#not to be sewer side all on main but like..

[hintsofhoney]

Ladies With Experience

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?

Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader

Word Count: 5k

A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”

You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.

“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.” 

And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table. 

The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you. 

Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.

Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.

“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.

Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans. 

“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”

“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”

You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.

Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel. 

You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.

“I’ll get her,” Dean said. 

Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside. 

You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat. 

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.

“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you. 

The question caught you off guard.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”

“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”

He replied with a knowing look.

You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.

But not this . You couldn’t tell him this. 

You shook your head. 

“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.

“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever . 

His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long. 

“Was it something I said?” he prodded. 

You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation. 

He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.

“Do I at least get a hint?”

“Dean, I —”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”

Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been. 

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”

You didn’t respond.

He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it. 

Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish. 

“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?” 

You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.

“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”

“Romantic,” you quipped.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”

You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you croaked.

“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”

“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them. 

“Of whatever you want.”

“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart. 

You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“No, that’s not what I —”

You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.

“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”

Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”

“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—” 

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”

He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”

“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point. 

“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”

“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”

You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.

“Why do you know that?”

God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”

“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”

Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too. 

“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly. 

Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”

His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”

“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”

“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core. 

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”

“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him. 

“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.

“Telling Sammy to beat it.”

Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”

He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”

“Why not!?”

“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it. 

“Oh my God,” you began.

“Shut up.”

“You did not just say that.”

“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”

“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased. 

“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.

You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money. 

Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision. 

You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead. 

“Ladies first.”

“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”

He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.

“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.

He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.

“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.

“Promise.”

“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.

“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.

You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.

You tilted your head in question.

“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”

“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid. 

He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —

“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on. 

You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”

He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.

“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”

“And how’s that?”

He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.

“Like the fucking brat you are.”

You almost came from that alone. 

Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys  in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place. 

“Do your worst.”

It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked. 

When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”

You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”

“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”

“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”

“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”

“Put me in my place,” you repeated.

“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”

Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.” 

You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core. 

Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this . 

He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.

“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early. 

“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.

You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening. 

“Hold it,” he ordered.

Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.

“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.

“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”

You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then — 

He stopped.

He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.

You whined.

He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it. 

“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”

You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.

“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you. 

You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.” 

His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you. 

He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.

“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.

“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”

“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”

He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”

Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.

He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him. 

“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.

“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.

He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it. 

“Dean,” you breathed.

“Hm?”

“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.

You decided you liked “baby” better. 

“Please.”

“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”

You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”

His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said. 

“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his. 

You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around. 

“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”

You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.

“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.

“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?” 

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?” 

His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Hm. But not this time, right?”

“Y/N —” he warned.

“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”

For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.

“Color?” he questioned roughly.

“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.

Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits. 

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind. 

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more. 

“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter. 

“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily. 

He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out. 

“Good?” he asked.

“So fucking good.”

When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out. 

“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”

He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame. 

“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —

“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”

And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.

“More than,” you smiled.

He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —

“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”

He snorted. “They’re half right.”

“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”

He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”

You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”

“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”

“It was perfect, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”

[zepskies]

I couldn't find if you're taking requests or not at the moment— so I'm sorry if you aren't!!! But I've been YEARNING for how Dean would react if you just blurted out, "Do you love me?" One day (after dating for a year or so)... ty! 💕

Hey, hun! What a lovely little prompt. (My requests are currently closed, but you made the cut-off lol.)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 650 Tags/Warnings: Fluff. That is all.

Imagine: You ask Dean for the truth.

It was a rough hunt. Shapeshifters were not your favorite, and chasing one through a city sewer left you with plenty of bumps and bruises and shallow cuts (along with a couple that weren’t so shallow).

Back at the bunker, Dean tended to them now with calloused hands that were still somehow gentle. You sat across from him in his room—the room you shared with him, sitting on the edge of the bed you’d also shared with him for almost a year.

You watched him work methodically, with his brows knit together and eyes narrowed in concentration. His mouth was set in a plush line. You wanted to kiss the serious out of him.

But you also had to wonder.

For how gentle he was with you, how tender he could be with his affections, how seriously he seemed to take the role of your protector, your confidante, and so much more…

“Dean,” you said. Your voice was quiet, but he heard you loud and clear in the near silent room.

His gaze flicked up to yours. He was in the middle of stitching the smallest cut on your side. The deeper ones were over with, but you were still helping him by keeping your shirt lifted up.

“Hm?” he responded.

You bit your lip. You couldn’t help it. Your words came from the deepest place inside yourself.

“Do you love me?” you blurted.

In all this time, he’d never said it.

Dean seemed to realize that when he blinked wider eyes at you. His hands that either rested against your side or held the needle and thread stilled.

Then he cleared his throat, his head tilting slightly. His mouth and jaw worked, and his brows furrowed.

“Uh…” he said eloquently.

You bit your lip again as your heart started to sink. You looked away.

“It’s okay…sorry, you don’t have to…” you tried to say.

You didn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes softened. If his hands weren’t full, he’d be carding a hand through his hair.

Briefly he closed his eyes, letting out a subtle breath.

“Sweetheart,” he said. When you still didn’t want to look at him, he prodded you again, tapping your side where he held you. “Hey.”

Your eyes traveled back up to his. He cleared his throat again.

But he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah. ‘Course, I do,” he said. His voice was deep and rumbling. It washed over you, made you brighten.

“Then…do you mind saying it right?” you asked. A more mischievous smile greeted him.

Despite his mild discomfort, he had to smile back, with an amused shake of his head. He gestured to his half-done stitch.

“Can this wait? I’m a little busy here,” he said.

You shook your head. Your free hand touched his cheek, letting your thumb caress across prickly stubble.

“No, it really can’t,” you said, with “apologetic” eyes.

Dean blew out another breath. He rubbed your thigh over your jeans and squeezed in affection. His eyes met yours.

“I uh... I love you,” he said.

Part of him wavered inside with nervous energy. Not because he was afraid of what you might not say, but because those words were a risk for him. In more ways than one.

You took his hand from your thigh, moving past his blood-stained fingertips to press a kiss into his palm.

“Good. Because I do too,” you replied.

Dean’s lips edged into a smirk, even with the warmth in his eyes.

“Now who’s not sayin’ it right?”

You laughed a little and nodded. You leaned in towards him, but you stopped just shy of his smiling lips.

“I love you, Dean.”

AN: 🥹 Let me know if you liked this one! Short and sweet. ❤️

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[miiukkaa]

raph's subway room 🧸

personally speaking, raph is both an easy and a difficult character to understand. he has grown up with the responsibilty of having to look after his younger brothers. he definitely can be rowdy, playful, goofy and irresponsible but there's a sense of responsibility that he carries and holds onto. i mention this only because i feel this shows in him wanting to let his brothers have things over himself (things like furniture, trinkets, food... just stuff in general). not in a dramatic way in which he'd sacrifice EVEYRYTHING for the sake of others and thus neglect his own needs, no, no, it's not black and white like that. this would simply mean that he owns less furniture/trinkets/things than what you'd imagine. a mindful guy looking out for those he loves (let us not forget that he looks after himself, too).

i gave the big guy a big bed which is supported by the subway car's seats opposite to one another as well as cinder blocks. again, very little space underneath the bed. there're a few teddybears by the foot of the bed (note that the mattress isn't as wide as the car so the bears are just sitting on the seat).

raph is a RnB fan and has shown to own a collection of vinyl records. i was feeling generous so i gave him a vinyl record player with an amp right next to his bed.

while i could have moved his DIY bench press in the car, i rather it stayed outside of the car as seen in the movie. he would probably still have some weights stored in his room (he could easily use smaller weights in his room, too - i feel there's enough room for that).

opposite to the main entrance, he'd have a clothing line to hang some of his clothes. oh, and the door on the right side? that's just half-open. i'm not sure if raph himself would fit through a half-opened door but i like to imagine it's more of a window to him anyway. (from the bed he would lean a little to squint what's happening outside before shouting "hey, what's the commotion about!?" or something).

posters! first we have ghostbear's poster which we have seen in raph's sewer room. i feel he would have ripped the poster off of the wall after feeling betrayed by the wrestler but then later taped it back up after having calmed down and feeling remorseful. he still does admire the sport and ghostbear after all. complicated feelings.

a new lou jitsu poster in which our favorite rat man is simply just posing for the fans. speaking of the rat man, i'd like to think he helped raph write down the famous japanese quote from the show: 「あなたは一人じゃない」 translated to "you're not alone". i mean, if i were raph, i'd want to write the quote down... ESPECIALLY since he doesn't know the language and it's easy to forget for that reason. it's like splinter signed his poster for his son in a way :)

the mad dogs flag looks like it was bought rather than self-made... so i doubt they would have bought just one for leo. i mean "mad dogs" is their thing so you gotta get all the siblings involved kind of like a shared tattoo!!

then a silly little drawing by mikey in which he drew raph flexing :)

and speaking of mikey! there's some graffiti art by him! both of them are near identical to the ones seen in raph's sewer room but... one of them just says "boss!" and the other is just flames.

a very simple room design but i feel it's just enough for raph :]

leo's room

mikey's room

[twignotstick]

Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

Part 3 💜 | Part 1 <- 🧡 | Part 2 <- 💙

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I wrote this as my love letter to the story and the characters. Especially April :)

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Donnie & April, April & the Turtles, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, recovery (hehehehehe), talking it out because we're adults, skating, social avoidance? idk how to tag that

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): yelling, some violent actions

Words: 2,065

Summary: April was able to figure out her first brother easily. Now, she gets three more, with a couple more issues to worry about.

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

One brother was already a lot. He was sweet, if a little violent. April was content with one brother.

Then she found out he had two more. Lost in their youth, taken away, never to be seen again. Suddenly, one wasn't enough. April wanted three brothers.

So she got them. One by one, she welcomed her new brothers into their home. She helped them feel safe and welcomed. And, in turn, they helped her learn her place as a big sister.

Now, four? Four whole brothers? That was pushing it.

Donnie was a wild card. Some days, he'd bounce around madly, blabbering about whatever “improvements” he'd made in the lair (always putting Splinter on edge, yet he could never find any problems with whatever Donnie did, probably because his brothers did damage control before he could catch it). Other days, he'd literally hiss at April until she left. Not just left the lair; left the sewers.

This day was supposed to be one of those days. Donnie was visibly shaking with all the pent up energy in him. The brothers had apparently had an “intervention” with Donnie after the previous night, when he had almost broken a major support beam in the lair just so he could collapse it on April. Now, he wasn't allowed to show violence to April in any form for a whole week. In exchange, he'd be allowed to take a single blood sample from each of his brothers, which was the weirdest trade April had ever heard. But Donnie really wanted it.

And boy, was it hard for him.

“Did you see that?! Did you see? I totally landed that one!” Mikey yelped, shaking on his skateboard.

“Good job, big man.” Raph stepped up beside him, lightly touching Mikey's shoulder and making his eyes widen as he tried to maintain his balance.

Mikey had been wanting to practice his skate tricks, and Raph wanted to make sure he did it in a safe environment. The skate ramp in the lair was perfect. Even if they were just practicing kickflips at the bottom, it was safe and contributed to good vibes.

While Raph and Mikey stood at the bottom, April, Leo, and Donnie sat at the top with their legs dangling beneath them. Well, April and Leo's legs were dangling. Donnie was perched up like a frog, knees thrown out to the sides and his hands curled on the edge of the ramp. Leo, of course, was between him and his self proclaimed mortal enemy, absorbing as much murderous intent as he could. It was a lot, to put it nicely.

“Do you think he'll ever actually get to use the ramp?” Leo asked, enjoying the spectacle of his youngest brother getting properly babied by his oldest.

“Four is definitely tough enough to survive a fall from this height,” Donnie responded cheerily. “His shell is the best of all of us. A human, on the other hand, would likely get severely injured if they were to be shoved off the edge.” His face grew the slightest grin at the imaginary violence.

“Watch the language.” Leo raised a brow to Donnie. “And it's Mikey, remember? Not Four.”

“R-right!” Donnie stammered, patting his hands on the side of the ramp. “Four is Mikey.”

“No, Mikey is Mikey. His name isn't Four, and it never was. Just like my name isn't Two, Raph's name isn't One, and your name isn't Three. You're our brother. Donatello.”

Leo was getting slightly agitated, and Donnie- or maybe Three- was starting to fidget and rock back and forth. It was clear that Leo wanted Donnie to just give up all this number talk and act like their childhoods hadn't happened. But that was just an impossible task. April could tell that this situation would be quick to spiral.

“Hey, uh, Leo?” April asked, getting his attention.

“Yes?”

“Betcha can't do an ollie.”

Leo turned fully to face April. “A what?”

“I-it's a skateboard trick…” Donnie said, causing Leo's attention to whip around again. “F- Mikey showed me a couple days ago.”

“Oh.” Leo's brow ridges tightened as he whipped back to face April. “You think I can't pull some stupid skate trick? You are so on.” Leo slid down the ramp, using his carapace like a sled. “Mikey! Give me your board!”

Donnie watched him slide down with wide eyes. “Has he… ever skated before?” He asked, mildly concerned.

“Nope. Never even touched a board.” April smirked. “He's gonna be stuck down there for at least an hour.” She looked over at Donnie, who was gazing down at his brothers with a lost glaze over his eyes.

“You wanna go join them, Donnie?”

The softshell's neck popped as he snapped to glare at April. The murderous intent that had been building suddenly channeled into his face, and he growled before standing up and stomping away swiftly toward his recently decorated room.

April glanced down at the three brothers having fun, then pushed herself up to follow the one who wasn't.

“Wait, Donnie! What's wrong? I-”

“Stop.” The turtle hissed, not turning around to face her.

“Stop? Donnie, what did I-”

“I SAID STOP IT! STOP CALLING ME THAT!” He pressed the heels of his hands into the sides of his head.

“What do you mean? Just tell me what's-”

The turtle turned on his heel in the doorframe. “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I don't know how to put it in a way your STUPID HUMAN BRAIN WILL UNDERSTAND!” His face morphed into a manic grin. “Goodbye! So long! Sayonara! Toodaloo! GET OUT OF MY FACE!”

The door slammed shut, and April was left breathless.

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

April came back the next day to a much quieter lair. The boys were keeping space from each other, whether consciously or not. Raph was wandering around, trying to act like everything was okay. Leo was training in the dojo. Mikey was spending more time around Splinter than he usually did.

The final brother was still locked in his room.

April decided to join Mikey to bring him his second meal of the day. The first one, a small plate of rice, was still outside the door, now cold and dry.

Mikey knocked lightly, barely tapping the door with his knuckles. “Donnie?” He whispered. “I've got more food for you. It's your favorite- flavorless mush! I tested it myself, no taste at all. I promise!”

The offer was met with silence.

Mikey sighed and let his shoulders slump, backing away from the door. “I just don't get it,” he muttered pathetically. “He hasn't even come out to pee, April. Do you think he's just peeing in a cup? Or a corner? Does Donnie have a pee corner that we don't know about?”

“Mikey, it's okay.” April grabbed his shoulder. “First of all, yes, he probably does, and that just means we get to bond over cleaning his room when this is over. Second, you shouldn't have to worry about this.”

“I'm so sorry, April.” Mikey looked down to his feet. “I don't know why he hates you so much. Maybe if we hadn't-”

“Don't apologize,” April interrupted. “If anyone needs to apologize, it's me.”

Mikey looked back up at his big sister with wide eyes. “Why?”

She sighed. “Because I did something wrong.” April took the food from Mikey's hands. “I'll get him to eat. I'll text you if things go super wrong, but otherwise, ignore any loud noises. I have a feeling this might get… violent.”

Mikey puffed his chest. “Roger, roger!” He saluted and rushed down the hall, supposedly to find Raph and warn him of April's plan before he could start panicking.

April stood next to the door. “Hey, bud,” she started. “It's April. I've got your food, and I'm not gonna leave until you let me in to give it to you.”

After about two minutes of just standing there and getting no response, April sat down. She would say something every few minutes, just to remind him she was still there.

48 minutes later, the lock clicked.

April opened the door slowly. Glancing around the room, she could see the state of disarray it was in. Clothes carpeted the floor, as well as abandoned scrap projects. The turtle was cloaked beneath blankets on his bed, only his bright eyes glaring out at the invader.

She left the door open and stood to the side, getting just close enough. She didn't want him to feel threatened or trapped. She placed the (well cold by now) food next to the growling blanket pile and backed away. Waiting a second, just until he proved he would actually start eating, she spoke.

“Why don't you want me to call you Donnie?”

The pile shifted. “You just… you just can't.”

“Why not?”

“...because Splinter gave me that name. It's my name as his son. As Raph, Leo, and Mikey's brother. Not yours.”

April was about to pose a question, but the softshell suddenly sat up and started showing his anger. In the action, he also revealed the red marks growing on his arms from squeezing them.

“Because I don't care how much time you spend around us. I don't care how much One likes you, or how much Four draws you, or how much stupid stuff you watch with Two! You aren't related to me. It's scientifically impossible. We don't share any genetic material. You aren't my brother!”

With frazzled eyes, he turned and grabbed April's collar, bringing the two face to face.

“And you are most definitely not my sister.”

He shoved April away and sulked back in his den. The girl decided to take the violent outburst as an invitation to get closer, and sat on the edge of the bed.

“...that's okay.”

She only got a sniff in response.

“I don't need to be your sister. Or your brother. All I want is to be your friend. And if that means I call you something else, that's okay. Just tell me what you want me to call you, and I'll do it. Maybe I can call you Purple like Splints has been. Or I'll call you Three, if you really want me to.”

The turtle, Donnie to some, showed his face, keeping the blankets wrapped around his shoulders. His fingers were digging into his upper arms.

“And I know you might not like me, but I'm not going anywhere. Your brothers like me, and they'll be upset if I go away.” When she saw the softshell's grip tighten, she quickly added, “And I know that if they had to choose, they'd pick you. But they don't have to. They don't want to.”

The turtle stared aimlessly in front of him. “...I don't… I…”

“I can just not call you anything if you can't decide. Y'know, just call you ‘dude’ and stuff.”

His shoulders lifted higher, touching the sides of his chin. “That… that works…”

April smiled wide. “Great.”

The two sat there, just accepting each other's company. Donnie's tight posture slowly loosened, and April focused on making sure his breathing was even.

This poor boy had never known true family. He had never known learning to trust people and taking them in. He had never been taken in. This concept, choosing family, was so foreign. Because to him, family wasn't something you could choose.

April would never allow that. Never again.

“...sooo, do you have a pee corner?”

“What?!”

April held her hands up defensively. “Mikey said you haven't come out to pee! I just wanted to know if you had a pee corner!”

“No?! Why would you automatically assume I have a pee corner?”

“Because you haven't come out of your room to pee! What, do you have a pee cup instead?!”

“No!”

“Then what have you been doing?!”

Donnie pointed to a spot in the room, and April looked over to see a very D.I.Y. toilet, made of scrap metal welded together. (She could recall that Donnie's welding materials had been taken from him weeks ago.) “I hooked it up to go straight into the tunnels,” Donnie boasted proudly. “I even dug the holes myself! Digged? Dug.”

“...yeeeah, we're getting rid of that,” April grimaced.

“WHAT?! WHY?!”

“YOU KNOW VERY WELL WHY.”

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

[In time, Donnie would let April call him by his name. And, in time, he would learn that his name was his, and his alone.]

○●○●○●○

And that's it! Totally! April has started on her long journey to fixing all of her broken brothers! She has NO OTHER BROTHERS THAT HAVE ISSUES, why would you ever think that 🟥🐢

This part gave me quite a few problems. Knowing that the "Maps" comic is probably going to explore April and Donnie's relationship, I was a little scared about making assumptions. Also, you don't realize how difficult it is to write someone who isn't all there until you're actually trying to do it. Eventually I just said "screw it, if he's out of character, its fine". So now we're here :)

ALso, no one tells you how motivating and powerful the high you get when someone you look up to praises your work is, I thought this would take me WAY LONGER to finish 🤡

aanyway, congrats to all the tmnt au comp winners, again. Can't wait to see who moves on from here :D

Part 4 -> ❤️

[thecruellestmonth]

How many times has Jason Todd tried to murder Tim Drake?

Answer: Jason Todd has tried one (1) time to murder Tim Drake AND Damian Wayne. And it was not "The Titans Tower Incident".

Sections:

Attack I: Hush by Jeph Loeb

Attack II: Teen Titans (2003) #29 by Geoff Johns (AKA the "Titans Tower Incident")

Attack III: Battle for the Cowl by Tony Daniel

Hush

Did Jason try to murder Tim in Hush?

Batman #617 (writer: Jeph Loeb)

Jason cuts Tim's neck!

Batman #618 [writer: Jeph Loeb]

...Oh, wait, it actually isn't that bad.

Tim could use some non-urgent stitches, but he is still fully awake and walking on his own two feet. Batman sends Tim back to the Batcave unaccompanied, and tells him to continue working on their case.

♢ Verdict: Nah, Jason did not try to murder Tim in Hush. It wasn't theatrical and climactic enough.

(*Side note: Hush reveals that this Jason is supposedly just an impersonation by Clayface. But Batman Annual #25 later changes the lore so that the real Jason did initially appear here. After the part when the real Jason takes Tim hostage, Batman chases him through a dark and rainy graveyard—and the real Jason then takes the opportunity to switch out with Clayface as his body double. It's confusing, I know!)

Teen Titans (2003) #29

Did Jason try to murder Tim in Teen Titans (2003) #29? (Also known as "THE Titans Tower Incident", as opposed to all the other Titans Tower incidents in which Titans died and the Tower was destroyed.)

Teen Titans (2003) #29 [writer: Geoff Johns]

Jason beats up Tim with a bo staff and punches. No blades or guns involved. Tim blacks out. Tim later wakes up and gets to his feet when the other Titans come to help him.

Raven explains, "Jason was always aggressive. He was determined to one day be better than all of us. Especially Batman." This story confirms that Jason has always been an overcompensating jerkwad, and death didn't make him any nicer—he's bullying Tim in a jealous fit to prove he's better than him, and not out of murderous intent.

Teen Titans (2003) #47 [writer: Adam Beechen] - "The guy attacked all of us once just to prove he was better than me!"

Straight from Tim's own mouth—Jason infiltrated Titans Tower just to bully Tim, not to murder him.

♢ Verdict: Jason EXPLICITLY did NOT try to murder Tim in Teen Titans (2003) #29, also bafflingly known as "THE Titans Tower Incident". He didn't cut Tim's neck or use any bladed implements this time either.

Battle for the Cowl

(Everyone's favorite comic! Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Evil Batman time!)

Did Jason try to kill Tim in Batman: Battle for the Cowl?

Batman: Battle for the Cowl [writer: Tony S Daniel]

Jason shoots 10-year-old Damian in the chest, causing Damian to need eighty-nine stitches and a sizable blood transfusion to save his life.

Jason later stabs Tim in the chest, drags his "rotting corpse" into an alcove in his weird sewer creature lair, crucifies Tim's Batman suit on an honest-to-God actual cross, and brags about killing him to Dick.

But when Jason and Dick come unto the "tomb", they found the stone rolled away, and found not the body of the Lord Jesus, Tim's "body" had risen on the third day vanished.

Tim apparently only survived the blood loss due to some weird technique that allows him to slow his pulse to a near-death state.

♠ Verdict: YEAH, it sure looks like Jason did try to kill 17-year-old Tim AND 10-year-old Damian in Battle for the Cowl!

So remember—next time we bring up the time that Jason tried to kill poor Tim, we ALSO need to hold Jason accountable for trying to brutally murder a ten-year-old little boy and all the trauma that totally definitely caused.

Conclusion: Jason would ONLY try to kill Tim as a dramatic cliffhanger to end the second act of a limited event series in which Jason is the main villain.

Otherwise the production just wouldn't be theatrical enough.

See also: Robin tradition by @arabian-batboy

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Turtles x tattoo artist!reader

Got this idea after I read a Leo x tattoo artist on Wattpad. It was super cute, but as a tattooed person that has started tattooing my friends, I have to tell my fellow ff writers something that will make your tattoo ff more realistic. DON’T EVER REUSE NEEDLES!!!! WEAR GLOVES!!!!! ALSO WHEN YOU PUT ON A STENCIL!!!!!!! Hopefully I saved some turtles from an infected tattoo.

Enjoy!💙❤️💜🧡

Warnings: Needles, pain, tattooing, some of the turtles being cheeky, spelling.

—-----------------------------------------------

Leonardo:

As your last client of the day went out the door with their newest tattoo, you breathed a sigh of relief. The last few ones have been though. Unable to sit still, with a need to look at the tattoo several times while you were working on it, almost causing you to go outside of the lines. Not what you needed. But all the thought of irritation and frustration washed away, when you remembered; your boyfriend was coming to get a tattoo.

Last night, Leonardo had asked you if you would do a tattoo on him. You had obviously said yes, excited to finally tattoo your boyfriend. Leo was by far heavily tattooed, but he did sport a few on his arms, all symbolizing his brothers.

As you locked the front door, flipped the open sign to close and pulled the curtains, you could hear the back door that led to the alley, open and close. It was Leo. You rushed to the back door with a happy skip, and greeted your green boyfriend with a big smile. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and brought his face down to yours for a kiss.

“Hey”, you smiled.

“Hey”, he smiled back before giving you another kiss.

You brought him with you back into the main area of the shop, asking him what he wanted to get tattooed. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pockets and gave it to you. You unfolded it.

A katana. Simple black lines with minor shadowing. You were pretty sure that Leo had drawn this himself.

“Of course”, you chuckled, looking at the paper in your hand. “Where do you want it?”

“Right here”. Leo pointed to the side of his left forearm.

“That could actually be really good”, you said, studying his arm. Leo’s arm was nothing new for you. They had been wrapped around you so many times, that you knew them as well as the back of your own hand. But on the rarest occasions, had you thought about tattoo placements on his arm.

“I think we should size it up. Around… this big”. You measured out his arm, with one finger marking out just above his wrist and just below his elbow.

“Is that because you as a tattoo artist know it would look better, or is it because you as my girlfriend want an excuse to keep tattooing me for as long as possible?”, Leo asked with a smile.

“A little bit of both, I would say”.

“In that case, I think we should do it”.

To say that you were happy was an understatement. All your earlier tiredness and frustration flew out the window, as you went to your desk so you could draw the stencil. Leo followed you, and watched you intently while you drew over the stencil paper, tracing the outlines of his design.

“That’s not how Raph did it”, Leo said with a small chuckled, remembering the time he and his brothers did each other's tattoos, with a tattoo machine Donnie had made.

“How did Raph do it?”, you asked, smiling at the thought of what Leo had told you. Young turtle brothers sitting in the shared bedroom of their old lair, long after Master Splinter had gone to bed, tattooing each other like the young rebellious teenagers they once were.

“He drew it directly on me with a marker”.

“Doesn’t sound very sanetray”, you laughed. “Especially not in a sewer”.

“Nope. That is why I’m going to you from now on”, Leo said as he reached down to kiss your forehead.

With Leo’s stencil finished, you went to work preparing your station one last time that evening. You put on your gloves, wrapped the station in film, prepared the cream, poured the black ink, got your new needles and wrapped your machine for a better grip.

Leo watched you with those eyes that always made you blush, while you disinfected his arm, applied the transfer jell, and then placed the stencil. When you moved back and told Leo to look in the mirror, he didn’t move. Instead he just stared at you with those eyes and that little smile.

“I trust you. It looks good”.

Fighting your flustered face and biting down your lip, you moved Leo into the seat, before stretching his arm and moving it to an angle, so it would be easy for you. With that you started your machine and began doing his lines.

Leo - with his high pain tolerance - didn’t move a muscle, but instead just stared at you as you worked. You could feel his strong gaze on you, trying your hardest to focus on his tattoo in front of you.

You continued working in silence, with nothing but the sound of your tattoo machine being heard. Silence wasn’t new for you and Leo, nor did it make you uncomfortable. The two of you would often enjoy each other’s presence in silence, each doing your own thing, simply finding comfort in being near each other. Like him meditating or sharpening his katana, while you were drawing or reading. Just like right now. Leo admiring you while you were working.

After two hours of tense work on Leo’s arm, you finally finished. With a last whip over his arm, you wrapped it up, making sure it would be protected during the first stages of healing.

“So, what do you think?”, you asked Leo as he assessed the katana on his arm with warm eyes.

“It’s amazing”, he said, smiling bright. “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

“You might have told me a few times”, you said as you started cleaning up.

Leo stood up from his seat and walked to you, before wrapping both arms around you, bringing his face down to yours.

“I love you, my amazing little tattoo”, he said, before letting your lips meet in a sweet kiss. And with that you knew, you would definitely tattoo Leo again.

Raphael:

Under normal circumstances, you would have said no to be doing a tattoo in the sewers. No way that wouldn’t get infected and heal probably. It was a tail made for disaster. But when your brute of a boyfriend asked you as nicely as he did, and promised you cuddles and a foot rub, there was no way you could say no. Especially not when he made those big teddy bear eyes that only you got to see. You just had to say yes.

So there you were in Raphael’s room, in the sewers deep below New York City, setting up a small tattoo station on his nightstand. Raphael stood right behind you fiddling with a football in his hands, watching you unpack your stuff with curiosity. Yes, he did have a tattoo, but one that was made with a machine Donnie had but together, not a real machine. So to see a real one in front of him for the first time, had his attention peaked.

“So”, you asked, checking the battery for your machine. “What were you thinking of?”

“A samurai”, Raph said with a small smile, as he spun the football in his hands.

“You and those damn samurais”, you chuckled and laid out your paper and stencil paper. “I thought that this time around you would like a ninja”.

“Maybe one day, on the other leg”, Raph said with a smug smile. “If this one goes right”.

“Well okay smart guy”, you laughed turning towards him. “Where on your leg do you want it”.

“I was thinking here”. Raphael laid the football on the ground before going to the outside of his right calf, measuring out from his knee to ankle.

“Do you want it to take up the whole side?”

“Of course”, Raph smiled. “It has to match”. He pointed towards the samurai on his shoulder.

“Just as black?”

“You know me baby”, he said, giving you that smug smile.

You bit back a smile, trying to fight back the blush that was creeping up your face. Damn Raphael and his smooth comments.

“Okay, I’ll do a sketch and you tell me what you think about it. If you like it, we can get tattooing”.

“Sounds like one of the best plans I’ve heard in a long time”, Raph said, still smiling like that smug fucker he is. But damn you loved that man.

As you got drawing on the sketch, Raph would walk in and out of his room, grabbing drinks and food from the kitchen, before returning. Every once in a while he would get up from his bed, just to give you a kiss on the cheek, wrap his arms around you, and look at how far you’ve gotten.

Raph loved your finished sketch, stating something along the lines of; “so far, so good”, just to annoy you.

With Raphael laying on his bed, with pants rolled up and wrapped around his knee and slightly turned to the side, you placed the stencil on the side of his muscular side calf. You had to admit, you were proud of your work so far. The artwork flowed with the curve, sway and size of Raph’s calf, showing it off.

As you started the machine and dipped the needle in the ink cup, Raphael got comfortable with his hands behind his back, still with his smug smile plastered on his face.

“Are you ready?”, you asked as you placed your other hand on his leg to spread the skin.

“Born ready”.

And with that statement from your boyfriend, you started working on the lines in his tattoo.

Raphael’s tattoo was big and detailed, which meant a lot of work. But not even 15 minutes into the tattoo, you saw Raph shifting and grimes for a split second, before pressing his eyes shut. Your tough boyfriend was breaking character.

“You okay there, Raphie?”, you asked with a sly smile, dipping the needle in the ink once more before going back in.

“Yup, I’m okay. More than okay actually”, he said, still with his eyes pressed shut.

“I hope so, because you know, the closer I get to your foot and the closer I get to your knee, the more it’ll hurt”.

“Ah fuck”.

“And that’s just the line work. I’ll have to go in afterwards and do filling and shadowing”.

“H- how long do you think all that will take?” Raph’s eyes now open, looking at you with a slight fear in his eyes.

“Well, with a tattoo this size and this detailed, easily four hours”.

“So only three more hours?”

“Raph, baby, we’ve only been going for 15 minutes”.

Raphael groaned loudly, grabbing onto the pillow behind his head. “Fuck me”.

“Later baby”, you laughed. “It won’t be a good idea while you have an open tattoo”.

Raph sighed. “(Y/N), I love you, but sometimes you’re annoying as fuck”.

“I love you too Raphie, and if it helps anything, I too find you annoying sometimes”, you smiled sweetly at him, causing Raph to bite back a smile, the same way he made you do not too long ago.

“And just so you know”, you continued while wiping ink away from Raph’s leg. “You still owe me cuddles and a foot rub afterwards' '.

Raphael exhaled loudly, face scrunching up as the needle went back over his skin. “I really didn’t think this through, did I?”

“Nope, not at all”.

Nevertheless, after four hours and many loud exclamations from Raphael that could be heard all throughout the lair, your boyfriend had gotten himself a new big tattoo. And if you had to be honest, it was pretty hot, and not just because you were the one that made it.

Donatello:

When Donatello had asked for you to tattoo him, you were kind of shocked to say the least. Your sweet, tech nerdy, genius of a boyfriend, who did not have a single tattoo on his beautiful green body, wanted you to tattoo him. You had to blink and ask him to repeat his request.

But Donatello was serious. He wanted a tattoo. He even offered to give you space in his lab, so you could set up a propper station, and that was an offer you just couldn’t refuse.

You had unpacked your station in Donnie’s lab, currently drawing the design Donnie had given you onto transfer paper, while he was taking a closer look at your tattoo machine.

“It’s very different from the one I made”, Donnie noticed, turning it in his three fingered hands. 

“How did you guys even do it back then?”, you asked, eyes still on the drawing.

“Well, I made the machine, and the guys had several designs”, he said, thinking back to the old days in the old lair with a smile. “We all got a turn tattooing Leo”.

You chuckled, finding the thought amusing. Stupid and reckless, but amusing nonetheless.

“Where did you get ink from?”

“A pen. Many pens actually”. He placed your machine on the table, before taking a seat next to you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder, looking at your hand working. “We broke open the pens and poured it into a solo cup”.

“That is really not sanitary”, you laughed, leaning your head to the side, so your temple was pressed against Donnie’s forehead.

“No, it really isn’t”, he laughed, nuzzling his face closer to yours.

“Now Donnie”, you said, nodding towards the drawing in front of you. It was a design of a turtle, somewhat like the one Leo and Mikey shared, but with its own intricate design around it. “What is the meaning behind this, and why do you want it?”

“Well, it is a turtle, so much is obvious”, Donnie said, causing you to nudge him slightly. “And well, it just felt like it was about time. I just finally want a tattoo. And me being the lucky guy that I am, have a tattoo artist as a girlfriend, so it just seemed obvious”.

“Well, that is enough reasoning for me”.

You finished the stencil and put on gloves, getting ready to prep Donnie’s skin with disinfectants.

“The shoulder is one of the easiest places”, you told him, as you smoothed the paper over his shoulder. “Many people experience that the shoulder hurts way less than any other places”.

“Did yours hurt?”, Donnie asked, nodding towards the tattoo on your shoulder. He had looked at it so many times, often wondering how you felt while getting it. It was probably one of the main reasons why he hadn’t gotten a tattoo yet; the fear of it hurting. Especially after he saw the way Mikey and Raph reacted to their tattoos back then.

“Not at all”, you said, peeling the paper back from his skin, leaving back purple lines for you to follow. “I almost fell asleep during mine. Now, take a look in the mirror and tell me what you think”.

Donnie went to the mirror and took a look at his shoulder, before turning to you with a smile.

“It looks great”, he said.

“Then sit down good sir, and let me get started on you”, you said, opening a new needle with your gloved hands.

Donnie sat down like you told him to, and watched as you got the needle ready. You turned on the machine, dipping it into the ink cup while it hummed. You placed your other hand on Donnie’s shoulder, spreading his green scaly skin.

“Remember, you can always tell me if you need a break or if you're getting uncomfortable. Keep your breathing calm and level, and it will save you from a lot of unnecessary stress. And with that in mind, are you ready?”

Donnie nodded with a small smile. “I’m ready”.

You let the needle brace Donatello’s skin, watching for any reaction by your boyfriend, showing any discomfort.

“Okay, that is not as bad as I thought it would be”, he said, turning his head slightly to look at the needle.

“It’s rarely that bad”, you told him, wiping the first line. “Trust me. I still get surprised every time I get tattooed”.

Donnie chuckled, imagining the scene of you in a tattoo shop.

As time went on, and as you were half way through the tattoo, you noticed the first signs of discomfort from your boyfriend.

“Okay, I can feel it now”, he said, grimacing slightly. “It is not bad, but it’s more. I’m not sure how else to describe it”.

“Don’t worry. We’re halfway done”, you said, dipping the needle in the ink cup. “But I will recommend that you take it easy afterwards and get a good night's sleep”.

“I will if you stay and keep me company”.

“Well, you don’t have to ask me twice”, you said, wiping the tattoo down one more time.

It didn’t take long before you finished the tattoo, smearing cream over it before wrapping it up. Donatello seemed slightly shocked by it.

“Are you done already?”, he asked, looking at his new tattoo under the plastic wrap.

“Yeah, it was not a super complicated tattoo”, you laughed, as you started to clean up after yourself. “And you’re really easy to tattoo. That only made it quicker”.

“Well in that case”, he said and stood up, before wrapping his arms around from behind. “Would you like to start that good night’s sleep a little earlier?”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do”, you said, pulling your tall boyfriend down to you for a sweet kiss.

Michelangelo:

Bless your boyfriend and his kind, sweet, beautiful, helpful heart. What he wouldn’t do for you? Nothing. He would do everything and even more if you asked for it, also if you didn’t ask for it. And that was the nature of Mikey. Showing his love for you in spontaneous and caring ways, that not even you had expected. Such as volunteering for you to practice your tattooing, after hearing you talk about how much you wanted to practice.

And that was what led up to you and Mikey sitting on your couch, talking about the best place for you to tattoo him.

“I don’t know, baby”, you said, pressing your fingers against Mikey’s upper stomach. “I’ve never tattooed a plastron before”.

“Don’t worry Angelcakes, it will be fine”, Mikey said with a bright smile. “It will just be right here”, he said, gliding his finger over the top of his stomach, to outline the placement.

“But can a needle even get through that?”, you asked, pressing a little firmer against his plastron. You knew how firm Mikey’s plastron was. You had found yourself being pressed against it so many times, that you had familiarized yourself quite well with it at this point. But the thought of poking a needle through it had never crossed your mind.

“I don’t know. Maybe? There’s truly only one way to find out”.

“But baby, what if I break your plastron instead?”

“It’ll heal. Have you already forgotten this beautiful body as mutagen running in it? I can heal in no time!”

“But”, you said in thought. “Aren’t your shell and plastron also bulletproof?”

“But Angelcakes!”, Mikey pouted. “It could be so sick with a tattoo like that! I would look so good!”

“But you already look good Mikey”, you giggled.

“I know but still”.

You sighed. It was no use trying to argue with him about it. It would take either your needle or his plastron cracking slightly before he would drop the topping, so therefore you finally agreed with your silly turtle of a boyfriend.

“Yes!” Mikey fist pumped the air before giving you a quick kiss. “I knew you couldn’t resist the thought of me with a stomach tattoo!”

You laughed, shaking your head, before going to your room to find your supplies. Mikey already had a very clear idea of what he wanted. He wanted he and his brothers’ birth year of 1999 tattooed over his plastron, in good old gothic lettering. It actually relieved you that he hadn’t chosen anything more detailed. You just wanted to practice, not rival his name sake.

It didn’t take long before you had finished the stencil and placed it on your boyfriend, before telling him to go look at it in the mirror. You couldn’t help but smile, as Mikey started posing in front of the mirror. The 1999 on his plastron, still dark purple from the stencil ink.

“Yup! I like it! Lets go!”, Mikey said, jumping back towards you with a big smile. “I’m ready!”

“You cute goofball”, you laughed, guiding him towards your couch. “Come and lay down”.

Michelangelo did as you told him, and laid down on his shell, with his hands comfortably behind his head, watching with a smile as you sat yourself down. That smile could easily make butterflies erupt in your stomach, and it did so in that very moment, right as you dipped your needle in the ink.

To your surprise, the needle glided over Mikey’s plastron easily. It was almost easier than on real skin, and closer to the fake skin you usually would practice on. You didn’t even had to spread the surface with your other hand. Mikey seemed to enjoy himself.

“Do you feel anything?”, you asked, wiping the tattoo. It stayed pretty well.

“I can feel it, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s a little strange to be honest”.

“Strange or not, I still think you're cute”.

Mikey smiled, hinting at you to come closer. You removed the needle from his plastron and leaned closer to his face, before being met by him in a sweet kiss. You giggled before returning to his plastron to continue his tattoo.

“I am the luckiest man and turtle in this world”, Mikey then said. “I have the hottest girlfriend there is, and she makes some pretty awesome tattoos. I’ll say I got the best of both worlds”.

You giggled, shaking your head one more time, feeling a blush grow on your face. What did you do to deserve this guy?

With Mikey not feeling any pain from his tattoo, and the fact that you didn’t have to spread anything or do much, it didn’t take long before Mikey’s plastron tattoo was finished. You were throwing the used needle out in the kitchen trash can, when suddenly a question popped into your head.

“How long does it take for your plastron to heal?”

“Not long”, Mikey answered, drinking casually from a Capri Sun by your side, poking slightly at the new numbers on his front. “I think it will be healed by tomorrow”.

“So you don’t need any aftercare at all?”, you asked, pulling his hand away from his tattoo.

“Depends”, he started, placing the Capri Sun on the counter, before wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his face closer to yours. “What kind of aftercare are we talking about?”

“Dork”, you laughed.

“Hey, don’t deny what we both know will happen”, he said, getting ever closer to your lips.

“When your tattoo is healed, Mikey”.

“Oh well, would you look at that”, Mikey said, pointing towards his plastron. “I’m already healing”.

After that night, Mikey would definitely be asking for more tattoos from you.

—-------------------------------------------------

I need another tattoo soon…

[ilk-insolence]

Leo Analysis

There’s a popular reading in the Rise fandom that Leo is the strategist of his brothers, but I’d like to propose a counter-theory that, while Leo can be strategic, his actual skillset is in deception, manipulation, and perception. In other words, Leo is good at things involving people.

(Hey, uh, this is pretty long)

In the show, Leo shows a preference to following others’ leads rather than strategize himself. In One Man’s Junk, Leo is the only brother that doesn’t actually think up a plan to find more mystic metal, instead picking sides on who’s plan he thinks is better. This is seen again in Late Fee, where Raph and Donnie being the ones who formulate a plan to return the DVD. Again, in the season 2 finale, E-Turtle Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (god that is long), Leo doesn’t come up with a plan to defeat the Shredder, he instead made everyone turn to Raph for one [2:15]. This all follows a pattern that Leo admits in Battle Nexus: New York, "And we'll do it with our special brand of teamwork: where my brothers do the work but we share equal credit" [1:10]. He’s very lazy (I mean this affectionately), and prefers to follow someone else’s lead. The final nail in the coffin is the movie, where Leo is very distinctly not the one who comes up with the plan to lock away the Kraang. While admittedly that moment is from him learning to build others up rather than try to do everything himself, Leo is clearly characterized to not tend to strategize.

However, there are episodes where he does plan. A notable example being Many Unhappy Returns, where Leo planned ahead around Big Mama to trick her into giving them the mystic collar. Another is The Hidden City Job, where Leo pretended to be a statue to get into Big Mama’s vault in her auction. There’s also Origami Tsunami, where Leo briefly took the leader position, and planned the fake paper shop to catch the paper thieves. Smaller examples include, Man Vs Sewer (two attempts of snapping Raph out of his savage state), Bug Busters (freeing his brothers), and the movie (teleporting Kraang Prime into the portal). However, one commonality in all those schemes is that they’re all deceptions (okay, except for Man Vs Sewer but I have a whole other reason for that). In Many Unhappy Returns, Leo isn’t so much as being strategic but manipulative, understanding who Big Mama is, foreseeing that she’ll shove him in the arena with his dad, and planning around that by appearing stupid. He tricked her into cutting a deal in his favor (allowing him to have a weapon in the arena [17:25]). In The Hidden City Job, Leo’s plan is basically tricking Big Mama again, pretending to be something valuable enough to belong in her vault (almost worked too well there). Origami Tsunami, Leo surmised that the bad guys would want more paper and created the fake paper store. All of those plans involved tricking the opponent based on what Leo understood of them, and they worked. Of course, planning moves around an opponent could be qualified as strategic, but these events highlighted Leo’s skill in reading and manipulating others, not as a tactician.

Again, I’m not saying Leo can’t be strategic. In Flushed But Never Forgotten, Leo’s plan to fighting Piebald is to camouflage himself with sewer sludge (gross). That’s strategic. In Bug Busters, Leo distracting the guards with an empty laundry bin to trip them into a portal he created behind them is strategic. Leo’s whole stunt with Kraang Prime and teleporting them both into the portal was sick as shit, and strategic. Hell, his whole power with the teleporting/portals requires Leo to think tactically. But, in comparison with his brothers, particularly Raph, Leo doesn’t seem that much better than them at strategizing.

What Leo is characterized to be, is manipulative. Two main examples are Air Turtle and the infamous Lair Games, where, in both, poor Donnie gets tricked by Leo to do something for Leo’s benefit. In both stunts, the emphasis was put on to Leo’s deceptive nature. In the Lair Games, Leo intentionally put his room up as a prize with the knowledge that his brothers wanted to take something important away from him, hiding the fact that that was exactly what he wanted [12:45]. In Air Turtle, he lied to Donnie’s face that he could make the last shot in order to get his own opening/spotlight [10:16, and 11:14]. Unlike with strategizing, these events are made out to be points of distinction for Leo. He’s also shown to be extremely perceptive, as @/our-happygirl500-fan user pointed out in their post of him realizing Splinter had some history with Big Mama. And being the only one to suspect Raph throwing his fight with Donnie in Sparring Partner [9:54]. This all lines up with Leo's role as a faceman, somebody who's good with people. Combined with his performance in Many Unhappy Returns, Leo is shown to be someone extremely skilled in deception, and reading others.

Tldr, I think Raph is the strategist of the group, closely followed by Donnie. And Leo’s actual strength lies in his ability with people, his perception and manipulation. He’s not a strategist, but a trickster. A lying liar who lies (I love him).

Of course, I could be extremely wrong so I would love any input or commentary, especially regarding Leo's strategist status, because I could be glaringly missing something. Thanks.

[tmntxthings]

一∑ Electric Shock・゜・。

request: He’s on a solo mission to track down a mutant that appeared on his radar. Tried to get his brothers to tag along but they were too busy with whatever stupid contest. So he goes out to apprehend the evil doer!! Only to appear upon the scene of a beautiful “villain” who keeps zapping all through the electronics at this big store…bonus points if the villain is as energetic as the electricity coursing through them as they zap giddily all around him and make this capture out to be a rather… difficult one? aka Donnie encounters an eccentric, too-much-to-handle cutie

author’s note: for my dearest @marwhoa >.< it’s not much so sorry but I couldn’t really think of a better ending <33 thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy

warnings: rlly short, unedited, fluff

—————————————————————————

When Donnie’s tech worked. It made him ridiculously happy. Something he worked on day and night, coming to life before his fingertips and functioning its intended purpose??? Absolute bliss! So when his radar picked up another mutant on the loose, he was all too happy bounding into the main section of the lair to show his brothers.

“Guys!! Look, my radar hit another mutant’s frequency!”

He wasn’t met with the same enthusiasm. In fact it seemed everyone was hollering and yelling over one another in a heated argument.

“No! Space Heroes is the best show ever—“

About their favorite show..?

“Guys??” Donnie called out, waving his radar in hand. He was quite blatantly ignored as Mikey started covering his ears and screaming in denial that ‘No Space Heroes is laaaame’

Donnie groaned to himself as he departed. He figured he could take this mission solo if no one was even going to pay attention to his presence. “Sometimes I wonder how we’re even ‘related’” Donnie mumbled as he made quick work of grabbing his bo staff and exited the lair out into the sewers.

He decided he would stay underground until he got close enough to the ping that the radar had detected. The occasional beep kept him company as he glanced down every now and again to see if he was getting any closer.

Donnie beamed with pride as the radar started to beep rapidly, indicating he was very close to the target. He turned off the radar, clipped it to the leather strap on his plastron and climbed out of the sewer through a manhole.

It was quiet.. too quiet as he peered around before completely exposing himself to the topside of New York. A couple of yards away sat the most beloved store in the entire city. It held some of the finest tech around and Donnie was beside him to have the chance to look around—

Ah, wait wait no. He was on a mission! Though… the radar had led him here. So maybe the mutant was into tech??? Trying to steal it?!? The thought had him moving towards the building, even if it was just an excuse to get a closer look.

It was way past everyone’s bed time, so the store was rightfully closed. The only light around was from a lone street light—

Scratch that, it just flickered and went off completely.

And that’s when he heard it. Delightful giggles rang out. A symphony of tinkling chimes was what he could compare the sound to. It had him freezing and listening closely.

He wasn’t alone.

Surely it had to be the mutant.

But instead of grabbing his bo, Donnie moved stealthily with the shadows, sticking close to the side of the electronics building. He didn’t know whether to check inside through the glass windows or try to get on the roof for a vantage point of the whole area. Whilst overthinking, the laughter once again had his entire thought process coming to a stop.

And it sounded like it was coming from above..!!!!

As Donnie looked up he literally felt his entire being go slack. His arms that had been pressed into the building’s side went straight down, as his mouth fell open.

A floating, glowing angel— person— no mutant! A beautiful flying, glowing mutant!! He watched as your hand extended out towards the street lamp, it suddenly flared to life, straining with how much light it was producing before the glass containing such velocity shattered.

You laughed once more, “That was nice but not enough, now youuuu~~” Your hand changes direction to the store full of gadgets and gizmos. “You will give me alllll the power I want!” Your body glowed brighter like it was reacting to your excitement. And even though Donnie was clueing in the fact that you were about to steal..energy..? Right yeah that must be it!

So that rounded your description to, beautiful glowing, floating, mutant villain. Bummer. But maybe he could convince you otherwise? It wasn’t exactly the smartest plan he ever came up with, but maybe he wanted to just try talking to you before swinging in with his stick. Yeah. He wanted to make a nice impression.

. . .

And we’re not gonna analyze too closely as to why. Because he surely wasn’t like insta-crushing on you or anything from first sight. Nope. Totallyyyyy not.

“Ahem!”

Donnie coughed and you whipped your head towards the noise, instantly aiming your hand at him. It shined brighter than the rest of your body. As if a ball of pure light was building up in your palm.

“Ah well, I was just wondering if maybe we could talk about not stealing all the energy out of my favorite store??” Donnie stumbled through some of that but mustered up enough will to speak! He felt greener than usual. Was he blushing?!

“Ohhhh,” your hand faltered, going a little dim. “Well, if this is your favorite store… I guess I could go to another!” You surmised cheerily.

Donatello started to smile at the kindness when he realized you were still going to steal. Even if it wasn’t from this store. “Wait wait! Why do you have to steal??”

“Because it’s fun!” That bright smile blinded him. Your statement making it sound as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well there’s definitely more fun things you could be doing..” Donnie tried to reason with you. Not really noting the fact that you were floating lower and closer to his position on the ground.

“Like what Mr…?”

“Oh! Donatello! Donnie I mean—“

“Nice to meetcha!” You bemused. “Now what exactly could be more fun that zapping all the power out of game stores and making me more powerful? Hmmmm?”

“Well!”

You waited with twinkling eyes.

“Uhhhh..”

Donnie swore he had an idea just a second before. But the longer your stared… and the closer you got.. the hotter he felt!! “You sure you can think of anything more fun than that?” You raised an eyebrow cheekily. Donnie swallowed.

“Y-you could hang out with me!”

Donnie closed his eyes promptly cringing at himself. That would probably only be fun for him. It seemed he was instantly hooked on your presence.

“Hmmm maybe so!”

His eyes opened quickly wide with shock. “Really??” It had meant to be just a thought but he spoke it aloud. You laughed for him then. He had made you laugh!!

“Really really,” You playfully winked. Finally stepping out of the sky and standing next to him. You were still glowing, but since you were closer now he saw that it wasn’t exactly on your person. Just surrounding you like a bubble. “Lead the way then Donnie-Bonnie! Where are we gonna go have some fun??”

Donnie absentmindedly wondered if dissuading a villain had ever gone so smoothly before…? He didn’t want to break whatever spell was happening in this moment so he nodded rapidly. Asking about your hobbies (other than stealing energy) and he found out that you quite enjoyed playing games and much as stealing power from them.

He could bring you down to the lair… they had a few arcade games there. But! He didn’t exactly want his brothers stealing all your attention or worse thinking you were an enemy. “I know just the place!” Donnie smiled and the two of you made your way to a late-night arcade. That was the start a very interesting night and an even more promising relationship!

[circeius-invidioso]

👏🏻 Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay.👏🏻

Those 4 Liber books. Which ones you may ask.

These ones.

Now that we are all in the same page.

✨️Let's talk about them.✨️

Not good enough to be collected.

Not bad enough to be forgotten.

And not forget them we shall.

The tall and short of the story:

They are expansion packs to the main tabletop rpg game. And you guessed correctly it add daemons etc etc.

That etc etc is.

Liber Ecstatica : Slaanesh and horny on main cults.

Liber Infectus : Nurgle and dirty plagues.

Liber Mutatis : Tzeentch and birdy mutations.

Liber Carnagia : Khorne and angy serial killers. (No the spelling error was on purpose. Cause our boy real angy)

+ an adventure on theme with the above.

A solid 3/ 10.

Unless you are a writer and need basic descriptions of daemons and fluff then its a decent 3.5/ 10.

Now.

Now that we dealt with that.

Its time.

For the tall and longer.

And in depth analysis and my personal ice cold takes and my thesis of - this would have been lit if we played the villains pov.

I could be talking about the latest books, hell I could be talking about dnd. But no me and you we are here and we are stuck and for the next 5 minutes I am the captain and I will take you on an adventure.

🐙Liber Mutatis - feat Dj BoBo and the Mutants are Alive🐙

Nothing gets me more going than referances that weren't funny even in 2007.

What the book adds to gameplay?

Mutations. From bird beaks to tentacle limbs in case you decide to multipraise Slaanesh on the side.

Because you aren't just a chicken worshipper, you are a wizard and what best way to show it that gaining an additional 30 eyeballs for all those books you want to read.

This book is your one stop to fond some very basic mutations to add to a game.

And when I say basic. I mean basic, don't expect great stuff. But I guess this might have been part of the plan...

What's the included adventure like?

You team goes in a town to find why all those apprentices have been taking such a long unauthorized day off.

Well they were kidnapped by a cult with a ringleader being a shop keeper with a Lord of Change tranformed as a parrot named Bobo that births pink eggs.

Then they feed those pink eggs to create mutant bird people.

Your job is to stop it. Not the most original ideal... but what would it be if you played the adventure from the cultists pov?

Dj Bobo and his gang of squidmen

You heard the adventure of the heroes. But how would it be if you were the bad guy?

🐙 One player would pretend to be the shopkeeper with his pet parrot that births oversized pink eggs and you have to smuggle them and hide the fact from the people who came to stop you in the city.

🐙 The second will be the immortal nun with only her face intact in the soup house cooking for the poor and using the eggs to create mutant by trying to convince the people that those pink eggs are totally edible what do you mean eggs are not pink. Maybe you are seeing things...

🐙 The third one is squidward at the gates. Basically a war veteran that lost his legs. But jokes on them. The big bird man gave you tentacles and you will be wizzing throught the sewers like a getski.

🐙 The fourth will be the person kidnapping those student wizard kids, bagging them up and send them to the ritual site alongside your grizzled unshaven gang of pain assistants.

🐙 Finally someone can even take the role of the bird. Blasting eggs before the time of the summoning happens when they will be blasting magic and turning the whole city into a lethal rave.

🪲Liber Infectus- Grandaddy Nurgle's Black Death Clown Parade🪲

If only I was joking... stick around and find out more...

What the book adds to gameplay?

A wide selection of how you and your players can seriously get down with the sickness.

Besides that all the basic nasty descriptions about the warps most unwashed denizens. Basic. But we all start from somewhere, like how a rash develops into a mouth and eats the person living next door.

What's the included adventure like?

Evil doctor spreads a plague you are there to stop it etc etc. You can see where this goes from the words "initial symptom development".

Those sick clowns I mentioned

On the final part of the adventure a clown parade, with music and performers and everything. Pops in town and is ready to kick pc ass.

And the only thing I got to say is.

Why can't I play their pov.

The idea of five sick honk honk clowns in a cart playing music and spreading the literal word on nurgle with a mutant strapped on the back. Sounds like a wild adventure.

It sounds a lot more enjoyable than sitting around asking people "so when did the first symptom begin and how are you feeling?"

Give me the clowns. With their dancing plague and their bouncing nurglings on a wacky adventure to evade the law.

Fast and furiously popping knees and bursting shins.

⚘️Liber Carnagia- Renaming Khorne into Gandhi ⚘️

Again. Wait and I will explain this as well.

What the book adds to gameplay?

Nothing. Of value. Is it obvious that this one was my least favorite?

Whats the included adventure like?

Theres a magical angy spear and your job is to be beaten down and not kill anyone. Just sit with your thumb-tacks up your ass and do nothing.

That's what the adventure is.

In the book of Khorne what you are asked to do is not fight anyone.

The irony is so deep, I screamed that's deep bro and a lovecraftian horror responded from the chasm "I know".

Putting the K of Killer back into Khorne

A murder hobo adventure. That's it. It's a lot better than going to a besieged nun house and sitting on the grass asking those raiders to pretty please let go of the hostages.

Chaos, mayhem. If I was the dm I'd put everyone in a nonr stop 4 hour rollercoaster of blood, guts, bullets and norwegian death metal music playing in the background before they all die gloriously into a massive raid burning imperial churches.

Then go to hell, become daemons and be yeeted back into the mortal world to kick even more ass.

🪷Liber Ecstatica- And the Dick Measuring Olympics 🪷

The title will again make sense soon I swear.

What the book adds to gameplay?

Cults, anything you need to know about a basic degenerate cult. From poison chuggers to vape huffers and even vegetable shovers.

This is your one stop to make a bare bones cult for your games.

What's the included adventure like?

A girl is being chased after many eligible bachelors of the city.

And your job is to stop them from doing so.

How did this adventure start?

A rich old dude didn't like that an "average" in his eyes poor, low noble had admirers. So obviously its witchcraft.

The reason is as sound as an airplane made of shredded cheese. And the book is weidly mean about it.

Like the girl is fine. But everyone is like "she is not a busty noble that cries gold so obviously theres foul play, also have I told you that she is average".

Oh the crimes against humanity. If the adventure began and the noble was like "yeah my son flayed himself while screaming her name" then sure. I'd be calling foul play.

Busting a Nut not Busting a Move

The same but instead of having 10 men fighting over a decent, everyday girl its Danny Devito art critic and the whole team tries to complete the ritual and avoiding the witch hunters from burning their "beauty".

We are already dealing with a daemon that has magically roofied the local men in order to be freed from a magical mirror. We might as well make it into a comedy skit.

This is a game about the ultimate degenerates, extreme is the only word we must know. And you know what would be even better.

All of the players are grade A spandex bdsm supermodels and have to promote gollum as a drop dead nuke level bombshell.

[inkdragonworks]

June Update

Breaking the chain of not updating to talk about what I've been working on. As the absence of Poppin & Jupa here can tell, I switched projects back in April, to an older one I worked on for about 8 months in 2022. Main reason was feeling dejected a bit after the animation didn't do as well as I was expecting; been getting the impression that Tiera is more popular than them with folks lol.

Again I won't be cancelling it, or never working on PnJ, just switching focus so I can stay productive and make something that feels fun for me, which this has.

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

As a refresher, here's the game I've been picking at:

The game's current design can be broken down into:

intro sequence to introduce Tiera and the setting

initial puzzle + encounter to introduce the main mechanics

large hub in the form of Fragaria Park where you avoid the main threat, collect items, interact with side attractions, and access the 4 side areas

4 side areas, which have their own puzzles/challenges within with a primary goal at the end that progresses you towards the final escape

optional collectibles Since April I've worked on a part of the large hub, 3 of the 4 side areas, and the optional collectibles.

"Who works on optional stuff before the main game is done" well they play off of the main mechanics but mainly it's an excuse to draw something cute instead of programming.

These are Anna Banana and The Fruit Friends (Also Strawberry), characters from a cartoon show that Tiera likes (Except Strawberry).

They don't play any significant role/impact in the game (Besides Strawberry), but they reveal part of Tiera's interests, they form a small bit of the world's background, they make for fun type of collectible that gives something to do besides the main puzzles, and, again, I just felt like drawing cute shit.

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

For the hub, I worked on a themed side area dedicated to a playground. This does have puzzle elements in it, but a lot of it are silly interactions, and a reference to that cartoon I did a while back. Maybe you can recognize it here.

It's one of those "makes the setting feel more realized/fleshed out" deals.

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

For the side areas, what I've mainly been doing is settling on their exact design, blocking out the areas, and working on their puzzle sequence, obstacles, and any single screens that are tied to it.

Here's what I mean by "single screen":

Something that cuts away from the main game to it's own puzzle. This one here is for the performance theater. All graphics are placeholders just to get the logic in and see if it might work.

Making these type of puzzles is fun cause it reminds me the most of Resident Evil 1 and various flash adventure games I've played.

As for obstacles, a significant one I'm playing with for the theater is darkness, making use of Tiera's sonar to detect a safe path around deep pits.

She won't fall off right away, but it's tied to the same stamina system.

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

Another side area are the sewers, everyone's favorite video game setting. That obviously involves water, but the trickiest thing about it has been dealing with really complicated patterns of depth changing.

What that means is Tiera climbing up and falling down a lot, and trying to keep track of that. Here's what that looks like without proper graphics:

I'm very happy with how the area is turning out so far though, it's something you'd get to later and I think the puzzles do a good job of reflecting that progression.

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

The last side area I've poked at was the final sequence of the game. I've had a lot of different ideas of how to go about it but I think I'm happy with the set of them I have planned, something that builds up towards the climax and building off of what was set up in the rest of the game.

I wanna be careful about spoiling it, but here's one effect from it I've started work on:

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

I'm trying not to overshare here, though there's a lot more I've thrown into my server that I couldn't here. One of the side areas I haven't gotten to really pinning down is the Hedge Maze. I have a basic outline, but the main obstacle involved requires more dynamic logic. It's hard to settle on what that logic should be without set level design, and it's hard to settle on level design without knowing the limitations of that logic.

It's a similar issue with the main challenge of the game, both for the player and for designing: the ghosts.

What's intimidating is the feeling that they need to be very deliberate in this type of game, to balance between adding tension without veering into frustration. I'm hoping tackling everything surrounding them will make me more confident, but odds are I'll have to start with something simple and half-broken just to break the ice. And accepting I'll have to make something that gets thrown away, which I'm not used to doing... I really prefer thinking through stuff first before making it.

Anyway, thank you for reading.

[forever-rogue]

Joel getting hurt or even sick and ellie having to step up and take care of him like she did when he was impaled in the game :) ??

AN | In which we turn the tables and have Joel be the injured one for a change 😔

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language; Injury (non-descriptive)

Word Count | 2.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Joel?” you turned around, fully expecting to find him behind you. But when you turned around there was nothing but empty darkness. You whipped around and shined your light to see if he was among the shadows, “shit.”

You ran back down the dark alley, trying to keep as quiet as possible while you looked around for him. Fuck, you should have been paying more attention to him…you weren’t sure when he’d dropped off. You made your way back to the tunnels that you’d climbed through, heart beating wildly as ran through all the horrible things that could have been. 

“Joel!” you didn’t even care if anyone heard, you’d deal with any negative consequences as soon as you found him. He was all that mattered right now, “Joel!”

There was a muddy ditch next to the old sewer exit you’d climbed through to access the tunnels. It was from there that you heard a loud groan when you’d called out his name. 

A gasp escaped your lips as you ran over, sliding down in the mud yourself when your fast feet weren’t able to get purchase on anything solid. You tumbled down and landed on your butt with a small oof. 

Your own discomfort, including now sullied clothing, didn’t matter as soon as you stopped Joel. He was clutching at his arm and side and you could see a gash on his forehead. He caught your eye and gave you a grimace as you almost ran over to him. 

“Joel,” you crouched down so you could help sit up, “what happened? I…fuck, I didn’t hear you fall or anything.”

“‘m fine,” he tried to argue but it wasn’t fooling either of you, “bad footing.”

“You stubborn fool,” you wrapped an arm around his waist as best as you could to help him up, “I’m not even going to bother arguing with you right now because I know it’s pointless.”

He grumbled but accepted your help as you hoisted him to his feet. Instinctively he wrapped his good arm around your shoulders, “you really think we’re goin’ to make back, kid?”

“Hush,” you tutted as you did your best to climb out of the ditch and help your arms out to him. He was bigger, but right now you were stronger. The grumpy old man would do anything for you, and now it was your turn to give it all back; you would also do anything for him, without hesitation or question, “let me help and we’ll be back home before you know.”

“You could just leave me,” you looked at him in surprise, but you could tell that he wasn’t joking. He was giving you an out, “I could make it back.”

“If you think I would ever do that you don’t know me at all,” you rolled your eyes at the man. You looked away for a moment and missed the flicker of affection that crossed his features, “I am not leaving you behind. If you stay out here, I’m staying.”

“Listen-”

“No one gets left behind,” you told him firmly, leaving no room for discussion. His mouth pulled into a thin line but he gave you a nod, “now let’s go. And - and - when we get back I’m taking a look at that arm…and your head.”

“There’s no point in arguing with you, is there?” you didn’t bother to look back at him, a victorious little smile on your face. 

Maybe you were stubborn and dramatic, but so was he. That was just what you did when you loved someone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey,” Joel heard the sound of your soft voice but couldn’t quite bring himself to fully open his eyes. Then came your soft giggle and damn, if he hadn’t been in love before, he was now. He felt the tender brush of your knuckles against his cheek, “I know you’re awake, sleepyhead.”

“‘m not,” he insisted, his plush lips pulling into a pout that you were tempted to kiss away. But that could be saved for later when he was, you know, fully conscious, “still sleepin’.”

“Didn’t know you were able to respond so knowingly while you were sleeping,” you teased and that earned you a quick peek, “well, my love, I’m going to make some dinner, okay? Just rest here and I’ll check in on you when it’s all ready.”

You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist before you could leave the room, gently tugging you back. You grinned and obliged as he pulled you back towards the bed, “don’t go.”

“I have to,” you really did, although you wanted nothing more than to get into bed and wrap your arms around him and take a nap, “someone’s gotta keep you fed and watered.”

“Hurry back?” this time you were met with a full glance of his big, brown eyes. You took his hand and brought it to your lips as you pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

“Always,” you promised softly, “the sooner you let me go, the sooner I’ll be back.”

“Fine,” you could see the pretty flush of pink that colored his cheeks as you let go of his hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

He could practically feel the tender warmth and love radiating off you as you padded back to the kitchen, a little spring in your step, and a soft hum falling from your lips. 

Joel wasn’t a man that was often open in his affections, didn’t like to wear his heart on his sleeve if he could avoid it, but then there was you. You were his weakness, one of the brightest spots in his life and he would have sacrificed anything for you - you and Ellie. You were his family, and while he’d been reluctant to verbalize that at first, everyone knew it was true. 

He knew that if you knew the reason for his little accident was because he was keeping you safe from some unseen lurker, you probably wouldn’t have let him out of your sight again. Frankly, if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t have let you get more than a few feet away from him. 

Gone were the days when he believed it was best to remain stoic and quiet, and in were the days when he let himself be more gentle and human. 

If you would have heard him admit as much, you would have teased him. And yet, being teased by you didn’t sound like such a bad thing at all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey my love,” the bed dipped under your weight as you sat down at the edge next to him. You gently stroked your hand along his back, trying to ease him awake rather than just startle him, “time to wake up, sleepyhead.”

“I feel like death,” he groaned, voice thick with sleep and dryness as he rolled onto his back to look at you. You huffed in amusement before brushing a few rogue looks of hair out of his face, “I’m sure I look it too.”

“You look handsome as ever,” you ghosted your fingertips along his features, admiring him before he took your hand and brought it to his lips, “Joel.”

“Baby.”

“Let me take a look at you,” you took his chin in your hand as you turned his face towards yours, studying the gash on the side of his head. It wasn’t too deep luckily, didn’t appear to show signs of infection. You’d cleaned it and initially bandaged when you’d first gotten back, despite Joel’s protests that it would be fine regardless. You weren’t willing to take the chance - not when it came to him. He watched you intensely, memorizing the way your lips parted and brow furrowed in concentration, “it’s healing nicely. You’ll just have to leave it alone.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” he teased gently and you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, “what would I ever do without you?”

“Suffer probably,” you touched his cheek before motioning for him to sit up. If anything, you’d probably be suffering without him, “now c’mon, let me take a look at your arm.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, his little bit of drawl coloring his voice as he sat up and leaned against the headboard. You raised an unconvinced eyebrow as you gently reached for his arm. You worked to push up the sleeve of his button, trying your best not to touch him. You had to fight back the sigh of exasperation and worry as you noticed all the bruising on his upperman and elbow, radiating onto his forearm. That had to hurt. He sensed your worry with how quiet you’d gotten, “baby, it’s nothing.”

“Joel, this isn’t nothing,” you frowned deeply, “this looks extremely painful.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“It looks terrible.”

“You should see the other guy,” he joked and you inhaled sharply. Joel quickly realized his gaff, “it’s a joke. You know the…old..saying.”

“You’re lying to me,” you sighed as you tenderly felt his arm, watching the pain contort his features. You were almost positive that nothing was broken - your medical knowledge from having been a nurse before the Outbreak often came in handy, “aren’t you?”

“I am," despite what people thought, he wasn't a good liar. And he most definitely would never lie to you, "how it happened doesn't matter, what matters is that it'll be okay."

"Joel," you sighed quietly, eye wide with worry as you tried to hold back your tears. The idea that something worse could have happened to him maybe you want to cry and hug him and never let him go. This time it was his turn to reach over and touch your face, brushing away the few tears that had pearled up and rolled down your cheeks, "I love you."

"I know," you laughed, throat thick with tears at the fact that he'd just made a horrible joke. He really was a big old nerd underneath it all, "I love you too, baby. That's not going to stop you from working, is it?"

"Never," you insisted, "are you going to let me take care of you?"

"Yes," his answer came without hesitation or underlying conditions as he settled against the pillows and relaxed. 

You shifted so you could move further onto the bed. With a huff you realized that it wasn't going to work so you delicately maneuvered yourself so you were straddling his lap. For a moment you were worried you might have hurt but he remained silent, watching you in reverence. 

Your deft fingers went to the buttons of his shirt and you undid them one by one until you reached the top. You pushed the fabric out of his shoulders and he leaned in so you could pull it off of him, taking care to be gentle on his arm. 

Your fingers instinctively trailed over some freckles, connecting them in affection, along with the scars etched into his golden skin, healed but a forever reminder. He didn't say anything but you could feel his heart beat under your touch.

You leaned in and pressed your lips along his collarbone before taking the hand of his injured arm in yours and lifting it gently. The small hiss of pain that passed his lips wasn’t lost on you, causing your eyes to shift to his until he motioned for you to continue. 

Feeling along the bones, you tried not to push down too much and cause more unnecessary pain. Luckily, it only appeared to be a deep sprain, and a lot of unfortunate bruising. He’d been fine, but he’d be sore for a while. You felt a pang of fear run through you as you noticed the fingerprints within the lavender haze on his skin. 

“It’s okay,” he offered, smart enough to know that you were putting two and two together. You blinked back a fresh wave of tears and shook your head; it wasn’t okay at all. But there wasn’t anything that you could do now except to take care of him. 

“I think you should ice it,” you sniffled, unflinching when he laced your fingers through his. You trailed your eyes down his body and saw the beginnings of bruising along his back and ribs as well. You inhaled sharply but decided not to push him right now. It would be okay, okay, okay. 

“Later,” his voice was gruff but help a tenderness reserved solely for you, “lie down with me.”

“You have to eat-”

“Later.”

“What about a shower-”

“Later,” he used his good hand and gently took your jaw and turned your face towards, “I know you mean well. You always do. But right now, all I want to do is lie down and sleep…with you. Everything else can wait until later.”

“Okay,” you agreed, however reluctant, “turn over then. If you’re going to be so stubborn, the least you can do is be the small spoon.”

He chuckled, that familiar warm sound going straight to start and helping ever so slightly to ease your worry. With a bit of reluctance he turned over and buried his face in the pillows that always seemed to hold onto your scent; it provided more comfort than he would ever admit to. 

You laid down behind him and wrapped your arm gingerly around his waist, making sure not to squeeze too gently. You settled in and pressed kisses to his bare shoulder before closing your eyes and yawning, despite your efforts to hold it in. 

You were more tired than you had imagined and quickly felt your eyes growing heavy and you let yourself become engulfed in his warmth. Eventually his breathing evened out and you relaxed knowing he was finally getting some much needed rest. Maybe a few hours would do both of you some good. 

“I love you, you stubborn fool,” you whispered into the quiet solace of your bedroom. 

“I love you too.”

[mishy-mashy]

Look at how Kudo fell once Yoichi died

Since he fell once Yoichi was shredded by the spatial Ability, it implies he was pulling him along really hard to get away. Once the object you're pulling breaks momentum, you usually fall over because of the displaced force, right?

Like when you pull on a rope and it snaps, so you fall over. Add in the sewer water they're wading through, with all the different motions from multiple people passing through and running, Kudo tripped up on both Yoichi's disappearance and on the heavy water

Well, the water is something I want to consider, but most of it goes toward Kudo pulling Yoichi who is. Suddenly Not There. And this makes him fall over from displaced force.

Bruce is tall, and we can see the water is almost as high as his knees. This is tall water, man. The water could've even stabilized Kudo's feet enough he could catch himself, but he still fell; man knew AFO was dangerous, what he did to Yoichi before, and Kudo wanted Yoichi to RUN

When Kudo fell, the only reason he didn't fall over onto his side was because Bruce happened to be there.

Bruce only noticed and turned around because Kudo happened to fall into his leg. That let Kudo at least sit up, and it's hidden by Kudo's body, but Bruce probably grabbed onto Kudo so he could get up

Look at how Bruce charged up Fa Jin immediately. While Kudo is in shock, Bruce is glaring. The way Bruce stands is different from when he was running earlier

Bruce was absolutely willing to fight AFO here. He realized Kudo fell, and put his foot forward with a charged Fa Jin, literally ready to protect Kudo and fight AFO if needed

(It's in his hand, so I assume that's his main way of using it, because the energy had to have charged beforehand; he had it ready to go. But the fact he charged it at all is what I'm focusing on here)

His foot is ahead of Kudo, he's looming over him to protect him, and his knees are bent to fight and grab onto Kudo; Bruce would've fought AFO for Kudo, even knowing he'd die.

Their first reactions to realizing the situation?

Kudo tears up. Bruce has a glare and is ready to fight.

They both registered the event differently. Kudo is first in shock, and immediately moved to tears, because the first thing he realizes is [Yoichi just died].

As for Bruce, the first thing he registers isn't that Yoichi is missing (he didn't see what Kudo saw; Kudo literally had Yoichi's blood splatter across his face, and Bruce just turns around after the fact), but [AFO is too close to us. This is dangerous.] and prepares to protect Kudo.

They both reacted accordingly to what they saw first. Kudo in shock, and Bruce ready to fight.

Bruce wasn't going to fight AFO until he realized Kudo was in danger when he fell over. He probably noticed Yoichi was missing and likely dead from all the flying blood, but he focused first on dealing with the situation.

Bruce knew Yoichi just died. But if they weren't careful, they'd be next. Kudo was almost next. Bruce didn't see the moment of Yoichi's death, but Kudo did; and Leader got stuck on that first.

***

***

(Also, cutting this out because it's not good enough to make heads or tails of, but

I think Bruce's glare in the sewers is different from the glare he has later fighting AFO one-on-one and dying. My first assumption was it's because he knows Yoichi just died, and that's like enraging to him in the sewers

Although now I'm noticing Bruce is smiling in the second panel below and am now very curious about that. His eyes are just naturally sharp.

[astral--horrorshow]

Around-The-Clock Shadows

Platonic Yandere ROTTMNT x Reader

Info: This will be a full-length fic including multiple ROTTMNT characters, the main storyline revolves around the Mad Dogs.

Fic Summary: You sure are likeable, aren't you?

《Directory》

Chapter 6: A Plan

Characters: Donnie, Mikey, Leo

A/N: So sorry for the short length for such a wait! I was feeling very unmotivated with this chapter, for some reason. Don't worry, though, I have no intention of abandoning this fic! I am going to quit the schedule for it, though. It was an unrealistic standard to hold myself to, and it made me rush the chapters just so I could get them out on time. I'm going to focus on some other writing, but I promise to be better with updating!

If you want to be added to a taglist, just say the word! If you want to draw fanart or make anything based off of this, I would be literally honored. Please don't be shy, I will love whatever you make! If you have any questions about the fic, feel free to ask!

TW: Unhealthy relationships, toxic mindsets, melodrama, unjust frusteration, kidnapping, harsh words

I do not condone any of the behaviors found or done in this fic. This story is purely for entertainment purposes. If you or someone you know is being treated like this, please contact the authorities.

Chapter Summary: Donnie pays you a midnight visit, Mikey and Leo have an argument, and a plan forms in your mind.

Word Count: 899

☆~☆~☆

Your bleary eyes opened, the ceiling swirling around and venturing in and out of your focus. You blinked a few times to see clearly. When the initial drowsiness of a midnight wake-up wore off, you finally noticed how dry your throat and mouth were. The taste of phlegm haunted your every waking millisecond, and so you reached over to the spot on the bedside table where your glass of water was usually kept, where only the fridgid air of the sewer met your outstretched fingers. You looked over in confusion, and sure enough, the glass was missing.

"Don't worry, I have it right here."

You turned towards the voice of Donatello, and sure enough, there he was. He was casually leaning against wall, glass in hand. "It's not good to consume anything old," he said, holding it out towards you. You grabbed it, the sudden chill on your hands almost making your grip loosen. "Be careful, don't spill it," Donnie said. You drank the water, internally sighing in relief as it poured down your dry throat. After lowering it from your lips and placing it on the side table again, Donnie reached towards your face, sitting down on the bed so he could grab your chin and tilt it upwards to stare into your eyes.

"Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Of course I have!" You hadn't. Believe it or not, being kidnapped by mutants would throw off one's sleep schedule in most cases.

"Lower your voice. It's nighttime. And no, you haven't."

"I have..."

"Don't lie to me. I can always tell."

You averted your gaze to the side, embarassed at his callout of your bluff. Donnie simply pushed at your cheek, forcing you to look at him. "Don't act like that. I only want to help you, the only reason that it's not happening is because you're not letting me."

You refused to answer still, nearly making Donatello's irretation bubble up to the surface, but he controlled his temper. Lashing out would only drive you further. Patience was a virtue, his father said.

"Go back to bed. Sleep deprevation can lead to death."

With that, he left you with you with his hyperbolic warning and a half-empty glass of water.

☆~☆~☆

Mikey rolled towards you on a bright orange hoverboard, which was adorned with stickers like his battleshell was. Just as you turned around to see the source of the noise, Mikey plucked you up from off of the ground and held you from under your armpits, arms wrapped around your chest, akin to how one would hold a cat. He traveled with you like that all the way to the kitchen, where he set you down at a barstool at the kitchen island.

You didn’t react at all, not when he picked you up or the whole time he was carrying you. You had grown used to being picked up or dragged along to wherever one of the turtles wanted to bring you. “What’s up, Mikey?” You asked, resting your cheek on the palm of your hand.

“Nothing much,” he said with a grin, “Have you eaten today? You don’t seem like you’ve eaten today. I’ll make you something.” He rambled without letting you get a single word in, already flitting around the kitchen and gathering ingredients and cooking utensils.

As you watched him chop up chicken, Leo strolled into the kitchen with his trademark casual energy. “Hey, party people, what’s up?”

“Makin’ lunch!” Mikey cheerfully chirped at his brother, who seemed chuffed enough with the answer. “Okie doke, then. Anyways,” Leo didn’t further converse with his brother in favor of talking to you, “Have you ever been tubing, hermanito?”

You shook your head, “No, I don’t know how to swim.”

Leo gasped and held his three-fingered hand up to his chest, “Really? Wow, I didn’t realize that nobody loved you enough to teach you how!”

Your eyes widened in shock, and you opened your mouth slightly, tears welling up.

"Leo!" Mikey had abandoned his cooking pursuits to glare at Leo with his hands on his hips.

"What?!" Leo shot back, "You don't agree?"

Mikey's face fell, and he not-so-slickly jerked his head in your direction.

"Don't say it in front of them! It'll hurt their feeling!"

"But it's the truth! We're the only-"

"Stop!"

As the brothers continued to argue, the tears in your eyes spilled down in your cheeks. You quietly sobbed as Leo and Mikey continued to go at eachothers throats.

The brothers ceased their arguing and glanced in your direction after a noticebly loud sob from you, causing looks of regret and guilt to spread across their faces.

"Awe," Leo cooed as he and Mikey approched you with their arms outstretched, "Don't cry, poor baby."

"That's right, Leo didn't mean it," Mikey chimed in, shooting a dirty look at his brother over your head, "Plently of people love you!"

Mikey wiped away your tears as Leo wrapped his arms around your shoulders, hugging you tight. "Don't fret, hermanito. You know what? I can teach you how to swim sometime."

You perked your head up, "You mean, like, at a beach?"

He laughed, "No, silly head! There's plently of water down here!"

An idea blossomed in your mind.

"Like, the sewers?"

"Yeah, it's not as gross as you think!"

The sewers had manholes. Manholes lead outside.

"Alright."

☆~☆~☆

A/N: I'm going to try to write as much as possible in early-mid-august, because I start my sophomore year in a month, and my piano lessons in the fall, so I can have plenty of content to give to ya'll!

Taglist <3: @ssak-i @yanteetle @averagerottmntsimp @oleander-nin @whyiseveryonesodamnfinetho @writelikenobody @takottai @moths-and-mantids

[pango-doots]

Y'know looking back on my time in the NSR fandom it's weird how victimized people tend to make the NSR elites, which I really don't think is warranted beyond Sayu's team and Yinu who are MINORS that were employed into a fascist government system under the guise of success. Yes, NSR was a fascist government, or at the very least an authoritarian hand over a dystopian society.

Even if its general tone is light-hearted and silly, the game tackles themes of propaganda, scapegoating, wealth inequality and planned obsolescence, environmental destruction, media control, saving face for tourists, authoritative voting and more, yet most of them aren't the player's main gameplay focus; a lot of lore and context clues are in the background like the town's layout, interacting with certain objects and talking to NPCs. But those themes are a core message of the game and by only treating the members of NSR as regular old musicians you take out all the nuance.

(Plenty more under the cut. TL;DR: No Straight Roads is a relevantly socio-political game and I wish fans would utilize that side of the characters more)

Both halves of the "music war" as I'm gonna call it for lack of an official term had their faults, and I do like that there is no 100% right or wrong side; no straight road, if you will. BUT ALSO. BBJ realized the entire city was suffering in some way under NSR's leadership and had nothing to lose by challenging the status quo (they literally live in a fucking sewer, I'd be full of rage too). They didn't benefit from initial fame, wealth, or military protection like NSR did; not to mention they were also egged on and decieved by one of their closest allies. When voices don't work ala DK West's attempt, then you turn to action. Action can include smacking the shit out of government officials, as a treat (I enjoyed every second trying to get an S rank in Supernova's level <3)

On that note, the woobification is ESPECIALLY bad with DJSS, Neon J and 1010. I love the silly object heads and smexy robots as much as anyone else but they are specifically meant to be critiques of self-absorbed billionaires (sorry to tell DJSS fans this but he's supposed to be Elon-Musk-adjacent) and the k-pop industry with its military involvement, plus the use of militial force to keep rowdy citizens in line. I'm begging people to PLEASE handle them with more care.

Thankfully, it's clear that NSR reduces its chokehold by the end of the game and all the artists put in a lot of work to improve thanks to BBJ's push. Whether the game's writers made that decision to appeal to their own government's approval or was a genuine end to the story, I like that Tatiana has a moment of reflection and does a complete 180 to make the city better in the end (beyond the threat of the city being destroyed ofc). Even if it's unrealistic, it's a hopeful message and shows that anyone can be corrupted by the right circumstances.

Just PLEASE don't forget the characters' actions and choices along the way for the sake of ship fics and cute art. There's a lot of complexity and angst you can add to the characters with that authoritarian history!

[limepigeon]

Fallen Hero Fanzine 2024 - Info and Theme Poll

All info is under the cut since I don't want to clutter your dash too much! EDIT: Tumblr hates multiple choices for Polls apparently, you can vote but also write in replies (or send anonymous through dm, but please don't send multiple of the same option to get what you want, let's keep it fair!) if you want to vote for more than one option! (Sorry for the inconvenience!)

Hi everyone!

Since I got the feedback on the interest check for a possible Fallen Hero Fanzine it seems like we have some interest and I’ve been looking into various ways we could do this. As I’m big on collaboration and everyone getting a say, I was thinking that deciding on a theme for the zine could be our first collaborative step.

I’ve made a poll (found further down in this post) with 7 options for you to vote on. Descriptions/explanations are found right below the poll so make sure to read those before casting your vote. We’re keeping this first zine sfw, please keep that in mind if suggesting themes of your own. Voting doesn’t tie you to contributing to the zine.

Jumping into something headfirst without knowing what you’ll find on the other side is scary, that’s why I’ve written a short list of what I have in mind for this zine.

The zine will be 100% free and non-profit, this also means no compensation for the contributors. Theme: TBD through majority vote Number of contributors: Max 30 (I would love to have more but, unless someone can help me with admin stuff, I think that’s my limit for how much organising and planning I can do on my own). Rating: SFW. Innuendos, cursing, violence and the like is okay but not straight up sex. Format: Digital/e-zine, with permission to print at home for personal use only. I will put together a bonus version made for easy to print at home, with instructions for how to assemble it. Media types allowed: Any visual media suited for print as long as it’s your own (e.g. illustrations, sketches, photography, collages, short comics, cosplay etc). Keep in mind that if you make a collage or mood board, all pictures must be your own (or have the rights to). Any writing as long as it’s your own (e.g. short stories, poetry, analyses, personal anecdotes etc). Pages in zine per contributor: 2. Time frame and deadlines: TBD but I plan on us having it finished around September/October of 2024, with some reservations.

I hope this has been informative so far, if you have questions you can either reply to this post (so everyone else can see the question and reply), or dm me if you want to be anonymous.

Now, let’s get to voting on a theme! Descriptions for themes under the poll.

Nemesis - More action focused, showdowns, heroes and villains battling it out in their suits! Some softer moments could fit in here as well but if too many opt towards it I might steer some of the submissions to make sure the zine in whole stays on theme. Coming Home - New beginnings, finding your place. It could be sweet and cozy, finding friends, or stepping into your own skin for the first time. Interpret as you like, but the main focus should be on the concept of “home”, whatever that means to you or the characters you choose to portray. Los Diablos - Snippets and snapshots from the city and lives you are sworn to protect or destroy. HG’s lair, Herald’s apartment, or a sewer (sorry, secret base), as well as the people found in these places. Nightmares - The bad vibes (tm) one. The Heartbreak Incident, decanting, paranoia, all the nasty bits you don’t want people to find. This one is open to more possible body horror than the other themes. Ship specific - Pick this one if you want a more romance focused theme, and specify in replies which characters you’d want in centre. Please write Ship Theme before the characters in your reply. I have another idea! - Got an idea for a theme that isn’t in the poll? Pick this one and specify in replies what it is! Please specify even if someone has the same idea, or close to, as you. Please write Theme Suggestion before the theme in your reply. No theme - Don’t feel like sticking to a theme? Want to create an amalgamation of everyone’s mind stuff without any limits or guidelines? This choice is for you.

[nicestgirlonline]

Steal My Sunshine

Pairing: FEDRA!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: noncon elements, abuse of authority, forced relationship DNI if you find these upsetting!

Summary: In the dark, dismal post apocalyptic world, you made the mistake of being a bright spot in Sergeant Barnes's day...

@the-slumberparty Genre's Old and New Warm-Up: Here’s my genre generator warm up and my first entry for the Slumber Party! I got Horror and Authority Figure! I’ve been obsessed with The Last of Us so I decided to go with TLOU themed AU! Very loosely related, no fast fungus zombies in this one. Very excited for the slumber party, can’t wait to hear what you think!

Word count: did my best to try and keep it under 1k since it's just a warm-up, coming in at a cool 1610 words oops

This the first fic I’ve posted to tumblr since high school (yikes) so I’d really love some feedback! 

Enjoy!

“Good morning Sergeant Barnes, ” she said to him with a big smile. It felt so foreign, so antiquated. No one had a good morning in QZ. Sergeant Barnes was awestruck. The line for work assignments was a shit rotation for FEDRA soldiers, he was placed there temporarily after a violent encounter with some civilians. Riding the fucking desk for three weeks before he could go back to enforcement duties. 

But when She showed up in line, it was like he was seeing the sun for the first time. She glowed, with beauty and goodness. He wanted to sit and bask in her warmth forever. He was lost in his mind, She stood awkwardly in line, shifting from side to side hoping to hurry him along. 

“Uh, good morning. Sorry, what were you looking for?” Realizing he was staring at her, he glanced down at his ledger of jobs they needed bodies for. 

“Are there any street cleaning jobs left?” She asked so sweetly Bucky thought he’d cry. The only jobs that were open were all disgusting, body disposal, sewer work, scrap collection.  A woman like her shouldn’t be doing such filthy work. 

“We have an opening at City Hall. Clerk work. Pays well.”

“Oh, I’ve never done clerk work before um, will I need any training?” She placed her hand over her mouth to cover her surprise but Bucky could see right through that. She was so pleased, that he had gotten her the job. He quickly erased a few things, sorry Citizen Abernathy, he was no longer getting into city hall. She handed him her citizenship papers, he gripped them like they were precious jewels. He memorized her name, her address, her previous jobs. Most importantly, where his eyes went first, Marital status: single

With a bit of a spring in her step she left the line, all her official work assignments clutched to her chest.  Bucky couldn’t help but watch her as she left. Her little skip made her ass jiggle, he grinned to himself. The next citizen in line cleared their throat. The older woman glared at him for his lewd behavior. His mouth returned to its usual scowl. This was the world he was used to. No sunshine in here. 

+++

Street patrols with Steve were usually just a lot of bullshitting. Steve and Bucky would stroll together, recounting old war stories with clickers or encounters with the Fireflies. There were hardly any domestic disturbances here, the Fireflies little resistance movement had all been stomped out thanks largely in part to the two of them. Their unit had been deep in the shit at the Manhattan QZ before being moved to Pittsburgh QZ to set it straight. Now that things had been smoothed out it was the most depressing place they could’ve been reassigned to. 

“Better than Boston,” Steve would always say that made Bucky roll his eyes. He wasn’t wrong though. The two were walking along the repaved main street, walking past the long lines for rations at the local store. Bucky looked at all the glum, resigned faces. This was the world they all lived in now. What was the point of keeping this world safe if this was all they would have?

But then, like the sun peaking out from behind gray clouds, he saw Her. His Sunshine! 

She was leaving the store with a large paper bag, almost skipping again. She had a smile on her face again. He could see himself, walking arm and arm with his sunshine, bringing food home for dinner. He would hold her close and whisper all the things he’d do to her once they got back. She would shyly bat her eyelashes, so embarrassed by his lusty proposals in public. His heart began to swell. Part of him knew it was strange, he had barely spoken to this girl, yet a fiery passion consumed him. It had been years of nothing but violence and fighting for him. Sometimes he barely felt human himself, but she made him feel alive again.

“...could hardly believe the size of this one, barely even human just a face, and the rest was fungus covering the floor. Buck? You listening to me Buck?” Steve elbowed his friend who was lost in his thoughts. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sounds real gnarly.” He brushed his friend off, he headed straight towards his Sunshine. “That citizen looks suspicious to you? I think we need a random search.” Steve just raised an eyebrow and followed his partner, happy to have a little action on the usual boring patrol. 

+++

Your week-long stint at City Hall had given you extra spending money for the first time since you could remember. You couldn’t help but walk with a little bounce in your step, what crazy luck you’d had.

Two Fedra soldiers, both in full tactical gear, machine guns strapped to their sides were approaching you. You froze in place as their steel-toed boots stopped directly in front of you. 

“Excuse me, citizens.” The soldier’s timbre was low and serious. You were not a troublemaker, you only ever had contraband at parties never actually on your person. 

“I-Is there a problem?” You asked as sweetly as you could. You met the icy blue eyes of the officer who smirked. You looked down at the name on his chest, Sergeant Barnes? From work assignment?  One hand on his gun still, he reached out the other hand towards you. 

“Identification please.” He requested. You placed down your bag of food only for the other soldier to snatch it up. You reached for your purse and pulled out your citizenship card. Barnes grabbed it with a flourish.

“Hey!” You cried out as the blond one started to go through your food for the week, a can of beans falling to cobblestones and denting. 

“Random checkpoint. You’re not resisting us are you?” He asked, his tone dripping with smug victory. You bunched your hands into fists trying to stay calm. 

“Officers, please what’s wrong?” Sergeant Barnes chuckled. He went to hand you back your ID but pulled it away in the second from your grasp. 

“There have been a couple of red flags on your paperwork. We are just doing our due diligence to keep the QZ safe. Now, I’m sorry ma’am but I’m going to need you to come with me.” He grabbed you by the arm, his partner still holding onto your groceries. He pulled you off into an alleyway where he slammed you roughly against the brick building. You winced and went to grab the back of your head as sharp pain began to bloom. 

“There must be a mistake I-I haven’t done anything.” Tears began to blot your eyes. You raked your brain trying to think of what could have caused a red flag. You had smoked weed once at a party, which wasn’t even a Firefly party as far as you knew, you kept out of trouble. 

Barnes began to nuzzle the side of your face, his nose tracing along your cheek to your hair. He deeply inhaled, the sudden air tickling your ears. 

“I know Sunshine, I know, you're a good girl aren’t you.” He breathed. Your blood froze in your veins. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the wall above your head. “There are a few red flags though. Like, your marital status is single. No boyfriend then? Why would a beautiful young woman be all alone, at the end of the world? Unless you’re too focused on revolutionary activities to find a man.” He wasn’t making any sense. You weren’t a rebel, you were just a poor street cleaner, you didn’t have a black mark on your record, you didn’t even have messages to send out to the other QZs.  You feared you knew his true intentions. 

“Sergeant Barnes --”

“Call me Bucky.” He gave you a wink that sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Bucky, I don’t have a boyfriend but not because I’m a Firefly. I-If you let me go I swear you’ll never see me again, I’ll be so straight and narrow I’ll be invisible, you don’t have to worry about me.”

He clicked his tongue. “I don’t think you understand Sunshine. The last thing I want is to never see you again.” That was what you had feared. “You see, it's not me that’s suspicious of you angel, it's my partner back there. So how about I give you hand here.”

His hand slipped down and groped at your breasts, your breath hitched in your throat as you suppressed a whine. Bucky looked deliriously happy. He looked into your eyes and you were frightened at how intense they were. 

“How about you and I start going together, much less suspicious for a woman to be dating an officer of the law. You wouldn’t have a moral objection to that right?”

You nodded your head. What else could you do? His eyes sparked with excitement as you agreed to his bargain. 

“Why not have our first date right now, since you’re free.” He began to fiddle with his belt and you squeezed your eyes shut so he wouldn’t be able to see your tears. 

You thought there was no way life could get worse since the outbreak. You were wrong. Your fate has been sealed the moment you smiled at this deranged, lonely man.