#He's good with people! Stop calling him stupid!

[pucksandpower]

Under the Mistletoe

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando really wants you to kiss him under the mistletoe. Sounds normal enough, right? Wrong! So wrong

Warnings: 18+ content and description of an allergic reaction

The apartment is finally quiet. The muffled thrum of conversation and laughter that had filled every corner just hours ago has faded, leaving only the faint crackle of the fireplace in the living room. It smells like pine needles, spiced cider, and the faint citrus tang of your new body wash. You pad softly down the hallway in your slippers, the wooden floor cool beneath your feet.

“Lando?” You call, peeking into the dimly lit bedroom.

He’s there, of course, but the sight that greets you isn’t what you expect.

Lando is lying on his back, smack in the middle of the bed, arms folded behind his head like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s wearing nothing. Absolutely nothing … except for a single, strategic adornment. Tied with what looks like a strip of red ribbon, a sprig of mistletoe dangles provocatively from his dick.

“Seriously?” You stop in the doorway, blinking. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Happy Christmas,” he says, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s an invitation.” He tilts his head slightly, his curls a messy halo against the pillow. “You’ve got to kiss me.”

“Oh, I’ve got to, have I?” You fold your arms, biting back a smile.

“Under the mistletoe,” he clarifies, as if that makes it any less ridiculous. “It’s the rules. I don’t make them.”

“You absolutely made this up.”

Lando shrugs, utterly unrepentant. “Does it matter?”

You stand there for a moment, torn between amusement and disbelief. “You know, normal people just leave cookies for Santa. Not …” You gesture vaguely at him, at the ribbon, at everything.

“Not everything has to be normal,” he says, his grin softening slightly. There’s something teasing in his tone, but there’s sincerity, too. “Come on, it’s Christmas. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love me for it.”

There’s no point denying it. You do love him — ridiculous, over-the-top antics and all. With a sigh that’s more for show than anything else, you take a few steps closer to the bed.

“Alright,” you say, pretending to consider. “Where exactly am I supposed to kiss you? The mistletoe’s not even …” You trail off, waving a hand vaguely in the air.

Lando smirks, his eyes dancing. “Where do you think?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you say again, but you’re already climbing onto the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, and Lando watches, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re not protesting much,” he points out.

“Shut up.”

“You could have just stayed in the doorway, you know. Told me off or something. But no, here you are-”

“Lando,” you cut in, leaning over him.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Your lips are on his before he can say anything else, cutting off whatever smug reply he had planned. His hands slide instinctively to your waist, pulling you closer as you kiss him.

It’s not rushed. The night has been long, full of people and noise and obligations, and this moment feels like a welcome reprieve. Lando’s mouth is warm, insistent but unhurried, and you let yourself get lost in it for a while, your fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally pull back, he looks up at you, flushed and grinning.

“Good start,” he says, his voice a little breathless.

“Don’t push your luck.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Really?”

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admits, his grin widening.

Shaking your head, you shift your attention downward. The ribbon, the mistletoe — it’s so absurd you have to laugh.

“Did you seriously tie this yourself?” You ask, running a finger lightly along the edge of the ribbon.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Fine, yes. Took me a solid twenty minutes, too. Those stupid YouTube tutorials make it look way easier than it is.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he says, his voice dropping slightly, “you’re still here.”

You meet his gaze, your laughter fading. The teasing, playful look in his eyes hasn’t disappeared, but there’s something else there now — something softer, more vulnerable. It’s the look he gets when he’s reminding you, without words, just how much you mean to him.

“Well,” you say quietly, “it is Christmas.”

“And you’ve got to follow the rules,” he murmurs.

“Right.”

The bed creaks slightly as you shift again, positioning yourself more comfortably. You lean down, pressing another kiss to his lips — gentler this time, more lingering. Then you trail kisses along his jaw, his collarbone, the faint dusting of freckles across his chest.

Lando lets out a soft, contented sigh, his hands finding your hips again. “You’re taking this very seriously,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement.

“I’m nothing if not thorough.”

“Lucky me.”

You glance up at him briefly, smirking. “You’ve no idea.”

When you finally reach the ribbon, you pause, your lips hovering just above it. Lando’s breathing hitches slightly, his grip on your waist tightening.

“Merry Christmas, Lando,” you murmur.

“Best Christmas ever,” he replies, his voice low and fervent.

And then, with deliberate slowness, you kiss him under the mistletoe.

You pause for a beat, the mistletoe brushing lightly against your cheek. Lando’s breathing is heavier now, his chest rising and falling beneath you. He’s trying to stay still, but his fingers dig into your skin, betraying how much control he’s losing.

“You alright up there?” You ask, teasing, your voice low.

“You know I’m not,” he mutters, his words strained.

“Good.”

And with that, you continue. Deliberate. Unhurried. Every movement of your mouth is purposeful, every touch designed to unravel him. Lando groans, low and broken, the sound rumbling through the quiet room like a storm on the horizon.

“Fuck, you’re …” He cuts himself off, his head tipping back into the pillow. His hands flex against your hips, as if holding you steady is the only thing grounding him.

“Say it,” you murmur, barely pulling away for a second.

He glances down at you, his hazel eyes dark and glassy. “You’re killing me,” he manages, his voice hoarse.

You smile, the corners of your mouth curving just slightly before you return to your task. Lando’s hands slip from your shoulders, clutching the sheets instead. He’s completely undone now — his breathing ragged, his head thrown back, his body trembling beneath you.

“F-fuck … close,” he stammers, his words tumbling out like he’s barely holding them together.

You hum softly in acknowledgment, the vibration of it drawing a sharp, involuntary gasp from him. It’s all he can take.

He breaks.

A strangled sound escapes his throat as his body tenses, and you taste the telltale musky warmth on your tongue. You stay where you are for a moment, letting him ride out the high, his grip on the sheets going slack.

When it’s over, you pull back slowly, swallowing before wiping at the corner of your mouth. One drop clings stubbornly to your lip, and you swipe it away with your thumb, catching Lando’s hazy, satisfied gaze as you do.

“You alright there?” You ask softly, your tone light but full of affection.

“Barely,” he mutters, his voice thick. He exhales sharply, his chest still heaving as he lets his head fall to the side, watching you with a dazed grin. “You’re-”

“What?” You tilt your head innocently, wiping your hand on a tissue before tossing it onto the nightstand.

“Perfect,” he finishes, his voice soft and full of something deeper than just the moment.

You laugh quietly, crawling up the bed to lie beside him. He pulls you close immediately, one arm draped over your waist, the other brushing back a strand of hair from your face.

“Was this your master plan all along?” You tease, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Maybe,” he admits, still catching his breath.

“And?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” He grins, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

You roll your eyes but smile against his skin. “Merry Christmas, Lando.”

“Happy Christmas,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with exhaustion and contentment.

For a moment, neither of you says anything more. The only sound is the quiet crackle of the fire in the distance, and the world beyond the bedroom feels miles away.

Eventually, Lando breaks the silence. “So … same thing next year?”

You shove him playfully, laughing as his grin widens. “Go to sleep.”

And with him wrapped around you, the warmth of his love settling over you like a blanket, you do.

***

The morning light creeps through the curtains, warm and soft, a stark contrast to the frantic energy in the room. You stir awake first, stretching lazily until you feel Lando shift beside you, letting out a low, uncomfortable groan.

“Ugh,” he mutters, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean, wrong?” You mumble sleepily, rolling over to look at him.

He doesn’t respond immediately, just shifts again, his body stiff and tense. Then he sits up abruptly, wincing as if every movement hurts.

“Lando?” You ask, more alert now.

“It … hurts,” he says, glancing down at himself. “Like, bad.”

You follow his gaze, and that’s when you see it. The redness. The swelling.

“Oh my God,” you say, your voice shooting up an octave. You sit up fully, the sleepiness disappearing in an instant. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” He exclaims, his face a mixture of panic and embarrassment. “It was fine last night!”

“Well, it’s not fine now!” You scoot closer, carefully inspecting the irritated skin. It’s blotchy, bright red, and looks alarmingly angry.

“It’s swollen,” he groans.

“No kidding.”

“What do we do?” He asks, his voice bordering on frantic.

“First, calm down,” you say, though your own voice isn’t exactly steady. “Second … oh my God, Lando, do you think it’s the mistletoe?”

His eyes widen as the realization hits. “You think I’m allergic?”

“Do you have any idea where that stuff’s been stored? It’s probably coated in dust or pollen or something. Or-” Your voice catches. “Do you think you’ve always been allergic?”

“I’ve never, uh … put it on my cock before, so how would I know?”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, panic simmering between you.

“We need help,” Lando says finally.

“Like … a doctor?”

“No!” He yelps. “We’re not going to a doctor for this!”

“Then what-”

“Call Jon,” he blurts out, cutting you off.

“What?” You ask, incredulous. “Your performance coach?”

“Yeah! He knows, like, medical stuff. And he won’t make it weird.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow but grab your phone anyway, scrolling to Jon’s number. “Oh, this isn’t going to be awkward at all,” you mutter as it rings.

“Hello?” Jon answers, sounding far too chipper for the situation.

“Uh, hi, Jon,” you begin, exchanging a look with Lando. “It’s Y/N. Lando and I have … a bit of a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Jon asks, his voice immediately shifting to professional concern.

“Well …” You trail off, glancing at Lando, who gestures frantically for you to continue. “It’s kind of … personal.”

“Y/N,” Jon says patiently, “you’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

You let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Okay, fine. Lando’s … area is swollen and covered in a rash.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“… Come again?” Jon finally says, and you can practically hear him trying not to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” Lando shouts from the bed. “It’s serious!”

“Oh, it’s serious?” Jon repeats, his voice full of barely concealed amusement. “Alright. How did this happen?”

You hesitate, then mumble, “He … tied mistletoe to it last night.”

Jon doesn’t reply immediately, but the faint sound of him choking back laughter comes through the line.

“Can you help or not?” Lando snaps, his cheeks flushing red — whether from anger or embarrassment, you’re not sure.

“Okay, okay,” Jon says, his tone softening. “It’s probably an allergic reaction. Clean the area thoroughly, apply a topical antihistamine if you have one, and keep it elevated to reduce swelling.”

“Elevated?” You echo, frowning. “How are we supposed to-”

“Just do your best,” Jon says, clearly suppressing a laugh again. “And if it doesn’t improve in a few hours, you might need to, uh … consult a professional.”

“Thanks, Jon,” you say quickly, hanging up before Lando can yell again.

Lando groans, flopping back onto the bed. “This is the worst Christmas ever.”

“You’ll survive,” you say, grabbing the first-aid kit from the bathroom. “Now, let me see.”

“This is humiliating,” he mutters, but he doesn’t resist as you sit beside him, carefully applying the ointment Jon suggested.

“Hold still,” you say gently, your touch careful.

He winces but doesn’t complain further, watching you with a mix of gratitude and lingering embarrassment. After a few minutes, the redness looks slightly less angry, though the swelling is still noticeable.

Once you’re done, you sit back with a sigh, your hands on your knees. “Well, that was a bonding experience.”

Lando lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, not exactly what I had planned.”

You glance at him, your lips twitching upward despite everything. “So … was it worth it?”

He grins, some of his usual confidence returning. “Next year, I’ll make sure to have an epipen ready.”

You laugh, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Next year, maybe let’s stick to normal traditions. Like cookies. Or matching pajamas.”

“We’ll see,” he says, smirking as he leans back against the pillows. “I’ve still got a whole year to think of something even better.”

“God help us all,” you mutter, but there’s affection in your voice.

And despite the chaos, as you settle back into bed beside him, you can’t help but think it’s still a Christmas to remember.

[burnforyou]

ALL MINE - LUIGI MAGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! your ex boyfriend Luigi buys you a drink and the rest is history!! cheating (reader, not luigi), smut!!!, both receive head, face riding (emphasis on the nose) use of the L word, creampie, kinda breeding but not really.

"can i buy you a drink?” a familiar voice asks from behind you.

you turn on the bar stool and you’re met with the face of your ex boyfriend smirking down at you. you instinctively smile at the sight of his face.

“buy away.” he calls the bartender over and orders you your favorite drink. he still remembers.

“what brings you here tonight?” he asks, leaning on the bar. he looks almost ravishing in the deep red lighting.

“just wanted a break from it all,” you sigh, studying the bottles behind the bar.

“what’s bothering you?” he peers down at you but you don't look at him. "hm?"

“just my stupid fucking boyfriend. and school.”

“you’re still with that loser?” the bartender slides your drink in front of you and you immediately take a couple big gulps. you need to be buzzed to be around him without wanting to cry.

“unfortunately.”

“you should leave him.” he whispers in your ear, his breath making your nerves tingle. "does he know you're here tonight?"

"nope," you shrug, still looking down at your drink. luigi swings his arm around your shoulders like he's done a thousand times before, pulling you into his warmth. instantly you forget about your boyfriend and all you can think about is how close you are. how if you turned your head just a few inches, your lips would brush.

"do you know how badly I've missed you?" he says deeply. his eyes burn into your skin and you turn your head to look at him.

"can we go somewhere more private to talk?" you propose. his stomach turns at the thought of being alone with you.

"yeah, good idea. I'll order us an Uber, if that's alright." you nod and turn back to your friend, telling her you're leaving with him.

"you ready?" he asks, holding out his hand for you.

"mmhmm," you nod, putting your hand in his. he helps you off the bar stool and you get an overwhelming sense of Deja Vu. it all feels so familiar, so right, you didn't even know you missed it. he leads you through the crowd, towering over most of the people there.

he led you out into the cold night and you shivered as the sudden wind hit your uncovered skin.

"you don't have a jacket, do you?" he looked at you, his eyes full of concern. you shook your head, your teeth beginning to chatter. you rubbed your arms with your hands, trying to generate any form of heat.

"oh, cm'here," he says, pulling you into him. he wraps his arm around your neck and the other around your waist, sharing his body heat with you. you try to wrap your arms around him, but can't completely just because of how large he truly is. you rest your head on his chest, close your eyes, and breathe.

unfortunately, his very public display of affection, his smell, his size, his height, his kindness... all of it is turning you on. all you wanna do is go home and jump his bones. and you know he's feeling the same way, you can feel his bulge pressing against your stomach. he knows its wrong but he's loving the slight friction he's getting from holding you.

before you know it Luigi has you pressed up against your front door with his thigh in between your legs. your lips move sloppily together in a kiss you've both been craving.

“where’s your little boyfriend at now, hm?” he breaks the kiss to ask, smirking, knowing that he has you all to himself. you push him off you and scoff.

"never bring him up again." you kick your shoes off and walk into your house, feeling his eyes burning into your figure, trying to memorize the shape of your body. he mindlessly follows you like a lost puppy. you suddenly stop on the stairs and whip around to face him.

"we seriously need to talk."

"I'm here to talk." he says, shrugging. you finally lead him to your bedroom and sit on the edge of your bed together. he looks around, noticing all that's different and all that's changed.

"I'm really glad I ran into you tonight," he confesses.

"yeah, me too." he leans in and pecks your lips.

"seriously, I've missed you more than anything. I want to try again, y/n, I want to try us again. I want this to work. I want you." his lips quiver with his confession. "and, when I saw you with him, it broke my heart to watch you be with someone that wasn't me, knowing that I love you more than you'll ever know, more than he ever could.

"I've always wanted you. you're all I've wanted. being with you was all I wanted. and, it didn't work last time, for reasons we both couldn't control. but now, you're here and I have faith we can make it work this time," you say, your hands shaking in his.

"yes, I want this, I want you, so much. you're all I want." he says, practically gasping for air. his arms wrap around you and bring you onto him for a deep kiss. slowly you both peel off your tops, leaving your bare chests touching. but it doesn't feel sexual, it feels intimate. tears well up in your eyes at the overwhelming sensation of finally being with luigi again. after all this time.

you slide off his lap and get comfortable on your knees below him. he smiles down at you, caressing your face.

you quickly tear his jeans off and sigh in content at the sight of his bulge through his boxers. you kiss the girth before slipping his boxers off too. you admire him completely naked in front of you, his hard cock pulsing, his abs flexing every time his chest rises and falls, his muscular arms holding him up, his pretty face.

he reaches down and grasps onto his own cock, desperately stroking himself slowly in front of you. his hand wraps around the girth so perfectly, you note. you find pleasure in watching him pleasure himself, wishing you were touching him.

“how often do you think of me when you jack off?” you ask, not tearing your eyes away from his cock. he doesn’t answer so you swat his arm away from his throbbing dick.

“please,” he whines at the loss of friction.

“answer my question.”

“every time,” satisfied with his answer, you take his cock in your mouth as deep as you can, “fuck!” he sucks in a breath and grips on the edge of your bed.

he taps your head and you take your lips of his cock reluctantly.

“hey, hey, i need you,” he practically whimpers. he grasps under your arms and effortlessly lifts you off your knees so your standing in front of him, in between his legs.

he brings you into him and kisses your lower stomach. you gently push him back on the bed by his shoulders and he flashes you a perfect smile. you slowly crawl up on him and sit right on his face with no shame. he immediately sticks his tongue in you like the munch he is and he has you gripping his shoulders immediately.

“you taste so good,” he groans on your hole, the vibrations have you moaning his name. he sloppily kisses your pussy and his perfect teeth slightly rubbing on you has you grinding on him. he gropes your ass and forces you to grind on him harder, leaving his whole face wet with your juices.

he continues eating you relentlessly as your legs begin to shake around his head.

“i haven’t cum in so long luigi.”

“he doesn’t make you cum?” he says angrily into your pussy, sucking on you harder than before.

“no,” you moan out, shaking your head.

“you’re so close, i can feel it,” he moans, nudging your clit with his nose.

you suddenly become aware of his perfect nose and start grinding solely on his nose. you feel his nose, wet with your juices, nudging at your hole.

“cum, baby,” he whimpers into you and pinches your clit between his fingers. “cum on my mouth.”

the knot in your stomach finally comes undone all over his face. you gasp and you tilt your head back, struggling to breathe. he licks it all up below you, never stopping. your legs shake around his head.

before you know it, he’s flipping you onto your back, flat against your pillows, and teasing your sensitive hole with his fingers. you reach up and pull his forehead down onto yours, never breaking eye contact as he fucks you with his long fingers. moans fall out of your throat against your will.

“you’re so wet, you like how i take care of you, hm?” he asks, stretching you out. “gotta get your pretty pussy ready f’me, right baby?”

all you can do is nod incoherently.

“you know that we shouldn’t be doing this,” he curls his fingers in you. “but you love it don’t you? dirty, dirty girl.” he laughs, shaking his head.

“please,” you whimper.

“you have to wait until i think you’re ready to take me baby. you know i’ve never been with anyone else? it’s always been you. always. nobody else even compares.” he talks sweetly to you while his fingers are rammed inside of you, stretching you in unimaginable ways.

“you think you’re ready now? you think you’re ready for my cock?” he asks, his forehead pressing harder against yours.

“yes, please,” you whimper when he slips his fingers out of you. he brings his soaked fingers up to his mouth and licks all your juices off of him, tasting every last drop.

“sweet like honey,” he moans.

he comes back down to kiss you and you can taste yourself on his lips.

"please, please prove it to me, lu. prove it to me that there's no one else.”

"there's never been anyone else. there will never be anyone else. it's always been you, y/n."

he reaches down and aligns his tip with your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours. his arms hold him up beside you, caging you in.

“is this okay?” he whispers.

“yes, please luigi,” you moan, digging your nails into his muscular back.

he slips the tip in and you both gasp. he thrusts the rest of the way in and your pussy welcomes him like a long lost lover. he waits momentarily for your pussy to adjust to him, before pulling out. he then bottoms out completely, hitting your cervix on the first thrust. he feels himself filling you up completely and collapses on you.

“oh, i love you,” he moans into your neck, his slight scruff scratching your skin.

you moan in surprise when he thrusts into you again, setting a fast but passionate pace. him non-stop thrusting into you fills the room with the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against his.

you don’t even get a chance to reply to his confession because he’s fucking you so good you can’t do anything but reach for him and moan. your foreheads press together, mixing your sweat with one another. his eyes stare deep into yours, never looking away from your face.

he catches your moans with a sweet and sloppy kiss, mixing his moans with yours.

he presses his hand on your lower stomach, feeling himself deep inside of you. his eyes darken.

“you feel that? how deep i am inside of you?” he groans. “fuck, it’s like you were made for me baby.”

he reaches down and rubs your clit, his other hand running groping your tit. your pussy grips him tighter than he thought was humanly possible.

“you’re close, aren’t you baby?” he groans at how tight you’re gripping him, his cock pulsing inside of you.

he keeps his pace, not once slowing down or stopping. your back arches off the bed and the knot in your stomach starts to let go again.

“cum baby,” he whispers and licks up your neck.

your eyes start to flutter shut and you see red. pleasure completely overcomes you as you grip onto him and grind your hips against his, feeling his cock fill you up. you cant even produce a sound, your mouth just falls open in silence.

he wraps his arms around your waist and without taking his cock out of you, flips so you're flat on top of him and thrusts up into you. you nearly scream at the new sensation in your sensitive pussy.

"I'm gonna cum," he groans, gripping on to your ass.

"cum in me, please, lu, cum in me," you sob in his ear, your pussy burning for him.

"fuck, you want me to claim you, hm?" he groans, his mind wandering to getting you pregnant.

"please," you moan, moving your hips back onto his and meeting each and every one of his thrusts.

"that's a girl," he moans in your ear.

before he can say anything more, he's completely bottoming out and shooting his cum deep in you. you gasp at the sensation of being so full. his orgasm sends you over the edge again, spilling out once again on him.

he grabs the back of your neck and forces you to kiss him sloppily. your whole body shakes on his and his soft cock finally slips out of you.

“i love you,” you finally return his confession. he flashes his bright smile, which makes you smile in return. he pushes you back down on his lips again and speaks through kisses.

“i love you too.”

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

yall... should I write something in this same universe where he fucks you like near your bf/in your house and he makes you be quiet? omg maybe he sneaks in through the window? omg. guys. im not okay.

!TAGS!

@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood @webanglikethat @croucify

[wonderjanga]

I May be a Kid but I’m not a Kid Kid.

When Billy’s secret identity was revealed, he started getting treated like a little kid. It really annoys him whenever these guys try to baby him.

Supes: “Billy, uhm… we were wondering if you would like to be moved to the Teen Titans.”

Marvel: “What…?” *sounds absolutely horrified at the thought of that* “Why?”

Supes: “You’d around kids your age.”

Marvel: *stares and blinks rapidly* “Are you saying you’re gonna demote me to the Teen Titans of all things? No offense.”

Supes: “Billy, it’s not a demotion.”

Marvel: “But it is. I’ve been on this team for what? Four years- almost five. You guys are acting like my age automatically means I can’t be a good hero anymore.”

Supes: “We’re not saying that. We just think it’d be good if you were on a team of heroes around your age.”

Marvel: “But you are. You’re literally all but saying it. I like those kids but not enough to want to be on a team with them.” *doesn’t know if he’d like listening to Robin’s condescension in more than small doses* “I prefer you guys. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

Supes: “Of course!” *happy Billy is still somewhat comfortable around them*

Marvel: “Good.” *smiles* “Besides, I do hang out with kids around my age. Mary and I are the same age while Junior’s a year older than us.”

Supes: “He’s the oldest?”

This conversation got them to back off about kicking him off the team. That didn’t stop them from poking their stupid adult noses into other parts of Billy’s heroics though.

Marvel: *helping someone at like 2am because he patrols as much as he can*

Supes: “Captain! Whatcha doing up this late, champ?”

Marvel: *makes a face that being called champ, but doesn’t say anything about it* “Uh… patrolling? *finishes helping the person*

Supes: “Patrolling? It’s a little late- er early for that. Isn’t it?”

Marvel: “I guess…? I still have a couple more hours.”

Supes: “Shouldn’t you be turning in earlier?”

Marvel: “No…?”

Supes: “Aren’t you tired though? Kids need plenty of sleep.”

Marvel: *a little irked at being called a kid but brushes it off* “Stamina of Atlas, remember?”

Supes: “Oh.” *silence* “Well, maybe you could still turn in earlier?”

Marvel: *looks around for any hidden cameras* “No.”

Supes: “Oh okay…” *doesn’t really want to seem controlling so he just sulks while flying back to Metropolis*

Don’t worry, Superman trying to give him a curfew isn’t the only thing a nosy adult tried to do.

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir? Are the new long term mission signs up sheets out yet?”

Batman: “Ah, yes.” *hands him the sign up tablet* “There are three new ones.”

Marvel: “Great! Any potential overlaps?”

Batman: “Only these two.” *points to two missions*

Marvel: “How long would these two last?” *points to one of the overlapping missions and the one that doesn’t overlap*

Batman: “Together would be about a month and a half or longer.”

Marvel: “Cool.” *is about to sign up for them*

Batman: *remembers school exists* “And school?”

Marvel: *pauses so he can look at Bruce confused* “What about it?”

Batman: “If you sign up for these, you’ll miss at least a month or two. You’d be stuck catching up.”

Marvel: *laughs* “You say that if I actually go to school.”

Batman: “You don’t?”

Marvel: “No.”

Batman: “I see.” *takes the tablet away before Billy can sign* “Well, you’ll go now then.”

Marvel: *thinks he’s joking* “What?”

Batman: “I’ll enroll you in a school in Fawcett.”

Marvel: *stares for a solid minute* “Mr. Batman Sir, you’re not sending me to school.”

Batman: “Yes, I am. William-”

Marvel: “Don’t call me that.”

Batman: *sighs* “Billy, education is important. You shouldn’t put it off for heroics. Even Robin goes to school.”

Marvel: “Okay? I’m not a Robin though. And that only works because you guys patrol at night. If I go to school I’ll miss my day-patrol.”

Batman: “I’m sure there are plenty of other heroes in Fawcett who patrol during the day. Why not leave it to one of them?”

Marvel: “Because I don’t want to. I like saving people. The more heroes who are out in Fawcett, the less likely somebody might get glossed over and hurt because a hero wasn’t there in time to save them. I don’t wanna be the person that failed them just because I was busy with school or because I went to bed early… I say that last part because no matter what Supes thinks, he’s not subtle about wanting me to have a darn curfew.”

Batman: *stares in silence because he now feels a little bad and also empathizes with that “what if I’m not there mentality*

Marvel: *thinks that silence is Bruce still not understanding him* “Look, if you still don’t get what I’m trying to say, imagine if someone came into Gotham and tried pushing you out of the superhero business just because they thought you unfit to be hero. That’s how I feel in this situation. I don’t tell you guys how to your jobs, so why are you trying to tell me?” *reaches over to grab the tablet a sign up for the two missions he wanted to take*

Yeah… Batman started treating him normally after that. Supes also did because his superhearing caught the convo.

Then, there’s his relationship with Flash and GL. They’d taken to treating him like a little kid or nephew even though Billy doesn’t want that.

Marvel: “Could you guys uh- stop treating me like a kid?” *sounds disappointed them*

Flash: *somehow still feels dread at the disappointment even though, NO, this guy is younger than him, why does Barry still feel like he disappointed his dad?* “You are a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, I know, but you didn’t used to do this before.”

GL: *also dislikes that he’s bothered by the Dad Disappointment™️ radiating off of Marvel* “That was before we knew you were a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, well I don’t care. I don’t need you to act like this. I don’t want you to act like this. I want friends, not chaperones or parental figures or anything stupid like that. I don’t like that you’re treating me differently now.” *sounds bitter* “You guys seem to forget that I’ve been doing this since before most of you were even, excuse my language, sperm cells. And sure, there was suspendium, but I fought Nazis, commies, and my own villains on top of that, all without being treated like a defenseless little kid and I ended up just fine. So I don’t need any of you acting like I’m a stupid little baby.”

That shut them up. It didn’t make any of the relationships between Billy and them go back to normal though. Not completely anyways. At least it was somewhat better though.

By the way, Billy, throughout all of this, just sounds bitter about being treated like this. He misses his friends guys :(.

[jburrgf]

About You I — The Love Trope Series.

“Do you think I have forgotten about you?”

◦pairing: ¡lsu! joe burrow x ¡ex situashionship! reader

◦summary: second change trope, college relationships, slow burn love, right person wrong time.

◦description: you and joe had a thing months before, but the things ended in a bad way. now, you see yourself stuck in something that requires you to be close to him every single day.

◦playlist: About You - The 1975, Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Golding, Like Real People Do - Hoozier, I Bet You Think About Me - Taylor Swift, Called You Again - Lizzy McAlpine, Tolerate It, ImGonnaGetYouBack, Clean - Taylor Swift

PART ONE: CLEAN.

There are certain moments in life that seem impossible to forget. The second I walked onto LSU’s campus, I knew my life was about to change. But not just because of the classes, the social scene, or the crazy football culture.

When I started in LSU, it was supposed to be a clean slate. A chance to focus on my career path and prove to myself that I could thrive in a bigger pond, surrounded by people just as driven as me. Advertising and Public Relations wasn’t just a degree—it was a strategy. A way to blend my creative instincts with a business-minded edge.

What I didn’t expect was LSU’s football program to be the centerpiece of everything.

LSU football wasn’t just a sport. It was culture, identity, and religion rolled into one. By my second semester, I was interning with the athletic department, brainstorming marketing campaigns and filming promos for the team. I was good at what I did—so good that I convinced myself it didn’t bother me when my work bled into my personal life.

Everything started to go wrong when I met him. Tall, blond, American aesthetic, and so, but so kind. That was Joe Burrow, the youngest transferred from Ohio State to the south. New just like me.

Joe was Joe —calm, collected, and infuriatingly charming. He wasn’t flashy like some of the other players, but the air shifted when he walked into a room. Everyone noticed him. And the first time we crossed paths, I did too.

We met my junior year at a party, back when he was just Joe—a talented quarterback with a quiet intensity and a way of looking at you like he could see straight through every mask you’d ever worn. I hadn’t planned on noticing him, but it was impossible not to.

And since then, I'm haunted by his face, his smile, his smell, his body. Every little thing that made him Joe, it was inside my head like a bad song that you can’t stop singing. I didn’t want that, not in the beginning.

And now, I'm running from him like the plague. Every place he might be, I'm not going. Every little encounter or party, or dinner, or what else, I wasn’t going.

It was a party I didn’t want to go to. Maddie had been bothering me for weeks to go to this party, and honestly, I didn't feel like going. Simply no desire.

"I'm serious, Y/N. You work too hard," Maddie, my best friend at LSU, said to me. We had just left one of our classes together, and were walking around the campus, heading towards Maddie's car. "You're missing the entire college experience."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m here to build my career, not get drunk at frat houses.”

“Even Beyoncé has to relax,” she shot back. “I’m picking you up at eight, tomorro, no excuses. But now, we’re going to Malone’s.”

[…]

I didn’t want to be here.

Malone’s was Maddie’s favorite spot, a college-town bar where everyone gathered on weekends to drink, laugh, and pretend their responsibilities didn’t exist. It was the kind of place where the sticky floors were part of the charm, and you couldn’t walk two feet without bumping into someone you knew. Normally, I’d avoid it like the plague—especially on a night like tonight, when Maddie’s sole mission was to convince me to go to that stupid party tomorrow.

“You’re being dramatic,” Maddie said as I slid into the booth across from her, the sound of the bar’s chatter and faint music drowning out half her words. “It’s just one party. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I rolled my eyes, pulling my coat tighter around me despite the warmth of the bar. “You say that like you don’t know me. I don’t do frat parties, Maddie. I don’t want to spend my Saturday night elbow-to-elbow with drunk people I barely know.”

“That’s the fun of it,” she countered, her grin far too smug for my liking.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, reaching for the drink she’d already ordered for me.

“I’m persistent,” she corrected. “And don’t think I didn't notice that you didn’t actually say no.”

I groaned, leaning back in the booth. Maddie had been trying to drag me to this party for days, claiming it was some can’t-miss event that would somehow make my life infinitely better. I wasn’t convinced, but I’d stopped arguing because, frankly, I didn’t have the energy.

I was checking on the bar from above my shoulders when It happened.

Joe Burrow.

The last person I ever expected to see here, especially tonight.

My chest tightened the moment I spotted him standing by the dartboard, his tall frame impossible to miss, his blond hair was slightly disheveled, and the faint scruff on his jaw made him look older than he had when we’d last spoken. Joe was dressed casually, jeans and a hoodie, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world, and was laughing at something one of his friends said, the sound cutting through the low hum of the bar like a knife.It wasn’t just the way he carried himself or the fact that he was Joe Burrow—LSU’s star quarterback—but the way my body reacted, as if it had its own memory of him.

I hadn’t seen him in months—not since we’d ended things without really ending them. And now, seeing him here, so casually present in my space, felt like a slap to the face. Work Out from J Cole was playing, and everything felt like a movie scene.

It wasn’t like we had history. At least not in the way most people assumed. We barely knew each other. But there had been that one night at a party a while back, and another one after a game, and another one at our friends house, and another one… and the tension between us had never fully died down. I could still remember the way his eyes had felt on me, like he was measuring me in some silent way I didn’t know how to interpret.

“Y/N.” Maddie’s voice snapped me out of my daze. She followed my line of sight and groaned. “Oh no.”

I shook my head, panic setting in. “I can’t do this.”

“You don’t even know if he saw you.”

“I’m not sticking around to find out,” I said, already sliding out of the booth.

“Y/N—”

But I was gone, weaving through the crowd toward the back hallway where the bathrooms were. I needed to breathe, to get away from the overwhelming weight of his presence.

The bathroom at Malone’s was about as glamorous as you’d expect—a narrow space with flickering fluorescent lights and graffiti scrawled across the stalls. I locked myself in one of the stalls, leaning back against the door as I tried to steady my breathing.

Of all the places to run into Joe, it had to be here.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about him. I had—more than I cared to admit. But thinking about him was one thing. Seeing him, knowing he was just a few feet away, was something else entirely.

I couldn’t face him. Not now, not here.

The bathroom was quiet, the kind of eerie stillness that felt out of place in the chaos of Malone’s. I leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection in the smudged mirror.

“Get it together,” I whispered to myself, taking a deep breath.

I didn’t even know why I was reacting like this. It wasn’t like we were still together. We weren’t anything anymore. And yet, the sight of him had thrown me completely off balance, dredging up feelings I thought I’d buried a long time ago.

But I couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, either.

I opened the bathroom door and nearly walked straight into him.

Joe was leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze fixed squarely on me.

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and steady, a hint of amusement curling at the edges.

Nope.

Without a second thought, I ducked back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

I paced the small space, my mind racing. He’d seen me, which meant he was waiting for me. I couldn’t hide in here forever, but the thought of facing him felt impossible.

Eventually, I forced myself to take a deep breath and opened the door again.

Joe was gone.

Relief flooded through me as I stepped out into the hallway, my eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of him. But instead of Joe, my attention was drawn to a small slip of paper pinned to the corkboard on the wall next to the bathroom.

It wasn’t there before.

Curious, I stepped closer and pulled it free. The handwriting was unmistakable—slanted and bold, with a certain sharpness to the letters that felt uniquely him.

“Go to the party tomorrow. Please.”

I stared at the note, my heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.

My fingers tightened around the paper as Maddie appeared at the end of the hallway, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“What’s that?” she asked, gesturing to the note.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, shoving it into my pocket.

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Ready to head back? I don’t think Joe’s here anymore.”

I nodded, though my mind was miles away.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I would go. Maybe I wouldn’t.

But one thing was for sure: Joe Burrow had just made sure I wouldn’t forget this night.

——————————————

part 2: About You II (The Love Trope Series) — Friend.

hey guys! this is the beginning of my Love Tropes Series. The first part, About You, it’s going to be launched in four parts! stay tuned :)

[kawoala]

hi meeya :3 i came w a request ‼️ can i request a written fic for atsumu where he teaches reader how to play vb? i think it’d be really cute!! i also LOVE LOVE LOVE you writing!!!!! thanks in advance <3

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 two favorite things word count ; (687) content warning ; (request, pure fluff, use of babe, set in high school, reader call him atsu one time)

“This is stupid.”

Behind you, Atsumu laughs. You hear the click of the door, footsteps, and then the blonde slinging his arm over your shoulders. He looks down at you, smiling. “This is awesome. My two favorite things in one? What more could I ask for?” He places a quick kiss on your forehead and then removes himself from you and walks to the middle of the court.

You don’t know how he convinced his coach to lend him the keys to the gym, and you don’t want to. It probably involved begging on his knees and corny jokes and you’re not sure if you want to see your boyfriend like that.

He turns to face you, his smile faltering when he registers the look on your face. “We can leave, yanno,” he says, voice quieter than usual. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I know you don’t like sports.”

You blink a couple times before walking over to him. “Atsumu,” you say gently, taking his hands in yours. “I want you to teach me how to play volleyball. It’s your two favorite things, right? Me and volleyball?” When he nods, you smile and take the volleyball that he’s holding under his arm. “Alright. Then teach me how to set and how to spike and how to volleyball.”

He snickers and shakes his head, now fully smiling. “Yeah, okay. I’ll teach you how to volleyball.” He takes the ball back and bounces it on the ground a couple times. “I’ll teach you how to hit the ball right. Bumping or receiving— people call it both.” He shrugs, then holds the ball in between his legs and puts his forearms against each other. You mirror him. “Okay, so, put your arms together like this, then make fists, but keep your thumbs out. Like this.”

“Like this?”

You look up to see him grinning ear-to-ear. “Just like that. You’re a natural, babe.” He takes a few steps backwards, taking the ball in his hands. “Okay, I’m gonna pass to you and make sure you hit it with your forearms and not your hands, ‘kay?”

You nod and take a deep breath. You haven’t played any type of sports since middle school. He throws the ball up in the air and you try to hit it with your forearms, but you take a step forward and it hits the insides of your elbows instead. You both watch the ball roll off your arms and onto the ground. You blink a couple times, then sigh.

“That’s alright,” he says with a shrug. He picks up the ball and looks at you. “Nobody gets it on their first try. Well, I did, but that’s because I’m good at everything.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but can’t stop the smile that creeps its way onto your face. “You’re so cocky.”

He shrugs. “I’m gonna throw the ball again, okay?”

You nod and, this time, when he throws the ball at you, it hits your forearms and you pass it directly back to him. You gasp and jump— literally jumping for joy. “I did it!” You shout, eyes wide. “Atsu, I did it!”

His face practically lights up as he catches the ball. He doesn’t hesitate before dropping it, jogging over to you, and picking you up to spin you around. You squeal with joy as the gym spins around. He sets you down carefully and just stops to stare at you.

“You’re so pretty when you get happy like that,” he murmurs, eyes darting around your face.

You can feel your face heat up and you push his chest lightly. “Shut up.” You look down and he laughs, kissing the top of your head. You step away and put your arms together. “Do another one.”

And the smile that comes to his face is just enough to make you fall in love with him all over again. You see your Atsumu, of course, but you see his mother’s Atsumu, too. The buck-toothed, ornery little kid who stayed up past his bedtime, giggling and running around the house. 

[rocknrollsalad]

rating: gen cw: drinking/getting drunk, high society expectations, cranky steve and robin, period typical homophobia tags: no upside down au, rich kid steve au, steddie and Buckingham double date, chirstmas parties, Eddie learns whats in eggnog word count: 2412

-

written for the steddiemas prompt "eggnog" but it's a good week late, another victim of the plague I caught lol

“You better go collect your man,” Robin whispered, having appeared out of nowhere.

Steve hissed, “Stop calling him that.”

His eyes darted around the room, both to make sure he wasn’t heard. Robin was right, he hadn’t seen his boyfriend (who was definitely not his date tonight) in a while. Probably not a good sign.

“Well he is,” she scoffed.

“You are supposed to be my date, that’s the cover story. For you and for me. Doesn’t really work if you go around talking about how I really brought Eddie.”

It shut Robin up for a second, just long enough for Steve to enjoy the victory, before she said, “Tell your parents to stop being so uptight.”

Except the counter to that was the same as it always was. “And yours are so cool about it.”

Probably not the round and round Robin wanted when she walked up here on some high horse. One she had no business climbing on. She knew Steve was always a little extra stressed at these stupid dinner parties and that tonight was going to be worse. Instead of being supportive, it was almost like she was trying to sabotage things.

They could talk about it later. Right now, Steve apparently had to go find Eddie because there was no way Robin was saying that for fun. He was doing something. Probably making a run for it…which was smart. Steve could, at least, show him the best escape routes and let him know he didn’t take it personally.

Especially because it was a lot harder for Steve to make that run for it anymore. Ever since they’d brought him in from the kiddie room (which was actually the garage), his moves were tracked. Sure he wasn’t sharing one sad, toppingless pizza with a bunch of kids he didn’t know anymore but at what cost? At least the garage had video games…and no one talking about investments or how he should have gone to college.

Steve went off to find out what was going on with Eddie. Robin, in her endless helpfulness, decided to stay put and give no direction. It left Steve to go from room to room, asking everyone he could. No one had seen him. Something that was maybe a good thing? This meant he wasn’t standing on expensive furniture telling some amazing and elaborate story that would be wasted on these stuffy assholes.

Things got so desperate, Steve asked his mom if she’d seen Eddie. She always knew everything that was happening at these parties. Yet she hadn’t seen him. It seemed unlikely and a quick segue into tired reminders to not cause a scene. This one came with the bonus lecture of not ignoring his date because “no respectable woman is sidelined for a friend, dear.”

And nothing proved more that Steve’s mom didn’t see everything. Not only would he and Robin stick by each other through anything, she wasn’t even his actual date. Though, Steve did have to admit the only people in the world who believed they weren’t dating were them. Probably Chrissy and Eddie but sometimes Steve wasn’t so sure.

Moving on from his mom before he got roped into some mind-numbingly boring discussion, Steve ran into Chrissy. She was Eddie’s date who was really Robin’s date and had been folded into the group shenanigans. Which meant Steve was so ready to drag her into this quest. If he couldn’t have Robin, he could at least have help.

“We’ve lost your date,” Steve sighed, trying not to freak out yet.

“What do you mean?” she asked, instantly jumping to freaking out.

Steve linked their arms together and continued walking on, trying to think of where else he’d hide out. “Robin came up to me and told me to go collect my man. I thought he was doing something embarrassing but, like, I can’t find him. Do you think he’d leave?”

“No,” she cooed. “He’s been so worried about this night, there’s no way he’d leave you. He wouldn’t.”

Something that would have been so much more flattering if Steve had any fucking clue where the guy was.

“The garage!” Steve said, realizing the one place he hadn’t looked.

Chrissy didn’t say anything, just picked up her pace and they sped off toward the kiddie party. Of course. it was in the detached garage. Heaven forbid the kids breathed in the others, dad’s cars would lower in value at the mere thought.

So they barged through the door and onto the familiar path, still arm and arm, laser-focused on the only place it made sense for Eddie to be.

Before the door closed behind them, the soft exclamation of “Steve” was sung out and Chrissy and Steve both leaped into the grass, barely holding back screams as the voice startled them.

Steve easily moved Chrissy behind him as they both looked for the source of the voice, rather than some creepy old guy or party crasher, it was the exact person they were looking for. Both of them let out a matching, but quiet, exclamation for finding Eddie.

He was sat on a stone bench, leaning against the house, and smoking. Not only was he well hidden by shrubbery but Steve had expected to find him indoors. He needed that last glimmer of hope that Eddie was still at the party. And he hadn’t exactly left so that was…something?

“Hey man,” Eddie drawled out.

Steve’s eyes narrowed but he turned to make sure Chrissy was stable and had recovered from the little fright neither of them was going to speak about.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Chrissy said.

Resigning to her point, Steve nodded and went for the “what she said” shrug.

“I’ve been ri-ight here, baby.”

“He’s drunk,” Chrissy and Steve whispered to each other.

“Oh no!” Eddie cried out, dropping his head back. “Who told you?”

“I think you did, champ,” Chrissy laughed.

This probably wasn’t great. Steve went into panic mode immediately, ideas on what to do next sped through his mind followed by the consequences of each. A drunk Eddie was less likely to keep up the ruse, one he and Robin had organized so carefully.

It wasn’t time to come out, yet. Steve knew that time was rapidly approaching. Each and every day he had to lie about who he was with or what he was doing was another stab in the chest but at The Harrington Christmas Soiree? That was not the time. If they could just get into the new year, Steve would come clean, and probably get disowned, but at least it wouldn’t go down for “trying to steal the spotlight”.

Chrissy rubbed her hand between Steve’s shoulder blades. He had to be thinking awfully loudly right now. Where was Robin when he really needed her?

“I didn’t mean to,” Eddie pouted.

Steve watched Eddie pat around the bench and his own clothes, looking for his lighter. It was such a distinct move but it brought in this creeping feeling of normalcy with it. They’d done this before. Both drunk and sober.

As he had many times before, Steve reached into his pocket and got his lighter. Once he was close enough, he shielded the flame so Eddie could re-light his cigarette. Which he did with ease. The smoke billowed from Eddie and cleared both of their heads.

“How’s that work, though?” Steve asked. He then turned to Chrissy and leaned in a bit. “Could you go find Robin, remind her not to gloat, and maybe get a glass of water? In that order of importance.”

“She’s not going to gloat,” Chrissy said but it’s already an apology. They both know the truth. It’s part of Robin’s charm but it’s always extra annoying in moments like these.

“That’s the spirit, let's hope for Christmas miracles.”

They share a giggle that they’ve earned by being as close to Robin as they are and Chrissy disappeared back inside. Steve sat down next to Eddie and moved his hand so Steve could take a quick drag off the cigarette. He’s going to need it…or some of whatever Eddie had.

“Alright, what’s the story then?”

“Have you ever had eggnog,” Eddie asked. A question that feels wildly off topic but, again, he’s a little drunk so a coherent sentence is a great start.

“Yeah, it’s disgusting.”

“No-ooooooooo. No. Look, listen, I mean. It’s not. You’re wrong. Wayne makes it all the time,” Eddie leaned in closer, a hand cupped over his mouth as he whispered. “Every year.”

“Yeah, my parents do too. It’s nasty. The one in the punch bowl is the one you want.”

“Au contraire, that one has alcohol in it and I’m supposed to behave,” Eddie has his finger raised, wagging in the air like a cartoon teaching valuable life lessons.

“And so’s the eggnog.”

“Mmmmmm, no. I think I’d know that.”

“I…actually, yeah. I’d have thought you knew that too. Wait, so how– you know you’re drunk now, right?”

“Yeah but, ya know, we’re not telling Steve. He’s going to make me sleep on the couch for a whole week.”

“Sure,” Steve pressed his lips together and nodded. This was ridiculous and he kind of wished Eddie was just giving some rambunctious nerd speech. “But how’d you get drunk then?”

“Sabotage, obviously. The Harrington’s don’t want the heir to their throne with a commoner like me.”

“So they spiked your drink?”

“Totally.”

“Somehow complimentary you think they’d waste liquor on that,” Steve shrugged and he snatched Eddie’s pack of cigarettes to light one for himself.

“So it was Robin!”

“More believable actually. No, it was the eggnog.”

“There’s not alcohol in eggnog, Wayne wouldn’t give me it if there was.”

“Because you have to put it in, which my parents do.”

In a different situation, this would be funny. Steve might even find a way to laugh about it later but the guilt simmering in his chest for not teaching Eddie about which drinks had liquor is too strong to enjoy the laughable way his boyfriend accidentally got drunk.

All the solutions Steve had run through didn’t fit the situation anymore. They were likely both going to have to leave. Or worse, Eddie and Chrissy were and that’d ruin so many people’s nights.

Before he could think of a way to save everyone’s good time, Chrissy returned. Robin right behind her. Steve quickly stamped out the cigarette like Robin wouldn’t see and stood to talk to them.

He filled them in on the whole eggnog situation. It earned the appropriate level of laughter but once it subsided, they started trying to actually solve the problem. Eddie sat content on the bench, watching them adoringly as they worked out his fate. Steve had to give it to him, he was a very happy drunk.

“Hey, psst, hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” Eddie said as they were finalizing some plans to get him upstairs to Steve’s room and full of coffee.

“Oh my god,” Robin said, trying to shut him up.

Steve walked over, leaning into his space so he wasn’t towering over him. “Yeah, man. What’s up?”

“I just need you to know-”

“Oh boy.”

“I came in with a smoking hot blonde but she’s not really my date.”

With all the patience in his body, Steve let out a sigh that was every bitchy comeback he had rolled into one sound, and said “Yup.”

“You’re way better.”

“You didn’t even commit to that. At least hit on me. Ugh. Can you just be cool for like two more minutes?”

“Cool? Yeah? Yeah! I can be cool for so many minutes. Two, ten, six, eighty. I’m good at it.”

“You’re not, so we better do something quick.”

“We should fool around is what we should do. This place has to have so many rooms. I didn’t even peek in half of them.”

Steve turned around and looked at the girls, “I think we gotta leave.”

“You can’t leave your own family Christmas party,” Robin said.

“I’ve done it so many times. Chrissy and Eddie have to go because Eddie’s sick. You and me can work something else out.”

Eddie stood up and leaned on Steve. “You should have some of that eggnog. I guess they make it with alcohol here.”

“Will you stop acting like we don’t know each other!” Steve scrubbed his hand over his face.

Robin sucked her teeth, “Might be for the best, he won’t blow anyone’s cover that way.”

“But he’s being so obnoxious about it,” Steve groaned.

“Good thing he’s the only one being obnoxious,” Robin said, crossing her arms over her chest.

A pose Steve mirrored, “What do you suggest then?”

“Let him sleep it off. He’s right, there’s plenty of rooms here and all we have to do is tell the truth for once. He didn’t know there was alcohol in the eggnog.”

“I didn’t know. I gotta tell Wayne though, it’s way better this way.”

“Who doesn’t know,” Steve groaned. Not frustrated at Eddie for not knowing, not really, but stressed out by the situation and that had to go somewhere.

“What if,” Chrissy said with her shoulders pulled up to her ears. The meek injection spoke to her nervousness but she got everyone’s attention. “We joined Eddie?”

Eddie, who was draped on Steve’s back with an arm over his shoulder and idly rubbing Steve’s chest, hummed in approval. The comfort of Eddie’s weight had Steve forgetting everything they were supposed to be hiding as he melted into the comfort and contact.

Still, he and Robin voiced matching sounds of confusion.

“It’s not embarrassing if the ‘kids’ got drunk. It’s our first time here, they almost expect us to overdo it so…let’s overdo it. Eddie won’t be the one who didn’t know this or that, we’ll all just be young adults doing what’s expected of us.”

Steve pondered the plan. “We couldn’t go wild.”

“It’s not a frat house,” Robin said for Chrissy.

Eddie gave a soft “Yeah” that Steve knew was meant to mock Robin but came out like agreement.

“It could work.”

“It could be fun!” Chrissy cooed, jumping up and down a few times. Maybe they all needed to take the edge off here.

The hand that was on Steve’s chest now held his cheek as Eddie kissed the other one.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go have some fun,” Steve groaned, doing his best to act like he hated this.

“Finally!”

[strayheartless]

Zakkura Headcanons: HOLIDAY EDITION

Cloud is not all that festive a person. He’s not a grinch (well, no he kinda is by definition) but he doesn’t really get “ready” for Yule like everyone else. He doesn’t decorate; you couldn’t pay him to wear a holidays sweater; he stopped believing in Santa at age four; and he certainly doesn’t go out of his way to buy people gifts. Mostly because he’s never had friends to buy for, but he’s convinced himself it’s because he believes it’s stupid.

Zack. Loves. Yule. It’s his favourite holiday ever because of course it is! How can you not love Yule?! He loved “helping” his mom with baking and getting under his dad fee- I mean helping his dad decorate. Gift buying is the only thing he’s ever prepared for because he basically spends all year thinking about what to get people he likes.

Imagine Zack’s horror when he realises his best friend and crush isn’t bothered by the sights and smells of holiday cheer…

He immediately determines himself to making Cloud enjoy Yule. He’s a little neurotic about it actually -not that he lets Cloud know that, because Clouds suppose to be having fun FuN FUN! Angeal and Kunzel are both subjected to Zack’s ranting and frantic Christmas prep as he tries his absolute best to make sure Cloud has a good experience.

He invites Cloud around to Bake; drags him out in the cold to pick a tree; buys him festive drinks; drags him out AGAIN to Yule markets. Cloud for the most part silently puts up with it all, and even more privately enjoys the attention Zack gives him as the taller man tugs Clouds scarf up to cover his nose, holding his hands to warm them up.

Zack buys Cloud festive PJ’s for yules eve and basically wrestles him into them before making him park his butt on the couch to drink hot chocolate and cud- watch movies.

If Cloud falls asleep because he feels warm and safe then that’s a happy coincidence. If Zack takes advantage of his sleeping in order to tuck him into bed while Zack does some last minute wrapping and stocking stuffing then that is his business.

Cloud does have some traditions during the holidays. Namely on the actual day he will call his mom and ask if she got her present. He will stay on the phone for a while as he makes his lunch and assure her he’s fine. Yes he’s eating enough, no he doesn’t have plans today, no he’s not being bullied, yes he’s sure. It’s the same most years.

This year however when he calls her she is delighted to know that he’s spending the day with Zack. She chats animatedly with Zack about their family traditions and gushes over this “older boy looking after my baby”.

Zack keeps glancing giddily at Cloud who’s got a… hell, it’s a really fond look on his face. Clouds mom likes him! Clouds mom promised to send him mittens!

Zack wants to tell Cloud how he feels but He’s too busy making sure Cloud has a good day. Calling his own parents has Zack standing in the kitchen with a turkey baster having a mini panic attack while his mother over explains cooking times and stuffing. Then, like a guardian angel, Cloud takes the baster from him and preps the turkey like it’s something he always does.

Zack is struck with the domesticity of it all and desperately wants to blurt out “I’m so in love with you” but he doesn’t.

He had plans to tell him he swears. He’d boobie trapped the entire apartment with mistletoe and everything, but he’s so preoccupied with trying to make Cloud happy that he kind of puts it’s on the back burner.

Cloud however, beats him to it. It’s at the end of the night, when they are warm and full and cozy. They’d been playing chocobo racer, pushing at each other teasingly trying to put the other off, and then Zack had shoved Cloud a tiny bit harder than he ment too. Cloud -never one to go down without a hell of a fight- pulls Zack with him as he goes down.

They kind of just lay there for a second on their sides, Zack having rolled so he didn’t Crush his crush. And then Cloud gently leans in to Kiss Zack softly whispering a heartfelt “thank you” against his lips. Zack doesn’t have to ask what for, he knows he means the day, but he wants another kiss so he rolls Cloud on top of him, locks his arms around the smaller, and steals a couple more.

“Hey so will you be my boyfriend for Yule?”

“Just for Yule?”

“Or forever, Forever works for me if it works for you”

“Yeah that works for me…”

“Hey Cloud?”

“Mmhm?”

“I’m kinda stupidly in love with you.”

Cloud goes an adorable shade of red as he mumbles “me too” into Zack’s chest.

[am000risbest]

Hay! Heh, I am a fan about your post, and i was wondering if you can do a bakugou x y/n post where they are 25 and have a 6 year old son named kanji that looks and acts like bakugou, and they are at a grocery store and kanji sees a toy and makes a BIG tantrum embarrassing Y/n, and bakugou let's out his strict father side, aka bakugou is 1 hero, so... yeah.... rich.. THANK YOU 😭

Yeah for sure! And thank youvsosososo much,I really appreciate it. As always,have a good read and enjoy!

You,your husband and kanji,your angel of a child were doing regular grocery shopping before passing the toy section.

Kanji would then go over to grab a toy or two and bring it back to you.

“Mama look,can I have these? Pleaseeeee?”

Kanji would then proceed to give you the so called “puppy eyes” but you knew good and well they didn’t work anymore on you.

“No kanji,sorry bud,maybe next time,me and your papa are real busy and can’t spend time or money on toys”

sure you guys were rich but you or Katsuki didn’t want kanji to be a spoiled child that was entitled.

So you both kept him without knowing just exactly how much money was in your back account,and referred from spending so much on toys,as kanji had a box full of them.

“Mama please! I’ll be good I swear! I really want them! I don’t have these all might toys yet!”

“Sorry kanji it’s a no.”

“Mama! Please!”

“Kanji I said no,stop asking.”

“I want them!”

“I know you do,but it doesn’t change the fact that neither me or your dad will not be buying them.”

Kanjis eyes began to tear up and he slummed onto the ground still holding the little toys he had in his hands.

“No! I’m not leaving until I get them!”

“Kanji,stop making a scene and put them away.”

“No!”

kanji then began to sob,flinging his arms around as if there were no tomorrow.

“Kanji tetsu bakugou you get up right now.”

Kanji knew that when you said his full name he was in trouble,but he didn’t care,not when there was an all might trophy toy in his grasp.

“Noo mama! I want them!!”

Kanji was persistent with his cry’s,and Katsuki was already on his way to get his little devil child to calm down.

Katsuki was busy getting produce from a few aisles away before hearing cry’s and little distant yells from you.

“Ah shit,bet he’s acting up again.”

Kanji had almost gotten out of the “toddler crying stage” even though he just turned six,he still sometimes acted like he were 3 years old.

Katsuki put the items you had made him get before a random girl walked up to him and asked for his number.

“Hi dynamite! I was wondering if I could get your number?”

She looked eccentric,but that was quickly shut down by his rbf.

“I have a wife,and kid. I don’t know where you’ve been but if you don’t know that then I obviously don’t talk about them enough,outta my way.”

Katsuki then left the girl alone with a surprised look on her face before leaving.

Katsukis steps were steep,walking fast but not running,because if you guys were in trouble he knew you could handle the both of you and kanji.

“Mama ple-ease!” The hiccups were now apparent and in kanjis way of speech.

“Kanji,I said no.”

Kanji didn’t look at you,just staring at the all might toys he cry’s for.

“But mama!!”

“Get up and put em away”

“Papa I want them,can I have them please?!”

Kanji looked desperate and he definitely looked as if he had a tantrum over it.

By the time Katsuki had reached were you both were,people were already staring.

“No,now get up,clean your tears and put those stupid toys away.”

Kanji didn’t say anything,looking intimidated by katsukis “dad stare” and his deep,rasp voice.

Kanji then got up and walked to where he had gotten the toys from,and walked over before cleaning his tears with his long sleeved shirt.

“Atta boy,now go get us some eggs from the dairy section okay?”

“O-okay papa.”

Kanji stumbled a bit before walking over in sights view,grabbing the eggs and walking back,handing Katsuki the eggs.

“Good job,now I want you to say sorry to mommy for making a scene okay?”

“Sorry mama..”

“It’s okay baby.”

Although he had often tantrums like this,you just couldn’t handle these like Katsuki could.

Kanji then proceeded to jump into the shopping cart,this was a thing he’d do when his tantrums would get stopped,so you and Katsuki didn’t mind because he was right in front of you and in safe sight.

“Dad mode huh?”

“Just doing my job,you know that.”

“Either way,thank you. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“It’s me,I was the same way with my old ma. Always throwing tantrums.”

You and Katsuki both look at kanji,a spitting image of Katsuki.

“Two peas in a pod.”

You said as you looked into katsukis eyes with a sense of wonder and curiosity as to how you got so lucky to have a good husband.

And a great child,even if he doesn’t act like it sometimes,you were still truly grateful.

You and Katsuki continued to do your grocery shopping this time,hand in hand.

[thewitchblue]

"I told you not to touch that."

You had warned a very curious Tim repeatedly. This one wasn't anything harmful. You simply didn't want him touching your potions. It was a very annoying potion to make.

You had left it boiling on a burner while you got a snack, but Tim shut off the burner to touch your half-baked potion. You had no idea how long he's had it off the burner, but it wasn't boiling anymore.

"What does it do?"

He didn't have the guts to do anything but hold the boiling hot beaker. At least, not in front of you. He felt like he was a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"It was SUPPOSED to be a present for Jason, jackass. Now it's ruined."

You aggressively took the breaker from Tim and borderline slammed it down on your windowsill. You stormed over to your burner and turned it on again. Maybe you can salvage it. It had stopped boiling because Tim was too curious for his own good.

"Oh."

Tim looked embarrassed. You didn't bother to tell him it was liquid weed, so Jason could stop stinking up the manor when he smokes.

You were sick of getting accidentally drugged because Jason left brownies out without a "do not eat" sign. You think Jason secretly likes drugging people, but there was an unspoken agreement: shut up and leave the drugged person alone.

You were hoping this potion would get him to go to you instead of some shady drug dealer, but Tim doesn't need to know any of this. This is between you and Jason.

"Do me a favour and never touch my stuff. My next potion won't be so friendly."

You grumbled. You were the family witch. Yes, the stereotypical potions and general magic. You learned from Constantine and Zatanna how to use spells, but potions are where you shine.

You are called The Alchemist at night and are feared mainly due to how prepared you are. You had a potion for anything and everything.

The villains actively avoid you as a result of your preparation. You're seriously more prepared and paranoid than Batman in a lot of cases.

Scarecrow is the only one salty enough to go after you. He wanted you as an apprentice, but he's not getting anywhere by kidnapping you on the occasion. Come on, just give him one potion that he can replicate if he can't have you on his side!

Joker found you boring, Bane doesn't want to tango when you take away his muscles with a potion, Ra cares more about physical combat, and the list goes on. It's ridiculous, truly.

You were actually quite close to Poison Ivy, however, and she supplies you with various plants for you to use. You even send her photos to update her on how the plant is blooming with a thank you text (yes, you have her number, score!)

Being a Wayne helps with the potions as well. You can get you an endless supply of various metals, chemicals, and powders to work with alongside the plants. You often question if you are on a government list somewhere. It doesn't look good to order 15 kilograms of gunpowder and potassium nitrate.

The family doesn't know any of this, but then again, they don't know much about what you do. They rarely ask questions about your potions except nosy Tim, who refuses to leave your room until he knows more about whatever potion you are making at the time.

"I was curious!"

He tried to defend himself, which failed as you retorted,

"And you could have had your finger dissolved if you touched it! For the brains of the family, you really are stupid."

Does he have no sense of self-preservation? Why on earth would he touch a mysterious liquid? Survival of the fittest indeed.

Tim scoffed. How else is he supposed to find out more information if he knows nothing about the process? You had all your potions memorised! No recipe book, no paper trail, you even have a witch/magic users pack between Zatanna and Constantine, so they won't tell the family anything. He can't even identify all the plants you use so he could test them.

"You're lucky I make weapons for you guys. Some of this stuff takes weeks! I have 9 of you guys running around, using MY supply because you guys don't use your potions wisely. What if I needed the paralysing potion for Bane, but uh-oh, you stole it from me, so I can't do anything."

Tim had no excuse. He's, admittedly, stolen more than a handful of potions to reload his weapons, and he's not the only one. He tried to smooth over your irritation. In a nervous tone, he said,

"I'm sorry. I would be surprised if you didn't notice the missing potions, though."

Damn right, you'd notice it. What kind of alchemist would you be if you didn't notice your missing stash and resupply? Granted, you also have the power of bullshit spells that you learned from John and Zatanna, so you aren't entirely helpless, but it's annoying reaching for an imaginary potion on patrol and needing to trudge all the way home just to restock.

"I think you need to keep your hands to yourself. I might have to redo this potion now. Please tell me you didn't touch the potion itself."

You wouldn't know how to handle a high Tim Drake. You tried to keep your eyes on him while putting your potion back on the burner. Is the weed in his bloodstream, or are you safe to continue your drug cooking?

He gave an awkward smile. He may or may not have smelled the potion. It smelled like a freshly mowed lawn, and the tiny sip he took tasted like an apple. When all you got was silence, you groaned and said in disbelief,

"Oh, fuck, of course you did."

Just your luck. The drug will hit Tim any second now. You ran a stressed hand through your hair before turning to him and saying sternly,

"You are going to sleep on my bed and let the potion run its course. Do. Not. Leave. This. Room. Got it?"

Tim looked confused, but what does he know about magical potions? If you say let it work through him, he'll follow instructions. He sat on your bed and then it hit him.

"Woah, what the hell did you do to me? Were you trying to lace Jason with something?"

You frowned and physically pushed him onto the bed. You quickly swaddled him like a baby in a sea of blankets.

He can not leave this room. Bruce would murder you. You were supposed to be the good one. The only one who caused no problems (to their knowledge).

"Tim, look at me."

Tim did not, in fact, look at you. He was distracted by all the plants you have in your room. Did someone drop off more plants in the time he's last been in here?

"Did you get more plants?"

You huffed. You didn't. They have only grown since he's been snooping in your room. You tried to get his attention by snapping your fingers and calling his name,

"Tim?"

When he continued to look around with rapidly reddening eyes, you squished his face in your hand and forcefully pushed his face until it faced you.

"Tim, you are going to sleep. I'm going to play some music for you and we are going to forget all about this when you feel better."

You can make a potion to erase recent memories. Tim can't know you are making drugs in your room. Nobody can know except Jason.

You decided to turn on some calming music in hopes he would drift off, which seemed to be working as his eyes drooped, and he smiled at you like he knew something you didn't. He was lost in his thoughts, clearly.

You wondered what was going on in that big brain of his. It didn't matter. He can blaze in blissful peace while you deal with his mess.

You kept the music quiet and soft like he was at a spa. You hoped the combined warmth of the blankets with the soft music would work faster.

With a sigh, you stood up from your position at his bedside. This is not good. Tim needs to learn when to leave your stuff alone. What if you boiled his blood or poisoned him? It's best to leave the witchcraft to the witch.

You watched him like a hawk. His thoughts seemed to be slowed and sluggish. You supposed you can bottle your potion after all. Should you put a dropper on it? Normally, your potions soak through the skin and clothes, but you were extremely careful with this one.

You gave his forehead a small kiss once he fell asleep. You went to your bottles while shaking your head in disapproval. You were very happy with the results of the potion, not so much with the tester. You would hate to think about what could have happened if you didn't swaddle him. Would he be walking around high and babbling about funny potions? Probably. He was already hallucinating pleasantly by the time he passed out.

You were so lucky that Tim didn't get the potentially dangerous symptoms. You can handle a mellowed out Tim, but not if he was going through psychosis.

After successfully bottling and hiding the potion, you pulled out one of your memory potions.

You felt bad drugging him then making him forget about it, but you can't have him telling anybody, whether accidentally or purposefully.

You know you could just tell Bruce that Tim touched a memory potion on your burner, and he'd believe you, but why draw in the eyes of Batman? He would want to know about all future potion making.

You frowned as you put one drop on his forehead and watched it sink in. He won't remember any of this.

You were a bit overprepared, but you were Batman and Constantine trained. Of course you'd have some weaselly way out of accidentally drugging someone.

Oh, John would be so proud of you.

[gouraminnow]

One Piece / Straw hats with a Reader who struggles with ASI (Autistic Self Injury)

Warnings: Self harm, primarily

ASI is sometimes referred to as Non-Suicidal Self Injury, and it's typically not done deliberately the way "standard" SH is. It can be because of both under or over-stimulation, or sometimes it can just be a form of stimming that happens to be physically harmful. This isn't exclusive to autism, it's also common w/ compulsion based disorders such as OCD.

Disclaimer: I'm not a professional of any sort I'm just a guy who has it. My experience is not universal and most of this will be based on how I experience and deal with these problems.

POST THAT CATERS TO ME BEFORE ANYBODY ELSE HERE WE GO!!!

In all honesty One Piece is so chock-full of quirky and frankly weird people that I don't think an autistic person would phase most characters all that much. Not saying ableism wouldn't exist at all, but like. Franky is here. I don't think most lower-support needs autistic people would even be noticed by anyone other than some of the doctor characters and I don't think high-support needs people would be treated badly (By the more... decent characters, anyway). I mean hell I will always go to bat for autistic Luffy hcs, as well as Robin and Usopp to a degree but ANYWAY!

Before everyone is used to it, the site of you doing it (while upset especially) has everyone scrambling to grab you and stop it from continuing. There is… a good chance this upsets you even more, having your new crewmates suddenly swarming you... it takes a bit of back and forth, explaining that this is just normal for you.

Luffy is the one I thought of first... I've always been a biter. Whether it's nails or biting open the skin on my hands it's one of the forms I personally struggle with a lot. Now I may think Luffy is autistic but this does NOT mean I think he'd immediately understand/get it. Obligatory "autism is a spectrum" spiel, a lot of us butt heads if we have conflicting symptoms/struggles. Luffy is sympathetic, and worried about you, but he's also very blunt and there's a good chance he'd argue with you over it. What are you upset about? Clearly something's wrong, if you're doing this. What do you mean you don't notice? You're bleeding. Doesn't it hurt? This is bad for you. He's worried, so just cut it out already!

You tell him it's just an impulse you don't think about, like wiping your nose or tapping your foot. It doesn't really hurt until someone points it out, or if you accidentally do something really bad. His brows screw up, and he stares at you very intently. He says if you can't stop, then he WILL help you the next time it happens. You're a little put off, and have the suspicion that he doesn't really get it, but... well, he clearly means well. It's nice that he worries about you, and that even while ignorant in some aspects of his concern, he doesn't belittle or blame you for these behaviors... ultimately, you feel pretty okay about how things went.

Until the next time he sees you doing it, he launches across the ship to shove his nasty, grubby-ass hands into your mouth. "It doesn't hurt me!" he exclaims, while you try to cuss him out and avoid gagging on his stupid, rubbery fingers. "You need to bite, so bite me! This way hurts nobody, shishishi!" You shriek, the two of you toppling over onto the deck. Sanji or Nami smack him over the head to get him off of you. It wasn't what you'd call helpful, but... if he's out on deck or in the room with you, there's a little self-check you run through to make sure nothing your doing will warrant... that. So maybe it does sort of work?

Luffy has a similar approach to other forms of ASI too. Skin picking and hair pulling? Hitting yourself? Yeah he's going koala mode(animal that clings. Not the character) and wrapping himself around you, restraining your limbs. Which unfortunately has a high chance of making the urge worse, if it's compulsion based...

Now, Chopper has heard of this, and read about it, but he hasn't actually seen it in person yet. The first time he sees you doing it, it's shortly after you've joined. He goes to meet with you- every new member gets a check-up just to make sure everything's in working order! He finds you in the aquarium bar, absentmindedly gazing at the fish... but when he calls to you, you turn, and reveal the bloody mess of your hand- nails chewed far past the quick. He freaks out, which probably freaks you out, which attracts the attention of the others, and...

Yeah. That could've gone better. It takes a bit for you two to calm down. There's a chance he might think this is a more standard form of self-harm, and feel guilty because you're so unhappy you'd do this to yourself... when he learns the actual reason, he... still feels pretty guilty for not noticing or considering the possibility sooner. But he's the one who briefs everyone else on the details, possibly even you if you don't know you're autistic or why you do these things. I don't think these types of diagnoses or the terminology surrounding them are well known in the OP universe, so there's a good chance you don't have clue what your own problem is. Either way, everybody knows now.

Chopper lays down the basics. There's the passive SH you don't even notice, reflexive the way scratching an itch or brushing away hair is. Then there's the kind that you do because you're upset or overwhelmed in some way. It's not so simple as just stopping. You need other outlets when you feel the urges start up. He works with you to try and practice healthier grounding and coping strategies, and the others fall in line.

Nami isn't great about it if she sees it before Chopper tells everybody what's up... means well, but scolding you or grabbing you directly does not help the urges go away. She means well, but she's used to the other knuckleheads and their more... deliberate brand of dipshittery. Much more patient once she's been told the details, whether from you or Chopper.

If Nami catches you picking at your skin, it's pretty common for her to hand you a tangerine to peel. It's similar enough to skin, she reasons, it might be a good alternative. And then you can eat it afterward instead of chewing on yourself. It's a two-in-one solution! Both of you fail to consider how easily citrus juice gets inside a hand-wound though... after the first incident, it's a solution for picking at any other body parts. You can hang out in the map room with her for a little bit of peace and quiet, as long as you don't distract her. She might explain some of her work to you if you're interested.

She'll smack around any of the others if they upset/overwhelm you, whether it's actually enough to start up the sh. Her yelling might not help, but it is nice to feel supported... she'll get you jewelry to fidget with instead, and take you clothes shopping for things that don't set off sensory issues(AND look flattering, of course). Her and Robin will paint your nails. The dried polish is another better peeling/picking alternative to skin and hair. Nami adds the prices of the jewelry and nail polish to the debt of whoever accidentally sets you off.

Robin is a little better about it. If you hit yourself, or bang your head against another surface, she'll use her power to summon hands that cushion your blows. If she sees the scratching, hair pulling, etc. she asks you about it- the question usually enough to ground you and realize it's happening, if you aren't already.

She's good at redirecting you. Has you come relax somewhere quieter with her if you're overwhelmed. Works with Nami in regards to the clothes and nail polish, but also has good chapstick recommendations, since chapped lips are a big problem for lots of people with dermatillomania.

A relaxing person to be around in general (unless you're offput by her morbid comments) and is good to talk to. You admit you feel a bit ridiculous having these issues on a crew chock-full of such accomplished individuals. Childish, even. She chuckles, asking how you can say that living on the same boat as Luffy, of all people? You're hardly the only person here with self-destructive habits and it's far from your only defining trait. And though for differing reasons, both her and Brook commiserate with you regarding the loneliness and feelings of isolation a lot of autistic people face. The struggle of not understanding or being understood in turn...

Insists on you joining her and Nami while they relax, on occasion. Makes Sanji dote on you too, if you aren't a woman and he isn't already.

Speaking of Sanji, he's also good at redirecting you. The kitchen is his domain, but if you're in a rut and it'll help keep your hands busy without overwhelming you, he'll give you something to do. Help chop, help peel, here the eggs are done boiling so be a dear and help with the ice bath, won't you? Won't let you chop onions or chilis even if you insist you'll be fine.

And if you're a chewer/biter, he always has some sort of snack to give you. Finds you chewing your knuckles and shoves some Hors d'Oeuvres at you. Takes care to figure out which textures you like vs. can't handle as well. If you're hitting yourself, he sticks some thick oven mitts on your hands. It's not... perfect, by any means, but it's better.

Zoro hears the way you talk about some of it. The feeling of some sort of tense, uncomfortable energy that fills you, and the desperate need to get it out. Tearing at yourself, hitting yourself, banging your head against something to try and alleviate the feeling. He... thinks he sort of gets it, actually. Not in the same way but he gets antsy and weird if he doesn't get to do something active for too long. Is it something like that..? Passively mentions that weight training might help. It's worth a shot, and you're free to come join him if you'd like to try. And you think it over. Maybe the straining of your muscles would provide a similar and healthier form of relief, while also achieving something productive at the same time... so you make your way up to the crow's nest one day, and he's happy to see you there, truly!

But... Zoro has come a long way since he first joined. He knows he's stronger than you, but misjudged just how big the gap was. He walks you through the proper postures and stances for lifting, only for you both to face a bit of a rude awakening...

You can't lift any of his weights... both of you feel a little awkward, to say the least. And you're a bit disheartened. He makes a plan to get a beginner's set for you, but Usopp and/or Franky probably beat him to the punch and build a training set.

Usopp and Franky work together. Or, well, more like they both get the idea to design fidgety little devices for you, and Usopp nervously tells Franky that they probably shouldn't double as armable explosives or mini missile launchers. There should probably be a clearer line drawn between something you absentmindedly fiddle with and a weapon of mass destruction. He nods earnestly. That's a good point, bro... Guess they'll just make em both separately! SUUUPERRRR!!!!!!

If you have hair pulling issues, Usopp suggests some sort of bandana to cover and pull your hair back like his, just as an added barrier between your hands and your scalp. On top of that, he insists on wrapping bandaids on your fingertips to make picking of all sorts much harder, and makes little finger-caps with Franky when the bandaids also interfere with more regular tasks. For hitting, with Chopper's advice, they make padded gloves, vests/coats to wear that help cushion the blows. They make more covert options too, like chest guards that can be worn under normal clothes. They run their drafts by you, making sure they're not uncomfortable to wear.

Franky's "SUUUPEERRRR!!" is just as likely to become a stim as it is to be overwhelming, honestly. He fashions some noise-canceling headphones for you. When Nami learns about these, she wants her own pair, too.

Brook is always ready to help sooth you with music, but sometimes the elegant notes of a violin can become a pitchy whine to you if you're already overstimulated. It just depends on the situation. It can get to him if he accidentally makes things worse for you, but he tries not to take it personally.

But it often does work. If he's not adding to a racket and things have quieted down, sometimes starting up a song will have your hands fall to your sides without you realizing you were hurting yourself in the first place. He's very giddy about it when he pulls this off but tries not to be obvious. Subtlety isn't exactly his thing, though.

He makes a joke from a place of concern- that if you keep tearing at yourself like this, you'll end up a skeleton just like him. If it bothers you, he'll never make a joke like it again. He isn't trying to be cruel, he just likes to deal with things by being silly. If you do like it, and he gets a laugh out of you, it becomes a running gag. "You know, they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. But as much as I would enjoy having another skeleton on board, this really isn't good for you..."

[iguessitsjustme]

Hey, quick questions. What's worse? Violating a dumb clause of a contract that you signed (when the clause should not exist in the first place) in a way that is not harming anyone and filling the world with love in the process or....being a fucking narc?

or

[strawberryscorp]

albus comes home after having a bad day and collapses into scorpius's arms

scorpius could be doing anything but he'd pause and play with albus's hair while letting him rant about his day

[im2tired4usernames]

Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die

[the-casbah-way]

i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry

[fragglerockopinions]

You're supposed to ask for help. If you don't ask for help you're never going to get help and you will be condemned for being useless and taking no actions to help yourself. If you ask for help. no one is going to help you. you are not allowed to wish that anyone help you or expect anyone to help you or you are a selfish piece of shit. you are not allowed to wish things were better. You're not allowed to ask for help actually because you are selfish and you didn't think about how others might feel being put in the vulnerable and intimate position of being asked for help. your friends did not consent to being asked for help or explained why you've been having problems and you should have thought about the way they felt before you forced them to read your texts asking them for help. I'm not even joking I should just kill myself because there is actually genuinely no such thing as getting better or getting help or being a good friend ?

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Gaslighting? In MY household? It’s more likely than you think