've had the initial assessment and filled out the paperwork - which is harrowing in itself right? Because there's the section that parents have to fill out and then they think it's something they've done wrong and you just get into this blame spiral almost and it shouldn't be like that at all - no one is to blame here! So I'm now in that 2 year wait where I can get on with my life, but now I'm like "OK, what do I do now" kind of thing - should I be doing more, what can I do to do more? etc. and I think that's where I'm kind of struggling with things a bit is the whole waiting game!

Anna: Absolutely - this is a lot of what my talk is about - It's called ‘ADHD City – Weird Things That Help for the Creative (but noisy) Brain (more info on Anna talking about this at Develop Brighton here) - it was very nerve racking talking about the different things and coping mechanisms - one of the weirdest one saying "I'm not doing it" over and over again whilst you're doing something you don't really want to do! - I think you have to have to be very careful to fall into these weird techniques - one of the hardest things for me is starting a project - Once I've started something there is absolutely nothing that makes me want to get up and go do something else or wander around, but getting to the point where I start that thing, that's the toughest part for me - but once I'm in I want to be there and I want to focus on it and nothing else

Andy: for me I'm one of those that gets easily distracted - so I play and collect Warhammer and wargames stuff - I got a new set and then a couple of weeks later I see a new shiny thing and go "oooh" and completely forget about the original thing - there's a correlation between that and the job I do - I'm grateful to be on many different projects all going off at the same time, but that doesn't help at all with my personal struggle of "sit down, get this thing done" - very frustrating at times!

Anna: I mean I've tried to start so many things - I would only finish things if I was trapped in a situation - I've learnt to harness this, but the times where I've gone "cool, let's start this" and then gone "oh I'm bored now let's do something else" - so frustrating! I think for a lot of people who are undiagnosed, they seem to have a lot of anxiety and that's what holds everything together and what stops things going wrong. I remember being at school and I'd forgot a book and the horror that I'd forgot this book after I'd put all these things in place, but once I'd realised that the "bad" thing of forgetting the book wasn't bad at all, it stopped being extreme and I remember seeing my history teacher later on after I'd left school and they mentioned they were talking about me and had my history folder and all these things and notes fell out - and I was like "yeah..." - I didn't ever structure things in a way that was at all useful, I just used to note things down because if I didn't I was afraid of the consequences and that's really interesting.

Andy: The whole trapping yourself in a situation I've never thought about before - it's a very interesting thing. With the place we work, the pressure and the fact there are deadlines weirdly helps us to focus - even if we are given a deadline in a couple of months time, the crunch focus part in the end two weeks or so is crazy and helps us to deal and cope with things being under that pressure and stress - it's very weird!

Anna: So that right there is 100% an ADHD thing - I mean, deadlines help a lot of people, but more pronounced for ADHD people - adrenaline is something that we live off of and crave, and that's why a lot of people with ADHD become paramedics or fire fighters because we make really good first responders as we act better under that immense pressure, but it's not a button that you want to push all the time because it has a cost and can exhaust us - I remember I went to an all girls school and there was this running joke that we were somehow all good at producing a vast amount of work in a very short deadline, but more than likely it was the fact that we all just a bunch of "gifted" children who are all just a little bit mentally strange and was just a hot bed for ADHJD traits I think. One of the things I talk about are short courses and short wins because I know I'm not going to be able to sit through a video tutorial that's x number of hours long - I can now that I've got medication and it's a lot better, but in terms of sitting down and following a video - unless it's three minutes long telling me exactly what to do - I'd rather mess around and do my own thing

Andy: yeah you mentioned Unreal - I've signed up to these mastering unreal courses that are 7/8 hours long - they're better as they're split into different chunks but still it's a lot for people to focus on who are easily distracted.

Anna: Yeah no... haha! But, going back to the medication thing I found fascinating - after going onto the medication I watched a half hour video and would make consistent notes and I could follow and I was absorbing it and I didn't feel overwhelmed - mind boggling! I was doing it days on end too! But generally before, not a chance!

Andy: I think people like short wins and things that give them a sense of completion - it's very interesting to hear how much the medication actually changed things and helped though, very interesting stuff! It's just really nice to chat about these things and hear a new opinion on Stuff! With that being said, in terms of support and outside the whole process, is there anything you've used or you think helped?

Anna: Absolutely! One of the key things, especially for adults who want to get more info on this kind of thing is ADHD UK (link) - I've spoken to Henry the founder and we spoke for a couple of hours about my talk - they also do free drop in zoom call sessions where you can chat and talk with ADHD experts and ask questions and there's other things that they do too! They're a fairly new charity but already they're doing some amazing stuff!

Andy: I think it's interesting that they've only been around a couple of years! ADHD in my eyes seems to have become more in the limelight in the past few years as we're learning more and more about it, whether that be due to the whole COVID environment and people wanting to discuss and talk more about things, but it's very cool to see more and more things popping up!

Anna: It has really blown up! The speed at which the visibility of ADHD has improved over the last three years is mad - it feels like a change is coming!

Andy: When I think back about us talking about ADHD being genetic and talking about parents and their generation - it seems lile a completely different mindset - it's like they blame themselves for how we are and that ADHD is a bad thing still

Anna: I guess I'm a little more used to it, especially self reflection and re-analysing stuff - I'd been turning things over in 2016 and then having the opportunities now to do these kind of things - you have to get used to turning things over - coming back to career stuff and the reason why I went into concept are it I hate exporting things - waiting for things to go from one thing to another to another - I'm just like no I don't want to do this - I could but I just don't have the patience.

Andy: For me this is my first games industry job - I've been software testing for the past 10-12 years - this is NOTHING like I did before - it's weirdly helping ADHD wise as I'm trying to restructure and re-learn my brain to do things that it probably could do, but getting my brain to rewire and learn things in a different way is actually really exciting. This has been super fun and an awesome chat Anna, and I just want to say a massive thankyou to you for jumping on! I'm hoping to get more people on and do more things like this!

Anna: Not a problem at all. It's great, and the fact that more and more people are aware of it, it feels necessary - I'm hoping to record an online version of my ADHD talk, and get more info out there. Obviously there are more things that get in the way. If I can recommend something, if you need to get things done, accountability is great, but if there is a threat of losing something then that can definitely help! I had this thing where I needed to get something done and I said to my friend (who also has ADHD) if I don't get this thing done I'll give you £15 - they were like "OK I'll up the stakes - if you don't get your task done I'm going to donate that £15 to the church of scientology" - cue me infuriated and start writing straight away - safe to say it worked! So those kind of things definitely help!

Andy: Haha genius! I can see how that can definitely help you focus and get stuff done - well thankyou once again Anna - I hope the talk goes really well, and hope to see an online version of it soon!

Anna: thanks for having me, and I hope we can catch up again soon!

Hope for some of you this has been super helpful, and let me know if you have had similar experiences and things yourself!

Thanks for reading all!

[buoyantsaturn]

no but for real have you ever done / said something and had another person be like "hang on a second, you noticed that about me?" and you can see in their face like how touched they are that you remembered something about them or picked up on something that they say or do a lot or maybe even kind of infrequently but it's unique enough to them that you're like yes of course you mean so much to me, how could I not know how important this is to you

[annebelle93]

Obey me boys react to an MC with a Th.D

You just finished your Th.D (Theology and religious studies Doctorate), younger of the class and now you’ve been struggling a bit to decide on what to write. Lucky you, you wake up in devildom, surrounded by all of the figures you’ve been reading about for the last years.

Lucifer

Is a bit impressed at first. You’re so young and already speak Latin? Maybe this exchange won’t be a total waste of time

Then he is annoyed

You just ask SO. MANY. QUESTIONS.

“MC, I swear to Diavolo, if you ask me one more time to teach you Sumeric I’ll lock you in your room!”

After you pester him over and over again with questions, he secretly asks Barbatos to find him a copy of your thesis

It’s about him. 300 pages of him.

The man is intrigued.

“Did you really spent three years writing about me?”

“Yeah, man” you shrug “the history f***ed you up. I always thought you were a much more complex character then described in the Bible”

He will teach you Sumeric now. And ancient Latin. And whatever dead language you ask him.

Honestly, he will marry you if you ask him nicely enough

Mammon

He doesn’t like you very much at first

Why do you use so many big words? It’s confusing

Very disappointed on how little you know about him compared to his brothers

“What do ya mean not enough lore?”

“I’ll show ya lore”

Lucifer may or may not have to “rescue” you from field trips to the fourth circle

Levi

Snake boy is flustered

You know him?

You actually like his stories?

You are i-i-interested in the g-great admiral?

“Why should I share my stories with a normie like you?”

Is very confused by you and he doesn’t like to be confused, so he keeps his distance

Until you slide a copy of an article you wrote about “Leviathan through cultures: similarities and idiosyncrasy”

You are a big obsessed nerd like him, only he likes video games and you books (don’t get me wrong, you like playing too, you just suck at it)

“I’m your Ruri-chan” he whispers after reading it

“Come with me! I’ll tell you every thing you need to know!” *anime pose*

Satan

HE. LOVES. YOU.

Finally someone who understands the beauty of spending hours reading in a library

At first was a bit bothered to always find someone else using the library

But you are very quiet when you concentrate

And you concentrate. For hours.

Very different from your overall hyper and impulsive behavior

Will happily explain to you all the inconsistencies in human literature

His memory is amazing, so he remembers every single event

Is very eager to explain why Satanás is far superior in literature and not at all the same character as Lucifer

“Why the humans always get it confused? It’s not that hard” procedes to give a very hard explanation

By the end of the program your research is so detailed and refined you can’t even publish it. No one will believe THAT level of details.

Asmo

Like Mammon, doesn’t like you at first.

Goes batshit crazy when you ask him why he doesn’t have three heads

“You appear one time to one human as an ugly beast after loosing a bet and then suddenly everyone thinks you are ugly!”

Demands you write at least one article proving to the humans he is beautiful

Will send you 7728372 selfies for you to use on the article

Likes to braid your hair and do your nails while you study, because “by Diavolo, you can be quiet when you focus!”

Is constantly worried about you because you don’t stop studying to drink water, eat or exercise

“Who is going to spread my beauty to the humans if you die?”

Secretly he just worries about you, nothing to do with spreading his beauty

Beel

Is VERY confused by you.

He didn’t ever remember he was once a god after he fell, how do you?

“What do you mean Mammon is seen as a part of me? Mammon is Mammon, I’m Beel”

Eventually he begins to enjoy listening to you talk about your research. You are very passionate about it and he enjoys when people like his brothers

Was upset when you reminded him about the god thing, because he recalled humans used to give him food offerings all of the time and now they don’t

You walk around with food on your pockets now

Belphie

Doesn’t like you. Doesn’t dislike you. You are just there.

Thinks you’re weird for writing 300 pages about Lucifer. Who would want to know that much about him?

Eventually he finds out you like to cuddle when you read in bed and “whatever, you are warm, I’m sleepy. I’ll indulge you”

He is like a big cat around your legs while you read

One day he peaks at what you are writing now

It’s about Lilith and how much of a power figure she is through history

You don’t see her as a fragile little girl

He will hide his face, he can’t let you see him emotional after all

But he’s is much more affectionate. He’ll even let you run your fingers through his hair now

Will tell you everything about his sister

And I mean EVERYTHING.

The rest of the boys are here now!

[screadingchallenge]

Behind the Keyboard-Volume 11

Behind the Keyboard is a series of interviews with different Schitt’s Creek fanfic authors. The series will last as long as there is interest (from authors) and capacity (from me). If you are an author from the Schitt’s Creek fandom who would like to participate, send a DM to this account.  

Each author was given ten questions. The first five questions are the same for every author, the last five will vary.

Remember, this year’s Reading Challenge begins July 15, so polish up those MFL lists.

Let’s meet our next author:

@likerealpeopledo-on-ao3​ /  Likerealpeopledo

How many fics have you written?

49 that are posted on Ao3 but I was writing fics before I knew what they were, so conservatively, probably closer to 200 or 300.

When did you publish your first fic on AO3?

July 13, 2014 in another fandom.

Describe your writing process from “Oh, I have an idea” to pushing publish on AO3. 

My writing process involves a lot of wailing, crying, and gnashing of teeth. But amongst that, once I have the premise, I usually start by deciding what my fic is really about. Not just plot (which is almost secondary) but what my theme is or what idea I’m trying to get across about the characters. I try to figure out POV, time period, canon vs AU, so I know what my foundation is. I brainstorm with my friends and betas as much as I can. Once I have all that in place, I make a playlist with songs/lyrics relating to my plot and theme. I listen to it while I’m driving mostly, because that is where I get a lot of my ideas. 

My favorite stage of preparing to write a fic is research. If the fic is something simple, like about how Patrick came to own his mustard sweater (seriously, where did he get that and why; please see my first SC fic for reference), I’ll watch the episode or read the script for a refresher. Or at least the piece that is pertinent to my fic. I rewatch episodes less now because I feel like I have the voice down but if I’m struggling to get something going, I will always go back to the source material.

If I’m writing a fic that is more complex (like about kidney donation or chronic pain), I watch documentaries, I read books, articles, wiki-everything. If I’m writing an enemies-to-lovers (current WIP), I try to read or watch things that have similar themes or tropes. Not to steal from them, but to see what I can subvert. I have this fic-writing idiosyncrasy where I like to feel like I’m doing something new, which I know is madness because I’m using someone else’s characters and there are like, four kinds of stories in the world, but. Alas.  

I write notes for every thought I have about the fic into my Notes app or a notebook. I sometimes outline, especially if it’s long, but usually I don’t outline until I have some ideas of scenes on paper. It’s a reverse outline, I guess, so I can see how I want to string things together.

If it’s a long fic, I do not write in order. It is my greatest strength and my biggest weakness I think. I write what excites me, what stands out in my head, snippets of conversations that I can cobble together to make a cohesive thing. It means that by the time I get toward the end of a draft, I’m left with the parts I think are boring, like exposition or transitions, and I spend a lot of time arranging and rearranging. Again, this has its advantages and disadvantages. With shorter pieces, I will sometimes write in order but even within scenes, I tend to write dialogue first and then flesh everything else out around it.

Sweet baby cheeses, my process is long and I’m not even done.

I usually write best in the morning. I do better without distractions but I can write anywhere. I write longhand when I get stuck. I try to write a little bit  every day but honestly, I write the most when I feel like I have something to say. Those are the times when paragraphs sort of pop into my head, or I can visualize an entire scene. (If I feel like I can’t hear what the characters are saying, I close my eyes. This leads to some impromptu writing naps.) Some days I’ll write 5000 words and others it will be 50. After nine p.m., I hate everything.

Once I have the first draft done (as if that is a swift process), I send it to my betas. I have two. One of my betas likes to see a whole draft before she makes suggestions and one will beta in pieces. (As I’m writing my first draft, I am constantly harassing both betas and sending them snippets. If I get stuck, I’ll turn to discord or my betas for brainstorming.) Once the first draft is betaed by both, I’ll put together my second draft (this is hilarious because the way I edit, I feel like the second draft I send to beta is realistically the 39th draft, but) and send it in chapters. That way they can make final edits and tweaks and I can begin to post. With a long fic, I like to be a few chapters ahead in edits before I post. With a short fic, I will send it to beta once, but not necessarily a second time, depending on how clear I was in my own head about what worked and what didn’t. Sometimes I’ll just resend a section if I had to make big changes or if it’s a new piece I added.

If I tell you about the nerves and insecurity I feel when posting, we will be here until the end of days, so just know, pushing send is a fraught thing lol.

Tell me about your most recent fic? What do you love about it? Is there anything you think you could have done better?

My most recent fic was Such Great Heights, which I called AirPat. It took me a long time to write it (almost two years) and I kept writing other things because I felt stuck. I’m not great at loving my writing, but I think that with AirPat, I really leaned into the banter and the humor, and I love that they were both all in from the beginning. I also loved that I was able to show a more complicated, complex side of the Brewers while still keeping them who they are, and write an original character in Patrick’s cousin, Sam. I love exploring Patrick’s psyche and I think I did a good job of making it make sense for him and his situation. It was a fight in my own head, let me tell you. I am also very proud of the wedding crash and if you haven’t read it yet, that chapter is worth the price of admission.

I always think I could have done better, but I don’t know that there is anything I would change at this point. I have probably already changed it, ha. I am not precious about words or scenes, usually, and have a tendency to edit pretty mercilessly. I will kill a lot of darlings in service of a story, and in AirPat, I took out a whole chapter midway through edits because I felt like the story was getting bloated. I felt so much better afterward. I am always wishing I had chosen better words or a new way to say someone smiled, but it’s nitpicky stuff, not structural.

What advice would you give to someone who’s thinking about publishing their fic for the first time?

Write what you want to read and don’t worry about what other people will think. Writing is supposed to be fun (I have to repeat this to myself often) and there is always someone out there who will identify with what you have to say. I would also recommend having a beta, because there is nothing like immediate feedback and someone who can help you make the best story you can, because no one can do this alone. Paid writers have editors so why shouldn’t we? Also, if your writing is true to the character, you can’t go wrong. 

How much of yourself do you put into your stories or characters?

Ugh, too much. I am writing David and Patrick, who have been invented by someone else and who are mostly fully formed already, but I steal liberally from my own life. Patrick, especially, is a blank slate I draw on with my own experiences. David is my more judgemental side. I think we all develop head canons based on our own experiences a bit, and sometimes that closeness helps, but sometimes it can hurt. 

What parts of writing are easy for you? What parts are hard?  

Dialogue is easiest for me. I think I had a lot of conversations with myself as a kid and that just carries on now. I think understanding emotionality and how we behave because of that is also a strength for me. I have always been good at balancing humor with tough things, and I credit my family and unfortunate Catholic upbringing for that, I guess. Putting myself out there is hard. Not getting engagement is hard. On a writing level, exposition is boring to me so it’s difficult. Also hard (pun intended), writing sex scenes. Bless the fade to black. I like writing kissing though. 

What’s a fic (by any author) you love that you don’t think enough people know about?

Ack! It’s hard to know what people know and don’t know, but I’d say that if you  haven’t read The Sidelines by wildhoneypie, or anything written by sullymygoodname or Nilolay, you’re missing out. 

Tell me about a story that you wish you could write but that you’re not quite ready to tackle.

I am always envious of people with 1100 WIPs because I barely have one idea at a time. I do have a few things I’ve considered but never dove into, and usually it’s because I think it’s going to be too complicated for my little brain. I have always wanted to write Patrick as a robot, which involves maybe more science-fiction elements than I’m entirely comfortable with and a ton of research. I have also always wanted to write a military AU (a lot of research required) but theme-wise I don’t know if it would fit in the SC world. 

What’s one question you would like to ask Dan Levy about writing? 

How do you make sure you keep enjoying it? Also, are you hiring? 

[softiem]

you used to paint his skies

pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x GN!Reader

overview: The one in which Bokuto swears up and down that he loves you, but the nagging feeling in your chest is too strong to ignore.

word count: ~3.9k

content warnings: cheating (PAIN), MSBY!Bokuto, I use like 9 swear words, you might cry depending on your mood, don’t let the fluff at the beginning deceive you, idek if this is good angst, no concrete happy ending ??? :c

notes: Happy (late) New Year !! This is my first time posting here, so sorry if this is hot garbage :P — btw TO ALL THE BOKUTO FAVES OUT THERE, I’M TRULY SORRY. I PROMISE I ADORE HIM WITH MY ENTIRE HEART AND SOUL !!! thank you for your time ٩(♡ε♡)۶

part two.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Bokuto Koutarou, the love of your life. You knew him like the back of your hand; you prided yourself in that fact, actually.

After four years of being able to call him yours, you thought you’d caught onto nearly all of his idiosyncrasies, the little quirks and peculiarities that made him so uniquely him. So uniquely yours.

You knew how he’d always pick out the cucumbers in a dish and plop them onto your plate — that cheeky smile of his adorning his face.

– – – – –

“Bokuto, this is ridiculous,” you sighed, watching as your boyfriend found another slice of cucumber and added it to the growing pile in the corner of your plate.

He stopped and stared at you like a child who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. You tried to fight back a smile seeing the top of his hair deflate ever so slightly.

“First of all, I’m not Bokuto to you. Second of all, baby, look!” He pointed to the small mound of vegetables on your plate. “I asked them for no cucumbers but what did they add? Cucumbers!” He seemed to deflate even further as he pouted at the offensive sight.

“Listen, Bokuto-”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Babe-”

“Better. Thank you, honey.”

Letting out a small giggle, you continued, “Listen, babe. Can you at least try one piece for me? Maybe you’ll realise that cucumbers don’t taste as bad as they did when you were younger.”

You caught the skeptical look he was giving you.

“How many?” you asked with a tiny smirk tugging at your lips. Bokuto seemed to perk up at your words.

“One cucumber for five kisses.”

“Boku- Babe, that’s ridiculous,” you laughed. “One kiss.”

“Six kisses.”

“You can’t make the number higher, Kou!”

“Fine, four.”

“Three.”

“Deal.”

– – – – –

You knew how he’d twiddle his fingers whenever he wanted to hold your hand but didn’t want to invade your personal space, especially if the two of you were in public or if you’d just had a rough day.

– – – – –

Bokuto walked right next to you, making sure you were on the inside of the sidewalk in an attempt not to lose you among the sea of passersby. He glanced down at your hands tucked into your jacket pockets, silently longing for their warmth. Moving his eyes back down to the ground in front of him, he began to absentmindedly pick at his fingers.

Your eyes caught the slight movement and you turned your head to where your boyfriend was walking right beside you. He had the smallest pout on his face as he continued to play with his hands.

A smile grew on your face and your eyes softened up at him.

“Hey.”

Bokuto jumped at the sound but looked to your smiling face as a similar grin brightened up his.

“Hi, baby.”

“You know, my hands are feeling awfully cold, even in my pockets,” you feigned a huff. “Can you help me, babe?” Bringing your hand out into the cold air, you opened it invitingly, wiggling your fingers.

His bright smile grew even bigger as he excitedly grasped onto you and stuck your intertwined hands into his pocket.

“Of course I can, baby!” He even went the extra mile and wrapped his scarf around your neck, patting your head once he was done.

– – – – –

You knew how much he liked going out for drinks with his teammates after their games, and sometimes, he’d ask you to tag along; you’d always agree, even though you weren’t big on drinking yourself (his puppy-dog eyes were truly lethal). Despite the fact that he could hold his alcohol quite well, he’d always stop at one or two drinks if you were out with him.

And you also knew that he absolutely treasured the feeling of being yours, just as you did with being his.

– – – – –

After a night of drinking with Bokuto’s teammates, you found yourself walking through the car park as he flanked your backside, his arms resting comfortably around your shoulders. Feeling a chilly breeze run across your skin, you shifted your body closer to Bokuto’s. He tightened his hug, pulling you closer into his chest.

“Y’know, Kou,” you spoke softly as the two of you approached his car — you felt the low rumble of his responding hum through his chest. “If you wanted to, you could’ve had a bit more to drink. I know you wanted to try out one of the new cocktails with Atsumu. We even agreed that I’d be driving-”

“Of course I know that, honey!” Bokuto cut you off with a small giggle and kissed the top of your head. “If I wanted to, I would. But I didn’t, did I?” His arms tightened as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“But, Boku-”

“No.”

“Babe,” you laughed, “I just want you to be able to have fun, okay? This is one of your last games of the season and I-”

Bokuto pulled you away from his embrace and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around to face him. He leaned into you, and with your noses nearly touching and your wide eyes meeting his sparkling ones, you understood his silent message.

“Stop worrying, I’m okay.”

Suddenly pulling away from him, you gasped for air, realising that you’d forgotten to breathe when he brought himself closer. You flushed, hearing his roaring laughter.

“Just get in the car, ya big lughead.” Walking to the passenger side of the car, you opened the door for Bokuto to climb in and put his seat belt on for him. He was still laughing, but it ceased after he heard the latter half of what you said.

“What do you mean ‘lughead’?” He pouted as you slid into the driver’s seat, having to adjust the chair as you grumbled about how he was too big for his own good. “I thought I was your babe, your Kou. Remember?”

“Yes, babe. You are my boy, my dovey, my Koutarou.” You turned to him, placing a hand on the side of his face as your thumb lightly stroked his cheek. Leaning in, your lips met his in a small kiss. “And forever will be,” you whispered against his lips.

He brought you into another kiss, deeper this time, pulling away only to pepper little pecks across your cheeks as you giggled into him.

“And you,” he began, planting a big kiss on your forehead, “are my honey, my lovey, my angel.” He sighed contentedly, squishing your face between his hands. “My perfect, pretty baby.”

– – – – –

Bokuto Koutarou, the love of your life. You knew him like the back of your hand.

So how had it come to this point?

The two of you were currently locked in a tense silence. The argument you were having only minutes ago was still ringing in your ears. Bokuto’s eyes glared down at you as his nostrils flared with barely restrained frustration.

You sighed in exhaustion.

“Kou, all I’m asking is for you to take a break.” You tried to ignore the way his hands curled up into fists from where his arms were crossed. “I know this next game means a lot to you, but can’t you see that you’re working yourself to the bone? You’re exhausted, babe. One break for you is all I want. Please just listen to me this one time.”

You began to take a step toward him, but your efforts were quickly squashed upon seeing a deep scowl take shape on his face.

Bokuto scoffed.

“If you know how much it means to me, then you’d know how I need to practice to make sure that my team wins.”

“Yes, I know that, but you just look so tired nowadays, and I’m worried, Kou. I know you, and right now, what you need is a break so that-”

“Then clearly you know jack shit about me!”

Hearing his outburst, you stumbled back slightly and pulled your hands up to your chest as you felt them begin to tremble.

“Every fucking day, I work and I practice just so that we can keep living happily and my team can keep winning.” He began to stalk toward your cowering figure. “If you know me so fucking well, then you’d know that what I don’t need right now is you coddling me, breathing down my goddamn neck, and telling me what to do with myself.”

Bokuto’s hands were clenched at his sides as he glared holes into your skull. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, afraid of what you’d be met with, who you’d be met with.

This wasn’t your Koutarou.

Your sweet, loving, doting Koutarou who would always remember to give you a morning kiss before he left for practice. Your Koutarou who shoveled cream and sugar into his morning coffee because he couldn’t stand the bitterness of black coffee (“It’s like drinking rat poison!” he’d once told you). Your Koutarou who would try his very best to cut up fruit into little shapes for you whenever you weren’t feeling well. Your Koutarou who, when he found you in the stands at his games, would reach a hand up to his face, his thumb touching the tip of his nose, and wiggle the rest of his fingers with the biggest grin on his face — his good luck salute.

The man in front of you was not him.

You tried to look everywhere but his towering figure, your eyes beginning to sting as your vision grew blurry.

“Dovey, I’m s-sorry,” you shakily whispered, “I just w-want what’s best f-for you-”

“Don’t pull that shit right now. If you want what’s best for me, you’d know when to back off.”

Your breathing grew heavier as you watched Bokuto turn away from you, moving closer to the front door.

“D-Dovey-”

“You know what? I’m tired of this.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out. Away from you.”

“But it’s cold! A-And you need to rest for tomorrow’s practice!”

“I need fucking space.” He shoved his arms into a thin jacket, shoving his keys and phone into pocket before forcefully pulling the door open. 

“Koutarou, please!”

The resonant slam that echoed in your home opened the floodgates. Your throat squeezed in pain as you tried to hold in an onslaught of sobs. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried to keep your feet steady as you curled in on yourself. Salty tears rolled down your cheeks while Bokuto’s words ran through your head.

“Then clearly you know jack shit about me!”

“I’m tired of this.”

“I need fucking space.”

As your sobs abated into small hiccups and your vision became less blurry with tears, you were able to shakily pick yourself up off the floor and walk to one of the front windows. Looking out into the dark night, you noticed that Bokuto’s car was nowhere to be seen in the driveway. Your heart seemed to clench again, and you gnawed on your lip to force down another sob urging its way up your throat.

Slowly, you made your way to your shared bedroom and fell face first into Bokuto’s side of the bed. Inhaling the scent in his pillow, you pulled it closer to you.  The prickling feeling in the corner of your eyes was growing familiar.

In the silence of the night, you were left with your thoughts rampaging through your mind and the moonlight shyly peeking through the curtains.

You didn’t understand. When had it all gone to shit? The two of you seemed fine just yesterday; Bokuto had woken up before you and smothered your face in kisses so that the two of you could get up together.

But recently, you’ve come to notice how there was an underlying tiredness in your boyfriend’s eyes. He constantly complained of muscle aches and soreness and how the team’s practices kept running longer than usual.

That was when you decided to step in and tell him to take a break for the sake of his team and, more importantly, his health. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t seem to take too well to your “coddling,” and that was what brought you to your current situation.

Stray tears leaked out of your eyes as you thought back to the argument. Where did he go? Did he have somewhere safe to stay? Would he even come back? Did he really think you coddled him? Was he finally tired of you, of your relationship? Was this the end?

You tried to shake the thoughts from your mind, telling yourself, “No, no! He still loves you.” But your mind was unrelenting, picturing too many scenarios of how he could be happier without you worrying about him every hour of every day.

Briefly, you thought about calling him to make sure that he was safe but decided against it. What if he thought you were still trying to “coddle” him? What if he thought you were too suffocating? 

You didn’t sleep well that night.

– – – – –

The next morning, the crushing realisation that Bokuto hadn’t come home last night fell on top of you as you felt the empty bed. In a slight panic, you reached out for your phone on the nightstand and dialed his number.

One time, no answer. Two times, no answer. On your third try, you sighed in relief, gratefully hearing the click of the other end.

“Oh thank goodness, Kou.” You stumbled out of bed as you made your way into the bathroom. “Where are you right now? Are you safe? Who’re you staying with? Do you need me to come-”

“I’m sorry who is this?” an unfamiliar voice interrupted you. The person on the other end seemed like they had just woken up from their hoarse tone.

You stilled as a tremor started crawling up your spine, but you willed it down. No, he would never! He loves you!

“Hello?”

Taking a deep breath, you responded, “Oh uh, Bokuto’s my boyfriend.” You gave a weak laugh. “Are you a friend of his? Can you tell him something for me once he wakes up?”

There was rustling on the other end of the call as the person seemed to be getting out of bed.

“Hun, I’m so sorry.” Their voice was quieter this time. Your brows furrowed in confusion hearing their sudden apology. “I had no idea he was taken. I’m so sorry.”

Your blood ran cold. Biting your lip, you racked your brain for any possible explanation for what was going on. The heat behind your eyes from last night was coming back, and you could feel the pounding of your heart in your throat.

So he actually did it, huh?

“O-Oh.” The only thing you could mutter was a pitiful whimper.

“I’m so so sorry, hun. If I had known, I would’ve ripped him a new one right at the bar. I can’t imagine-”

“It’s not your fault.” Your voice was small, shaky. “You didn’t know. This is on him.”

“I… I know, but I just-”

“When he wakes up, can you tell him something for me?”

In any other circumstance, you would have felt guilty for interrupting so many times, but at the moment, you could barely even keep yourself standing. Your chest squeezed as your fingers dug into the phone.

“Yes, absolutely. Whatever you want.”

“Can you tell him to come home soon, please?”

“O-Of course. Yeah, I can do that.” Confusion was evident in their voice. They’d probably expected you to tell Bokuto that it was over, not ask for him to come home.

“Thank you.”

You hung up before they could even respond.

With a wobbly breath, you set your phone down on the bed and walked into the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was messy. Your eyes were swollen and red with bags lining the bottom lids. Your lips were slightly bleeding and looked as if they were chewed raw.

You couldn’t bring yourself to keep scrutinising as violent sobs rose from your throat. Gripping the bathroom counter for dear life, your teeth clenched in a poor attempt to keep your cries at bay. Tears dripped into the sink as you cried harder, the sounds of your lament echoing within the small room.

Once again, you forced yourself to hold in the rest of your tears, splashing cold water on your face as your mind drifted to your next course of actions.

You noticed your phone buzzing repeatedly when you walked back into the bedroom. Ignoring it, you set out to pack a few bags with some of your things despite not knowing where you’d be going after this. All you knew was that you needed to leave.

The buzzing of your phone didn’t stop as you were bombarded with notifications, all from the one person you wanted to talk to least in the world right now.

8 missed calls from “🦉my dovey💕”

Against your better interest, you unlocked your phone and opened the first voicemail.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry,” Bokuto’s voice was shaky as you heard the slam of a car door and the familiar rev of an engine in the background. “I fucked up. I know, baby. Just... I need you to call me back. Please, baby?”

After the tell-tale click signalling the end of the voicemail, you opened the second one.

“Baby, please! I’m so sorry for hurting you like this.” He sniffled. “I just need to know that you’re still at home, our home, baby. Please just call me and tell me that.”

The third one.

“Please, lovey, just tell me that you’re safe!” You noticed the faint sounds of the car running. “I’m on my way home right now. Okay, honey? Please be home, I’m begging you.”

The fourth.

“My lovey, my angel. I’m so sorry.” He seemed to choke on a sob. “You’re scaring me. I need to know that you’re okay. Just give me a call, a text, anything! I just need to know that you’re home.”

The bang of the front door opening stopped you from listening to the rest of Bokuto’s voicemails. You hadn’t noticed how hard your hands were shaking until you dropped your phone onto the mattress again. The tears rolling down your face only increased as you realised that you would have to face him.

“Baby?!” Bokuto’s panicked voice was hoarse — you could only imagine what happened for it to get that way. “Baby, please tell me you’re home! Please!”

You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, but it seemed to do nothing as you heard the rushed stomping of his footsteps nearing the bedroom.

Bokuto flung the door open and immediately pulled you into a tight embrace with a breath of relief. He smelled of day-old sweat, alcohol, and the faint scent of vanilla and citrus — a scent that neither you nor him used. It was suffocating.

“Thank God you’re still here, baby.” His rough, calloused hand stroked the back of your head. “I was so scared you were gone.” You felt something drip onto your head, and you realised that he was crying.

He only tightened his embrace when you tried to pull away. His whispers of “No, no, please. Please don’t leave,” squeezed your heart.

You pulled your arms out from between the two of you and brought your hands up to his face, wiping his tears away.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen,” he whispered against your hands. You closed your eyes for a second, unsuccessfully trying to ignore the light bruises decorating his neck as your heart ached.

“How long?” Staring into his eyes, you saw the glassiness from his tears returning. Bokuto shook his head — Don’t make me remember. Your breath hitched from the way he leaned in to try and kiss you. Moving your head, he landed a peck on your cheekbone instead. He let out a sharp whimper.

“How. Long?” you ground out between clenched teeth.

He bit his lip, looking everywhere but your face.

“It was just this one time, I promise,” he murmured, “I won’t make this mistake again, baby.” As he spoke, his arms tightened around you, as he nuzzled his head into the nape of your neck.

“I know you won’t, Kou,” your voice was quiet as you spoke, trying to break the news gently, “because I’m leaving.”

You felt the way his body stiffened, and then he pulled you impossibly closer as his heaving cries began to rack his body.

“No! Baby, p-please! I’m sorry, I said I’m s-sorry!” He shook his head repeatedly, his tears running down your shoulder. “You can’t leave me! You can’t!”

You bit your lip, trying not to cry at his whimpers.

“I’m sorry, Kou.” Reaching up, you ran your fingers through his messy hair.

“Is this because,” he held back a sob, “Is this because I said that I wanted space? Because I was lying, honey! I never wanted space from you! I was lying! Angel, please don’t leave me.”

You tried to pull away from him again, and this time, he let you. His mouth was curled down, and his eyes were red, still shedding tears.

“I don’t know if I can trust you anymore, Bokuto.” His breathing stopped, hearing that name escape your lips. He stood frozen, his eyes stared down into the floor as his tears dropped into little puddles below. With that, you took your bags and phone from the bed and walked toward the front door.

You made it into the living room before you heard his hurried stumbles behind you.

“NO! NO! YOU CAN’T CALL ME THAT!” he screamed. Skidding to a stop in front of you, he dropped to his knees, holding onto your waist in a death grip. “PLEASE! PLEASE, BABY!”

Snot was running down his reddened nose and mixed in with his tears. His eyes held a sort of agony that was heart-wrenching to stare into. You willed yourself to stay calm as your nose began to sting once again.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto, but I have to go-”

“NO!” He pulled your bags out of your hands and threw them to the side. Taking your hands, he placed them on his cheeks.

“Bokuto, what are you doing?!” You tried to pull away from him, but his grip wouldn’t let you. “I already told you, I’m leav-”

“Look at me!” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Look at me, please. It’s me. It’s your boy. I’m your boy. I’m your Koutarou.” His hands cupped your cheeks as his thumbs brushed away your tears. “And you’re my honey, my lovey, my angel. You’re my baby.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond — your face crumpled in pain, in heartbreak, in anguish as you thought back to what started this entire situation. Bokuto bit his lip; seeing you in so much pain because of him ripped him apart inside.

His lips parted again to continue.

“You’re my baby. I love you so so much. To the moon and back. I fucked up bad. I know, angel. But I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise you that.”

He stood up from his spot on the floor, still cupping your cheeks. A light kiss was placed on your lips as his forehead touched yours, both of your cheeks stained with tears.

“Just please don’t make me lose you like this.”

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