#i think this may be the first time i have ever had a dream involving keiji in any way

[dailykeiji]

i just had a really weird dream where my brain invented a fake yttd character that keiji had beef with for some reason. thanks brain??

[wlw-imagines]

old bruises - JJ x Reader (Criminal Minds)

requested: Reader is Derek's best friend from when he was a little kid (from Chicago) and she joins his team, her and JJ get closer and reader is kidnapped and tortured by an unsub and the team is sent a live fed of said torture and JJ loses it(?) The team find r, barely clinging to life. (JJ being there when r wakes in the hospital.) - anon

a/n: an almost 8k whopper - i got carried away 

cw: torture-ish (verbal rather than physical !)

summary: Y/N, Derek Morgan’s childhood best friend from Chicago, is a new recruit of the BAU. She’s smart, intuitive, and tough - shaped by the same streets that made Morgan who he is. From the beginning, JJ and Y/N gravitate toward each other. The tension builds between them over weeks. Then everything falls apart.

Part of the May Prompts: Day One, an old bruise

It was a good day when you transferred to the BAU. It had been what you were dreaming of for a very long time - ever since Derek had come home with stories of his new co-workers, of the work he did, of the lives he saved (and occasionally, on darker nights where he needed you the most, he talked about the lives they lost too).

You could still remember how Derek had paraded you around the BAU like a proud older brother, hand on your shoulder, introducing you to everyone. The only times he’d let you out of his sight were to take a phone call from your old boss - and to pee.

Now, he stood planted in the middle of the bullpen like your personal bodyguard, arms crossed, jaw set with protective pride. He wasn’t playing around.

“Any of you hurt her,” Derek said, eyes narrowing on his teammates, specifically Emily Prentiss, “and I will bury you. Smiling.”

Emily raised a perfectly arched brow and slowly lifted both hands in mock surrender, “Jeez, okay,” she muttered. “To be fair, I don’t think it’s me you have to worry about.”

Derek frowned, brow furrowing at her cryptic tone. “What-?”

JJ cut in quickly, her voice a little too casual, trying to wedge in a question before you returned. Something had been gnawing at her all morning, and even though she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer, she found herself needing it.

“Have you two…” JJ paused, trying to sound offhand but failing entirely. “Ever… y’know, been-”

“God, no,” Derek scoffed immediately, shaking his head with a grin. His focus shifted to JJ, though he was still casting protective glances in Emily’s direction, just in case. “She’s like my little sister. We go way back. First grade. It started with a shared cookie… and ended with her trying to fight all the bullies.”

JJ’s shoulders eased, just slightly. The tension she didn’t know she was holding loosened at the edges.

Emily, ever observant, filed the entire exchange away with an amused smile, eyes flicking between JJ and the bullpen entrance.

Just as JJ’s lips started to tug into something softer, you strolled back in, still tucking your phone into your back pocket. “Is he telling you all about my heroic youth?” you grinned, swinging an arm around Derek’s broad back. It didn’t quite reach over his shoulder, but he leaned down to help you make it work.

“She’s a fighter,” Derek said fondly, ruffling your hair. “Been saving people since she was seven.”

“Oh, there must be some stories,” JJ said, eyes lighting up in a way she tried to pass off as casual curiosity.

“That particular time involved a Scooby-Doo action figure,” Derek said, voice lowering like he was about to tell a campfire tale, “and three marbles.”

You opened your mouth to elaborate, but Hotch’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and direct from across the room. “We’ve got a case.”

You sighed, mock-dramatic. “Fine. Guess you guys’ll have to wait to see my heroics in action.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Less Scooby-Doo action figures in this line of work than you’d think…”

You grinned, falling into step beside JJ as the team gathered.

“Oh yeah?” you tossed back over your shoulder. “What about marbles?”

 JJ just smiled, tight-lipped, a little brighter than before.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

You don’t notice JJ standing there at first - you were too hunched over a printout, squinting at a string of timestamps that no longer make any damn sense. The uncapped highlighter in your hand hovers mid-air, unmoving for at least ten minutes.

“You’re going to burn a hole through that page.”

The voice startles you. You jump slightly and glance up, eyes tired and blinking into focus. JJ’s standing across your desk, arms folded, watching you with a soft, amused expression.

“Sorry,” you mumble, giving her a sheepish smile. “Didn’t hear you come over.”

“That’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?” she replies, tilting her head. “You didn’t hear anything. Not even your stomach growling.”

You blink, then glance at the clock. Realize you haven’t eaten since... what, 6 a.m.? Maybe not even then.

JJ steps closer, resting her hand lightly on the desk’s edge. “Come on. Lunch. My treat.”

You wave her off, already turning back to the file. “I’m good. I just want to figure out-”

“You’ll figure it out faster with food in you.” Her voice is gentle, but there’s a steel edge tucked into it. “Don’t argue. I can be stubborn too.”

There’s something flickering behind her eyes, humour, maybe. Or something quieter. Concern, soft and steady. You study her for a moment, then sigh, letting your pen clatter onto the desk. “Fine. But only because I’m pretty sure I forgot how to read.”

The café down the street is quiet this time of day. Warm enough outside to justify a little table by the window. JJ orders a salad and tea. You order grilled cheese and soup, and your body practically sighs with relief when the food arrives.

“You always push yourself this hard?” she asks, stabbing her fork through several layers of lettuce.

“Comes with the territory,” you answer, lifting your spoon. “Chicago trains you early.”

JJ hums in response. “So does Quantico. You’re allowed to take a breath, you know.”

You glance at her over the rim of your mug. “And you’re always this nice?”

She shrugs, smiling faintly. The kind of smile that feels like it’s just for you. “Only with the people I like.”

The air shifts between you. Not awkward, but quieter, more aware. You look down at your bowl, then back at her, slower this time.

“You don’t have to keep checking in on me,” you say, softly. “I can handle myself.”

“I know.” JJ’s gaze holds yours. Steady. Sure. “But maybe I just wanted to have lunch with you.”

That stuns you more than you expect. You cover it with a sip of water, hiding the way your throat tightens slightly.

The two of you don’t talk about work again. Not until you’re almost back at the BAU, at least. But JJ notices your steps are just a little lighter. And you notice she walks a little slower than usual, like she doesn’t mind dragging the moment out just a bit longer.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

A case had just finished. You’re both exhausted. You are very aware that both of your suits are wrinkled, you have bags under your eyes. The elevator lurches slightly and JJ sways. You steady her with a light hand at her elbow, bringing your bodies closer togther under the guise of helping.

JJ doesn’t step away. Your bodies remain close. Not touching - but almost. Enough to feel the heat between you.

JJ clears her throat and lets a small smile pull at her lips, “Thanks.” 

“Always.” you reply simply, connecting your gaze with JJ’s, a genuine look passing between you.

Your vaguely aware of the elevator ding as the doors drag open to your floor. Neither of you move for a second. You don’t want to step out and break this fragile thing between the two of you.

Eventually you do.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

You’re sitting side by side, the silence of late hours settling soft around the bullpen. JJ’s got a stack of paperwork in her lap, a coffee on the go next to her, eyes scanning steadily. You’re leaned back in your chair, head tipped against the wall, eyes half-closed, one earbud tucked in and music playing low.

Without a word, you lift the spare bud and offer it to her.

JJ takes it.

A slow song hums between you. Nothing overtly romantic, just gentle. Steady. The kind of song that wraps around the edges of silence without needing to fill it.

Your head tilts slightly, shoulder brushing hers. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t tense. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment longer than necessary, long enough to feel the moment, and not just let it pass.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

JJ slides into the backseat beside you, the city lights begin blurring past outside as Emily pulls out of the car park, already distracted and in conversation with Derek, their voices a low murmur. JJ passes you a thermos, still warm in your hands. Your fingers brush in the exchange, neither of you pulls away immediately.

“Thought you could use something hot,” JJ says, voice low, a little rough with exhaustion.

Your brain short-circuits for half a second. Your eyes flick to hers, catching the line of her jaw, the way she’s half-turned toward you. A teasing quip sits on your tongue but you swallow it back. Instead, you offer a quiet smile. “I think you’re the only one who ever remembers my coffee order.” You look down at your coffee cup.

JJ shrugs, casual on the surface. But her voice is softer now when she says, “I remember a lot of things about you.”

You turn to her, slowly. She’s already looking out the window like she didn’t just say something that shifted the air between you. Like her heart isn’t thudding under her ribs in a rhythm she hopes you can’t hear.

You don’t respond.

You don’t have to.

The silence settles between you again but it’s not the same. It’s warmer. Tighter. Felt.

Later, JJ’s the one driving. Work is done for the day. You’re in the passenger seat, slouched down, hair tied back messily, eyes heavy from too little sleep and too much adrenaline. Post-case silence stretches, familiar and sacred.

And then, out of nowhere, “By the way,” JJ says, her voice cutting gently through the quiet, “you did good today.”

You let out a soft grumble, your head tipping back against the headrest. Your fingers twist together in your lap. “I kept second-guessing everything.”

“And still figured out what we missed,” JJ says, firm. “You see things differently. That’s... good. We need that.”

You glance over at her, voice low. “Thanks for having my back in there.” JJ keeps her eyes on the road. But her hand flexes slightly on the wheel. Her voice is steady when she replies.

“Of course.”

And that’s it. Simple. Sure.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Got it chasing a guy through a broken window,” you say, flexing your hand as you unwrap the gauze. “You should’ve seen the glass.” You mime the size of the glass that had been embedded in your own skin.

JJ doesn’t smile, not quite. Her eyes flick to the cut trailing along your forearm, sharp against your skin. She steps closer, instinctively reaching out, her fingers brushing gently over the edge of the wound.

“You should be more careful,” she murmurs, voice soft but threaded with something heavier. Her hand lingers on your shoulder, grounding, warm. The contact draws your gaze to hers, your breath catching just slightly in your throat.

For a moment, everything around you, the hum of voices, the scrape of chairs, the shuffle of papers - it all dims.

“I guess careful isn’t really in the job description, huh?” you say, voice lower now, like it’s meant just for her.

JJ’s lips curve into something faint but real. She doesn’t move her hand.

“No,” she says quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to try.”

And you don’t say anything because there’s too much in your chest, too much you’d spill if you did. Instead, you nod, just once.

And she stays a second longer than she needs to.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The bullpen is emptying, slowly. Agents dragging their feet, stretching out aching shoulders, trading low murmurs as they collect files and jackets. The latest case, a string of missing persons scattered across D.C, has kept them all running on fumes.

You sit cross-legged in your chair, a pen tapping rhythmically against your lower lip, eyes scanning the case file for the third time tonight. There’s something there. A thread you haven’t pulled yet. It hums at the edges of your mind. It’s taunting, familiar.

JJ leans against the edge of your desk, arms folded, her posture casual but her gaze sharp. There’s concern in it, softened at the edges, masked by fondness, but unmistakably there. “You’re still here?”

You glance up at her with a tired, crooked smile. “Someone’s gotta make sure we’re not missing the forest for the trees.”

JJ raises an eyebrow. “Pretty sure Hotch would say the forest can wait until tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, eyes flicking back to the page, “but something’s not lining up. Give me a few more minutes.”

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t push. Just watches you quietly, tracking the furrow in your brow, the tension in your jaw, the way your determination has always sat just a little too heavy on your shoulders. “You push yourself too hard,” she says, not quite scolding.

You don’t look up. “And you care too much.”

“Not possible.”

There’s a pause, barely a second but it stretches. You lift your gaze, and for a flicker of a moment, it’s all right there. Everything unsaid. Everything hovering on the edge of maybe.

“Go home, JJ.” Your voice is quiet. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She hesitates. Wants to argue. To stay. To insist you come with her. But she knows that look in your eyes too well, halfway to a breakthrough, halfway to letting someone in.

So instead, she nods.

“Don’t stay too late,” she says, voice soft. Then, more tentative, “Text me when you get home?”

You smile, distracted but sincere. “Promise.”

JJ lingers by the door. Just for a second longer. Just long enough to turn back once more. But you’re already bent over the file again, completely absorbed.

She leaves.

And the silence settles in.

Overhead, the lights hum. One flickers.

You turn another page.

In the end, you don’t text her. Not because you’re one to break a promise or anything. It’s just that you never make it home.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

JJ’s the first to arrive the next morning.

It’s habit, mostly. A quiet building. A few minutes of stillness before the day starts. But something is off the moment she pulls into the parking garage.

Your car is still there, in the same place it always is.

At first, she tells herself it’s nothing. Maybe you came in early. You’re always like that, last to leave, first to arrive. Dedicated to a fault. It’s possible.

But when she steps off the elevator into the bullpen, the lights are still off. The air feels untouched. No fresh coffee. No rustle of papers. Just the low hum of the building, waiting.

JJ flicks on a lamp and glances at your desk. It is still messy. Still lived in. Still yours. 

She checks her phone. Nothing. No messages. No text. Not even the ‘made it home’ she was promised.

Her stomach tightens.

Hotch arrives next. Then Rossi, trading tired greetings. Derek follows a few minutes later, coffee in hand, smile halfway to forming, until JJ turns to him.

“Have you heard from Y/N?” Derek blinks. His face shifts almost immediately.

“She was still here when I left,” he says, frowning now, all trace of ease gone. “Said she wanted to go over the local files again.” He shakes his head. “So like her. Can’t let anything go. Too damn stubborn for her own good.”

JJ doesn’t smile. “She told me she’d text me when she got home.”

Derek pauses, then meets her eyes more carefully this time. But he doesn’t say anything.

They check the security logs. Your badge never swiped out. Your jacket is still draped over the back of your chair. The elevator cam shows you at around midnight - shoulders tense, files in hand, rushing out of the building.

But you never got into your car.

Garcia’s called in from home. She’s already pulling ATM camera footage, hospital intakes, traffic cams, anything. JJ stands frozen at your desk, eyes locked on the half-full mug you left behind. It went cold a long time ago. Like everything else in the room.

“I should’ve stayed,” she says quietly.

No one responds.

Because now they all feel it - the pull of dread sinking into their chests.

You didn’t leave. You’re not coming back. You’re missing.

And the worst part?

Whatever you saw in those files... no one else saw it.

Within seconds, the team is moving. Files spread. Names divided. Leads checked and re-checked. They won't stop until they find you.

But JJ's still standing by your desk, fingers hovering above your coffee mug like touching it might anchor her. Her jaw clenches. She's not going to let this be the last place you were seen.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s been sixteen hours since this nightmare began.

The clock ticks past midnight. The bullpen buzzes with low voices and clacking keys, but no one’s pretending they’re close to anything. They’re exactly where they were this morning, maybe even worse.

JJ’s nerves are threadbare. Her shoulders are locked, muscles screaming from tension. She’s lost count of how many times someone’s told her to go home. If one more person tries again, she might scream. Or cry. Or both.

She paces now, tightly, arms crossed, phone clutched in her hand like she’s waiting for it to ring. She knows it won’t. At least not with the name she aches to see.

Across the room, Derek leans forward on a table, fingers steepled beneath his chin. JJ hasn’t seen him this on edge in years. His knee bounces restlessly. His jaw is tight enough to crack. He’s going through the same hell she is. Of course he is. He loves you. And JJ understands that, more than she ever admitted out loud.

A sudden shout slices through the static hum of tension.

“Guys, we’ve been sent a link!”

The bullpen shifts all at once. Chairs scrape. People stand. Every agent in the room joins together toward the screen. JJ doesn’t remember moving, just that she’s suddenly at the front, heart hammering.

The monitor flickers. Static. Then, a feed stabilizes. Low-res. Cold. A basement.

The camera’s mounted high in the corner, angled down. The walls are cement, grey and sterile. There’s a metal pole in the background, some pipes overhead. No windows. No light but a single bulb swaying slightly overhead.

You’re tied to a chair in the middle of it.

JJ’s stomach plummets. Her breath catches sharp in her chest.

You’re slouched, unmoving. Your face is bruised, one eye swelling shut. Blood is crusted at your temple. Your arms are behind the chair, shoulders tense, wrists bound so tightly the skin looks torn.

You aren’t moving. Not much. Please let that mean you’re conserving energy. Please. Not anything else.

Then, offscreen, a man’s voice, calm and measured. Too calm.

“Do you know why this is happening, Y/N?” You don’t answer. Don’t move. JJ sees your throat twitch, just a swallow. Her heart leaps at the tiny sign of life.

“I'm protecting you really. From them. They left you. Didn’t they?” JJ’s jaw locks. She watches you, not the screen, like she can will you to react, to hold on. She memorizes every inch of you, every twitch and flinch.

Your jaw clenches. Barely.

She sees it.

“Even her. The blonde one. JJ. She’s not coming for you. Not really.” JJ stands stock-still. Her arms are wrapped around herself now, tight and unforgiving. Her nails dig into the soft skin of her sides. Her throat burns. But her eyes don’t move. “She said all the right things, didn’t she? Nice things. But where is she now?”

And then-

You lift your head. Barely. Your voice is raw and cracked, but it cuts through like a blade. “You talk too much.”

JJ exhales sharply. Her lips twitch for just a second, like her heart’s trying to smile through the ache. But it doesn’t last. The unsub appears then, just a blur of movement as he storms into frame and strikes you hard across the face. You reel sideways, nearly tipping the chair. Another blow, this time a kick to the ribs. You groan, body curling in on itself.

JJ flinches violently. Her feet shift like she might run through the screen.

Across the room, Derek turns. His hands clench into fists, and he slams one onto the nearest desk. The unsub keeps speaking, voice dripping with cruelty. “You think you’re strong. But you’re alone. You’ve always been alone.”

JJ’s hands are trembling now. She forces them into fists, holds them tight at her sides to stop it. Hotch steps up beside her, his voice low. “JJ… maybe you shouldn’t-”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.

Hotch nods, backing off. He knows that voice. A voice formed, not of duty, but of love. He knows it, even if JJ hasn’t voiced it.

The unsub walks back into frame. He leans close behind you. JJ leans forward too, unconsciously mirroring the motion, like she can block him with her body.

“She won’t save you.”

JJ shakes her head softly, whispering like you can hear her. “No. I’ve got you. You just need to hold on.”

The unsub’s voice drops lower, colder. “Derek left you too, didn’t he?” Derek storms back toward the screen, face pale and drawn. JJ can see him processing, hating himself. But she doesn’t take her eyes off you.

“Your best friend. Your brother. Morgan. He got out. Left the streets behind… left you behind.” Your fingers twitch against the ropes. JJ notices. Her breath hitches. “He joined the BAU. Made something of himself. What did he do when you showed up?” He knelt down, face close to yours, voice dangerously soft, “He tried to send you back. Didn’t want you there. Not really.”

You shift again. This time, it’s not fear. It’s anger. JJ can feel it through the screen, like a current building in your body. The words hit somewhere you weren’t ready for. That makes them dangerous.

You’re burning.

JJ’s eyes flick to Hotch. “He’s targeting her worst fears. Isolation. Abandonment.” Hotch nods grimly.

“That’s how he breaks them.”

“Not her,” JJ replies, steady now. “Not this time.”

The unsub circles again. Leans down one more time, venom thick in his words. “And why don’t we return to that girl of yours. JJ? She’s just being polite. That’s what she does, right? The soft voice. The smile. Pretends to care. But she doesn’t. You’re a liability to them.” His voice raised in anger, “To her.”

You raise your head. It’s slight, but purposeful. Blood streaks your chin. Your eyes are red, swollen. But they’re clear. Defiant.

“You don’t know her.”

The unsub goes still.

JJ goes still too, her chest aching. You defended her. Even now. Even here.

“She left you.” The Unsub shouted, enunciating each word.

JJ’s voice cracks, but she says it again, louder this time. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Hotch doesn’t reply. He just walks away. Derek remains beside her. He reaches out, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. His voice is thick.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” A pause. “You love her.”

JJ’s eyes are locked on the screen. Her heart’s already there.

“I never said it. I should have.”

Derek squeezes her shoulder gently.

“You will.”

A sharp voice cuts in from the back.

“We might have found something!”

JJ turns slightly, still holding the screen in her periphery. Her pulse pounds louder than the noise around her.

She’s not moving. Not yet. Not until she’s bringing you home.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

JJ can hardly remember the moments leading up to the cabin. The drive was a blur of flashing sirens, shouting over comms, the sound of her own pulse thundering in her ears. She must have convinced Hotch she was okay to go. Or maybe she hadn’t. Maybe he’d just seen the look in her eyes and known there was no stopping her.

Maybe he forgot to stop her.

She doesn’t care. She’s here now. And nothing, nothing, is going to keep her from getting to you. From telling you the things she should have said a long time ago.

The morning is still barely formed. A little after 5AM, the sky is a muted navy, just beginning to pale at the edges. The forest is thick with shadows, trees black against the dawn. The agents’ breath fogs in the cool air. The beams of swinging flashlights cut through the dark.

JJ is running. Branches scrape against her coat, twigs snap underfoot, but she doesn’t feel any of it. The cabin is ahead. She sees it between the trees - a squat, rotting structure. It looks like nothing. But she knows.

Derek is beside her. Wordless. Focused. Ready.

Someone shouts, “Go! Go!” and a boot hits the door. It crashes inward.

They flood inside, guns drawn, eyes scanning.

JJ sees him. Before her brain even catches up, before her body knows what to feel. The man who took you. He stands in the center of the room like he’s been waiting. Like this was the plan all along. And he smiles.

He really smiles. It’s the kind of grin that turns her stomach.

Then, slowly, he reaches his hands behind his back.

“Drop the weapon! Hands where I can see them!” JJ yells, her voice cracking at the edges. There’s a tremor in it, rage, fear, desperation, and maybe that’s why he pauses. Just for a second. Long enough.

Someone else moves. A tackle. The weapon clatters to the floor. The unsub goes down hard. There’s shouting, metallic clinks of cuffs.

But JJ’s already gone.

She shoves past him, to the stairs leading down into the cold basement. She barely even sees him now.

She sees you.

And nothing else matters.

You’re suspended against the far wall, arms strung up above you, your weight sagging against the restraints. You’re bloodied, bruised, barely conscious. JJ stops cold for half a second, her heart threatening to split in two.

Then she’s moving, running.

She reaches up, fingers scrambling to undo the ropes, breath shaking. Your body is limp against her, toes just barely brushing the floor. She catches you as the restraints fall away, cradles you in her arms, lowering you gently.

“See? See, you're okay, right?” she’s saying, her voice breaking as she shifts to support your head, brushing hair away from your forehead with trembling fingers. “Y/N, come on, baby. Show me you're okay. Please.”

For a second, there’s nothing. Her blood runs cold.

Then, you groan. A wheezy, painful sound, but it’s you.

“Told you,” you rasp, barely audible, “being careful… not in the job description.”

JJ lets out a breath that’s half a laugh, half a sob. Her hands slide down to cup your face, her thumbs brushing over the dirt and blood.

“You’re an idiot,” she murmurs back, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your temple, lingering. “You don’t get to be brave. Not like this. You just need to come home.”

Your voice is a whisper now, but it still reaches her.

“I am... home. Here. With you.”

JJ’s throat tightens. She blinks rapidly, pulling you in closer.

“We’re going to get you help. Medics are on the way. Just... just stay with me, okay? Eyes on me. Right here.”

Your eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open.

“And you?” you ask, voice thin. “You’ll… stay?”

She presses her forehead to yours, voice fierce and tender all at once.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Behind her, Derek’s voice breaks through, hushed and full of relief.

“She’s alive?”

JJ doesn’t turn around. She keeps her eyes on you, one hand clutching yours, the other smoothing over your hair.

“She’s okay.”

And maybe it’s not true yet.

But she’s here. And she’ll make it true.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The room is quiet, too quiet, except for the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. It’s sterile, cold in a way that has nothing to do with temperature.

You’re lying in the hospital bed, broken, bruised, but safe. For now. There's a fresh IV taped to the inside of your arm, the skin around it is still raw. Sterile sheets are tucked tight around you, and the scratch of gauze across your temple itches every time you shift.

You stare at the ceiling. Blank. Somewhere between exhausted and numb. Everything hurts, but it’s far away, like your body belongs to someone else.

A chair creaks softly beside you.

JJ sits there, still in her field clothes. Her bulletproof vest unzipped, dirt streaked across her cheek, hair pulled hastily back into a low ponytail. Her elbows rest on her knees, hands clasped tightly between them like she’s praying, though her eyes never close. Her coat lies on the floor nearby, twigs and leaves still clinging to the fabric.

She hasn’t left since they brought you in.

“You’re still here,” you croak out, voice raw and gravelly.

JJ’s head snaps up like she'd been holding her breath, and the second her eyes meet yours, her lips curve into a small, tired smile. “Told you I wouldn’t leave.”

You try to smile, too. It barely twitches at the corners of your mouth. Your throat works as you swallow. “You didn’t have to stay,” you rasp, gaze drifting toward the window. “I know it’s late. Or early. Or whatever…”

Your brow furrows. You’ve lost track of time. Of everything.

JJ sits back a little, expression unwavering. “You think I could sleep not knowing if you were okay?”

You blink, surprised, once more, by the steel in her voice.

“Everyone’s told me to go home,” she adds. “Hotch, the nurses… hell, even Derek. Don’t you start on me now.” Her tone softens just slightly, but the weight remains. “I thought you’d have my back.”

You let out a quiet exhale. You turn your head to look at her, slowly, stiffly, everything aching.

“Of course I do.” But there’s something behind your eyes. Something distant. JJ sees it instantly. You turn away, staring at the wall now, brows drawing together.

“Talk to me,” JJ says, voice still gentle, but more sure now. A command wrapped in concern.

Your lips part. It takes effort to speak. “He said a lot of things, you know,” you murmur. “About Derek. About… you.”

The air seems to shift. Heavy again.

Your eyes lock on hers, tentative but searching.

“He said I don’t belong. That I’m a liability.”

JJ goes still. Her jaw sets, shoulders tensing just slightly.

Then she leans forward again, eyes blazing, not with anger, but with fierce, protective conviction. “Then he’s just as much a liar as he is a monster.”

You hesitate. “You sure? ‘Cause I’m not exactly textbook BAU…”

JJ’s face softens just slightly, but there’s conviction in her voice. “Textbook agents don’t survive what you did,” she says, her voice growing more intense with every word. “You held on. You stayed strong. You fought. That doesn’t make you a liability. That makes you a warrior.”

She catches herself, breathing in deep, reining in the emotion that’s starting to creep into her tone.

“You being here doesn’t weaken us. It makes us stronger. You make us stronger.” Her fingers curl slightly against yours. “You make me stronger.”

Your breath catches. You blink rapidly, trying to laugh, but it gets caught halfway in your throat.

JJ notices, and her hand moves up to brush lightly against your cheek, carefully avoiding the bruises. Her touch is soft. Grounding.

“Hey,” she murmurs, “you don’t have to be tough right now. You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

Your eyes flutter shut for a second. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“I just wanted to see you alive.”

The words hang in the air between you.

Then, JJ swallows. Her grip tightens just slightly.

“To tell you-” she starts, but breaks off, breath catching. “You scared me,” she says, finally. “And I don’t scare easy.”

You swallow hard. “That’s… that’s what you wanted to tell me?”

She huffs out a breath, part bitter laugh, part confession. “No.” Her gaze drops to where your hands are entwined, then lifts back to your face. “I watched that footage,” she says softly. “You tied up. Hurt. Bloody. And I didn’t blink. Not once. Because if I blinked, I might miss something. Anything. A sign that you were still fighting.”

You flinch, a trace of guilt shadowing your face. “You shouldn’t have watched that,” you whisper.

“I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t leave you alone.” Another long silence stretches between you. Heavier than the last. But this one isn’t from fear. It’s full of everything else. The words you both haven’t said.

You clear your throat softly. “I was scared too.”

JJ lets out a breath. It is long and slow, as though your honesty cracked something in her.

Her thumb strokes over your knuckles. She’s quiet for a beat. Then:

“I’ve loved you,” she says, voice hushed. “For a little while now. I didn’t say anything because... God, I don’t even know. Timing? Fear?” A bitter laugh. “Maybe I thought you already knew.”

“I think I did,” you whisper. Your eyes are glassy, but your voice is steady. “I just… didn’t let myself believe it.”

The tension between you slowly begins to melt. Not completely. But enough.

Outside the room, a familiar figure leans quietly against the doorframe. Derek Morgan watches with his arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, slowly, he breaks into a small proud smile.

He shakes his head with a quiet exhale.“About damn time.”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

You wince as you limp down the corridor toward the bullpen, each step sending a dull throb through your body. Every inch of movement takes effort. You're immensely grateful for the elevator. Just the thought of climbing stairs makes your stomach turn. Even pressing the right button felt like a battle. But you push forward, jaw clenched, focusing on anything but the pain.

You're barely halfway down the hall when a familiar figure slips beside you. JJ. Two coffees in hand, and an expression of gentle exasperation mixed with something much softer, something closer to awe.

She gives you a once-over. “Where does it hurt?”

You smirk faintly. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

JJ’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t rise to the bait. “You shouldn’t be in.”

“I was going crazy sitting at home,” you reply with a shrug, or what passes for one. “Besides, I missed the paperwork. Thought I’d come back for all the fun.”

JJ raises an eyebrow and presses one of the coffee cups into your hand. “You’re lucky I brought you this.” She gives you a sidelong look. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Completely.” Then you pause. “Okay, well... not completely, but-”

“You should’ve stayed home.”

“JJ, I’m fine,” you insist, even as your steps falter slightly. “Just a few bruises.”

“You do remember I saw you, right?” Her voice dips, softer now. “I know what he did.”

“Just old bruises,” you say quickly.

“Oh, and a few dozen stitches, huh? No big deal.” She rises to your sarcasm but doesn’t give in.

You grin through the ache. “Exactly.”

JJ sighs. “You’re an idiot.”

“Doesn’t that just make you fall for me even more?”

“Hmm, no. Surprisingly, idiocy isn’t a selling point.”

“Oh come on,” you tease, trying to keep the air light, “normally this roguish charm works pretty well on the ladies.”

Her expression changes then. One that is sharper, more serious. She stops walking. “I saw what you went through,” she says, voice low. “I went through it with you. And I don’t need to recover from that by laughing it off. I need you to be honest with me.” Her eyes meet yours, unwavering. “You don’t have to pretend with me. Not now. Not ever.”

You hesitate. For a second, your shoulders drop, and the performance slips.

“Noted,” you murmur. “So the whole ‘I’m fine, tough as ever’ act is never going to work on you?”

Derek appears at your side and snorts. “You’re about as fine as a cracked sidewalk, Y/N. Sit down before you fall down.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already guiding you toward your desk chair.

“I’ll sit when you admit I was always faster than you.” You grin, trying to straighten up, to prove you’re okay, slipping back into the old bravado.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “You were fast, whatever. Still dumb as hell trying to play hero over here, Frankenstein.”

“Oh, I get it,” you add, nodding at his joke, gesturing to the various stitches, “very clever—but just so you know, it’s Frankenstein’s monster—”

“Miss Know-It-All,” he groans, rolling his eyes. “We both know I copied all your English homework in school. Don’t start showing off now.”

You gasp with mock outrage. “Wow. I get tortured and this is the thanks I get?”

As he guides you into the chair, shaking his head with a chuckle, you smile.

Or try to.

The second you're sitting and his back is turned (he’s off to find some funny casework he’s been writing up and wants to show you) your expression crumples. Just a little. You exhale slowly, one hand drifting unconsciously to your side, fingers grazing the worst of your healing wounds.

JJ notices instantly, she’s been at your side the whole time, hovering lovingly. Her smile fades as she watches you.

“So, about that whole honesty thing…”

You don’t meet her eyes. “God, I know, JJ. It’s just… I hate being weak.”

JJ steps closer, perching on the corner of the desk nearest to you. There’s no judgment in her face. Just warmth. Understanding.

“You’re not weak,” she says firmly. “You got hurt. And instead of giving yourself time to heal, you’re pretending you’re okay because you’re scared of slowing down.”

“If I slow down,” you admit quietly, “I feel it. And if I feel it, I…” Your voice catches. “I remember too much.”

JJ doesn’t flinch. She just nods, like she’s known this all along.

“Then let me help you carry it,” she says, her hand finding yours again, anchoring you. You swallow thickly, emotion rising like a tide. Your eyes flick to hers, glassy now.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you whisper, squeezing her hand lightly.

“You’re not,” JJ says, steady as a vow.

She moves to the chair beside you and gently takes the coffee from your hand, slipping her arm around your shoulders with practiced care. You don’t resist. You let yourself lean into her, just a little, just enough.

“Come on,” she says. “You can heal at my place. No more pretending.”

“You sure?”

JJ smiles, this time soft and certain. “I’ve been sure. About this. About you. For weeks.”

Together, you stand (slowly) and start walking out of the bullpen (even slower). The world outside is still too bright, too loud... but for now, this is enough. You. Her. Moving slowly. Quietly. Together.

As you near the door, you glance back over your shoulder with a tired grin. Derek calls out your name, knowing, under his own bravado, that you’re still piecing yourself together.

“Don’t think this gets you out of paperwork forever, tough girl,” he warns with a wink.

“Just long enough to make you miss me,” you call back.

“Yeah, yeah. Next time, come back a little less mashed up, would you?” Derek mutters.

JJ’s breath hitches. She squeezes your side lightly.

He continues, softer now, “You gotta take care of yourself.” A pause, a glance at the woman next to you. “And let others take care of you, too.”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Sunlight spills into the kitchen, soft and hazy. The world feels like it’s still waking up. Outside, birds call faintly, and somewhere nearby, coffee mugs clink gently.

JJ stands at the stove in a worn hoodie and leggings, hair pulled back in a messy bun. She moves quietly, instinctively, with one hand cradling a mug of coffee, the other flipping something in a pan.

Behind her, there was the shuffle of bare feet. She doesn’t need to turn around. “You’re up early.”

Your voice is still thick with sleep, a rasp clinging to the edges. “Didn’t mean to be. Your bed’s too comfortable.” You wrap your arms around her and press a kiss to her shoulder. “Too quiet, though.”

JJ turns to look at you, wrapped in the blanket the two of you slept with, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands. Your hair is a mess. Your eyes are still a little puffy. You look soft. Real.

She smiles. “I was going to bring you breakfast. You’re supposed to be milking this for all it’s worth.”

“I’m not so great at the whole ‘let someone take care of me’ thing,” you admit, easing away from her and settling into a chair, your body still aching. Less than before but always there.

JJ follows, plate in hand. “Lucky for you, I’m great at ignoring that.”

You chuckle as she slides the plate in front of you, scrambled eggs, toast, sliced fruit. Simple. But it feels like more than that.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” Your shoulders tense, caught between gratitude and guilt.

“I know,” she says softly. “I wanted to.” And with that, the guilt dissolves, “You take care of everyone else,” she adds. “Let me do it for you. Just for a while.”

You look down at the plate, blinking a little too fast. Your voice, when it comes, is barely above a whisper.

“It’s just... he said I was forgettable. That I’d disappear, and no one would even notice.”

JJ doesn’t speak right away. She steps around the counter, slipping her arms gently around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder, mirroring how you’d held her earlier.

“I noticed,” she says. “Every minute you were gone. I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe.”

You lean back against her. Let your eyes flutter shut. “And while I’m being honest,” you murmur, “I was afraid I’d never see you again. That I’d never get this. Just… a quiet morning. With you.”

JJ presses a kiss to your ear. “You’re not going anywhere,” she whispers. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” She leans forward, kissing your cheek. “And I do,” she adds, warm and certain. “I have lots to say about it.”

A quiet beat.

“JJ?”

She moves to sit beside you, her hand trailing to rest gently on your thigh. She touches you often, grounding you, and you're grateful for it.

“Yeah?”

“I’m so glad I have you.”

JJ’s smile softens. “I’m glad I have you too.”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The sun is low now, casting warm amber light across the yard, painting long shadows that sway with the breeze. The air is soft, still holding onto the last of the day’s warmth. You and JJ sit side by side on the porch steps, her thigh pressed gently against yours. The silence between you is companionable, comfortable in a way it wasn’t just a week ago. You’ve settled in what is close to a domestic life over the past week. Her hand rests near yours on the step, not quite touching, but close enough to count.

You’ve taken time to heal, together. Just the two of you. No work involved.

The back gate creaks open.

“Well damn,” a familiar voice calls, all swagger and affection. “So you are alive.”

Derek Morgan’s grin is unmistakable as he strolls in, flanked by the rest of the BAU. Garcia’s bright hair catches the light, Rossi’s hands are caught in his pockets, and Spencer lingers just behind, his smile small but sincere.

Your head jerks toward them, breath catching. You laugh, a sound halfway between a choke and a sigh of relief. JJ squeezes your shoulder and rises, giving you a knowing look before slipping quietly inside, letting the team filter past her into the house. She doesn’t need to say anything. She knows you need this moment.

Derek takes his time walking up to you. There’s mischief in his eyes, sure, but it’s softened around the edges. Protective. Grateful. His hands are in his pockets, but his posture is open and grounded.

“Took you long enough,” you say, smirking through the emotion building behind your ribs.

“Traffic was hell,” he shoots back. “Also had to emotionally prepare for how bad you probably smell, cooped up, recovering.”

You roll your eyes, but Derek’s smile falters as he gets a better look at you, really sees you. You're not quite the same. There’s still pain in your eyes, exhaustion in the lines of your face. But there’s colour in your skin again. Strength, even in your stillness. A light that wasn’t there before.

He closes the last few feet and pulls you into a hug. Not a tentative one. Not the kind people give when they’re worried you’ll break. A real one. Fierce. Familiar.

You melt into it, letting your arms wrap tight around him, clinging a second longer than you mean to.

“You okay?” you ask, voice low now.

You pull back just enough to look at him. He shakes his head, smiling, “I should be asking you that.”

You snort, eyes scanning him again. “I’m good. Better now.” You pause, hesitate, before deciding you have to tell him and tell him now, “JJ and I…” You pause. “We’re… something.”

Derek grins. “Oh, I knew that a long time ago.” He nudges your side. “Neither one of you subtle types could hide it if you tried. Big brother instincts don’t lie.” He softens, “She’s brought you back to being you over this past week. I never thought that was just a friendship.”

You laugh, eyes glinting. “Rumor has it you had a pool going. You were targeting Em.”

“Please.” He waves it off. “Look at you... traumatized, stubborn, full of backtalk. It’s like we never left Chicago.”

“Don’t forget emotionally repressed and slightly feral.”

“Mmm. Only slightly?” He tilts his head toward the house, then back to you. “She takes good care of you, though. Right?”

You nod, gaze softening. “Always did. Even when I didn’t know how to let her.”

Derek’s smile fades into something more heartfelt. His brow furrows slightly, like he’s holding back the weight of everything that could’ve been lost.

“You scared the hell outta all of us,” he says quietly. “You know that, right?”

Your throat tightens, but you meet his gaze. “I was scared too. I thought... I thought I’d disappear, and no one would notice.”

His expression hardens, gentle but fierce. “Hey. Look at me.”

You do.

“We’re family. We don’t let each other go out like that. You didn’t disappear. You lit up a goddamn flare. JJ nearly burned the world down getting to you.”

That breaks something open inside you, and you laugh, wiping quickly at your eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “She’s like that.”

Derek pulls you back into a brief hug, one hand ruffling your hair before he releases you. “You deserve this. Her. All of it. You always did.”

You smile, the kind that sticks. The kind that means something.

“You’re gonna make me cry again, man.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go soft on me now,” he teases. “You still owe me a drink when you’re done milking the whole ‘recovering hostage’ angle.”

From inside the house, JJ’s voice rings out: “Wine? Both of you?”

The sound of laughter follows, Garcia’s high and bright, Spencer’s soft and amused, Rossi muttering something about finally opening the good bottle.

“I’m in,” Derek calls back. “We both are.”

He throws an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close as you both head toward the door. You lean into him for a step longer than needed but he doesn’t mind. He just squeezes your shoulder.

“You got your people now, sweetheart,” he says, nodding toward the house. “Don’t forget that.”

Your hand brushes the doorway as you step inside. Warmth, light, voices. A second chance waiting on the other side.

You smile, real and certain. “I won’t ever forget.”

[inkpot909]

Your Relationship Trope (Bucciarati’s Gang)

↳ Gender Neutral Reader. Takes place after the events of Part 5 in a everyone lives!AU.

A/n: It’s been a while! I had to take some time for personal matters, so sorry for my absence. I wrote something just a tad more breezy to help ease myself back into it; I really missed writing. I hope y’all enjoy!

Warning(s): None.

Giorno Giovanna

-> Love at First Sight

This deeply romantic, cheesy, guy.

Because of how much he prides himself on understanding, and by extension owning, his own thoughts and feelings- he could tell there was something drawing him to you the moment he met you. A gut feeling that he’d really care to know you better; one that he knows better than to ignore.

Good luck trying to hide anything from him yourself, either. He is as good at reading others as he is himself.

Therefore, if you felt immediately drawn to him as well, he’s going to notice. You might not say anything outright or maybe try to bury it deep down… but either way, he can tell.

Not that he minds your affections, of course. Giorno gets into this cheeky habit of dangling the concept of a potential relationship above your head. Just out of reach.

Yes, it’s in part because he wants to tease you. Seeing you grow flustered at his unapologetically forward flirtations… it never gets old.

But Giorno is also a very busy individual.

It’s difficult for him to plan meetups with you, being gone for days on end at times. Even up and leaving at the drop of a hat if the need arises. He takes his position seriously, and has been a rather involved Don since day one.

And Giorno is a sucker for the details, so he won’t make the final push to become official unless it’s the perfect moment.

Luckily for you, he’s a patient guy.

And as mentioned, he can read you like an open book. He knows you’re not looking at other men or women. Keenly aware you’re waiting for him to make some grand gesture.

Some guilt inevitably spawns whenever he gets extra busy, but your happiness at getting to see him again quickly puts those worries to rest for the time being.

All that in due time… after all, if it’s really true love, he is in no desire to rush.

That being said, the people in his inner circle would absolutely like him to rush. Who knows about his feelings for you? Everyone.

That’s not hyperbole, he’s fairly certain everyone around him can tell.

He will never shut up about you. In damn near any situation where it may be appropriate. Not in any situation that it would potentially reach your ears.

Mista himself has commented that he doesn’t know which he would prefer: Giorno before a relationship with you or during. Either way he’s ‘dealing with a lovesick fool.’

Giorno doesn’t care much, already knowing it’s something his closest friends ought to get used to. Confident in himself and what he picks up on.

After all, your smile says what his mind is already thinking.

Bruno Bucciarati

-> Reunited Childhood Friends

Bruno Bucciarati is a man that has stuck with the same haircut and pattern of clothing since he was twelve years old.

Of course he’s still not over you by the time of the inevitable reunion. Like Giorno, he’s definitely a ‘one love’ sort of man.

Getting contacted by you felt like a dream… but it also brought forth initial hesitation.

Due to the specific turn his life took, he had to leave a lot of things behind. Some more regrettable than others… and you were one of his biggest regrets for a long time.

Regardless, his heart won that day- as he agreed to meeting up with you faster than he would care to admit.

The excitement and build up to it after a date was set is a beast in of itself. The prospect of finally seeing you again after all these years fills his chest with a warmth he’s only ever associated with you.

His mind whirls, all his thoughts leading back to the hope that he’ll get to know the person you have matured into.

Your career, hobbies, how your family is doing, the path you’ve been walking down ever since he’d left its course far too long ago… and him praying there’s a distinct lack of a ring on your left hand.

Bruno’s glad to say that his hopes were well-placed. Upon seeing you again, you proved to be just as eager to know how he’s been doing all this time.

Your questions leave him feeling bittersweet; something he knew would happen.

How could he even begin to explain himself? Would he even want to? You deserve more than a short explanation or a lie. But he cannot and will not bring you into gang affairs either. And if he was honest…. where would he even begin?

“I committed murder to protect my father when I was twelve and ended up entangled in gang affairs. Sorry for not giving you a phone call.”

… it needs work, to put it lightly.

He’s not the type to succumb to fear but… it’s difficult not to stress over what you would think of him if he’s completely honest with you. It’s a testament to how deeply special you are to him; hardly ever getting this mentally worked up over anything outside his beloved team.

The push and pull of wanting to be honest with you- yet not wanting to risk putting a target on your back.

Whether it’s due to the years of separation or just the undeserved kindness you offer him, at some point, you admit to only thinking of those old days fondly.

Regardless of being quite startled with his sudden absence in your life, you couldn’t hold it against him. You knew of his parents divorce, and the last thing you had heard, was that Bruno’s father was in the hospital.

At first, he’s just resigns himself into being grateful you had it within yourself to forgive him.

But how can he hope to ignore… how lovely of a person you have grown up to be- inside and out. In the long run, it just doesn’t happen. His feelings truly snowballing for the first time in years.

Suddenly, he feels like a foolish child again. Only now, he must be doing something right because you could cause traffic to stop with the way you start to look at him.

There’s a warm nostalgia to you. Someone who knows him; truly knows him. Outside of his work and the contradictions he over for it for years.

And it gets to a point where Bruno resolves he must tell you how he feels. And by then, he won’t dally.

You’re back in his life again, and he’s sure as hell not leaving. Especially not without expressing his feelings.

Only took him short of nine years.

Leone Abbacchio

-> ‘We’re Just Coworkers’

He doesn’t necessarily meet people outside Passione, not one to go out of his way to seek companionship.

He has the team. He has Bucciarati. There isn’t much he wants, or feels like he can, ask for.

It’s because of this that you both are most likely to meet through the organization.

And there’s no doubt that Abbacchio is… apathetic to your position in the gang at first.

Now, he’s not as harsh on you as he was comparatively to Giorno. You’re not a fifteen year old with a savior complex and a tendency to act with a sort of righteous grandeur.

So, in short, you’re already doing great as far as he’s concerned.

Not that he warms up to you quickly; quite the opposite. Weeks will pass before he starts to slowly accept and involve you in any meaningful capacity. A guy like him just needs time to get used to someone so new to him… lots and lots of time.

Once that need has been met, he figures you’re alright.

Not bad company- in or out of Passione business. Far favorable to other people around him, as far as he’s concerned. He finds that you’re much better to converse with than Mista or Fugo.

It’s in his nature to compare a little bit, so when he starts seeing you from a fairer perspective… that’s when a quiet appreciation forms.

Alas, his heart is not as immovable as he likes believing it to be.

Over time, the two of you start to metaphorically lean on one another.

It starts off professionally enough, relying on one another in the heat of battle. Then, it gets to a more personal level- quieter conversations maintained between the two of you beneath the usual noise of the others interacting just a foot or two away.

Still, you two only work together. It’s professional. Without question. At least, that’s the case if Abbacchio or you are asked about it directly.

But the others are oh-so-quick-to-point-out that him letting you crash on his bed during particularly exhausting nights is not exactly platonic behavior. Nor is just how sucked into conversations the two of you get, or how much time you spend one-on-one.

And Abbacchio is nothing if not the type to do the exact opposite of what everyone says.

He’s going to deny it for months. Hell, years if you let him.

Never mind the fact the two of you already act like a couple. Getting ‘mistaken’ as one when going out, regardless if it’s just the two of you or not. Each time, you’re both insistent that you’re merely work friends.

It would be ten times more frustrating if there wasn’t any truth to it that neither of you are prepared to admit to.

It takes a healthy amount of whack cartoonish logic for things to finally fall into place. Being locked in a small room for twenty minutes, or possibly an accidental kiss to the lips… that sort of thing.

Guido Mista

-> Coffee Shop Regular

Mista likes the simple things in life, no doubt.

There’s many ways that fact manifests. One example is that he often wanders around the city in order to check out local businesses. Diners, secondhand stores, and little coffee shops. He knows the area well, and likes sparking up conversations with the people he comes across.

And a cute worker at one of his favorite coffee shops? Makes his day even better, he’d figure.

He was already a regular at your place of employment long before you were hired. Meaning, when he saw a new face behind the counter, he had to offer a hello with a relaxed smile on his face.

And to his credit, it was incredibly easy to like him.

The type of customer who’s always in a decent mood, not too impatient, and always knowing what he wanted to order long before walking in.

Sprinkle in a pleasant ‘hello’ or a lighthearted joke every now and then, and he starts to notice your face brightening every time he enters the shop.

He won’t argue against the idea it fills him with something far deeper than pride.

Beyond finding you initially attractive, he considers you a good worker. He cannot imagine being a barista is always easy, but he’d care to point out that you make it look easy. You know his order by memory after a while, and conversation with you comes naturally.

And soon, the workplace barrier is finally shattered. Happening so casually it was practically thoughtless.

One day, Mista walked into the store just when you were sent on a break. He greeted you as always, and offered to sit with you while you decompressed with a cup of coffee of your own.

That’s when he’d say that something a bit more concrete formed. More real, past the relationship of worker and patron.

And he grows unapologetically forward by then too.

He’s not the type to hit on you at work, but certainly not above blatantly asking for your number after he felt it may be appropriate to do so.

He finds it to be a casual and natural progression, something that is in his nature to embrace.

Like Giorno, though, he’ll drag out the time before asking you out just in order to tease you. He doesn’t automatically figure out that you might be into him, but he’ll get the hint by the time you two start calling one another regularly.

He’s not easily affected by the others teasing him over you, either. He openly admits that he’s into you, why get embarrassed?

Now, if someone makes a comment about it in front of you, then he’ll get flustered. An emotion expressed through frustration and defensiveness.

Regardless of that, it’s such a relaxed progression that at some point he thinks meeting you may have been fate. There’s a ton of coffee shops all around Naples, yet you chose to work at one of the small handful he regularly likes visiting.

If his life is predetermined, like he believes it is, then he’s grateful fate is on his side.

Pannacotta Fugo

-> Friends to Lovers

This man looks at someone with a view on love like Giorno and scoffs with distain.

The notion of ‘love at first sight’ is one that is only entertained by foolish and idealistic individuals, according to Fugo. Rolling his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips… he thinks that mindset is ridiculous and is unafraid to express it.

Hell, romantic relationships aren’t even on his radar in general.

He doesn’t look down on or think negatively of anyone in one, of course. But it’s hardly ever on his mind. Focused on Passione and the team he is proud to be a part of.

And that doesn’t change one bit upon meeting you.

As usual, such a thing doesn’t cross his mind once. The prospect of a potential new ally and friend is the only one he cares to ponder, even if you start off on the right foot. He’s a little distant, but polite and fair enough to give you a chance.

Good thing he did to, as far as hindsight is concerned.

A funny individual and someone who hardly ever makes him want to flip a table? He’s glad to call you his friend once a foundation of trust is established.

If he thinks about it, he’d have to admit to himself there’s something very earnest and warm about the relationship.

You’re a good conversationalist, he respects your intelligence, and even silence around you is comfortable.

More than that, you’re reliable. Stress doesn’t come quite as easy whenever you’re around. And when it does, you understand him. You know just what to say and how to say it. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to express the same kindness.

He starts thinking of you when you’re not around, especially when he’s alone. Thinking of anything from a fond or humorous memory, or simply the curve of your smile.

Oh… oh no.

Tackling his own growing feelings is a lengthy process. He wasn’t interested in seeking out a partner, but he catches feelings before he even realizes it.

And figuring out your feelings on the matter? Forget it.

He won’t say a thing unless you make a move yourself, too wary to even admit he could realistically do something himself. A fact the others are quite keen on reminding him of.

His insecurity won’t last forever, though.

Being around you is such a joy that it’s hard to get trapped in his own mind in the moment. That smile on your face, and sentences leaving your lips in the familiar tones of your voice…

You are his friend first and foremost; someone he feels he can really talk to and trust.

And that’s why you turn out to be everything he didn’t know he’d ever hope for.

Narancia Ghirga

-> Will They, Won’t They?

Giorno is going to start making Narancia pay for his therapy appointments. Abbacchio once made a sarcastic remark about wanting to start drinking again because of this. Mista has given Narnacia approximately twenty three lectures over the subject. Fugo is pulling his hair out.

And really, who can blame any of them?

Having to watch you and Narancia interact on a regular basis is a frustrating experience- to put it lightly.

That feeling only heightened by the fact that it’s something no one feels as though they can even comment directly on whenever you and Narancia are both around. Simply swallowing any words bubbling to the surface.

All this to say, Narancia falls for you quickly and he falls hard.

At first, there wasn't a single complaint to be had from anyone on the team. On the contrary, the others took the time to hype him up with wide smiles and pats on his back.

Narancia himself is excited to be experiencing something as genuinely sweet and grounded as a crush, and that elation was contagious.

But then a couple weeks pass... then a month... then another month... then another....

If the others were a smidge more invasive, they would've just pushed you two in front of one another yelling 'to just get on with it already' months ago.

Specifically Fugo, who actively lets it get to him in a way that Narancia merely huffs at. Sometimes offering a noncommittal response if he feels it’s necessary.

It doesn't matter how much his former tutor gets on his case, Narancia’s not budging. A light blush present on his face when he insists for the hundredth time that there's no way you could possibly feel the same.

Your own friends go through a very similar situation on the other end of things.

Similarly with someone like Abbacchio, the two of you act like a couple far before anything is set in stone. Unlike him, it's less causal and downright mind-boggling to the people around you.

Your legs lazily draped over his lap, going on drives that last for hours at a time, one barely ever seen without the other, and talking about each other constantly.

The latter became so frequent that Giorno once had to pull Narancia aside and tell him to stop mentioning you at Passione meetings.

Narancia has to bit his lip just to stop himself, but he manages. Much to the Don’s relief- never wanting to have that kind of conversation with a friend again.

Giorno cannot and won't try to control him outside of work, though, so it was merely half the battle.

Not that Narancia particularly minds the others' reactions to it very much.

Months into his affections and he's gotten used to the constant stream of teasing. Besides, he lies to himself figures that maybe they're just jealous. He wouldn’t blame them if that’s the case, finding you as special as any person can be.

Regardless of what anyone says, the sweetness is there.

An amusement to be had over how truly clueless the both of you are, despite interacting with flushed faces and stuttering words. It’s sweet, then annoying to the point where it circles around to being funny.

But you and Narancia retreat into your own little world where all of that melts away. He’s loyal, and since you hold his heart, it would be an understatement to say you’re just important to him.

Who will give in and admit the crush first? It's up in the air.

[apclyptc]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN— matt and chris sturniolo x reader

synopsis— you and your friends decide to play a dirty drinking game. but with matt on your left, and chris on your right, how will you ever be able to decide who you want more?

warnings— suggestive themes, drinking, brief suggestive moment with waylon felipe (that man is FIIIIINE) use of a dirty scenario card game, ysb tril and brandon (gwhip) are in this but there’s not really anything suggestive with them (even tho they’re FIIIINE and underrated as fuck), basically the most ooc dumb shit ever, just use your utmost imagination pls lmao

foreword— i got this idea from a card game i own. it’s called kinkies get legless if anyone would like to know. voila!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

why, on god’s green earth, did you agree to this? you knew exactly what you signed up for when nate had organised a party— nothing big, just all your close friends— and revealed a card game for everyone to play.

“if anyone wants to back out now, this is your only chance.” nate chuckled when nick and madi both stepped back. he’d already explained the card game to everyone:

complete the dare written on the card, or skip the dare and take a shot. straightforward, until he gave an example of said cards.

“choose which person in the group you’re most likely to have a wet dream over.”

you laughed, but deep down you knew this was not going to end well.

after all, you were sat between matt and chris. you were close friends with the triplet brothers, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t harbour a crush for the two you were currently sandwiched in between. you’d already admitted these feelings to madi, who gave you the sound advice to choose one.

but it wasn’t that easy, was it? they were both so… great, and yet so different at the same time.

maybe you could use this opportunity to decide.

as it stood, matt was on your left, chris on your right, and waylon, another good friend of yours, directly opposite you.

nate, being the host and also the orchestrator of this hellish game, pulled a card first, and read out loud.

“give the player of the person on your left a lap dance? hell yeah!” nate exclaimed, standing from his seat and giving trilly the most dramatic lap dance of his life. everyone laughed at this, knowing nate would most likely do all of his dares.

before you knew it, it was coming up to your turn. but first, chris had to pull a card.

you prayed to every god you knew that he didn’t pull a card that involved you.

“oh my god, this game is crazy.” chris laughed, before reading out his card, “act out the doggy style position with the person to your left.”

you could die of embarrassment. this was truly a terrible, no good, awful idea. why did you agree to this?

the room was filled with ooh’s and aah’s, waiting to see if chris would take a shot instead of doing the dare. he glanced over at you, as if to say you could choose.

you shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact you were screaming inside.

“come on, let’s get this over with.” he motioned you over with his hand, and you hesitantly stood.

you felt chris behind you, his hands moving to your waist as he pushed his hips up to yours, though he didn’t move.

immediately you laughed, and everyone else followed.

“this is literally the dumbest thing you’ve ever suggested, nate.” you shouted through everyone’s laughter.

“agreed.” chris sat back down, but not before placing a pillow over his lap.

“but it’s so funny!” nate replied.

it may have been funny, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about chris’ hips pressed up to your ass. you almost wished he moved.

regardless, it was your turn to pull a card.

“choose three… okay, what the fuck.” you covered your mouth, giggling.

“let me see,” matt leaned over to read the card and pulled a face, “choose three players you’d make a sex tape with.”

how could you even begin to answer that? why did you agree to this?

you weren’t going to skip the card, you didn’t want to be the first to do it. so you’d have to answer. and lie.

“i guess if i had to pick, i’d say tril, waylon aaaaaand… this is hard actually…. brandon.” you spoke.

the three boys dapped each other up, which made you chuckle.

“don’t get too excited, it’s never gonna happen.” you teased.

“i guess it’s my turn,” matt piped up, grabbing a card from the deck.

“oh this one’s easy, it says confess the least sexy thing someone has said to you. one time a girl asked me if she could call me nick while we were, you know…” he clicked his mouth and whistled.

“wait, what the fuck?” nick perked up from the other side of the room.

chris cackled loudly, “shit, i remember that. you told me not to tell him.”

“well, did you let her do it?” tril asked jokingly.

“that’s fucking gross! i swear to god matt you better have said no.” nick yelled, which only made chris laugh more.

“obviously i said no, you moron.”

by now, the deck of cards had gone around the room a couple of times.

waylon pulled the card, let the person opposite you sit on your face which you accepted gracefully after successfully sneaking yourself a couple of shots.

at some point you pulled the choose the players you’d most likely have a threesome with card which you chose matt and chris immediately took a shot.

nate had rank the asses of the players from best to worst, and while chris was number one, you were satisfied with your ranking at third— he placed himself second.

already it was back to chris.

“i actually don’t think i can do this one.” chris covered his eyes.

“what does it say?” you asked. you wished you didn’t.

he turned the card over to you. it read, whisper the dirtiest thing you’d do to the player on your left.

“chris, don’t be a pussy, you already skipped the last one.” nate raised his eyebrows.

“dude, i don’t care how close we are, i’m not passing you an ice cube from my mouth.” chris spoke incredulously, which made everyone chuckle, though you were too busy wondering what chris would even say to you.

“new rule, if you skipped your last card you can’t skip the next one.” nate shouted, to which chris flipped him off.

“you good with this?” chris turned to you.

“sure. it’s just a game right?” you pretended to be unfazed.

chris leaned into your ear, as everyone watched.

“if we were alone right now, i’d fill you up so deep that you’d forget how to talk.”

oh.

“what did he say– oh my god, y/n’s face has gone red!”

oh.

“damn chris, you’re looking kinda red too.”

oh.

“okay move on, please.” chris laughed it off.

but you wanted to do anything but move on, partly because you were sweating— is it hot in here?— and partly because it was your turn again.

let the person to your left give you a love bite.

you weren’t sure you could handle this game anymore. you were barely over the words chris had whispered to you, and now you were supposed to let matt give you a hickey?

and to make things worse, because of the new rule (thanks a lot, nate) you couldn’t skip your turn.

“this game is getting intense, i can’t lie.” waylon mumbled to brandon, who agreed with him excitedly.

“sorry matt, i can’t skip.” you said awkwardly.

matt quickly downed a shot, before replying, “don’t worry about it.” and moved his lips to your collarbone.

he made quick work of sucking on your skin while embarrassment waved over you.

there were a million thoughts running through your head at once but the one that stood out most was how good it felt to have matt leaving a trace of his lips on your body. you were acutely aware of the slight pain mixed with the considerable amount of pleasure that came with his bite.

after what seemed like way too long, he soothed your collarbone with a lick and parted ways with it.

“i didn’t know matt had that dog in him.” tril joked.

briefly, everyone had split into their own conversations, leaving you to your own chaotic thoughts.

but matt placed a hand on your thigh.

“you okay?” he asked you, and of course you were not.

“mhm. just didn’t think this game would be so insane.”

matt smirked ever so slightly.

“me neither. are you having fun, at least?”

“yeah, it’s pretty entertaining. are you?” you responded honestly.

matt’s thumb softly caressed your thigh while the rest of his hand squeezed lightly.

“definitely.”

how could you be expected to choose?

yet another around had gone by and it was regrettably your turn to pick a card.

you slowly picked up the card on top of the deck and read the words.

“what does it say?” matt and chris spoke in unison.

you cleared your throat, looking between the two boys on either side, then at everyone else eagerly waiting.

“go into another room with the player of your choice for ten minutes.” you sighed.

“i was hoping someone would get that card. who are you picking, y/n?” nate asked you.

you should skip this round. you should definitely skip this round. but something was telling you that this was your opportunity to finally choose which brother you wanted, just like madi told you.

the choice was too difficult.

but if you were honest, you knew who you really wanted.

so, you went with your gut.

“i pick…”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n this feels so ASS but i love this idea so much so idc. the part two’s for matt and chris will be linked below once they’re written. hope u enjoyed!

p.s PLSSSS follow my tiktok yall 🙏🙏 same username apclyptc ill prob take some requests on there

if you choose matt if you choose chris

© APCYLPTC 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.

[harlotistic]

have you ever thought of muscular MC

Like... Something about claymore wielding airheaded MC does things to me.

I'm sure it'd scratch something in the LL's brains too. Maybe Zayne's mommy issue having ass would dream of just being choked to literal death by the boobies. Sylus would probably love to wrestle and end up in physics breaking positions and end up gasping for air between MC's gargantuan muscular thighs.

Anywaysss, not as 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, but my brain juice is dry and my thighs happens to be thick with nothing to lay upon it

hi anon!! YOU'RE SO REAL ACTUALLY i have never thought about this but i feel like the boys would be so horny for a muscle mommy putting them in their place (believe it or not even xavier despite his dom-ish tendencies) this also made me think about mc pegging them while holding them in a headlock whewwwwww. thank you for planting this seed in my head actually. also i volunteer as tribute to lay upon thine thighs or however the saying goes ♡

muscle mommy hcs

tw. muscled reader, nsfw hcs, all LIs

the first time sylus is eating you out and you instinctively clench your thighs, he swears he felt all his sins be absolved and his soul instantly granted heaven. enveloped in you, tasting you, smelling you, he had never been so hard to the point of hurting in his goddamn life. he would have the most glazed dilated eyes as he goes pussy drunk, rutting the air pathetically the more you grinded on that crazy angled nose slope of his.

zayne would quite literally be the type to attempt to breastfeed from your tits i fear. and at work whenever someone mentions some biological terms for muscles, he might have to go rub one out in the toilet because he keeps thinking of the way your muscles ripple and tighten aroumd him when he's buried deep inside, waist crushed into nothing (because his waist was never there to begin with. body is tea as fuck). if you ever suggested pegging, he may or may not be extra sensitive and start cumming all over the sheets when you do.

xavier would be reluctant to openly agree for you to peg him but halfway through as his head is held in the crook of your bicep and elbows, thrusting into him with his ass smacking against the firm of your thighs. he would cum way too fast and way more than usual too. we're talking like big spurts. aftercare may or may not involve you having to let him fuck you like a rabbit during mating season because he has so much left to give and a huge favour to repay for making him go feral the way you did.

rafayel would be sending memes of being pegged and dommed by you as hints that are definitely anything but subtle. he'd be a literal housewife if you only asked. he would literally be so inspired and reverent of your physique he might make a statue of you based on an intimate polaroid of the view he has when you're giving his a firm thigh job. the way his dick slid against the ridges of your muscles, the way you were strong enough to hold him down when you're riding him, it makes him salivate everytime.

caleb is the type to loveeeee play fighting turned sex because let's be honest, that man is a freak of nature. he'd say he's way stronger than you, wrestling with lesser fear because he knows you can take it. so regardless of the end result, either him holding your thighs down and open as he carves your pussy out with his dick, fingers gripping the muscles and getting impossibly harder in your warm pussy, or you holding his head crushed against the valley of your tits as you bounce on his cock. to him, a win is a win.

[hotheadedhero]

First Date

'Like 'em Big Series'

AN: Wow, wow, WOW! You guys went haywire for 'Like 'em Big', didn't ya? I have yet again been surprised at the popularity of something that started as a joke. Thank you all for your patience and showing the love, it really warms my heart as always 🙏 Without further ado, here's part two ❤️(I'd also like to preface that I haven't been on a first date in years, so I apologise :'])

Part 1

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of ROTTMNT Movie, near peril (again), meddlesome brothers, cute idiots being cute

Returning home after the mind-boggling excursion you endured had tired you out to the point of near collapse. Yet, you couldn’t sleep after everything that happened. Your mind was racing. Not because you were nearly eaten. Not because you had met a giant turtle. Not even because you found that same turtle adorably attractive. No. It’s because you were fool-hardy enough to give him your number and after you embarrassingly called him beautiful, no less. More often than not, your overzealousness has been your downfall and you wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case here.

Universal blessings had other things in mind. The beacons lit, your prayers answered, and hope restored before your weary brain has a chance to sink - a text - and the chime of that first notification is a sweet melody indeed. All of that karmic debt seems to have been paid off. About time. Again, you won’t get too ahead of yourself but this is already a good start. And, so entails days of messaging, sneaking texts on work shifts, leg-kicking with the gushy motions, and downright losing your mind over how sweet this guy is.

As for Raph, this is uncharted territory; a piece of ocean he never dreamed he’d sail because he never thought it would be accessible to someone like him. He finds himself terrified of the mornings, worried that you’ll wake up with your senses and realise who - what - you’re talking to. Such concerns immediately disappear when he opens his phone to see a routine ‘Good morning’ paired with a heart or kiss.

During this time of exchanging pleasantries, he has been falling ever so gracefully for the character that makes up your person. He’s amazed by how bold you are in your messages during the times he shies away out of fear. It’s probably no surprise that a gorgeous lady such as yourself has at least some experience in the field, which makes him all the more nervous. Meanwhile, he’s working with two left feet and terrible advice from his family. Try as they may, he knows better than to listen to them where these things are concerned. The only one who has had experience is their dad and they all know how things turned out with Big Mama. 

Raph reckons he’ll take his chances. If your texting is anything to go off of, he likes to think he’s doing pretty well for himself. That hasn’t stopped his brothers from meddling, however. He expected Leo to poke his nose where he shouldn’t but he didn’t anticipate all of them getting involved. Even now, they’re desperately trying to clammer onto him in an attempt to get his phone. He has the advantage of being much taller than them but, of course, Donatello is resourceful and snatches it with one of his robotic limbs before throwing it to the youngest of the four. Lousy cheater. 

The unspoken rules of the game are the least of his worries when Mikey quickly messages you. He drops the phone as Raphael lunges for him and retrieves it before it hits the ground. Then he sees the extent of the damage dealt by his sibling: he’s asked you out on a date tonight. No no no! The large turtle is mortified! Sure, he’d considered the same proposal for a couple of days now but he wasn’t sure if it was too soon. This is going to make him look like a fool! He’s finished. You’re going to read it and you’re going to ignore it and he’s going to be ruined.

The receipt goes to ‘read’ and, surely, that to be the end of it until he sees you’re formulating a response. He bores holes into his screen. The taunting three-dotted line rises and falls and each second has him in the sweats. His brothers’ heads comically peak past his shell, each invested, placing bets on what your answer is going to be. Whoever had put their money down for a positive result is just that little bit richer. Three words. Three little words that would turn out to be Raphael’s salvation: ‘I’d love to! X’.

The joyous uplift of deliverance soon flees when it truly sinks in. You’ve agreed to go on a date with him. A date. With him. He’s going on a date. With you. Where will he take you? What will you both do? What is he going to wear? He’s desperate enough to call on his brothers’ aid for any input they can provide. After all, he can’t deny that their antics have led to this. Listen, these guys have all watched how much of an impact this has had on him. Sure, they’ll poke their fun but it’s genuinely warming to see their big lug of a brother with that dorky grin on his face. 

After a quick montage of his family hyping him up, going through outfits, and detailing the do’s and don’t’s, he’s finally ready. You both decide to meet on the roof of your apartment complex seeing as the sun will still be out. He double, triple, and quadruple-checks the location on his phone just in case he’s managed to pick the wrong one. As he’s about to check a fifth time, the little door to the side opens and out comes you in an even cuter outfit than the one worn on your first meeting. You, too, are in awe of what stands before you, having not expected him to go through the effort of dressing up at all. It’s nothing striking but it lights up all the parts of your objective brain that make you the size-hungry gremlin you are: a grey, sleeveless hoodie that shows off his arms very nicely. 

Sitting on the roof and people-watching seems to be a good enough pass time until it gets dark. Raphael’s legs hang over the side whilst yours lay to the side of you. He should have made a note of things to talk about. You’ve both already covered basic information over the phone alongside the odd funny video here and there but he’s completely blank now. Crap. He can feel the sweats coming on.

“So, hey,” he hears your voice suddenly, “what’s the highest up you reckon you’ve ever been?”

He knows the answer to that but it’s not an instance he much likes to think about. It would have been during the Kraang invasion years back when he and his brothers plummeted from heights of the sky no person should outside of a plane. That will be a story he keeps to himself. Too deep. He doesn’t want to dampen the mood. 

His brain wracks itself for something else and he says the first thing that comes to mind, “Uh… well, there was the time me and my brothers zip-lined from one building and into a roof pool.”

“No way! That sounds like so much fun!”

The elated look in your eyes makes him smile and his chest inflates with pride. “Yeah, it was! Our friend April even got it on video.”

“Do you have it?” you ask eagerly. “I’d love to see.”

That’s when you scoot closer to him to the point that your arms are brushing. Do you want to see it that badly? Yes. Was this an excuse to get close? You will die at your doorstep before you admit to anything without a lawyer. He sucks his lips in at the contact and looks down at your sparkling face before fumbling for his phone. He’s almost certain he has it somewhere. 

As you’re both watching the video, three sets of eyes have their sights on you. Three pairs of eyes belonging to three incredibly nosy brothers. They’re stood on one of the buildings behind you two, a few floors higher for a good view.

“So, how come we’re spying on Raph and his date?” the one in orange asks keenly.

“Listen, we all know that Raph chokes under pressure and we’re just here to make sure things go smoothly,” the blue-banded turtle responds with a hand to his chest. The other hand grips onto a tarp that seems to be shielding a box. “And I have just the thing to get some romance going.”

Beneath the blanket, Leo unveils a cage of doves all more than ready to be set free. Where, when, and how he managed to get these birds is a mystery but life is full of those. Best not to question his eccentricities. He quietly whispers, “Fly, my pretties,” before turning the latch and throwing a flurry of birdseed in the unsuspecting couple’s direction. 

Large brows furrow above concern. “Aren’t they a little too close to the edge?”

Ah. That might be problematic.

“Oh my gosh,” you laugh, “I think I would have a heart attack zipping along something like that.”

“It’s really not so bad when you get used to it,” Raph chuckles reassuringly. 

“Pft! You’re a lot braver than me.”

You both smile at each other as he puts his phone away. He doesn’t believe that for a second. You were brave enough to give him your number after all. He’s about to say something else when a series of aggressive flaps and coos break him of whatever thought he had. Following, a flock of doves barrages into the two of you. Luckily, he’s a sturdy pillar but the same can’t be said for you. A shrill scream breaks past your lips as you tip over the ledge. There’s a short moment when all that surrounds you is air. Nothing but air and the impending dread of what sits below. You were only joking when you said about dying on your doorstep.

Just as your eyes clench shut in preparation, the breath in your lungs gets knocked out of you when a force catches and cradles you by your gut. This strong force lifts you up and you’re met with an even stronger chest. You slowly take a look up at your saviour and he’s got you in a tight lock against his body. His other hand is clasped onto the roof ledge and he breathes heavily. Raphael swallows hard. That was close. Way too close for comfort.

Not wanting to dawdle over the long drop for much longer, he hoists himself back onto the roof with you in his clutch. The threat of falling diminished. The threat of falling in other ways climbs higher from your stomach. Oh lordy, you’re getting the vapours. As he gently eases you back on your feet, you look up at him with wide eyes.

“I think,” you breathe out, in again to recollect yourself, “maybe, we continue this on the ground.”

“Agreed.”

Thankfully, it’s dark enough that he should be able to waltz around in the public eye without it being too bothersome. From a neighbouring rooftop, there’s a rushed scurry but when he looks, nothing appears to be there. Must have been more of those doves or something. That still begs the question of where they came from but he’ll try not to worry about it.

So, a little bit of a rocky start but it doesn’t appear to have shaken your spirit. You’re a little jittery from the adrenaline, perhaps. That and being in his arms for that short moment made you realise what you’ve been missing out on all this time. You need to get a hold of yourself, woman. For the sake of not ruining this, get a hold of yourself. The slight tremble in your fingertips doesn’t go unnoticed. Luckily, Raph has just the remedy.

He walks you to a park, quiet from day nearing its end, lit up with the gentle hug of streetlamps dotted along the pathways. The setting itself is already enough to coax you back into a level head but curiosity peaks when the mutant urges you to sit on a bench. He asks that you close your eyes before dashing off. Just what is he planning? You’re tempted to take a peak but, respectively, you sit and patiently wait. When he returns, you open your eyes to see him standing in front of you, three hot dogs in one hand, two sodas in the other. 

“It ain’t much but I figured it’ll help,” he admits bashfully. “‘Specially some sugar.”

You blink up at him and shrink down with a shy bat of your lashes. “Thank you.”

Your lips spread into a mile-wide smile as you take the food and drink from him. He sits down beside you and you happily dig in. There must have been a food stand that you had walked past without noticing, yet he noticed. He’s also noticed how greedy it must look for him to have two hot dogs. 

Suddenly conscious of the fact, he clears his throat awkwardly, “I hope it’s okay I got two for myself.”

“Hm?” You look up at him with a mouthful and swallow. “Oh! Have as many as you like.” Your nose scrunches up as you wave him off. “The other night I had about five to myself. Not even with the buns either.”

You laugh at yourself as you take another bite. It sounds like a bizarre way to eat them outside of their intended purpose but when Mother Nature calls, there’s no point in questioning it. Besides, the best part of a hot dog is the Frankfurter. Why waste stomach space on all of that bread? You shrug it off casually but the tall turtle’s attention remains on you as he rallies something up in his head.

“How do you feel about salami?”

The way he asks is gentle, not interrogative but carefully interested with a harboured hope. What an adorable query. You can’t say you have any strong opinions about it but if it’s there in front of you, you know you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. There’s a glimmer in his stare as he awaits your answer and it takes a lot for you to not grin like an idiot.

You glance side to side, pretending to be shifty-like and lean in towards him whilst cupping your mouth. “Once, I ate an entire pack of assorted pepperoni and salamis in one sitting.”

Raph’s eyes sparkle, almost forming into hearts. He doesn’t register how he replies, going purely on automatic as his head wanders off into la la land. His free hand grips onto the side of the bench and he can feel his heart palpitate with a swarm of warmth. Has he just found his soulmate? Is it too soon to think something like that? Does it matter? He’s not too sure he cares now. Those rose-tinted glasses are his new contact lenses and he’s never taking them out.

A few trees over, the eclectic triad of trouble is back at it again trying to formulate their next plan in the ‘Romance for Raph’ operative. Donatello tinkers with something as the other two watch their brother. They have no idea what you said as you leaned into him but it must have been something mind-altering from the way he’s staring off with stars in his eyes.

“Hurry up with that thing, Dee! I wanna hear what they’re talking about.”

“You can’t rush good work,” he states, though he holds up the complete product no more than a second later. “But yes, you may now marvel at my new masterpiece.”

It’s a dinky-looking drone, fitted with the best mic system and soundless heli-propellers this turtle genius can build, small enough that it should be able to soar around unnoticed. Leo and Mikey tussle over who gets to fly the device first, each pulling on the remote control. During their scuffle, they hit a button and it quietly thrums to life. Before Donnie can intervene, the little drone is already flying around in seemingly no point of direction until it nose-dives towards them and crashes into the tree trunk. The entire tree shakes so much that a flurry of birds dart off and head for yourself and Raph.

They sore overhead with such ferocity that you both flail your arms up to cover your heads. Unfortunately, the soda in Raphael’s hand flies up into the air with the abrupt action. It falls onto the pathway but not before spritzing his hands with the fizzy liquid. Great. Now his hands are going to be uncomfortably sticky. What is the darn deal with these birds today? Alfred Hitchcock might have been onto something. The vermin of the sky turns into an afterthought when you spot your date looking over his fingers with a wrinkled frown.

Glancing around the park, you suddenly jump up onto your feet with an idea. You gesture for him to follow after you and lead him to a nearby lake. It’s the only way you could think for him to wash away the sugary beverage. As he gets on his knees and dips his hands in, you opt to stand and keep an eye out for any more winged miscreants. Figuring the coast is clear, you go back to facing the lake with your hands behind your back. 

“It sure looks pretty,” you remark quietly.

Not initially knowing what you’re talking about, Raphael glances up at you. He then follows your gaze back to the lake, taking his hands out to shake them dry. The water ripples from the movement but when it settles, he thinks he understands what you’re talking about. Starlight is often hard to come by in a city such as New York but it seems they have blessed you both with their presence. They twinkle delicately, reflecting off the water and it looks as though they’re dancing, like fireflies in the calm of night. Pretty indeed. He can’t remember the last time he sat back and appreciated something like this if ever he has.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he hears you again, quieter this time, “what made you ask me out on this date?”

His face and the entirety of his body warms. He hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like that but he supposes you would’ve asked sooner or later. It’s only fair that you’d be curious. The palms of his hands press into his knees as he sits on his feet. 

“My brothers kinda had a hand in that. I’d been thinking about doin’ it before that, though!” he quickly rectifies just in case you thought this was completely his family’s doing but you giggle. He chuckles nervously and lowers his sights. “You just seem like someone I’d wanna get to know. Why’d you give me your number?”

“You saved my life that day,” you say as if it’s obvious. He narrows his eyes at you playfully and you figured he’d eventually realise that there’s more to it than that. “Okay, so, maybe there were other reasons.”

This is where your throat fails you and instead of talking, you attempt to motion with your hands. You hold them parallel to one another and map out the air in front of you sideways. Then, you make the same movement but vertically, one hand rising as the other lowers. He isn’t sure what you’re insinuating at first but it soon clicks. Are you referring to his stature? The thing that people usually fear? Nah. Surely not. That’s when it dawns on him. There was a word - one particular word that night which threw him off guard; a word he thought he had imagined but this just about confirms its existence.

With a newfound confidence, he sits up straight and raises a brow at you. “You think I’m beautiful?”

A brash heat burdens your cheeks as they puff out. You’ve certainly dug your grave on this one. How do you even answer? That probably isn’t an issue. Your reaction must be answer enough. With a blown-out breath, you swivel on your feet away from him, not knowing how to verbally respond. Just as you turn, a pebble hits you square on the forehead and knocks you back into the lake. It makes for a mighty splash but an incredibly discomfiting feeling around your body. Your head shoots up with a gasp and you hold your upper body with your hands in the sickly, cold mud, squelching between your fingers like wet clay. If birds had apposable thumbs, you would assume this was their doing considering how the night has gone.

Raphael shoots up to his feet and extends a hand to you, much like how he did when you first met. His face is laced with the same amount of concern as that day. Less hesitant than that instance, you immediately reach out and his fingers engulf your hand just as they did before. He hoists you up onto your feet, looking over you worriedly. You’re soaked head to toe.

What he doesn’t expect is to hear you laugh, “Deja vu?” 

His head cranes to the side but he finds himself smiling sadly when you continue to laugh. An unshakable spirit; that’s something he’s quickly realising you have and it’s admirable, to say the least. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for your body. You hug yourself and shiver, teeth almost chattering. Even summer nights can nip at the skin when drenched in freezing lake water.

In his haste to find a solution, he enacts the first thing that comes to mind without thinking of asking on your behalf. He quickly slips his hoodie off and holds it out to you. It’s probably a little counterproductive since it won’t dry you but it should hopefully shield you from the cold. Just enough to last you the walk home. You bite your tongue as you gratefully take the garment and slip it on. In a generalised state of mind, this is every girl’s dream right here. Your dream. It sits over you in all of its oversized glory like a great big hug. Perfect. It’s a shame to be calling the night to an end here but you both know you won’t be able to completely enjoy yourself with a dripping head.

Those same three figures dash off into the shadows, one sorely guilty for causing such a catastrophe. All Michelangelo had intended to do was throw that rock at Raph to gain his attention. It had a note stuck to it with some cute lines he could have said to you. The last thing he wanted was for it to smack you dead in the face and topple you over. He swears his aim isn’t usually that bad, hence he’ll blame the note for messing with the air dynamics or whatever Donnie called it.

As yourself and Raph journey back to your apartment, he finds himself in a bit of a funk. He tries to keep his enthusiasms up for the remaining minutes you have together but there were a fair share of disasters this evening. Not how he envisioned things panning out. He walks you up to your front door but lingers in the middle. You stop, too, and stride down one, meeting him head-level.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

"Sorry," he sighs as he sits on one of the steps. "This has got to have been the worst first date ever."

His whole body slumps and he hangs his head low in shame, arms resting atop his thighs with his hands dangling limp between his legs. This feeling just can’t seem to shake. There were so many mishaps: you falling off the roof, soda spilling over himself, and to top it all off, you got yourself a nasty bath in muddy water. He wouldn’t blame you if you took his presence as a bad omen. Disaster does seem to follow him and his brothers wherever they go. His eyes suddenly open wide and stare at the floor when he feels a soft cushion of skin against his cheek.

"Actually, it's the best first date I've ever been on," you say and he'd see a large smile on your face had he the strength to look. Removing the hoodie, you hang it over his arm and giggle, "I mean, I might have a fear of birds now but I’ve had a really lovely time. I look forward to the second one."

You peck his cheek once more before slipping off into your apartment, leaving him to sit with eyes like saucers and rosy cheeks. He supposes it wasn’t all bad. There was a lot of laughter. You two found a lot in common with one another and once you got talking, the conversation was easy. There weren’t many cases where he caved under the pressures of those ‘first date’ nerves. He felt comfortable. Really comfortable, in fact. 

Raph blinks down at the hoodie and holds it up to his face. It’s a little damp but the scent of your perfume lingers on the fabric. It smells nice and he hopes he isn’t creepy for being happy about having this until you next see each other. His face hurts from all of this smiling, achy and strained. Painful but a good pain, nonetheless. An experience so new to him. He doesn’t know what to do. His body is running on highs it’s never known before. The burley mutant stands to his feet, hoodie in hand, and does the only thing he can think to do: he dances, blissfully unaware of the three sets of eyes watching from a building across the street.

"Oh, god, he's doing his victory dance right outside her apartment. Can't he save it till later? He's gonna make a fool of himself."

"Aw, but look how happy he is!"

"Indeed. I would say this is a big win for our illustrious leader."

"Hey, don't forget about our win. None of this would have happened without us and that deserves a pizza reward. Am I right, guys?"

The other two nod and mumble in agreement. It’s probably best that they flee the scene before they’re spotted, anyway. They’ll be excited to hear about their brother’s ventures when he returns and, of course, they’ll act as if they haven’t witnessed every moment of it. Take it to the grave, boys. Take it to the grave.

_________________________

I kinda love how the first part of this story was written during a fever and I had to wait until I was ill again to finish this part. Also, have to mention... the comments people!!! You ravenous animals are as crazy as me, I love it. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading these comments and I just had to include some of them here

You are my people and I love all of you so much <3

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite QL Couples* of 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

My only criteria was that the show had to have either aired entirely in 2024 or had the majority of its run in 2024. No other limits at all (except for tumblr's photo limit). Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do! I'd love to see what stuck out to everyone this year 💜

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

Without further ado, I'm going to kick things off with my favorite couples of the year!

♡ Tongrak and Mahasamut (Love Sea)

My darlings. My absolute loves. I knew Fort and Peat were going to deliver something special when Love Sea was announced and I am so glad that I was right. My love for them is as boundless as the sea that bonds them.

♡ Almond and Latte (Knock Knock Boys)

These two snuck up on me something serious. I never expected them to be this sweet and soft and bring such comfort to each other. They were my unexpected delight this year and I'm so happy I got to watch them fall in love.

♡ Yu and Ai (I Saw You in My Dream)

These two snuck up on me too, honestly. Never ever thought I would love them as much as I do considering how late I came into this show, but I cherish them very deeply. They're the sweetest childhood friends to lovers and they love each other so much. I don't think I've ever been prouder of a confession than when Yu finally confessed to Ai.

♡ Ken, Seiji, and Japan (Deep Night)

*Not a couple, but a THROUPLE! 2024 was a year of many, many BL blessings, one of the best of which was the fact that we got CANON POLY SIDES COURTESY OF CHEEWIN! We all hoped, we all prayed, we all looked at the workshop photos and thought 'surely we cannot be wrong', and when it came right down to it, we all got exactly what we wanted! I only wish that we'd gotten more of them.

KenSeijiPan you will always be famous.

♡ Ozone and Pie (Battle of the Writers)

Speaking of wanting more, I cannot believe it took this long for Mark Sorntast to get to kiss a boy on screen but damn, was it worth the wait. I want an entire spin-off of daddy Pie and his puppy Ozone because they were truly the best part of this show.

♡ X and Namping (Every You, Every Me)

Thanks to its format, Every You, Every Me gave us lots of great couples and fun dynamics but X and Namping were my favorites, even though their story ended tragically. The love was brief but it was beautiful and real.

♡ Meiji and Freya (Deep Night)

As if giving us canon poly wasn't enough, Cheewin also decided to bless us with milf yuri and then stacked one more blessing on top and gave them their own spin-off miniseries so we could have more time watching them fall in love. They're beautiful and I love them. This is how it feels to win.

♡ Yuan and Qian (Unknown)

I can't think of anything to say about these two that doesn't involve making dying animal noises and gesturing helplessly and maybe crying so just imagine me doing that to convey how I feel about this couple BECAUSE THAT'S ALL I GOT FAM THAT'S ALL I'M CAPABLE OF I'M SURE SOME OF YA'LL UNDERSTAND

♡ Tai x Kram (Two Worlds)

These are by far my favorite roles Max and Nat have played to date. The utter soulmates of it all. The every version of me will love every version of you in every universe of it all. Perfection. I only wish the show had been longer so their love really got a chance to breathe.

♡ Anin and Pin (The Loyal Pin)

Now, if a love ever got a chance to breathe, it was this love. They made you feel it. The yearning, the joy, the sweetness, all of it. We followed it all the way from childhood and it was such a satisfying experience. I will always have a soft spot for couples that are deranged about each other, however loudly or quietly they may go about it, and my girls are no exception.

♡ Phee and Non (Dead Friend Forever)

*scream singing* WE COULD'VE HAD IT ALLLLLLLL, ROLLING IN THE DEEEEEEEEP *cries on the floor*

♡ Tan and Fang (We Are)

AouBoom are never not a delight when they're on screen together, and TanFang were a delight in a veritable sea of delights. They got together early on and spent the rest of the show giving nothing but the best most delicious established couple goodness.

♡ Muenfah and Teerak (Your Sky)

At the time of writing we've only had these two for a few weeks but that's more than enough time for their adorable sweetness to land them on this list. They're darling. The relationship may be fake (for now) but the love is real.

♡ Sun and Junior (Caged Again)

The same goes for these two, and isn't that just the surprise of the year? HOW DID THE PANTHER AND PENGUIN TURN INTO PEOPLE SHOW END UP GIVING US SUCH AN ADORABLE COUPLE?

♡ Shao Peng and Zi Xiang (See Your Love)

They're just so soft and so gentle and they make each other feel heard and understood and I love them so much. Their boyfriend era may actually kill me.

♡ Jack and Joke (Jack & Joker)

*gently shakes Yin and War* Would giving us just a little more horny, loving boyfriend era and fewer horrors have been so hard? Do ya'll think you can get away with it because you're so pretty and so beloved?

Because they are. And they can actually. And they did. I adore them.

♡ Yak and Dee (Wandee Goodday)

One of my favorite things in this life is when a fake relationship slowly turns into a real relationship and two people who think they can be casual about each other are actually completely incapable of being so. Yak and Dee gave me exactly that and I love them for it.

♡ Oyei and Cher (Wandee Goodday)

Another side couple for which I would absolutely love a spin-off, but we did get to see them have their wedding (the first GMMTV wedding since the marriage equality bill was passed!) which is just as good. The love they have for each other, the support they give each other is top tier. They have my heart.

♡ God and Diew (Monster Next Door)

If I were to give an award for amazing communication between a couple, I would absolutely be giving it to these two. It was so refreshing to see them not only love and support each other, but talk and listen to each other. They were a delight.

♡ Myung Ha and Yeo Woon (Love for Love's Sake)

They were so sweet and so sad and they saved each other by loving each other so much that it broke reality and I just love them with my entire soul.

♡ San and Vee (Century of Love)

When this was airing I talked a lot about how it didn't actually matter whether Vee was Wad or not and that what mattered was San making a choice but for the record? Vee was totally Wad. He and San were SOULMATES!

♡ Neil and Sea (First Note of Love)

What if a couple was so gentle and soft that it made you wanna cry? What if they saved each other with music? What if they made each other brave?

♡ Moo and Kang (Only Boo!)

My darling boys. My sweetest most adorable boys who make me wanna curl into a ball and cry happy tears because I adore them so much. Moo's singular desire in this life part from becoming an idol is to save up enough money to marry Kang and NOW HE CAN AND I'M IN MY FEELINGS ABOUT IT EVEN MONTHS LATER.

♡ Karan and Achi (Cherry Magic Th)

They're perfect. In every conceivable way. Their love was just so lovely, it was such a joy. Everything about it and about them was so lovely to watch.

♡ Haruki x Jin (Our Youth)

These two have so much potential to hurt me. In fact, I'm almost certain that they will. But they just --*gestures helplessly*--you know? They hit exactly right for me.

[swanimagines]

MELODY OF THE NIGHT | MORPHEUS

Summary: You've been distancing yourself from Morpheus, because you know he's an Endless and can't be romantically involved with humans, but you can't bear being with him while knowing you can't have him. He comes over to your house and demands to know what's the matter. It ends unexpectedly.

It had been weeks. You had known it was forbidden for Endless to be romantically involved with mortals, but your stupid heart had still developed feelings for him. It had been too painful to endure, so you willed yourself not to visit The Dreaming anymore, and avoided Morpheus in your dreams as well - not that you actually had the power to do that, but Morpheus knew when someone didn't want him to appear so he didn't.

When your doorbell had rang, you had to admit that you hadn't expected who was on the other side of the door, even when it should have been obvious. Morpheus stood there, looking as gorgeous as always. Compared to you - messy hair, looking like you didn't sleep properly, in your t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Hi, um... sorry, I'm kind of busy here," you mumbled to him, not really even looking at him.

Morpheus sighed, clearly knowing it was a lie. "May I come in?"

It wasn't really a question, but you still nodded. He came into your apartment and closed the door behind himself. You tapped your tea mug nervously as you stood in front of him. You didn't know what to say to him, really. You were embarrassed, angry, and frustrated all at once. Your emotions made you feel out of control, which in turn only increased your frustration and your embarrassment.

"I do not understand why you will not talk to me," Morpheus said, his voice soft. He looked hurt, or maybe just disappointed.

His words hit you like a hammer. You took a deep breath. "Because I... I just... I can't visit you anymore."

He frowned. "Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it." you replied quickly. If you told him, you knew he'd sigh and explain what could happen. He would also say he doesn't love you back.

This time, Morpheus didn't press any further, but he did look upset. He stayed silent after that for several minutes. Eventually, he spoke again. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" you exclaimed. You shook your head, trying to get some of your thoughts together. "No, it's... it's me."

Morpheus moved closer to you. "Then why..."

"Just leave me alone," you snapped. "I told you I don't want to talk about it, and I mean it."

"But-" he started, but you cut him off.

"Dream, please, stop," you pleaded. "You've already caused enough trouble by showing up here. Just go away."

"I do not understand," he whispered. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," you muttered. "And I can't let anything to happen, I can't control... just leave me alone."

Morpheus seemed truly confused now. He didn't seem angry, though, and he didn't argue. He just continued to stare at you, his expression unreadable. "You are one of the first humans I consider a friend. I need to know-"

Next thing you didn't even think about doing. Your feelings just rushed forward, spilling over and you grabbed his coat and tugged him close and pressed your lips against his.

Morpheus froze, just as you had expected and you pulled back before he had a chance to, breaking off the kiss. You stared into his eyes, panting slightly. "This is why I've been avoiding you," your voice broke mid-sentence, tears now cascading over your cheeks. "I know it's wrong, we can't be together."

"What?" Morpheus asked, bewildered.

"I love you," you admitted. It felt like the hardest sentence you ever uttered. "I can't keep it in, I just keep thinking about how I want to wake up with you, and I dream about you all the time, and I hate myself for feeling this way. I ruined our friendship the moment I developed those feelings for you, and I'm sorry, but I can't stop loving you, and I can't bear to see your disappointment in me."

Morpheus stared at you for a long moment, watching you sniffling in front of him, before you felt a hand sliding down your cheek and wiping away your tears. "Where did you hear we could not be together?" he asked, gently.

"I... I found it in a book. You had fallen in love with a woman named Nada and the Sun punished her for it."

Morpheus was quiet as he thought about that. "It is true," he then said. "But rules have changed since then. You are not allowed to rule The Dreaming with me or marry me until you are dead, but I am allowed to love you."

His words echoed in your head for a moment before you registered them, and looked up at him. "What?"

"I have loved you ever since we first met," he explained. "I cannot help it. I will never stop. Even if you stop talking to me, even if you stop visiting me, I will always love you. I needed to know if I can fix our friendship, but I did not know you feel the same way about me, and that is why you stopped visiting me."

You blinked at him, almost thinking this was a dream... or at least a daydream. But it felt too real to be one - and in dreams, you knew Morpheus would be controlling what he'd say."

"So you love me?" you asked hesitantly.

Morpheus nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do love you."

You stared at him for a few moments longer, unsure what to say, before you felt your lips growing into a wide smile. "Well, I love you too," you said, pressing another kiss on his lips, and this time, he returned it.

And on that moment, you knew it - this was going to work. Even though it was a risk to love him, you were willing to take it - because you believed he deserved your love more than anyone else in the world.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[undreaming-fanfiction]

As a crazy cat lady, may I offfer...

Eddie who has always loved cats, how free and soft and elegant they are, how they purr and close their eyes in affection, how they make him forget all his worries and stress. He's loved them ever since a neighbor's cat found him crying behind the trailer after he got bullied for his new haircut, the last gift from his shitty dad before Eddie got whisked away by the social services. The cat ignored his sniffling and jumped in his lap, plopping herself over the bony knees and thin thighs, and when she started rubbing her face against his scraped palm, Eddie felt complete.

He can't adopt one yet because he lives with Wayne who is allergic. Wayne offers to take antihistamines but Eddie refuses, he doesn't want to inconvenience him in his own home. Still, he dreams of one day sometime in the future, a small apartment of his own and at least two cats who will greet him when he comes home.

Eddie finds himself volunteering in a shelter and when a new cat café opens, he jumps at the opportunity. He is hired and spends his days taking of their cat ensemble and preparing delicious coffees. Cats help him be less jittery and more grounded, so it's a win win. Eddie loves this job.

Enter Steve Harrington, an insanely handsome man who stops by to make a reservation. Eddie is his usual flirty self, although he expects Steve will bring a date and that's the end of that. But then Steve leans to Eddie and asks: "Listen, uh...I will need some help."

Suppressing an internal groan, Eddie asks: "what, do you need me to drop an engagement ring into the coffee or something? Because can do, but it needs to be sanitized first."

"Oh no. Not that, no..." Steve runs his fingers through his hair and even though it looks like a nervous gesture, Eddie is seconds away from a cuteness induced nosebleed. "Not at all. I just...I have a little sister, you know? I mean, my adoptive dad is fostering her and she's the kindest girl you've met, but she had it rough in her original family. Apparently there was something involving animals and...she loves cats so much, but is terrified of hurting them. She would never!" he clarifies when he sees a frown forming on Eddie's forehead. "It's just that whenever she showed affection to any animal, her biological father made sure it would get hurt or at least chased away. And that's gone, that man is in jail and I just...I want to show her that it's okay to love animals again. That she can pet a purring cat without worrying about its safety."

Eddie just stares at him with mouth open. "That's...wow," he says. "Sorry. Processing."

Steve does the hair thing again and laughs and Eddie thinks that this man deserves a brother of the year award, yep, he'll ask Gareth to 3D print one right fucking now. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, but I had to be honest because this is a big deal to her. To me as well. Just...listen, I like cats a lot, but I'm not the best at interpreting what they mean, their body language and all that. And I really need Jane to have someone here that can tell her what to do, when she's doing a good job...someone who will protect the kitties if she messes up. Her words. I know it's a lot to ask, but..."

But Eddie shushes him. "Say no more, big boy. I'll be here and I'll give the young lady the cat experience of a lifetime."

Eddie used to think he couldn't love his job any more. But with Jane's uncertain smile and big eyes, her incredulous squeal when a cat chose her for the first time, when she kept asking Eddie for specifics of each cat in his care - "which one is more shy, which one likes to be picked up, which one is a picky eater?" - he thinks he's finally found his calling. Steve beams at him and comes back the next day with a bag of approved cat treats for the cats and a box of chocolates for Eddie as a thank you, then asks him out for a dinner - "if that is even appropriate, shit, sorry, I don't want you to feel pressured or something, this is your job, I get it, but I just really admire you and you were amazing to Jane, uh, and the stuff you say about cats is so interesting I'd just love to hear more". Eddie's heart flutters like the traitor it is and he thinks - maybe this is someone I could adopt a cat with one day.

And unsurprisingly, he's right.

[siderealcity]

More Dawntrail narrative thoughts, this time about the Golden City. Spoilers below.

There are several layers to the Golden City as a plot device in Dawntrail, and I think they're interesting enough to just unpack them all and look at them.

The first time we hear the term, it's from Hades in Endwalker:

"Tell me, have you been to the ruins beneath the waters of the Bounty? Or the treasure islands beyond the frozen waters of Blindfrost, in Othard's north? The fabled golden cities of the New World? The sacred sites of the forgotten people of the south sea isles?"

It's telling that he groups that with the sacred sites of the south sea isles. The plot later tells us that they are explicitly connected to one another, but why does it call them "citiies," plural? Where's the other one, Hades?

(Also, we haven't yet been to the treasure islands in the north, but every one of those locations in the quote above has to do with cross-rift travel. Every. One. So, that may be something we see again later.)

But apart from their lore and plot significance (and potential foreshadowing), the Golden City is, from the first time we hear of it, a lure. Bait, dangled before an explorer, enticing them to go onward. It is, for lack of a better word, a promise of things to come. In the specific case in Endwalker, it's a promise that your story isn't over yet, there's still more to come. Even though you are, at that moment, standing in front of the amassed dead of countless worlds. Death is not the end, it's the beginning of new life.

The second time we hear the term, it's from Wuk Lamat. Who is, again, using it to entice us to join her. We don't know at that point that her actual title is, in fact, Promise. And that is significant.

It is, likewise, the bait for Krile's involvement in the story. The thing she knew her grandfather had been asked to study, the secret he'd kept out of the records of the Students, the promise of a connection. To the past, to someone she loved who is now gone.

But then there's the Rite of Succession. And it changes the meaning of the plot device entirely.

The Rite is structured to follow the Tulliyolal saga--the journey Gulool Ja Ja undertook, over the course of who knows how many years, to unify the peoples of Tural into a single nation. A journey which notably has nothing to do with the Golden City. To the Turali, it's a fairy tale. It is so detached from the story of Gulool Ja Ja that Koana immediately has to ask if the city being the final goal means his father actually has some proof it exists.

The Rite itself, as Gulool Ja Ja later admits to us, is meant to be instructional for his children. They are not meant to simply find and cross the finish line, they're supposed to be learning how to be the rulers of Tural.

As we complete feats in the rite, we are awarded stories of the Golden City by each of the races in Yok Tural. And they all follow a significant pattern: The Golden City was the literal dream of the Yok Huy. The conquerers of every single people in southern Tural. The stories we are given are the stories shared by colonized people of their oppressors.

The conquest of Yok Tural is mentioned repeatedly. Every group we meet was displaced and enslaved by the giants during their empire, and the ultimate goal of that empire was to find the Golden City--a paradise of eternal life without pain or suffering. It is at this point that the Golden City becomes a warning. It is the promise of self-destruction. Searching for it ultimately toppled the Yok Huy empire and changed the giants forever. It displaced and disrupted numerous cultures and started centuries of war.

It is, ultimately, the reason why Gulool Ja Ja ever had to play the role of peacemaker and unifier in the first place. The divide-and-conquer tactics employed by the Yok Huy created every problem he set out to solve.

Why did he choose to make it the final goal of the Rite of Succession? A place he famously did not find before becoming Dawnservant? Was it, perhaps, as a lesson to his children, his Promises? Especially his son Zoraal Ja who had dreams of empire?

But interestingly, the Golden City was also set forth as the specific goal for Erenville to find by his mother. Cahciua wasn't present in the flashbacks to Galuf and Gulool Ja Ja and Kettenram viewing the gate, but we know that she met them afterward, and had Erenville with her. Was she with them the first time they'd found the gate? I have to think she was. The only people who seem to have known for sure about it, among Gulool Ja Ja's circle of friends and allies, were the explorers. The ones who would have been interested in searching for it purely for the joy of discovery.

I think it's safe to say that for Cahciua, at least at the time that she gives her son his quest, the Golden City is the Almost Impossible Dream. One that can, in fact, be found, but crucially, not alone. The Yok Huy, who searched for it for generations, and crushed everyone around them trying to get inside, had it in their possession all along. But they never even saw the gate. It took Gulool Ja Ja, who had friends to help him, who actually discovered the way in. It is the promise of discovery through love and fellowship, for her only son who was withdrawn and antisocial.

And then we actually find it.

It is not an accident that the way to reach the Golden City is through a cenotaph of lost hope. We literally pass through waters littered with the bodies of children who were never born--promises never fulfilled--to get to its gate.

And it's eating the Yok Huy ruin. The electrope spreads out from the gate like an infection, over-writing the Yok Huy stonework, erasing their culture.

And it's still... oddly beautiful? But in the way a poisonous mushroom is beautiful.

And it's closed. We don't go through it at this point, though we walk right up to the seal on the doorway. Because we're alive.

We're told by Erenville that many people have sought the Golden City, never to return. And of course they didn't.

Because this is the gateway to death.

Zoraal Ja is the first person we actually see go through it. The False Promise. Just to reinforce that this is, in fact, Zoraal Ja's role, Sareel Ja leads him to the gate and hands him the key with a speech that is wholly constructed of the same false platitudes about Zoraal Ja's magical birthright that have driven Zoraal Ja to be this self-destructive and miserable in the first place. And we can see how much the speech upsets Zoraal Ja, who just lost the contest to both his siblings. He knows every word of his inherent greatness and destiny is a lie. Sareel Ja hands him the key, and he grips it like it might be a bludgeon without even looking at it. And the second time Sareel Ja makes a "Resilient Son" speech, Zoraal Ja literally stabs him in the back.

Having skipped all the lessons and warnings about the danger of pursuing death and destruction, Zoraal Ja walks through its front door.

And I don't think it's accidental that the dome appears in Xak Tural, even though the gate itself is located in Yak T'el, far to the south. Xak Tural is the land that defeated the Yok Huy advance without a single battle. The unconquerable land. This is the part of Tulliyolal that Gulool Ja Ja didn't have to fix because it was never broken in the first place. They very notably do not live in the segregated societies the people of the south do, because nobody imposed that on them. The towns we see are a mix of races living together, and probably served as the inspiration for Gulool Ja Ja to build Tulliyolal in the first place, differing people pursuing communal and sometimes conflicting interests together. These are the people Zoraal Ja has been rambling about nonsensically, "teaching the value of peace by the misery of war." The ones who don't need Tulliyolal, but merely want to be part of it.

He can make his mark here because his father never did.

When the dome appears over Yyasulani, we, the players, know it's Zoraal Ja's passage through the gate that caused it, but the characters don't learn this until after he's brutally slaughtered people. We players see the sequence of events as: Zoraal Ja, the Promise of Death, walks into the land of death and carries it out with him. But the characters are instead following the trail of death back to the land of the dead. We don't enter Alexandria through the Golden City. Not at first. We enter it through a swathe of destruction and desolation and a storm that never ends. That's our first view of it. The promise of ruin. We do not see the paradise that led the Yok Huy to their doom until after we know that Sphene, like the Yok Huy, is willing to lay waste to the lives around her to have her Golden City.

And then we have the vision.

I don't think it's an accident that the only people who have ever seen anything come out of the gate to the Golden City are the Warrior of Light, Gulool Ja Ja, Kettenram, Galuf, and indirectly Cahciua. All characters who inherently understand that life comes from death and the balance between them is vital. And it's symbolically significant that it's a child who is delivered from the land of the dead. Her parents don't come with her. The dead don't get to return, we get new life instead.

And then we go there. And it looks like Amaurot.

We call it Living Memory, but the resemblance to Amaurot, and the knowledge of what's actually here means that we immediately understand the lie. The Golden City, the cloud, the twelfth level of Everkeep, all of it has always been a false promise. Zoraal Ja, the False Promise, walked into the land of False Promises and became its king.

And Sphene, the Queen of False Promises, has always had the impossible task of keeping the dead alive.

As we make our way through Living Memory, it's notable that what we actually do is remove the beautiful, golden veneer from the land of the dead. The city is still there when we're done with it. We walk back outside through its gate. We do not have the power to remove death any more than we could destroy despair. But we take the lie out of it, we free the stolen life force to become life again. It's now just dead. No more promises of paradise or ruin to fulfill.

[was-that-a-pun]

Hear me out!Hear me out!....What if Susan or Greg (may both) fall in the dough instead of Jack and become Concept!Doey. Honestly, it can be linked to the Detective Susan au cuz in the process of saving Jack, they sacrifice themselves ...

I hear you and I love you.

This took me so long to decide on how this au would go but I finally settled on something. I think it's its own separate thing from the detective au.

Okay so in this AU Susan and George are standing closer to Jack during the tour, close enough for Susan to hear the metal stressing when Jack leans against the handrail. She's starting to say something when it gives and she jolts forward grabbing him and tossing him back onto the walkway but falling herself. George grabs her arm but the momentum and weight pull him right over the edge with her.

Chaos, sobbing, alarms, a bunch of press releases from Playtime about this unfortunate tragedy and their efforts to ensure nothing like this ever happens again.

Jack, once all is said and done, is released to Playcare and joins the other orphans. Michael takes him under his wing cause of course he does he's like that with nearly all the new kids. Kevin also bonds with him. While Jack isn't as laid back as Joseph is he also doesn't hold any accidents or outbursts Kevin might have against him and continuously seeks him out to play with.

Some time later Jack is pulled from Playcare by a group of scientists to 'help them' with something they wont elaborate on and he's escorted to a new area he's never been to before and told they just need him to go into this room here.

This is a lot sooner than 1322 Report: Jack vhs happens in canon, since with two full grown adults making up concept!Doey they're much more stable without needing to add anyone else into the mix. But this is still soon enough after the accident. They've only barely started to pull themselves together and are struggling to sort out what parts of them is who and what now is mixed too much into the whole and how to think.

“Um… Hi, um...Doey?!”

*shifting sound no reaction*

“The doctors said my mom and dad would be here? Do you know where they are Doey?...mr.doey >_>”

*Susan and George’s thoughts start to align that the voice talking to them is familiar and all their attention goes into turning their head to look at him*

“Can I tell you a secret though? I think they got mixed up I...I know what happened. I know mom and dad are gone now. I miss them though Mr. Doey. I shoulda stayed closer to em, shoulda listened better. I *sniffle* I know it was my fault.”

*Finally manages to look at him and recognize that this is definitely their son. Immediately starts struggling to move toward him wanting to comfort him*

“J-jackie?!”

“I- yeah! That’s what my mom calls me! How did you know?”

*struggling and sloshing to get off the hospital bed and closer to him*

“Dad – Mom – me. Not – gone...here we’re – here”

*Jack is silent as he tries to sort out what they mean, not running as they slog toward him.*

“our bbbooyyy”

*It finally clicks for him and he’s instantly tearing up*

“Wait but you, how, mom? Dad? Both of you are?”

*Just before they can put a hand to his cheek and pull him into a hug an alarm sounds and the room fills with red smoke in a rush, Jack drops almost instantly and is rushed out by gas masked employees while Doey rages and tries to keep them from taking him.*

Jack is returned to Playcare like nothing had happened, he knows it wasn’t a dream though and tells Matthew and Kevin what happened and that he’d gonna get out and find him parents.

They assume it’s the usual fantasy kids tend to have when they’re first orphaned, your dead parents turning out not to actually be dead (though turning into your favorite toy is a new spin) and humor him. Matthew encourages him not to do anything too dangerous while Kevin helps him to plan his escape (partially because if he’s involved he can help the kid from getting hurt or in too much trouble)

The rest plays out a lot like @universalrainbows Toy Player saves Jack side AU with Doey escaping containment and sneaking around the edges of Playcare for awhile (meeting and starting friendships with other characters like Miss Delight who gives them updates on Jack and Dogday who even before them had fed the boys a few tips on how to get out. Catnap is still a danger and they avoid him at all costs) When Jack, Matthew, and Kevin escape Playcare they’re almost waiting for them (much to Matthew and Kevin's' surprise once they find out Jack was right) and of course even before they see these two other boys they’ve pulled an ‘it’s free real estate’ and designated them as bonus son’s.

Escape proves difficult, but they’re able to find areas in the caverns where they can stay relatively safe and keep the boys healthy, then start quietly saving more toys and children that they can slip through the cracks of Playtime's notice.

By the time of the Hour Of Joy they’ve established an early safe haven and food sources (I didn’t come up with how so we’re just gonna gloss over that) and by the time of the current game Safe Haven in the location we know it is much more populated by a mix of toys and young adults who had once been orphans and is much more stable and better defended.

[x0cup1dluv]

SHADOW OF DESIRE

Mafia!jungkook x introvert!reader

Info:

Kim y/n: age 20, introvert, anxiety, future songwriter.

Jeon Jungkook: age 22, confident, manwhore, mafia son.

Both enrolled into Yonsei University.

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Warnings: Smut!!!! Dark romance, abuse, toxic relationship, yearning (a man who yearns is a man who earns), smut smut smut smut, bullying, deals, smoking, smut smut smut, virginity lost, smooth sex, rough sex, blood from virginity, etc….

————————

Please be cautious because some themes may be suggestive!

This is my first story I’ve written and there’s gonna be multiple chapters!!!!

It was November 4th 2025. The time was currently 11:43 pm. I have my first day at my new college tomorrow since i transferred. I am so nervous.

I've suffered from really bad anxiety ever since freshman year. I'm on medication but we all know anxiety never truly goes away...

Every time I had anything come up where social interaction was involved I would panic.

Currently, I'm laying in bed looking at the ceiling. I can't stop thinking about tomorrow. What are people gonna think of me? Will I get bullied just like high-school? Oh gosh! People are gonna stare at me while I introduce myself!

Fuck.

I've got to get a hold of myself.

My life can't go on like this.

I turn to the side to get into a more comfortable position to fall asleep.

And around 25 minutes later, I did thank god.

————

I wake up to the sound of my alarm which is at 7:30 am. My class is at 9:15 but I like to get a good start of my day.

I walk to my small kitchen in my studio apartment.

I love my apartment. It's very cozy to me and I love my view of Seoul.

Is it the best apartment I could dream of? No. But it works as I am a college student.

I'm currently trying to get my degree in literature. I love writing and my goal is to become a songwriter and eventually maybe even a producer.

I know I could've avoided college with that job choice. Everyone tells me that. But I just didn't want to miss out on college since people hype it up so much.

I get my matcha and drink it sitting in my chair looking out to the city.

At around 8:00 am I get changed into my uniform before packing my bag. I pop my anxiety medicine in my bag just incase.

Fast forward, it's now 8:15 and I leave my house to get to the train stop. The walk to the subway station is about 15 minutes and I would get to the university around 8:45.

————

I step onto the Yonsei university campus. Gosh it's even more beautiful than I could imagine. It looks like a castle and everything is so gorgeous.

I go to check in and get directions to my class which was easy to navigate.

Once I walk in, I see people all talking to each other. Which was weird to me cause my previous college, no one really talked we all just wanted to get our diploma and leave.

I sit in a non-occupied seat in the 4th row of the class.

As I'm unpacking my bag to get all my stationary out I see 3 girls walk up to my desk.

"Oh! You must be new here?"

A random girl was talking to me? She had longer black hair and was very petite. She was pretty. But I didn't get a good vibe from her. She also had 2 little minions standing behind her giggling.

My eyes widen as I look up at her. "Uh- yeah I just transferred." I say nervously.

"Oh well I hate to break it to you...but uhm that's mg seat." She says pointing her finger at my desk.

"I will move." I say putting my book back in my bag.

"Hey! You should at least apologize for being so oblivious! Do you even know who she is?" One of her minions speaks to me. She's wearing a white beanie with yellow knee high socks and white heels.

I look back at the main girl in the middle "Sorry, I don't recognize you. Who are you?"

She scoffs. "Uhm hello? I'm Karina. Doesn't ring a bell? Guess not to low lives. Well just know my dad owns many companies in South Korea so I'm a pretty big deal." She gives me a creepy looking smile.

I nod my head. "Oh nice...well I'll get going now."

"Wow how pathetic are you? You won't even properly introduce yourself?"

I stand up with my bag and look at her. "Sorry I-"

"Leave her alone." A more masculine voice comes from behind the girls. He was tall, muscular and had dark features. Scared me actually.

"Oh my gosh Jungkook, you're defending her?" Winter asks him.

"She's new here give her a break." He looks me up and down.

"Whatever waste of my time anyway." Karina and her minions leave to go find another seat.

I sit back down and put my stuff back out. Ignoring Jungkook.

"A thank you would be polite."

I look up at him. "T- Thanks."

He scoffs and walks off.

—————

After class I grab my bags to head back to my apartment.

Once I get home I immediately start on my homework just to get it out of the way.

I had some ramen for dinner. I'm pretty short on money so cheaper foods is all I can really afford in the meantime.

Hours later and I lay in my bed thinking about jungkook and why he would defend me?

I guess we will never know....

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HII GUYSSS!!!

What do yall think of this first chapter? This is my first wattpad story so I hope you all enjoy it!!! Comments and criticisms are really appreciated. I'm currently planning out the next chapter.

[sideblog-ver3]

spider webs (18+)

i need spider-man/peter parker. gosh like so badly. wish i involved more webbing concept, but if i wrote more it would end so horribly. first full smut fic, so go easy one me. also this is for adult peter parker so no marvel peter (kinda had ps5!peter in mind) don’t think too much, just enjoy the ride my friends (WC: 2.1K) dividers @firefly-graphics

reader with a vagina, oral (f), slight bondage (webbing)

vampires and boobs (my other fic)

peter parker and spider-man are two different people.

peter parker is a kind, scientifically smart, nerdy guy. he helps his aunt may at f.e.a.s.t. in his spare time, he works as a physics teacher for a high school in brooklyn, and he’s the best boyfriend you could have.

now spider-man is a part of peter, but they are two different people. he’s the friendly neighborhood spider-man, the amazing spider-man, the spectacular spider-man and any other adjective jameson could type up for the daily bugle. he was a wall-crawler webbing up the bad guys while still looking out for the little people. he had a sharp tongue with a snappy quip ready to fly, easy going personality for a friendly chat, and also could be deathly serious when the time calls for it.

he was clad in red and blue spandex that hugged all of him nicely. his biceps showing he could hold up a bus, his pecs and abs showing… he’s a stone wall, and his ass and other parts show that his partner is very lucky.

you get jealous sometimes when you see videos of spider-man swinging around, anyone could see what a hot body and sexy personality he has. where as when peter’s around he’s covered in two layers or loose clothing, anything that could cover up his physic. you wish he’d show his muscles off as peter parker, telling people he’s brains and brawn.

but you love him either way.

at least if anyone oogles at your boyfriend they don’t get the opportunity to see the godly body beneath the flannels and sweaters. oh! and another thing you love about spider-man, the webs. and the suit. mask and suit.

you’ve told peter before, “if you ever want to role play one night, i’ve always dreamed of spider-man webbing me up and using me however he chooses.” peter just gulped and took that information nervously.

that was two months ago. you weren’t expecting anything right away, it’s not like your sex lives were bad to begin with. peter’s got good stamina, able to go a couple rounds when you’re tired after the second go. it’s just that he’s been busier with patrol and work, you as well, just not piled high like peter always does. you just miss those long nights of kissing and touching, moaning into each other's mouths or skin. peter’s hands rising goosebumps in their trail, your fingers curled into his growing hair to give firm tugs as he pleasures you with his fingers or tongue.

so when peter climbed through your shared bedroom window at midnight you didn’t think he would want to do any fooling around. you’d just check for any harsh injuries, he’d shower and then you’d both fall asleep in each other’s hold.

but not tonight.

tonight, peter climbed through the window like usual, a few cuts to his suit but no broken skin or bones. he flipped the bottom of his mask up so it would sit on his nose bridge, tip of his nose to his chin were the only visible parts of skin.

you kept a hood gaze on his slow steps, seeing how he licked his lips. he stood at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips. your legs shifted under the blankets and your eyes kept wandering.

“i heard from a little birdie that you’ve been in need of spider-man’s help. and what kind of hero would i be if i didn’t come to the rescue?”

he rounded the corner of the bed, his right hand gliding just beside the outline of your legs. “what seems to be the problem, miss?”

you took a swallow, knowing your fantasy was gonna come true. “i- i can’t make myself cum. my fingers aren’t enough.” giving your best doe eyes, knowing they always work on peter.

he hummed, “well, i don’t mean to brag, but i’ve been told i know the best solution to that problem. got a technique named after me.”

that made you break character for a second, “oh yeah?” a slight giggle in your voice. “what’s this technique called?”

his pink lips quirked to a smirk, “spider tingle. mostly involves tongue.” your breathing picked up.

“could- could you do that? or- or however you want, can take me in any position. i just want to cum.”

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll take good care of you. now i’m gonna need you to put your wrist against the headboard.” your heart picked up.

slowly you pushed your arms up and then, “let’s take off this shirt first. gonna be difficult in a minute.”

spider-man held the hem of your sleep shirt and waited for a nod from you before pulling it over your head and off your body. waist up completely exposed for him. “you’re a gorgeous girl.” his gloves hands roaming over your doughy skin, a shaky gasp slips free.

he pushed your arms into a comfortable position before spraying a layer of web fluid to glue your wrist flat. “if you get uncomfortable just tell me and i’ll rip them off.” and you could only nod with an open mouth.

“don’t be afraid to be vocal. it encourages me.”

he pressed his lips into a kiss upon your left cheek then your right. he pulled back and you could see his act breaking for a second, “this okay? feel safe?”

you nodded but he insisted, “words, pretty. i need the words.” “yes. i’m safe.” he smiled happily, “good.” and he leaned in so he finally gave you a proper kiss.

it was sweet and slow, his top lip covering yours. the tip of his nose bumping into your cheek, a gloved hand caressing the empty side, his thumb swiping under your eye. you followed his leaving lips, chasing for more, struggling against your restraints. a quiet groan and whimper at not being able to reach for your boyfriend.

a teasing chuckle from his slick lips, his fingers held your jaw, “be a good girl and spread those legs for me.”

and your legs separated without any resistance, you could feel the wetness building on your panties. spider-man pressed sloppy, wet kisses from your collarbone to each breast before going down the valley. his hands were at your sides, sliding down your figure as his lips were walking the trail down south. your chest pushed forward and you moaned at the tingles he was causing, you kept forgetting you didn’t have access to your hands and it made you a bit angry.

“you're such a good girl for spider-man. do i get to keep you after this?” pressing a lingering kiss just above the band of your red and blue panties. a pair you bought so you could fluster peter, and they work magnificently.

you moaned, “i’m all yours, spider-man. i’ll be your little toy if you want.”

he kissed over the fabric and hummed, “i’m one lucky hero.” his slender fingers curled into the elastic band and started tugging down. you pushed your hips up to help and he slid the fabric slowly down your thighs, still leaving parted kisses on your body.

the underwear was off your body and thrown to the floor, completely bare for the clothed web-slinger. you didn’t realize how vulnerable it was be in this light, your legs shutting themselves. but spider-man gripped your knees and easily kept them from closing off for him.

“nothing to worry about, pretty girl. i’m gonna take real good care of you.”

he moved to lay on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and his head was now in front of your slick center. he gripped your outer thighs as he pressed some more quick kisses on your high inner thigh, just missing the place you desperately needed him.

“spidey, please. i- i- i need your mouth. please.” pleading for any relief from being pent up.

he kisses your mound, “only cause you said please,” and then his lips were wrapped on your pussy.

you sighed dreamily at the familiar caress, head thrown into the headboard with your chest arching into the air. breast bouncing with each quick breath followed by a deep inhale.

the low moans from peter’s mouth vibrate from your stomach to your heart. the nylon of his gloves, your version of silk on heated skin. the heels of your feet moving to dig into his shoulder blades, unconsciously trying to push him closer without your hands.

your lids are heavy with euphoria, trying to keep them open as you watch spider-man licking into you, bobbing his head and grinding his hips into the bedding.

“aww, poor- poor baby. looking a bit- a bit needy down there.” trying for a teasing tone, having to push through moans.

spider-man pressed a firm kiss to your clit making you gasp, “who wouldn’t be needy around a beautiful lady? especially one as delicious as you.” before dipping back to work.

this man knows how to get your heart racing with words alone.

you knew peter was skilled with his tongue, fast quips rolling into villains faces. oh, also easily making you cum and become a stimulated mess before him, but the spider-man suit is making him even better. your eyes are rolling to the ceiling or crossing in the middle to make your vision blur, mouth open in a silent gasp or biting into your bottom lip to subdue the louder moans so you don’t get a noise complaint. like last time.

you looked down again to see him lapping at your wetness, a lake in his scorching desert. his palms slid up your thighs to squeeze at your hips before resting them on your stomach. keeping you pressed firmly into the mattress, subduing your squirming.

his tongue tickled your clit, pulling a high pitched whine from your throat. you tried tugging against the webbing, you wanted it off so you could press spider-man closer, but you didn’t want him to stop for even a second.

“so- so close, ba- baby. so- uh! uh!” tingling as his tongue enters your hole. fucking in and out while his nose bumps into your clit, giving that extra stimulation. “yes, yes! keep- keep going.”

you squeezed tight around the muscle, his exhale ghosting over his spit and your slick mixing. how you wished you could rip your hands free, yank his mask off so you could sink your nails into peter’s messy curls and tug him.

spider-man started gaining speed, going faster, making that knot in your lower stomach building tighter and tighter. so close to snapping free from tension.

“please, spidey. peter, i’m- i’m almost there, baby.”

that only spurred him to kick into high gear, tongue flattening for every inch of you. lips kissing you intimately, sucking you sweet.

“pete- pete, i’m- i’m gonna…” trailing off as the knot tightens, rendering you speechless.

peter didn’t need to ask what you were gonna do, he just gave you a silent permission to cum as he continued his hero work.

a loud noise of ecstasy was ripped from you, thighs shutting around peter’s head as he worked you through it all. your chest was panting with a slight sweat to your breast.

“ah! ah! pete, too- too much.” foot tapping on his shoulder as your physical signal for him to lighten up. three more kitten licks, two kisses and a playful bite at your thighs that made you screech in delight.

peter finally tugged his bug-eyed mask off, letting you appreciate your pretty boyfriend with his lips pink all covered in shine. he crawled up your body, trailing over his phantom kisses from earlier.

he nipped at a spot on your neck at causes you to sigh dreamily, eyes fluttering shut and legs shuffling for something. “my hero.” sighing out the two words just as he licked over a spot where there is sure to be a purple hickey tomorrow morning.

his dazzling smile came into view, “all in a days work, sweetheart.” giving you a kiss while his hands ran over your arms and pulled away the loosening web fluid.

his lips moved from your mouth to your wrist, princess kissing them at the slight redness you gained at the friction. “doing okay?” he asked, peering at you through long brown lashes.

you nod, “yeah. doing great. now,” you pushed yourself into peter, wrapping your arms around his neck. shuffling your legs over his to straddle his thighs, you pushed his head into your neck so you could whisper into his ear, “how’d you like a reward? for helping me out, spidey.” pulling at his earlobe with your teeth.

peter shuttered and sighed, “i’d like nothing more.”

[sean-gaffney]

What's Left of the Looney Tunes?

So you’re a Looney Tunes fan, and you’re waiting with baited breath (Greetings, Bait!) for the cartoon list for the next Collector’s Choice Blu-Ray.  And as you wait to see if they add that 1953 Friz Freleng or 1958 Robert McKimson cartoon, you must be thinking:  Surely they’ve released every single cartoon at SOME point since the 1980s, right?  Well, except for the really racist ones.  Right?

Nah.  There’s 129 Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies that have never been officially released, restored or unrestored, on home video at all.  And, to be honest, most of them are unlikely to be on the Collector’s Choice sets.  Let’s take a look at the last bastions against having all 1000 LT/MM cartoons available.

Bosko.  Now, there are a few Bosko cartoons available.  There’s 38 Bosko cartoons from 1930-1933, not counting the weird ones like the Talk-ink Kid pilot or whatever Bosko and Honey was.  Of those, 11 have been released officially.  This leaves 27 in limbo.  This is a shame, there are some really good Bosko cartoons.

Buddy.  Even worse, to be honest.  23 Buddy cartoons were made, 5 have had some official release.  That leaves 18.  Now, there’s a reason for that.  They’re awful.  (Also, two of those 18, Buddy of the Apes and Buddy in Africa, also fall under one of the later categories we’ll get to.)

Seven B&W Merrie Melodies.  Two of these, Hittin’ the Trail for Hallelujah Land and Goin’ to Heaven on a Mule, are basically banned for content.  Those Were Wonderful Days, Why Do I Dream Those Dreams, The Girl at the Ironing Board, The Miller’s Daughter, and Rhythm in the Bow, are simply not available, possibly as they’re dull.  However, they have been restored.  (As has HtTfHL.)

Seven B&W Looney Tunes.  Mostly the same as above.  The Daffy Duckaroo and Tokio Jokio are banned for content, though we may see Duckaroo someday (Native American caricatures have traditionally been less banned than Black and Asian caricatures).  Saps in Chaps also has some Native American gags, I think.  As for The Fire Alarm, Joe Glow the Firefly, Gopher Goofy and Nutty News, they’ve been restored but never released.

The rest of the “Censored 11”, of which Hittin’ the Trail for Hallelujah Land was the first.  As most cartoon fans know, this is not a catch all of all racist WB cartoons, it’s just the ones that were owned by Associated Artists productions.  So yeah, Sunday Go to Meetin’ Time, Clean Pastures, Uncle Tom’s Bungalow, Jungle Jitters, The Isle of Pingo Pongo, All This and Rabbit Stew (a Bugs Bunny cartoon), Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs, Tin Pan Alley Cats, Angel Puss and Goldilocks and the Jivin’ Bears.  They’ve all been restored.

The dog cartoons.  There are a bunch of one-shots that have no regular characters but all involve dogs, and (likely as they don’t have a “star” and aren’t really great) they’ve never come out.  Pappy’s Puppy, Mixed Master, A Waggily Tale, Dog Tales.  All but Pappy’s Puppy are restored.

Miscellaneous “banned for content” cartoons.  Which is Witch (a Bugs Bunny cartoon), Tom Tom Tomcat (a Tweety and Sylvester cartoon), and two REALLY late cartoons, Hocus Pocus Pow Wow and Injun Trouble.  None of these have been restored.

Random missing 50s stuff.  A Bone for a Bone (Goofy Gophers), Sock a Doodle Doo (Foghorn Leghorn), Easy Peckin’s, Quack Shot (Daffy Duck and Elmer Fudd), Trick or Tweet (Tweety).

60s stuff that’s still actually Warner Brothers.  There’s about 10 or 12 early 60s cartoons that just aren’t very good, and that’s why they’re not out.  They’ve all been restored except Unnatural History and What’s My Lion, which are two of the worst LT/MM shorts that ever came out – not for content, they’re simply pathetically unfunny.

All the post-64 stuff.  There’s a pile, I won’t break them down one by one.  Mostly Daffy/Speedy cartoons, the nadir of both characters.  A few of the Roadrunner cartoons that weren’t stuffed onto that one DVD a while back.  They’re here as no one wants to watch them.

The post-67 stuff, aka the nightmare years.  Cool Cat, Merlin the Magic Mouse, Bunny and Claude… those.  (Though actually, both Bunny and Claude shorts HAVE been released.)  They’re here for the same reason – unpopularity.

Note this doesn’t even get into the cartoons which were fine to release in the 1980s on VHS but *aren’t* fine to release now (all the Merrie Melodies that weren’t banned but have racial stereotypes, such as the Inki cartoons, a huge number of cowboy and Indian cartoons, and Bugs Bunny’s unfortunate wartime cartoon).  Or all the stuff that’s restored and out on Max, but has never hit a DVD or Blu-Ray (half of the 30s Merrie Melodies).  Or the stuff that’s unrestored, not on Max and has never hit a DVD or Blu-Ray (the other half of the 1930s Merrie Melodies).  Or Holiday for Drumsticks, what’s up with that?

In any case, when they announce the cartoons for the 4th set in a week or so, you can look at this list and see if it has any of those.

[covetyou]

seeded

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: no explicit smut but references to the following - tentacles, monster/alien fucking, cum inflation, mpreg, masturbation. also, pregnancy anxiety. word count: 979 summary: Dieter Bravo believes in aliens. Do you?

A/N: happy slightly early birthday to the gorgeous @sp00kymulderr for tomorrow - adore you 💛. in honour of you there is also a slight mention of just a touch because that lives rent free in my head.

for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May drabble challenge - I make my own rules so I didn't include meet-cute (I accidentally wrote this, so I can't be blamed for excluding it) quote: "Do you believe in aliens?" trope: meet-cute follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

"Do you believe in aliens?"

It wasn't the first time he'd asked you this question. It probably wouldn't be the last either, knowing him, and so you answer in the same way you did that very first time so long ago.

"Yes, Dee," you say, looking at him over your laptop screen, the ghost of his rammed summer calendar still burned into your retinas as he comes into focus. Due on a new set in a few weeks, and with his filming schedule just through this morning, you'd spent the last few hours scrambling to put his life together while yours chaotically whirls out of control, ignored, in the background.

Dieter, oblivious as ever to the state of your life, has shuffled into your direct line of sight with coffee cup in hand, robe open and soft belly on display.

"Right..." he starts, before drifting off to look down at his hands as a concerned look takes over his face.

"You have that dream again?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. It's a dream he has every few months, seems like he has for most of his life. You're about as familiar with it as he is by now. Dieter Bravo will dream of some kind of elaborate alien abduction, usually involving him being dragged up by a beam of light into some extraterrestrial spacecraft. Most often it's pretty benign - occasionally he'd be abducted and never seen again, once or twice it's been pretty gruesome, sometimes he even wakes up having thoroughly enjoyed himself. You can't quite work out what has happened this time though, as his face flicks between concerned and softly dazed.

"No," he says quickly.

"You're a shit liar, Dee."

Closing your laptop - you need the break anyway - you look at him, properly, and see his hand has moved from itching his stomach, to gently caressing it.

Oh no. No. Not this again.

"Dieter."

"Do you think I could be-"

"No, Dieter," you start, standing to approach him like you're approaching a skittish deer. "I don't think you're pregnant." - it sounds stupid to even say it out loud - "I believe in aliens, I do not believe you've been abducted, or probed, or inseminated. I think you had a very nice, or very horrible, dream and now you've woken up confused. Drink your coffee."

Dieter dutifully takes a slurp from the mug in his hand, nodding to you like he's holding onto your every word. Because sometimes, he does. Sometimes you rule Dieter Bravo's world, and he gladly lets you. Take that, alien overlords.

Another deep breath and Dieter's shoulders relax, falling from the tense position he'd held them in. He'd quite liked the idea of being impregnated by an otherworldly lifeform when you first met him. You'd been working for him for a few weeks and, perhaps regrettably, still hadn't established the boundaries you have now. After one of his more sedate parties, you sat with him giggling on his patio. Soon you were both agreeing that the deep sea was much more terrifying than deep space, and a three, two, one later you'd simultaneously exclaimed your belief in aliens. Dieter, naturally, took it one step further, and once you'd got onto the topic of tentacles you knew you were done for, even then. You learnt a lot about what Dieter Bravo would do given the chance to fuck an alien that night, and none of it sounded remotely romantic or sanitary. It barely sounded safe. You're not sure a human could even physically contain the amount of fluid he was talking about. Still, amongst the thoughts of all that mess you definitely stopped breathing at some point, and when he finally got up with a slap to his bare thighs you'd all but scurried home just to make yourself come to the thoughts he planted in your head. It was safe to say Dieter Bravo liked aliens.

"But what if I was," his hand comes to his stomach again, resting below his belly button as his eyes go wide. "I don't know what I'd do."

The worry on his face is almost funny. Almost, because you're the one who has to deal with it, and that makes it not very funny at all. For a moment, you have to humor him, tell him what he wants to hear so he calms down and leaves you alone, and that feels sillier than anything. Which is saying something. You've chased this man through the house, high out of his mind two minutes before a video interview, wearing nothing but a sock on his dick.

"You'd be fine, Dee. You have plenty of space for alien babies in this place. We could get a nanny too, and you can more than afford to take a little time off work. It'd be okay."

"You promise? You'd help?"

"Promise. I'll help look after your alien babies, Dee."

"Okay, cool, because I am not ready to be a mom."

He shuffles off again before you can say anything else, his shaggy head disappearing around a corner just before you hear him flop down on the couch in the other room. You don't need to see him to know exactly what he's doing right now. It's the same thing he does whenever he flops onto that couch. He'll put his coffee down and then scratch his balls a little before simply resting his hand there. Sometimes it devolves into something a little more handsy - the man can tease himself for hours - but sometimes he's comforted just holding his own balls for a little while. The issue always is, you never know which way it's going to go, so before he gets too distracted, you shout through to him from your little corner of his house.

"Hey, Dee?"

"Yeah?"

"Want me to get you a pregnancy test?"

[amorienomore]

Broken Pieces

・˚˖𓍢ִ໋⋆‧₊˚ ࣪⋆ Growing up, you know how it feels to have daddy issues. So when you notice the same glazed look of abandonment and acceptance in Toji’s son, Megumi, you decide to try to fix that broken piece of soul as much as you can.

・˚˖𓍢ִ໋⋆‧₊˚ ࣪⋆Authors Note: this is going to contains some themes that may be triggering to some so please be aware this is kinda sad(??) contains themes such as… daddy issues, hint at y/n sleeping around as a coping mechanism, age gap between toji and y/n

—

Growing up, you used to dream of what it would be like to have a dad who actually cared. Someone who’d tuck me in at night, tell me you’re doing okay, give me a hug just because.

Growing up with an absent father doesn’t just hurt, it full on warps you. It makes you question your worth before you even understand what worth is. It teaches you that love is something you have to earn, something you have to fight for, and even then, it’s never guaranteed. Wanna know the worst part? You don’t even know what you’re fighting for anymore, just that you want to be acknowledged, to be seen.

You grew up with the constant quiet sting of rejection, like you were never good enough to deserve the simplest things. Things like a smile, a hug, his attention. You became a woman who learned to fill that empty space with whatever distractions you could find. Constant nights with men who wouldn’t even remember you. Constant nights of wobbling down the streets with an empty look on your face, a wrinkled dress and sore ankles. And when those distractions didn’t work, you learned how to ignore the ache inside, how to pretend it didn’t matter. How to act like you wasn’t craving something more.

And then came Toji.

Toji Fushiguro… your boyfriend. Your bad decision making skills took over again, you suppose. You don’t think you ever truly knew what you were getting into when you got involved with him. He just looked like you. Empty and cold. “Maybe we could fix each other?” You thought when you first met. Toji wasn’t just emotionally unavailable, it was his entirety. His presence in your life felt like a storm, wild, unpredictable, and often destructive. He was a man who was always on the move, always cold, always keeping people at arm’s length, always pushing me away when you needed him most. Yet pulling you close when he needed you most.

But you didn’t know how to be with someone who wasn’t like that, couldn’t remember a time you were ever with a good guy. Your whole life had been defined by the absence of affection, so why would you expect Toji to give it to you? You didn’t even know how to ask for it. You didn’t know how to say, “Hey, I need you. I need to feel like I matter.” Toji was your reflection, someone who kept his heart buried so deep that you couldn’t even see it. His heart as black as his hair and scarred as the scars that glittered his body. And you mirrored him, closing yourself off until you were just as broken and distant as he was.

“I don’t need you to stay,” Toji said as he tossed your clothes at you your first night with him. His words as cold as his hands on your skin. “I just needed you. Don’t get attached.”

And you didn’t know how to respond, because you’d already heard it so many times before. His voice echoed in my mind, just like the absence of your father’s. Your own worth reduced to something disposable, to something he could discard once when he got his fill. You should have realized this relationship would go nowhere but perhaps it was the look in his eyes that made you stay for as long as you have. A look of hurt and avoidance.

After a few months of us dating, he let you meet his son. Megumi.

You saw him, and you saw yourself.. that same emptiness in his eyes, the same weight on his shoulders from a father who was never there. The same loneliness, the same quiet acceptance of it. But at his age when you’d already drowned in it, Megumi… he was still holding on. He was still looking for something. You don’t know when it hit me, but you realized, you don’t want him to go down the same path you did.

So, you decided to try to help him.

You were a woman with daddy issues, looking for validation in the wrong places. It was like you didn’t know how to not hurt yourself. It was like you thought the pain was the only thing that made you feel alive but you knew you had to try for Megumi.

“Would you like some help with your homework, Megumi?" You asked one day, as he sat at the kitchen table, scribbling over a sheet of paper. I could tell he was frustrated, his brows furrowed and his fist clenched as if the words on the page were just as unreachable as the affection he wanted.

Megumi looked up, eyes wary and defensive but also tired. "I don’t need your help." He said staring me down.

You sigh softly. “I know you don’t need it. But I’m offering,” You said softly, pulling out the chair next to him. "I'm not trying to do it for you. Just… want to make it easier."

He hesitated, but after a beat, he slid the paper towards me. "Fine.."

Your eyes widen slightly and you smile softly before explaining the problems step by step to him. It was simple stuff, but it wasn’t the homework that mattered. It was just being there, like a presence that didn’t leave when it was inconvenient, like something stable in the chaos that followed us. You could see him relax a little, his shoulders dropping as I guided him through it. Maybe it wasn’t a miracle, but it was something. Something better than silence, better than emptiness.

The truth was, you’d become so accustomed to people leaving me that you didn’t know how to make them stay. But Megumi? He needed someone to stay. He needed someone who wouldn’t just disappear when things got hard. So, you did your best to be that person for him.

And even with Toji, you found myself silently craving a fraction of the attention you could never get from him. He had a way of looking at me, like you were just another distraction in his life, a passing moment and sometimes he saw you, truly saw you.

"You look like you need something," Toji said one night, glancing at me from across the room, his tone flat as ever. He was always like this.. distant, detached.

"Hm? It’s nothing." you muttered back, a bitter laugh escaping you, "Just thinking.”

Toji didn’t reply, his eyes flicking away, uninterested. And you felt that hollow ache again, the familiar sting of being unseen.

But then, there was Megumi. He might not say much, but he looked at me sometimes with those soft, hesitant eyes, like he knew something about me. Like he knew that you understood what it meant to be left behind.

And you couldn’t leave him behind like you’d been left.

So you kept showing up. You kept offering help, even when it felt like you were drowning in your own loneliness. Because, in the end, you had to believe it meant something to give that care to someone else. To make sure Megumi didn’t feel the same weight you did. You just needed to try and fix it before it was far too late.

Because, in the end, we all deserve to be seen. Even if the people who should have seen us never did.