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#I love him so much but I can't freaking stand him
alpydk · 1 hour
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Where is that child now, I wonder?
Just some Gale angst I felt I needed to write. Maybe a TW (abusive parent)
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He'd always been a sensitive child, the one so easy to trust the other kids, the one to do as they said, only to find himself in trouble later. Don't cry is what his father had always demanded of him when he skinned his knees or felt alone during the evenings.
He sat outside on the cold stone steps, trying to ignore the yelling from behind the oak door, the accusations being thrown between his two parents. Again, he was the centre of the discussion; his mother trying to protect him, his father saying she had coddled him too much. At the age of eight, they didn't think he understood, but with struggle came wisdom.
No wonder he didn't fit in with his peers. It wasn't just the magic that was the problem; it was the home life he came with too. How many parents would let a kid come to theirs after having met someone like his father? The old-fashioned soldier, with the militaristic views. "Children should be seen and not heard. Stand up straight. Apologise for what you did, what you said, for your existence. You'll never be good enough. You have such potential. Why can't you just…?" Eight years of put downs and loneliness.
He twirled the dancing lights in his hand, trying to draw his mind away from their voices. One argument had been about his lack of interest in combat training. All the other boys could wield a sword, so why couldn't he? Another had been about his love of books. "No! I won't let my son read poetry and become like a delicate flowered prick of an elf. Weak, pathetic! No, he will do as I say and do it when I tell him to!" 
Today's argument was about the rosebush. He'd panicked as the older boys had shouted at him. They had started heckling him to see simple spells; first, little cantrips, but then it had been demands for things more interesting. "Go on, let's see the fire one. We know you can do it, freak." Demands turned to pulling at his clothing, a bruise to his arm, a panic in his chest he had only felt when his father had taken off his belt. He hadn't realised what had happened until only the crackling of embers could be heard and the red roses had turned to ash.
Now his mother was protecting him again, saying it was just an accident, only for his father to shout what the real accident was. He fought back the tears as he had been ordered to, trying to be a good son, trying to be good enough for his father. He didn't notice as the warm arm wrapped around his shoulder, as the elderly voice tried to soothe him. He didn't even feel the tears as they dampened the cotton robes he'd buried his face in, a comfort from an unlikely source, a shield from the face of his father as he walked out of his life. Gale Dekarios, son to a single mother, friend to no one, chosen of Mystra.
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winter-spark · 6 months
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Have I introduced you to my favorite most hated character? Meet Kiri Hyoryu from Future Card Buddyfight!
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astrxealis · 4 months
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dear gods i adore horror tbh but i am way too sensitive to it
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#idk how to describe 'sensitive' rn i'm dying in the head i should be asleep but Man!!!!!#i search up tons of horror stuff for funsies. movies uhh creepypastas stories real life events etc. fun!#BUT it freaks me out wayyy too much. bcs i really don't deal well w Those feelings of paranoia.#my imagination too good i was scared at night going to sleep bcs i'd imagine what to do if an intruder came in from the bedroom door#or bathroom door and think of how i'd escape Death.........#Did Not Help my area before was kinda yk. chillax. chillax meaning grassy tree-sy backyard overgrown trees#old-ish in a filipino chill neighborhood that isn't very fancy ?????? idk.#and the fact one time my dad almost died and someone standing close to him Did die so. haha. traumatized from that.#I WASN'T THERE..... but i rmbr my dad coming home and the news absolutely terrified me. anyway!#wow... rambling on tumblr at 3 and a half am... Nostalgic.#anyway yeah i love love love horror stuff but i am !!! so bad w them !!! like jesus christ i adore resident evil and bloodborne#is my whole bloodline. or something. but i can't even watch my twin kill 1 zombie in a re game Demo (she can't do it either)#and i can only make it to killing the first monster in bloodborne and explore a tiny bit where there are still no enemies. god.#AAAGGGGHHHhhhh ... and the first point of horror in omori then i stop playing for months...... even tho i rlly wna play more :((#2024 ........ cmon... i will try to overcome my fears more.#i've improved somewhat at least! ...from when i was younger. like. man. i could never stay in night-time in games ever.#ffxv? nah i always have to travel at morning. only when i got strong enough that daemons were nothing to me did i stop#getting scared. ouuughhh... and i always try to be stealthy in games........... for many reasons ofc but 1. Scared#okay i shut up now. apollo rambles of tonight: done and over!
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petrichorvoices · 2 years
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we were supposed to go to bed early on account of having a math final tomorrow and then the new WTNV episode dropped. alas
#anyway now that i've made what looks like a normal post i can be a freak in the tags#because i'm sparklesemoji self conscious!!!! sparklesemoji#listen i can't be bothered to copy paste the actual emojis rn. anyway. it's weird balancing being a fictive with#being a fan of a source. like i'm trying to view things from just a fan perspective but...... that's my husband. that's my husband who#i'm holding right now. and i know he doesn't take it personally or at least he's better at not taking it personally than i am but i know it#like. it shouldn't bother me???? i don't know why i'm unable to separate the fictional Carlos that people talk about from my husband Carlos#or the fictional Cecil that people talk about from myself. myself who as far as i know is very much real. or is at least trying to be#but i can't like. i can't ever say this anywhere. because who would believe me? how do i expect people to believe me when i say that that's#me or that that's my husband like it's weird. it's fucking weird!! it's not something that people are supposed to believe i guess#and i guess i have to wonder like. do i love the character of Carlos so unreservedly because he deserves it or because i'm a fictive of#the character's husband and i'm married to a fictive of the character? who knows. and Carlos says that if the criticisms people have of the#character affect how i see him that's fine because the things they criticize him for are things that he did actually do#and he says this is closest we'll ever get to standing in a room and having those around us truly tell us what they think about us#without being scared to hurt our feelings. and now i feel worried that through this post i'm jeopardizing that chance. i don't know. it's a#lot and i don't think that this is something that i as a person am supposed to be able to handle. i'll learn how to handle it anyway#because that's what i'm supposed to do and because what other choice do i have? but i think i'll always know#it's not supposed to be this way.#Cecil's tag#rambling#plurality tag#for what's in the tags lol#so i can find this ramble again later
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wileycap · 6 months
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Crackfic Idea:
30-year-old Zuko gets randomly flung back in time to his 16-year-old self. For a couple of hours at a time. At the most random times imaginable. Imagine the potential.
Zuko assumes that it's a dream or a vision, but definitely not real. He tries not to freak everybody out too badly, but he's also fully enjoying himself and seeing all of his friends as their young selves.
ZUKO, as he and Aang circle each other at the South Pole: I've spent years preparing for this encounter. Training, meditating. You're just a [Spirit Shwoop Sound] ... baby Aang!
AANG, confused: Well, more like preteen Aang. How do you know my name?
ZUKO, looking around: Wait, where are we?
AANG: Um... this is the-
SOKKA: Don't answer him! He's trying to get information out of you. You can't give away our location!
KATARA: Sokka, he's standing in the middle of our village. I think he knows.
ZUKO: We're here? This is so weird. I was just here for the Annual Penguin Race.
AANG: THERE'S AN ANNUAL PENGUIN RACE?!
ZUKO: Well, yeah, it was your idea... you gave a whole speech about cross-cultural cooperation and friendship, but I know you just wanted to go penguin sledding with a bunch of people...
AANG: Well, I-
SOKKA: Stop giving him more information! He already knows about the penguins!
Everybody else is confused, bewildered and even befuddled except for Iroh, who assumes that it's Spirit Shenanigans™️ and just fully accepts that his nephew likes tea and hugs and Pai Sho sometimes while being his usual shouty surly traumaball self at others.
ZUKO, stepping into the cabin: Hi, Uncle. I brought you some ginseng. How about a game of Pai Sho?
IROH, tearing up a little: I would love that, my nephew.
ZUKO: I wish we could do this more often, but you live so far away...
IROH, mentally calculating that he lives exactly three doors away from Zuko, and nodding sagely: The rat-viper may never climb the mountain that a hog-monkey can, but the monkey does not know what lies underneath it.
ZUKO, sighing sadly: I know, Uncle. I do appreciate my position in life, even if it has disadvantages.
IROH: Hmm. Your move, nephew.
The crew of Zuko's ship is terrified by the fact that whenever it happens, Zuko is somehow even more hyper-competent, seems to be weirdly calm about everything, and most unnervingly of all, he's polite.
SOLDIER: Here is a report on the best teahouses within three days travel of our current location, Sir. And, uh, Commander Zhao sent a messenger hawk.
ZUKO: Excellent. Thank you very much, Sergeant. I think we can ignore whatever Zhao has to say. In reply, I want you to send him a list of the most famous officers in Fire Nation history, and point out that none of them had sideburns. I want to see if he shaves them.
SOLDIER, sweating nervously: O-of course, Sir.
As a matter of fact, the whole fic could just be Zuko trolling Zhao. It would be glorious.
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babisawyer · 1 year
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for as detailed as eric kripke made dean winchester he sure knows nothing about him.
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vaspider · 2 years
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Pete Buttigieg is just a faggot.
It's very important to me that younger queers understand this: to the people who you're trying to be more respectable for when you say things like neopronouns set the trans movement back or you're why the cishets don't accept us or including [aces/bi people with the 'wrong kind' of partners/non-binary people/kinksters/non-passing trans ppl/furries/polyam people] just hurts us, can't you wait until we get all our rights before we talk about some of yours? -- to those people? Pete Buttigieg is just a fag.
On Sunday at Pride Northwest, some kids -- late teens, early 20s -- asked what our button I survived Reagan for this? meant. All of the queer adults at the tables making up our ad hoc counter looked at each other and sighed a little. Emet and another adult started to explain the way that the Reagan Administration handled -- or didn't handle -- the beginning of the AIDS crisis. How many people died. How much we were ignored. The Ashes Action. The Time Magazine article which explicitly blamed bisexual men for passing the pandemic to the cishet community, playing on all the worst stereotypical bullshit. The way that even when the CDC started paying attention, they were so focused on gay men that they ignored AIDS in the lesbian community, leading to the "women don't get AIDS, they just die from it" poster. And so on.
I finished counting out change and passed the last Bear Pride raised fist pin over to a bear a little older than me, then turned my head and interjected, "they didn't care until it started infecting more than just the fags." I turned my head back and handed him his change. He laughed bitterly and said, "remember when they called it 'gay cancer?'"
That what I need you to understand. The people for whom you are folding yourself into smaller and smaller boxes will never see you as anything but a freak. A queer. A dyke. A tranny. A fag.
Never.
These are people who will stand by and let you wither away and die alone, gasping for breath in a cinderblock room, and not even claim your ashes, and they will say you deserve it, because of your lifestyle. If they speak of you at all it will be by the wrong name, with the pictures you hate the most. They will curse at your lover, throw him out of the home you shared, and steal the gift you gave last Christmas to throw it in the trash just so he can't have it and they'll say Jesus loves you! while they do it. They'll feel good and righteous and blessed and holy and pure for doing it.
And for them, you spit in the eye of your sister. For them, you disavow your sibling. For their sake, you trim away bits of your heart and lace yourself up tight. Never too loud. Never too queer. Never inconvenient or embarrassing, never asking for too much.
Pete Buttigieg is what happens when your Boomer dad turns out gay. Middle America. Parents still married. Suburban-sprouted. Valedictorian. Harvard-educated. Rhodes Scholarship. Military service. More power to him: I hope he and Chasten are very happy together. Genuinely, I do.
You couldn't create a more respectable gay if you grew one in a lab run by concerned voter focus groups.
But Pete Buttigieg? Is just a fag.
That's the part you don't seem to get: when they abandoned us, they abandoned all of us. Rock Hudson was a beloved movie star and even personally friendly with that horrid pair of ambitious jackals. Nancy Reagan refused to help him get into the only place in the world that could treat him at the time, and he died.
It was 1985, 4 years after the CDC first released papers on what would eventually become known as HIV/AIDS and 7 years after the first known death from an infection from HIV-2. Reagan hadn't even said the word AIDS by the time Hudson died.
Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, and so am I. Unless I'm a dyke, which seems to depend on who's yelling what from which window and what day it is.
Yes, there will be people who genuinely love and accept you. Those people are worth all the frustration of the rest, thankfully, and they're the ones who love you in a pup mask or a leather harness and a neon jock like the ones sold by the men up the row from us last weekend. They're the ones who laugh out loud when you tell them you hid the word "dyke" in your company name, the ones who love you in all your messiness and uncertainty and the way you don't fit into neat boxes all scrubbed up and clean.
Most cishets, though... well, they don't actively mean you specifically any harm, at least not when they have to look at you. Not when you're right there in front of them. Maybe they'll be okay with you, personally, especially if you're the kind of gay who makes a good rhetorical device, and as long as you remain a good rhetorical device.
They need people to know that they don't have a problem with the gays, after all, and there you are, being all convenient. You make a nice token, and as long as you do, well. You're useful.
But they call you by your deadname when you're not around, and they put the wrong pronouns in your medical record even though they met you years after you came out, and they won't put themselves out to save you. Not one little bit.
I didn't want to be here again. The year I graduated from high school was the worst year of the AIDS crisis. The world into which I became an adult was a world in which an advisor and friend to Reagan, William F. Buckley, openly advocated for forcibly tattooing the HIV status of HIV+ gay men on their buttocks (and IV drug users on their forearms), and in which my father not only told me that when I was 14 or so, but when was told me that he'd advocated for that tattoo being "over their assholes."
(Buckley wrote that in '86, but he doubled down on it in 2005.
Fucker.)
But yeah. I didn't want to be here again. I wanted my daughter to inherit a better world. I wanted Obergefell and Lawrence v. Texas and Hope & Change to really mean something. I work for it, today and all days. I haven't given up.
I need you to know that, too. This isn't a white flag. I'm not surrendering. This isn't over. To misquote Henry Rollins, this is what Marsha and Sylvia and Stormé and Leslie and Brenda and Auntie Sugar trained us for. This is punk rock time.
But I need you to understand that if Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, if that human embodiment of a Wonder Bread, mayo and Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich is not respectable enough for them -- and he's not -- then the rest of us have absolutely no hope of measuring up. Not even if we trim away every colorful, beautiful piece of our community, not even if the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence vanish into the ether, not even if we sacrifice the five elements of vogue on the altar of white supremacist cishet middle-class conformity: we can't trim ourselves down to something they'll accept.
The only other option is radical acceptance of our queer selves. The only other option is solidarity. The only other option is for fats and femme queens and drags and kinksters and queers and zine writers and sex workers and furries and addicts and kids and the ones who can look us in the eye and see all of us to say we're here, we're queer, get used to it just the way we did 30 years ago. It's revolutionary, complete and total acceptance of our entire community, not just the ones the cishets can pretend to be comfortable with as long as we don't challenge them too much, or it's conceding the shoreline inch by inch to the rising waters of fascism until we've got nowhere left to stand and some of us start drowning.
That's it. Either it's all of us or it's none of us, because if we leave the answer up to the Reagans of the world and all the people who enabled him in the name of lower taxes and Democrats who wring their hands, weeping oh I don't agree with it but we'll lose the election if we fight it right now, the answer is none of us.
The brunch gays can come, too, I guess.
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months
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Sleepy reader that constantly uses König's clothes as blankets or pjs whenever they're sleeping or outright just climbs onto Konig lap or just tackle hug him just so they could sleep hugging the 6'10 Austrian Colonel for warmth
I hope she enjoys making her adorable boyfriend getting a painful boner instantly!! Because this is what she is doing to him! Seriously, she can't just get up to him and lay across his lap and then expect him not to be completely crushed by the understanding of how freaking beautiful she is!! So so so pretty, it's insane...he will guard you like a dog - not allowing you to move even for an inch, and especially not allowing anyone to wake you up. He knows better than to shout while you're sleeping on him so innocently, but he will glare at anyone passing buy, not allowing them to disturb your beauty sleep. He can't help but stare at you while you're asleep. Wearing his shirt, probably naked under it - you were never one to wear pants at home, in all senses...you even smell like him, and he just adores it. Every last second he sees you, he understands exactly how much he freaking loves you. How much you deserve to be loved - and exactly how he wants for this to be. He is pressing his head against your hair, smelling in the mix of his musk and your shampoo. Gets his hands under your shirt, not enough to really wake you up, of course not, he is a gentleman, but enough to make you shiver. He could even snap a few pictures! For his personal collection, obviously, he would never share it with anyone...but he does like to jerk off to those pics - even though there is nothing erotic about your droolling sleepy face. You're wearing Konig's tactical mask vets/shrouds as a blanket and he just fucking adores it. If anyone ever questions the fact you've been taking his equipment and you shouldn't do this, he would break their necks. No one will stand between him and his adorable precious gorgeous girl! She is so sleepy, he totally doesn't do anything weird with water you drink so you could be even more sleepy and helpless and reliant on him for everything...
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laenordeservedbetter · 4 months
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Why?
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Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (Daughter of Athena)
Synopsis: Percy sees something he never expected to see.
Warnings: Fluff, kissing, confused Percy, Clarisse slander (Percy), fear of spiders. lmk if I missed any.
This one-shot is based on this tweet.
A/N: Hello, lovely people. I'm back. I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last wrote on here. My writing skills got rusty, but I hope you enjoy reading anyway.
not my gif. || masterlist
Percy was walking with Luke as the latter continued showing him the camp facilities that they didn’t get to go over in the original tour when he sees a strange sight that makes him stop walking. He squints his eyes, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. When his visions do not change, his eyebrows raise, almost going to the top of his head by how surprised he was.
Luke stops talking when he notices that Percy’s attention was elsewhere. He tries to follow Percy’s line of sight and chuckles when he does. “Oh, yeah. That.” Luke smiles, amused. “That happens pretty much every once in a while.”
“Should we help her?” Percy asks, mortified, as he refers to you. He felt uneasy, seeing you with Clarisse. She is the camp bully, isn’t she? People shouldn’t be leaving you alone with her. Something about the predicament he saw the two of you in seemed off. It shouldn’t be happening, that’s for sure. He steps forward, wanting to free you from the torture when Luke places a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from doing so.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Luke shakes his head, making sure Percy wasn’t going to make any more steps before he retracts his hand.
“Why are Clarisse and Y/n sitting with their backs to each other?” Percy looks up at Luke, knowing the older camper wasn’t going to let him interfere. The least Luke could do was answer his questions.
“They had a fight.” Luke explains simply, still with an amused smirk.
“Then why are they holding hands?”
“They get sad when they fight.” The raven-haired boy shrugs.
Percy doesn’t say anything, keeping up with his staring. It didn’t occur to him how creepy or weird it was, seeing how baffled he still is upon seeing you and Clarisse in the same room, and holding hands. It’s giving him the heebie-jeebies. What business did Clarisse have holding hands with one of the kindest people in camp? He didn’t like that idea, but there was nothing he could do about it. His only hope was that Clarisse doesn’t infect you with her bad attitude.
Meanwhile, inside the Athena cabin, you squeezed Clarisse’s hand three times, but you didn’t say a word. You were still pretty upset from the incident earlier.
Clarisse tried to look at you from her peripheral vision and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that her face was ridden with guilt. She sighs, “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tossed that spider to you when we were in the woods, even if I was freaked out.”
You had been walking in the woods together, hand in hand, when a spider fell on Clarisse’s shoulder. Her natural instinct was to kill it, but she didn’t have any weapons with her and she was starting to panic, so she did the first thing her brain told her to do. She flung the spider over to you despite knowing full well that you were afraid of them.
You take a deep breath, staying silent for a few seconds before saying, “I forgive you and I’m sorry for yelling and cursing you.” Your head hung low in shame. That wasn’t your proudest moment either. The things you said would have made even Chiron blush.
Clarisse gives out a huge sigh of relief, momentarily letting go of your hand so she can stand up. She walks over so she can finally be face to face with you. “It’s okay, I forgive you. You were freaking out too.” She wraps her arms around you, meeting your gaze with a smile.
“I thought my soul left my body at that point.” You pouted, bits of distress still not wearing off.
She cups your face, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “Do you feel better now?” She asks with a soft smile.
You can’t stop the smile from spreading to your face, too. You wrap your arms around her waist and hug her from your position on the chair, holding her tighter for maximum comfort. Clarisse laughs at how you didn’t want to let go, even after two minutes have passed.
“I love you so much. You know that, right?” Clarisse states, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“I know.” You murmur happily against her, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.
Outside the cabin, about ten feet away, Percy Jackson could be seen with his jaw dropped and eyes wider than before. “They’re dating?!” He exclaims, looking at Luke in a panic. It seems that he didn’t connect the dots until you and Clarisse kissed. And even then, it seemed like it wasn’t true. He wasn’t concerned anymore, just confused.
Luke’s brows furrowed. “Couldn’t you already tell by the way they were holding hands earlier?”
Percy stares at Luke, his mouth agape, then back to you and Clarisse, then back to Luke again, feeling like he was about to combust because of this new information. “What? No. Why would I even—”
Luke pulls Percy along, cutting his rambling short. “You have much to learn, Percy. So much.” He walks ahead, heading back to the Hermes cabin. “Come on. I’ll fill you in when we get back to the cabin.”
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in-som-niyah · 2 months
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GirlDad!Jason who supports you all throughout your pregnancy; holding your hair when you get sick, rubbing your sore feet and ankles, holding you through cramps/braxton hicks, buying you everything you craved etc.
GirlDad!Jason who cried for hours after she was born. His little girl, just as beautiful as you, all bundled up in soft blankets. He never believed he could love someone so much, it was like his entire body was burning with love and compassion for this little bean in his arms. For once, the world stopped, just for him.
GirlDad!Jason drives the most carefully he ever has in his life when coming back from the hospital. Despite your incessant giggling about how you've never seen him so scared, he drove like a damn senior citizen. He was carrying the most precious cargo, could you blame him?
GirlDad!Jason who changes diapers, feeds, bathes and plays with your daughter. He never leaves her for more than 5 minutes, and is involved to the point of mild annoyance. You would put your daughter down for 5 seconds and return to her gone, and in his arms. It's the most adorable thing though, you wouldn't trade it for the world.
GirlDad!Jason who can't stand to see your daughter upset. It's a trait he developed when she got to the toddler age, always fussing about everything she can't have and Jason giving in. Every time.
GirlDad!Jason who cries on her first day of kindergarten. Would never admit it though, but he hates seeing her grow up. He dreaded the day she learned how to tie her shoes and zip up her coat independently. It makes him feel like she doesn't need him anymore :(
GirlDad!Jason who will, without fail, play princesses, hair salon, tea party and barbies with his daughter. It doesn't matter if the world needs saving or if Bruce is up his ass, his daughter comes second to nothing. Even if it's to kiss a minor booboo she got while running around the house.
GirlDad!Jason who always brings back little trinkets and toys for his daughter. Her bedroom will be cluttered with stuffed animals and shiny things that caught his eye or reminded him of her. She would anticipate his key in the door which meant daddy brought home something for her. No matter how old she gets, he won't stop.
GirlDad!Jason who absolutely fucks up bullies. Be it in kindergarten or in college, Jason will make sure she and her friends are never bothered again. I cannot disclose his methods for legal reasons.
GirlDad!Jason who doesn't freak out about periods. He's so loving and supportive and doesn't ever make her feel ashamed about it. He'll bring her tea, hot chocolate, hot water bottles, painkillers, heating pads and rub her back if she's in a lot of pain. He'll take the day off to stay with her, and never force her to go to school on those days.
GirlDad!Jason who absolutely spoils his daughter shamelessly. Mom said no more sweets? Well dad sure isn't going to place a bag of candy under her pillow the next day. She wants a car for her 16th birthday? His baby gets a pink Porsche with a bow on top. She's obsessed with X artist? All the merch in the world miraculously ends up in her room.
GirlDad!Jason who will tower menacingly over her first partner. It doesn't matter how much you or your daughter like them, Jason's imagining a thousand ways to hide their dismembered body.
GirlDad!Jason who needs to be talked down from killing said partner when he finds his daughter balled up in a crying mess on her bed when they break up. Nobody makes his precious girl sad. He'll definitely egg their house without your knowledge. He buys her everything she could ever ask for to make her feel better, no matter how stupidly expensive.
GirlDad!Jason who's always up to a conversation. No matter how embarrassing or personal, he'll listen and give honest advice. Because he's so open, your daughter almost never hides anything from him.
GirlDad!Jason who bawls after dropping her off at university. Again, would never admit it, but sleeps on the floor of her bedroom for the first month she's away. He can't help but miss his little (adult) girl. He also flips through pictures and videos on his phone of when your daughter was little and sheds a few tears. Honestly it only makes you love him more.
GirlDad!Jason who still doesn't like your daughter's college partner. He's better this time around, but still. Don't put murder past him. Yet.
GirlDad!Jason who cries when your daughter shows him her shiny new engagement ring. He's so excited yet terrified. His baby girl is all grown up now.
GirlDad!Jason who walks your daughter down the isle with the brightest smile on his face. He slowly comes around to liking her fiancé(é) and honestly wishes them well.
GirlDad!Jason who meets your daughter at the hospital, ready to meet his new granddaughter for the first time. He holds her in his arms, just like he did his daughter, and gleams knowing the cycle is repeating itself. He couldn't be more excited.
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a/n: sequel to this post i guess??? i needed something cute with jason and his daughter bc..... well..... we don't talk about my own father :D
night night guys
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marvelouslizzie · 6 months
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I'm Not Sure If I Can Do This
Summary: You want to try something new and Bucky isn't sure if he can do it.
Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+, established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, edging, no protection, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 1.9K
A/N: I wrote this little filthy story because of my friend Andreea's prompt. I'm glad it turned out to be something decent.
You can also send me requests if you want. I can't guarantee I'll write it but I'll certainly try.
Thank you @notafunkiller for proofreading and editing ❤️
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
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You thought explaining why you wanted this or even convincing him to do it would be harder, but it was quite the opposite. Bucky Barnes is a guy who loves to give, especially when it comes to pleasure. It’s like he’s thriving on your pleasure while he’s delaying his own. He never made you wait or made you beg for release. Not once. And you really want to be desperate for some reason. And you have no intention to find out why. You just want to experience it. You want him to tease you relentlessly, deny your orgasm, and finally when he allows it, you want it to be explosive.
It’s easy to imagine him doing all those things to you, but the idea of explaining it is just dreadful. That’s why you were so reluctant. You weren’t sure if he would like the idea or maybe he would misunderstand your intention. None of that happened, though. You just said you wanted to try it and as you started to explain why, you noticed how his eyes were shining mischievously. That’s when you realized it was more than okay for him.
And that’s how you ended up all naked and frustrated on your bed. Bucky is a man of his word, so when he said he was going to enjoy this, he was not lying. He has been teasing you for a while now, and all you feel is frustration and of course, that undeniable anticipation. 
“Bucky…” You whine as he’s moving so damn slowly inside you. The touches, the kisses, his damn tongue… It all feels good but not enough to make you come.
“Yes?” 
The way he looks into your eyes makes you melt. You are so close to forgetting that he has been torturing you. He has been denying your orgasm every time you are getting close, yet the look in his eyes… It shows his true feelings.
“What do you want, baby?”
He sounds like he has no idea what you want. You wish you could hate him for this, but you can’t. You’ve been imagining how this would feel like for so long, and he’s just turning your fantasy into reality while enjoying the ride.
“I wanna come.” 
You don’t care if you sound desperate because you are. You are desperate to come. You want that relief you took for granted for so long. All those times he never denied you, all those times he never even paused for a second before giving you all the pleasure in the world.
“Beg for it.”
His response surprises you. You can see the desire in his eyes and how much he’s actually enjoying this, but you never expected that he would be so into it. Maybe he didn’t know it either, but he definitely loves the state you are in. He even seems to enjoy edging himself because while torturing you, he’s torturing himself as well.
“Beg?”
“Yes, baby. Beg. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I-” You can’t deny that, can you? You always imagined it this way, but you never actually begged before. It’s easier when you are just imagining things, but looking at his face and saying those words… It feels incredibly hard.
“If you are not ready to beg yet, you are not ready to come, sweetheart.”
Oh, that’s awfully cruel of him yet so freaking hot. He knows you want to do this so badly, but your pride is standing in the way, and he’s willing to take you to the point where you wouldn’t care about it anymore. Yet your mouth says something else.
“But I am so close…” 
“I know.” He moves in and out of you. His pace is torturously slow, yet it still feels amazing.
Then his fingers move onto your clit, gently rubbing it, and you feel a jolt of electricity all through your body. It’s like a promise. The promise of blinding pleasure, but he stops after a couple of rubs and makes you whine.
“You know what you have to say, don’t you?” You nod in response, tears are beginning to well up. “You can get what you want, any time you want.” You know that, but it’s like your mouth is having a hard time saying those words. “And you know we can stop this any time you want, right?”
He’s trying to remind you of your safe word, but you don’t want to stop. You have no intention of using it.
“Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetically, but it makes him smile. Why is it so hard to say? 
“Please what?” He combines his words with actions. He moves a little bit harder inside you, and it reminds you of what you need. All you need is to ask him, and you know he will give it to you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, bracing yourself to beg.
“Please move harder.” When you open your eyes back up, you see Bucky smirking. It just spurs something inside you. “Please, please…”
“Oh, baby…” He sounds so condescending yet loving at the same time. You have no idea how that’s even possible. “You really need it, don’t you?”
“Yes!” Your answer comes out instantly. Fuck your pride, you need this.
“Then you will get what you want.” You feel relieved but it doesn’t last long. “But I have one condition.” He completely stops while talking. “You won’t come before I say you can, got it?”
“But…”
“I will move faster and harder, like you asked me to, but you gotta hold it.” He sounds like he’s explaining edging to someone who has no idea what it is. “Show me what a good girl you can be, and I will give you what you want.”
Fuck… He’s making it so hard and hot at the same time. You really didn’t think he would take it this seriously. You thought just a please would be enough for him but it’s not. Yet you can’t seem to find it in your heart to regret asking him to do this.
“Can you do that for me?”
“I… I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before.”
“I know you can take it, sweetheart. Just show me how good you are.”
He’s a menace. He knows praising you will help and he’s using it damn well. So you find yourself nodding, and that’s when he finally starts to move again. 
His hands are grabbing your waist, while he’s fucking you the way you imagined it. It’s rough, it’s fast, but god damn, it feels amazing. You feel your orgasm is quickly approaching, especially after all that teasing, and you try not to focus on the pleasure. It’s so hard to move against your nature. Your body just wants to give into it and enjoy it to the fullest, but no, that’s not what your mind wants. So you close your eyes to fight it. Maybe that will help.
“No, no, no.” You hear Bucky saying. “You gotta look me in the eyes, baby. No cheating.”
“But that’s not…” He doesn’t let you finish. 
“But it is.” 
“Fine.” You know you sound like a child when you open your eyes back to see his pretty ones. They are so full of love and desire. You could come just looking into his eyes but you won’t. Not until he says so. You want to experience that crashingly intense orgasm.
“Good girl.” 
As if calling you a good girl with that deep voice of his isn’t enough, he starts to gently rub your clit and you can feel yourself clenching around him. Your pussy is begging for release. So are you.
“You are doing so good for me, baby.” His voice is full of adoration. “You look so beautiful. All spread for me. Just waiting for my command to come around my cock.” He slams so hard inside you that it makes you moan even though you were trying to hold back all this time. “Let me hear you. You make such pretty noises.”
“Please, Bucky.” It’s so hard to hold back. You can feel tears running down your cheeks. You never wanted to come this badly in your life before. “Please let me come.”
Finally, those words come out of your mouth. It has been a tough journey, but finally, you can ignore your pride and just ask for what you really want.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” He suddenly pushes your legs onto your chest, practically folding you into two. That allows him to move deeper inside you. “You can come now,” he says right before he starts to move again.
And just like that, you start coming on his command. It’s unbelievable how your body was just waiting for four words to come out of his mouth. All that teasing, all the build-up and anticipation pays off. Your whole body starts to shake while he’s railing you like there’s no tomorrow. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted with the most delicious moans coming out of them. 
“That’s it, baby. Take it all.” He sounds like he’s close himself, but you are too lost in the bubble of pleasure to do or say something about it. 
It’s nothing like you have ever felt before. It’s so intense that there’s no thought in your mind, other than Bucky and how good he makes you feel. It’s so long that you forget to breathe for a while. Your ears are buzzing, and your muscles are contracting. You never knew this was possible. You never knew it would be better than you imagined.
When you finally come down from your high, you open your eyes to see Bucky with the most pleased expression. He hasn’t come yet. You can feel how hard he’s inside you, but you can see how accomplished he feels.
“God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He keeps moving with the same pace, chasing his high.
“Come for me, Bucky,” you say while you reach out to touch his face. He has been working so hard to make your fantasy real. “Come inside me. Please.”
“Fuck.” You can see he’s about to come. The veins around his eyes get so visible when he’s close. “You want it, baby?” His voice comes out like a groan.
“Yes. I want it. Please, give it to me.”
That does it. You just watch how he starts to come and damn, it’s such a pretty sight. You have seen this many times before, but it never ceases to surprise you. Him losing himself in pleasure like that… Especially when you know you are the reason for it. You are the reason why he’s so turned on. You are the reason why he comes so hard. You are the one doing this to him. 
When he’s done, he gently moves out and rolls next to you. You whine a little because of how empty you suddenly feel. You feel his hot and deep breaths on your neck. As soon as you think you are feeling a little cold, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid someone else will hear you.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I enjoyed that.”
“Oh, I saw how much you enjoyed it, Mr. I’m Not Sure If I Can Do This.”
He scoffs at you bringing up his first reaction. Oh, how wrong he was. It was a completely unexpected experience.
“Maybe we should try choking next time.” You test the waters reluctantly, but the look he’s giving you is nothing but promising.
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pathetichimbos · 8 months
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Thomas cries a lot.
He's always been sensitive, every since he was a kid. The names other kids and hell, even adults called him cut deep every time he heard them.
Idiot.
Monster.
Freak.
Tears pluck at his brown eyes harshly as the majority of the schoolyard torments him, the teachers turning blind eyes to the mistreatment, too busy making their own comments about his mother and family to intervene.
"S-Stop--!" He hiccups, hands desperately covering his face as he shakes against the metal fence, "G-Give it back!"
"Come get it, Freak!" The little boy taunts him, holding the mask Thomas' mother made for him high in the air, the group of children around him erupting in laughter.
"HEY! What the hell's goin' on over here!?" Hoyt hollers as he yanks the bully up by his wrist, the kids mocking laughter interrupted as they scatter, "What the hell's wrong with you, boy!? Did your Daddy raise you to take shit that ain't yours!?"
Hoyt plucks the mask from the kid's hand as he shakes his head, wide eyed and scared at being caught red handed.
"That's what I thought, so why don't you scatter before I give him a call and tell him what the hell you've been doin'."
"Yes, sir!" The kid darts as soon as Hoyt lets him go.
"Little shit." Hoyt mutters, kneeling down to help Thomas put his mask back on, "Now, I done told you, Tommy, you can't cry everytime one of those little bastards says some shit to you. Man up, you're too damn old for all that whinin'..."
Thomas nods, wiping the tears from his red eyes as Hoyt takes him back to the truck.
Man up...
Man up...
That's what Hoyt and Monty always told him, their words not much kinder and cutting even deeper as they picked at him everytime he cried.
Over the years the tears eventually turned to anger, and isolation. Hiding himself away from everyone and everything around him, protecting himself from from harsh world around him.
...And then there was you.
Sweet, excitable, gentle you.
"...Tommy...!" Your voice is tired and sweet, clearly having just woken up when Thomas came in the room.
He watches as you stretch, waking up a bit more as you look up at him, a small smile on your face.
He's tired. It's written on his face, eyes droopy and shoulders slumping, standing over the bed, looking down at you.
"C'mere." You reach for him, hands grasping as you gesture for him to climb in bed.
He does as he's told, climbing under the covers and into your arms, melting into your warmth as he lays on top of you.
"Mmm..." You hum, relaxing as your arms wrap around him, your hands running up and down his back, sending shivers up his spine, "...My Thomas..."
He sighs at your words, melting even further against you as your hands gain rhythm and begin rubbing his aching muscles, working up and down his shoulders and back as he buries his face in your neck.
You lean your head against his, the smell of the shampoo you bought for him filling your nose as you continue rubbing his back, "...I love you..."
The arms around your waist tighten as he presses further into you, completely engulfing you in his presence.
How?
How is it possible for you to love him so incredibly, and so deeply that he doesn't even need to hear those words to know their truth? How could you possibly break down every piece of him, every broken part and hideous truth and still make him feel like the only thing that matters in the world?
You can feel him start to shake. He's been working so hard, for so long. He's exhausted, and worn down. His body is scarred and calloused. His mind is weary and weak.
And every insult, every hit, every bad thing that he's ever gone through was worth it, if it means he can feel this loved for the rest of his life.
You feel his tears before you see them, the quiver in his shoulders, the hiccups in your ear as he tries to hold it back.
"Oh, Tommy..." You mutter, kissing his hair as you rub his back, "It's okay, sweetheart, you can cry, I've got you..."
And for the first time in a long time, he does.
He cries into your shoulder, a shaking and sobbing mess as you patiently hold him through it, running your hands through his hair and rubbing his back as you coax him.
"There we go..." You coo as he pulls back, holding his face in your hands while you kiss his tear stained cheeks, his mask long forgotten before he climbed into bed, "Do you feel better, love?"
He nods, letting out a deep sigh as he relaxes against you again, feeling more relief than he has in years.
"Good..."
...Thomas cries a lot. After years of believing he was never good enough to be loved, of believing his place was being locked away in the basement, forever shielding himself from the world that hated him, he was proven wrong by a single person who loves him more than every good thing put together.
And that thought alone brings tears to his eyes.
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f1fnatic · 7 months
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HORROR GAMES ⤿ l. norris 4
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→ ( in which. . . ) you get bored while lando is streaming a popular horror game, so you decide to pull a prank on him.
→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written
→ ( pairing. . . ) lando norris x reader (gender not specified)
→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) none
→ ( author's note. . . ) this one is shorter than the others, but its short and sweet. i hope you enjoy! see end for more
→ ( masterlist )
screams were heard coming from down the hall. you were sat underneath a knitted blanket, watching some new show on the tv. lando was in his office streaming something on twitch. he mentioned it was a horror game.
in the past, lando had voiced to you that he was not a fan of horror games. "they're unnecessary. what's the point?" he'd said.
"they're funny. especially when scaredy cats like you play them and freak out." you responded, poking his chest with your finger. he swatted your hand away and giggled. "maybe you should try one out, play with ria and max." you suggested, shrugging.
"that would be hell." he deadpanned.
"oh, c'mon, lando! they're not that bad!" you tried to reason with him. but you knew once lando was set on something, no amount of convincing could sway him.
while watching your show, a thought came to mind. you could pull a little prank on lando. i mean, you were bored and he was too engrossed in his horror game to pay attention to anything going on outside of his office, and maybe even inside of it.
you grabbed the tv remote and pressed paused, the audio stopped, and frames froze. you got up from the couch and quietly made your way down the hall to lando's office.
slowly opening the door, you saw the back of his fluffy head of curls as well as the back of his gaming chair. the way his office was set up was his desk was on the wall adjacent to the door. meaning, his chat saw you in the doorway before he did.
on your tiptoes, you stalked toward his desk. he was talking nonsense. nonsense about the game, about how he got into this situation, and about how stupid he was for listening to you and actually playing the game.
the chat was moving quickly, but lando was too focused on his monitor and the game to pay attention to it. you noticed a few people were trying to catch his attention, so you placed your pointer finger to your lips in a shushing motion.
you slowly brought your hands to grab lando's chair, at the same time, you mentally prepared for his reaction. knowing him, it was going to be big.
finally, you shook his chair and yelled. lando flew out of his chair and onto the floor. his headphones falling off and landing next to him. you stepped back and doubled over in laughter.
he looked up from where he was lying on the floor, a look of pure horror was displayed on his face. you quickly snapped a picture of him on your phone for safekeeping.
"y/n!" he shouted. "what was that for?!"
you couldn't stop laughing. your stomach hurt, so bad. everything from his reaction to his face was priceless. you knew his chat was enjoying this as much as were.
"y/n!" he whined.
"i-i'm sorry, lan!" you respond trying to catch your breath. tears were starting to catch on your waterline. "it was the perfect opportunity! i couldn't pass it up!"
he got up on his knees and kneeled in front of his desk. he put on a pouty face while looking at chat. "it wasn't that funny chat. i almost had a heart attack!"
"oh lan," you start, moving forward to stand behind him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and bending down to rest your chin on his head atop his curls, "you can't have a heart attack, who will i scare in the future?"
lando rolls his eyes playfully and smiles. "uh huh, just wait till i scare you. i'm sure you won't be laughing then, love." butterflies fluttered in your stomach. you loved it when he called you that.
you couldn't help but let out a small giggle at his response. this type of banter was a staple in your relationship.
"whatever you say, lan. whatever you say."
ahhhh its been so long since i posted </3 i have been slammed with soccer, school, and i have had no motivation or ideas on what to post. this has been in my drafts for so long. its not the best or longest ever, i just wanted to get something out and posted. thank you for reading! as usual, feedback and requests are welcome, and make sure to leave a comment and kudos! (only if you want :P)
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Can you write a one shot with Daddy Pascal? They have an age gap of 20 years and she’s super nervous to go public with him cause she’s afraid that his fans won’t like her? And he comfort her
A/n: hell yes I can, and hopefully you'll like this. Also this gif is freaking hot.
Pairing: Pedro Daddy Pascal x reader
second part || Masterlist
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"It's not that easy."
"It is." Pedro stood closer to you. "I just want to be able to call you mine in public."
You sighed, gnawing on the peeling skin of your lips, something you do when nervous. "I.. I can't."
"What?"
"I can't, I'm sorry.. I just.. I can't. Not now."
Pedro couldn't believe his ears. Both of you have been together for two years, and this has been the one thing Pedro wanted. But he kept it a secret for you, because of the age gap, because he knew you weren't ready.
But now after two years.. you're still not ready.. so what now?
---
That conversation was a week ago. Pedro got pretty upset after that, wouldn't really call you when he's on break, wouldn't tell you if he's coming home, wouldn't call you pet names -- but you understood. Pedro was justifiably upset, but you didn't think it was a good idea to go public at the moment. And it's all because of-
Pedro shut the door with a soft thud and was surprised to see you lying on the couch on your phone.
"Hey. You're still awake?" He asked, though you're obviously still are.
"Yeah, I was just browsing social media." You gave him a little smile.
Pedro nodded and proceeded to go to your shared room. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes did not go unnoticed by you, and the way he was walking tells you he was probably from a nightclub.
It's not like you two had to report your location or schedule at all times, but usually going to a nightclub is something you tell your partner.
You shook your head, not wanting to overthink it, but your thoughts kept coming back to it, and so you followed him to the bedroom and asked him.
"Were you out clubbing?"
Pedro sighed and undressed, ready to go shower. "Yeah, it was a last minute thing with some coworkers. Sorry I forgot to tell you."
"'S okay." You offered another small smile.
Ignored. Pedro walked past you to the bathroom.
As he was showering, you wondered how you should talk to Pedro about going public. It's not like you didn't want to, but have you seen the amount of fans Pedro has?
The amount of people that call him daddy, that make edits of his movies, his interviews? The amount of people who love him?
And if they find out that he's dating someone who's about 20 years younger than he is, what would happen to him? Would he be accused of grooming? Would his fans understand?
You didn't realize how long you've been standing at the same spot until Pedro gently touched your back after his shower.
"Cariño, are you feeling okay?"
Cariño.
You looked at him and exhaled. "Can we talk?"
Pedro had a feeling he knew what you wanted to say. He sighed and sat on the bed, with only his damp towel hugging his waist.
"So, have you decided I'm too old for you?"
You frowned, "what?"
"Let me guess, it's been fun but you want to find someone who's closer to your age? Or is it because you realized this lifestyle isn't for you?"
You felt a little hurt. Did Pedro really think you're going to break up with him because of this? "Pedro, I'm not breaking up with you."
"Then what is it? I've been holding back mentioning your name during interviews when they ask me if I have someone I love, and yes, I do - It's you! I love you, so so much. I want to be able to bring you to places, show you off - I know it's probably a lot to ask, but cariño... I.." he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.
He was obviously frustrated, and this was mostly the aftermath of the alcohol talking. You sat next to him and held his hand.
"I'm scared." You admitted.
"Cariño-"
"Do you know how many videos of you are out there? Ones that your fans make, some even edit them from interviews from years ago. Or how many fanfictions there are of you? Or just the amount of fans you have that worship you day and night?"
You looked at him, worry in your eyes. "They all love you and look up to you so much, and so do I. I don't want to.. to ruin your life because we're going public. We have a huge age gap between us, that doesn't normally sit well with people."
"I also want to show everyone you're mine.. you know how ugly jealous I get when I see some of your costars flirting with you on the red carpet." You placed a hand on his cheek.
Pedro chuckled, leaning into your touch. "I guess I hadn't thought about that part.."
He pulled you closer to sit on his lap, his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. "But I still want to. If they're really my fans, they'll understand. And yes, our age gap is.. pretty big, but I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."
"You are.. mi amor, mi vida. And I'd do anything to be with you." He kissed you softly.
You ran your hands through his hair, and they rested on his neck. "Okay."
"Okay?" You could hear the excitement in his voice.
"Okay." You nodded, reassuring him.
He gave you the biggest grin he had as he hugged you and pulled you both to lay down on the bed, laughing while he was at it.
"Then it's decided. You're coming to the next red carpet with me. As mine."
----
A/n: my crush on this man is starting to feel dangerous.
second part
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the fact that i can physically feel myself losing weight every time i’m at my mom’s even though she prides herself on eating healthy and cooking for me all the time (which is a lie) and i gain the weight back every time i go back to my dad’s says a lot about both of them. i am a recovering bulimic who hasn’t relapsed in a while, so that isn’t actually all that relevant, but i feel like it’s important context.
#i go to bed hungry every night when i'm with her. like. truly it's hellish. i've lost nearly forty pounds since we moved last year just from#not eating bc of her.#/vent#personal#parents tw#my dad tag#< bc yeah. i mentioned him#<333 love you.#weight tw#ed tw#food tw#she just loves lying about buying and cooking for me bc it makes her feel better about herself.#i swear to g-d please. now that she lives in the middle of nowhere she goes shopping even less. so i can't cook much for myself either btw.#and i have to spend more of my time with her.#</333 it just makes me so angry. i can't stand living with her. it'd be so much better if her piece of shit bf who's only slightly older#than i am (and she yells at me for liking older men. ok cougar lmao eahbfshbfjdsh) didn't live with us.#he's never put his hands on me but he's every other extreme bad you could think of. he's a computer generated alt-right dudebro.#going to incorporate ok cougar into my lexicon. that's funny and horrible and a bit rude. golden.#myevilposts#and i'm having a freak out right now. running around eating far too much because i never want to feel that hungry again.#like is there any wonder i had and have eating issues when i've had her in my life all my life?#i'm never absolutely dying of starvation and i don't go days without eating but you've got to understand that i'm barely getting a quarter#of what i (a chronically ill growing teenager) need nutritionally and it's affecting both my physical and mental health.
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halogalopaghost · 2 months
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While the turtles are staying with April in season one, she has a somewhat hard time keeping food in the fridge. Four mutant turtle teens are no joke as far as appetite is concerned, and the novelty of having 100% new and fresh foods in the fridge at all times is not lost on them. They have to be encouraged a couple times to help themselves, and when they finally do it's like an apocalypse on her fridge.
She also enjoys introducing them to new things during this time. She brings home one of those TUBS of pillsbury cookie dough to make them fresh chocolate chip cookies. Before they're in the oven, Mikey finds her and she lets him have some of the dough.
And then Donnie comes into the kitchen and freezes when he sees them. He looks at the dough. He looks at Mikey. He looks at April.
"Did you let Mikey have chocolate?"
April looks at him. Looks at Mikey. "...Yes?"
Don FREAKS out and smacks the spoon out of Mikey's hand. "We can't have chocolate, we're severely allergic!"
April PANICS. "What?? I didn't know, I'm so sorry!"
"What do you mean you didn't know?" Don asks, clutching his baby brother to his chest like he's about to perish. Mikey looks confused. "You wouldn't give chocolate to a dog, would you?"
April's freaking out escalates. Dogs aren't supposed to have chocolate! She knows that much. "What do I do? Should we—uh—go to the ER?"
"Are you insane?" Don has Mikey practically in a headlock and Mikey is—crying? Choking? "We need a VET, April!"
Splinter, whose dad-sense is tingling so hard that his fur is standing on end, enters the kitchen ominously. "Boys. I hope you're behaving and being kind to our host."
April is like, five seconds away from just dying of sheer embarrassment and worry. She looks at Splinter with huge eyes, about to admit she's POISONED his son, and then Don dissolves into giggles.
She stares at him, open mouthed in shock. He releases Mikey, who as it turns out, is also giggling. The chokehold was doing little to suppress it. Splinter puts his head in his hand.
"I'm just kidding April. We eat chocolate just fine."
She has to take another long moment to process the shock and calm her heart down. Don's laughing so hard he's tearing up.
April has never had little siblings before. She used to wonder what it would be like, and there was a time in her life where she had even wanted a little brother or sister to tease and love.
She did not know the true nature of little siblings. Which is evil, naturally.
She chases Don out of the kitchen with the biggest wooden spoon she has, and Splinter HOPES she catches him.
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