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renofmanyalts · 9 months

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(moods) Wistful for Emerik/any

Send me a mood and I will tell you how my character deals with it.

Prompt 1 (Make-up Day): Envoy

Who: Emerik Liubasch, Semir (original NPC)

What: Emerik must lighten his pack.

Where: A rail yard on the outskirts of Martrvje, a port city in occupied Bozja.

When: About two years before the events of the Bozjan Southern Front field operation began. Takes place a few months after this piece [Mature community label, requires login].

Content notes: Garlean colonial oppression, refugee struggles, partings in wartime, mentioned injury/abuse

Music: "Intro (The Envoy)" and "Outro (What It Means to Be Human)" by Being as an Ocean (both instrumental)

When a soft knock sounded at the door of the railroad car, a faint murmur of concern rippled through the two dozen heads scattered amongst the stacks of crates. Emerik's heart thudded in his chest, fur standing on end as he uncrossed his arms. He felt Semir do the same beside him, their elbows brushing.

The boxcar was still at rest, one freight car among many in a long train waiting to leave the rail yard on the outskirts of the city. Had they been discovered? His fingers itched for the smooth wood of his staff, but it, like nearly everything else he owned, had been left behind. It would have been foolishness, in any case, bringing a weapon — no matter how simple. Emerik tugged at the cuffs on his borrowed jacket, the final piece of a traveling outfit intended to soften his features, to render him polished and nonthreatening.

After an eternity of rapid heartbeats, the door slid open a few ilms, a sliver of just-bluing sky showing around the silhouette of a hrothgar with one ragged ear. Emerik relaxed a fraction. That was their contact — the member of the Resistance that Semir had nodded to in a coffee shop four sennights ago, setting all this in motion. Emerik did not know his name. Gods willing, he would keep it that way.

The partisan pulled the door further open on well-oiled, silent tracks, climbed nimbly up onto the deck, and slid it closed again. The darkness returned.

"Bad news," the soldier said, speaking quietly. His voice sounded young. It had surprised Emerik when they first met, and it still seemed incongruous now. "We were given old information, and the expected gross weight for this car is slated to be a half-tonze less than we had accounted for. We have to reduce weight, or the Garleans will notice the discrepancy the minute we pass through the first checkpoint."

"Will... will someone have to get off the train?" The hesitant voice came from somewhere left of the door — the mother with her two young ones, Emerik thought. The little family had been huddled together when he and Semir had arrived at the rail yard, the children sleeping with their mother's skirts wrapped around their shoulders. Emerik could picture Semir's deep frown when he'd seen the swollen bruises on her face.

The soldier's voice took on an apologetic tone beneath his urgency. "Maybe. But I am hoping that we can reduce baggage weight, instead. Please go through your luggage and remove anything that is not absolutely essential to your survival on the trip, as well as anything that is particularly heavy."

Worried whispers rose in the darkness, and the soldier continued:

"This is not an easy task, I know, and I am sorry that I must ask it of you. You number twenty-four, so we need to eliminate more than forty ponzes of weight per person. Keep your necessary medicine, food and water, your identification papers, and money. Put it in a pillowcase or wrap it in a cloth to carry it. If you have jewelry, keep whatever you can hide on your person, and whatever clothes you can put on, plus a blanket and pillow each. Everything else, including your trunks and cases, please separate it out and set it by the door. Quietly and quickly, please."

"What will happen to our belongings?" That was the voice of an older man with an accent speaking of the wealthier parts of the city. He was accompanied by a young woman Semir figured for his daughter, though Emerik was not so sure.

"I'm afraid they will probably be destroyed. We cannot hide them here, and we have no way to get them to you once you have left, so we will have to dispose of them quickly — most likely in the river."

For a long moment, dead silence reigned. Emerik's thoughts drifted to the contents of his leather suitcase. What clothes he had, he wore — and some that weren't his, besides. He had no jewelry nor medicine, and all his earthly wealth sat in a pouch strapped below his shirt. Everything else had been sold in haste. Semir carried only their sack of shared provisions; there was nothing there to shed.

The suitcase, though.... It held a full dresser drawer's worth of treasure: a tin of long beeswax tapers, their wicks still conjoined; more than a dozen large blocks of herbal soaps, their paper wrappings labeled in his grandmother's handwriting. They sat heavy between his feet — heavier still with their role as the last fragments of his family's traditions.

The soap would sink easily in the river, he thought. Old as they were, the bars would dissolve slowly, and their flecks of rosemary, chamomile, marjoram would be carried away by the current.

The candles would float. Maybe some curious animal would eat them, or maybe some enterprising young scavenger would find them first. After decades hidden away, maybe they would finally have their chance to burn.

Someone flicked on a magitek torch. Cold, blue light washed thinly over the boxcar's high ceiling. The other occupants sprang into startled motion, flinging open trunks and boxes with grim purpose.

At a touch to his elbow, Emerik turned to meet his friend's eyes. Semir wore an expression of gentle concern

"That is your whole purpose in going, is it not?" he said, nodding to the suitcase.

Emerik directed his gaze across the dim train car and nodded. (The stack of discarded belongings at the door was growing, but only very slowly. "I must ask you to be ruthless," the Resistance soldier said. Panic fluttered at the edges of his too-young voice. "The train departs in just over a quarter bell.")

Ruthless?

Emerik bent to snatch up the suitcase. He could do nothing but rue its loss — but there were lives on the line. What use a people's healing traditions without a people to use them?

But before he could step out from the bulkhead, Semir stopped him, one tawny hand laid lightly on Emerik's dark one. Emerik shot him a questioning glance, and Semir leaned down to speak into his ear.

"It's not going to be enough." Semir gestured toward the pile near the door. Still growing, but nowhere near a half-tonze. "Most of these folk didn't have forty ponzes of sentiment to pack. Even if everyone trims the fat, they're going to have to send some of us away. At least one."

Emerik narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying, Semir."

Semir closed his fingers around the handle of the suitcase. In the light of the Garlean torch, his golden eyes held none of their usual luster. "Let me hold these for you. When you get where you're going, send a letter, yes? I'll get them to you."

"But—"

"I know. I thought we would travel together, too. We—" Semir stopped, swallowed.

(We three as one, the sentence finished in Emerik's mind, his own voice raised in chorus with Semir and Vuk. But they hadn't been three for some moons now.)

Emerik pushed the thought away. Semir was speaking again, so close that his breath stirred the fur-tufts in Emerik's ear.

"I have connections," he insisted, nodding meaningfully to the increasingly-fretful partisan. "There's good I can do here. But you?" Semir tapped one finger against Emerik's forehead. "You have the memories — and the drive to chase down the knowledge needed to resurrect them. And with that blond bastard" — Emerik flinched — "nipping at your hocks? Best not to wait for the next run."

Emerik ducked his head. He could feel his pulse thudding in his throat.

With a snarl, he shoved the suitcase into Semir's arms, then snapped his teeth shut before any other sound could escape. Leaning forward, he thumped his forehead into Semir's solid shoulder.

Emerik felt Semir nose at his mane, and he could guess that he was smiling; when he murmured, "Keep my jacket safe for me," Emerik was certain of it. Then Semir pulled away, threading through the chaos. After a short exchange with the Resistance partisan — who looked rather relieved — he moved toward the sliding door.

"Semir—"

Semir twisted to look at him, still cradling the suitcase to his chest.

Emerik forced himself to meet his friend's eyes, trying not to think about the last time he had looked into Vuk's. "If you don't hear from me within a few moons," he managed, "or if things get bad... use whatever you need, if it will help."

Semir nodded. A blink, and he was slipping out of the boxcar door, climbing out into the twilight.

Emerik bent to pick up the sack of provisions and settled it between his feet. It, too, sat heavy.

With a sigh, Emerik nudged the sack into a corner. He pushed up his sleeves, then went to help hand the surrendered belongings down to those waiting to take them away.

—

At this stage in his life — before he had come to Eorzea — Emerik was prone to falling into black, destructive moods rather than wistful ones, and also tended not to express much of that if he could avoid it. Now that he is out from under the direct weight of the Garlean occupation, however, he's settled into some measure of acceptance and is better able to attend to such feelings as gentle melancholy and yearning.

—

I sorta ran myself out of spoons yesterday and so I really struggled today. The length also got away from me, but I sure did learn a lot in all my diving down research rabbit holes! Got a bunch of Bozja lore and stuff settled and obviously filled in more details of Emerik's backstory. I've also just decided to give myself a fair bit of grace about that daily deadline, because the point is NOT to stress myself out — thus posting this about, mm, three hours late. XD

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv rp #mateus #mateus rp #meme #answers #send me a mood #emerik #long post #ren writing #thanks for the ask!#menord #also thanks go to don pom for getting out the plot trampoline for me #that successfully got me unstuck \o/

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mrdrhenwardhykle · 11 months

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Here's the collection of the different types of commissions and their prices.

Here's some examples as well!

$25 B&W sketch commission no background

$45 sketch with color, a minimal background and no shading or rendering

(you can choose to not have a background, it's not required)

$95 Illustration with color, background, shading, but not fully rendered

$150 fully detailed and rendered colored illustration

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soupy-harry · 2 years

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Clint Eastwood and Don Siegel on set of Coogan's Bluff, 1968 [X]

#clint eastwood #don siegel #1968 #60s #b/w #photo #on set #CE archive #pom #coogan's bluff #my post

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nicxl333 · 10 months

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JADE ABACUS— JING YUAN X READER

what happens when you use the jade abacus for the wrong purpose? (contains spoilers from the 1.3 update)

tags: 18+ content, nsfw, reader is not the trailblazer, masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (reader receiving), reader is described to have a vagina (afab), fluff, praise kink, breeding, unprotected sex

first hsr oneshot hope it’s good! (also it’s late so i haven’t proof read this very well)

word count: 2.3k

“the same is true of this jade abacus- it is a record of the luofu cloud knights’ promise to the crew of the astral express. it is also a beacon- grip it tightly, and it will send a message to the jade abacus here in my hand. no matter how astronomically distant you are, the luofu cloud knights will always come to the aid of the crew, whatever your need may be.”

after saying your goodbyes to everyone on the xianzhou, you, welt, dan heng, march 7th and stelle/caelus made your way back onto the astral express, ready to warp to penacony the next day. after conversing with himeko and bickering with pom pom you said your goodnights and turned in for the evening.

truth be told you were slightly disheartened that you’d be leaving the xianzhou, having made so many new friends.

some, more friendly than others.

while there were many very good looking individuals residing on the luofu, one particular individual caught your eye; the high and mighty general himself.

it was something about him that drew you to him, like a moth to a single flame. maybe his smug confidence, his ability to control a crowd, or his handsome looks with his piercing eyes that could make your cunt gush within seconds. who knows, it was probably all those factors combined. either way, the attraction was there and steadily growing.

as you undressed to don yourself in your nightwear, you emptied your pockets to place your clothing in the laundry. your contents contained some trinkets here and there, and the jade abacus, which you were entrusted to hold for some unknown reason. you placed the jade abacus on your bed, meaning to look at it in greater detail once you were fully clothed.

once finished you lay in your bed, picking up your phone from the side table to scroll through any missed messages. puzzling enough, the most recent message at the top was from none other than general jing yuan.

wondering what he could possibly need (considering he rarely texted) you opened the message.

“good evening y/n, i hope this message finds you well. i realised i didn’t have the chance to bid you in particular a proper farewell, my deepest apologies. in good reparational faith i would like to make it up to you with a meal the next time you’re on the ship, on me.”

fuck knows how, but knowing that he specifically had you on his mind made you honoured, and strangely enough, horny. your mind flooded with thoughts that were downright filthy of what he could do to you should you have the chance to be alone.

he would probably take his time with you, pulling orgasm after orgasm just from his fingers alone, before he would even grace you with his cock. it only took a few different conjured up scenarios for you to have your hands snaking down to pull off your shorts, your fingers immediately stuffing your cunt full, stifling a moan at the ecstasy.

overtaken by the urge to cum you plunged your fingers in and out, scissoring and curling your fingers up against that spongey spot that made you see stars. your eyes rolled back, your back arched and your voice stayed stuck in your throat, chained by your slipping rationality which warred with your spiralling composure. you could feel the heat inside your core as your fingers continued their attack, creating a resounding ‘shwick! shwick!’ which bounced off the walls. your eyes were scrunched, your mind revelling in the scene of jing yuan pounding into your sopping cunt.

you were far gone, way too far gone to notice the quiet pads of feet along your carpet, moving towards the armchair in the corner of your room which faced your bed, and your quickly dishevelling figure. the figure sat on the armchair, sinking into the soft material as he witnessed your sinful performance.

you, none the wiser, continued to guide yourself towards your high, your moans becoming more and more harder to stifle as you completely succumbed to the lust, delirious with pleasure.

“f-fuck! jing yuan, please!” whispered pleas tumbled out of your mouth, wafting in the air till they reached his ears. he parted his legs slightly to ease his oncoming erection, letting his hand prop up his head, as his elbow rested on the arm of the armchair.

you neared your peak, your fingers burning in pain as you furiously pumped to reach your end. your free hand left your mouth and gripped your tit, playing with the peaked nipple to ease the overwhelming feeling you were experiencing.

with a final call of his name, (which was slightly louder than you would’ve liked) your body jolted and shook as you reached an earth shattering orgasm. you convulsed as you came which was probably the hardest you ever had cum before, letting the aftershocks subside.

you suddenly became aware of something poking at your back. you retracted your fingers from your cunt and retrieved the item, seeing the jade abacus in your hand, having accidentally moved underneath your body during your…activities. you then recalled the words jing yuan told your group about gripping the abacus tightly, hoping and praying your recent actions had not triggered a call- still unbeknownst to the figure who had already been summoned, to your dismay.

“that was quite the show, y/n-”

you stiffened at the deep, powerful voice of jing yuan, perched in your armchair, staring at you with something distinguishable as lust.

“-however, i do recall warning that the abacus shouldn’t be used for inappropriate circumstances, no matter how amusing that circumstance may be.”

you were stunned into silence, riddled with shame and hushed with guilt. there was simply no rational explanation for this as you were half naked in front of him. and you had no knowledge of exactly what point he entered your room, therefore meaning you had no idea just how long he’d been watching, although evident that he had been in the room long enough to make himself comfortable on that damned armchair.

“cat got your tongue? seems like i’ll have to administer your punishment first.”

by this point he had risen, beginning to take off his boots and the numerous straps and harnesses that made up his uniform. he then took off his tight shirt, leaving him in his red pants, while crossing the short distance to your bed, raising your hand which was wet with arousal, lifting it to his mouth and giving your index and ring finger a long lick.

“i… uh-”

“hush. naughty minxes like you do not deserve to speak. lay back and spread your legs. i will not ask twice.”

although confused and befuddled you followed his command, not expecting events to turn out like this, not that you were complaining. he lowered his face so he was level with your dripping cunt, observing it as your cum dripped out.

you lifted your head slightly to see why he stalled, feeling a tad bit self conscious. all thoughts flew out of your head however once you felt him lick a long stripe from your cunt to your clit. you instantly mewled at the sensation, hands finding purchase in jing yuan’s hair, gripping lightly, to which he grunted at.

he rose to look at you, amber eyes boring into your own. “if you’re too loud, i’ll stop. we wouldn’t want to wake up your fellow crew now, would you?”

you shook your head vigorously, wanting anything but him to stop in this moment, knowing that this could potentially lead to you getting the fuck of your life. fat chance in hell you would cockblock yourself.

he hummed at your silence, lowering himself back down and resuming again. his tongue swirled around your clit, paying close attention to the bud. he then moved down to your pulsing hole, plunging his tongue in and out and slurping at the soaked flesh. one hand left his head and rose to your mouth to stifle any noises from leaving it. as if it weren’t enough, jing yuan let his mouth leave your cunt, his fingers immediately integrating into the mix, while his mouth moved back up to your clit, this time sucking on it. your eyes rolled back, hips grinding against his tongue to gain more of the sensation.

his fingers were thick and long, reaching further into your core than your own smaller fingers could ever hope to reach. as his assault on your slobbering cunt continued you started clenching down harder on him, signalling that you were about to cum again for the second time that night. your hips ground in circles, the heat inside you blazing hotter with each push of his fingers, the coil tightening until it could resist no longer, and snapped.

your body convulsed once more, even more so once you registered that jing yuan wasn’t letting up on his ministrations, and pulling you into a state of overstimulation.

“shit! jing yuan- oh my god!”

he groaned at the sound of your moans calling for him, using the bed sheets below him to grind against for some semblance of relief for his now raging hard-on.

once he had enough he rose once more, raising his soaked hand to your mouth.

“suck.”

you obliged, wrapping your tongue around his digits, sucking slowly while looking directly into his eyes, unaware of just how much you were affecting him.

“god you’re so sinful.” he groaned, moving his hands to his pants to unbutton them, hastily slipping them off, along with his boxers, leaving him bare, sporting a very large prominent erection. the mushroom tip was flushed with an angry pink, pre cum dripping at the tip. his length had two large main veins running down it before branching off into little tributary like veins.

you but your lip at the sheer size, hoping you could take him all. even with all the prep you had it still looked like a tight fit. he was insanely girthy with an impressive length to match.

this led to a quiet chuckle from jing yuan.

“don’t look so apprehensive, i’ll go slow.”

smug bastard.

he lifted your legs, bringing them down, down, down towards your shoulders. a mating press. your breath hitched at the realisation, knowing that he was about to fuck up your insides.

“take a deep breath, kitten.”

you took a slow inhale, feeling the tip breach your opening, pushing past and spreading your walls to all opposite ends. the stinging sensation was immediate, his dick stuffing you to the brim, more than his fingers managed to. you instantly gripped his shoulders, lifting your head to bite into his left, thus stifling a pain wrenching moan. many sensations flowed through your body, specifically pain at having never taken a size quite like jing yuan’s before. tears pricked the corners of your eyes before trailing down and staining your cheeks.

he hushed you, wiping the tears away before stroking the hair away from your face, looking at you with adoration and care, forgetting all about the ‘punishment’ he was supposed to give in that moment.

“are you okay? do you need me to pull out?”

you shook your head, lacing your fingers in his hair, and smiling softly.

“no, just give me a moment.”

he nodded, massaging your hips to help you get used to the feeling.

“you feel so good, you’re doing so well for me my treasure. i’ll take care of you soon.”

after a few minutes of adjustment, the pain faded and replaced itself with yearning and pleasure. you started grinding your hips against his, making him see the picture. he pulled out slowly till around halfway, then gently pushed back in.

you let out a small gasp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and whining, edging him to go faster.

he obliged, picking up the pace gradually until the room was filled with soft sounds of repeated ‘paps’. your lips connected with his, tongues dancing in a sloppy rhythm, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth, doing little to muffle the moans and groans entangling in your mouths.

even at such a close proximity you felt incredibly needy, needing him closer and closer to you.

noticing you lose yourself, jing yuan laced his hand in yours, against the bedsheets.

“i’m right here, my love.”

truth be told even jing yuan was struggling to keep himself composed too. your fiery nature around protecting the ones you cared for gave him a sense of familiarity with his duties as general, forever protecting the people of the xianzhou luofu. not only that though, your sense of humour and your witty remarks really captivated him during the times you had together. in his hundreds of years of living, no one caught his attention quite like you did. especially with the way you got along so nicely with yanqing. considering the fact he was practically considered as his son, seeing the two of you bond warmed his heart in ways indecipherable. so, realising that you would be leaving to travel onwards really left a gape in his life that you had just started to piece together.

he gripped your hand tighter, moving with more vigour and urgency, wanting to hold you in his arms forever.

“j-jing yuan-”

“my love?”

“i’m gonna cum-!”

“so do it, cover me with your essence, i’ve got you, always.”

his words carried you to the end and you came all over him, legs tightening against his sides, trapping him inside your cunt. his hips instantly stuttered, losing rhythm and his groans became impossibly deeper, until he eventually spilled his cum all into you, complete with each other.

all was silent for a moment, as both parties recovered from the overwhelming orgasms. jing yuan pulled out and rolled off of you, pulling you into his chest and closing his eyes.

“y/n. stay with me. just for tonight.”

#jing yuan #jing yuan x gender neutral reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader smut #honkai star rail #hsr jing yuan #hsr x reader #hsr smut #jing yuan star rail #jing yuan smut #jing yuan scenarios #honkai x reader #honkai star rail smut #nicxl333 #nicxl333writes #general jing yuan

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riaki · 6 months

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santa claus and his treats | satoru gojo x f!reader pt.1 of christmas event! wc: 3.4k oops i went overboard | cw: petnames, literally j pure fluff ur both STUPID in love, he’s the cutest! happy birthday pretty boy 🧸

"'toru?" you called, voice filling the dimly lit room as you peeked your head in through the door. the curtains were drawn, the iridescent green tinsel dotted with soft yellow lights framing the doorway of your bedroom scratching your neck as you spotted the white-haired boy sitting on your shared bed, picking at something on his lower lip.

you took a moment to drink in the sight— his soft white hair that fell over dazzling sky-blue eyes, the color of the lake dotted with fragile crystalline snowflakes that melted into fresh spring streams that fed nature with new growth and fresh flower buds, a tangible warmth when his gaze fell on you and an easy smile stretched across his pink lips. a little too easy, you think. easy enough for you to miss the way he swipes a coffee brown crumb from his cheek; the smile has too much sugar and cream for you to buy it.

your eyes slowly drift from his charming grin to the rest of the room. there's a forest green tuft of leaves hanging from the ceiling on a thin golden string; you recognize the crimson red berries and waxed leaves with spots of pearl dotting as a bunch of mistletoe, hanging right over the mattress. clearly, he thought ahead.

you snuff the flush from your cheeks as he perks up at the sight of you, straightening his back. "hey, baby! you must be my present from santa this year," he laughs, holding his arms out, an invitation for you to crawl into his arms and curl up on his lap like two warm cats by the fireplace. you almost gave in— until you remembered why you were looking for him.

"you're getting coal this time, satoru." you said, huffing as you walked over to the mattress and put your hands on your hips, attempting to come off as intimidating in front of your boyfriend as you leaned over and stared down at him. he just giggled that sweet, boyish laughter of his, scooting closer and capturing you between two strong arms to tug you onto the bed with him. the sheets were soft, and they smelled like him as he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you like a life-sized plushie, all warmth and soft comfort that he craved so much.

"aww, really? but it's my birthday today," he sighed loudly, shaking his head as he firmly planted his hands on either side of your head to prevent you from worming away and planting a loud smooch on the top of your hair, before laughing as you pulled away from his grasp and gave him a glare. “besides, you’re anything but a bad gift.” he smiles.

“don’t sweet talk me, ‘toru. you’ve been naughty this year.” he wiggles his eyebrows at that, and you shoot him a sharp glare which just earns you a light scoff, but there’s a smile mirrored on both of your lips.

(maybe they’ve met so many times in the past that they know how to copy the other flawlessly.)

"but you're already here, my love. lookin' all pretty like the angel on top of our tree." he hums, crossing his legs and holding his ankles as he rocks back and forth; the teddy bear he won you from the arcade on your first date is face planted into the pillows by his side, donning a festive red santa hat. the white fluffy pom pom looks like satoru's hair, and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

"how kind of you, satoru." and you mean it— he looks like his own christmas angel; snowy hair and pretty blue eyes clad in a loose black tee with cheap printed red and green christmas lights over his chest. he looks unfairly attractive with those gray sweatpants on, too. you wouldn't mind wrapping him up in yellow ribbon and presenting him to your parents this year as your holiday present from santa, and then having your own fun with him later. you suppose you must've been perfectly good to land him; so pretty and fun, bubbling laughter that speaks of his care in volumes. and he’s their soon-to-be son-in-law, after all. and he’s a golden catch.

but it’s time for this white betta to be put in his place; he’s gone snooping where he shouldn’t have— or rather, scavenging would be the more appropriate choice. and he’s about to be skinned for entering the lion(fish)'s den. your matching red-green plaid pajama pants won't save him this time.

"sorry, baby, but you can't talk yourself out of this one." you said firmly, scooting closer to him as you sat back on your knees and gave him a look as pointed and narrow as the icicles melting on the frosted awnings. to anyone else, you might look like a wet, angry cat— but to satoru, it was enough to strike fear straight into the center of his heart. his fight-or-flight response kicked in (it only ever did with you)— and it was as if you could see the change in his demeanor. his eyes voluntarily softened, lids drooping as a lazy smile drifted over his lips like fluffy white clouds over a pale sun on a winter's morning.

"aww, don't be like that. my princess looks so much prettier when she's happy," he coos, all milk and honey as he reaches out and catches your wrist, rubbing his thumb over your pulse beating beneath your soft skin as he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. so he chooses to fight, and you almost fold— almost.

you twist your arm in his grasp, eliciting a whiny yelp of pain; getting him to let go of you as you quickly flick his forehead. even so, he lets you-- he never turns infinity on around you, even at the price of his own sanctity.

you sighed when he gave you a dramatic pout, sticking out his bottom lip as he hung his head low in defeat like a golden retriever being scolded by his owner, soft hair falling over his pretty blues. his hands come up to cradle his head, rubbing the spot where you'd knicked him. "don't play around, satoru. where are the cookies i baked last night?" you asked, reflecting his frown with a pointed glare. if looks could cut, he'd be a red christmas on the cloudlike sheets. you were tired of beating around the bush, especially when satoru had a knack for making it utterly exhausting. nevertheless, it went on.

"maybe santa came early," he quipped, giggling at his own joke. "you never know, huh? he's an unpredictable old geezer. likes his milk and cookies, or so i heard."

"didn't know santa claus had the six eyes." you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest and looking him square in the eyes. "and he shaved his beard off, apparently." he feigns hurt, holding a hand over his heart in mock anguish.

"i'm no thief! it hurts me to know you think of me so low, sweetheart." he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. outside, the snowy wind howls in agreement. "besides, it's my birthday. you're suffocating the spirit, honey." he drawls.

you just roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms and shifting to sit closer to him. you will your irritated expression to soften, and it's reflected in the way satoru immediately relaxes, shoulders sagging as the anxious look in his eyes vanishes like the wilting ghost of fall on a christmas eve, leaving behind the scent of bluebells and frost on the wind. he thinks you've forgiven him.

that's just what you need. for him to let his guard down so you can spring the trap on him. santa may be able to get away with his yearly trespassing, but satoru's entered the property of more than your heart this time, and it's time for his holiday retribution.

"give me your hand, satoru." you said softly, voice barely a breath above a whisper. he obliges almost immediately, scooting closer on the bed so that his knees graze against yours, and you hear him suck in a little breath at the contact as your hand finds his.

you take his palm in your own; his hands are considerably bigger than yours, but you still manage to run a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles, gently massaging the soft skin over weary bones. a sweet little noise leaves his breathless lips; it's almost like a purr, and when you glance up at him he's almost as red as the glittering velvet bulbs dangling from the primmed branches of your christmas tree. he looks away, a subtle pout weighing down on his lips as he coughs loudly, as if the amber sap of a pine tree has caught in his throat, scratchy like tree bark.

"what are you doing?" he whispers, voice rough and hoarse, like someone took a fireplace stoker and poked his throat. almost a protest.

but you can feel him melting into you, and soon enough, he’s sandwiched you between his warmth and the fluffy blankets, the scent of apples and cinnamon weaved between the strands of his soft white hair as they tickle your flushed skin. his lips are soft and pliant and warm against your own; he's all over you, hands finding your wrists to trace tender, wobbly circles over your thrumming pulse with his thumb. he's robbing your lungs of air, needy in the way he cages you between his lanky limbs, lock and key with his free hand threading through your hair. he can never get enough of you, and he throws his inhibitions to the frostbitten wind if they mean learning to resist you.

it's spread around you like ripples on the surface of a misty lake, and when he draws away to stare down at you, eyes blown wide with a certain shine in his eye that reminds you of glowing embers, jumping from the lively blossom of fire on the grated dark metal of a hearth, there's a cheeky lopsided grin on his glossy lips. his fingers are slender, pale and callused, a gentle flushed at the tips.

"there was a mistletoe," he says breathlessly, as if that'll excuse him. as if he needs an excuse to kiss you. you just laugh, reaching up to trace his jaw with a finger, and he shudders despite the heater inside your room. the bunch of green leaves and red berries hanging above you sways in agreement.

but you can't focus on the dreamy look on his face; that lazy smile that dances over his lips and illuminates his features like twinkling christmas lights catching on each edge of a carefully cut snowflake, the sky's jewels. every time he looks at you as if you've crafted each intricacy of his world; patched the colors together and taught the light to reflect, you feel as though there are bubbles in your throat, and you have to cough them away when they're accompanied by a familiar rush of heat to your face.

it's all overpowered. strongly, by the rich taste of cinnamon. rich, sweet, distinctly festive, mixed with brown sugar and cookie batter; flour on the matching aprons satoru bought for the two of you, except the 'he' on 'he cooks' has been messily crossed out and replaced with a scribble that says 'she', and vice versa. it's on his tongue, his lips, the little dips on the corner of his mouth that makes him look like a kitten every time he grins. it tastes like wearing matching christmas sweaters, sampling sweet treats fresh out of the oven and laughing cheerily in your little cozy kitchen of warmth when he burns his tongue, a sour look on his face that wrinkles his nosebridge.

but, most importantly, it tastes like condemnation.

you sit up, briefly (and painfully) knocking foreheads with him when he's too slow to mirror your actions, but the complaint that's ready to stain the air like chimney soot dies on his tongue when he sees the look on your face. you look the same as you did the first time you found out he'd forgotten to pick up megumi and tsumiki from school. in other words, pissed.

"hey, pretty girl. you should smile; you look less like an ogre when you do—" he hastily starts, laughing nervously as he runs his hands through his messy hair. you've noticed that whenever you neglect to toy with the silky soft strands when you're tangled with him, whether it be kissing, cuddling, or... something else, he'll do it afterward as if to emulate the feeling of your fingers in his hair, even if it 'screws it up'. apparently, his skyscraper ego is too fragile to ask for headscratches.

"just a minute, satoru." you cut him off through gritted teeth, lips that should be stretched in a wide smile pressed together in frustration. your eyes narrow as you straighten up, sitting back on your ankles. "you ate them, didn't you?" your fingers dig into his skin, pinching his cheek. if his skin wasn't already stained crimson with boyish excitement, it would be an angry red now. you give killer pinches; he knows firsthand.

which is why he should've thought ahead and listened to the angel on his shoulder when you were knocked out earlier, curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, snoozing away. what was he to do? the cookies you'd made were calling his name. and it was for his birthday, and they were made for him. so why couldn't he indulge?

this was why.

and you know you've pinned him with your accusation like a throwing dart on a cork board; the way his gaze bounces around the room and his smile turns a hint sheepish and a handful guilty speaks volumes enough before he can even protest. but he can feel your wrath like an entire mine's worth of coal in his stockings, so he quickly throws his hands up, shimmying away from your angry pinch. the sheets bunch beneath him.

"listen, sweets, i just thought that— well, i'm sorry, baby, they just looked so good. and i only ate a few! i swear." satoru says solemnly, getting on his knees and throwing himself before you. he knows you're unamused— sitting there, crosslegged, looking down at him as if he's some chewed up gum you found on the bottom of your shoe. he might as well be. blueberry flavored, maybe? or mint, he's fine with that too—

"so you did." you just sigh, flicking his hunched shoulders, before you go soft again, and he sees pink. you reach forward, fingers creeping beneath his chin to tilt his face up. his skin is soft and warm beneath your skin, thrumming with a life and heat the poor overworked radiator in your room could never measure up to. and when he does look up, his starstruck gaze meets your own; you look ethereal in the warm light, and he wonders why he hasn't put a ring on your finger or started a family with you yet. maybe that can be the last gift to top off the cake of your overflowing knitted stocking, hanging from the kitchen counter; a mahogany box with golden hinges who's shine pales in comparison to the diamond ring in the center of the velvet.

he tucks the idea into his mental notes and grins, a cheeky flash of teeth. "so you forgive me, right?"

wrong. he should know better than to push his luck. especially when it comes to you.

the hand beneath his chin creeps up his face to squeeze his cheeks together, forcing his lips to pucker like a fish out of water as he tries to escape to no avail. you glare down at him, all needles. not at all in the holiday spirit, if you ask him. his face is squishy as a pillow beneath your fingers, and a smile resurfaces on your lips after a long struggle to keep it submerged.

he opens his mouth, no doubt to wail like a newborn, and you quickly withdraw, knowing better than to continue your assault. "geez! okay, fine. sorry. i ate them, you grinch." he grumbles, rubbing his squished cheek as he pouts and looks away, shrinking in on himself. his shirt is bundled beneath his arms, slipping off one of his shoulders to expose a pleasant flush on his neck. "seriously! you're such a killjoy. there's no fun in waiting," he smiles mischievously, wiggling his toes and nudging you with his foot. the fabric of his fuzzy reindeer socks bumps against your thigh, and you make another face at the red pom poms on the crudely-knit rudolph face.

"apologize." you emphasize each syllable, letting them fall off your tongue. they jut into his side like blows to his ribs; he falls back onto the bed for extra dramatics, letting it squeak beneath his weight.

"oh, the horror! to think that i'd be reduced to such a state—"

"satoru."

"—that i, head of the gojo clan, the honored one—”

"satoru gojo."

"should be forced to bow to such pious customs at the foot of scrooge—"

"gojo!"

you reach over to threateningly pinch him again, and he rolls away, tossing a fuzzy pillow into the air and kicking it at you like he's playing some cursed form of tennis. you scowl, catching the cushion and tossing it back at him. it lands square on his face, and he whines, crying about how you've ruined his beautiful, youthfully full, gorgeous face; how is he ever going to pretend to be santa and let pretty girls sit on his lap now? —and that one earns him another pinch to his arm.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry, my love. you're not the grinch, or scrooge, and i shouldn'tve eaten the cookies." he sighs, excruciatingly slow as he inches towards you again, wary of but wanting your warmth all the same. it's too cold to be alone this morning, anyway.

"without me." you corrected, unable to wipe the light grin from your face, and you watch as his face lights up, like a kid seeing his dream christmas present in the window display of a bright shop, hidden behind frosted glass and cold air.

he sits up again, scooting close and opening his arms once more. this time, you oblige, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping your arms around his neck. now he’s the one with his back flush against the mattress, soft as a cloud of cotton candy. he laughs, and it rumbles through his chest when his hands find the back of your head and he tucks your head beneath his chin, cradling your neck.

"without—" punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head, "you." satoru finishes, and you can hear the grin in his voice, cheery as a christmas carole. his arms snake around your waist, squeezing lightly as one hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt to gently rub your back. his fingers against your skin feels like the touch of a butterfly, wings like stained glass.

"how about this, pretty? we can make more together." he suggests, resting his chin on top of your head. you're smushed into his chest, the printed material of his christmas light t-shirt scratching your face, and the only thing you can manage to breathe is the cheap cologne you bought him (you don't understand why he uses it when he could afford the best of his own), but suddenly you can't bring yourself to mind. so you nod, and he chuckles.

"d'ya still wanna do cinnamon?" he asks softly, slipping his free hand into your hair to play with the strands, holding you close and cozy in his embrace. the burning heat of friction between your numb hands or a roaring fireplace don't compare to the warmth he brings you, soft and sweet and painfully human. and you can't really make yourself feel upset at the pretty boy with snow-white hair holding you anymore.

"nah. let's do peanut butter chocolate chip." you hum, muffled, and he laughs, hearty and full, the kind that makes his entire body tremble a little. and you can feel it, so you tilt your head up to peer up at him. there's a stray pine needle in his hair; must've been from your hazardously decorated christmas tree. he looks down at you and smiles, brushing your hair from your eyes and leaning in to kiss your forehead. it’s like a crimson wax stamp sealing his love letter to you.

he cuddles you close, tufts of his soft hair tickling your face like a tacky christmas sweater. "sounds unhealthy. but whatever you want, baby. santa's gonna give you all you ask this year." and this time, he doesn't use the mistletoe as an excuse to brush his lips against yours when you move to pick the pine needle from his hair. he smells like vanilla, swirled like espresso with a hint of cinnamon.

he may have enjoyed his cookies and milk without you, but there's nowhere else he’d rather be— no one else he'd rather share the rest of his time with, be it baking, decorating, or lazy naps in each other’s arms. after all, half the jolliness of the holiday season comes from being with you.

fish analogies went crazy… happy bday gojo !!! my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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dancingdonatello · 2 years

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donnie x gender neutral reader

“In order to date me, you must pass a simple test.” Donnie held the paper vertically in two hands right in front of his chest.

You were in his lab, surrounded by his entire family who were spectating. It was nerve wracking, how they all smirked and eyed you up. It was as if they knew something you didn’t.

But you had studied. You had spent several hours reviewing math equations, practicing chemical equations, and of course, memorizing as much of Pi as you could. As long as you didn’t have to write a rhetorical analysis, you should be able to manage a low C.

Donnie cleared his throat, setting an egg timer at the desk you were sitting at. “You have an hour.” He set the paper in front of you along with a #2 pencil.

You looked down at the test and paused. You picked up the paper and flipped it over. Blank. You flipped it back over. There was only a single question, in all caps and italicized.

WHAT IS DONATELLO’S FAVORITE COLOR?

a) purple

b) blue

c) orange

d) red

Your first thought was that this was a trick but the more you tried to think about it, the more jumbled your thoughts became.

Leo saw your face and walked over, leaning over your shoulder to look at the test. “What?! Don, are you serious? This is way too easy!”

Raph and Mikey joined his side to look. Mikey gasped. “No… this is psychological torture.”

Donnie snorted, no doubt seeing the sweat beginning to form on your forehead. He said nothing.

His brothers were not helping you at all. Mikey was too loud, yelling, “Wait! Let me go get my pom poms!” before returning with thrmand shaking them in front of you. It was very distracting.

Then Leo was basically breathing down your neck to be able to watch every movement you made towards the paper. He’d hum and groan in disapproval each time you hovered over a color.

And lastly, Raph was trying to be encouraging, muttering advice next to you. But none of it made sense. You listened to him for a moment before you realized he was talking about pizza and car insurance.

You were full on sweating at this point and you had to pull at the collar of your shirt to catch a breeze. Which there were none. You were dying.

“Donnie, babe, can you please give me a hint?”

Donnie rose an eyebrow, not looking up from his phone. “Pet names are dating privileges, which you don’t have as last time I checked, you haven’t turned in your test yet. Also, no talking. There are tests still out.”

You buried your face into your hands. You really had to focus. Purple, blue, orange or red. It was easy. It had to be easy. But what if it was a trick? Or what if it was a trick to make you think it was a trick?

He had told you that Splinter had called them colors to remember them. Or something like that. If it was true, he could’ve held a grudge against the color purple because of that. But what if he became attached to it? He had really wanted that purple jacket the Purple Dragons had after all. But maybe… Oh, you were definitely going to have a headache after this.

You took a deep breath and picked up your pencil. You circled your answer.

“Oooh… are you sure about that, bud?” Leo tsked judgmentally, making you second guess yourself. You stood up and trudged over to Donnie. You shakily handed him the paper.

“Hmmm….” Donnie read it over. “Wow. Perfect score. 1/1.”

You gasped and Mikey jumped onto your back with a cheer. “You did it!”

“But—” your blood ran cold. “—you forgot to put your name. Unfortunately, that means I’ll have to take a point off. And of course, that also means you got a 0/1.”

You almost fell to your knees.

“But!” Donnie said again, holding up a finger. “There is extra credit available.”

“What is it?!”

The next day at school, while Donnie was hidden around a corner with his camera out and recording, you stuck your leg out and tripped Kendra.

#rise donatello x reader #donnie x reader #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt fanfiction #donatello x reader #rottmnt #rottmnt x gender neutral reader #rottmnt x gn reader

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sludge-wizard · 9 months

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Made a handy dandy height/size comparison chart for all the characters in Pikmin! There's a huge number of characters in pikmin 4 who use the base models of character creation, and the sizes are consistent. This is the best accuracy I could get, since model comparison isn't viable due to many models being different sizes and getting resized in-game, but here's all the heights written out from tallest to smallest.

5.2cm - Moss 3.5cm - Oatchi (1.6 as a baby) 2.6cm - Collin, Shepherd, other characters with the tall/slim and tall/buff base model, Louie for some reason 2.3cm- Charlie, Dingo, other characters with the medium/chubby base model. Potentially the President, but I can't find or create a good size comparison screenshot. 2.1cm - Brittany 1.9cm - Olimar, Alph, other characters with the smallest base model

-There's a bit of a discrepency on Olimar;s size because of Alph- Olimar's size in early games was 1.9 cm. Alph's is purportedly around 1.6 cm. Since I can't find a source for Alph's size, I'll stick to Olimar as reference only. -Alph is maybe a teensy touch smaller than Olimar in game, but he's actually a bit taller in the menus. We'll compromise and go with a matching height. -Olimar is the same height as the smallest player (Pom for example) -The character creation base models are the same size as the unique NPCs who use the base, for example, Collin is the same size as the tall/buff base. -Interestingly, Brittany and Charlie are smaller than Nelle and Don Bergman, their modern-model counterparts. -Louie's size matches the tallest modern model, interestingly.

Hope this was interesting! I certainly think it is. Maybe i'll do some more size comparisons to unique objects of the world (enemies, ships, etc) in the future if there's demand.

dubs to @hugsohugs and @fullmoonfireball for helping me get a few screenshots for size comparison also helping me with some other comparisons!

#pikmin #pikmin 2 #pikmin 3 #pikmin 4 #captain olimar #moss #oatchi #collin #alph #brittany #charlie #captain charlie #pom #louie #louie pikmin #charlie pikmin #brittany pikmin #alph pikmin #pom pikmin

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pebblesmakesocs · 22 days

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⟡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𝙰 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ⟡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⟡

Stardust Cookie x GN!Reader

TW: None

Word Count: 641

Long before the fallen heroes disappeared from the land of Earthbread, there were legends of a being unlike any witch in existence, but just as benevolent. An entity that could grant powers beyond comprehension to even the smallest cookie, and could crumble even the most powerful, and despite no evidence ever supporting this, this tale had very few skeptics. And he wouldn’t dare to be one of them, but for a being to exist, capable of loving any creature no matter how much darkness plagued their heart, was nothing short of chimerical.

But alas, as he continued his journey through the western sky, attempting to find the wizards that had a hand in creating him, he couldn’t stop thinking about that same being. Perhaps that’s what led him to the infamous Cookie Kingdom, founded by that young gingerbread cookie and his friends. For a cookie so fresh to create something so beautiful was incredible to him.

“So, any cookie is welcome here? Even me?” He asked, looking down at the young cookies beside him.

“Of course!,” Gingerbrave smiled, “There are all kinds of cookies living here now, you’ll find your people here eventually, you just gotta look around a bit.”

It took a lot longer than “a bit.”

Most of the other cookies were uneased by his presence, the only exceptions being the ones who already knew, but the young cookie insisted that he’d find someone eventually. He sat on the swings, berry churro swings Gingerbrave had called them, questioning whether coming here was a good idea at all.

“Hey, you doing okay there?” He looked over to see a cookie standing in front of him, somehow not even slightly intimidated by his existence. “You looked like you could use a friend.”

“Yes, I’m having a bit of trouble in that department. The others here are, unnerved by me.”

“Did Gingerbrave invite you here?” The cookie sat on the swing next to him, “The kid means well, but he probably should’ve eased them into this first. I mean it was a wild day when the ancients first started coming around here. I wish I could have helped a bit with that Stardust.” He gripped the swing chain a bit harder.

“How do you know my name?!”

“Oh right…” They smiled, although he could tell there was something beneath it. “I’m sorry, somebody must’ve told me your name. I’m [Name] if that helps.”

“I suppose it does,” He sighed, “I apologize for my outburst. That was unbecoming of me.”

“Nah it’s alright, I get it. First impressions are always hard, you should’ve seen me when I met Hollyberry for the first time, lost my marbles!” The cookie was very talkative, but he supposed his voyage across the cosmos made him appreciate a good conversation once in a while. Their ramble was cut short by two children approaching them, one a young girl donning pumpkin-themed attire and the other a young boy in a blue jumpsuit and helmet.

“Oh, hey kiddos, you guys need something?”

“We just wanted to ask you to join us, Pom-Pom and I were planning on throwing a party.”

“Yeah!” Gumball Cookie pointed at his gumball cannon, “I’m thinking of helping with the decorations, but I dunno which color gumballs to use.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll come over in a minute. I’m just welcoming our new friend here.”

“That’s okay, they seem like they need you right now.” The cookie smiled at him, gesturing him to follow them as they helped the children.

They ended up deciding on a spring theme, pink and green to signal the beginning of the season. They were so patient with them both, talking to them as though they were their parent. They were such a nurturing soul with a shining aura, almost as though they were-

“Thank you, Baker!”

He stopped.

“I’m sorry WHAT?!”

#stardust cookie #stardust cookie x reader #self ship #not beta read #self aware cookie run #self aware crk #loosely based on my self aware au interpertation

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whatsthebird · 2 months

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Week of 07APR2024 Answers

Answers hidden under the cut.

141 - Spectacled Owl by @birbbro

142 - Herring Gull by @benidryl

143 - Wilson's Snipe by @don-pom

144 - Steller's Jay by @mostlybirdsandphotos

145 - White-breasted Nuthatch by @comedownstairsandsayhello

146 - Common Wood-Pigeon by @benidryl

147 -Green Jay by @nohriantomatoes

How many birds did you get right? Consider adding correct birds to your WTB Life List!

As always, birding is a cooperative experience. Help your fellow birders out by discussing key features that help identity and distinguish a bird in the notes.

Finally, let's give a feathery thank you to this week's submitters.

Keep the game alive! Submit a bird HERE

#WTBAnswers #Birding #Bird Identification

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ofthecaravel · 8 months

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You Know How To Haunt

A 'You Don't Go To Parties' Halloween Special/ Mini Fic/ Oneshot

Summary: Before the night they confessed, Danny and Sam had a very similar evening that ended very, very differently.

Tags: Pre-confession YDGTP Sanny, ANGST, feelingssss (that aren't one sided but Danny thinks they are), saucy thoughts but nothing explicit, basically just infuriating tension

Words: 2.7k

A/N: Sooooo I missed the YDGTP boys and wanted to give a little bit more of a prequel to give y'all a feel of just how tense shit was between them. Inspired by Jennifer's Body, 'Halloween' by Noah Kahan, 'Cheerleader' by Ashnikko, and @holdingup-fallingsky's glasses Danny edit <3

~~~

It was a dark and stormy night, and Danny could not for the life of him find Sam.

It was the typical shtick with a Halloween twist; Sam proposed going to a Halloween party (of course) with costumes, tacky decorations, and “babes as far as the eye can see”. Danny complained and fought it as hard as he usually did, but Sam won for the thousandth time and Danny found himself rummaging in his closet for any semblance of a costume. After tossing on some cheap glasses frames, a velcro bow tie, and a very slim fitting button down that Danny had zero recollection of ever owning, Danny announced his costume.

“A nerd?” Sam mocked, his voice and subsequent laugh muffled from behind the bathroom door where he had holed up to put the finishing touches on his own costume. “Not straying far from reality, are we?”

“Fuck off,” Danny laughed, adjusting the cheap material of the bowtie that was already beginning to strangle him a little bit. “Come on, do I ever get to see your costume or do you just live in my bathroom now?”

“I’d live in here if it wasn’t so filthy,” Sam accused. “I mean, seriously, man, do you ever take out the trash?”

“You’re deflecting,” Danny shot back in a sing-song, banging on the door. “Open up! Michigan PD, you’re under arrest for loitering!”

“You’ll never take me alive!” Sam screeched. “Geez Louise, one second…”

After what felt like an eternity, the bathroom door swung open with a practiced grandeur and Sam strode out with his arms held high, carrying two tinsel pom poms and donning a ripped up cheerleader outfit. He had put on blush in a way that could only be described as amateur and his long, chestnut waves were pulled up in a high ponytail and fastened with a blue scrunchie. Danny played off his suddenly very dry mouth with a look of shock as Sam did a ceremonious twirl and shook a pom pom right under Danny’s nose. Danny snorted and batted it away.

“A cheerleader?” Danny asked, clearly not sold on the concept. “I guess, just, sort of…why?”

“I’ll be the talk of the town, that’s why,” Sam hummed proudly, smoothing the cheap fabricky pleats of his dizzyingly short cheer skirt. “Also, I mean, I look amazing. So that’s a big plus.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Danny murmured, pretending to look away incredulously but doing it purely because he was finding it difficult to look at Sam’s costume at all. He felt the hot flush it provoked in his face and the last thing he needed was for Sam to notice.

“Hey, that’s my shirt!” Sam scoffed, yanking on the collar of Danny’s shirt. “What gives?”

“It was in my closet.” Danny pointed out.

“Yeah, well, it’s not yours,” Sam stammered, putting his hands on his hips and making the pom poms shimmy loudly.

“What do you care?”

“It looks ridiculous.”

“I’m not sure I’m the ridiculous one here, Miss Team Captain.”

“It’s practically popping off of you, Dan.”

“Here, is this better?”

Danny undid the first top buttons and gestured at his chest.

“Now I’m a sexy nerd,” Danny purred, rolling his eyes and turning away from Sam. He heard Sam make a funny little noise he couldn’t quite identify before letting out an exasperated sigh that he knew all too well.

“Whatever,” Sam muttered.

“Get in the car, Stacy, the cheer squad needs you,” Danny joked, grabbing his keys off the wall and tossing a convincing smile back at Sam, already dreading the night that lay before them.

To Danny’s disgust, Sam had been thoroughly right about his costume being a hit. People couldn’t keep their hands off of him; smoothing their palms over the felt number 1 on his chest and lacing their fingers with his to shake the pom poms and asking him over and over again to twirl. Sam, as he always did, gathered his crowd right within eyeshot of Danny, who sat in annoyance on the couch with a full Solo cup. Granted, Danny had corralled a few friends of his own to talk to, but he couldn’t help but sneak glances over at Sam every other minute. With each sip of his drink, Danny warmed up to the truth about why he was so pissed off at all the attention Sam was getting: Sam wanted the attention, but Danny wanted to be the only one to give it. And more glaringly, Danny wanted to be the only opinion that Sam actually cared about. There were all the usual underlying feelings behind it that Danny kept at bay like he always did, but Danny wasn’t all that interested in tuning in to the mushy gushy. As the alcohol softened up his gaze and warmed his limbs, he found his eyes dragging over Sam’s long legs and the curve of his neck, allowing himself to add on to a fantasy in momentary increments. However, after his attention had been drawn into conversation, Danny looked back to find that Sam had disappeared. Without thinking, Danny got to his feet and excused himself, stumbling through the crowd to track Sam down.

Danny couldn’t find him. He traversed the entire lower level of the house, ducking under cobwebs and paper bats and even circling the bonfire in the backyard in hopes of catching a glimpse of Sam and his stupid, slutty costume. After making his way back inside, Danny looked at the crepe paper that had been taped from banister to banister on the stairs and knew that if Sam was anywhere, it was where he wasn’t supposed to be. Danny stepped over the makeshift caution tape and jogged up the steps, becoming increasingly convinced that he was going to walk in on Sam and some random in the throes of passion. His stomach flipped and he swallowed thickly, waving off the imagery and reminding himself that he just wanted to know that Sam was safe. That’s all.

Danny felt pretty bad about snooping around someone’s house that he didn’t know, but he knew Sam wouldn’t, and that’s why he was so certain he would find him up there. Sure enough, Danny hesitantly opened a random door and saw Sam sitting cross legged on a bed, flipping through a thick scrapbook by the warm light of the bedside lamp. His ponytail had been abandoned and the scrunchie was now around his slim wrist, the sequins catching the light as he continued to look through the scrapbook. His upper body was swaying slightly in a seasick, wobbling way that let Danny know Sam was properly drunk, which was further confirmed when he looked up at Danny and let out a surprised gasp.

“Oh my god, hi!” Sam greeted cheerfully, dropping the scrapbook and holding his arms out to Danny. “Come here.”

“You want a hug?” Danny giggled, his annoyance already melting away. Sam tended to do that to him, despite the annoyance always coming back tenfold after some time.

“No, help me up,” Sam whined. He hooked his arms around Danny’s neck as Danny pulled him to his feet, making no motion to move away as he sank into Danny’s embrace and let out a comical sigh, nestling his face into the crook of Danny’s neck. Danny let out a low chuckle and held him lightly, his heart threatening to beat through his chest as Sam swayed in his arms.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, Sammy,” Danny joked, his voice cracking slightly and making him cringe at his own sudden ineptitude around his friend of over 10 years. He could hardly believe how pathetic he was sometimes.

“But you’re so cozy,” Sam argued, his voice muffled and sweet against Danny’s skin.

“Do you wanna go home?” Danny asked gently, the noise of the party oddly melting away as he tentatively smoothed a hand over Sam’s hair.

“No!” Sam suddenly cried, straightening and pushing off of Danny, only to fall back onto the bed again with a bounce. He began to giggle raucously, holding his hands over his face as hiccups began to edge their way between laughs. Danny rolled his eyes and moved to pick Sam up again, but Sam swatted at his chest and wiggled out of his grasp.

“No, no, let me rest, you goon,” Sam slurred defiantly, even drawing a knee up to kick at Danny’s chest. “Ssh, I’m sleeping. I’m honking my mimi’s.”

“You can sleep at home, Sam,” Danny argued patiently, trying again to scoop Sam up and onto his feet. “Come on, up and at em, soldier.”

“I’m not your soldier,” Sam shot back, lifting his chin proudly. “I’m a cheerleader.”

“The very best,” Danny assured him with a grin, his breath beginning to shake with nerves as Sam’s hands reached for him, red hot and wandering as he grabbed at Danny’s shoulders and biceps.

“You’re so strong,” Sam murmured, finally allowing Danny to pull him up again, swaying on the spot as his blurry eyes blinked up at Danny. His eyes were amber and nearly animalistic in the lamplight and Danny had to look away, kneeling down to pick up the abandoned scrapbook and tucking it where he hoped it belonged.

“What are you even doing up here?” Danny asked.

“Bored,” Sam shrugged, beginning to wander around the outskirts of the room. “There weren’t even any good costumes here tonight which is so lame. And, I mean, there’s a whole floor we’re not even using? Of course I’m going to scope it out.”

“Yeah, you’re always where you shouldn’t be,” Danny teased, a touch of bitterness lacing his words. When he looked up at Sam again he knew his tone had gone right over his head, seeing as Sam was leaned up against the wall with his eyes trained on the ceiling fan, his head bobbing slightly as he followed each rotation. Danny allowed to indulge in another moment of observation, taking note of Sam’s exposed stomach and his arms tucked coyly behind his back. He was jolted out of it by Sam meeting his eye and grinning wickedly.

“Hi,” Sam sang softly, cocking his head at Danny.

“You ready to go now?” Danny asked, now desperate to get Sam as far away from him as soon as possible. He got to his feet and approached Sam, getting ready to argue before Sam surprised him by lacing his arms around Danny’s neck again and pulling him in close.

“Do you remember,” Sam started, whispering conspiratorially. “When we were younger, and we used to play boyfriend girlfriend?”

Danny felt an electric shock go through his body at the memory. It had been a truly innocent game, simply practicing the day to day motions they thought they might have to go through when they were old enough and had girlfriends. Who better to play with than your best friend? Plus, Danny had secretly always really liked calling Sam his “girlfriend”, and doing all the fake grand gestures to ensure his happiness had come very naturally. Sam had always said he was the best at being the boyfriend, and Danny had always believed it.

“Yeah, sure,” Danny replied in confusion, his cheeks prickling with uncomfortable warmth again.

“You’re always playing it when we go to parties and you don’t even realize,” Sam laughed. Danny’s eyes widened subconsciously and he stammered, knitting his brow in further confusion.

“What?” Danny managed, attempting a light hearted laugh.

“You do!” Sam crowed in amusement, stabbing an accusatory finger into the center of Danny’s chest. “You love to boyfriend me. Years of practice. You miss it, huh?”

“Wow, you’re hammered,” Danny said dismissively, shaking his head.

“‘S’not the point,” Sam sighed, his head dropping onto Danny’s chest, his soft hair brushing against Danny’s exposed skin and sending a shockwave through Danny’s reflexes.

“I’m taking you home, Sam, end of story,” Danny whispered in Sam’s ear, attempting to straighten his neck before Sam’s hand reached up and pulled Danny’s head back down. Sam’s lips went to Danny’s ear in a whisper of his own.

“I hate you wearing my fucking shirt,” Sam whispered, his voice shockingly sober and coherent in the blink of an eye. A cold sweat broke out over Danny’s body and he felt his breaths coming out in jagged, stilted intervals as Sam kept him anchored to him.

“You wanna take it off me, then?” Danny ventured, his voice matching Sam’s barely audible pitch. He tried to make it a joke but his voice fell flat and serious. He could have sworn he heard Sam’s voice hitch before Sam let go of him, allowing Danny to step back and boggle at Sam’s bizarre behavior. Sam had such an odd glint in his eye, assessing Danny with his lip tucked between his teeth as he continued to struggle to stay standing. For a moment, Danny considered what he would do if he was less restrained than he had learned to be around Sam. There was a massive part of him that was aching and begging for him to pin Sam against the wall and tear away at that infuriating little skirt, holding him down by the warmth of his waist and shutting him up with his teeth and tongue. But he knew he couldn’t, so he stood with a scowl on his face and challenged Sam again.

“What?” Danny snapped, his frustration growing as Sam continued to refuse to leave. That’s all Danny wanted right now, but Sam never, ever gave him what he wanted.

“I…” Sam trailed off and didn’t pick it back up, simply staring a hole through Danny’s head. Danny could practically hear the gears turning in Sam’s brilliant brain, but all that followed was silence. It was the loudest silence Danny had ever heard, and he wondered with a jolt if there was something Sam wanted to say that was akin to what Danny had been screaming into pillows and scrawling in journals for years now. Without a word, Danny pleaded with Sam to just say it so he could stop slowly crushing himself under the weight of whatever it was between them that neither of them wanted to touch. But he knew he wouldn’t, and Sam didn’t, and Danny let out a sigh that threatened to bring tears with it. He walked to the door and opened it, motioning with a nod of his head.

“We’re going,” Danny said firmly, taking off the stupid glasses frames and ripping off the bowtie with an extension of his pinkie, crumpling them into a ball in his hand and tucking them into his pocket.

“But-”

“I don’t want to play anymore, Sam,” Danny snapped, unable to even look at Sam when he said it. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend, which you’ve made very clear, by the way, so I’m not going to force you to do anything. But if you want a ride home and you don’t want to wake up choking on your own vomit in some random person’s studio apartment, the time is now.”

There was a beat of silence, and when Danny turned to look at Sam, he felt a stab of guilt when Sam gawked at him like he’d been slapped across the face. Sam let out a wordless scoff and pushed his way past Danny, turning to glare up at him.

“I can take care of myself,” Sam hissed, his words still blurry and drunk around the edges. “I don’t need you.”

“You won’t be thinking that tomorrow morning,” Danny countered fiercely. Sam rolled his eyes and began to descend the stairs, his sneakers slamming into each step as he ran away from Danny. Danny, as always, ran after him with a growing sickness in his chest. Sam stopped before he reached the front door, looking back at Danny one more time.

Danny knew he had to say it now. He wanted to.

He wanted to beg Sam to calm down and to beg for his forgiveness, worshipping on his knees for his grace like he’d been doing for what felt like his entire life.

But he didn’t.

So out the door Sam went, slamming it and leaving Danny alone.

Again.

~~~

#dont ask me what moved me to write this #i woke up and just HAD to #i felt it in my BONES #would LOVE to discuss this further with yall #gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #myart #greta van art #karoufiction #karouloween

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acefiree · 6 months

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𝗯𝗮𝘆! 𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 | surprise

Raphael ✷ fem! reader ( friends to lovers ) MASTERLIST

ᕦ(๏益๏)ᕥ: this is my first 'insert reader' so I'm still learning. SO PLS DON"T COME FOR ME! With that being said, you are the baby sister of April, and this will be set four months after the 2014 bay! movie. and since the title is called 'surprise' just read to find out the rest :) my warning tags will tell you what to expect!

( this was a chapter from my book ‘pom’ on wp, so if you recognize it, don’t worry it’s not stolen lol. My book is recently being edited and I took this scene out and was just gonna leave it sitting building dust bunnies, but then I was like “why not make it a reader insert instead and let people enjoy it?” so here yah go!! )

WARNINGS: fluff, fem! reader, short reader, size difference, first kiss?, potty mouth reader, pining raph, established friendship, reader wears glasses, pineapple pizza, aged-up characters!, and if you squint NSFW.

╭┈──── ◌ೄ◌ྀ ˊˎ YOUR FEET CARRY YOU hurriedly through the obscure alley, the only sounds that can be heard are your heavy breathing and harsh footsteps on the damp concrete below. Your heart pounds in your chest, feeling as if it might break through the cavity as adrenaline courses through your veins. It is the only thing that motivates you to keep going.

You were running for, what seemed to be, your life.

You wore a loose black tank top and a pair of maroon tights to match, feet sporting a pair of black shoes, and your hair was pulled back. It was not your ideal choice of clothing, but it was the only type that was flexible enough for you to move freely without getting in your way, and the dark shades and colors helped you blend in with the shadows of the night.

You nearly slip and fall as you come to a dead-end in the alley and let out a silent curse under your breath. You can hear movement behind you, growing closer quickly. You knew there were only a few seconds before he caught up and finished what he started. You were almost at the checkpoint, and then you’d be home free, safe from this maniac.

You need to act, or you’d be up shits creek without a paddle.

Your gaze scans the alley walls before locking it on a fire escape. Gritting Your teeth together, you bolt for the ladder and begin climbing with a speed you didn't know was possible for your small human form. Just as you reach the top few bars, a harsh 'thunk' echoes below on the fire escape, jarring the whole thing and sending a violent shake up the metal frame.

“Mother fucker,” You whisper, lighting a fire under your ass as you try to hurry the hell up before you get caught. You grip the rooftop's ledge, feeling the brick bite into your palms as you pull yourself up."Shit shit shit," You hiss.

Almost there.

As you scramble over the ledge, your foot snags on the brick which prompts you to nearly fall. With the newfound reflexes you have earned over the past four months, you tuck and roll, jumping back to your feet as you proceed to run like Karen at a black Friday sale. Your steps never falter nor waver, even when you jump on an AC unit to climb up on a different building. Every move was timed and precise and you couldn’t help but feel pride in the fact you haven’t face-planted yet.

The sound of a low grunt came from behind you, the low growl that followed sent a shiver up your spine and caused gooseflesh to rise on your skin. He’s close! And with that thought in mind, you took a hard left, nearly at the checkpoint.

Finally, after what seems like forever, you fixate your gaze on a makeshift pole in the middle of a roof only feet away. It was adorned with a tattered red cloth that flapped in the night breeze, posing as a flag. You quickly run over, yanking the tiny red flag off the pole before you throw your arms in the air, letting out a loud 'hell yeah' as you dance around with the fabric in your hands.

You made it, nothing could stop you—

You were so focused on your celebration to notice the large figure that was moving toward you from the shadows. A rather loud gasp slips past your lips as something solid hits your shoulder, and muscular arms embrace your figure as you roll across the roof, eventually landing on the ground with a thud. The weight of the figure restrained you, locking your hips on the ground as your wrists were pinned together by large, calloused hands.

When you were finally flat on your back, arms pinned above your head. The expression on your face is as sharp as a knife, annoyance bubbling in the pits of your stomach as you glare up at the figure. "Dammit, Raphael! I fucking got the flag, you asshole!"

The corners of his mouth twitch into that familiar smirk as he stares down at you, his emerald eyes shining with amusement. "Sorry, Sweetheart, didn't see a flag."

And this is how the last four months were spent. You hated how weak you felt that day when Shredder nearly destroyed New York, and possibly the whole world. So, stupidly, you asked Master Splinter to train you — what you didn't expect was for the old rat to assign his second eldest son to train you himself. It made sense, Raphael was more versed in hand-in-hand combat with his itty-bitty forks, but he could be such an ass sometimes.

At first, it was terrible for you. For the first few weeks, you’d come home bruised and sore. April was always fussing over your well-being, saying you were too young to die. (a little dramatic even for you), But as time went on you started to grow stronger and more agile. You were juggling college and also made time to visit the brothers. To say Raphael wasn't impressed with your drive would be a lie.

You were determined, he'd give you that.

But on the days that you weren't training, you’d be in the lab with Donnie. The genius turtle was nice enough to help you study for your upcoming tests that would determine if you were ready to move on with your life and get the job you so longed for. You only had a few years of college left, and you were working hard, finally taking your life into your own hands and molding it into what you wanted.

"I still beat you this time — you didn't catch me." You panted as you wriggled in his firm grip.

He was holding you gently enough not to hurt your smaller wrists, but hard enough so you couldn’t escape.

Raph just stared down at you for a moment, his eyes taking in the bead of sweat that was forming on your neck and collarbone. Your hair now sticking out from your up-do in some spots, and your eyes, which usually held a storm, seemed to glow in the dark lighting around them. You weren't wearing your glasses, which was something he liked because it gave him a chance to see your beautiful eyes better.

You stare up at him, head tilting to the side as Raphael studies you silently. It was times like these when you wondered what he was thinking. This wasn't the first time he stared at you like that.

Another second passed, and that was when you realized his grip had been lost, so you took this as your chance to turn the tables. You knew you were too small to do any damage or cause much force for his hulking form, but if there was one thing Raphael made sure to teach you, it was obstructing your opponent's balance.

With as much strength as you can build up, you jerk your arms down, effectively knocking your elbows to his large knees. Raphael lets out a grunt of surprise as you thrust your hips up, causing him to fall forward from the unexpected move, his three-pronged hands snapping out to catch himself. During his shock at the fact, you somehow managed that, he feels two arms slip around his lower waist before you start to climb his body.

Just as Raph went to reposition himself, he felt you plant your feet on the ground between his legs, your smaller body still pressed against his plastron, before you kick your legs up and push off the ground with your dominate side, the sudden action causing him to lose balance and fall over.

Now straddling him, Raph had to take a moment to process what had just happened, not realizing all the training they had done had given you that much strength to be able to roll his bulking body. It was an obvious indicator that you’ve been holding back this week.

You lean closer to his face, a sly grin slipping on your lips as his eyes widen up at you. "Pinned ya," You quote, internally giggling at the thought of using a Lion King reference in this position.

Raphael felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest at your proximity, and he was sure if you got any closer, you’d hear it. He opens and closes his mouth for a moment, unable to form a proper sentence as his heart thumped in his ears, blood rushing through his veins and causing him to grow hot. Before he could die from sheer embarrassment at the fact you had this effect over the tough-guy front he held, a loud beep came from his shell.

You took a moment to process he was now staring at you expectingly, and with a rushed apology, you climbed off and adjusted your take top that had risen. Raphael made you messy, and messy made things dangerous. It took a moment for you to settle your heart as you inhaled deeply, eyes drifting to the brute as he sat back up and pulled out his T-Phone.

Raphael stands as he clears his throat, eyes locked on the screen while typing a quick response to whoever texted him before looking back at you. Back was his usual confidence as a wolfish smirk twitched at the corner of his scarred lips, "Hey Doll, how 'bout we call it a night and head back to the lair?" He glances over your form as if he has no control over his own eyes. "Mikey got yer' favorite pizza,"

That last comment had your eyes rounding in delight, a grin forming on your face. "Pineapple?"

Raphael grimaces, "Yeah, Pineapple," The terrapin still couldn’t understand the thought of pineapple on pizza. It just didn't sound appetizing, though, he's never dared to try it.

You were now smiling so big, it made the skin on your face glow in the light from the moon, reflecting the soft light of the stars. It was like a heavenly vision of perfection. Raphael felt as though his brain short-circuited for a moment as you said, "You don't have to tell me twice,"

Raphael could only blink as you quickly ran off, heading to the ladder so you could indulge in your strange choice of Pizza.

"Red, I don't understand why I have to wear this stupid thing just to get a slice of pizza." You complained about the millionth time since you entered the sewers, your nose scrunched underneath the stinky fabric of the pillowcase. You had only got to the fire escape before the bara of a turtle stopped you, claiming if you wanted to eat your lovely pizza, then you had to follow some rules.

Which was ridiculous, but you wanted that damn pizza, and you’d do anything for it. Food was the way to your heart.

Raph rolled his eyes, catching your shoulder when you almost tripped over your own feet. "Jus’ trust me," Is all he says.

Upon entering the lair, his green eyes lock on his three brothers. Donnie stands beside Leo, knowing grins on both of their faces while Mikey is practically buzzing on his feet, his lips rolling into his mouth as he tries to suppress the chortles that are building up. They all watch silently as Raphael escorts you across the lair before pulling you to an open door, and nudging you inside a room with his knuckles.

Raphael could feel the nerves start to web around his heart, turning his attention to his brothers as they entered the room with you both. He felt so out of his element here, never being the type of guy to give someone a surprise that he had worked so hard on. Raph’s eyes slowly drift to his older brother, looking for an out but was only met by an encouraging nod and knowing smirk from the leader as they locked eyes.

Shit. Raphael swallows thickly, his palms feeling sweaty as he reaches over and grabs the top of the pillowcase, pulling it off in one swift movement.

It takes a moment for Your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you instantly start scanning around, taking in the room as Mikey throws his arms in the air with a wide grin on his face, "Surprise, Babette!!"

Your mouth slacks in awe at the sight, forehead creasing in confusion as you turn to look up at Raphael. An anxious look is on his face as he stares down at you, watching your reaction, lips flat.

"I-Is this for me?"

The largest terrapin nods, "Yeah..."

You can’t believe what you were looking at. The room was a rather cute setup, which looked like an attempt at a teenage girl’s bedroom. There was a stack of box palettes in the corner of the room, multiple thick blankets folded as a makeshift mattress, and pillows neatly leaning against the concrete wall (which looked oddly similar to the ones back in your bedroom). A few other things, like your stuffies—fucking embarrassing—and your bean bag chair, you recognized.

They made a room for you, and you had the inkling idea that your sister helped.

You felt a smile on your lips, knowing the guys most likely took these things from the apartment to set this up, but you honestly didn't care. You were more touched by the fact that they took the time to even do this for you.

Your eyes followed Mikey as he rushed around the room, shell nearly knocking a few things over as he spun around to face you with his candid grin, his blue eyes twinkling.

"So whatcha think, Babe?"

You didn't know what to say, "You guys did this for me?"

Leo smirked across at Raph, who was seeming to have trouble answering for himself at the moment, to caught up in the endearing look on your face, "We helped, but it was mainly Raph who planned it, and April gave us the stuff – We all agreed that since you spend most of your time here, you need a room of your own so you're not sleeping on the couch."

Raphael lets out a long breath that he didn’t know he was holding as he watches your face brighten with a smile. He tries to gather his bearings as you slowly turn your attention back to him, the smile on your lips only curving higher, and he feels like one of his Sia’ pierces his heart at the sudden ache of wanting to touch overwhelms him.

Leo shares a silent look with Donnie, jerking his chin toward the kitchen before motioning for Mikey to come with them, and the three leave to give you both some privacy. You pay no mind to their departure as you glance away and walk deeper into the room, your eyes wide as you take everything in. It honestly wasn't bad, and it was honestly way better than your room topside. You can’t stop the smile that continues to grow on your face.

Raphael, who tracks your every move, takes a seat on the bed carefully being mindful of his weight. His eyes watch as you pretty much touch everything, your expression looking like a kid shopping for candy. It isn't until your gaze locks on a movie that you snap out of your reverie state.

You snatch up the movie and turn to face him, holding it between your fingers as a smirk replaces your smile, "Batman?"

He gives you a crooked smirk, gaze playfully sharpening only a little. "I only watched it once,"

You let your eyes dance around the room for a second, a mock look of curiosity growing on your face, "Did you bring breath mints too?" You question, referring to your first encounter with the brute. That night you and April discovered their existence; not only did you make a jab at his breath, but you also said he sounded constipated when attempting the Batman voice. It was a moment that was forever burned in both of your memories.

A chuckle vibrates from his chest, "Shut up," His face shifts as he looks down.

You felt like a mess as you stood beside the shelf, the movie lying limp in your grasp as your heart went thump, thump, thump. All you could do was inhale through your nose as a new mood filled the atmosphere, and your heart started to insist on beating out of your chest the longer you stared at Raphael. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze finding his tattered shorts more interesting as he played with a drawstring that hung from the waistband. You made a mental note to get him some new clothes for his upcoming birthday.

Maybe it was the hit you took tonight, or the fact he had done something so, so sweet for you, but you couldn’t explain the feeling that suddenly takes hold of your body as your feet decide for you and begin moving in the terrapin's direction.

Being the observant ninja he is, Raphael quickly jerked his gaze upward upon hearing your light footsteps, his mask shifting as you came to a stop in front of him. If his heart was racing before, it was pounding now. With a soft smile, you reach a hand up, eyes searching his own for those walls he tended to build in moments of vulnerability. When you saw no indication of him doing such, you closed the gap and placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb softly rubbing the texture of his unique skin.

Raphael rarely showed his soft side around anyone, but it was times like these when he did, that you took advantage of it. Spending nearly every day with somebody for over four months, you end up learning a lot about them. Especially Raph, who could be really easy to read if you knew just what to look for.

At your touch, His eyes grow slightly hooded as he stares up at you, his breath catching in his throat as the muscles in his neck twitch, "Trouble…" His gravelly voice is surprisingly soft, softer than you’d ever heard from him before.

Raphael usually radiated power, his towering body just demanding attention as he walked into a room. Yet in this moment, all that exuding power was sucked dry the moment you touched him. This gives you the courage to lean in closer to him, gaze traveling over his face, taking in every scar and imperfection as you grow closer to him. You felt your heart rate spike when his eyes dropped to your lips and suddenly, they grew a shade darker, pupils dilating. His large hands slowly reach up and wrap around your waist, tugging your smaller figure closer to him.

The second he brought you closer, a small breathy sound came from your lips and your hands landed flat on the top part of his plastron. Raphael couldn’t help the deep rumble that vibrated out of his chest as your scent engulfed him, the vines of your favorite shampoo and body wash, mixed with the sweet sweat from your workout out was fogging his mind as it wrapped around and squeezed.

He felt the primal instinct to just reach up, bury his beak in the soft flesh of your neck and just taste.

Gripping the loose fabric of your tank top, he felt the tips of his fingers graze the soft skin just under the edge, and that feeling alone made his desires more severe. He licked his lips, intense gaze on your mouth as you mimicked his movement subconsciously. He smirked at that, realizing you were paying just as much attention to him as he was to you. Raphael was never good with his words, actions were more his way of expressing how he felt. That was why he made you a room, so you could have your own space, and maybe want to stick around longer (though you already practically lived there) he wanted you in the lair, so he knew you were safe from anything and everything. He was fucking crazy for you, and the thought made him tighten his hold around your waist as another churr vibrated from his chest.

Your body felt like it was on fire, a shiver going down your spine when you heard that deep rumble. What was that? You had thought when you heard it. None of the brothers had ever made a noise like that before, and you’d definitely be googling it, or asking Donnie about it later.

Even while standing, the hothead was an inch taller, his thick arms flexing as he all but pressed you against him, his legs spread and inviting you in. He hunched only a smidge, bulking form swallowing you as he dropped his snout to your neck as if he could no longer resist. You closed your eyes at the skin-to-skin contact, chills running through you as euphoria filled your brain. Was this what it was like to have him touch? Because if was, you’d get on your hands and knees, begging for him to do it again if that’s what it took.

“Raphael,” You whisper as you place a hand on the nape of his neck, your hands trailing his pebbled skin before stopping where his shell met his back. His body trembled at the touch to the sensitive skin. You crane your neck so he can have better access while he sniffs and nips at your soft skin. There was a tiny moan at the tip of your tongue when he trails up, leaning back just enough to hover his mouth over yours.

Raphael’s mind was reeling when he heard how you said his name in a breathless whisper, and he felt his tail twitch. The sight of your body pressed against him had a rough rumble coming from him once more, and the fact you were so small against his larger form didn’t help in the slightest. The size difference was blatantly obvious, yet somehow, you fit together perfectly.

Minds alike, they both want more. No. You both need more.

And just before your lips meet, a voice stops you both.

"Pizza's ready!"

Dammit Michelangelo.

You both instantly snap back into reality, and you nearly fall on your butt from how quickly you move away. Your mouth parts as you stare at Raphael, not knowing what to say or do at that moment. Your heart was pounding so strongly that you feared it would break your ribcage.

Raphael was your best friend, and you almost kissed him.

Rough features stared back at you, eyes slightly wide as he was unable to form words. He feared that he had just imagined it all. There was no way a girl like you would ever want to kiss a mutant like him, but as soon as a smile began to blossom on your face and you gave him a shy look followed by an amused giggle, he knew what just happened wasn't his imagination.

And so, he did what he always wanted to do from the first moment you opened that smartass mouth of yours and popped off.

In one swift movement, he was standing up and moving across the room toward you, his strong hands grabbing the sides of your face as he bent lower and crushed your lips together in a hungry kiss. You didn't hesitate to return the gesture. You slant your head as lips move quickly against his, hands falling onto the front of his hard plastron. You felt yourself move forward and step on his feet, leaning up on the tips of your toes, trying to deepen the kiss as his hands fell to your lower back, pulling you up.

Raphael began to walk you back wards and when your back touched the wall, that was when you snapped back to reality, and all movement seized as you slowly pulled your lips from his, eyes locking as chests rose and fell at a rapid pace.

Raphael stares down at you, one bulking arm bracing the wall beside your head as his eyes quickly scan your reaction, expecting to see regret and disgust pooling in those pretty eyes he had begun to love so much. Yet, as he stared at you, he realized you weren't looking at him like that at all, no, your eyes were clouded with what seemed to be admiration.

As if you could read his thoughts and hear all his insecurities, you reached up and ran your hands over his masked face, pulling him by the hanging tails to capture his lips in another kiss. This one is a lot softer than the first. And as you pull away again, three words leave your lips that sent his heart into a beating frenzy and made a toothy grin spread across his face.

"I love you,"

#bayverse raphael #reader insert #bayverse tmnt #bayverse mikey #bayverse donnie #bayverse leo #teenage mutant ninja turtles bayverse

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tuppencetrinkets · 6 months

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Sorted caps from multiple MCU resources, a continuation of an earlier project. Previous caps found in THIS tag and also some icons and other MCU/Marvel related resources HERE. You'll find sorted caps from Werewolf by Night, Secret Invasion, Ms. Marvel, Morbius, Loki S1&S2, Thor: Love and Thunder, Marvel One Shots, Agent Carter, Spider-Man No Way Home, Black Panther Wakanda Forever, Guardians of the Galaxy 3 & Christmas Special and She-Hulk in this collection.

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Face claims: Saegar Shaikh, Alysia Reiner, Mehwish Hayat, Murry Hammond, Lotte Verbeek, Lyndsy Fonseca, Mark Ruffalo, Matt Iintz, Currie Graham, Lizzy Caplan, Richard E. Grant, Enver Gjokaj, Kat Dennings, Alfred Molina, Rhys Coiro, Bridget Regan, Matt Braunger, Dave Bautista, James D'Arcy, Jamie Fox, Laura Donnelly, Martin Freeman, Samuel L. Jackson, Zoe Saldana, Kate Dickie, Emilia Clarke, Christian Bale, Kingsley B'Adir, Willem Dafoe, Vin Diesel, Chad Michael Murray, Tatiana Maslany, Iman Vellani, Tom Hiddleston, Owen Wilson, Hayley Atwell, Tom holland, Sophia de Martino, Chris Hemsworth, Jon Favreau, Fawad Khan, Steve Coulter, Dominic Cooper, Wunmi Mosaku, Gael Garcia Bernal, Don Cheadle, Natalie Portman, Reggie Austin, Ken Marino, Liz Carr, Rish Shah, jonathan Majors, Nathan Fillion, Kevin Bacon, Jack Veal, Sean Gunn, India Rose Hemsworth, Patty Guggenheim, Renee Elise Goldsberry, Pom Klementieff, Cobie Smulders, Adria Ajoa, Charlie Cox, Marisa Tomei, Matt Smith, Zendaya, Jared Lto, Mark Link-Baker, David Pasquesi, Zenobia Shroff, Lupita Nyong'o, Tenoch Huerta, Karen Gillian, Jacob Batalon, Ginger Gonzaga, Ke H Quan, Danai Guirra, Anna Madeley, Chris Pratt, Clark Gregg, Angela Bassett, Aramis Knight, Dominique Thorne, Shea Whigham, Lesley Boone, Samina Ahmed, Laith Nakli, Andrew Garfield, Tobey Maguire, Benedict Cumberbatch.

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blackmesaflashbackepisode · 6 months

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I’m asking for a simple observation and maybe recalling on your part, Bubs. I’m sure with your level of intelligence you can handle it with ease, no dentistry needed

Bubby: ...Well, no, the little squirt's always looked like that from what I can remember. Immense need for a haircut and all.

Benrey: i don' WANNA haircut!!

Bubby: You look like a walking pom-pom!

#[bmfe]#[file: cyan]#[file: blue]#[chapter 3]

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defaulttwig · 2 years

Text

Donatello’s Monster

(rottmnt) Donatello x gn!reader

Summary: In true hubris comes Frankendonnie, meant to think and act like its creator. Donnie’s latest creation, in its short lifespan, fell for you. And so, the maker must destroy it before it destroys him.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: This is what happens when you write at the top of your head understanding little characterization of a character. Had rottmnt in mind but could probably be any Don.

“Don, we’re going to be late to the party.”

You followed the eager turtle to his lab. The pom poms you held shimmied with every swing of your arms. Donnie claimed he had some last second touch-ups he wanted to do. Which then turned to him wanting to show you his work. Considering the time to the party was soon, you went ahead and texted April the two of you would be late. The others already left a long time ago. She returned your message with a winky face.

“Not by long.” He waved his hand dismissively.

The two of you entered his lab where you noticed a white sheet hung over something as tall as you two. It captured your attention for good reason. Donnie looked over his shoulder, smiling proudly at your curiosity. He stopped next to the object as you stood a few feet away.

He began to cackle, hunching slightly. “Are you ready?”

Well, now you are afraid.

“Behold, science-ah!” He hissed dramatically while pulling away the sheet.

You guffawed at the likeness of Donnie in metal form. It looked just like him. Green with similar painted purple spots. It even donned a purple mask and battle shell. Glancing from it to Donnie, you could not see a difference. You waved your pom poms.

“Whoa, Donnie, you made a statue?”

“No, no. Even better.” He cleared his throat and clapped his hands twice. “I present to you, Frankendonnie.”

The statue came to life and turned its head between the two of you. So, a robot. Even better. You clapped your hands in awe, smacking the pom poms together as you did. At your praise, Donnie dramatically bowed.

“What does it do?” You asked.

“Everything I do.” He patted the arm of robot Donnie. “I programmed him to think just like me. He’s my backup, my secret weapon, should my brothers and I end up outmatched.”

“I love it.” You smiled as Donnie slinked away from it. “Now, come on, we’re going to miss the party and you’re not in costume.”

“I will be gone for only a moment. Wait here with my greatest creation.” He walked off to his room and you turned around.

The robot was still on.

You walked over to it, tapping a pom pom against your chin. You walked around it, looking at all the details. Donnie really put in the work to make it an exact copy of him. You wondered how far he went to make it work.

Standing in front of it, you gestured to your costume. “How do I look?”

The robot’s eyes took in your form. “You look amazing as usual.”

You snickered, a bit bashful at the compliment. “Thank you.”

As a true test of Donnie’s genius, you stepped into the robot’s space. The robot backed away, rubbing the back of its neck. You laughed and backed away. Wondering how it would handle affection like real Donnie, you formed a heart with your hands. The robot stiffened.

“Wha-”

“I’m here!” Donnie strode into the room, donning his costume.

Compared to the effort his brothers put in, his costume was more plain. An orange shirt and a green hat, supposedly a pumpkin. You crossed your arms, wondering if you should have stuck him in a football player’s uniform to match your cheerleader outfit. Ah well, he still looked cute. You said as much.

“I know,” Donnie said with ease. “Shall we head out?”

“Yeah.” You pointed over your shoulder. “But what about-”

Donnie’s eyes widened. A breeze shot past you and cast a shadow on the ground. Donnie ducked out of the way just as the robot’s bo staff slammed into the floor, cracking it. Your jaw fell, confused at the sudden rebellious nature. Donnie, too, was confused, whipping out his own techno bo and getting into a fighting stance.

“Frankendonnie,” his voice wavered a tinge of above impassiveness at the betrayal. “What-”

The robot raised its staff and swung at him. “There can only be one!”

You had an inkling that this was somehow your fault, having been alone with it for a minute and all. So, you felt the need to apologize mid-battle. “I’m sorry for breaking your robot.” Donie glanced from you to the bot. “Scoff, I should have known.” They clashed again before Donnie broke off, landing next to you. He pointed at the robot from the side. “You are TOO much like me.”

So, you weren’t to blame? Completely?

The two fought a few minutes longer. Where Donnie tried to minimize damage, the robot crashed his work table, slammed a ceiling light, and did everything in its power to destroy Donnie. The turtle finally had enough of it, coming to a stop several feet away.

“That is it! Frankendonnie, execute plan Z!”

The robot, in mid-air, stopped its lunge at Donnie. It slammed to the ground lifelessly. Donnie gave it a quisitive look before straightening from his fighting stance. He draped his staff across his shoulders, lazily wrapping his arms over it.

“And that is why I am the better one. I have fail-safes, even for my copy.” He sighed. “Sad. You were the most handsome thing I built.”

You snuck around the destruction to stand beside him. “Nothing compares to the original though.”

He rolled his head in your direction with a smirk and a shrug. “True. I am handsome.”

You jumped as the robot caught on fire. Before you could panic, Donnie called Shelldon in to extinguish the fire. The turtle drone produced a hose from its shell, spraying an extinguishing foam onto the robot. While the drone did that, Donnie took in the state of his lab with a frown.

You blinked, remembering the pom poms in your hand. “Uh, should we head to the party?”

He said nothing for a moment before shrugging, putting away the bo staff. “Yeah.”

This whole mess could be taken care of after.

#donatello x reader #rottmnt x reader #twig's monstober

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lavisenri · 5 months

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winter days | daniel ricciardo

Charlize was preparing to hit the ice at the enchanting skating rink; her sense of style was effortlessly translated into a winter wonderland aesthetic. Donned in a chic ensemble, she sported a knee-length, fur-trimmed cream coat that exuded sophistication, keeping her warm and adding a touch of glamor to the frosty atmosphere. Underneath, a fitted turtleneck sweater in a muted lavender hue complemented the winter palette, hinting at a subtle playfulness. The blades, polished to a glistening silver, hinted at their readiness to glide gracefully across the icy surface. Accessorizing with a matching lavender knit beanie adorned with a faux fur pom-pom, Charlize maintained playful elegance. A pair of cashmere-lined gloves, allowing her to maintain warmth without sacrificing agility, completed the ensemble. Her hazel eyes sparkled with anticipation and joy as she laced up her charming lavender skates, a perfect fusion of practicality and feminine flair.

Soon enough, she gracefully stepped onto the ice, her attire seamlessly blending with the winter scenery, not realizing a pair of eyes locked on her or someone was already there at the Ice Rink. Daniel hasn't been out for long today. He could have managed to snag the time he wanted on the ice before everyone else started rolling in. It was early, though not unbearably like it had been earlier.

Even though it was a Saturday, he woke up at 5 am, drove to the school, and collected a few things from his classroom before driving towards the community rink. It was bigger and far grander than their school rink, so Daniel preferred it. Even when he and his team met a few days later than preferred, they got to work. It wasn't long before the rink became more unbearable to practice in as it became lively with nearby residents. Therefore, Daniel called it an early practice and waved his students back home.

Now, he was carefully cleaning off his skates, sliding the protective covers onto the blades. He never did much on the ice anymore, not since what happened. Daniel was perfectly content with teaching and watching rather than doing. Of course, he still got out on the ice with his team, but more often than he'd like to. He didn't quite understand what was stopping him- a lack of pride in his natural talent. Maybe.

Daniel raised a hand to rub his face, feeling his stubble brush against his fingertips, before he dropped his hand again, back to his side. He glanced down at his clipboards and resorted to sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of the rink barrier. He had been putting off so much work, especially as of recently. His parents would be visiting, and he was too prepared to put everything in tip-top shape for them. Daniel couldn't manage to sleep, either. He wasn't a man to stress- but God, his parents managed to make him do somehow just that. His eyes hadn't left the people on the ice, and he didn't realize he was dazed off until he even took notice of what he was looking at. A cute lavender-colored beanie, topped by an equally cute little pom-pom. He examined the woman, watching as she slid onto the ice. Was she alone? God, it was still early in the morning. Good to get in extra practice, he supposed.

The crisp winter air added a touch of invigoration to the atmosphere, and she gracefully glided across the ice, showcasing a combination of skill and poise. As she traversed over the ice, her keen observation led her to notice Daniel on the other side of the rink. Intrigued by the familiar face, she recognized him as the coach of the local hockey team.

With a graceful movement, she executed a series of spins, her eyes occasionally flickering toward Daniel. Sensing his momentary distraction, she acknowledged him with a friendly wave, a subtle yet warm gesture conveying recognition and goodwill. As she approached, Charlize's lavender beanie added a touch of whimsy to the scene, contrasting with the serene backdrop of the rink. Her skates glide effortlessly, a testament to her comfort on the ice and her innate sense of style. When she reached Daniel, she offered a warm smile. "Good morning! It's always a pleasure to see someone appreciate the ice early in the day," Charlize greeted, her tone carrying a genuine warmth. "How's the morning treating you?"

He couldn't help but become impressed, honestly. He had always been entranced in that kind of skating- where you show off, with God knows how many names for how many tricks there have been. Hell, his mom was a figure skater. He grew up watching things, yet it never failed to amuse him. That's another reason he always went to the rink when bored, even when he didn't skate. It was the place he enjoyed being most, really- it wasn't as silent as his home was, but he was left alone here, for the most part. Of course, Daniel was okay with interaction- in fact, he prefers it over being alone. Again, that was a reason why he was rarely at home. He only stayed home when Spencer often showed up at his door. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts when the woman waved at him and slid towards the barrier. He blinked once, twice, before glancing around with slightly wide eyes as if surprised that she was talking to him specifically. Daniel turned his eyes back to the pretty woman again before he had to think about what she had said. He opened his mouth a split second later, a wide grin spreading.

author notes: first time doing this and I would like to thank my friend as we had rp this before I decided to make this into a narrative because why not? ahahaha anyways hope this was good @burberryfilms @lvrcpid @luvvtrent

#formula 1 #f1 #daniel ricciardo #ᝰ.ᐟ vi vision #hockey coach au

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