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venuslarkspur · 20 hours ago

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Teen Hero Shenanigans

(The Prologue)

Fall Of Girl Wonder

Summary: Your Damian’s Twin Sister who arrived 3 years after your brother, because of your late arrival you’re never excepted to become Robin, until your brother runs away and you volunteer to take his place in his absence, things are going well until Damian returns and you are thrown under the bus completely by being told you can’t be Robin anymore, after bottling up your anger you decide to go solo by running away and stealing a Batgirl costume. But you’re not alone, your sort of boyfriend joins you; which would be okay if it wasn’t your brother’s best friend of all people.

Pairings: Batfam x Batsis (platonic), Jon Kent x reader (romantic). Very bittersweet tbh, you love your bf but you’re also proving your worth to your family.

Notes: Reader and Damian are very on and off but do love each other ofc. (they only really had one another growing up in the league) To clear things up Bruce has a genuine reason for discharging reader of the Robin mantle but that’s an epilogue thing I fear, Reader is 16 so is Jon. I’d give this series maybe a 15+ rating as there will be be some heavy topics involved and some “problematic” language icl. Reader also is closest with Cass and Jason specifically, all of this isn’t at all comic book accurate but does include elements from the comics. (Also very fanony when it’s comes to the Batfam and Superfam) (I don’t own any of the characters this is fan-fiction 💙)

Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, Damian runs away from home for a bit. Unless count Bruce being a semi shitty father then not a lot of warnings tbh. This is just the epilogue we haven’t even got to the real drama yet. 👏

Words: 1.4k

6 months, 2 weeks and 3 days. That’s how long you’ve held the Robin mantle, you trained none stop before even having volunteered for it. You wondered what your plan even was, as long as Damian had it you couldn’t. Then he ran away and it was all too convenient, you got the mask, the gloves and the cute boy. Were you worried about Damian? Obviously, you had panic attacks about it mid patrol, which meant whatever member of your family that was unlucky enough to be awake at that time, had to take your shift. You knew Barbara and Tim would track him eventually and were doing everything in their power, but that didn’t ease your worry, you even considered alerting your mother but you knew if she got wind of this she would force you to come back with her for your own safety, and you didn’t feel like going to back the small, sad, isolated girl you were before.

You had also gotten closer to Jon Kent, a best friend of your brother. In truth, you were lovesick, so is he. But it came as a bit of bittersweet shock to you both that over your course of searching for Damian you had given up along the way and became invested in one another. Eventually it become so much more than just a mutual love for Damian, soon the Damian questions become You questions. Things progressed quickly, it went from “Do you think my brother’s close by?” to “My dad and siblings aren’t home, do you wanna come over?” He makes it over every time, Alfred knows and you know that he knows. You begged him not to tell your father or anyone for that matter, he respected your decision to wait for the right time but would occasionally come in asking if you wanted anything. (You know it’s a ploy to check on you two) Clark and Lois 100% know and they approve but have been sworn to secrecy by you, you weren’t ashamed; of course not. It’s just that if you told even just one of your siblings, knowing them they would spill and accidentally tell another one of your siblings until the cycle continues and eventually reaches Damian. Though you were sure Cass already knew and you suspected Jason was catching on, but you weren’t even surprised that he was beginning to find out. He knew you well, after a good three years spending time and training with him and his group of people it became hard to keep secrets, although your weird duo did start off as a result of you being upset and jealous of Damian’s close relationship with Dick, your sure you’d still pick being Jason’s dysfunctional- unofficial sidekick.

As for Cass you knew there was a mutual appreciation for the fact you were both less outnumbered in terms of Bruce’s female children, sure Barbara was like an old sister to you and she always supported you over the com line on missions. But it wasn’t the same as having an actual sister, but it was unusual to call any of them your siblings, not just Cass. It took a while but the first time you remember calling one of them your brother or sister was when Dick had to come all the way and pick you up from school because of a “skiing accident” with your father, you knew immediately something must of happened because Alfred was always on time to get you, So when Dick came along you told your teacher your brother was here to pick you up instead, she waved you goodbye and as your entered the car you noticed the slight grin of his face, looking like he wanted to tease you, but knowing you weren’t like Damian and wouldn’t even deny accepting him as a brother. You adapted much quicker than Damian, even if you have to get used to having 5 more siblings from now. (Yes I included Duke. <3)

It was the start of Christmas month and you were just doing your rounds with Stephanie and Barbara around the mall, Steph had gotten distracted a couple of times whilst window shopping but you and Barb managed to tug her along. You were nervous as your 16th birthday was also approaching, Jon had already turned 16 and you got to see him on his birthday; by masking it as going on patrol. It was fun but the question was popped at the party on when you were planning on telling your family about your relationship, you tensed up but luckily Lois took your side and encouraged you to tell Bruce and the rest when you were ready. This is why you like her. But right now you couldn’t think of that, you had to look for a present for Jon without being suspected.

Luckily Barbara had gone in the nearby cafe to get you guys some drinks, but that still left you with Steph. Maybe if you played it calm she wouldn’t even notice, so you started searching around looking at stuff and you thought you were safe. “Whatchu got there?” She bubbled, you took about a 5 foot jump backwards before blushing intensely. “Nothing?” You said calmly whilst shoving the item back on the shelf, she put her hand on her chin as if she was inspecting you. “Sooo who’s the lucky guy then? Or girl.” She smirked, “There’s no use lying is there?” You asked, “Absolutely not, so spill.” She leaned in and studied your face, “I can’t tell you who, but I’ve been seeing someone and before you ask I’m not in any trouble.” You confess, she shrugs as if wanting to ask more but Barbara called out to you both drinks in hand, you swiftly looked back at Steph just for her to do a zipping motion with her lips, which satisfied you enough. “What have I missed?” Barb asked, you let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in and spoke up. “Well I was just wondering-“ You were cut of by a notification sound on Barbara’s phone, “We need to get back to the manor, now.” She said without a hint of warmth in her voice. What has happened now? You had quickly all changed into costume excepting the worst.

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You hastily made you way through the manor, Steph and Barbara in tow. Tim was waiting at the entrance to the kitchen and he tried to stop you, “Hey-don’t go in yet-“ you shrugged him off and continued on and Barbara eyed him suspiciously. You wished that you had waited, you weren’t prepared to see your newly found twin brother sitting on one of the stools with an ice pack above his brow, deep cuts layered across his arms and bruises across his neck. He must of put up a good fight against whichever one of your siblings found him, you assumed it was Dick as he was in costume and had slashes of his own. Alfred sat next to him tending to his wounds whilst your father was stood next to him checking out the marks Alfred wasn’t attending to, the room had now fell silent as everyone had now realised how awkward it was for Damian to see his twin sister in a Robin get up, this is the worst. You simply only stared into each others matching green eyes until you made the first move and ran over collapsed into him giving him a bone crushing hug, he sat all tensed up before slowly returning the hug. “I’m sorry brother-I-I just.” Tears welled down your face before you threw off your mask and let it land on the other side of the room, you had never felt so relieved and guilty at the same time.

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That night you stayed with your brother as long as possible, you had so many questions but right now you just wanted to embrace his return. Since it was an uncomfortable situation for everyone, most of the family decided to stay the night. You had crossed paths with Jason mid kitchen trip and he checked in on you first, but you couldn’t pin why it felt like he was holding something in. “You know you could forget all about this Girl Wonder thing and just join me like old times.” He proposed, you looked at him puzzled. “By old times you mean a couple months ago? Also why are you asking me this? did something happen?” You questioned but watched as he couldn’t meet your gaze, “Bruce wants to see you downstairs, but you don’t have to go-“ “Okay fair enough, I’ll go see him now.” You interrupted and walked past him and ignored his muffled rejections as you were now approaching the main office.

You should have listened to Jason, you should have gone with him. You’d regret not listening to him.

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“Good news, you can put away the Robin costume for good now.”

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Taglist: @waterwyne @venusmorning

(Part 1 is out!)

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silaslich · 2 days ago

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The heat of imposition

John “Soap” Mactavish x f!reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley

Summary - Rugby AU. While watching a rugby match with Kyle you happen to catch the attention of not one, but two of the players. Neither of them like the fact that the other wants you too. [part 1/3]

Wc - 4.8k

An - I know fuck all about rugby so ignore any inaccuracies, we’re here for sex not rugby

It isn’t by chance that you find yourself at the pitch.

Your arm had been twisted- hands tied. You’d lie and say you had no choice, but the truth is that you simply have nothing better to do on a random rainy Saturday in October.

Kyle hadn’t given you much of an alternative when it came to making plans; his idea of fun might be sitting in the cold as he nurses a cheap beer and ogles a cluster of beefed-up middle aged men while they run around tackling each other- but you? It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when he’d texted you and asked if you were free to hang out.

You know him well enough to know that he’s called you in to be his wingman; someone to keep the beers coming to feed his already brimful confidence, someone that will push him if the chance for him to chat someone up arises. It’s what usually happens when the two of you meet for a drink or for dinner, his eyes wander and his intuition carries him toward the closest thing to a decent lay.

You’ll wave him off with a smile and mouth at him to call you when it’s convenient- usually to update you on how incredible or lacklustre the sex he’d abandoned you for was. You’re not bitter about it, not really, you have to give it to him. At least one of you is getting something. You suppose it’s for lack of trying, what with work and a sheltered nightlife- you can’t exactly say you’re putting yourself out there.

Kyle has tried time after time, sliding folded pieces of paper with your number scrawled on it to punters as they sit at the bar waiting for their drinks or pulling you with him as he ventures to the dance floor- accidentally bumping you into strangers, drawing their eyes and their attention. You appreciate his efforts, but you’re not exactly looking, it’s all the same to you. You’d slept around abit at uni and enjoyed it to a point, chasing that high and filling the endless void of assignments and work placements- you need something more now.

Settling is a scary thought. You’re not sure that’s what you’re after, but you don’t want a meaningless one-night stand either. You haven’t found that happy-healthy medium yet, you can’t be sure it exists. At least not to the men in this town, everyone knows everyone- it’s hard to get away from that.

You grit your teeth hard, feeling the way the cold ebbs its way into your bones. Even the beer isn’t keeping you warm, and that usually does the trick.

“Is it nearly over yet?” Your teeth chatter around the words, Kyle tuts at you.

“You can’t be serious” he turns to look at you, noting that you are in fact very serious. He frowns slightly. “It’s not even halftime yet”.

The sound that’s choked out of your throat makes him quirk a brow. Yet, Kyle’s attention is drawn back to the pitch by the sound of a whistle, some kind of swap between players has stilted the gameplay.

You’re not that well versed in rugby. Have kept up with it here and there, mainly because of Kyle and your boss because it’s all they talk about at work. They put it on every telly in the pub when their favourite team is on and they start to become idle when it comes down to the last few minutes of gameplay- stood there like toddlers that are transfixed by dancing fruits on a screen.

It’s quite funny really, watching Kyle as he barely tries to make it look as though he’s still working- rubbing a dry cloth over an already cleaned down table.

“Oh shit” Kyle’s breath carries on the breeze, drifting across your face as he speaks. It’s just that cold.

“What’s happening?” You mimic Kyle in the way he leans forward in his seat, watching carefully at what’s unfolding on the pitch.

Kyle doesn’t answer, instead watching as the away team’s players crowd together, meanwhile the home team congregates closer to their benches- they’re swapping someone on.

You see a wide smile crack across his face from out the corner of your eye, it pulls you to look at him fully. Seeing his wide-expectant eyes and gaped mouth, you grimace, slightly put off by just how much he’s enjoying watching on- you think you’d rather watch paint dry.

“When do they start brawling, ay? This is boring” you smack your lips together and take a heavy swig of your beer. It warms your throat, barely. Kyle turns to look at you, smiling like an idiot.

“Funny you should say that” he raises his brows and jerks his head in the direction of the players they’re swapping- you follow his gaze, it doesn’t enlighten you in the slightest.

You open your mouth to question him but Kyle beats you to it, already preempting your confusion and overall lack of culture for his favourite sport and his favourite team.

“They’re putting their main prop on, Riley” Kyle’s eyes watch the player in question and so do you, observing his team mates as they pump their fists and clap him on the back- following on as he moves further onto the pitch.

“He fight often?” You ask, eyeing the dark ink that stretches across both of his arms and retreats under the sleeves of his jersey.

There’s skulls and bones and snakes and gnashing teeth that make up a portrait of something that might be a dog. It’s hard to tell from all the way up in the stands; you’re sat within hearing distance of their shouts as the players go over strategy- but your eyes can’t quite focus enough to read the letters that brand his knuckles and the blocks of black ink that cover the backs of his hands. Shame.

Kyle laughs, something deliberate and knowing. “Yeah, you could say that”. His smile is hiding something, you just know it. You raise a wry brow.

“That why he was benched?” The look on Kyle’s face alone tells you all that you need to know, he nods as you shake your head with an unamused sigh.

“He’s been benched the last few games, close to being banned altogether from what I hear” Kyle observes Riley as he speaks, they’re about to restart play with a scrum.

You continue watching the game, noting another player that’s almost as big as Riley is. The back of his jersey reads Mactavish. He has a sharp smile on him, even with his mouth guard, you can’t closely see the rest of his features all that well, apart from his grown out mohawk- you didn’t realise this was the 70s.

Mactavish is quick to be on Riley, jumping high and wrapping his arms around the bigger man’s neck, hanging off him like a scarf. Their mouth-guard-smiles are wide and Riley swats at Mactavish, manhandling him until he’s got him hoisted off the ground entirely- that’s when he pushes him away and kicks his legs out from underneath him. Sending him skidding across the grass.

It’s rough housing. Simple play fighting. Kyle tells you it’s common practice for these two in particular, spending half their time butting heads and charging at each other like rhinos. Much to the dismay of their coach by the sounds of it. A whistle blows and it’s shrill in your ears.

“Pack it in bellends! Head in the game!” There’s a gruff looking man shouting from the side lines, he’s tall and broad with a beanie that’s pulled tight over his head- there’s specks of salt and pepper hairs in his mutton chops.

The two men snap their necks toward the coach and do as their told, trying to kick each others legs out from one another as they run toward where the rest of their team is forming up to restart play.

It’s starting to get interesting, because they’re not half bad to look at, these two, not half bad at all. Mactavish especially, bar the haircut. Riley on the other hand, he’s got that unconventional attractiveness about him; with his wonky nose and ashen blonde hair, hooded eyes that contrast heavily- they’re as dark as his tattoos. Perhaps it’s the way he carries himself too- his wide shoulders and thick chest, strong and solid and unbothered by the way the other men move out of his way when he passes the opposite team.

You don’t realise you’re gawping until Kyle waves his hand in front of your face, making you blink. He laughs to himself.

“Like what you see?” He asks, amused, watching as your cheeks flare. You bristle.

“Fuck off” you hate being caught out, especially after giving Kyle gripe this whole time about how boring all of this is. You stand abruptly, “I’m off to get something to eat, you want something?” Kyle eyes you, a smirk creeping up his face.

“Something salty if you don’t mind” he wags his brows and you smother your palm into his face as you squeeze past his legs to retreat down the steps toward the food kiosks. You hear his laugh follow you as you reach the bottom of the steps.

You keep an eye on the game as you walk, flitting your eyes from the pitch to the ground so you don’t slip on the steps. As you steal another glance over toward the home team, you find a pair of bright blue eyes looking right back at you. So blue they practically glow, burning right through you. As blue as celestite, something shines in them when he looks at you- but you’re quick to look away and scurry down the steps. Cheeks heating once again, for reasons even you’re not sure of.

It’s without your knowledge that Mactavish’s eyes follow you the entire time as you retreat. His stare trained on you. Distracted completely. Riley is quick to bring him back to earth, watching Mactavish watch you, he grunts as he steps toward the Scotsman, yanking out his mouth guard with a wet shlack sound.

“You ‘aven’t got a chance, now move your arse” Riley smacks the back of Mactavish’s head when he doesn’t move, watching you right up until the point you disappear out of his view. The Scot smiles wildly around his mouth guard, then spits it into his hand.

“Wanna bet?” he turns to Riley and Riley has seen that look before, many times, and it’s never ended well. Yet, he raises a brow as he looks down at the Scot, matching that same look himself.

After paying extortionate prices for a portion of chips and a burger to split you forego another beer each and go for water instead. It’s blatant daylight robbery.

You make a point not to look out onto the pitch as you make your way back to Kyle, save yourself from embarrassment and ending up falling on your arse. Kyle moves his knees to allow you past and you slump down into the seat, offering up the food to him so you can take a swig of water.

“You okay? You look flush, was it a long walk?” He picks up a few chips at a time as he shoves them into his mouth, chewing quickly and blowing air through his mouth from how piping hot they still are. You throw him a look, an unimpressed look.

“I’m freezing my tits off Kyle and I’m hungry, allow it” it’s a whine that leaves your mouth and Kyle soothes you mockingly, offering you some chips- you take them gladly.

Halftime comes and goes. The food has sated you, if only a little bit, but it saves Kyle from any more of your complaining. You find it easier to follow now, a belly full of food and the rest of Kyle’s beer that he didn’t want to finish- it makes you more palpable, makes you sit a little less stiff in your horribly uncomfortable plastic seat. Kyle appreciates it.

Mactavish and Riley don’t escape your eyes, not for the remainder of the game. It’s easier to gawp at them from up here, if they glanced over they wouldn’t exactly know that your eyes are fixed on them specifically, all they’d see is a pair of eyes looking in their general direction- obviously just following the ball as it passes hands. Little do you know, that they are indeed glancing over, as fixed on you as you are them, they’re just better at being sly with it. Only moving their eyes and not their heads and necks, not making it obvious. Not until Mactavish ups the ante.

It’s as you’re distracted for a second, turning your attention to your phone- your boss, Nik, asking if you can come in tonight. You text back quickly, letting him know you’ll see him at six. Looks like Kyle isn’t getting away from me at all today. That’s when you feel Kyle’s elbow in your ribs.

“Ow” you make a point to overemphasise, nudging his arm away from you like his touch burns.

“Look” his hand pats down repeatedly on your thigh as his opposite hand points towards the pitch, your eyes follow the point of his finger and your face pales.

It’s Mactavish. Waving both arms to get your attention, and when he has it his face beams- it makes you sink down into your seat, beyond blushed and embarrassed. He continues to wave as he rejoins the play, you watch the teams come back his way and then he winks at you, moving to turn fully to flank a teammate.

“Lucky bitch” Kyle’s mouth hangs open in shock, looking from you to Mactavish as he darts across the pitch. You groan.

“You have him then” Kyle laughs but you don’t, as nice as the player is to look at, you’re not in the mood for games.

“He wasn’t waving at me, love” he wags his brows and grabs your arm, flailing it around as he giggles like an idiot, far more excited for this than you are. You sit stock still and ignore Kyle, hoping he’ll pack it in. He does- eventually.

Before long, the game finishes and it’s the home team who are victorious. They jump and shout and knock into one another, again pulling each other into embraces and slapping each other’s backs with closed fists. It’s all well and good, you stand and pull Kyle with you- you’ve had enough of Rugby for one day.

Kyle lets himself be pulled along, filtering out amongst the thinning crowd. You’ve both got a few hours before you’re due to go into work, a quick nap wouldn’t go amiss, you guess it depends how fast Kyle can drive.

You’re walking in step with Kyle, careful of the slippy stairs, you clutch the sleeve of his jacket for stability and then there’s a voice that rings out. Thick with a Scottish accent and with an abundance of audacity to go with it.

“Oi! She yer lass or wha’?” It’s Mactavish, and he’s looking directly at Kyle, jogging over toward the stands.

Kyle stiffens and you glance at his face, he looks startled. Or would it be star struck? These players are celebrities to Kyle, you imagine this isn’t how he would want his first interaction with them to go. You watch Mactavish as he vaults over the first set of barriers, coming closer to where Kyle is now frozen to the spot- you’re stuck alongside him.

The stands are completely separate to the pitch and are raised up off of the ground instead of starting right at the pitch side, so Mactavish can’t actually get that close to talk. He instead has to settle for standing about ten foot beneath where you and Kyle are stood, craning his neck to grin up at the two of you. From this improved distance you can see him a lot clearer. There’s a prominent scar that cuts through his right eyebrow and reaches down his cheek and there’s the slight growth of stubble coming through on his cheeks and chin. He’s more handsome close up, you’ll give him that, it goes with the brashness he exudes. He knows he’s pretty.

He’s out of breath as he stands there, hands on his hips and so sweat slicked that you can see the way it drips down from his chin to his chest. It’s his eyes, still, they’re hardly natural. So bright and pale and beautiful to look at, you could fall right into them.

“Well?” The Scot wants an answer, you’re sure he won’t move until he’s got one.

Kyle wets his lips to speak but you cut him off.

“I’m no one’s lass, mate” there’s certain ways to hit on women, and coming right up to them and asking whoever they happen to be with if they’re single or not isn’t the best way- not in your humble opinion at least.

“Good news f’me then” his smirk cracks across his face, impossibly wide, your face doesn’t change at all. Still not impressed.

“What makes you think that?” It’s a honest question for him, does he think that because he plays a sport (sometimes)professionally that you’ll let him get in your pants? Does he seriously think that?

The man dips his chin as he stands there, shaking his head, it messes up the sweat-soaked length of his mohawk, when he looks back up at you again it’s messier then it had been. His smile is just as wide as before, his eyes crinkle from the autumnal sun as it beams from behind you. He flattens a palm to his chest and taps against it.

“Names Johnny” you raise a brow at him but it doesn’t deter him, not even in the slightest.

You’re not giving him clear indicators that you’re completely uninterested, more so that you don’t appreciate how he’s gone about the whole thing. Again, you must admit, he’s very lovely to look at.

It’s quick when you walk away, a game of chase, he can suffer for his pig-headedness. Kyle stands there, a little more than dumbfounded, while he wants to follow you- he also wants to speak with Mactavish, he’s been a fan for a long time. When he turns to look at the Scot down below, he finds him still smiling up at him, there’s a look of mischief in his eyes.

Only a few feet behind him stands another, it’s Riley, and he’d heard every word of your conversation with Johnny. He guesses the game is set now they know for sure that you’re single, but let’s be honest, they would have both been game even if you weren’t.

______________________________________

“Hold on a second, say that again?” Your jaw is locked tight, molars grinding, he can’t be serious.

Kyle scratches at the back of his head, sheepishly, there’s worry lines that are creasing his forehead as he looks between you and Nik. Good, he should be worried where you’re concerned. He fucked up.

“Look I said I’m sorry, alright? What was I supposed to say to him?” Kyle sits on a stool at the bar, opposite to where you and Nik stand side by side on the other side of it.

Nik throws you a glance and you shake your head at him, he’s just as unimpressed as you are, you both know that Kyle is smarter then this- at least, he is most of the time.

“How about not telling him where I work? Thats a start. May as well tell him where I live, Kyle” your tone drifts, while Kyle is your friend, he clearly hadn’t thought before he’d spoken. Thinking more about impressing his rugby idols than the safety of his best mate, these guys could be any breed of weirdo for all you know.

“I agree with her Kyle, you need to think before you say things like that” Nik folds his arms over his chest, thick brows furrowed as he stares at Kyle, who is scratching a single finger against the polished wood of the bar top.

You aren’t trying to gang up on him, he knows he shouldn’t have told Mactavish anything, but he still did- that wouldn’t change just because he suddenly felt bad. He’s got some grovelling to do, to say the least.

“Do you want to head home? I’m sure we can find a way to manage, doll” Nik’s eyes find yours, he’s always been a softie, always looking out for you like you’re the kid he never had. Your brows furrow.

“Absolutely not, I’m not about to be bullied out of work by a bunch of thick skulled ball chasers. Let ‘em try something Nik, they’ll soon find out” you leave the conversation at that, following the repeated wails of the glasswasher in the back as it lets you know it’s ready to be emptied.

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For the most part, the night is typical. It’s a busy Saturday night in a louder part of town and there’s everyone from regulars to students to tourists. It’s an easier night for you thanks to Kyle, his want to get back in your good books means he’s doing all of the shit jobs. Cleaning the bogs and serving tables. Clearing the glasses away and scrubbing the sticky tables. All while you’re tucked behind the bar pulling pints and making drinks, it’s something you could get used to, Kyle should piss you off more often if this is the treatment you get.

You watch the clock out of habit and notice it’s almost half nine, only an hour and half before you close, not long before you can go home and wash the day away and sleep all of this off. You just have to get through another hour and a half unscathed, that’s it.

Mactavish dashes those plans.

Before you see them, you hear them. It looks like the whole team might be here, they pile in through the door and already look as if they’re half Irish. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, knowing you’re in full view of not just them but other customers too.

Mactavish squeezes through the bodies as they linger around the booths and seats, not all able to fit comfortably, Mactavish sings your name.

“Fancy seein’ you here, bonnie” he grins wide, no longer obstructed by the mouth guard.

Compared to earlier when he was covered in grass stains and sweat, you hate to admit that he scrubs up well. Dressed casually with a shirt that’s close to matching his eyes, he doesn’t seem like the type if you’re honest.

“Oh yes, what a coincidence” the sarcasm reaches, you watch it in his eyes, the way his jaw flexes. He smiles and shakes his head.

“Tough nut to crack, ain’t ya?” He’s unapologetic with the way his eyes wander, the music thumps loudly in your ears but you can still hear the heaviness the alcohol adds to his tongue.

“What makes you think I wanna be cracked?” You make a point to busy your hands, to do anything to distract you from his eyes, there’s lemons in front of you that need slicing- they’ll suffice.

He raises a brow at that. Sliding his elbows onto the bar, bringing his height down to yours, eye to eye, if you’d just look at him.

“Saw the way you were lookin’ at me bonnie” he drops his tone, practically husks the words, he’s teasing. You laugh.

“Bein’ pretty bold to say I’ve got a knife in my hand” you hammer the point in, bringing the knife down heavier then before against the chopping board only to raise it up to slide your finger across it to catch the juice. He watches you carefully.

“You know how to use it?” He asks, again teasing, seeing how much he can get away with. He wants to soften you up. It’ll take more than that.

“D’you wanna find out?” It’s an open question, depending on how he behaves he could very well lose a finger, you’d deal with any charges he might want to press tomorrow. He just grins at you stupidly.

“I wanna take you out” he leans forward, reaching an arm over the bar to swipe a lemon slice, you watch as he sucks it into his mouth. Never breaking his eyes from yours, he’s got you.

“I want a lot of things, doesn’t mean I can have ‘em” you haven’t clocked him yet, not completely, he seems pretty harmless. But don’t they all?

He hums, sliding the lemon out of his mouth between his fingers, considering you. “Could give ‘em to you” his eyes meet yours but you’re quick to look away, returning to the lemons.

You scoff. “If I agree to a date will you go away? I��m working” just because you agree to something doesn’t mean you’re obliged, you’ll think on it more clearly when you’re not at work- being stared at by those burning blue eyes.

“Pretty rubbish conditions if ye ask me” he slurps at the lemon obnoxiously, you see the flash of a tongue piercing.

“Well forget it then-“ he interjects.

“Chill yerself bonnie, I’m goin’” he holds his hands up in surrender as he stands back to his full height, the lemon slice is replaced back between his teeth- for a brief moment.

He moves to step away but he’s quick to turn on his heel, chewing the lemon down till it slots inside his cheek. “Be back for yer number to arrange that date” he wags a finger in your general direction as he speaks, quickly turning back toward the booth where his teammates are all squashed in together.

—————————————————————————

Half an hour. Just half an hour and you can start to close up. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel.

Mactavish had behaved since leaving you at the bar, hardly looking in your direction, which you appreciated. You didn’t need him and his stupid blue eyes knocking you off of your concentration, not when you’re handling this much glass. You steal a glance over at his table from time to time, hearing his roaring laugh and watching the way he interacts with his mates. They all look close. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, making them soft, sitting on each other’s thighs with arms slung around each others necks. You imagine it’s normal that they’re all so close, they must spend hours and hours and hours together just training let alone at matches.

It’s quietening down now as a whole, some tables still linger to chatter, like the rugby lot. Most have gone now, moving onto the better clubs, this is just a pit stop usually- somewhere to line their stomachs before they get so paralytic that they’re soon laid in the streets laughing their heads off or spewing their guts up.

It’s an opportune time to start clearing glasses, now that the bar is quiet if not ready to close. Gaz is in the cellar doing whatever it is that he does down there, you hate it down there. So you’ll take the better job of clearing glasses and shoving them in the washer, fully prepared to forget about them until you’re back tomorrow.

This is usually the case, balancing a dozen glasses on one tray because you’re too lazy to make two trips. You’re so close to the bar, almost within reaching distance, and then someone from the rugby table throws his hands up and throws you off balance.

You close your eyes as you feel yourself tumbling, you’ve had too many shards of glass blasted out of your eyes by Nik and his saline bottle of doom, so you squeeze them shut tightly. There’s suddenly a warm pressure that coils around your waist but you’re too distracted by the sound of the glasses smashing to think about it. You dare to crack your eyes open, gaze immediately falling to the ground and seeing the mess that you’ve made. For fucks sake. Your eyes skate from the broken glass on the floor to the hand at your waist, gripping you tight, flush with something solid.

From up close you can see now that the tattoos on his left knuckles read soul.

Riley’s breathing is heavy against your spine and you don’t move, you daren’t move, and it seems Riley is much the same. Not until you hear a whistle from across the rugby table.

“Looks real cosy, Simon” that accent, it’s Johnny.

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gabessquishytum · 2 days ago

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Just a concept I won’t write a proper fic for, but I thought you’d enjoy. Off anon because I’m putting in a specific detail I’m probably including in a fic I will write properly at some point, so might as well.

Hob works for a cleaning company. They give him the keys, the address, and have him go to town on the empty houses for however many days it takes. Yeah, days, because we’re not talking just any houses, but big fuckoff mansions that haven’t seen a duster in decades. You know, the sort of houses that might have loads of antique and/or expensive stuff in them. So much of it, even, that no one will notice if Hob takes home a few pieces (read: sells them to the best bidder).

Hob gets called to the Burgess house because the owner is going on a months-long business trip, and like the spoiled rich cunt he is he wants the house cleaner than he left it when he returns, but has no intentions of paying the regular staff while he’s away.

Honestly? The house doesn’t look promising. Hob has a look around as he cleans and there’s a lot of old books, but it’s hard to guess the value of those to begin with and this… is some pretty obscure stuff? Looks cult-y to Hob, and he’s not about to fuck with that. He does find a huge fucking ruby pendant, but he has a feeling Burgess will notice that missing. There is a locked basement, though. That’s promising.

The key to the basement is hard enough to find, which is also very promising, but when Hob unlocks the door he’s met with… a dingy, dark, damp basement, and is that a fucking moat? A hint of gold draws his eye, and that’s when he sees it.

A big glass and steel… container? Surrounded by a circle of golden lines and scribbles on the floor. Again, looks cult-y… no. Not a container. A cage. There’s something in there, something with tiny white pinpricks for eyes.

Too curious for his own good, Hob gets closer, using his lighter to illuminate the space. And what he sees is… a man. A beautiful, very naked, reed-thin yet muscular man, but a man. Except for the eyes, black as night with gleaming pupils. And only for a moment. He’s only a man for a moment, because when Hob gets close (in a hurry to free him, Hob’s not a saint, Hob’s fucked with human trafficking before but he’s bloody not doing that again-), the man transforms.

His shape doesn’t change much -prominent ribs, long limbs, lean muscles- but he does get bigger, taller. The shock of ink-black hair on his head spreads all over his body, short mostly with big longer tufts at his chest, groin, elbows and… ears. He has large cat-like ears now, and a long tail to match, and a carnivore’s teeth.

Something about the man stays so human, though. His expression, just something about him, that makes Hob not want to run.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He eyes up the creature, basically a were-panther? Were-feline of some sort? Anyway, an 8 feet tall big cat in human shape, and Hob ponders just how deeply he wants to fuck himself. He doesn’t care about losing his job, bugger that, but… “Will you kill me, if I get you out of this? I’d really like to get you out of this.”

There’s no answer, but there is a very human expression of surprise. Maybe he cannot speak. Hob remembers the books, though, and the scribbles on the floor. The glass is thick, but Hob is pretty damn strong, and smart enough to figure out the rest.

Turns out that Dream (that’s the man’s name) is a very powerful, very magical shapeshifter. He can speak, just not without air to breathe. And he’s very very grateful Hob freed him from a hell of loneliness, suffocation and starvation. He’s not open about his gratitude, at first, and haughty as hell about it later, but he really quite likes Hob. As he stays at Hob’s place (technically in-case-I’m-caught-robbing safehouse) he becomes quite affectionate and possessive with Hob, proprietary even… and Hob is not the type to turn down a beautiful man. Or a beautiful big cat, as it turns out.

Hob is especially delighted to find that the big “spines” on Dream’s huge feline cock aren’t sharp things like on a house cat, but rather cartilage not unlike on a human eartip, which bend this way and that and make Dream hiss in pleasure when Hob takes his cock in hand, and feel so so good inside Hob ❤

Ommggg my friend this is such a good concept, there are so many details that I love and appreciate! I really like the idea of Hob having a cleaning company that's a cover up to steal stuff. The idea of him rifling through antiques just really appeals to me. He enjoys the history of it all, as well as the money that he earns on those little trinkets!

And were-panther Dream!! I love him already. The idea of him basically deciding that Hob belongs to him now is so hot! Even in human form Dream is strong and tall, especially when he's no longer starving. He can pick Hob up and throw him around... and his paws in feline form feel incredible as they press against Hob’s chest and pin him to the bed. Dream growls softly against his ear, pants hot breath and against his neck and absolutely ravishes Hob until he can barely walk... and then he uses his big sensitive cat tongue to lick every drop of his seed from Hob’s body <3

So yeah. Big fan of this whole concept. Would LOVE to read more from you, dear friend! Thank you for sharing!

#sb-essebi #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw hybrids #cw genitalia #cw monsterfucking

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adoresia · 3 days ago

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── .✦ QUIET DEVOTION

⌗ PAIRING : Megumi Fushiguro x Black!femreader

⌗ SYNOPSIS : After a long day, Megumi waits for someone important to return from a mission. As exhaustion meets quiet affection, the night unfolds with unspoken care and fleeting vulnerability.

⌗ CW : fluff!, slight hurt/comfort tones, Mentions of fatigue.

⌗ SIA HERE ! : Was bored so I wrote this Lol, I have nothing else to say 😜

The dorm room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a desk lamp casting long shadows over the walls. Megumi sat at his desk, his eyes skimming over a book, though he wasn’t really reading. His attention kept drifting to his phone, which he’d placed face-up on the table so he wouldn’t miss any notifications.

“I’ll come over after my mission, promise. It shouldn’t be too long.”

He had read that text at least twenty times now.

That was hours ago. He wasn’t worried about your safety—he knew you could handle yourself. It was more that a certain quiet anticipation had been eating at him all day. He’d never admit it outright, but he had wanted to see you the moment the morning started. He even debated texting you to come over earlier, but he settled for waiting. Megumi was used to waiting.

When the soft knock finally came at the door, Megumi was quick to his feet. He opened it to find you standing there, looking utterly exhausted, but still managing to give him a tired smile.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, stepping inside.

“You’re late,” he said bluntly, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“Yeah, well, missions don’t exactly run on a schedule,” you shot back with a yawn, dropping your bag by the door and trudging toward his sofa. “Miss me?”

He rolled his eyes. “You look half-dead.”

“And yet, I’m still here,” you quipped, settling onto the sofa and stretching your legs out. “You’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?”

“I wasn’t waiting.”

“Sure you weren’t,” you teased, smirking as you caught the faintest flicker of annoyance in his expression. “Anyway, I’m here now. So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan,” he said, closing his book and standing, “was for you to get some rest, but clearly, you’re too stubborn for that.”

You shook your head, forcing your heavy eyelids open. “No way. I didn’t come all the way here just to sleep. We’re spending time together.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open.” He shook his head and sat down at his desk again, watching as you tried to sit up straight, clearly fighting your fatigue. “I told you to take it easy if the mission ran late.”

“I’m fine.” You sat up straighter, as if to prove your point, but the movement only made you sway slightly before you caught yourself. “See? Totally fine.”

Megumi sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the desk. “You’re going to pass out in the next five minutes.”

“I am not,” you insisted, though your voice wavered with exhaustion.

He arched an eyebrow. “Right. Because falling asleep mid-sentence would really make for quality time.”

“Megumi,” you groaned, rubbing at your face to stay awake. “I’m serious. I really wanted to see you today.”

His gaze softened, but his expression remained impassive. “You’re seeing me now. That doesn’t mean you have to push yourself.”

“I said I’d come over, and I meant it,” you said, your voice quieter now, as if the last of your energy was draining away. “I just… I missed you, okay?”

His arms uncrossed, his fingers twitching slightly as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “…I missed you, too.”

You blinked at him, surprised by his honesty, and your lips curved into a sleepy smile. “See? That’s why I’m staying up. Who knows when I’ll get another confession like that out of you?”

He scoffed, walking over to the sofa and crouching down beside it. “If you think this counts as a ‘confession,’ you’re more delirious than I thought.”

“I’m not delirious,” you murmured, though your voice was muffled now as your head lolled to the side. “m’ just… happy to be here.”

“Sure you are.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, your eyes fluttering shut despite your best efforts to keep them open.

It wasn’t long before your head fell to the side, your breathing evening out. A faint snore escaped your lips, accompanied by a small trail of drool, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

Megumi sighed quietly and stood, walking over to crouch beside the sofa. His dark eyes softened as he studied your face, taking in the way your features relaxed in sleep.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered.

Megumi stayed crouched beside the sofa, his forearms resting on his knees as his eyes roamed over your sleeping face. Your features were soft in the dim light, peaceful in a way he rarely got to see. His gaze lingered on the curve of your cheek, the way your lips parted slightly as you breathed, the faint smudge of drool that had collected at the corner of your mouth. He reached out and carefully wiped the drool from the corner of your mouth, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

His eyes followed the strands of hair that had fallen over your forehead, Then, with the same cautious touch, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering for a moment. His fingertips brushed against your temple. The movement was slow, almost reverent, as if he feared waking you.

Megumi’s expression softened further as his gaze traced the small details of your face—the faint shadows beneath your eyes from exhaustion, the way your lashes fanned out against your cheeks, the subtle twitch of your lips as you murmured something incoherent in your sleep.

He exhaled quietly, leaning in just enough to notice how your breaths fell in time with his. His dark eyes searched your face as though trying to commit every detail to memory: the slope of your nose, the delicate curve of your jawline, the way your expression remained so utterly serene, even when your day had clearly drained you.

In that moment, Megumi felt something deep and unspoken settle in his chest—a quiet kind of gratitude that you were there, safe and close, even if you had worn yourself out trying to keep your promise to him.

The door suddenly creaked open, and Gojo’s unmistakable voice filled the room. “Hey, Megumi, I saw y/n walk in here. I was just wondering—”

Megumi’s glare was instant and cutting. He raised a finger to his lips in a silent demand for quiet, his expression making it very clear he was not interested in waking you up.

Gojo’s eyes flicked to you on the sofa and back to Megumi, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “Ohhh, I see how it is. I’ll just—”

“Quiet.”

“Got it.” Gojo backed out of the room, shutting the door with exaggerated care.

Once the room was quiet again, Megumi sighed and slipped one arm beneath your knees and the other under your back, lifting you effortlessly. You stirred slightly, your head resting against his chest as he carried you to his bed.

“Megumi…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“Shh,” he said softly, laying you down and pulling the blanket over you.

He slid in beside you, careful not to jostle you too much. For a moment, he simply lay there, watching your face in the dim light. Then, leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered, so quietly he wasn’t even sure if he’d said it aloud.

You stirred again, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “I heard that.”

Megumi stiffened. “Go to sleep.”

“You said it first,” you teased, turning to face him with a sleepy smile.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice laced with exasperation but not a hint of regret. “I said it first. I love you. Now go back to sleep.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured, closing your eyes and nestling closer to him.

Megumi sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he closed his eyes. “Good. Now shut up and go back to sleep.”

The irony wasn’t lost on him. For someone who carried himself with such practiced indifference, who rarely expressed his feelings in words, he had just uttered the most vulnerable confession without hesitation. He huffed quietly, half-annoyed at himself and half-amused by how natural it felt with you. Maybe that’s what frustrated him most—you had a way of undoing all the walls he worked so hard to keep up.

— 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 @/𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 !!

( note : I got the animated divider things from @/valetoria)

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twost3ps · 1 day ago

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I want Christmas now 🎄🎁

I love this ship I’m surprised I haven’t drawn them yet…

I don’t actually like how this finished but they’re supposed to be an angel on top of a Christmas tree and they’re hurling snowballs at people while running away o3o

#helluva boss mammon #hazbin hotel adam #mammon x adam #greedyguitar #I can smell Christmas idgaf if it’s a month away

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glitter-stained · 1 day ago

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Jason Todd Meta: My opinion on the csa headcanon

Does Jason's behaviour suggest he was a victim of csa?

There is very little, in terms of clinical signs, that’s going to point to csa specifically, because most symptoms, for psychiatric disorders, aren’t specific to one disorder or cause. One thing that’s usually a good hint would be children making very sexual statements/references/jokes/behaviours that are very inappropriate in context (a good example of this would be Roman Roy from Succession); night terrors are bed wettings amongst children/teenagers over a certain age. But that is absolutely not necessary: many, if not most victims of csa don’t display these specific signs, and a twelve years old that suffers from night terrors is not necessarily a victim of csa. The one thing that tells you for sure, in a person with trauma, that they have been a victim of csa, is that they’re telling you they have been a victim of csa. I’m insisting on that part because there’s a whole bunch of therapists (cough cough psychanalysts) that will tell you confidently that your psychiatric symptoms stem from a childhood sexual trauma (cherry on top of the shit cake if it’s incestuous) that you didn’t know about because you’ve repressed it. I repeat, that’s bullshit. If you meet a clinician who tells you that, RUN. So, a warning: this is probably the least “psychological analysis” of my “Jason psychological analysis posts”, because Jason’s symptoms do not allow us to conclude formally for or against a history of sexual abuse. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do some meta, make sure we're on the same page with what's analyzed here, some textual analysis, discuss what the csa headcanon does and does not imply in terms of his behaviour. I think it’s a good idea to start with it so we know where we’re standing with our analysis, regardless of the fact it’s maybe not the most interesting in terms of psychopathology and neuropsychology.

A couple of disclaimers:

I only talk about the comics I want to talk about. This is for two reasons, which are that 1) I do what I want and if I don’t like/don’t find something interesting, I’m not gonna waste time on it; and 2) I’ve been reading comics for a couple of months only, and there are, like, a lot of them. If there are comics you wanna see analysed under that lense, feel free to suggest them! I might not want to, but it also could be that I haven’t read them yet. Additionally, I'm not interested in questioning the morality of Jason's actions here. Ethics are fun, and I like talking about them sometimes, and morality sometimes has a place in talks about demonization but largely speaking this isn't the space for that. I separate talk about morality and psychology stuff as much as I can for a reason, so if you are looking here for excuses for his behaviour or arguments as to why he is a bad person, you're in the wrong place. Moral judgement is irrelevant here for the most part.

On the events of Red Hood: Lost Days:

Jason has, at some point in the comics, been a victim of csa. When Talia kisses Jason before pushing him off a cliff right after he got out of the Lazarus Pit, and when she initiates sex with him in Lost Days, that’s not consent!! That’s a grown woman taking advantage of a traumatized teenager who is, on top of that, deeply indebted to her. That’s a predatory act, with a steep power imbalance, it’s sexual assault, and on top of that there’s an element of suggested pseudo-incest. That decision was retconned, and thank god, because it was a brutal assassination of Talia’s character based on a good bit of racism, and also because the way it was portrayed doesn’t make it clear that Jason is a victim in a situation rather than that super annoying trope of “teenage guy gets to bang a hot MILF and hahaha lucky him”, writing a male character in a situation of SA without acknowledging it as SA or taking it seriously is one of the tropes I hate most, it reinforces stigmatisation and isolates victims. For all of these reasons, I’m not gonna include that element in my analysis, but it’s important to note that if you do include those scenes in your conception of it, then Jason is undeniably a victim of csa and everything discussed about it applies to him.

What if it were a lie?

I’ve said it before (and I’ll say it again), I deeply, violently hate headcanons/tropes where a character lies about being a victim of csa (whether it’s for manipulation, personal gain, any reason really I don’t care). It’s rare as fuck in real life, however it’s a common trope that feeds into fear of being wrongfully accused that causes push-back and increases social stigmatization. CSA is a painful thing associated with intense feelings of shame and already a deep fear of not being believed. Imagine making a considerable effort to seek help after something terrible happened/is happening to you, and you have to brave your fear of not being believed on top of that, and once you’ve made all that effort you get rejected and villainized because it’s just easier for the person you’re reaching out to not to believe it. So I’m awfully weary of this type of headcanon, and I think a general rule of thumb is “if your interpretation of what the character is saying is that he’s talking about how he was abused, especially if he’s talking about sexual assault, then it happened.” If you don’t like that, if you don’t feel like that’s good representation, then you can question the story, think it should be retconned, or rethink your interpretation of what the character says if it’s ambiguous, but hcing that the character lied about his assault is not a hypothesis we’re going to accept here no matter what. So we can start by scratching that one out: Jason never lies about being a victim of csa, or wilfully hints at it even though that’s untrue, at any point.

Two other ideas I’ve seen floating around that I think are worth mentioning:

No, just because Jason lived in the streets as a kid doesn’t mean the only way he survived was through underage prostitution. I genuinely don’t understand that idea, yes being a street kid makes you extremely vulnerable, yes it makes the risk of resolving to underage prostitution to survive higher but it’s absolutely not a fatality. That idea is, quite frankly, weird. Do you automatically assume if a real life person tells you they were in the streets for some time at a kid that they are a victim of csa? Also, I've seen the idea go around that because some people have a strong reading/hc of Jason as bi (which I have no problem with I love bi Jason), that would be an argument in favour of the csa hc. Please don’t do that. There’s no link between queer sexual orientations and childhood sexual abuse, that’s a harmful myth that we should work to deconstruct or, at the very least, not continue to vehiculate.

Another important thing to keep in mind: childhood sexual abuse =/= childhood sexual trauma.

Now, a traumagenic situation is a situation that might induce trauma (so development of, acute stress disorder, ptsd, cptsd, derealization, any traumatic pathology really). These situations exist on a continuum of probability to be traumatized by this situation. For example, a flood, a car accident, witnessing a murder and being sexually assaulted are all traumagenic situations, but the probability of developing trauma from them are very different. It hinges on personal, situational, social, and environmental risk factors (that have nothing to do with being weak, anybody can develop trauma). A definition for traumagenic situations can be found in the diagnostic criteria for ptsd in the dsm-5:

A. “Exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence in one (or more) of the following ways:

1. Directly experiencing the traumatic event(s).

2. Witnessing, in person, the event(s) as it occurred to others.

3. Learning that the traumatic event(s) occurred to a close family member or close friend. In cases of actual or threatened death of a family member or friend, the event(s) must have been violent or accidental.

4. Experiencing repeated or extreme exposure to aversive details of the traumatic event(s) (e.g., first responders collecting human remains; police officers repeatedly exposed to details of child abuse). Note: Criterion A4 does not apply to exposure through electronic media, television, movies, or pictures, unless this exposure is work related.”

Note that the this last criteria has been added from the DSM-5 in order to explain cases of PTSD observed in at-risk jobs like cops exposed to repeated detailed child abuse, first responders collecting human remains, or, crucially, vigilantes repeatedly exposed to brutal crimes. This means that Jason, when he works on the Dumpster Slasher case, when he is horrified to find Gloria in the immediate aftermath of her rape (and later finds her dead body, because witnessing the consequences of these traumatic events is also an important component of that second-hand trauma), is being exposed to a very traumagenic situation. As I said before, that doesn’t necessarily mean you will experience trauma (thank fuck for that), but there are factors that influence that. SA related situations has an already pretty high probability of inducing trauma. On top of that, age is a big factor in that: the younger you are, the less resources, emotional regulation, development and coping mechanisms to face the traumagenic event you have (though there is such a thing as “too young to have PTSD" -when your memory is simply not developed enough for the memory to traumatize you because you will not remember the event.) At fifteen, with his memory fully developed but his brain going through so much changes because of teenagehood and his past history, Jason would be at risk. On top of that, you’re more at risk to get traumatized if you’re already stressed out when the event happens, so Jason’s mental state at this point in his robin run is also a risk factor. All to say, it’s very plausible for Jason to have sexual trauma without being a victim of sexual abuse in relation to canon events. Besides, in headcanon territory when it comes to Jason’s childhood before Robin, there are so many ways to be exposed to sexual violence : witnessing/finding his mother being a victim (considering the position of extreme vulnerability Catherine was in), witnessing assault in the streets, being the victim of attempted SA and escaping, watching street kids get picked up and later find their bodies/being told by other kids, as a cautionary tale, in excruciating detail, testimonies of their own assault… Or for example, if we’re thinking about Arkham Knight, being constantly threatened with SA, it being hinted and joked about and hanging over him like a sword of Damocles is something I could see Joker and other inmates do that could definitely induce sexual trauma even if it doesn’t happen ; what matters most, in trauma, is that the fear is real. Mechanically, when we’re looking at the way trauma works even on a biological level, the overwhelming fear is at the core of the pathology. (This is also why you can develop PTSD after a psychotic episode.) Like, my point isn’t that one of these things happened to Jason, or that he has to have sexual trauma from the events of the Diplomat’s Son or anything -mostly just that this is a possibility, something very serious that happens and an important nuance that I never see in discussions on the csa headcanon, and while it’s not exactly what the debate is about, I think it’s something important to ponder.

Do you consider the csa hc to be canon?

So, there are a lot of Jason stories, and I’m very pro “not take in account what is said in comics you dislike in your conception of canon” because if I did that absolutely no bat character would be readable, I have to believe that no character is defined by their worst writers. And boy, does Jason have a lot of bad writing… On top of the personal retcons, there are also the canon retcons: like Battle for The Cowl is retconned… Unless someone decides to reinject/revamp it into the narrative (please don’t please don’t it’s irrecuperable let it lay with the Flying Todds where it belongs). So, let’s see. There are three writers/arcs that imply/mention the csa hc: Starlin’s writing of Jason’s post-crisis Robin Run (canon though some stuff in it seems to have been retconned), Winick’s writing in Green Arrow: Seeing Red (canon as far as I know), and Battle for the Cowl (retconned). It’s worth noting that one of those are considered to be foundational works for Jason’s character (Jason’s post crisis Robin Run and Starlin’s part in it), and another was written by Winick, who wrote the other two foundational Jason stories: Under The Red Hood and Red Hood: Lost Days. On a personal level, I’m very mitigated about what I like and accept about it. I base my whole love and characterization of Jason about his post-crisis Robin Run, I love that little guy so much, Starlin’s take on Jason’s Robin Run is absolutely canon to me (which does not mean I like Starlin as a writer, thank you very much). On the other hand of the spectrum, the only reason Battle for the Cowl isn’t my least favourite comic ever is because The Killing Joke exists, absolutely not canon, get this thing away from me. And then in the middle, my feelings on Seeing Red (on the entirety of Winick’s Jason really) vary depending on the day, because I do like a revenge story that challenges the status quo with tropes of “bad victim” and it sets up Jason as a character based on love rather than morals which I adore, but there are also some elements of psychophobia in the writing that I (who approach stories through the filter of psychopathology first and foremost) can’t just look past, and also the way it intertwines with classist stereotypes. So do I consider Seeing Red to be canon? In good faith, yes, but whether I’ll accept it as such really depends on the day. In terms of the csa headcanon: it’s heavily hinted in BTFC but not outright said, it’s there as a undercurrent in Starlin’s run because of his intention (to make Jason die of AIDS). And then we have Seeing Red. Basically Jason lists elements about Mia’s life, including her past with underage prostitution (so, just to be very clear, csa), and says they’re very similar, having both lived on the streets, and understand having to do bad things when it’s necessary. This is not the same as saying “I was a victim of csa”, and what he’s saying could be interpreted differently (we know that he was stealing tires, and “only what he needs to survive”, so he could have been referencing small-time theft.) So, it could be a reference to something else, I totally understand why some people want to interpret differently. It just… Feels like such a weird and weak argument to be equating boosting tires to underage prostitution, to me it’s very ooc (in comparison to UTH Jason), and it would feel like weak writing from someone like Winick. Aka it’s not technically canon, and you don’t have to accept it as such(I understand the mentality of "I'm rejecting this interpretation because it feels like demonization of csa victims" perfectly), but personally I think it takes a lot from Jason’s character in Seeing Red and from this story in general.

#jason todd #dc #jason todd meta #the csa meta part 1 #because tumblr is being annoying #red hood #dc comics #dc critical #tw csa mention #tw csa #tw suicide #robin #robin ii

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thoughtfulfiction · 1 day ago

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Stolen Glances

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

Warning: alcohol and drinking mentioned

Five days. That wasn’t even a full week. It should be relatively simple. You and your friends were going to spend a few days at the Fern Ridge Reservoir in a luxury home that Justin had rented out for the group. Everyone had their own rooms, the house was massive and you’d get to relax off the grid and recharge your batteries. There was relatively nothing to complain about.

“So…are you going to tell Justin you’re into him yet or just keep torturing yourself?” Your friend Bree asks, snapping you out of your daydream, carrying her bags to the car. The two of you had flown into Oregon from LA and were driving to the lake with Charlie and Tate, two of Justin’s friends that had really become like family to you in the last few years.

“She’s more likely to admit her feelings when she’s dead.” Tate scoffs while grabbing your backpack and shoving it in the trunk. “I want to have faith in you kid but, I just don’t know if you’ve got it in you right now.”

Charlie walks out of his house and hands you your water bottle, “you can tell him when you’re ready. Don’t listen to them, they're just impatient. Like five year olds who keep asking their mom to buy them McDonald’s on the way home.”

You simply nodded, staring daggers at your friends after Charlie came in and defended you. He hopped in the driver’s seat while Bree and Tate sat in the back. Looking out the window, you let your mind roam, both excited and nervous for what this little trip had in store.

It really wasn’t your fault, falling for him was like waking up on the couch with the tv on and not even remembering that you fell asleep. One day he was a good friend, a friend who you met years ago when he was a rookie living in a frat house in Costa Mesa. Then, somewhere along the way you fell for his unwavering kindness and his sense of humor. Or maybe it was the way the corner of his mouth tilts up sometimes in a side grin. Or his ability to always look like he just rolled out of bed but somehow still looked extremely put together. Everything about Justin, especially the little things, made you want him more. You just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that. Admitting your feelings would just complicate things. And what if he didn’t even feel the same way? The thought of listening to him let you down easy while trying to spare you the embarrassment really just made you want to crawl into a hole on the side of the road and never come out.

So yes, long story short, these so-called “feelings?” You had no choice but to take them to the grave.

“Can we just have a nice relaxing weekend and enjoy ourselves? We can leave the drama and whatever else for when we get back to California, please.”

They simply nodded and you caught Tate and Bree sharing a look but you didn’t want to even think about what that could mean for you, instead deciding to focus on the scenery for another 20 minutes before the house came into view. Charlie started honking as soon as he pulled into the driveway and Gabe came running out, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hey neighbor.” He mutters out, giving you a squeeze.

“We haven’t lived next to each other in four years, Gabe.”

“Best year of my life honestly. I don’t think I’ve had more junk food…ever.”

Bree comes up behind the two of you and gets a hug of her own. “That’s because you and Nabers here kept suggesting pizza and ice cream nights. When y/n told me some NFL guys moved in next door I thought we’d be seeing more vegetables and less Oreos but it really was the best time.”

The guys unloaded all the bags from the car while you and Bree caught up with Gabe’s girlfriend Jordan. She informed you that Justin had gone out to get groceries with one of her good friends that she brought with her.

“Katie just thinks Justin is the sweetest thing ever so I figured why not introduce them. I’m tired of watching her drool over his old Instagram pictures. Hoping to play Cupid this weekend.” She jokes and you force out a small laugh, feeling your stomach turn at what this girl could possibly look like.

An hour later Bree rushes into your room and closes the door behind her after everyone has finally met and introduced themselves. “I know you said no drama but—”

“Nope, I don’t wanna hear it,” you interrupt her while you unpack your bag. “We are in a freaking mansion, on the water. Let’s focus on that!”

“Or…” she sits on the bed, completely interrupting your flow. “We could just acknowledge the fact that she took the room right next to Justin’s after knowing him for approximately two seconds. And she looks like the second coming of Candice Swanepoel. I mean, it’s kind of unfair,” she huffs.

You shake your head with a laugh. “She’s gorgeous, it’s pretty unreal. And definitely unfair. But we are going to focus on other things like having fun, enjoying the weather and spending quality time with our friends. Maybe have a couple strawberry margaritas with sugar on the rim. And we will be nice to Katie, even if she does look like an OG Victoria secret model before SavagexFenty kicked them to the curb. We will be welcoming and nice.”

She looks up at the ceiling like she can’t hear you and then back at you to face your pointed look, warning her to be on her best behavior. “Fine. I will be nice to Candice Jr.”

“Thank you.” You roll your eyes and pat her on the back.

Justin suggested riding jet skis which sounded amazing until Katie said she’d just finished touching up her makeup. Bree was about to make a snide comment but you elbowed her in the side before she could get the words out. Gabe and Jordan were taking a nap and Charlie was on the phone with one of the parents of the high school team he was coaching so you, Bree, Tate and Justin headed out after changing into your swimsuits.

Everyone found a life jacket that fit them just right and you hopped onto the back of Justin’s jet ski.

“Please promise me you won’t drive this thing like a grandma. I’m here for a good time, not a long time.” You joke, grabbing onto his waist. His laugh vibrates against you and you bite back a smile. He takes off and the two of you bounce against the water leaving you holding on for dear life. After a few minutes, you get used to it and it honestly feels freeing, just you and him out on the open water, taking a tour of the homes that are a little ways away until he stops at a man made cave, far away from any prying eyes.

“What are you doing?” You ask, feeling your heartbeat in your ears. Even in the shade, the reflection of the water hitting his eyes made you feel insane. And you couldn’t stop looking at him if you tried, not that you were trying very hard in the first place.

“Have you ever driven a jet ski before?” You shake your head no and he motions for you to switch spots with him. He leans over you to show you where the on switch is and how to work the speed and the brake, curving his hands over yours on the handles.

The smile that is threatening to take over your face is too much, so you settle for a joke. “You, Justin Herbert, giving up…control? This is a moment in history.”

“Just drive,” his cheeks heat up, turning a light shade of pink, “and try to get us back to the house in one piece, please.” You may or may not have driven as fast as you could with a few extra turns just to feel his body against yours for a little bit longer.

Although the afternoon was a victory, the evening brought you right back to reality. Katie had practically been glued to his side ever since you came back to the house. She sat next to him at dinner and practically jumped into the loveseat after he sat down for movie night. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and walked into the kitchen to grab some kettle corn, taking your time in the kitchen before eventually making your way back to your seat. Luckily it was a movie you’d seen a dozen times so you weren’t missing anything. If anything, the movie in front of you was nothing compared to the horror film to your right, so Charlie cracked a joke to get you out of your head. Justin was so focused on watching his friend make you laugh that he didn’t even realize that Katie had fallen asleep on his shoulder, holding onto his arm like it was her personal body pillow. You caught a glimpse of the domestic scene that looked straight out of a romcom and it almost made you want to call it a night right then and there. But you sat through it and watched some random girl cozy up to the man you’d had serious feelings for…for the last year.

The next morning, you woke up later than usual. Truth was, you hadn’t gotten much sleep since you were thinking about Justin and Katie all night and you needed something else to focus on. You walked into the bathroom you were sharing with Bree to brush your teeth and get ready for the day.

When you swung the door open you froze, staring for a brief moment before covering your eyes. “Um—I’m so sorry I had no idea you were in here! Why, why are you in here? Doesn’t the master bedroom have a bathroom attached?”

Justin quickly covered up, grabbing his towel and wrapping it around his waist. “Bree liked the mirror in my bathroom so I let her use it. I thought the door was locked, how did you get in?”

“The lock is broken, Bree didn’t tell you that?”

He lets out a nervous laugh, “she may have neglected to mention that.” You were going to kill her.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna go. So sorry again for the—you know what? I’m just gonna leave and we can act like this didn’t happen.” You close the door before he can utter a word and you head back to your room, silently praying that no one finds out about this.

He couldn’t take it anymore. You were avoiding him like the plague the entire day. Since the morning you’d hardly looked at him, even when he pulled you aside to assure you that your little encounter this morning, although awkward, was totally fine. He even sat through watching you and Charlie go tubing together and share a pizza at lunch, but his final straw was when he saw you taking a nap together in Charlie’s bed with the tv playing. The two of you had always been close but the quarterback couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something more was going on and he didn’t like it. This trip was supposed to be about him getting to spend some quality time with you before training camp and Charlie knew that. Nothing was going according to plan and Justin knew he had to do something about it.

He rushed to get ready for dinner and let out a sigh of relief when he found you in the kitchen. “I know it’s none of my business but, is there something going on with you and Charlie?”

You took a big breath, not exactly ready to have this conversation and yet here you were. “No,” you state blankly, “there’s nothing going on between Charlie and I.”

“Then what’s going on? You’ve barely said two words to me all day so there has to be a problem.” Justin knew he had no right to be jealous, especially of one of his best friends but something was just nagging at him to keep asking questions. It was like word vomit and he couldn’t stop.

“Why are we even talking about this right now? It’s really not a big deal Justin, seriously, just let it go please.”

He clearly wasn’t having your attempts to dodge him. “No! I'm not going to let it go until you tell me. I mean, if this is about this morning I thought we handled that.” You don’t miss the subtle clench in his jaw. His patience is quickly running out and you really don’t get why this has him so worked up. Possibly because you’re so focused on your own rollercoaster of emotions.

“It’s not about this morning!” You blurt out. He was backing you into a corner, literally.

His pleading eyes were begging you to talk to him. “Then what is it about?”

“You! It’s about you. How I feel about you is a problem. It is THE problem, okay?” You shake your head, mentally shutting down at the look on his face. There it was, that horrible look you wished you’d never see…pity. Honestly? It looked worse in real life than it ever had in your nightmares and the sigh he gave you afterwards was just the icing on the humiliation cake.

“Y/n, I—”

“Are you guys ready to head out for dinner?” Gabe pops his head in, catching an immediate whiff of the uncomfortable air in the room. “Uh sorry. Was I interrupting something?”

“No.” You fold your arms across your chest, creating a physical and emotional barrier between the two of you.

“Yes,” Justin says at the same time, furrowing his eyebrows and giving you a sideways glance, his gaze softening at your watery eyes.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” you huff out with a sniff, after a quick swipe under your eye you step around the man who was whispering for you to wait. You ignored him and kept moving your way out of the house, sliding into the car without turning back. Charlie took one look at you and asked if everything was okay but you really weren’t sure how to answer. How you were really feeling would surely bring you to tears and you really didn’t feel like crying in a car full of people.

That evening, your phone lit up as you sat motionless in your bed, contemplating going home the next morning. Of course it was a text from Justin.

I know you’re awake, I can’t sleep either. Can we please talk?

You texted him back a simple “fine” and there were two tiny knocks on your door less than a minute later. He was probably standing outside your room door when he texted.

“We didn’t get to finish our conversation earlier.” His voice is even deeper due to the exhaustion. You didn’t even think that was possible.

“I said everything I needed to,” you say with a casual shrug.

“Well good because I need you to listen,” Justin closes the door behind him and takes in a breath. “You’re one of my best friends…”

“Oh god please. You don’t have to let me down gently. I’m a big girl I can—”

“I’m not done. And I’m not—I’m not letting you down gently. I’m not letting you down at all. You have been one of the most consistently good things in my life and somewhere along the way you became a lot more than consistency. You’ve become somewhat of a necessity, an essential part of my life that I don’t think I can or want to live without.” He sighs, running a hand over his face with a sigh and you just stand there, limbs shaking in anticipation, waiting for him to get to his main point.

Justin closes his eyes, visibly collecting himself and his thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that you aren’t the only one with feelings here. And that your feelings? They aren’t a problem.”

“You—you mean that you share the…you like me too?” You laugh a little, in complete disbelief.

He steps toward you, nodding with a smile of his own. “I really like you.”

“Wait…but what about Cand—Katie? She’s gorgeous, fun and is super into you. Plus she looks borderline perfect in the morning from what I gathered. I’m pretty sure I drool in my sleep sometimes and I have eye boogers.”

That really sends him over the edge and he covers his mouth to stifle a laugh. “It’s a good thing I love eye boogers, they’re my favorite.”

You smack his chest at the playful joke and his energy pulls you in, pressing your bodies together like magnets. And right there you feel like a kid again, standing next to your crush with your heart racing. He leans down and his lips brush against yours and he asks if this is okay, causing you to nod because obviously you want this with him, and more. Your lips fit together seamlessly and he tilts your head up by lightly cupping your face, running his thumb across the length of your jaw while deepening the kiss. Your entire body is covered in goosebumps even though the kiss is so soft and gentle. He pulls away slightly, pecking your lips after he takes a second as to not rush into things too quickly, waiting too long to ruin the moment. Pure bliss coats all of his senses as he begins peppering your face with more feathery kisses, silently willing himself to always remember the softness of your skin and how amazing it feels to finally be this close.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” the grin he’s sporting is taking over his entire being and before you can respond he’s kissing you again. You happily oblige, smiling against his lips with a satisfied hum.

The next morning you were pretty sure you were still smiling. You woke up feeling super comfortable, turning around to catch a glimpse of him, thinking about pinching yourself to make sure this was real. He looks so peaceful, his clothed chest moving up and down rhythmically, a slight pout on his face. You can’t help but run your fingers through his hair, smiling to yourself once again when he begins to stir in his sleep. With his eyes still closed, he pulls you into his arms, lazily kissing you like he’s been doing this for years.

“Good morning,” he whispers, his eyes finally open, looking alert and bright.

“Good morning, I cannot believe you practically tackled me first thing in the morning. I probably have morning breath.”

“You don’t and even if you did, I wouldn’t care. And you don’t have eye boogers or drool on your face, you look really good first thing in the morning. The most incredible sight to wake up to.” You want to kiss him again but you decide it’s best to hold off, leaning over to check the time on his phone. “It’s 5am, you should probably head back to your room before everyone wakes up and this turns into a CIA interrogation.”

He chuckles, kissing your forehead before he gets up to stretch out his limbs. “We have all the time in the world to figure this out when we get back to LA, keeping this between us is probably our best bet for now. I do not want to hear all of Tate’s questions. And Gabe would be even worse, he’s been telling me to do this for years.”

You tilt your head towards him and whisper yell, “you’ve thought about this for years and didn’t say anything?”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one who was helplessly pining over someone and refused to say anything about their feelings out of fear of rejection. I was scared too. And now I’m not. Now, I’m going to head back to my bed and count down the minutes until I get to kiss you again.”

You shake your head, laying back down ready for your second round of sleep. “You’re a dork.”

“I am. And that is your favorite thing about me. Get some sleep, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Waking up again around 8:30, you realize that skipping out on dinner last night has come back to haunt you. Gingerly walking down the stairs as to not wake anyone up, you tip toe into the kitchen quietly, only to find Katie already up and pouring a glass of orange juice.

“Good morning,” she sings, looking bright and cheery. Maybe in another life she was Giselle from Enchanted because she could definitely be some sort of Disney princess. “I’m so glad you’re awake because I need some advice. Do you think Justin would want pancakes or waffles? I wanna surprise him with this breakfast tray and I just want everything to look right you know? So what do you think?”

I think his tongue was practically down my throat last night and he’d probably want to have me for breakfast but I can’t say any of that. “Um let’s see. Definitely pancakes and skip out on the orange juice cause he’ll probably want some coffee.” As painful as it is to help her, you know this small sacrifice will pay off. You’ve basically already got the guy, there’s no use in rubbing it in the poor girl’s face when you won’t be seeing her anymore two days from now.

Katie nods excitedly, prepping her pancake batter and thanking you several times. You settle for a bagel with cream cheese and head back upstairs to get ready for the day. The afternoon isn’t very eventful, you realize that the guys had already left for a fishing expedition earlier in the morning so Katie’s breakfast was cold by the time Justin got back. He looked at you hesitantly, waiting for you to nod your head before he thanked her and tossed the food in the microwave. Jordan suggested the group go out to a bar/club that night since you and Bree had been mentioning these famous strawberry margaritas since the day you arrived.

The music was loud as soon as you walked in. Gabe ordered the first round of drinks and you snuck out of the booth to reapply some mascara while the other girls browsed the marg menu. A knock on the door startles you into dropping your makeup in the sink.

“Occupied!” You yell out.

“It’s me.” Smiling to yourself at the familiar voice, you lock the door behind you when Justin walks in.

“Hi.”

Your face is in his hands with the mascara long forgotten as he softly says “c’mere,” leaning down to capture your lips with your back still against the door. He tastes like the shot of Don Julio you all just took and a little bit of mint. Your hand is in his hair again, pulling it ever so slightly so you are still as close to him as humanly possible without standing on your toes. Justin knows you both have to be back soon before anyone notices but the thought of your body not being practically glued to his makes him really want to go home. The kiss today is sloppier than last night, there’s more urgency, more fire. Neither of you thought it could get better but your hands are all over each other, your arms struggling to wrap itself around his bicep and at some point he had a handful of your ass. Not that you were complaining.

The kiss leaves you breathless, letting out a soft laugh as you pat him on the chest. “We should stop. I don’t want to but, we have to unfortunately.”

His lips curl into a small frown, almost a pout and you are seconds away from kissing him again. “I know. You should go first and I’ll be right out. Definitely need to splash some cold water on my face or something, I need a minute.”

Nodding your head in understanding, you step out to give him some space, but not before he grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist.

An hour later you’re two margs and two shots in. Katie has been hanging all over Justin as soon as he got back from the bathroom and it’s taking everything in you to prevent yourself from yelling at her to get her hands off of him. And bless his heart he really is trying to keep his distance, catching your eye with an apologetic look every time she finds her way next to him again but it’s really getting exhausting.

“We should go dance!” Bree exclaims, snapping you out of your jealous rage. You nod immediately, desperate to look at anything other than what is happening at your table.

🎶H-O-T-T-O-G-O

Snap and clap and touch your toes

Raise your hands, now body roll

Dance it out, you're hot to go

H-O-T-T-O-G-O

Snap and clap and touch your toes

Raise your hands, now body roll

H-O-T-T-O-G-O🎶

You found yourself singing your heart out with not only Bree but some guys that also knew every word to the song. Getting lost in the moment and also not being remotely close to being sober you danced, letting him grab your hand and spin you around as Chappell Roan continued to play.

“I’m Matt,” the stranger tells you when the song is finished.

You hold your hand out, “y/n. You’re not a bad duet partner Matt.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he laughs, still holding onto you.

An awkward silences washes over the moment when you begin to sober up a bit and pull your hand back. “I need to grab some water, excuse me.”

“Hello! Earth to y/n! That guy was cute and totally into you. What the hell is your problem?” Bree lectures you as you sit at the bar.

He’s cute but he’s not Justin, you think to yourself. “I just needed a drink that was a lot of dancing and it’s hot out there.”

Your excuse is pointless because you feel a presence behind you. “Can I get three waters please?”

Bree looks at Matt, thanking him and grabbing her water bottle to give you some privacy. He settles in the bar stool next to you and slides the water in your direction. “Are you from here? Because I’d remember a face like that walking around.”

The sentiment would usually make you feel good but now you just wished a certain someone was giving you flirty compliments. “I’m only here for a few more days unfortunately. Then it’s back to real life.”

“Well maybe I could convince you to come back? Make this some sort of regular thing? Us seeing each other?”

Back at the table, Justin was staring daggers at the bar area. As soon as Bree sat down without you, Tate asked where you were.

“Attagirl.” The football player heard his friend say and he moved around in his seat to get release the building tension in his shoulders. Katie was next to him saying something but all he could focus on was how close this guy was sitting next to you. Did the chairs really need to be that close?

“Bro, Justin.“ Charlie snaps in his face.

“What?” His tone was a bit more aggressive and irate than he intended but he couldn’t help it.

“If you hold that bottle any tighter you’re gonna shatter the glass man.”

He hadn’t even noticed he was treating the Nectarine Premiere bottle like it was a stress ball. The man slid it away from him on the table, turning his gaze back to the bar. You were laughing at something the guy was saying and the way the guy was looking at you was eating him alive.

Katie placed her hand on his thigh and kept going with her story that she’d been telling. Justin couldn’t take it anymore.

He plucked her hand off of him and got up when he saw you and the guy heading outside. “Excuse me.” The group watched him take several long strides until he was out the door.

Matt looks up with his mouth open as soon as Justin comes into view. “Dude, you’re Justin Herbert! I’m a huge fan man I bought your jersey last year. Wear it every Sunday.”

“It’s uh—it’s nice to meet you…”

“Oh it’s Matt.”

“Matt,” he says slowly trying to get rid of the bitterness in his voice but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Matt is too busy being a fanboy to see that anything is wrong. They take a selfie and Justin sends him on his way, the fan now too excited to have remembered he was trying to get your number.

Justin blows out a breath, staring at you until he hears you laugh. “This isn’t funny,” he groans.

“On the contrary, it’s hilarious. I’ve had to deal with it for the last three days. You didn’t even last an hour before running over here and putting a stop to it.”

“I didn’t run,” he counters, “I walked—very quickly. Not my fault I have long legs.”

You take a sip of your water. “Sure. Now how are you going to get yourself out of this? We said we weren’t going to tell them until we talked about what this is.”

“We did say that but I know what this is. I want to be with you. I want to kiss you, hold your hand, dance with you. I want…I want us to be together. That was the whole point of this trip.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you urge him to explain. “I told Charlie I was ready. Planned this entire getaway to have one last trip before camp but I also didn’t want to leave again without telling you how I feel. What better place to tell someone you love them than at the lake?”

“You love me?”

He grabs your hand, feeling a sudden need for you to anchor him to the ground. “I love everything about you. I’m just sorry it took me this long to tell you the truth.”

“Better late than never. I love you too, a lot.”

He smiles again, a weight lifted off of him that he’d been carrying for quite some time. Justin is so happy that he doesn’t think he’s capable of words right now.

“Come here,” you tell him and he immediately closes any distance between you.

You give him a slow kiss, knowing you have all the time in the world to get to be with him.

Until a knock on the window startles you apart.

“I FREAKING KNEW IT!” Bree yells.

“Finally.” Charlie says shaking his head.

Justin rests his forehead against yours, too far gone to even care about PDA. He’d deal with the consequences later. “Do we have to go back in there and answer all their questions?”

“I think I’m gonna need one more kiss before we go,” you whisper.

Your brand new boyfriend nods in excitement, leaning in immediately. “Yes ma’am.”

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fanfic

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livmightlive · 3 days ago

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LU Soul Eater AU: Four

I must admit, Four has a really edgy 2014 lab AU that I spent too much time thinking about. I did have fun though so here’s his backstory and a trigger warning for unethical human experimentation. I don’t think it’s anything more graphic than what would be in Soul Eater.

A small disclaimer: I’m going mostly off of what I remember from the manga for any sense of canon, I haven’t had the privilege of playing the game yet. 😔

I think I mentioned before, but each of Four’s colors are a different type of knife. Together they’re able form the four sword.

Green is a machete.

I decided on that for him because I think that machetes look really dangerous, showing up in a lot of horror media, and can cause a lot of harm, but that is not what they are meant for. Machetes are meant for clearing bush and foliage away to clear paths through forest or jungle. They can be used to obtain resources. A trailblazer or leader might use this knife. Green grew up with his father who was a captain in the royal guard. Green was being groomed as a weapon for the Princess Dot. Upon manifesting as a machete, a lot of people, especially Green’s own father, were disappointed and believed him to be a poor weapon for a princess looking crude and brutal. Together, Dot and Green proved the masses wrong, with them both proving themselves as leaders before fighters.

Vio is a throwing knife.

Vio is a child runaway. I can’t figure out what would be a good reason for him to run or what his family would be like, but I imagine he learned a dangerous secret. I also like to think that despite Vio being very smart, he can be unreasonable and is able to rationalize himself into making bad choices. He’s a throwing knife because it takes a lot of learning and skill to be able to wield a weapon such as that. It also takes something crazy to throw your weapon away from you and be able to rely on it to return. Vio can be recalled by his meister, but it has to be of his own accord. He can also control his flight to some degree. Up until the events I’ll describe in a minute, he had never been wielded before.

Blue is a trench knife.

In the background of the events during my story, there’s a war raging in the background that’s much more prevalent in Warrior’s story. This has caused a lot of children to be orphaned, Blue included. He grows up in a poorly funded orphanage and gets into a lot of fights growing up. I chose a trench knife for Blue because it is a very brutal weapon, something which I think he can be. It’s also a weapon that when you use, you know that you are aiming to really hurt your opponent and that you have to get really close to do so. There are also two main ways to use a trench knife, the blade, ofc, and the brass knuckles which I think kind of show how Blue thinks outside the box, especially in combat. It’s also a weapon that’s mean to be used when your back is against the wall.

Red is a Switchblade.

Red also grew up in an orphanage also due to the war. He and Blue grew up in the same place but weren’t close with each other. He definitely grew up more of a lover having a high level of empathy. Despite being picked on, maybe bullied a bit, Red is the type of person who never wants to hurt somebody else even in self defense. I chose the switchblade for Red because it kind of conceals its nature most of the time hiding in a sheath. A switchblade is a weapon that has to be used in close quarters, but unlike Blue’s trench knife, the opponent might not even recognize it as a weapon until it’s too late. Switchblades are spring loaded and fast, but by pressing a button, the user has a lot of choice before they use it. I think Red would be able to stop himself from being triggered in his weapon form if he tried hard enough.

All of the four were born in the same year, all being roughly the same age. (Yay this means I can choose their zodiacs!) When they were all 11, each of them were kidnapped in the same winter by a witch called Vaati. Vio was first, being a homeless child he was hungry enough to be lured in by the prospect of working for food and board. This later would be something he feels ashamed of thinking himself more clever than that. Next would be Red who thought he was helping an elderly woman carry her groceries home… into a dark alleyway. Blue would be next, probably just being classically kidnapped after he poked around somewhere shady. Green would be the last, going on a personal mission to investigate the rapid disappearance of kids from the city he lived in.

Vaati is a witch who is trying to make weaker weapons stronger in order to arm the army of the ancient evil (ganon) that he and many other witches are trying to revive. For his first experiment, he wants to fuse several small/young weapons into one big stronger one. He chose the four because they’re young enough to be malleable but old enough to actually be able to turn into their weapons. They also conveniently have a lot in common, age, gender, and weapon type which Vaati thinks will make it easier to fuse them.

Vaati begins a series of experiments that don’t really seem to make sense to the four. He’ll force them all to work together to complete puzzles only to rip them apart for the next few. Vio, who’s been there the longest, plays along well knowing what to expect. Green, who’s been training already for a long time, doesn't struggle too much with physical or mental challenges. Red and Blue however struggle a lot causing Vaati to use crueler and crueler experiments to get them to obey.

Vaati’s struggle with Red and Blue resides in that Blue fights back the most and is actually quite brawny for a tween and Red won’t fight at all refusing to take his weapon form and even if he does, he won’t unsheath. Blue is something Vaati must subdue and break in. Red is something to trigger. He routinely exposes them to extreme temperatures, Blue the cold and Red the heat, and subjects them to frightening simulations. (I’m basing this off the manga with blue being frozen, red in the burning village, the giant poe)

Most confusingly, he makes the four wield each other which is not natural/impossible for weapons to do. Vaati achieves this with the help of magic.

Vaati works using his own son Shadow as an assistant. Shadow is a similar age as the boys and enjoys the power he gets to lord over them. Secretly, he’s really happy to have so many other kids around. That being said. He hasn’t been properly socialized so his idea of trying to play with them is just by mildly tormenting them.

Vio is the first to start befriending Shadow. Like in the manga, he does this with the intention of later betraying him, planning on using him as means to escape. He unexpectedly begins to genuinely like Shadow and starts to experience extreme guilt in thinking about what he’s going to do. Nevertheless, Vio begins to start faking Stockholm syndrome. This is really confusing for the rest of the boys. Blue thinks that Vio is bad person and is actually siding with Vaati. This leads to a fight between them that results in Vio being separated from the rest of the boys. (I didn’t mention it but they’re usually locked in the same room between experiments.) Red believes that Vio actually has Stockholm syndrome and feels really bad for him. Green can see through Vios' plan but just thinks that it’s a really bad idea. He doesn’t say anything though because he doesn’t want to ruin it for him just in case it does work.

Red is the next to befriend Shadow, though it’s unintentional. Despite everything, Red does his best to remain kind, maybe not so much to Vaati, but to Shadow, sure. Red thinks that Shadow is just a brainwashed kid, which he’s kind of right about. Shadow starts to like Red because he’ll go along with any game he wants to play.

Green falls after Red gets more chill with Shadow. The games they play look fun and Green really didn’t have a lot of chances to play growing up. He starts to take a page from Vio’s book, trying to pry information where he can from Shadow. Somehow he feels less bad about this than Vio does.

Blue thinks everyone is going crazy in here so he takes to verbally bullying Shadow whenever he swings by. Shadow, being a weirdo, thinks that it’s a form of banter so he just bullies Blue back. Unexpectedly, and to his own horror, Blue finds it really fun to be able to have a witty back and forth with somebody who can match his level.

Shadow for the first month or two is really his dad kidnapped people his age. It’s so FUN having people to play with! He even has a best friend now in Vio. He doesn’t really think about the implications of his dad hurting his new friends, and his role in that, until they start acting different.

Vio starts having panic attacks (out of nowhere!/s) and can take hours or even days to calm down rendering him unable to even speak. This is the first thing that rattles Shadow. It’s the first time he felt hurt seeing somebody else hurt. His attempts to calm Vio down begin selfishly, wanting him to stop acting weird and to start acting like his best friend again. Eventually it turns into genuine and raw concern. Shadow, for the first time, feels bad because somebody else does. He starts just really wanting Vio to be okay.

His other playmates start breaking down too. Red is too exhausted now to play. He sleeps most of the day away and when he’s awake he’s too shaky and weak to do anything. Blue becomes dissonant, stuck staring at walls. He won’t respond to even the strongest of Shadow’s remarks. Green is caught between caring for the other two. He becomes too busy to try and pry information out of Shadow.

Then a day comes where Vaati gathers each boy and throws them into the middle of a collection of runes drawn on the ground with a combination of their blood. A flash and they’re all rendered into their weapon states, unwillingly. After a few moments there’s another flash and only a single weapon remains. The Four Sword. When the weapon takes its human form back, only one terrified boy stands sharing features of the four that formed it.

Despite Vaati’s satisfaction, Shadow feels that something REALLY wrong just happened, and it did. He later visits “Four. Four is shell shocked, barely able to walk, confused, and really, REALLY scared. He looks at Shadow and begs him to let him out. Shadow obliges.

Picking up the newly formed Four sword, Shadow vanquishes his own father and runs with his new friend Four. Shadow was greatly wounded in the fight, his father cursing him to never stand in sunlight. Four is traumatized and so confused. He decides to go to Green’s father, now technically Four’s father, unsure of where else to go.

The two boys tell the story to Four’s dad and a proper raid is unleashed on Vaati’s lab, leaving out the parts where Shadow was Vaati’s accomplice for most of the time. No body is found. Four’s father tries to defuse him, which just terrifies him. Shadow gets some medical treatment but most people don’t want to treat him, as he was Vaati’s son.

Four’s father, unsure what to do with two traumatized children, dumps them on his father, Four’s grandfather who lives out of town as a blacksmith. There they all heal and after a few years learn to defuse. They’ve all spent so much time together though that they can’t bare to part. They are literally part of each other now. Green’s father decides to give them all knight training and Shadow learns how to wield each of them and Four properly. They all know how to wield each other too but this is uncanny for a lot of people. Weapons wielding weapons…

Shadow goes missing at the end of a dangerous mission. All too soon, Four is called to accompany 8 others on a holy quest. He sets out determined to save the world and his best friend.

And that’s Four 😭 goodness that ended up a lot longer than I expected.

Please, and I’m begging 🙏🙏🙏, let me know what you think, your own headcanons, critiques, questions, ANYTHING. And who you’d like to see next!

Thank you 💕

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu chain #lu four #lu shadow #lu red #lu blue #lu green #lu vio #lu colors #green link #blue link #red link #violet link #shadow link #four swords #four swords manga #soul eater au

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granny-griffin · 3 days ago

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Okay so! I saw a post earlier where OP was saying they couldn’t enjoy bnha because the hero students didn’t “meddle when they didn’t need to” in early canon when Bakugou was bullying Midoriya at UA, even though that’s what heroes are supposed to do. I’m making my own post so I don’t bother them, but I gotta say, I found it genuinely intriguing. Like I love bnha, but I think they were on to something, so I kept considering it.

And also, after my liveblog the other day, I was surprised that I hadn’t realized Iida and Uraraka definitely recognized Bakugou’s bullying on my first watch. And one of my friends messaged me to say that it made sense I hadn’t noticed, since those two didn’t do much about it. So then I started thinking about this same thing more.

Anyway I think I finally figured it out. The standard of hero society that the previous generation was working under was that civilians were the only category of people that needed saving. Midoriya, a hero student with a powerful quirk, doesn’t fit into that category.

And even though Uraraka and Iida eventually go beyond this mindset, the person who taught them to do that was Midoriya. At the beginning of the story, they aren’t saving radically because they haven’t learned that from him yet.

Think about the timeline—Iida isn’t meddling with Bakugou’s bullying in Deku vs Kacchan #1 because he won’t even hear the “the essence of being a hero is meddling when you don’t need to” line until the end of the next season, when he goes after Stain. He’s only convinced to try and rescue Bakugou because he wants to keep his friends Midoriya and Todoroki out of trouble, not because he feels personally responsible to save Bakugou. Uraraka doesn’t even go on the Bakugou rescue mission. She starts wondering who saves heroes when they’re in trouble of her own volition, but this thought doesn’t occur to her until season five, after her experience in her internship.

And they do eventually get it! By season six, when Midoriya runs off and starts running himself into the ground, Uraraka and Iida show up to save him! But the thing is, all that time that they were changing, Bakugou was changing too. By the time they internalized Midoriya’s approach to saving enough to put it into practice, Bakugou wasn’t the one he needed saving from anymore.

But anyway, I’m now facinated by this evidence of character growth that I hadn’t noticed before.

#bnha #mha #bnha meta #mha meta #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #iida tenya

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sarbear94 · 2 days ago

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Because Evan-

(It’s a long one…sorry not sorry 😘)

Okay…. I’ve been rewatching some old Buddie scenes because of the potential of Eddie moving back to El Paso and…. excuse my language but…. What the fuck?

It’s like the writers are new or don’t know what to do with Eddie anymore. Or like someway, somehow the episodes are out of order.

In THAT scene, Buck asks “he has grandparents, family” and Eddie reply’s “After Shannon left, they tried to guilt me into giving Christopher to them. It wasn’t what I wanted then, it’s not what I want now.” They then both agreed that no one would fight harder for Chris than Buck.

So WHY THE FUCK haven’t either of them gotten him back yet??

Eddie started season 7 with Marisol and Chris and everyone’s fine. Then Chris is dating multiple girls (Eddie is baffled and doesn’t know how to handle it so he asks Buck for help) and said it has to do with his mom to Buck and we get that EMOTIONAL shot of Eddie devastated after hearing this. Then proceeds to give him a letter to bring about closure for him. Eddie seemed to already have closure or at least repressed it.

Then Eddie meets Kim…. And the Eddie we have loved for 6 seasons is IMMEDIATELY GONE. He does the exact same thing that he told Buck about Christopher was not okay And needed to be fixed (he was BEGGING Buck for help).

Like, my dude, how did you think this was gonna go? You kept everyone in the dark. Your son, your best friend, your GIRLFRIEND and even Kim! What was his end goal? It doesn’t make any sense.

Like I understand that if Gavin wasn’t gonna be around next season, and you need to write him off but have him potentially come back, there were several ways you could have done that but still kept true to the characters. Have Chris go to a boarding school. Or a school trip. Or literally ANYTHING ELSE! Then season 8, keep the Kim storyline, but Chris is already gone and doesn’t witness it. Cause now that whole confession thing with Kim pretending to be Shannon and actually get closure was pointless. If they’d done that with Chris gone, he’d have the closure. Work on the PTSD crawling back up in an empty house, keep the Priest and finding Joy and then keep that for a bit and then heal.

That was a whole side tangent really for the main point I was trying to make, but why does Eddie- lose Chris, grow a mustache, grieve for not having his son, have an episode where a Priest says “let yourself have Joy,” then take it away in the next couple of episodes by saying “I’m thinking of moving to Texas” based on the words of a psycho actor??

Chris is a TEENAGER! Hell- he might still be a preteen, grow the fuck up and go parent your son. You’ve put your foot down before, why is this any different?? After a few weeks, I would have been like “nope, we’re done with this. I get I fucked up, but I’m still your dad so we are gonna talk about this and figure out some common ground.” I understand feeling guilty and not wanting to push him even farther away but you’re not even trying! Phone calls don’t show “I want you here with me,” it says “I’m okay with you being gone.”

You’re thinking moving to El Paso is a great idea… but it’s not. Your parents suck. You know this. YOU MOVED HALF WAY ACROSS THE US TO GET AWAY FROM THEM FOR A REASON! I get you patched things up slightly, but not enough.

ALSO! Why wasn’t Buck an option?!? Because of Tommy? I get because Gavin being out of the show(temporarily?) would have made that impossible but why wasn’t it even mentioned? I mean, He’s run to him before, he’s called him when Eddie had his breakdown and Chris didn’t know what to do. But like THEY HAD THE WILL, why wasn’t it even a factor in this. At the time, it felt like, at least to Chris, that Eddie was incapable of taking care of him, which means that Chris should go to Buck. Not his grandparents.

I just don’t understand what they are doing with these two. E and C. Bucks got his bisexual journey(relationship with Tommy). Bobby has multiple storylines. The Hans had the Mara and new baby storylines. Hen and Karen had the Ortiz/Mara and Denny/Halloween storylines. Athena has literally any storyline involving cops. And all those storylines make sense for each character. Eddie’s and Chris’s doesn’t. They keep pushing Eddie to be sad then happy then making stupid decisions. DEVELOP YOUR FUCKING CHARACTER! You’ve been dropping the ball since at least the network switch. Which I find super funny because yes, he does the emotional scenes super amazing but now it seems like his character is more open. He’s making more funny faces, he’s got the loose hair, he makes comedic jokes. But he’s almost(so close) to reminding me of Buck 1.0.. but it doesn’t fit with the storyline at all. At least to me…

Like does anyone agree with any of this? Am I just seeing things? Did the writers get told Gavin was leaving too late and made this story on the fly and rolled with it? Does Ryan want out of the show and they are keeping it under wraps? Like WHAT IS HAPPENING? Make it make sense!

Ps. I did not proofread this before posting so if something doesn’t make sense, let me know. I was just trying to get down all my thoughts on this. Currently me vvv

#911 abc #buddie #evan buckley #christopher diaz #eddie diaz #because evan #911 spoilers #911 writers #weewoo show #help my sanity #character development

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sparklingcid3r · 3 days ago

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@redfielddoesthings this one’s for u babygorl bc i’ve had a dallypop roadtrip fic on my mind and i can’t write it yet bc finals are actually beating my ass atm so i’m putting my ideas in here until i can buckle down and finesse the writer’s block

- they’re headed to the bronx, where dally grew up. it’s approx 20 hours by car, so they drive to indianapolis first, break for the night, then drive 11 hours to the bronx w a bunch of pit stops in between

- first pit stop is at a gas station where soda takes the lead while dally tries to hide the fact that he’s never pumped gas before in his life

- he grew up in nyc that boy hasn’t even SEEN a real gas station until tulsa

- they get stuck in standstill traffic at some point so they get out and start praying to deities they don’t even believe in to get it moving again. they’re losing their minds. dally’s banging his head against the horn while soda’s going up to ppl’s windows and chatting with them. dally wants a gun

- they get back in the car and are hanging out, until soda notices something laying on the woods’ edge. since they aren’t going anywhere and the car is in the right lane, he gets out and runs over to it

- unfortunately traffic has started moving the second he’s out and dally has to scramble over to the driver side to start moving. in the side mirror dally sees soda sprinting along the shoulder holding a filthy stuffed bear that makes idle appearances for the rest of the fic. soda reaches the car before dally can hit 20 mph and he practically has to dive into the backseat

- soda vs the mississippi river

- once they reach indianapolis dally’s like “so we can either check into a motel or get fucking litttt”

- immediate cut to soda putting music on a jukebox and dally ordering them drinks

- dally gets plastered and insists on laying down in the truck bed on the drive to the motel. soda hits a speed bump as hard as he can and dally nearly gets launched out the back

- they’re on the road again but the poor truck’s been through it and it starts making some funky sounds until soda decides to pull over because he doesn’t like that noise. he’s no steve randle but he finds out they need to go to a repair shop and get a new part because the one they got now is literally gonna fall off

- so they’re stranded on the side of the highway

- soda decides to climb up on top of the truck because the weather’s real nice up there, and dally follows. he tries putting his thumb out but soda stops him, says he wants to sit and watch for a while. it’s pretty trippy, being so close to cars going 70 down the freeway. when a semi approaches, soda makes a right angle with his arm and pretends to pull a horn until the semi honks at them.

- that’s where a more heartfelt, raw conversation would happen amid the humor

- eventually they get their truck to a repair shop and get a new part! but not before they have like four hours to kill doing literally nothing but like mocking small children and playing i spy

- while they’re at it they also decide to call the house to check in on darry and pony and whoever else happens to be at the curtis residence at the moment

- and they’re back on the road!

- not thirty minutes later they hit a bird and have to pull over again because soda’s crying so hard he can’t drive

- they were playing music on the radio when that happened. the radio is off when dally pulls back onto the highway

- “it had a family.” “yeah, well.” “it had a name.” “alr i promise you it did not.”

- i haven’t thought about it yet but they pass at least one billboard that convinces them to stop and take a look at like the worlds largest rubber band ball or smth dumb like that

- dally hits a jersey slide so they don’t miss their exit and nearly kills a family of four in the process

- getting to see the new york skyline for the first time as they cross the bridge and it would be one of those emotional moments for dally who never thought he’d willingly go back. something about making new memories in the place where bad ones happened to take back your right to love that place again

- at the end soda surprises him with tickets to a yankee game

a lot of this works in my head because i’m imagining it like a sitcom lmfao who knows if i can translate it onto the page without rage quitting

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders sodapop #sodapop curtis #the outsiders dally #dallas winston #sodapop x dally #dallypop

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piqued-curiosity · 2 years ago

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Very upset that I missed the anti-choice protestors at school today. I want to yell at them :)

#they use pictures of ‘abortion victims’ which is downright traumatising for some women #all my school does it put up ‘graphic content ahead’ signs that don’t tell you what the content is or where exactly it is #haven’t run into them yet but I want to #the most I saw was a pamphlet inside #after looking at their website I feel sick #there’s a whole activist group for forced birth #and it’s terrifying #my post

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sunsetsandsunshine · 4 months ago

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Hey!! For your next fic could you do Leo and Mikey angst

It came be 2012, MM or rise

~ 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ~

💙🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @tmntalways 💙🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚒, 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍!!! 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚘 ☹️💔…𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 💖💕💘💞🩷!!! 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 😅👍🏾! 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍— 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 🫠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟸𝟾𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍…𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍, 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 '𝚞𝚗'. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕? 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz

@savemeafruitjuice @rice-cake-teen10 @mistyandsnow

@skyloladoodles @itzsana-kiddingmenow @titters-and-tingles

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝚋𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!!

𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝙳𝙷𝙳 𝚊𝚗𝚍/𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ☺️💞💗💓💕

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Mikey couldn’t do anything right now. Like…anything.

Well…perhaps he was being a bit too dramatic. He was breathing. And he was fidgeting with his squishy cube. So saying he wasn’t doing 'anything' wasn’t entirely true.

Right now he just…couldn’t do anything…productive.

For example, the box turtle tried making his favorite dishes and deserts! But that endeavor just ended up being a huge mess in the kitchen…and leaving the youngest turtle with a bunch of unappetizing food.

Which he fed all to Raph by the way.

Some would call that choice of action cruel but Mikey would just call it 'using his resources'.

Besides, it’s not like the eldest minded at all. He said, and I quote: 'It has a nice…crunchy feeling to it. Did you put some of Don’s inventions in this?'

Which honestly got a couple of chuckles out of the smallest turtle teen of the bunch.

Then, Mikey tried skateboarding! But for once in all his 14 years of living…it was just utterly boring.

And after all of that nonsense, Mikey then finally tried reading a comic…but he was too unfocused to even get to the second page…

But what was really new? Mikey could never focus on jackshit even if said jackshit hit him right in the shell.

His brothers and sister would always have to remind him to stay focused or 'not do this' or 'not do that'.

For example, a couple days ago Donnie had to kindly remind the box turtle (well…as kindly as Donnie could be anyway…) to brush his teeth.

To. Brush. His. Fucking. Teeth.

And honestly? Having to be reminded to do that was really embarrassing. And the orange banded teen knew his brother didn’t mean to humiliate him internally…but…yeah.

And it’s not like the softshell was wrong either! The youngest turtle just couldn’t freaking accept that he himself couldn’t do such a simple task in the morning.

But literally every task he completely fails to do is just utterly simple ones!

Like cleaning his room or not forgetting things or even keeping track of time!

…And the sad part about all of it was Mikey just honestly could not understand how his family haven’t gotten sick of his annoying tendencies…

And let’s be for real here…that was basically all of his tendencies.

The box turtle groaned loudly in his room, slamming his whole body on his bed as he screamed into his pillow.

There had to be something he could do instead of just wallowing in his own self pity…

And one of those options could not consist of bothering his family with his random bad mood. They had to put up with him 24/7…the least he could do was give them some space.

The youngest then glanced at his drawing notebook hopefully…

…One little sketch of something random wouldn’t hurt, right?

The amber eyed teen reached for his notebook, grabbing a pen from his drawer as he started to sketch his desk because why the absolute fuck not? Based on the objects he’s drawn in the past…sketching a simple desk should and will be easy, right? Right.

That was until the orange banded teen’s pencil tip broke. But it was fine! He could just re-sharpen it, right? Right.

That was until the youngest realized he had absolutely no clue where his sharpener was due to the fact his room looked like a pig stie. And there was no way he was looking for it in…that whole situation.

…The situation he created in the first place.

Michelangelo layed on his bed with his face staring at the ceiling in frustration, he ran his fingernails along his arms, not making really deep cuts with them but going deep enough for it to hurt a bit.

Like a reasonable turtle would, Mikey should probably get one of his stress toys…or better yet, another pencil!

But let’s be for real here…he’d most likely find a way to fuck that up too.

Suddenly, there was a small, quiet knock on Mikey’s door but…in all honesty? He just wanted to crawl into his shell and sob for the next hour and a half. Letting out a niiiiice and quick 'come in' would take way too much energy.

The box turtle let out a soft grunt, letting whoever was on the other side know it was a-okay to come in.

Abruptly, Leo peeked in the room, a wide smile plastered on his face as he closed the door, “Damn, Mikester…it looks like every single natural disaster went through your room…”

“I’m cleaning it.” The youngest grumbled to his brother.

“Really? You sure about that, little bro? Because if my memory serves me correct (which it in-fact does), you said that last week. And the week before that…and the week before—“

“I SAID I’M FUCKING CLEANING IT!!!” The orange banded turtle snapped, sitting up on the bed to glare at his immediate older brother before slowly realizing what he just did.

The youngest’s heart dropped as he looked away from his brother. The orange banded mutant’s eyed widened as silent and small tears ran down his face. He covered his mouth as his other hand turned to a fist, his nails unforgivingly digging into his palm.

“I-I’m sorry…I’m s-sorry…I-I’m so s-sorry…!” He started, rocking himself back and forth before stopping as he was met with a warm embrace. Leonardo hugged him gently but firmly, rubbing the other’s shell in a comforting hold. “Woah woah…! Bud, you have nothing to apologize for…” The slightly older teen said as he rested his chin on the top of his baby brother’s head.

“L-Like h-hell I don’t. I-I just screamed a-at y-you for no reason…” Michelangelo wobbly said. “You were just trying to lighten the mood but I just had to make everything harder like I-I always do…!”

“Mikey—”

“I-I always do this. I-I’m so f-fucking s-sorry Leo…”

“Mikester…I-I appreciate the apology but it seriously isn’t necessary—”

“You’re probably so sick of me and so angry at me. I-I’m sorry I just—”

“Mikey!” Leo gently yelled to get the other’s attention, squeezing the smaller turtle’s hands as he stared straight at him with pleading eyes. “Do I look mad?”

“…N-No.”

“Do I sound mad?”

“…No.”

The second youngest sadly smiled, “So what are you apologizing for, hm?”

“…I-I…dunno…I-I just…I just felt I needed to apologize…” The box turtle mumbled as he looked at his hands. The blue banded turtle sighed, slowly getting out of the hug so him and his little brother faced each other. The slider rubbed the other turtle’s palm with his thumb comfortingly, “…Do you wanna talk about it, baby bro?”

The leader in blue was just met with silence…which he could honestly work with.

“Angelo…you know you can tell me…anything, right? Like…anything. Although, it doesn’t have to be me you talk to about it. It could be Raph or Don or April or even Dad or Draxum! I just…don’t want you sitting here and bottling up the way you feel…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“You’re always there when we need you, Angel. Whether it’s to vent or to just ramble about shit, you’re just…always there. We don’t tell you this enough but we appreciate you always being someone we can lean on…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“But…you do know you can lean on us too, right? Comfort goes both ways and I can see you’re hurting, buddy. So please…if you need to talk to me…I’m right here.”

Mikey sniffled, squeezing Leo’s hand, “I-I d-dunno. Today is just…weird. This whole week has just been…weird.” Leo nodded, giving his brother his full undivided attention, “How so?”

“I just…haven’t been able to do anything…” The smaller teen admitted.

“What do you mean?” The taller teen inquired.

“I haven’t been able to do…anything. Like, I can’t draw, cook or even skateboard! Me!!! Not being able to skateboard— isn’t that crazy?!” The amber eyed turtle laughed bitterly.

“And it’s not like I can’t do it. I’m perfectly freaking capable of doing it in the right amount of time I want but my brain just. won’t. let. me!”

“I keep procrastinating and not doing the stuff I want to do and I have no idea why! I’m tired of just putting things off and being this way! I want to do things without having to ask you guys for help or to remind me or to relate it with a hyperfixation that I have!” Mikey hiccuped, a new wave of tears rolling down his face as his hands shook.

The amber eyed teen sniffled, refusing to look at his immediate older brother at all right now because…holy shit he just overshared a whole lot…

Like…a whoooooooooole freaking lot.

“…That sounds like you.” Leonardo shrugged.

In a state of just shock and confusion, the box turtle pulled his hands away from his brother, looking up at him as lime green eyes met amber ones. “I…what…?” Michelangelo murmured.

“I said that sounds like you.” Leo said again casually as Mikey glared at him, “Yeah. I heard what you said but that isn’t helpful.”

“I’m just being honest with you, Mikester.” Leo said, “Just…let me explain, okay?”

“…You have five minutes before I kick you out of my room.”

“Deal.” The lime green eyed mutant commented, “You can’t draw, cook or skateboard right now. You’re procrastinating and not doing the stuff you want to do in the time you planned…is that correct?”

Michelangelo sent deathly daggers to his brother— which the other wasn’t phased by at all. This time was probably the best time to crawl in his own shell and just sob his eyes out because what kind of dumbass question was his dumbass brother asking him?!

“…Yes.” The orange banded teen mumbled.

“And…why are those bad things?”

“WHY?!” The box turtle huffed out a laugh of annoyance, “Pfft— you’re asking me why. Maybe it’s because it’s annoying?! Maybe because it’s frustrating to deal with and I don’t want to burden you guys with my problems?! Maybe because I don’t want to fucking feel or be this way?!” The youngest shouted, breathing heavily as he finished his rant.

The box turtle looked away again, silently cursing at himself for getting annoyed so easily. “Mikey.” Leo started again, “Your being too hard on yourself, okay? No one is expecting you to be at your 100% all the time.”

“What you just described to me; you being able to not focus or you getting bored easily or procrastinating with stuff is…literally you. You’re just being you.” The slider explained as he held his baby brother’s hand in his. “And I get it. It’s hard to deal with it sometimes and it’s going to be hella frustrating. Like…super borderline frustrating. But you can’t shun them away and just…try to ignore them, bubs…”

“Let’s take moi for example. I’m impulsive, I talk loud and lose things daily. Those three things don’t make up my whole personality but it would be super weird and off-putting if I just…didn’t do or have those three things, right?”

The youngest giggled wetly, “Yeah…it would. A-And by the way, I’m still waiting for you to find that glittery pen kit I gave you…”

Leonardo groaned loudly and dramatically, causing the other teen to giggle louder, “I’m looking for it, okay?! It’s in my room…somewhere.” The taller mutant mused, “But anyways…back to you. You procrastinate, you relate things to your hyperfixations and you can’t do some of your favorite tasks from time to time…those are some traits that make up you, is it not?”

Mikey sniffled, rolling his eyes playfully due to the fact he knew damn well where this was going, “Yeah…”

Leo smiled softly, seeing his younger brother was starting to get his point, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I know sometimes it’s hard to deal with the things you described but you have us for that.” He said as his smile turned to a grin.

“You can come to me— to us— anytime. We love you for who you are…your flaws and all and we just…I-I need you to know that we love you so so much—!” The slider was cut off by a sudden abrupt embrace from the box turtle. The orange banded teen sobbed into the other’s shoulder, clutching the taller turtle like a lifeline.

“T-Thank you…” The box turtle wobbly said through tears.

“Of course, Angel.” Leo said as he hugged his baby brother back, “I love you.” He said as he kissed the other teen on the head.

“I-I l-love you too…”

“Tell your thoughts to shut up.” Leo said as he lightly poked Mikey in the forehead numerous times. The two were sitting on the box turtle’s bed just simply…relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Michelangelo was sitting in between his older brother’s legs as he had his shell to his brother’s plastron.

Leonardo hugged his brother protectively, resting his chin on the top of the box turtle’s head. “What do you mean?” The youngest giggled out. “I can hear your thoughts, man. You’re not bothering me or disturbing me in any way, shape or form, alright…?”

The amber eyed turtle nodded, squeezing Leo’s hand, “Y-Yeah…I know...”

“I’m choosing to be here because I love you. I don’t feel obligated to be here, okay? You’re not annoying and you, neither your problems are a burden…okay?” The slider said reassuringly, “It’s okay to ask us for help…and we don’t mind reminding you to do things…okay?”

“You’ve said ‘okay’ like, fifty times…”

“Mikey.”

“Mhm…yeah yeah…I gotcha…”

The elder looked at his brother skeptically, resting his chin on his little brother’s shoulder so they made solid eye contact, “I want you to say it.”

“…Say what exactly?”

“I want you to say that you are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.”

“You are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” Michelangelo grinned smugly. Leonardo glared at the youngest’s interpretation to his statement, “Mikey, you know exactly what I meant.”

“I said what you wanted me to say…so…” The amber eyed teen trailed off.

“Michelangelo.” The slider said in a warning tone as he poked the other’s side. The box turtle squeaked at the unexpected touch, trying to stop his immediate older brother from doing it again but his brother had a strong but gentle grip on him…

Then the smallest turtle came to recognition that he was stuck in a potential tickle hug with no way out…

…How wonderful.

“L-Leeheeo…doohoo nahat.” The orange banded mutant warned through his giggles, said warning not seeming too threatening due to the fact he was already laughing up a storm. The leader in blue raised a brow, poking the other’s side repeatedly, “I just want you to repeat what I said…in the first person.” The taller teen specified.

The smaller turtle squirmed in the hug, small frantic giggles pouring out of his mouth. This…really wasn’t how he was expecting his day to go. Just about an hour ago, he was wallowing in sadness about the stuff he hated about himself, to talking about it with his brother, to now getting tickled by his brother.

…So could he really complain about how things turned out?

…Yes. Yes, he absolutely could.

“Leeheeon! Plehease dohon’t!” The youngest squealed as one of his brother’s hands hovered over his stomach. Mikey held onto the other’s wrists, trying to stop his elder brother from tickling him but his small attempts ending up to be all for nothing as Leo effortlessly tickled his stomach with one hand.

“LEEHEEHAHAHA!!” Michelangelo laughed wholeheartedly, swatting at his brother’s arms. The lime green eyed turtle cooed at the gesture, now using both of his hands to attack the youngest’s plastron, “D'aww…look at you giggling your head off~! You’re my adorable little bundle of amazingness, aren’t you~?”

The smaller teen shook his head, a faint blush appearing on his face, “STAHA— squeal N-NAHAHA!”

“What~? What was that?” The blue banded mutant asked as he kneaded the box turtle’s hips. “GYAHAH— squeal SHIHIHIT! COHOME OHAHAN!!!” The amber eyed turtle cried frantically as he kicked his legs on the mattress slightly.

The youngest squealed with laughter, curling in on himself as he slumped in his big brother’s hold. Leonardo just sighed fondly at the action, wrapping the other in another hug as he raspberried his neck. “LEEHEEHEE!! PLAHAH— squeak NAHAHAT THEHERE squeak PLEHEASE PLEHEASE— squeak!!!”

“Not there~?” The elder lightly mocked, “What about…here~?” He mused as he used his hands to scribble all over the younger turtle’s ribs. Mikey cackled, shaking his head to try and at least subside the tickly feelings.

“NAHAHA— squeal AHAHAHA!! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE EHE— squeal EHEHEITHER!!! LEEHEEO!!” The orange banded turtle squeaked as Leo stopped for a second, “I’ve tried sooooo many spots, buddy! How many times are you gonna say not there, hm?”

Mikey genuinely squawked louder than a firefighter siren, squirming so much it looked like he was actually being electrocuted. “PLEHEHAHA LEEHEEO NAHAHAT THEHEHE RIHIHIBS!!!” He cackled.

“Not the riiiibs~? Why~? Is it because it’s your tickle spot~? Your tickletickletickle spot~? Because you’re ticklish~?” Leonardo asked as he lightly nibbled the crook of Mikey’s neck.

Michelangelo screamed in laughter, scrunching up his shoulders as he dug his heels on the bed, a couple of his plushies sadly falling on the floor (R.I.P. man…) “EEEHEEHEEP!!! S-STAHAP BEEHEEING MEEHEAN!” Mikey said as he thrashed on the bed.

The slider said nothing, his hands sneaking up to the box turtle’s underarms. “AAAAHAHAHA! OHO NOHOHO— squeak SHIT! SHIHIHAHAT!”

Happy tears slowly begin to appear in the smallest teen’s eyes, he weakly hit Leo’s arms as a last attempt to be set free, “LEHEHEMME squeal GOHOHOHO!”

“Ohonly if you sahay it, bubs.”

“IHIHI— SQUEAK!! LEEHEEHEEON!!!”

“Yeeeees, baby brother~?” The elder dragged out as he kneaded the other’s hips.

“IHI’LL SAHAY IHIHAT I-IHIHI’LL SAHAHAY IHIT!!” The amber eyed teen squealed.

“And you promise not to be a sassy little shit about it~?” The older teen asked.

“SQUEAK YEHAHAHA— SQUEAK YEHES YEHES I-I PROHOHOMISE!”

Leo stopped tickling his little brother, hugging him protectively as the youngest caught his breath slowly but surely. “W-Wahait…whahat squeak wahas ihihat yohou eeheeven wahanted me squeak to sahay again?”

The taller turtle pondered for a bit, thinking to himself before loudly groaning, “That’s…a good damn question. I don’t really remember exactly what I wanted you to say in the first place…” The lime green eyed turtle sighed, “Forgetfulness at its finest...”

The red eared slider adjusted himself, making sure the other was comfortable before starting to speak again, “Well…based on what we talked about…could you maybe just…y'know…” Leo gestured with his hands before groaning, “Do you get what I’m trying to say, man?”

“…I thihink I have ahan idea…” Mikey giggled as he fiddled with his hands, “I shouldn’t beat myself up so much because of some of my traits or quirks. And I’m allowed to feel frustrated and/or upset because things don’t go my way because of them. But…I shouldn’t allow those things to put me down...”

Michelangelo smiled softly, rubbing his palm with his thumb, “They don’t define me as a person but they make me a person. I don’t need to be at my best 100% and I’m allowed to have bad days. And if things get too overwhelming or difficult I can just go to you guys.”

Mikey hugged himself, letting out a small laugh as his happy tears welled up in his eyes, “I’m just…being me. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leonardo teared up at his brother’s words, hugging him tighter than he ever had before and burying his face at the back of the youngest’s head.

“Never forget that, Miguelito…never forget that.”

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

#Rottmnt tickle #Rottmnt tickle fic #Rottmnt tickle fanfiction #Lee!Mikey #Ler!Leo #MWYAHSHSHHSAN #This is actually so silly I love this 💞💗💗#I hope you guys enjoyed the angst 🤪#ADHDERS AND PPL WITH ADHD TENDENCIES UNITE 🙌🏾💕🩷💓💘💝💗‼️‼️‼️#Adhd is a bitch 🖤…#Leo can be an asshole at times but he doesn’t mean to I swear 😭💔#My boy just copes with jokes but he has a hard time understanding that not EVERYONE copes like that #So when Mikey snapped at him and started breaking down he was like: “😁 -> 😄 -> 😀 -> 😐 -> 🫢”#I HATTTEEE forgetting to brush my teeth 😟…it’s so damn nasty man #AND NOT BEING ABLE TO DRAW LIKE YOU USED TO⁉️⁉️⁉️ GRAUGHHHH REAL SHIT #I care about these two sm omfg #I need more content with these tWO LOOK AT THEM 🥹💙🧡!!!#“Tell ur thoughts to shut up 😒” msndhjsjss peak sibling comment #Also I changed my writing style a TEEEEENSY weensy bit if you haven’t guessed #For a while…I haven’t like the **’s I put at the noises that characters made when they laughed :/#Soooo I tried just doing it in italics and AHHUUGHFHS 😖💖💗💘💝🩷💓💞💕#IT LOOKS SM BETTER #I just wanted the laughing to seem more natural #Your just being you guys 🫶🏾#DON’T BE SO HARD ON YOURSELF PLEASEEEE #Eat some snacks!!! Drink some water/juice!!! Exercise!!!#Your allowed to feel the way you do so just take it easy ☺️👍🏾#I’M RUNNING OUTTA TAGS BUT IF ANYONE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THE BEHIND THE STAGE WORKS ON HOW I MADE THIS I CAN ALWAYS YAP TO YOU ABT IT 😈🤌🏾#I don’t think I implied this very well but Leo feels the same way Mikey feels…so that’s why he was so PERSISTENT on making sure Mikey’s alr #But Leo take his own advice challenge GO 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️ Maybe a pt. 2 🫢??? Idk yet lolololololol

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