#that's literally not the point but thank you for your input

[hyperlexichypatia]

One of the many, many reasons I have less than zero sympathy for these men is that what they purport to want, their "birthright" -- heterosexual sex with women -- has literally never been easier to obtain at any point whatsoever in U.S. history (or, indeed, the history of many countries, but right now we're talking about U.S. politics).

A straight man has more access to heterosexual sex than ever! The world is his symbolically yonic oyster!

There are abundant dating and hookup apps, bars, and other physical and virtual spaces used for finding a mate.

Laws governing sexual behavior between consenting adults are more lenient than ever (for now, no thanks to the fascists you voted for) and less constrained by social stigma than ever. Safe, effective birth control is widely available, and the risk of unintended pregnancy, while never zero, is lower than ever (again, for now, no thanks to the fascists you voted for).

Like. If your great-great-grandpa wanted to get laid, he might have had to get married. Or hire a professional. You don't have to do any of that!

There are a multitude of horny straight women with minimal standards! You don't have to be rich or handsome or anything! All you have to do is put yourself out there and not be actively repellent to the women you want to have sex with.

And you won't do that! Because you don't think you should have to meet that absolute bare minimum threshold.

The bar isn't even on the ground; it's helpfully buried underground so no one will trip on it! And you show up with an excavator!

You don't actually want sex with women! If you wanted that, you could have it. But that's not what you want.

You want a Barbie-shaped virgin who will have sex with you and only you the moment she meets you, and will be forever loyal to you, while also leaving you free to have sex with other Barbie-shaped virgins who will also be forever loyal to you, and who will never "trap" you with pregnancy, but also will willingly birth and raise your children with no expectation of any input from you, and also cook and clean for you while you play video games featuring Barbie-shaped pixelated cartoon women and throw a tantrum if one of them has pores.

That doesn't exist. That has never existed. That will never exist. So you became a fascist about it.

I will not and will never pretend that this is in any way rooted in "valid concerns" or need for "better outreach" or those mean nasty feminists said "men suck" so now you're a misogynist fascist.

but the Democrats need to listen and appeal to them more

[nothorses]

I saw a post about it and like.

"doesn't have friends" is a red flag if the person in question is complaining about not having friends, not making an effort, and/or framing it as if the reason they don't have friends is because of everyone else in the world- and not themselves.

it's a red flag because people will sometimes use this as a manipulation tactic, to pressure you to stay with them, be their friend, be "better", and "prove them wrong".

some people don't have friends because it's a skill they're learning and they acknowledge that, and they're working on it.

some people don't have friends because they treat everyone they come across like shit- or they do have friends, but they downplay or lie about those relationships because it benefits them for you to pity them.

it's absolutely a red flag. it should be a red flag. but a red flag is just something to look into a little more; if you treat every red flag like a definitive reason not to connect with someone, that doesn't mean those things shouldn't be red flags. it means you don't know what a red flag is- or you're looking for excuses not to connect.

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

[street-smarts00]

Complimentary Colors

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 7.3K

Summary: After recently joining the team, you and Spencer could never get along. What started off as you two ignoring each other turned into bickering at work. What happens when a stressful moment for you turns into an opportunity to get to know this fascinating coworker of yours?

tags: enemies to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of crime/murder at the beginning (talking about cases/kidnapping), reader is shy and anxious, reader looks young for her age. (reader might be female but i don’t think i specified)

A/N: I haven’t written anything in years and I’ve been on a criminal minds kick for a while. I had this idea loosely based off a prompt I saw on cai by (ApolloTheBoykisser) so thanks babes ;) also for once I had a fic of mine beta read lol my bestie beta read this for me. This is also posted on my AO3 page.

You had been working at the BAU for the last few weeks. You tried to get to know most of your coworkers and it seemed like you were making great progress. You had heard a lot about the team before you joined and were pretty intimidated by them at first. Okay- you were still pretty intimidated by them. But you pushed through your quiet exterior little by little and slowly but surely tried to get to know them. 

All except for Spencer Reid. It seemed like he was trying to avoid you. He was always very quiet and would barely talk to you. Being a shy person yourself, you thought maybe he was just shy or a quiet guy. However, he continued to ignore you except for when he had to acknowledge you for work. 

His coldness towards you was increasingly annoying as time went on, and your perception of him had slowly warped. The things about him you once found endearing, you now forced yourself to hate about him. If he rambled for too long, it could potentially make your blood boil. However, you could never stop paying attention to when he rambled on about facts or statistics. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him fascinating.

It didn’t take that long for him to start acknowledging you, but this soon turned into the two of you bickering like children. When you were discussing cases or profiles, you both would argue over motives, victimology, crime scenes- literally anything about the case- you two could turn it into an opportunity to contradict the other. You both still kept a level of professionalism to not let your rivalry affect your job. 

But there was always this tension between the two of you when you were in close quarters for too long. 

And at some point you both reached your boiling point. 

Last week, while the team was on a case, you and Spencer had gotten into a little spat once again. This time it went beyond the slight bickering or contraction. In the middle of the local precinct, you two were at each other's throats. 

“What was that?” You asked after you and Spencer left the interview room that held a victims family. 

“I was working off of the profile . . .” 

“You mean the profile we haven’t finished?” You interrupted. “The one we are still currently working on and have yet to disclose?” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t work off of the information we already have,” he objected. 

“You told her information we are still unsure about. We don’t know for a fact how long he keeps them alive,” you accused while placing your hands on your hips, trying to conceal your frustration but failing.

“Guys.” Someone tried to tone things down. Neither of you heard who and you weren’t backing down.

“If I remember correctly, I heard you discussing this very subject and inputting your thoughts  . . .” 

“You still shouldn’t have told her! Especially when you don’t know for sure if her daughter could be alive,” you seethed stepping closer.

“Would you rather me hide everything from the mother who’s suffering from the disappearance of her daughter?” He asked, matching your tone and taking a step forward. 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“It sure sounded like it.” 

“Reid. Y/N.” The two of you turned your heads to your boss like two deer caught in headlights. 

“With me, now.” Hotch demanded and led you to an empty interview room. 

You could tell how angry he was- despite the fact that his stoic face represented almost every emotion in the book. But by the tone of his voice, you knew you and Spencer had messed up. 

“You two do not only represent this team, you represent the bureau. These cops are already not pleased with the idea of their boss calling us in and I do not need you arguing in front of them and giving them a reason to take us off this case. You must learn to respect and cooperate with one another or I will take you both off this case. Do I make myself clear?” He lectured. 

You both replied with a monotone “yes.”

“Good” 

Ever since your argument, you both had been relatively quiet towards one another. Like it had been in the beginning when you were ignoring each other. But that didn’t stop you from letting him invade your mind at every waking minute. It almost saddened you in a way there was no more bickering or quick remarks with him. With how much it annoyed you, you never thought you would miss it. 

The team had just finished a case and before everyone packed up and went home, Rossi announced that tomorrow everyone should come over for a little ‘get our minds off work’ get together. Your coworkers all thought it was a great idea to relax after the last few very stressful cases. 

As excited as you were to finally go to one of Rossi’s house parties, you were also scared shitless. Parties with relatively new people in your life were hard. You were so quiet around new people and were scared to approach others; you often waited to be approached. To you, being a profiler was easier than having a social life. 

But, maybe this time would be different. There’s not that many people on the team and you’d already started to familiarize yourself with them. 

The next day, you were pulling up to Rossi’s house. If there was anything else to be intimidated by with this man- besides his years of experience in the BAU- it was this giant house. You were greeted by the man himself at his front door. 

“Y/N, glad you could make it.” He opened the door and welcomed you in. 

He led you inside to where everyone else was gathered. Everyone was cheery at your arrival. Penelope with her clicky heels ran up to you and greeted you with a hug. It was refreshing to be around people who were so welcoming. It made it a little bit easier to really let your walls down. 

Well, almost everyone. Spencer gave you a small wave from where he stood. 

The night continued on and you would occasionally engage in conversation with the team. At this point, you were off to the side- standing in the kitchen and occasionally sipping some wine that Rossi had been bragging about and was just so excited for everyone to try. You were a bit too overwhelmed to go back to talking. The music was getting a bit loud and the lights seemed to be too bright. You opted for sitting on the barstool next to the counter and observing everyone around.  

They were all off in small groups or pairs around the house. All except for you and Spencer. He was another outlier and standing away from all the commotion. You looked over in his direction and he caught your eye. You both glared at each other and you quickly averted your gaze away from him. Your thoughts started to race and you began playing with your hair. 

After a moment, he glanced over in your direction again when you weren’t looking. He was unintentionally profiling you and noticed you getting overstimulated. Your eyes laser focused like you zoned out, your foot tapping against the chair, and your hand anxiously playing with your hair. 

While he wasn’t exactly your friend, he did understand what it felt like when social gatherings got overwhelming. He made his way over to you, careful not to make you more nervous or uncomfortable. 

“You okay?” He asked you. You were pulled away from spacing out. His voice sounded a bit concerned- which took you by surprise. You were partially relieved someone approached you to help bring you back down to earth. That someone noticed something was off. What confused you was the fact that person was Spencer. 

“I’m fine.”

He was well aware of what it meant when someone was “fine” and you were clearly not fine. He felt bad that you were so quick to shut down his attempt to check on you. After all, it was his fault and he knew that. 

“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked. 

You were conflicted. You didn’t want to be outside alone with him, but at the same time, you needed some time away from everything. Maybe it would help calm your nerves. 

“Maybe for a bit.” 

You followed him outside onto the back patio. You took note of the fresh air and the muffled sounds from inside. It all felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Pretty soon though, you realized how awkward it was to be outside alone with him. 

Spencer cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence, “Sometimes these parties can be . . . a lot.”

“A little bit. I was doing fine for a while but I think my social battery is running low.” You confessed to explain your discomfort. 

“Yeah” he replied. He appreciated the fact that you felt comfortable enough to express this with him. He tried to relate to you. “It’s the same with me. Sometimes I just need a moment to collect myself.” 

“Exactly.” You were relieved to hear that he felt the same way. “Plus it doesn’t help that I'm so new to the team.” You crossed your arms and slightly closed yourself off.

“I was the same way when I first joined.” He told her to try and ease your concerns. You were just like him at some point. The new guy and just trying to figure out how you fit in. 

“It’s difficult at first, but you settle down after a bit. Once you get to know everyone.” 

“Yeah it’s just the whole getting to know them part is a bit . . .” You abruptly stopped, hesitating to reveal too much to him.  

“A bit what?” 

“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.

He obviously noticed your hesitance and avoided his usual behavior with you. You were always so strong and quick to banter with him. But now you seemed vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that. 

“It’s not just you, I promise.” He was being honest. This was the calmest and most genuine conversation the two of you had ever had. “I find them all pretty intimidating.” 

Your eyebrows raised at his confession. How could he possibly be intimidated by these people?

“Really? But you’ve known them for so long. You all are so close.” 

“Close doesn’t mean you can’t be a little intimidated,” he replied. It might not make much sense, but it was the truth. 

“I mean Hotch is always stonewall and silent, no matter what you say to him. And don’t even get me started on Morgan.” He joked, knowing you would understand. 

You lightly chuckled at his joke. “I get what you mean.” You were starting to understand him more. You thought it was ironic that one of the team members you were first intimidated by was also intimidated by the team. Now he was starting to seem less intimidating or annoying and more approachable. You kinda liked seeing this new side of Spencer. 

“I guess I’ve always been like that. Worried to get to know people or open up.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were telling him this, but you knew he would understand. 

"I think when you're afraid of being hurt or judged or misunderstood by people, you try to keep your guard up." He told you, speaking from experience. From a young age until now, he's always felt misunderstood. 

"And I think...maybe that's why you're on edge with me? You're not sure what to expect from me."

“Are you profiling me?” You asked jokingly. Spencer however thought you were serious and you noticed him tense up. 

“I’m kidding.” Your expression softened to let him know you weren’t actually accusing him of profiling you. “I’m gonna be completely honest, I’ve been on edge with you cause I thought you didn’t like me.” 

He was a bit taken off guard by your statement. But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. He didn't dislike you now, but at first, he wasn't exactly fond of you. And now he was ashamed of that.

"I didn't like you." He admitted. "I thought you were pretentious, too eager to be accepted. I think I saw you as competition." 

Spencer’s comment did sting. It was never sunshine and rainbows to hear someone doesn't like you. However, you did take note of his language. He said “didn’t,” “thought” and “saw,” all past tense. Does this mean he doesn’t dislike you now? What you did appreciate was his reciprocated honesty. You both were making some progress in your relationship and you wanted to continue it. 

“I was eager to be accepted. I wanted to feel like I belonged.” 

“I know how you feel.” He expressed his sympathy. “I regret not giving you a chance. You’re not like I thought you were.” He also appreciated seeing this different side of you.

“You’re not like I thought you were.” You admitted. 

A little smirk tugs at his lips, “So I’m not as pretentious and selfish as you thought?” 

You lightly chucked, “I never thought you were selfish, but I did think you were a ‘know-it-all’ and trying to show off.” 

Spencer really didn’t want you to think he was a show off. Sure- he had a vast amount of knowledge, but he never wanted you to think he was bragging or that he knew better than you. “I do know a lot but I promise I’m not trying to show off. I just have all this information in my head and I want to share it with people or I’m really passionate about something and want to talk about it.” 

You understood that feeling all too well. There were so many times you wanted to ramble on about things you cared about or had knowledge on, but for the most part just stayed quiet. Meanwhile, he didn't keep quiet. He would go on and on. And while almost everyone else was either rolling their eyes or trying to shut him up, you were listening intently. You didn’t want to admit it back then, but now you were feeling up to it. 

“I will admit, while I did think of you as a know it all, I found a lot of your tangents interesting.” You admitted. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was so used to people dismissing him. It was nice to hear you often would listen. “Really? You didn't mind me babbling on?" He asked, relieved with your response. 

"I mean, it is something I have trouble with. I tend to talk too much.” 

“Oh Dr. Reid I am very familiar with rambling and being worried about talking too much.” You paused for a moment- considering how much more you wanted to share with him. “I know it may not seem like it because I’m always quiet around the team but.. once I get comfortable around people, I actually get very rambly”

"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised. “About what?”  

“Really anything. Mostly things I’m passionate about like you. I’ll also tend to go on tangents about memories or just things happening in my life.” 

You made your way to a bench on the patio as you spoke. Spencer followed and sat down on a chair adjacent to you. You brought your attention back to him and noticed his focused gaze on you and he quickly licked his lips, a habit you noticed he did all the time.

"You really are a lot like me. You're just quieter at first." He added, teasing you a little. While he was not one for social cues, he had the sudden urge to be bold and make a joke. "Maybe next time I see you rambling, I won't immediately contradict you." 

You dramatically dropped your jaw and placed your hand over your heart. “Wow, you really know how to give a compliment,” you said, pretending to be offended. 

He laughed with a bright grin. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. The fact that you're so silent and reserved makes it that much more thrilling when I find out how much of a chatterbox you actually are." He joked, being playful as before.

Your cheeky smile slightly falters for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t notice but he did. “I think you won’t be so thrilled once I actually turn into a chatterbox around you.”

"Actually I think I would find it intriguing." He told you, looking directly into your eyes. "The quiet ones tend to be the most interesting and complex when they do end up talking."

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ. You’re very interesting. Probably the most interesting person on the team.” 

Did he really say that? Did he mean it? Or was he just being nice? You tried not to profile him, but couldn’t help it. His body language expressed he was being honest. Uncrossed legs and arms, open palms, eye contact. The only thing you didn’t notice when studying his body language was his dilated pupils. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at his compliment, “I doubt I’m the most interesting though. You maybe, Mr. Three PHDs and can read 20,000 words per minute.” 

He smiled back at you, “Just because I'm well educated doesn’t mean you can’t be as interesting as me, if not more.” 

You couldn’t believe he was saying such nice things to you. This was the first time you guys were actually making some kind of connection.. and it felt wonderful. 

“I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long but are just now talking. And by talking, I mean not getting into a spat after speaking for more than 3 minutes.” You confessed with a hint of playfulness in your voice at your joke. 

“Yeah, I feel like I barely know you.” 

“What would you like to know?” You asked. 

He thought for a moment trying to think of a question to ask. You noticed once again that he licked his lips, trying to concentrate. 

“Let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” He asked. 

“Wow, I think that’s a bit too personal.” You said, voice laced with sarcasm. You tried your hardest to contain your amusement but started to smile. He smiled back at you. At first, he was always confused with sarcasm and social cues. To be honest, he still was. But he could just tell with you. He knew when you were joking and when you were being serious. He found your sense of humor amusing. 

“Yellow.” You answered. “What’s yours?” 

“Purple.” He replied. 

You intended to leave it inside your head- but a quiet “huh” made it past your lips as an idea came into focus. 

“What? Is it my choice for my favorite color?” He tried to joke with you but was also a little bit serious. 

“Oh no, it's just I thought it was interesting because those are complementary colors. You know how they are opposite on the color wheel?” You asked even though you figured he knew. 

He nodded his head, “Yes! Because they are on opposite ends of the color wheel, when they’re used together it creates a vibrant contrast and enhances visual appeal. The two colors almost balance each other out and support each other's intensity. Complimentary colors are a key component to color theory.” He suddenly noticed how long he was talking and his posture stiffened. He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided eye contact. “Told you I talk too much.”

“And I told you that I find your rambling interesting.” 

His head perked back up at you. You genuinely wanted to listen to him. It was refreshing to talk to someone that didn’t cut him off or zone out. 

“That’s kinda like us though, don’t you think?” 

“What’s like us?” He asked confused, still thinking about the fact that you actually enjoy listening to what he has to say. 

“How our favorite colors are complimentary colors. Like you said, they support each other's intensity. When you first see them they’re opposites, but the more you look the more they compliment each other.” 

He softly smiles. “That does sound like us. The more we learn about each other, the more we find we have in common.” 

There was a short pause where you both considered his statement. You did want to know more about him. You wanted to know all of him. 

“Can I ask you a question this time?” 

“Of course.” 

“So, you're always reading. Like everywhere you go, you carry a book with you. I wanna know: what’s a book you could read over and over again and never get tired of?” You wanted to know beyond his favorite color. You wanted to get to the various  building blocks that made him the way he was. 

Spencer considered your question for a moment. Trying to go through the near infinite list of books he’s read in his life. You could tell he was concentrating on his answer because licked his lips. “Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.” 

“Is he one of your favorite authors?” 

“Yes.” He said almost immediately, confident in his answer. 

“How come you like that book so much?” You asked.

You could see this sort of spark enter his eyes the more you asked about it. Giving him the chance to share his passions. ”Oliver Twist was one of the first books that used satire to deliver social commentary. Particularly in this book the social commentary was aimed at poverty in 19th century England. The book also quickly gained attention after its publication due to the scandalous subject matter in which crimes, such as murder, were depicted in detail.” 

Spencer finally stopped rambling and almost looked as if he caught his breath from the endless talking. But what he was met with was your undivided attention.

”That sounds really interesting, maybe one day I should give it a read.” You say with a soft smile.

“You should,” he matched your smile, but it seemed a bit more sheepish due to his brief tangent. “Have you ever read Charles Dickens before?”

You shook your head in response. “I’ve never read anything by him. I actually don’t read much. But I used to in high school.” You revealed. 

“What have you read?” He asked. He leaned slightly forward and unconsciously mirrored your body language and placed his right hand on his leg like you did yours.

“Pretty much the same books everyone else had to read for school.” You paused and tapped your fingers trying to refresh your memory.

“To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, 1984, um.. a few Shakespeare books.” You answered with the few books you could remember. 

“Which one did you like the most?” 

“I’m not sure”, you sighed and thought about his question, wanting to give him a genuine answer. “Maybe.. Macbeth. I remember finding the story interesting and I did a group project on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Like the scene where she’s hallucinating the blood on her hands.” 

Your voice started to pick up speed and volume ever so slightly. He could tell you were getting more passionate the more you spoke. Subtly displaying how you could ramble once you opened up to someone. He smiled as you continued, happy to see that you felt comfortable enough around him to let a hidden part of yourself out into the open. 

“I guess that kinda explains why I wanted to be a profiler and learn about psychology and forensics. I was interested in how Lady Macbeth's guilt manifested and caused her delusions. I wanted to understand why people did the things they did.”

“I can tell, you have this curiosity. You want to understand. Know the ‘why’. He mentally recalled the times you would express your curiosity during work. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” 

He pressed his lips in a line. “Is it- is it my turn to ask you something now?” He stuttered slightly. 

“I mean you don’t have to. It’s nobody’s ‘turn’ but you can if you want.” 

“I do.” He replied immediately. The corners of your mouth perked up into a small smile. He mirrored you.

“I may be stealing your previous question. Like you said you don’t read much. But I have noticed you listen to music a lot. I want to know a song you could listen to over and over again.” 

He was right, you often listen to music. Mostly on your way into work or on the jet, you would be wearing your signature headphones and have some playlist on. It was your own way of coping with the stress of your job. You looked down at the ground as you recalled the songs in your favorite playlist. 

“Dreams by The Cranberries.” You brought your eyes back up to face him. But what you saw was confusion in Spencer’s eyes. He tried to hide it but you knew better. “Have you heard that song?”

He did that little sideways pout you often saw him doing when he was in awkward situations.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. Spencer broke eye contact, embarrassed he didn’t know something from pop culture. 

“It’s okay. Remind me next time I have my headphones and I’ll show you.” You spoke calmly to reassure him there was nothing to be embarrassed about. 

He brought his attention back to you. Relieved to hear your gesture instead of a quip about his lack of pop culture knowledge like he was used to. 

“I will.” 

“Alright my turn.” You shifted your weight and brought your legs up to your side so your whole body could face him. “Um, it's kind of a personal question though. I’m curious about something.” 

“Go ahead. What is it?” He asked, giving you his whole undivided attention. 

“Does it ever bother you when people question your age when you say how educated you are?” 

He was somewhat thrown off by your question, but something told him you've wanted to ask him this for a while.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. Considering I have had such an extensive education so early in my life, it’s completely understandable that someone would question how I did it at a young age.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed in response. He knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. 

“Can I ask you something personal?” He asked before asking his real question. He appreciated your concerns about potentially pushing a boundary and he reciprocated it. He didn’t want to break this newfound friendship- if he could call it that- by making you uncomfortable. 

You nodded your head, silently telling him it was okay.

He slightly fidgeted with his hands. “Did you ask me that because people question your age?” 

“Yes,” you answered hesitantly. “I’ve never looked my age.” 

He thought about his next question before asking. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just trying to understand. Why does that bother you?” 

“It bothers me when people don’t take me seriously. I mean I’m in my late 20s and some people still think I look fresh out of college. It hasn’t happened as often since I joined the BAU but so many people in law enforcement don’t take me seriously. People tend to think I’m too innocent to have a job like this.” You confessed to him as you avoided looking him in the eyes.

"I wouldn't say you're innocent.” His comment brought your eyes back to him. 

“But you do have a soft demeanor. It makes you approachable. If anything, those qualities are an incredible asset to this job whether it be when you're speaking to victims or their family members.” 

Even though he would often throw snarky retorts to you in the past and try to get under your skin, he always admired how good you were at your job. Of course, you were an amazing profiler and had no trouble standing against dangerous unsubs. But the way you handled incredibly sensitive situations with such calmness and comfort with others was admirable. During cases with children, you were able to ease their worries and provide a safe space.

“While you are very sweet and shy, I would never call you innocent.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at his compliments. You felt understood hearing his affirmation. It also warmed your heart to hear that he thought so highly of you. Especially since the last few weeks, you thought he hated your guts. Although- his comment did make you more curious about how you were perceived. “Half the time I don’t realize how shy I am or how I present myself,” you weakly chuckled.

“There were actually a lot of ways to deduce that you're shy,” he matched your lighthearted tone but also kept a sense of seriousness to prove he was being genuine.

“Was it the fact that I was sitting by myself and scared to talk to them?” You half joked as you figured that’s what he was going to imply.

"That was part of it, yes. But besides that, it was the way you often avoid direct eye contact, and the tone of your voice. It's gentle and low, as if you're afraid of coming on too strong.” He was too caught up in his thoughts and observations to realize how much he was divulging. “You keep your distance and your words are always measured or not overly assertive. Almost like if you do come off assertive you will receive backlash." 

When he met your eyes again, he noticed how frozen you were. On the outside you didn't reveal much, simply had a stoic expression. He knew you better than that. He knew that he had hit a nerve and started to panic that he went too far. He had finally wrecked this slowly growing friendship like he thought he would, by being himself. 

“Wow, yeah that sounds pretty spot on,” you agreed. You sounded soft spoken and played with your hair again, of course without your knowledge.      

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He abruptly spattered in a panic.

“No it’s okay really,” you interrupted trying to reassure him. “I just didn’t expect you to be so ... correct.” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved he didn't mess things up, but still slightly worried he had left you feeling exposed. "I guess I'm just good at noticing things about people,” he shrugged.

“You forget, we get paid to notice things about people,” you joked with him, trying to make him feel better by lightening the situation. Of course, it worked. 

"That's true." He chuckled and paused for a moment to consider. Then he continued with his profile of you. 

"It's just the way your voice softens whenever you become uncomfortable, almost whispering or lowering in tone. Or your nervous habits, like when you play with your hair." It was a gesture he was pretty keen on catching.

You suddenly were very aware of the fact you were playing with your hair. You quickly dropped your hands and crossed your arms. 

"It's not bad that you do that, you know,” his voice had a slight crack in it. “It's just something you do subconsciously." He told her, trying to be comforting.

“Do you wanna know something you do subconsciously?” You asked, your voice with a hint of teasing. You decided that if he was going to profile you, you were going to profile him back. 

He noticed your tone and that you had gained a bit more confidence. "Sure, hit me." He said as he awaited your reply with curiosity and interest.

“You poke your tongue out a lot or lick your lips. Most of the time when you’re concentrating or lost in thought. Which means you definitely need to start using chapstick. I’ve seen you do it a lot since we’ve been out here.” You explained.

"So, are you telling me my lips are dry?" He replied playfully, his grin widening.

“They probably are,” you lightly laughed at the silliness of his question. He laughed along with you and subconsciously went to lick his lips again, but caught himself.

“I'm gonna be thinking about this so much more now,” he confessed. 

“Consider it payback for pointing out how much I play with my hair when I'm anxious. I don’t know what to do with my hands now,” you remarked as you dramatically waved your hands in the air.                                 

“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.

“I already told you it’s alright. You're not the only one who analyzes behavior. I’ve noticed plenty of things you do and why you do it.” 

“Like what?” He furrowed his eyebrows, curious what particular things about him you had profiled. He noticed something though. The confidence you once had, had washed away after you collected your thoughts.  

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stated.

"You won’t make me uncomfortable,” he responded almost immediately. “I promise. I really want to know.”

You took a deep breath before explaining your observations. “You desperately want to be heard. You love to share the endless knowledge you have, but when someone walks away or cuts you off your reaction is almost that of deflating. And when someone does show a bit of interest in what you have to say your voice perks up and almost cracks with excitement. Then you talk a lot faster, probably a mixture of excitement and as a way to keep the other person engaged and to not lose their attention.” 

Spencer carefully listened to every word you said. Not a single deduction was false. You had read him like a book in the short time you knew him. You noticed something about him that most of the team couldn’t pick up on. 

"You're right about everything,” he said with a soft tone. Almost everyone interrupted him, you never did. This got him thinking. Of course everyone on the team made observations about each other, they’re profilers of course. However, he wondered why you had made so many about him. 

"Are you always this observant about everyone? And I mean everyone. Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?" He asked his last question with a hint of a teasing tone.

You scoffed, “yeah right, like you get special treatment.” You thought about your response, not wanting to reveal too much.

“I guess I might have paid attention to you because you were the only one who was so closed off to me. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who you were even if you weren’t going to tell me.” 

He was right, you were paying him special attention. The fact that you wanted to know who he was despite his closed off nature revealed enough. 

“So you admit it, I get special treatment?" He cheekily asked. 

“Oh shut up,” you retorted. 

“Make me.”

Your lips pursed, holding back a smile. 

Spencer noticed you were trying to hold back a smile and found it endearing. He also noticed something else about your reaction. You were blushing. You blushed as a result of his taunting. He got lost in the thought of you blushing from him. 

“Something you wanna share with the class?” You teased. 

He didn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He wanted to make you sweat just a little bit and get a reaction out of you. 

"I'm curious about something. Could you tell me what would cause someone's cheeks to flush?" He tried to seem genuine but of course he came off with a hint of cheekiness. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. You were completely oblivious to your red face and were confused by his random inquiry. 

“Are you questioning my profiling skills?” You lightly scoffed, not knowing what his true intentions were.

"No, not exactly. I just want to know what you think.”

Your expression changed to one of confusion but also amusement. You decided to play along with his little game.

“Well psychologically blushing could mean a multitude of things. Embarrassment, stress, anxiety, attraction.” While your voice stayed consistent, he noticed the change in your breath and how your eyes darted away from him. It was a brief expression, but he caught it. He got the answer he was looking for.

"And which one of those can explain why you’re blushing?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he leaned closer to you.

Your stomach dropped and eyes widened. You shifted your weight in your seat and touched your cheeks. “I’m not blushing..” You ignored his question.

"You are.”

You sighed and stood up, “Well if I am it’s probably because you just pointed it out and I’m embarrassed.” 

"Oh, really?" He taunted and followed you. "I think that you might be blushing for a different reason."

You bit your lip out of frustration and crossed your arms. “Are you profiling me Spencer?” 

"Maybe I am,” he smirked. "I would say that maybe you've been so interested in me that you've been paying a lot of attention. That's why you took note of so many of my habits and behavior." 

Your face got redder and you started playing with your hair again. You huffed, “I told you before, the reason I paid attention to you was because I didn’t know you.”

"Sure, but you pointed out how you kept noticing I licked my lips. Why were you looking at my lips in the first place?"  

You were caught between a rock and a hard place. “Why are you so interested in why I’m blushing or looking at your dumb face anyway? Why do you care so much?” You asked defensively. 

He couldn’t respond, he froze up. 

“I mean, you question why I pay so much attention to you but here you are doing the same thing to me. Trying to read me like a book,” you accused. 

He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're both curious about each other."

“I guess we are,” you responded. You saw his cheeks turn pink in reaction to your questioning. “Look who’s red now.”

If his face could even get redder, it did. For a man that could probably say a thousand words a minute, it seemed like none of them could fall from his lips. 

It was your turn to smirk. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to leave you speechless. Never thought that would happen.”

"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed. 

“Make me.”

Spencer felt his stomach flutter, he smiled bashfully at your mimicking his own teasing. The seconds passed and neither of you spoke, neither of you had words. Both of you in your own heads. In your head, you got a stroke of confidence. You didn't know where it came from, maybe the teasing, maybe the fact that you had him speechless. But you took it and ran with it.

”Maybe the reason you wanted to know why I was blushing so badly, is the same exact reason I was blushing,” you mumbled. 

The realization hit him in waves. You just admitted to the very thing he was trying to get out of you in the first place. He was speechless once again, but this was different. He stared at you with a stunned look, not knowing what to do. 

You took his blank expression as a negative reaction, thinking you came off too strong. You slowly backed away from him, regretting putting yourself out there. 

“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Just forget it.” You turned around to go back inside but felt something on your wrist. You turned around and saw Spencer had grabbed your wrist to stop you. His eyes wide and breath heavy.

"No. Don’t,” he begged. 

"Really?" You whispered softly. 

He smiled, "yes. Please don't take it back."

You smiled back at him bashfully. Spencer’s reaction make your stomach do backflips, but it made you wonder. 

"Can I ask, why did you pay such close attention to me? 

He released his light grasp on your wrist and instead placed your hand in his. "I couldn't stop analyzing every single detail about you. I wanted to know you inside and out. There was something about you that felt intoxicating. After every time I spoke to you, even if it was just us bickering or arguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 

He looked down at your joined hands and started to rub his thumb over your hand. You looked up at him and smiled, glancing at his lips. “Well you definitely must be thinking about something now, you licked your lips.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You made him feel like he was on full display, like he was a book that only you could read. 

He slightly blushed at your comment. “I am. Can you guess what I'm thinking about?"

You grabbed his other hand with yours as a smirk grew on your face, “How close we are. How it’s probably driving you crazy..” You nearly whispered the last part as you leaned closer to him, “how I’m making you crazy..”

"You do.” Spencer wrapped one of his arms around your waist and placed his hand on the small of your back. A shiver ran down your spine as his hand touched your back. Of course, he could tell and was light headed by the effect you had on him. He’d never felt so intoxicated by someone before. “You’ve made me a mad man ever since I met you.” 

Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

“What about you?” He asked. “Do I make you crazy?” 

You glanced between his eyes and his lips. 

“Yes..”

It was like you both were on the exact same wavelength. You both dove in at the same time and slammed your lips together. Both of you just so desperate to get a taste of the other. The kiss was tender and passionate, with no single person in control. You both moved together in synced motions. All of the arguments, all the tension that had been slowly building up could be released.

When you finally parted, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. You felt his airy breath as he tried to come back down to earth. You placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he breathed. 

“I can tell,” you chuckled. “what’s stopping you from doing it again?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked desperately. 

You placed your other hand on the back of his neck, “I love hearing you talk.. but shut up and kiss me.

Before today he never liked the idea of you telling him what to do. But now, he was at your mercy. He didn’t hesitate and locked your lips with his once again. You both melted together like lovesick teenagers. But moments like these of course don’t last forever. 

The sound of the patio door opening fell deaf on both your ears. It wasn’t until you heard Derek Morgan that you both pulled away from each other. 

”What’s going on out here?” Derek questioned with a smirk. 

You and Spencer couldn’t speak, too frozen to react. 

His grin only grew, “My man,” he chuckled as he glanced at Spencer.

“Don’t kill each other while you're out here.”  Derek left the way he came and closed the patio door. 

You sighed, “He’s gonna tell someone isn’t he?”

“Yup”

~

He made his way back to his coworkers with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “What’s got you all happy?” Emily asked. 

“Looks like our two angry birds are now two love birds,” he answered. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Penelope sprinted over as fast as she could with her heels. 

“How I just caught Reid and Y/N making out.”

The room exploded with chaos at the reactions to his news.

JJ, who was standing off to the side with Hotch, furrowed her eyebrows, “I thought they hated each other?” 

Hotch glanced towards the patio door and saw the light shadow of two figures. “No they don't. Not really.” 

[000-pawz]

princess treatment (bnd) ˚ · .

ot6 headcanons , fluff , just bonedo treating u like the princess u r!!! (gn reader)

rest of the members under the cut!

a/n: 2am brainrot takeover hi

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ always pulls you into his lap whenever possible!!! loves having you close to him and it gives him an excuse to be a little possessive for a bit...><

𐙚₊˚ gives you random gifts and flowers just because he the smile you give him every time (and the thank you kisses too)!!! you'll wake up to a text from him saying "check your mailbox <3" and boom, there's a brand new necklace in there, all shiny and pretty...(he also asks you to wait to put it on so he can do it himself)

𐙚₊˚ puts on your socks and shoes for you!!! pecks your leg after pulling your socks up because duh.... you are royalty!!! even stops in the middle of the sidewalk to tie your shoes if your laces come undone

𐙚₊˚ cooks for you all the time!!! if you even slightly mention craving something, he's in that kitchen before you can even blink >< he lets you sit on the counter and feeds you little bites to taste test because you're his mini chef!!!

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo

𐙚₊˚ if you order something and you don't like it, he'll happily trade his food with you <333 he's content just seeing you eating well

𐙚₊˚ sings you to sleep and strokes your hair...and if you've been struggling with sleeping lately, he'll stay up with you until you fall asleep first so you don't get lonely :<

𐙚₊˚ if he sees something that reminds him of you at the store, trust that he'll be buying it in .3 seconds..."oh y/n would like this", "this is y/n's favorite color", "they were thinking about getting one of these"... like he's always thinking of you

𐙚₊˚ "i don't ever want you to be upset, darling. let's talk about this, okay?" like he's so serious about communication. he values your point of view and input over anything and makes sure you always feel seen and heard!!!

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ opens every single door for you because why would his s/o ever have to touch a dirty door handle when he's literally right there???

𐙚₊˚ writes you lengthy handwritten notes and poems...sneaks them in your bag when you aren't looking or leaves them on your side table to wake up to <3

𐙚₊˚ surprises you with a bubble bath and tea when you get home from a stressful day...gives you a massage after and encourages you to vent to him so he can hold some of your burdens for you :((

𐙚₊˚ brags about you!!! he loves sharing your achievements with people, showing you off to everyone he knows because he's so proud of you and so so so lucky that you chose him <3

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan

𐙚₊˚ your personal photographer!!! takes pics of you all the time, whether you ask him to or not (he prides himself in getting the perfect candids for your feed)

𐙚₊˚ notices the super small things... like oh you don't like tomatoes in your food so he picks them all out for you <3 and he knows you always carry chapstick in your bag, so he buys you a bunch so you never run out

𐙚₊˚ buys you so... many... clothes... you're sure more than half of your wardrobe is made up of taesan's contributions... it's not his fault you look good in everything!!! he just has to get everything for you so he can see you in it himself <3 (and mayyyybe show you off to everyone else)

𐙚₊˚ makes you personalized mixtapes and writes love songs about you!!! (for your ears only!!)

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ "hey beautiful", "you're so gorgeous", "my pretty baby" and any other sappy compliment he can give you at every waking hour of the day

𐙚₊˚ chivalry is not dead for as long as leehan is around!!! he'll give you his coat if you're cold, walks on the outside of the curb to keep you safe, carries your purse/bag for you, pays for all your dates (even if you insist on splitting the bill), etc.

𐙚₊˚ he does all of the planning for trips and he's so intentional and thoughtful about everything so you never have anything to worry about other than being pretty and enjoying yourself <3

𐙚₊˚ loves giving you his clothes to wear like nothing makes him happier than seeing you in his big hoodies and t-shirts!!! he'll even take his hat off and place it on your head simply because "you look cuter with it" like he's so obsessed

˚ ⋆｡˚ woonhak

𐙚₊˚ #1 hype man!!! even if you aren't feeling too confident, he'll be showering you in compliments and praise because you're always beautiful to him, no matter what

𐙚₊˚ leaves you a bunch of texts throughout the day just to check in on you, sends you silly selfies, makes sure you've eaten, and if he asks you to recap your day to him, you better type 4 whole paragraphs about every single detail or he won't accept it ><

𐙚₊˚ posts you every. single. day. like it's actually crazy... you'll click on his Instagram story and boom, there's a cute picture of you picking flowers at the park with the caption 'they're the prettiest flower in the world' and it's so so so cheesy but it makes your heart flutter every single time

𐙚₊˚ shares your hobbies!!! if you're into crocheting, he will sit there for 3 hours making a blanket with you...or if you like to do makeup, he'll let you practice on him!!!

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

[bexalert]

Stardust crusaders having a crush on you

(Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki Kakyoin, Jean Pierre Polnareff, Mohammed Avdol)

Stardust Crusader stuff because I just finished part V and I miss them 😔

Also, I started this a WHILE ago, and it’s just been sitting in my drafts, so here you go.

I’ll also probably be making something for part V soon because I love them all. My accounts about to just become Jojo I’m so sorry 😭

Jotaro Kujo:

• He’s such a sweetie (he will literally ignore you)

• He doesn’t know how to just care about people??? So he won’t say anything

• But he will be very protective of you

• Atleast he’s not insulting you 😭

• He’ll just be watching you at all times, making sure you’re ok.

• He gets flustered, and then gets more flustered since he’s flustered

• Not that most people would notice

• He just starts sweating a bit and looks away.

• but you know who’s NOT shy???

• Star Platinum will not hesitate to play with your hair, stand by you, stare at you

• Obviously Jotaro will try to control him, but sometimes it just subconsciously happens

• He gets frustrated because people (POLNAREFF COUGH COUGH) will tease him

• But he bluffs well enough so you can’t tell

• When he does ask you on a date (if he does)

• It’s short, and almost a demand 😭

• “Go out with me.”

• He moves his hat so that you can’t see his face

• But he’s lowkey shaking

• Bro could defeat dio, multiple other stand users, and stop time without breaking a sweat, but when it comes to you?

• He’s just very out of his element, give my boy a chance

Noriaki Kakyoin:

• He’s just naturally so charming

• Especially if you’re around Jotaro and you’re a woman 😭

• He’ll comfort you if Jotaro makes any rude remarks

• “Pay him no mind.”

• He acts like you don’t affect him as much as you do

• But not to the point of being rude to you.

• He tries to impress you, but might not even realize he’s doing it

• Like he’ll do something cool and then immediately look to you to see if you saw him

• Might act just a smidge more charming

• Oh you need to walk through this door? He’ll open it for you. You’re having a seat? Here, let him pull your chair out for you. There’s a puddle? Oh, don’t get your shoes wet! He can carry you across- for your safety of course!

• He’s very polite, and respects you so much

• Always want to hear your input

• What do YOU think is the best route? Which hotel do YOU like?

• “What do you think, Y/N?”

• Just cares about you very much.

• He’ll be confident but humble when he asks you out

• “Y/N, I like you. Would you go on a date with me?”

• He’s shaking in his boots

• He just always has this content smile when he’s with you.

Jean Pierre Polnareff:

• Oh brother we got ourselves a yapper 😭

• Everyone knows he likes you

• It is absolutely not a secret

• You just assume he’s joking, or think he doesn’t really mean it

• But he is DEAD serious

• Shameless simp- he doesn’t care who makes fun of him

• “Ah, Y/N, do you need help with that? I’ll help!”

• You didn’t need help, he just can’t stand to see you working

• “Mon amour, someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t have to do work like this. Hohoho! leave it to me!”

• He’s incredibly corny and will say the cringiest things at any time.

• “Ah! You’re eyes are as beautiful and shiny are Silver Chariots armor!”

• and you’re just like thanks???? I guess???

• He will ask you out constantly. Just got done fighting? He’ll ask you out to cuddle in his sleeping mat (and also proclaim his undying love) you’re hungry? Please! Let him take you out to eat (and proclaim his undying love) you said you’re tired? He’ll ask you if he can carry you (and of course proclaim his undying love)

• When you finally take it seriously enough to give him a chance, he is over the moon

• He’s telling everyone

• “they said yes! We’re dating!”

• He’s so head over heels and just adores you

Mohammad Avdol:

• Dude he is SWEATING

• Like you won’t notice because he’s very calm and collected, but he’s freaking out

• It also doesn’t help that Magicians Red always comes out when you’re around, and he just keeps getting hotter.

• Like if you’re having a long conversation with Avdol, it will just progressively get more hot

• He tries desperately to keep Magicians Red under wraps, and for the most part he does

• But he gets so embarrassed when he cant

• He’s super respectful, like feels bad for even liking you

• He thinks he’s being gross for thinking of you like that especially if he doesn’t think you like him 😭

• He feels embarrassed outright asking to just have a conversation with you, so he always tries to cover it up with something else

• “Y/N, do you mind helping me read this?”

• HE COULD READ IT!!! He just wanted an excuse to talk to you ☹️

• Since he’s also the groups stand teacher, he’ll use his knowledge to his advantage

• Like you’ll made some off comment about “hmm wonder why that happened.” And he’s going into nerd mode

• 🤓☝️ “Actually when a stand user…”

• Like it was not necessary for him to go off like that, but the way you listen so intently makes his heart flutter.

• if you take his advice into account or say something reminded you of him, he is DEAD

• You actually thought about him, even just for one second, and that is wild to him

• He is also a simp, but no one would notice. Pouring your tea for you, helping set up your mat, bandaging your wounds, etc.

• You just think he’s being a good friend

• When he finally asks you out, he’s so flustered, but tries to keep calm.

• “Y/N, when this is all over I would like to take you on a date. Is that ok?”

• He’s just the sweetest nicest big ol’ teddy bear.

[spdrvyn]

tearful territory

miguel and a sensitive, tearful reader. you try to overcome the obstacle that is sobbing and crying whenever you're confronted by your ever stern and stoic boss, but your habit gets the best of you. no matter how hard you try to hide it.

hurt/comfort. miguel is bad with feelings. reader is bad with regulating their feelings. bad feeling and bad feeling regulation everywhere! thank you for this ask, anon <3

dividers by @/cafekitsune

You've been labeled as the family crybaby for as long as you could remember, so when you moved out, you'd figured that the habit of tearing up over even the tiniest of inconveniences would evade you. After all, you were now a hardened vigilante, beating up bad guys, saving a bunch of people should have gotten you tough skin. 

Wrong! While you have obviously improved and it hasn't been as bad as when you were still a kid, the tears that found themselves home in your eyes were now just protected by a mask, a symbol of your heroic deeds that hides the weak, meek, and fragile person beneath it. 

As you got recruited into Spider Society though, your mask was on more than half of the time. Even when eating, you only had it half-lifted just in case push came to shove.

Was it a little ridiculous? Yes. More than. But you'd rather bare the strange looks of people passing by you rather than have a full cafeteria of spiders witness you cry. You certainly didn't need to be labeled as Spider Society crybaby too, making work arounds for your habit was working for you now anyway.

Unfortunately, the universe is cruel. Oh-so cruel. 

You were a relatively new addition to the Spider Society which means that the head honcho had been doting on you for a while now, doting was a strong word, but he'd call you into his office to give you feedback on your performance in missions so far.

Completely fine, besides most of the reports had been positive. Though, the thing about Miguel is that he's actually an uplifting boss when he can be. Which means he always gave you advice, tips to help you get better next time, and pointed out your mistakes from each mission. 

Again, completely fine! You were okay with criticism, more than okay with it. But that lump that formed in your throat, the warmth that crept into your face, it functioned like clockwork. So you've just resorted to keeping your mask on whenever you had a meeting with him too, problem solved. 

Another thing you didn't know about Miguel though was despite his lack of a sixth, spider-like sense, he'd a habit of his own. To be an observer, to pick up on the small details of the people he worked with. Even if he only saw them by mere chance, only passing by some in the multiple hallways of headquarters on occasion. 

It wasn't rocket science, even if Miguel did know rocket science, to figure out that you had an... issue with dealing with the slightest forms of rejection. Aside from the obvious hint that you were always masked around him, he also noticed that you were radio silent for most of the meetings, only interjecting with quiet 'mhm's and 'okay's. 

You were so quiet around him that it almost made him seem chatty. Miguel. Chatty. Those two words could not be in the same sentence, yet you made it possible. 

He didn't want to force you to take your mask off, the end goal wasn't to see you cry, but after a few months of having literal one-on-one meetings with him, he hadn't really sparked any form of connection with you. 

This time when you were called in, you two went through the ropes per usual. It didn't seem like you noticed Miguel's (un)conscious efforts to soften his tone, to relax his shoulders, and to not look completely stone-faced when talking to you. 

Miguel wasn't particularly used to this, has he had people cry in front of him? More than too many times, but never had he seen your case before. It made him wonder what was going on in that head of yours, to care so much about his input that you'd hide shedding even a single tear in front of him. 

The approach to the end of the meeting was steadfast, but before he let himself dismiss you. He asked, "Why do you always keep your mask on?" 

He knew fully well the reason why, but to hear it come from your mouth, would make it even more worthy of an answer. 

But the thing is that you don't answer him. It's the awkwardest moment of his life, he thinks. Two of you just standing there, his brows knit together in confusion and he's about to repeat his question or ask if you heard him until the smallest of squeaks ring in his ears and now you're turning your head away and clasping a hand over your mouth to conceal your noises. 

He followed in your direction, but he can't even see your face. Your shoulders shook as your fingers sloppily pulled your mask up so that you could furiously swipe at the tears that streamed down from your eye. You bit at your lip so hard to silence yourself to the point where you could be crying about how you're about to draw blood simply from the force of it. 

Miguel hadn't said anything, you couldn't see him either. How could you? You literally just broke down crying in front of him, there's no way you could ever show your face again here. 

You want to say something, you tried to at least. But all you get out is a choked, "Sorry, I'm-- Sorry." To which you don't even get a response to, but you can feel it. That thousand yard, judgemental stare that you always get for reacting like this. 

Which only caused you to get more shaken up when Miguel places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which he uses to manuever you closer to him and to let him see your tear-struck face. Your first instinct to cower, you want to bring your hands to your face and peel your skin off like a banana peel, but Miguel doesn't let you.

In his other hand is a tissue to when he tenderly presses just below your eyes to wipe at the wetness, that hand on your shoulder moves to your chin and he lifts your face upward to get a good look at you. He doesn't look angry, rather concentrated. Locked in. 

Your chest heaves with the effort to keep it together, the onslaught of a really bad headache is rising over the horizon like it always does. Once Miguel's done, he discards of the tissue before he takes off your mask completely and sets it aside on his desk. The hand on your chin remains, a thumb on one cheek and the rest of his fingers on the other so your face looks a little smushed right now. A sight he'd like to appreciate if not for the circumstances. 

"So is this a common thing or?" The question almost seems a little unserious in nature, but that is mainly just the product of Miguel's awkwardness. He doesn't particularly do feelings, and he can't ask if you're okay because that might just lead to even more crying. 

Your voice is too dead to properly reply, you move your face in a half nod considering the grip he has on you. "And you've been wearing your mask because you don't want me to see?" He asks again, you nod more bashedly. 

A thin hum of understanding is all you can hear for him and he lets go of your face, but you can't hide anymore. Your mask is somewhere on his desk, it's managed to disappear among the slight mess that there is. It's awkward again, no words coming from either of you until–

"You're dismissed. Come back tomorrow." What? That's it? You put on this embarrassing display, you bawled in front of him, and he's letting you go? No lecture about how you need to be stronger of anything? 

The thought chases you in your dreams later on in the night. You found it hard to fall asleep that you swore you saw the sun peeking through the blinds once you were mentally fatigued enough to succumb to your exhaustion, you groggily swung over to Miguel's lab, your grip on your webs were too loose for your own safety but you managed to get over to him without any incidents. 

However, once his platform comes to a clicking halt, Miguel's back is turned to you. You notice that he wears a long sleeved turtleneck over his spider suit, a combination of articles you haven't seen on him before. 

The screen he was paying attention to turns off as he picks up a coffee cup on his right hand side and he holds it up to you, "It's colder out today." 

Whether that's to answer for the coffee or the drip, you don't mind. Silently taking the beverage, it brings warmth to your hand and you assume that it's freshly brewed considering the steam that comforts your cold cheeks. Miguel's attempt at small talk, despite how awkward, makes you feel a bit better. 

Maybe you needed this. This kind of one-on-one meeting. It's clear that he came to that same conclusion too, but for now, you'll enjoy your coffee, sit in the decreasingly uncomfortable silence, and look forward to the days you won't cry as much anymore.

[contentloadinggg]

January Blues - Hozier

Author’s Note: Y’all I finally did it. We’re going to pretend it’s still January so this fits. But it’s finally here 🙏. Thanks to my bestie lunaritessane Who’s input made this fic a whole lot better. I love you💚. (Literally, like their beta reading was just delicious.)

Summary: Andrew is feeling down, you make him feel better. Gender neutral!reader. (3k words)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Smut! Smut turned weirdly poetic sometimes?. Kinda Switch!Andrew, sub vibes at the beginning, soft dom vibes later. Descriptive descriptions of Andrew’s long dick. (I have a problem)

This is a work fiction and is not a reflection of who Hozier is.

Inspired by:

“Well you cured my January Blues, yeah, you made it all alright.”

Fic under the cut💙, 18+ only, you’ve been warned.

The further Ireland dipped into the depths of winter, the more Andrew’s mood dropped. Reflecting the rainy, washed-out climate outside the frosty windows of his house. It hardly even snowed this winter, just a cold rain that somehow made his mood worse. Logically, he knew it was likely that the lack of sun on his already pale skin was what had him wallowing. But alas, no amount of tea and books seemed to make him feel any better. So that’s why he’d given up by this point. Gaze zoned out past the pages of his novel and tea now cold on the coffee table. His mind clouded like the gathering storm outside.

“Andy?”

A gentle call of his name had Andrew startled. Usually he would’ve noticed your presence by the sound of your footsteps, but he’d been too far into his head to notice.

“Yes, darling?”

He asked, the tone of his voice reflecting yours in its quiet manner.

“I’m just wondering if you’re alright? I’ve called your name a few times and you haven’t answered.”

You replied. Despite keeping your voice light, he can tell by the slight frown and the furrow of your eyebrows you’re more concerned than you're letting on. Sighing deeply with resignation, he closes the book with a soft snap and sets it aside. 

“I’m just feeling… I’m not sure. Down, I suppose.”

He answers, voice tainted with melancholy. You look even more concerned. A part of him wishes he didn’t worry you over trivial things. But how could he ever resist your questioning of his well-being?

You walk over to him and sit down on the arm of the chair. Running a hand into the long curls of his hair to scratch at his scalp. He hums and closes his eyes, leaning back into your soothing touch.

“Anything I can do to help?’

You ask and he breathes out through his nose with a shake of his head.

“Not sure there’s much you can do, but… stay?”

Andrew replies, aware his tone sounds dangerously close to needy. But you only smile and nod. Sating any insecurities he has as you continue to massage his scalp. 

He hums contently once more, letting his head rest against your hand. The warm light of the room throws shadows over his face and the pale lines of his neck. Shrouding the valleys in darkness and the highlights with warmth. Turning the sharpness of his cheekbones all the more prominent if that's possible. 

Leaning down, you leave a few kisses over his cheekbones. The feeling of warm breath against his face forces a smile to his lips. He turns his head, capturing your lips against his. Your kiss is like a balm on his apathy, replacing it with passion. Your free hand cups the side of his face. Feeling the gentle scratch of facial hair against your palm that’s also felt on your chin. The feeling lures you closer. Pressing into the space between his and your bodies until you’re straddling one of his legs. Lost in the velvety sensation of lips and tongues against each other. You break it off first. Ignited with one simple idea. 

“Let me make you feel better, yeah?”

You prompt, in a lowered, raspier voice. He looks up at you with blown pupils, green irises dark. Shining hot in the orange light from the lamp. He breathes out. Like he can’t believe you’re real. And nods eagerly.

“Please… do what you’d like.”

His breathless agreement makes you smile and melt a bit, moving his head to get access to his throat. A soft sound leaves his mouth as you kiss over the thin skin. Breath hitching when your tongue follows along the groves of his veins. He’s so goddamn sensitive. He has to hold back a few noises, the heat of your breathing brushing over his neck. Goosebumps appear over his arms. He’s becoming more and more aware of your every move.

Andrew lets out a loud groan that he quickly cuts off in embarrassment. A response to the dragging of your teeth over the base of his neck where it meets his shoulder. The skin beneath your lips flushes a pink color. You snicker in response to the noise, and he huffs in irritation.

“It’s okay, I wanna hear you. I wanna know you’re enjoying it. You sound absolutely gorgeous, but that’s no surprise.”

You murmur to him, rubbing his side to subdue his unease. You know he’s listening because the muscles relax beneath your hand. He lets out another moan as you nibble, turning the skin a pale red.

It’s not long before you’ve scattered similar-looking bites over his neck. By the time you’re getting his sweater off Andrew is breathing a little heavier, sweat building on the back of his flushed neck. 

His chest stutters watching you sink to your knees in front of the armchair. Eyes hooded and darkened.

“Just lie back, baby, and I’ll cure all those blues.”

You direct, and he does as you say. His mouth is too dry to try and come up with a sassy reply to your somewhat cheesy line. Not like that would matter anyway. All thought disappears from his head when your mouth lands on his chest. Kissing, licking, sucking down his sternum. Your lips wrapping around one of his nipples has him debating whether or not to beg for mercy. Airless moans slip from his lips without time nor thought to stop them. 

“Fuckin’ Hell, darling. That’s so good.”

Andrew hisses, voice rough, Irish accent thickened, words a little slurred. His hands running into your hair. Using whatever is there to try and get a grip. Large palms grasping at the back of your skull. He can’t help but pull when you tug on his nipple, forcing a quiet moan from your lips.

“Shit, sorry.”

He apologizes in a way that would sound regretful if it wasn’t husky with arousal. You laugh in response to him jerking under your mouth when you suck softly. Your way of telling him it’s okay. 

After giving Andrew’s nipple a bit more attention, just to hear him whine a few more times. And then start slowly kissing down his stomach. Feeling every little twitch and breath beneath your mouth. 

“Darling, please, please, stop teasing.”

There it is, the pleads for mercy. He’s practically whimpering. His voice becomes tight. A struggle for control. You grant his wish, hands moving to his belt. There’s a large bulge beneath his jeans, straining against the fabric. God, that must be uncomfortable, you can feel the heat from here. 

Eventually, with a bit of moving around, you manage to pull his jeans and boxers off. Freeing his cock from the confines of his clothes. It arches up towards his stomach with a surprising stiffness, considering you haven’t even been touching him for that long. He’s decently above average in length. To the point it burns a little to take, but not ridiculously so. The tip is a deep red, swelled with a desperation to be touched. 

Andrew shoots a hand from your hair to the arm of the chair. Gripping it with a hiss when he feels the brush of your breath over the sensitive skin. His cock twitches, the two prominent veins along the bottom throbbing. You decide not to make him wait any longer. Wrapping a hand around the shaft. Andrew looks down at you with hungry eyes alight with reverence, studying your every move. 

“God- fucking, yes.”

Andrew gasps in pleasured relief, a moan quickly following when you start stroking the length of his shaft, giving every inch an equal amount of attention. Just barely touching the tip to tease him. To watch his cravings become unbearable. At first, he accepts the simple touch, relishing in finally having friction on his cock. However, it soon becomes too little and he starts rocking his hips into your hand, eager for more. Slender thighs flexing with the movement. Light shining over his jutting hip bones. He’s absolutely stunning from this angle, chest heaving as he squirms. A thin sheen of sweat glistening over the bridge of his nose and high cheekbones. A stark contrast to the darkness of his neatly trimmed beard. 

“Babe-”

Andrew starts, his words sounding more like a gasp of breath. 

“Fine, I’ll be nice.” 

You relent, not wanting to torture him too much. Dragging your hand over the weeping head, Andrew moans and sinks his fingernails into the arm of the chair. His other hand cupping the back of your neck, trying his best not to grip or pull. You circle your thumb around the very tip of his cock, over the most sensitive glands. Andrew practically whimpers because of it. Legs jerking, he throws his head back. Eyes squeezed shut. Showing off all those pink love bites you left over his throat.

“Yes, just like that. Keep going.”

Andrew manages in that sweet, unsteady voice. It’s like he can’t get enough air into his lungs, caught between moaning and whining. He thrusts his hips into your hand which moves up and down the entire length of his dick. A focused attention with a twist of your wrist over the head. Andrew isn’t the only one getting impatient. You’re interested in doing much more than just a handjob. 

So, when your impatience gets to be too much, you duck your head and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. Causing a high-pitched noise of surprise from the man above. There’s an even sharper noise as you press your tongue against the bottom and suck. Pulling precum from his eagerness. The tangy and sharp taste coating your tastebuds, sticking to your tongue. It fills your senses, nearly overwhelming the musky scent of Andrew’s arousal. 

“Let me see your eyes, please. Look at me.”

Andrew urges, his voice higher than normal. Looking up at him, his eyes meet yours. And he responds like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. His lips parted, looking down at you with warmth in his eyes. His entire dick throbbing with your gaze on his. 

“God, you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.”

He gasps out. His hand letting go of the armchair and brushing the hair away from your face. So he can see all of you properly. 

“So, so pretty down there.”

Andrew continues in a murmur, the pleasure of seeing you drives his ecstasy even higher. He gently moves slightly further into your mouth, hungry for more of the warm pleasure, more than what your hand is giving him. You welcome him, slowly working his cock deeper into your mouth. Jaw stretching to accommodate until it nearly aches. Your tongue cradles the underside. 

He moans lowly, running fingers over your scalp. The warm and wet feeling of your mouth wrapping around his cock causes his entire body to shiver. Pleasure bolting up his spine. He nearly becomes lightheaded with the rush of blood, cheeks flushing a bright red against the paleness of the rest of his skin. 

The more you take, the more difficult it is to breathe. Andrew stops you for a moment,  letting you take a breath. He caresses your jaw with the backs of his fingers, helping it relax out. 

“Just go slow, breathe through your nose.”

He speaks in a calmly commanding voice. Forcing you to stay in your moment of pause for a few seconds longer before letting you continue. You follow his introductions and breathe through your nose, taking measured breaths as you sink further. Until tears gather in your eyes when the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Pushing at your gag reflex. 

A pleasured rumble sounds in Andrew’s chest. Vibrating back through your bones. He continues stroking your jaw, making sure you can take every inch.  

“That’s good. You’re doing so well, baby. Start moving if you want.”

Andrew says, trying his best to keep his composure so his desire doesn’t get the better of him. It nearly does when you start moving achingly slow up and down the length of his dick. Your mouth is so consumingly tempting, hot and wet and just perfect. Both a gift and a curse. Luring Andrew to near madness with how good it feels. He’s speechless, wordless. Stuck in this version of heaven. You’ve got him absolutely hooked. Even more so when you start to move faster. Suck harder. Letting saliva drip down your chin and glisten on your skin the way it does on his cock.  

“Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this. Your so skilled, so absolutely, fucking wonderful.”

He groans behind his clenched teeth. Resisting the urge to bury himself even deeper into your mouth. You struggle to move faster. Gagging on his cock when it hits your reflex. Andrew looks down at you, noticing your struggle. He gently pulls on your hair. Guiding you off his cock.

“It’s alright, let me help you, okay?”

He asks, but it’s less of a suggestion and more of a command if you want to keep going. You nod in agreement. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Andrew takes a careful hold of your hair, holding your head in place as he brings his hips closer to your mouth. The tip of his cock brushes your lips, it’s so red it’s almost purple. Eager and more than ready to slip back into your mouth.

“Ready?”

He asks one more time and you answer affirmatively again. He accepts this and nudges his dick slowly past your parted lips. Guiding himself back into the heat of your mouth. It’s wet, soft and very, very hot. He waits a moment for you to get used to it once more. Before starting to move. Using your hair to move you up and down. His hips rocking forwards into your mouth. His breath hitching as he feels your teeth gaze him. His thighs clasp either side of your head, knees almost on top of your shoulders.

“That’s it, let me help you. Just like this.”

Andrew praises in a tone that does nothing to conceal how good it feels. Carefully thrusting his cock in and out of your already sore throat. You’re so sweet, letting him do this. Willing to take apart every piece of him and put it back together. It’s something only you can do for him. Yet he’s sure you could do it for anyone. 

“God, that’s just right. You’re doing such a good job. You’re an angel.”

He manages, voice trembling. He rocks his hips faster. Guiding you to suck harder. Feeling every ridge moving back and forth across your tongue. The head is just barely nudging the back of your throat. Andrew is gasping, moaning above you like he’s never experienced something quite so amazing in his life. Something beyond any man’s wildest dreams.

His cock twitches in your mouth. His ecstasy reaching higher and higher. To the point his thighs are trembling, skin highlighted pink with exertion (is that how you spell it? idk). You look up at him. Admiring the way his features are painted with pleasure. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed shut. His long hair is messy and falling into his flushed face. There’s strands sticking to the sides of his face and neck with the thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Droplets slide down his collarbones and disappear into his sweater. 

He jerks his cock a little deeper on accident. Coming closer and closer to his finish. Causing you to gag. He opens his eyes with an apology on his lip. But you grasp his hips, pulling him closer. You shove down your gag reflex so you can take him all the way. Tears gathering on your waterline. He takes the hint with widened eyes of surprise and adoration. Carefully thrusting his cock into the depths of your throat, he groans loudly with pleasure. Both hands sinking into and grabbing on your hair. 

Your nose brushes his pelvis. The smell of musk filling your nose. An almost sweet, earthy scent coming from him. You make eye contact through blurry eyes. Andrew’s breath stutters, his legs tensing by the sides of your head. 

“Fuck- darling, so good. I’m gonna- shit. I’m gonna cum in your mouth. Do you want that? Do you want me to cum into your mouth?”

He asks, his words broken and stuttering. Almost failing at forming a sentence entirely. You nod the best you can. Tears and spit running down your face. He moans at your agreement. Somehow feeling hotter and even more aroused by it. 

Andrew thrusts his hips into your mouth. Pushing how much you can take as he chases his high. It’s not more than a minute of nearly reckless movements before he’s cumming into your mouth just as he said he would. His back arching into it as his legs shudder. He moans loudly from the bottom of his chest. His mouth hanging open. Head thrown back with his eyes rolled back into his skull. Shooting warm, thick cum into your mouth. The salty and bitter taste overwhelming your senses, but one you could taste over and over again. You groan around his cock. Causing his legs to jump as he feels the vibrations. 

He pants, remaining motionless in his recovery. His brain needed a moment to recover before piecing itself back together and pulling out of your mouth. There’s a lopsided, still half-gone smile on his face as he looks down at you. Humming happily as you swallow his cum. 

“You’re so amazing, baby.”

Andrew compliments breathlessly. Moving his hands to cup your cheeks and brush the tears away.

“I’m so, so proud of you. Come on, get off your knees.”

The tenderness of his voice is so beautiful. His actions even more so, helping you up off the floor. And positioning you on one of his thighs. 

“Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough with you?” 

He questions, his worries calming when you shake your head. Still recovering yourself.

“Good… can I return the favor?”

Thank you so much for reading my first fic 🫶, any constructive criticism is appreciated. I’m going to go do the school work I’ve been procrastinating over to do this instead now. Hopefully, the next fic won’t take over a month to write and I’ll be more active.

-Thad 💚

[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR 2. YAP CENTRAL EP.135: alpha male podcasts?!

WARNiNGS » pop culture references, profanity, errrm cant rlly think of anything else

3.6k words (IMSORRY), also it may be a bit confusing but its kind of written like an audio transcript! not all written parts will be like this only the podcast episodes! also this is NOT proofread so pls excuse any typos or grammar mistakes 😞😞

episode desc -  enjoy your stay today in yap central :D ! in todays episode we started off with a deep question about love and relationships and gave our inputs on that. after allll those deep talks we did a good ole blind ranking forms of ‘first dates’. following that up we mention alpha male podcasts and why they should be indefinitely wiped off the face of the earth. to wrap things up we discuss proper aux etiquette *COUGH* kat *COOUGHHH*. hope you had fun with us today and come back to visit yap central! 

*the set up is a big living room, there’s two couches, mics propped up. the room has a very calming aura, there’s fairy lights and blankets on the couches. as well as plushies and throw pillows. on the couch to the left, kat, riki, and you are seated, adjusting your seating positions to be comfortable. on the couch to the right, jungwon, giselle, and sunoo are seated. jungwon sits back down after standing and gets comfortable*

jungwon: okay the camera is on now 

sunoo: kat i can’t take your costume seriously 

*all laugh in unison, riki is pointing at her, laughing and even after everyone is done he still can’t stop.* 

yn: for audio listeners we’re dressed as mario kart characters and kat is.. 

kat: YOSHI *in yoshi voice* 

riki: *still laughing* it’s the tail man 

giselle: this might be the best theme we’ve had so far 

sunoo: no no the one where we switched clothes was funny 

*girls laugh at the memory, jungwon groans and rolls his eyes* 

jungwon: okay no the girls chose bad clothes on purpose that day 

riki: i think we were set up 

yn: i lost a beloved crop top that day 

jungwon: it was way too tight around my arms! 

giselle: that’s surprising considering you have noodle arms 

riki: false *makes buzzer sound with mouth* he actually has been going to the gym more often 

kat: what improvement won *claps* 

sunoo: oh my god did i tell you guys about the comments on my skin care video with jungwon 

yn: no? the one where you opened the PR package right?

kat: wait can you give me some of those? 

giselle: yeah same 

sunoo: of course, thank you dr jart by the way for the package! *he looks to the camera, giving a peace sign* 

jungwon: what the hell were the comments?

sunoo: no yeah basically some of them were like oh how cute, or just about the skincare then the others were saying me and jungwon were a cute couple. 

*riki moves the mic away to laugh at sunoo, you and jungwon gasp.* 

kat: honestly i was expecting ship edits of me and yn 

yn: SAME! 

giselle: that’s so cute you guys are official!

*riki continues to laugh while jungwon glares at giselle, then looks to the camera* 

jungwon: me and sunoo aren’t dating hate to break it to you all

sunoo: you aren’t even my type calm down 

riki: rejected in front of the whole world how do you feel jungwon? 

jungwon: anyways beep- 

giselle: wait before we sign in can we get a water break 

yn: yeah i have to go to the bathroom

jungwon: i literally told you guys to go before 

yn: would you want me to piss on your carpet 

giselle: how would twitter feel knowing you let your editor go thirsty

jungwon: *sighs* go hurry up 

*you and giselle walk out of the room, talking but mics cannot pick it up* 

kat: did you guys see the whole brooke schofield and clinton kane thing? 

sunoo: oh my god yeah.. that shit is crazy 

riki: what happened 

sunoo & kat: basically- oh no you go first 

jungwon: one of you say it 

*kat looks to sunoo, nodding for him to speak* 

sunoo: basically brooke, the co host on cancelled, dated this singer named clinton kane and he full blown LIED about every aspect of their relationship like he said his whole family died but they didn’t and he faked having an australian accent. 

riki: rip you can’t make your mom jokes

jungwon: *laughs* no but there’s no way 

kat: no yeah and she made like a tiktok series kind of exposing him and they’re just going back to back. 

riki: what does this dude look like 

sunoo: *snorts* look him up on tiktok. clinton kane 

*both riki and jungwon get out their phones, typing away. the two of them look at their phones then each other. jungwon and riki start laughing* 

kat: i know! like how did she date him *laughs* 

jungwon: brooke dated HIM? 

sunoo: YES! that’s what i’m saying 

jungwon: look at his teeth he probably has gingivitis 

kat: ugh his breath probably stinks all the time 

*you and giselle come back into the room, confused at the conversation at hand and taking your seats. riki stares at his phone confused then looks to everyone else* 

riki: wait he’s not a ginger 

yn: what? 

riki: his hair is brown idiot 

jungwon: wait what are you talking about 

sunoo: riki are you on the right account stupid 

riki: i literally am. you said he has gingivitis, he’s literally not ginger 

*giselle gasps and starts laughing, causing the others to laugh. riki laughs nervously* 

riki: what

giselle: gingivitis means the tar on your teeth, not being a ginger 

sunoo: oh my god *wiping his tears away, still laughing* 

*riki groans, making everyone laugh, once collected jungwon clears his throat, sitting up* 

yn: thank god we came back to that 

giselle: i know

riki: okay guys that’s enough it’s not that funny

sunoo: oh it is. 

jungwon: alright, can we sign in now? 

*jungwon looks to everyone and they nod, each getting comfortable in their spot* 

jungwon: beep beep! you’ve arrived in yap central im your co host for today, mario. 

riki: and i am your second host, luigi

jungwon: starting from the far left we have 

kat: yoshi *in yoshi voice, waving to the camera* 

yn: princess daisy! *you show your crown, smiling.* 

giselle: princess peach! *she gives the camera a peace sign.* 

sunoo: and i’m toad *he giggles at his hat, the top of the toad.*

yn: i think out of everyone’s i love kats costume 

*kat laughs, pulling her yoshi onesie hood over her head. making the others laugh and smile at her.* 

jungwon: she’s so lucky she’s in a onesie me and riki have these stupid ass gloves 

riki: i don’t know man it’s kinda sick 

sunoo: *taking a sip of his water* is it not uncomfortable 

giselle: it’s giving mickey mouse 

riki: it’s giving your mom 

sunoo: guys riki discovered your mom jokes today 

kat: well your mom has ligma 

sunoo: the fuck is ligma 

yn & kat: LIGMA BALLS!!!! 

*everyone bursts out laughing at the immature joke. sunoo does not look amused yet still laughs along*

jungwon: it’s the way i saw it coming too 

riki: i saw your mom coming 

yn: pause?? 

sunoo: oh that’s not 

giselle: boyfriend! i’m nervous! 

*you, kat and giselle all giggle at her little reference* 

riki: wait no- 

jungwon: dude my mom watches this 

riki: i’m sorry miss yang i didn’t mean it 

jungwon: SHES MARRIED. 

riki: okay then what do i call a married woman?!? 

kat: mrs, not ms. 

riki: see was that so hard. *riki looks to the camera, interview style.* i’m sorry mrs yang i promise i will never say anything like that again 

jungwon: yeah she doesn’t watch the pod man, but thanks for apologizing to all the mrs yangs out there! 

*you and kat hold back your laughs as you look at riki. riki then rolls his eyes and jungwon earning a smile from him and opens his phone to the questions he has pulled up.* 

riki: everyone ready for the first question?

*they all nod, shifting in their seats a little to get adjusted. you sip from your water, giving your attention to riki and making sure the mic doesn’t pick it up.* 

riki: it’s kinda deep, is it easier to love or be loved. 

giselle: *gasps* that’s good one 

jungwon: it came from the patreon 

riki: since i asked the question let’s start on the other side, sunoo. 

sunoo: i think being loved has like a feeling you can’t  replace you know. 

yn: i agree, it’s like everything comes like full circle when you’re being loved by someone. it’s a really good feeling. 

sunoo: i do think though, to give love and to be loved has like its cons too. say if you were in a one sided relationship and you were giving love to someone who wouldn’t want it back, it hurts a lot. 

jungwon: it’s just draining on the person overall. 

kat: but i feel like if you were on the other side of that isn’t it equally as bad? you know if you were being loved by someone who you didn’t love back it’s just another issue because you feel like you owe them your love 

giselle: i agree with you, kat i do but i think it’s so much more tolling on the person giving love because it’s like you’re giving a part of yourself to someone else to cherish and hold. 

sunoo: wow that was poetic 

giselle: i know right? 

kat: yeah i get what you mean

giselle: giving your love is just so much deeper. sure to be loved is such a great feeling but giving your love isn’t just surface level, it’s like you actually love that person so much, and it’s so passionate too. 

riki: but that can be said for the other perspective too

giselle: you’re right 

yn: i honestly think being loved is something everyone gets to experience once in their lifetime, it’s not only limited to intimate relationships 

jungwon: ahh you have a point 

yn: you get to be loved by your parents, friends, anyone really who cares about you. it’s a good feeling and i think that almost everyone should have that kind of feeling in their lives. 

sunoo: what would you describe it as? 

yn: i think it’s different for every relationship. like for example being loved by my family is the thing that nothing can replace, it’s like a warm hug after a long storm. it’s familiar and it’s a feeling that i just think i would give the world to have all the time. 

riki: im the same way, even though i don’t live near my family anymore i miss them like crazy all the time. like my moms hugs. 

sunoo: ughhhh my moms hugs, im gonna drive by and hug her after this 

kat: are you gonna open the door and just give her a big fat hug and leave 

sunoo: you make me sound like a situationship who fucks you then leaves 

giselle: not our fault you worded it like that 

jungwon: i agree with you though yn. i do think that being loved just offers so much more than just intimate relationships. 

riki: i do too. but i see giselles point too. why did i have to pick the best question ever. *riki groans but smiles in the process, making kat slap his arm.* 

sunoo: you just wanted an ego boost. 

niki: perhaps. 

jungwon: i think that it’s a tie, both of them have their pros and cons 

kat: that’s a good way to end it 

sunoo: didn’t know it was a deep podcast today 

riki: sorry *laughs nervously* 

yn: no it’s okay i liked the question *you smile to riki, rubbing his shoulder* 

giselle: yeah same 

jungwon: well then you guys are gonna like this next segment. 

kat: wait let me guess would you rather?

jungwon: no

kat: scenarios?

jungwon: no kat-

kat: opinions on the [BLEEP]?!

*the group look to each other, then burst out laughing.*

giselle: fuck i’m gonna have to edit that out 

kat: what?

sunoo: we cant talk about the [BLEEP] thing remember. 

yn: yeah or else it’ll be our neck. according to [BLEEP] 

jungwon: guys stop bringing it up now we have to bleep all of that 

kat: sorry.. *she smiles nervously at jungwon and giselle and they both wave her off*

jungwon: what i was trying to say is that our next segment is blind ranking

sunoo: oh my god i love these

yn: same 

jungwon: topic is first dates 

riki: okay well i can’t participate i’ve never been on an actual date 

*sunoo moves his mic away to laugh at riki, riki stares at him to shut him up* 

jungwon: yeah that’s why i chose it for our episode dumbass. anyways there’s five of them so here’s the first one. a music festival  

kat: oh my god 3 duh 

yn: ehhhhh 5? 

kat: *gasp* what 

giselle: yeah im with yn 

sunoo: yeah 5 

kat: why that’s so fun 

yn: it’s too sweaty like i had to be super comfortable to even go to head in the clouds with riki and won

giselle: i feel like that’s cool to do if you’re already dating but first date? i don’t think so 

jungwon: majority rules sorry kat 

kat: yall are fake 

riki: okay next one is a classic, the movies 

sunoo: honestly 4 

giselle: maybe 3 i don’t know it’s very like highschool

yn: yeah i see what you mean. i think it’s just weird because what if you’re watching a popular movie and neither of you really like it. also you can’t really talk to get to know the person 

jungwon: personally this is a 5 for me 

kat: it’s so like.. middle school 

riki: doing that damn arm stretch. 

*everyone laughs at riki’s joke as he fake yawns to stretch his arms and put it around kat, making her laugh even harder.* 

jungwon: i was abusing that card in highschool 

yn: it’s so corny eww *laughs* 

kat: no it’s kinda smooth if someone can pull it off 

sunoo: i remember i did the counting shoulder thing in middle school 

yn: oh my god i remember that 

riki: i never heard of that one 

kat: like 1, 2 *she counts her own shoulders* and 3 *she puts her arm behind riki, him laughing as she did it* 

giselle: that’s a good one 

jungwon: so movie 4?

kat: yep movie 4. 

yn: this is so fun

jungwon: the next one is go karting 

sunoo: OOOOO

yn: might put this as a 1 

kat: okay but what if they choose a really really good one for the last one 

yn: ugh you’re right 

sunoo: im saying 2 

giselle: lowkey 3 

yn: noooo its so fun. like its playful and it’s not too much talking where it awkward. and then after that you can grab food and talk 

riki: that honestly sounds perfect 

kat: okay you’re convincing me 

sunoo: let’s stick with two because i know they’re gonna pick a good one 

giselle: okay yeah 2 

riki: next one is eating. like going out to eat 

yn: 3 it’s a safe choice 

giselle: yeah it’s safe 

sunoo: oh my god what’s the last one i’m excited 

jungwon: sitting at your number 1 spot is a date in the park 

kat: oh..

*you and sunoo side eye one another, and start laughing* 

riki: you guys fumbled 

giselle: ugh we should’ve put go kart at 1 

jungwon: i would’ve put go kart at 1 too

yn: okay park isn’t that bad 

sunoo: no it’s bad imagine all the bugs. and there isn’t a single cute park where we live 

kat: that’s definitely 5 

giselle: yeah i agree 

yn: what time are we at won? 

jungwon: about an hour. you guys ready for a break 

riki: yep, i’m gonna go grab water 

kat: yeah i have to use the bathroom

*riki and kat get up, moving their mics. they both walk out of the room. the rest of the group continues to scroll on their phones, checking notifications. giselle laughs and sets her phone down* 

giselle: did you guys see the top albums of all time? from apple music. 

jungwon: *snorts* yeah, yn what’d you think about the list 

yn: oh i loved it, i think there was too much classic rock on there but my girl lauryn hill sitting pretty at number 1 

sunoo: i love that album, like it’s so good 

jungwon: frank ocean was top 5 i think we’re getting an album 

*giselle laughs, shaking her head* 

giselle: i fear we won’t be getting one for a while. 

yn: no but imagine not knowing who lauryn hill is? 

*sunoo and jungwon side eye each other but stay quiet to let yn go on* 

yn: you must have some shit music taste if you don’t know lauryn hill is all i have to say 

sunoo: must be an alpha male 

*giselle, you and sunoo laugh. jungwon looks at sunoo, holding back a laugh* 

jungwon: cmon we weren’t gonna talk about it 

yn: speaking of alpha males let’s talk about alpha male podcasts. have we ever covered that? 

giselle: don’t think we have 

sunoo: it has to be rage bait 

jungwon: well no have you seen andrew tate, he was like so serious about it. 

yn: i think alpha male podcast are so stupid. like you must be so sensitive about your masculinity if you have to run a podcast all about it. 

*riki and kat enter the room, taking a seat* 

kat: what are we talking about? 

jungwon: lauryn hill and now alpha male podcasts

riki: i fucking love lauryn hill 

kat: alpha male podcast should be wiped off the face of the earth

giselle: and they invite like instagram models on there and like flame them for no reason 

jungwon: they are like the bane of this existence 

sunoo: honestly is it just me or like recently has there been an uprise in podcasts 

giselle: no i get what you mean 

yn: i think when all those like old youtubers started doing podcasts they became popular again. 

riki: everyone and their mom has podcast 

kat: dude we have a podcast 

riki: yeah.. we’re everyone and their mom keep up 

*you laugh next to him, shaking your head* 

jungwon: you guys ready for the last question 

giselle: mhm 

jungwon: so as surprising as it is we’ve never talked about aux etiquette on this podcast. what do you guys think proper aux etiquette is? 

giselle: i think proper aux etiquette is playing music that everyone listens to 

jungwon: yeah.. *jungwon glares at kat, making you and riki laugh. kat furrows her brows in confusion*

kat: um hello im an amazing dj 

sunoo: you’re in fact not 

yn: yeah babe 

kat: *scoffs* what! wait do you guys seriously not like my music? 

riki: well no it’s just whenever you’re on aux- 

jungwon: which is all the fucking time 

*you and sunoo laugh* 

riki: like i was saying whenever you’re on aux, you always try and get us on to the music you listen to and it’s just shitty house music like *starts imitating one of the songs* 

kat: you guys don’t appreciate taste 

jungwon: you mean noise? yeah we don’t 

*kat laughs* 

sunoo: hot take i really don’t want music when im hanging out with my friends 

yn: your worst take yet 

sunoo: okay what the fuck 

riki: i’m sorry but pitch silence? fuck i’d go crazy in a car with kat and yn 

yn: rude 

riki: you two talk soooo much 

kat: not our fault you’re a nonchalant emo 

jungwon: *laughing* fuck 

giselle: i agree with sunoo to an extent like it depends on what we’re doing. if we were going to a club or something i’d want to get hyped up but on the way back i would want to debrief 

sunoo: yeah i agree with that

riki: let’s rank us in terms of aux 

jungwon: kat is dead last 

kat: your music taste isn’t amazing i don’t know why you’re talking 

jungwon: least i can admit it 

sunoo: the girls are fighting.. 

yn: i think it goes kat in last, then sunoo 

sunoo: wait what 

yn: your music taste isn’t like versatile. no hate it’s just not great on aux 

sunoo: yeah well yours is shit too 

yn: don’t care *you stick your tongue out at him making him stick it out back, the two of you giggle*

giselle: i think first place is between riki and yn 

yn: my brother just another me 

*you and riki fist bump each other, giggling* 

jungwon: it’s gonna go to their big fat egos 

riki: frank ocean is never gonna release an album ever again 

jungwon: take that back 

riki: your mom 

kat: as much as i hate to say it jungwon might be second. it’s tied between you and giselle 

sunoo: so we agree that kat should never get aux 

giselle: she’s always fucking arguing for it too 

*the group laughs* 

yn: like damn if you’re gonna fight for aux atleast put on music we all like 

kat: ugh fine i will next time 

riki: next time im getting aux 

jungwon: we’re gonna hear emo music the whole ride 

riki: to be emo is to be free 

giselle: rikilations

sunoo: what time are we at? 

jungwon: an hour thirty ish. should we end it? 

kat: i mean did you guys have any other questions 

riki: nah i didnt, did you? *he looks to jungwon* 

jungwon: nope 

giselle: okay sign us out then 

riki: thank you for staying with us today at yap central we hope you enjoyed your stay. 

jungwon: remember to subscribe, like, comment, and share this video. check out our bio for resources and sign up for patreon. peace! 

previous masterlist next

AUTHORS NOTE » i had SOO much fun writing this, like it felt like i was actually sitting there with them. the bleeps aren't too hard to guess bc its pretty obvious. i wanted to include them so it felt more real and i hope this wasnt TOO confusing

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[pickledcarrotsandradish]

For the situation fanfic ask, could you do Rise Leo for 1. Touch starved/cuddle curse? I love the way you characterize him

This is very kind of you to say!!! Thank you so much!!! So sorry for the delay. I am trying my best to get better at not overthinking one shots, but I still tried my absolute best! hope you enjoy!

Slight CW for issues with eating enough food and language.

In all actuality, the curse should have been funny.

Like, this wasn’t a case of the jelly bones, or his hand being on fire. It was a case of The Cuddles, with the title capitalization and everything.

At least that’s what it said on the pamphlet the receptionist at the mystic clinic told him. Didn’t even need to see a doctor for this. Leo had just gotten got by a couple of yokai kids playing a prank. He hadn’t even been the target! All he had done was jump in the middle of some good natured mystic roughhousing and kinda ruined the mood. It had looked like serious bullying to him! Like they needed a hero!

“Okay…” Leo droned out, bouncing on the balls of his feet to try and ease the ache of something that kept growing through his body, “But shouldn’t I still, like, see the doctor for the cure or whatever?”

The literal Secretary Bird Yokai gave him a blank stare and droned, “The cure for The Cuddles is cuddles. We do not have those kinds of doctors around here.”

“But--”

“Look, kid. I remember hearing about you and your brothers from Hueso. You guys are already the hugging types. You’ll be fine. Now, please, get outta here so I can go on my break.”

So Leo did leave. But not to go home.

Because the night before, he had exchanged some words with his beloved, egg-headed weirdo of a twin.

Donnie must not have been getting a lot of sleep or something, because it seemed to have come out of nowhere. It wasn’t even like Leo was home that often, and yet he found Donnie ready to explode in his room the one time he had been in there for the past few days.

They had exchanged words about… something. Leo was already tired, and the curse was making him uncomfortably itchy and chilly. It had been all, “You need to rest,” or “You need to eat” and stuff like that. The specifics blurred together with talks he’d been waving off with his other family members.

But the point was that the argument ended with Donnie yelling,

“I can’t trust you to take care of yourself!”

That was the part Leo remembered crystal clear. That made him grind his teeth and force his body away from those who might give him the cure for this.

He’d show Donnie. He’d take care of this all by himself.

Day 2

Since Leo had gotten cursed and informed of the curse close to midnight, he decided to go ahead and call it the end of day one. Sure it hadn’t been a full 24 hours with the curse, but it had marked the end of that day. It made sense if you just thought about it like how Leo was.

And midnight was the perfect time to run around the city doing patrol again. The human city this time. Thankfully, the Hidden City was doing just fine this long after the invasion. And he kept his promise to Mikey about taking a break from patrolling NYC.

Break time was now over, so back to work.

The curse didn’t even make it that hard. While he was running and jumping, his mind was too focused on everything he was doing. Taking in all the sensory input to try and find someone else in danger. Kinda like how he felt better when he was sick if he watched a YouTube video while playing a video game. Too much else going on to think about yourself.

And he was able to help. Like, there wasn’t as much mutant crime going on. And the human stuff had, like, humans to help out with that. Leo couldn’t provide any more help than a firefighter or an EMT could in those situations usually. But he still kept a lookout, just in case.

What good he ended up being able to do was this:

-Portaled some drunk dudes back to their dorm when he saw them trying to unlock their car. -There were these two dudes who had been yelling really loudly at one another. They ran off in opposite directions the moment Leo stepped into view. -Gave a tourist directions to the M&M store in Times Square (even though it hurt his soul to help anyone get to that waste of space.)

Which. Not the most impressive Hero List of the night. The only thing he could really count as heroic-heroic was when he stopped an actual fight-fight at a late night bus stop.

Granted, the way he did that felt a bit embarrassing. When he tried to catch the dude who got shoved, they both ended up falling. Leo was the only one with a bloody nose and a scraped cheek, while the other two would be brawlers scrammed the moment they realized an actual i-r-l mutant was there.

Because of that, Leo decided to call it a night. The sun was coming up, so it was time to start day patrol.

He stopped by home to get the stuff he needed to stop the bleeding. Humans were already scared enough as it was. Looking like this wasn’t going to score him any more charming points.

So Leo pulled the ice pack of random assorted veggies that no one ever used out of the freezer, and sat down at the kitchen table to get to work patching up his main talent.

But he should have grabbed a coffee on the way over there, cause his mind completely skipped over how Mikey was also asleep at the table. Little dude woke up with a jolt the moment Leo sat down and realized he wasn’t alone for some reason at 6:33 AM.

“BWAH!” Mikey woke up with a jolt, “Leo! You--What happened?!”

“I fell,” Leo simply explained while treating his wounds, “But what are you doing here?”

“Cause you said you weren’t going to patrol the city tonight!”

“Yeah, I took a break that’s what I said and that’s what I did.”

What he expected was another worried Mikey who would hover around him and ask a million questions like any of the answers would be “I will shatter like a dropped mirror in ten seconds.”

He underestimated the power of a sleepy Michalangelo. His baby brother groaned in annoyance loudly enough to wake the entire lair and the city block above.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” He accused, reaching across the table to grab the hand Leo was using to press the cold pack into his recently bandaged cheek and

Now that Leo wasn’t doing anything important, there was nothing to distract him from the Cuddles. And it was the contrast that made everything feel that much more intense.

That even though the hand Mikey was grabbing was holding the ice pack, it felt so much warmer than the rest of his body. That that hand was the only part of him not aching and shivering. As if he was completely submerged in ice water that could also have you feeling itchy, and his hand was the only thing above water.

It left him wanting to climb out of this hole and cling to his brother. Let his body feel relief and peace. Mikey was still talking about how Leo lied to him as the slider reached out for a hug

“No need, Michael. Apparently, Leonardo can take care of himself.”

He dropped back into the hole of ice water willingly.

Leo forced himself out of Mikey’s reach and turned to give Donnie his most pleasant “fuck you” smile.

“That’s right,” Leo responded, “I take much better care of myself than the dude who consistently gets four hours of sleep a night.”

“Says the only one of us who is actively bleeding at the moment.”

“Oh, am I? I see you have your battle shell on at dawn again. You didn’t sleep in it all night again, did you?”

Leo batted his eyes while Mikey turned his ire to the dum dum moron named Donatello. Even blew the two of them kisses as he announced how he was now going back to bed, like someone who could take care of himself.

And he was going back to bed. He had left bed a few days ago, and now he was going back to bed. Proving his point that he was by far the more responsible twin and that the others should be on his side and that he was the one who was owed an apology.

Even if he didn’t get any sleep because he couldn’t stop shivering. This was fine. He was hugging his pillow and that should count.

Day 2.5

No sleep and four hours later, Leo was out looking for something hot and fast to eat in the kitchen.

Normally, he’d be making coffee in this kind of extreme exhaustion. But the machine had already been stolen to the lab of an evil-fucking-mastermind. So, that was off the table to go and try to fight for that back. Not worth having to go and talk to someone so stubborn.

Tea wouldn’t give him the caffeine shakes he needed, but he also couldn’t drink a refrigerated energy drink with how cold everything was. The kind of cold that made him want to curl up under the heat lamp with his full winter gear on at the bottom of a turtle pile or--

So that was how Raph found him microwaving two monster energy drinks at ten in the morning. He didn’t deserve that weirded out look. It wasn’t like they were still in their cans anymore. Leo remembered that after three seconds of his own personal lightshow.

“But, why?” Was all that Raph asked.

Leo shrugged, “Want a hot energy drink. You want some too? I might be on to a new thing here.”

And that got Raph to laugh, which did a decent job warming Leo up from the inside out. Would have probably completely thawed him out if it weren’t for the stupid curse thing.

He’d let the curse be permanent if he could keep making Raph laugh and not worry.

He was worried though. Clearly wanted to say something and kept stopping himself in the middle of it. Eventually, the slider gave him a noogie and kept on walking while he told him to keep it to just the one drink.

It was because the dude kept walking, that he didn’t see Leo’s whole body turn to follow him before stopping himself. This was good. That’s what Leo wanted to have happened. Excellent.

Raph kept moving away from him. Awesome. Opening the fridge and letting out the cold air that Leo could swear he could feel from all the way over here. The room seemed to keep getting colder and colder while Raph rummaged through their deli meats.

Leo willed himself to stay right there and watch the numbers count down for his incoming hot drink. Because if he pushed Raph to hurry up and close the door, then he was not going to let go of the big guy who everyone knew felt like a furnace. And Leo was proving to Raph that he could take care of himself almost more than anyone else. Even Donnie. But proving it to Donnie was important for spite and winning, while proving it to Raph was important for like, the world.

Regardless, the slider didn’t let himself move. Just hugged himself while watching the numbers countdown to zero. Raph said something, but Leo was currently too busy burning his tongue on this hot carbonated curse from hell. He almost spat it right back out, but forced himself to keep chugging the weirdly syrupy and steamy beverage. And because of mystic bullshit, it didn’t warm him up.

Stupid mystic whatever with it’s stupid stupid. Fine.

It could keep him from getting warm, but the caffeine should still be kicking in soon. That would get rid of the cotton in his head and the general blegugh feeling weighing him down. Now he just needed something solid so he wouldn’t get the no-food-shakes too badly and--

Raph’s hand was on his shoulder. Leo jumped so violently that it left just as fast as it appeared. There, thankfully, hadn’t been any time to get used to the warmth.

The two of them stared at one another, blinking in confusion before Raph pointed at the family sized frozen pizza, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I was asking if--uh--Are you going to be staying long enough to have some?”

“You’re good, dude,” Leo responded automatically, feeling that same sinking feeling of shame whenever Raph apologized for anything these days, “I should have been paying attention--”

“It’s cool. Makes sense that a drink like that would fry your brain.”

“What? Nah, it’s the… best? I was actually just about to make myself another?”

“Pfft! Raph has never seen your poker face be so poor for anything!”

To try and prove his point, and also double down, Leo quickly tried to chug the remaining half of the new radioactive ooze he had made. It showed that what Draxum had done really wasn’t special. He could do it in their underground kitchen no sweat.

And the end result of his bravado had him burping uncontrollably and feeling like he might throw up. Leo was making some very concerning burping noises into the sink while he listened to Raph howl with laughter behind him. It was the most Leo had made him laugh since the invasion, and the sound was like an auditory heated blanket. It was warming him up from the inside out.

That was also because, he realized, Raph was rubbing his back. The way he used to do. Like back when they were kids, or back in the old lair, or when Raph still genuinely liked him.

It was so close to being a hug, and its effects were addictive. Raph’s large hand rubbing across his upper back left a warm feeling in its wake. Just like with Mikey, it made every other part of his body colder by comparison. Like he had splinters all over his body, and Raph had removed them only around his shoulder blades.

“You okay?”

The hand paused in its movements, and Leo almost whined with protest. And realized he was practically hanging onto the sink while his legs had gone weirdly boneless. Who knows how long it had been since the Burps from Hell had stopped, and he had just been standing there. Letting Raph rub his back like there weren’t a billion and one other things Leo should be doing at that very moment.

He couldn’t remember what a single one of those things were, but he knew they existed. The first step was taking a biiiig step away from his very confused big brother. And--aw, shit, the Raph Chasm was back. C’mon, Face Man.

“You got me!” Leo made himself laugh, so Raph wouldn’t be able to see him shiver, “Yeah, that was a bad idea! I’ll go--uh--get something at a bodega or something! I can--yeah! Whoops! Enjoy that pizza!”

“What’s this? Nardo isn’t staying for lunch? Shocking.”

The words got Leo’s mind to go sharp. That was good. Sharp could cut through the cold, and the uncomfortable ache and weirdly itchy feeling that was growing. Like someone had replaced his skin with sandpaper and snow.

Leo walked past his two brothers with a, “Just saving more for you guys! Everyone knows Donnie’s gotta eat! I leave him in your guys’ capable hands! Tah-tah!”

And left for patrol.

Patrol was fine. He ran around and helped people.

He was going to, once he stopped stopping every other rooftop to catch his breath. It wasn’t even like he was winded. But he couldn’t get in the zone like he could last time. And nothing big enough was happening to help keep his attention--

Which was GOOD. It’s not like he wanted bad things to happen to anyone. The city had been put through enough thanks to him. So, this was ideal. It was just his job to keep running around, checking the police alerts, and be there for others when--if he was ever needed. That would be the good thing to do.

So he tried not to feel too much relief when he heard some boaters had gotten themselves stuck in the middle of the Hudson. He could go and save the Coast Guard a trip or something.

It was simple and easy. Portaled to the river. Find the dudes who needed saving. Reconsider his plan to just put a portal under their boat. It could land weird and break. So Leo decided to portal himself over. He’d land on top and portal everyone to safety. It made more sense on how that would work in his head. In his head, doing that would keep everyone happier with him. That meant he was doing good. Which meant

And Leo didn’t stop to consider that the boat was made for specifically two kayakers. So when he landed his big mouth on it, the dumb plastic thing immediately capsized and dunked them all in the stinky river.

If Leo hadn’t already been keeping what Donnie had described as, “a worryingly tight grip on his swords to the point the action could be considered to be anal retentive personality” then he might have lost them. But, he didn't lose them, and he had cleverly responded with “haha, you said anal.”

The point was. Leo didn’t lose control of himself or his swords and was able to portal both the kayakers to safety.

But the boat. The dumb, stupid, probably expensive boat, went zooming down the river at an annoying speed.

Fine. Leo was a great swimmer. He’d find their stupid boat so they’d be fine and not regret not waiting for the Coast Guard or taking an impromptu swim. Cause Leo would get the boat, and not make their lives any worse. Cause these were good actions which meant he was doing good so he was being good so he was good.

That’s what he told himself when he would take a breath, and watch the cloud of mist appear. Because who goes kayaking in February? Dumb, nice, well-meaning tourists who didn’t know how badly Leo--

There it was. The stupid boat. He portaled it back to the tourists who were already being helped out by actual heroes that wouldn’t have gotten them wet or their boat almost lost. Getting professional care from dudes who knew what they were doing, and not putting on an act the entire time.

Leo portaled himself to a random rooftop and shivered. That was becoming annoyingly recurring. But now with the stupid shit curse and the stupid shit water he was freezing and cold and he wanted to go home but that’s not what taking care of himself would look like. He didn’t get a hug cause--

Wow. That. The thought made him weirdly emotional. Leo didn’t get a hug. He could still have hugs from his family before this curse. But, what if it never got broken? That would mean that--

…

Deep breath. It wasn’t about him. He’d show them. Show Donnie. He was fine. He was good. He was a good brother and a good turtle-person and WOW HE WAS COLD.

Pit stop. He’d keep doing patrol after he dried off. Go home and--

His stupid portals weren’t working. They were taking him to random places again. Started doing this whole annoying routine again after the invasion, and this was probably the worst time for that to happen. Which was great cool and fine and

Warm. Finally.

Yes, he still ached and itched in an annoying way that he could feel down to the marrow of his bones. And he was still freezing, but was warmer than before and he would take it. So he just stood there. Even though if he did stuff like, grab a towel he could dry off faster. There was no way he was taking one step away from whatever was this warm.

“Pepino?”

Aw, c’mon.

Leo had portaled right in front of Hueso’s oven. The oven that the skeleton needed to be putting in a fresh pie right about now. Leo only wished a little bit that he could just climb in the brick oven alongside the ‘za but, that probably would just create more problems down the line.

“S-S-S-S-S’UP!” He forced himself to yell out after an annoying amount of stuttering since his teeth would not stop chattering! It was so over the top! This kind of stuff was only supposed to happen in cartoons!

And that got Hueso to put down the pan and aw c’mon, Leo didn’t have time for this! Neither did the skeleton! That’s why Leo hadn’t really come here since that one time to prove he was okay! They were both busy! Busy being good!

That’s what Leo was trying to explain, in a much cooler way of course, before Hueso stopped him by putting his hands on both of Leo’s shoulders.

It wasn’t exactly like how it had been with Raph and Mikey. Probably something to do with lack of flesh or not? But the relief was still instant, even if not as intense. Like he was finally allowed out of the cold, even if the freezer door was still open. The whole thing made him want to reach out and hug

“Yeah!” Leo shouted, interrupting whatever Hueso had been saying, “M-M-My bad! I’m going right now--”

“You sit down right now or so help me I will--!”

Didn’t have to shout. Going back to the cold and the ache with the itch seemed doubly bad than if he had just stayed in it.

So, malicious compliance. Leo sat down right there on the floor. Or, like, fell to his hands and knees. Point was, he was being good and following the rules. Crawled over to lean against the wall while he waited to hear what else Hueso wanted from him.

This wasn’t so bad. In the grand scheme of whatever, this was nothing. Leo was just uncomfy. There wasn’t anything physically wrong with him.

Which is why it didn’t make sense when Hueso asked, “What is wrong?”

“Ha,” Leo laughed, forcing long and even breaths, “You should--You should ask that to Donnie the next time you see him… Moron hasn’t been taking…taking good care of himself. Never sleeps, never eats, and he’s impossible to talk to.”

That’s who was really bad at taking care of themselves, and had the audacity to try and project it onto Leo. He had enough about himself he was trying to fix, thank you very much! But, he was doing it! Donnie was the rude dude with attitude who was trying to stop his cool self improvement journey or whatever. Throwing stones out of his glass house, only to bounce off of Leo’s totally cool impenetrable house.

And his words didn’t seem to be helping Hueso at all. Okay. Desperate measures.

“I also got a bad case of the literal Cuddles, if you can believe it.”

That time, his words made everything click together for Hueso. And the skeleton gently leaned down and enveloped him in such a nice hug. It was so nice, that it really made all the parts of him that weren’t feeling as nice suck even more. Like, what?

Like how to distract yourself from one pain with another. This hug was taking just enough away from him to leave Leo wanting to cry or run or something. The impossible feeling of feeling worse while doing better.

“You need a hug, and a long one by the sounds of it, by someone you are closer to. By someone you yourself want a hug from.”

His laugh in response to that was not wet.

“Your hugs are always nice. And we’re close, aren’t we?”

Hueso nodded, “Yes, sobrino. Now, eat something and go hug your brothers.”

Grateful to get away from all that wonderful warmth, he stole a slice from a fresh pie and portaled away with some clever joke he couldn’t remember.

And instead of landing in his room like he planned, he fell face first onto the sewer floor. Only managing to keep ahold of his swords, and not the nice gift slice. Great. Cool.

As he walked home, he debated if he should get something else to eat first. And then he thought about if the others had eaten.

Raph and Mikey were really good at making sure the other one ate. Which had been especially important post invasion. Raph had gotten more sensitive to certain food textures, and Mikey’s appetite had been shot. They held each other accountable and worked together to make sure the other stayed fed.

And Donnie…

Well, he also had another food texture to be crossed off his list. That was fine. So did Leo, even if he would never admit it. None of them would be craving calamari ever again.

Donnie benefitted from having Raph and Mikey around. They were a good influence. Even if they couldn’t get Leo to eat as much as they liked, that was fine. Leo was taking care of himself. His twin was the one who needed taking care of. Once he admitted it, everything could go back to the way--

No. He couldn’t think like that anymore either. Things would never go back to normal. Where it was non stop fun and goofs. Because the world was dangerous and they could end up dead if Leo didn’t take it seriously.

But, he could still have fun. The world was worth fighting for. He felt like he cherished and appreciated his family more than ever before, if that were possible. This new normal was fine, as long as they were all together while Leo worked on doing good.

… Was this good? Walking home alone in the sewer, feeling like he was going to freeze solid with every step?

Or, what if he never got home? That he was just walking forever in some sort of stupid purgatory cause he really did die in

“Wow, welcome back. You’re looking good.”

“I know I’m looking better than you are,” Leo responded on autopilot, “Cause you, once again, don’t look like you’ve slept in days.”

“Yeah? Well at least I don’t smell like--Wait, what happened to you?”

Leo didn’t remember when he shut his eyes, but when he opened them, he was under the intense scrutiny of the one and only Donatello with his dumb goggles. And, most importantly, a hand grabbing his arm to keep him from moving.

Something something data points, every time Leo got even the smallest kind of embrace or whatever, it was going to be worse when it stopped. That was a fact his brain was screaming at him now. To shake off Donnie and get it over with. Cause it was only going to get worse before it got better. So rip off that bandaid and jump into that portal before Casey loses his nerve--

“--and what kind of mystic bullshit happened here?! Damnit! Nardo I swear--”

“Oh? You don’t know?” Leo scrambled for a purchase on this possible moral high ground, “Wow! Then it sounds like since I do know what’s going on, I can take care of it myself. Since you don’t know what’s going on. So you can’t help.”

Maybe it had been too mean, by the look that put on his twin’s face was anything to go off by.

But, it got Donnie to yank away and take all the relief with him. Leaving the curse or whatever to redouble.

And, the dude didn’t even really say anything. Just walked away. Slamming a door somewhere.

Cause Leo was taking care of it. This was the good thing to do for… someone. Eventually. Probably.

Day 5

Leo didn’t really remember Day 4.

Vaguely, he remembers shivering in bed. Trying to will himself to move. And then Splinter was checking his temperature and--

If the pain doubled with every released almost hug, then so did the relief. The sensation did not make him cry, but he was ordered to stay on bedrest while he got Purple.

Ha. Jokes on him. Donnie knew now that Leo could take care of himself. The only thing he hadn’t done was admit it out loud.

So, before Splinter could come back empty handed, he’s pretty sure he went on patrol again. Maybe somewhere. Hopefully still New York, since that’s where he had the most hero make-up work to do.

He was just so cold.

That was the worst part. He wasn’t hurt or dying. Wasn’t anywhere near that. And he couldn’t even keep his eyes open; he was shivering too hard. Every step felt like he was moving through air made of fiberglass.

No idea how long he was walking until he remembers sitting on the rooftop edge. Trying to block the wind. There wasn’t supposed to be wind in space.

His phone was buzzing. There wasn’t supposed to be cell service in space either. He remembers watching a documentary on that one time with his family. And there was no way his phone wasn’t just rubble by this point either.

But when he pulled it out of his pocket, there it was. The screen wasn’t even cracked. There should be some sort of humor to that, cause like

Leo always had a cracked phone screen, and he knows his shell must be severely cracked right now. How is his phone going to survive this but not him? Is he really not made of tougher stuff than that?

With numb fingers, he answers one of the calls. It might be Raph’s. Hopefully it’s Raph. He’ll be able to keep everyone safe and--

“WHERE ARE YOU?!”

That was Raph's voice. Or, no, it was Donnie’s voice? No, it was everyone’s voice. They were all talking over one another. Or something. But

Leo was where he was supposed to be, while they were they were supposed to be. The only way for him to do good. So he was good. Just like them.

They were all still yelling at him when he remembered to ask, “You guys okay?”

Donnie was the only one speaking now. Something about how he was gonna kill Leo for removing his tracking chip. But, that probably wouldn’t work with where he was now. No more satellites and stuff so. You know.

“Nardo what are you talking about? Shut up--or don’t--just tell us where you are!”

The question didn’t make sense. Didn’t they watch him? Or, did Raph have them turn away? That would probably be for the best. But, then why were they still looking for him?

“Watch you do what?! You--AUGH! I’m going to strap you down to a bed myself when I catch you--”

No, what? C’mon. They weren’t supposed to… Like, if they couldn’t get him back right away, they were supposed to move on and stuff. Not spend this much time on him.

“Let me, c’mon, let me talk to him--! Leo! Hey, you’re gonna be okay buddy! Is there any sort of signal you can give us? Or, can you tell us what you see around you?”

Leo shook his head at Raph’s voice before remembering they couldn’t hear that.

“Can’t open my eyes… hurts…”

Shouldn’t have said that. Don’t want Mikey to hear.

“That’s okay!” Mikey begged, “Just, can you tell us anything about where you are? Are you still in New York?”

He guessed a part of him always would be? What was--

“GOT IT!” Donnie screamed almost manically, “FINALLY traced his phone! MAN I am hard to track. Okay, are you in this building or on the roof? Cause it’s a big building and--”

That didn’t make any sense. But, that was okay. Donnie was smart like that. Understood things that Leo didn’t. He should have listened to them all before but. Now he was out of time.

“I’m sorry, you guys,” He whispered, “I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you--”

“Do not be sorry nothing to be sorry about--”

Donnie was demanding before Mikey must have taken the phone and asked, “Why are you whispering?”

“Don’t know how much longer… until he finds me,” Leo whispered again, “I love you guys so much. I should have listened.”

His heart was screaming at him to shut up. That last minute words like this just leave loved ones feeling sad. Should have just kept it at his cool, off the cuff hero move talk. That was nice. Wouldn’t haunt them.

They could move on and Leo hoped he would too.

There was some sort of whirl noise like it was coming from a mini helicopter. Maybe? It was a machine noise. Which meant that he’d been found in whatever hiding spot he’d been thrown into. So

“I got you.”

Warmth.

That led to day Five

“Nope, your math is wrong,” Donnie told him from somewhere in the turtle pile, “You were cursed for approximately forty-four hours. Not even close to five days.”

“Prebby sure ish five,” Leo mumbled, head feeling like warm mush. Like fresh mash potatoes from Mikey.

“Eww!” Mikey chuckled from somewhere directly above him, “Not a mashed potato brain!”

All Leo could do was give him a sleepy hum of confirmation.

“Okay, potato head,” Raph was somehow enveloping them, but that’s just what big brothers did and Leo learned not to question it, “Glad you aren’t questioning big brother rules. Now, take another bite.”

It was some sort of warm porridge with little strips of meat and hunks of veggies and it made Leo want to cry with how delicious it was. How it made him feel impossibly warmer and safer with every bite.

But then Raph would say that he would need to pace himself and take it away.

Right. Cause. Can’t last. Gotta keep moving on. Do good.

“You’re doing good,” Raph said, “You’re good.”

The good things come and then they go. And when they go it hurts more.

“Factually incorrect,” Donnie soothed, Leo didn’t know why he had his soothing voice on, “Life is sadly, wonderfully, far more complex than that. That’s why it is so important to have others help you… Which is something I have been neglecting to do.”

Everything was still so warm and comfortable, but,

“I wanna be good without help. So no one else gets hurt.”

His words got him another bite of porridge.

“You’re good,” Raph repeated again, “And it’s good to let us help you. Cause, you’re gonna help us too, right?”

Mikey was making some noise of affirmation, while Leo tried to open his eyes again. Now, he was only having trouble doing that because he was so tired.

“We help each other so we can take care of each other!” Mikey wiped something off of Leo’s cheek, “Life sometimes hurts, but that’s why we help one another, yeah?”

It still didn’t feel right. If anything, it felt like giving up. Letting others get hurt for him ever, wasn’t

“You saved us before,” Donnie said, tightening his hug, “And you’re right that we can’t take care of ourselves--I can’t even take care of myself. So, if you keep saving us, then we’ll keep saving you.”

“But… what if you…”

“Then you’ll save us. And we’ll save you.” Donnie repeated again, “Mikey’s right, that’s just how it works. If you’re worried about us, work with us and we’ll work with you.”

The turtle pile squeezed impossibly closer as Raph tightened his embrace, “We got each other.”

Well. If Raph said it, then it must be true.

That got him a raspberry from Mikey and a dramatic gasp from his twin.

Okay, he could do that. They’d have each other.

[notjustjavierpena]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT Husband Javier and the reader are fighting the whole day but trying to repress it because of their kids- After they're asleep the two are arguing again and then boom makeup sex 😋 thank you angel !!!!

Fight

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This request literally had me up all night, and now it has come to life and possibly turned into one of the most sensual pieces I’ve ever written. I’m obsessed with them. 

Summary: You feel overlooked and unappreciated. Javier says the wrong thing and hell breaks loose, but he also knows how to say sorry. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (mdni!), domestic life and dynamic, grownups being assholes to each other, hurt/comfort, saying sorry to each other and to your kids because I’m healing my inner child, crying, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, passionate and rough sex, MAKEUP SEX!!!, clit stim, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, love love love, they are just crazy about each other 

Word count: 4.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596877

Fight

Chucho Peña is coming over tomorrow and that’s fine. 

You’ve made plans to make plans at this point though. The list of things you need to do before he arrives still gets longer every time you have a moment to think about it to yourself, teeny tiny details adding up to a day that’ll keep you busy from the moment you wake up. It would have been fine if you didn’t have to get the kids out of bed and prepared for school, and then go to work too, right on top of cleaning, shopping, cooking, and hosting — at 34 weeks pregnant.

Javier is Javier about it, reassuring you that it will be fine and that you just need to take a breath whilst he stands in the door to the garden, back towards you and smoking his morning cigarette whilst you try to tell Inés that she should have cornflakes instead of lucky charms for breakfast. 

“Oh,” Javier says after stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray that Lucas has made for him in arts and crafts class. He turns around and rests against the doorframe, “Can we have that chocolate cake you made last time? The one with the white chocolate frosting?”

You never personally thought that you’d ever get into an argument about chocolate cake. If you’d said this to the child version of yourself, she would have laughed out loud and told you that nobody could ever be angry about anything to do with dessert. Especially not chocolate desserts. Yet here you are, letting your fatigue get the better of you.

“Sure,” you let out a loud sigh, dragging it out to really let your husband know that you are not happy about his input, “Sure, Javi, I’ll just add it to my ever-growing list of things I need to do for your father.”

You hear it as soon as it leaves your mouth but you’re too stubborn to backtrack, watching Javier go rigid in the door. He furrows his brow in confusion, and then his expression turns into a frown and eventually a scowl. He doesn’t look downright angry but not happy either. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks defensively, body language telling you that he is getting ready for another attack. He enters the kitchen like he is walking on eggshells, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I only asked you if we could. You have every right to say no, and not be pi—“

Inés looks up at him with big brown eyes that are similar to his own. He swallows down the word, replaces it with something more child-friendly, “And not be rude about it.”

“Say no and watch you be a giant toddler about it? Great, I’ll definitely choose that,” you scoff, running on autopilot and clearing the kitchen counter whilst you argue. Out of the corner, you see Inés starting to squirm in her seat but you’re too far gone by now, “It’s not even my father, and I have to do everything for the preparation because you’re oh-so-important.”

“So we’re just never having my dad over ever again?” Javier seethes, mouth twitching in anger and threatening to put on a violent smile. He has some kind of ability to piss you even more off when he is just about to smile during arguments. 

“That’s not what I said, and that’s not the point,” you stubbornly bend down, hand on your round belly, to put your own plate into the dishwasher. Sebastian is due soon, kicking you as your pulse rises due to anger. Javier looks like he is contemplating whether to help you straighten again or not. 

“Then what is the point?”

With a hand on the edge of the kitchen counter, you manage to stand upright once more. You face Javier, finally scowling right back at him and he seems to shrink a little underneath your fury, “I’m exhausted, Javier. When do you think I have had a night to myself? I know you have a busy schedule, I do, but God—“

You drag the last word out, running a hand through your hair in frustration, “But you went out with Steve just days ago. I need to cook, clean, do the grocery shopping, take care of two kids, and - by the way - do it all with someone kicking my bladder every goddamn minute of the day. Which - by the way - is your doing.”

There is no reason to sound as venomous as you do, but you suspect that half of it is exhaustion and the other half is hormones getting the better of you and ridding you of better judgment. 

“Fine, you win,” Javier makes a display of holding his hands up in surrender but he mixes it with a roll of his eyes, and you almost go for his throat, “I’m a terrible husband.”

“Oh, you did not ju—“ You raise your voice.

Suddenly, you hear sniffling beside you. It pulls you right out of your head and makes you observe your surroundings, and with the way that Javier flinches, it seems to be doing the same to him. 

Inés' little voice breaks your heart, the sight of her even more so when you see she has covered her ears with her hands, “Mamá. Why are you yelling at Papá? Don’t you like each other anymore?”

Javier sends you a look that makes your stomach drop, something that tells you that you are not done here. He looks absolutely furious with you, especially after seeing his daughter cry.

But then he sucks in a deep breath and crosses the room to crouch down beside Inés. He rubs her back soothingly, “Nos gustamos mucho, mija.”

Your legs have made you join them before your brain can even get the idea. Ever so gently, you run your hand over Inés' hair, “I’m so sorry, baby. We won’t shout anymore. Sometimes we get bad feelings. Remember when we talked about those?”

Javier looks at you with his mouth still a thin line and you glare back at him without Inés seeing. He straightens to get a piece of paper towel, first dabbing his daughter’s eyes and then blowing her nose afterward. 

Lucas Peña peeks into the kitchen from the hallway. He looks like someone who has just woken up, hair sticking out in the same way that his father’s sometimes does, but it’s accompanied by a concerned expression on his face as he watches the scene in the kitchen, “Why were you fighting?”

“We weren’t fighting,” you reassure and hold out your arm. Lucas goes to press into your side, and you respond to his affection by resting a hand on his head, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Lucas replies but he doesn’t sound convinced. 

From the outside, it probably looks like the perfect family portrait but you can feel Javier is fuming underneath the surface. He leaves Inés’ side to throw the snotty paper towel out, his shoulders still tense.

“Lucas, can you take your sister into the bathroom and brush your teeth?” You say as neutrally as you can muster, faking a smile down at him as he looks up at you, “I’ll be right there.”

“What about breakfast?” He asks.

“I’ll make you a sandwich for the bus ride. Whatever you want, but we’re already late,” you tell him, and it seems to work as he takes Inés’ hand in his own and leads her out of the room.

When Javier and you are alone again, an uncomfortable silence settles between the two of you. Javier stands against the counter, palms flat on its surface and you can hear the sound of the clock in the background, ticking by as the silence stretches. 

You are just about to apologize when Javier turns around. His eyes are wild with fury, not at all as submissive as just moments earlier when you had been the angry one. He points at you, mustache twitching with disgust that you are sure must be directed at himself too, because he says, “Never in front of the kids. I don’t care how angry you are. We don’t do that.”

You can feel your bottom lip tremble. 

Javier leaves the kitchen instead of comforting you. 

You force a smile, trying your hardest to sound cheerful while tears spill down your cheeks, “Lucas, what do you want on your sandwich?” 

*

The rest of the day goes by without any resolve, and it feels like there’s a brick lying heavy on your chest and making you on the verge of tears all day. Despite this, you manage to get everything on today’s list done before dinner and yes, you buy the ingredients for the stupid chocolate cake, making an effort to ‘casually’ leave the recipe on the counter for Javier to see. It results in him emptying and refilling the dishwasher without a word. 

During your bedtime routine, Lucas looks worried. He tugs at your hand when you are just about to leave and you can see the cogs turn in his head as he strings together a sentence, “Mom… It’s okay if you and Dad were angry at each other. I just don’t like it when you cry and… and I want you to say sorry. That’s what you make me do when I get angry at you or Dad. Or Inés.”

Your heart hurts from the love that’s barely able to be contained inside of it. With every single muscle in your body being strained, you manage to bend down to hug his head close to your chest, “Mijo.”

“No, don’t be sad,” he says quickly, hugging you back. 

“I’m not, baby. These are good tears because I love you so much,” you kiss his head, “I’m so proud of being your mom, baby. You know this, right?”

Lucas pulls back and you quickly wipe your tears away. He studies your face for a second, “Y-yes, I love you too, Mom, but you need to say sorry to Dad.”

You nod, struggle a little as you try to get up and say your final goodnight. On the way out, you desperately brush more tears out of your face because looking at the photos in the hallway makes them well up in your eyes once more. 

Javier is tying the strings of his pajama pants as you enter your shared bedroom. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you strip yourself naked except for your underwear, and not even when you pull a tank top over your head that’s barely covering your pregnant belly anymore. You’re unsure of what to say to get a reaction from him. The silence screams. 

“I’m sorry,” you eventually settle for. 

Javier turns to you then. His eyes rest on you for a moment before he speaks, “I’m sorry too. I get it… wanting time to yourself. I just didn’t know that was what you needed.”

He is hugging you soon after, strong arms around your exhausted frame. Your round stomach bumps against his flat one, and he lets go with one arm in favor of resting a hand where Sebastian usually kicks during the evening hours. It’s thankfully quiet right now, as if he senses that you need it.

“I wish you could just see how much invisible work I put into this house,” you say softly into his shoulder, “I feel so underappreciated and overwhelmed sometimes.”

“And I wish you would tell me how you’re feeling instead of treating me like a damn mind reader,” he sighs deeply, and you respond by getting defensive again. You’re just about to pull away with an annoyed groan. 

“No, no, c’mere,” he tugs you back into his arms and you let him because you’re feeling generous. His hands cradle your face, “I don’t wanna fight. Please. I hate fighting with you. I’m sorry.” 

“You make me so furious,” you whine as he bumps your nose with his own, feeling tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and one sliding down to drip from your chin. Javier tuts, catches it with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, baby,” his mouth curls downward as he says it, puppy dog eyes on their highest setting, “I know how much you do. I do. I’m just— you know how I am. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Javier embraces you once more as you blink tears away, dragging in a deep breath. The air in the bedroom smells like him, comforting and safe, and it makes it hard to keep concentrating on your fight and easier to fall into him. 

“I love you,” you mumble into his shoulder, and holy fuck, you do - every single day, hour, minute and second. He is your best friend, your husband, the face of your children, and most importantly, you know that he does his best for you.

It seems that those three words are exactly what he wants to hear because you feel his hands curl around the hem of your tank top. You don’t protest, relishing in the gentle touch of his fingertips against your back as he pulls the piece of clothing up and over your head. 

Your shoulders come down to relax from having been tensed up. You haven’t even noticed how much energy you have been using on straining your muscles, but now that you are calming again, you can feel how upset you’ve actually been throughout the day. 

“I love you too,” he promises. Your heart drums in your chest. The way he says it makes arousal burn below your belly button, a gentle tingling, and swirling sensation pleasantly taking over your whole pelvic floor. 

You look down between the two of you to see that Javier is already half-hard in his pajama pants, words seemingly having had the very same effect on him too. You start untying the strings of his pants slowly until you can tug them down over his hips, and he mirrors you to remove your underwear. 

Both of your bottoms pool around your feet, and when you have both stepped out of them, Javier pulls you close by your elbows. He catches your mouth in a desperate kiss, and you melt into him in a way that an apology could never make him feel. 

He pushes you back towards the bed whilst never breaking the searing kiss. Your hair is a mess in his hands, heartbeat speeding up as everything moves so fast from then on out; he helps you down onto the bed like the gentleman he is, manhandles you onto your side like the man you were swept off your feet by years ago and finally presses his front up against your back.  

“I want you,” you say in unison, and it makes you giggle at how in sync you are with each other despite having spent the day fighting over something already long forgotten. Especially when his arm scoops underneath you to cage you against his chest, hand tightening around your shoulder to hold you in place. 

Javier leans over you slightly to kiss the giggles away, bends your knees a little with his free hand so he can let it wander over you. He touches you up along your thigh as you place a pillow under your pregnant belly, takes his time holding you tightly, “Get hotter and hotter every day, mi amor.”

You press your ass back into his crotch, cunt throbbing with impatience as you hear the tiny groan that he lets out. He is so hard against the roundness of your behind, cocktip leaking steadily against your warm skin when he grinds right back into you. 

“Put it in,” you plead softly. Your hands come up to grip his forearm that is secured just above your tits, “Javi, please. I need it so bad.”

He is silent behind you as he works. The anticipation is unbearable when it is mixed with the unnerving need to have an outlet for all the intense emotions that you have just been through, your pussy quivering in desperation to be deliciously stretched out to transform your feelings into something physical. 

Suddenly, you feel the thick head of his cock between your thighs and you ready yourself for intrusion. Luckily, he doesn’t make you wait, guides himself into you in a slow motion until he is fully sheathed inside you. 

“Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can, nails digging his arm from how hard you are gripping it.

“I know, ahh fuck, shhh,” he soothes but the way his voice sounds makes you believe that he is just as close to losing his mind, “Be quiet, baby. Just let me make you feel fucking amazing. Need a pillow between your knees too?”

You nod, and he is right there with his own pillow to help you get even more comfortable in bed with him. God, why were you even fighting? Something about cake? Either way, it seems beyond ridiculous. 

His nose is in your neck, his hand travels up to cup your breast and then he moves his body for a very first thrust inside of you. It makes your eyes nearly roll back into your skull when he keeps the pace lazy and deep, barely pulling out with each roll of his hips. 

“You feel so good,” he praises whilst mouthing along the most sensitive spot on your neck, “Makes me never wanna leave. Wanna live here.”

“Inside me?” You chuckle breathlessly. 

“Forever,” he gives you a slightly harder thrust, the first where the noise of his skin slapping against yours resonates through the bedroom. You moan in surprise, and he hushes you once more, “Don’t let them wake up and think momma is in pain.”

“Definitely not in pain.”

Javier lets out the quietest laugh. It’s almost unfair how good he is at keeping it down compared to you, but you don’t think you’ll mind having his big palm cover your mouth if you end up causing trouble. It almost happens when he pinches an overly sensitive nipple, making it harden immediately under his touch. 

“Help me spread my legs a little more,” you beg at a low decibel. 

The hand on your tit gropes obscenely and shakes for a moment before it slips down and caresses your belly on the way. Still lying on your side, he smacks the fleshiest part of where your ass and thigh meet before he cups the back of your knee so he can lift.

The move gives you the access you need to rub your cunt, two fingers going in taut little circles around the swollen nub. You rock with him too, and it goes on until you come with your back arched, releasing a short and hot breath that you didn’t notice you had been holding until it turns into a loud and accidental moan. 

“That’s my girl,” he moans too as you clench rhythmically and choke his dick when you release the built-up tension. When your orgasm reaches its peak, Javier’s hand on your shoulder moves to cover your mouth at the fear of you making enough noise to have the door burst open with unwelcome visitors, “I know it’s hard, mi vida, but - shit - but be quiet.”

You take the opportunity to let out a drawn-out and helpless cry into his hand as the sweet pleasure goes on for a few moments more. Then you slump, and he gently moves your leg down again to put less strain on your body. 

“My God,” he talks into your ear, thrusts never slowing down and you swear that you can feel his cock jump with every weak noise you make, “I love you so much. Love your little cunt too, she takes me so well.”

Javier’s hand comes down to grip the extra pounds on your hips. He tugs at the flesh almost painfully, but your exhaustion and dopamine overload are making you too delirious to notice that it’s to the point of bruising. He holds tight and uses the grasp that he has on you to pull you down onto his cock over and over. 

It takes no time to make a second orgasm stir in the pits of your stomach. Your moans change once more as your body starts responding to him fucking you so hard. 

“You think you can come again?” He rasps into your ear, and when the head of his cock slides teasingly over your favorite little spot inside of yourself, you nod frantically and it feels like you are about to cry actual tears. Fuck yes, you can come as many times as he wants. 

“Mhm, won’t take long,” you whimper and use all your willpower to lift your leg over your husband’s thigh until you are spread widely. Your belly is still comfortably supported in the new position, but now that your front is stretched taut and fully exposed like a well-trained and submissive animal, it enhances the feeling of Javier gliding over your g-spot repeatedly.

Javier removes the arm that he has caged you in with, but whereas it gives you a moment to heave a breath of air into the very bottom of your lungs, he quickly takes it away from you as he reaches up with his other hand to grab your throat. He doesn’t squeeze like he normally would when you are not pregnant, but the anticipation of him doing it makes your head swim. 

And then he is absolutely brutal in his thrusts, and before you know it, you are coming with your clit untouched and a strangled sob. The convulsions are so intense that your thighs shake, your toes curl and your eyes screw shut. 

You reach up to put your hand on the back of Javier’s head, holding on tightly as he pounds into you from behind throughout your orgasm. The way he pants tells you that he is close, and when you yank the tiny curls at the nape of his neck, he starts to chase his release. 

“Javi,” you whisper loudly as he slams into your sensitive cunt, “Give it to me. Pleasepleaseplease. Need you to fill me up.”

“Fu— oh shit,” Javier swears in a low, rough growl as he snaps his hips a few last times before stilling inside of you. He feels impossibly big inside your cunt as he pumps you full of his come, cockhead resting at your cervix and coating you in warmth. 

“Jesus, we’re terrible at being quiet,” you whisper as he pants. You let your leg come down onto the other once again, a giggle suddenly building up in your chest. He starts laughing whilst still inside of you, hugging you tightly into his chest and nuzzling his nose into your cheek.

“They sleep through it, don’t gotta worry about it much anymore, I think,” he notes without care, kissing your cheek repeatedly despite still not having calmed his breath. You smile widely as you stare at the ceiling, overtaken by the love you feel for him every time he gets you to post-orgasmic bliss. 

“We need a date night soon though, Jesus. Perhaps Pop could take the kids home with him tomorrow after dinner and I could… do this again,” he smacks your ass playfully, then strokes your hip in soothing circles, and you almost purr like a cat at the gentle move, “Without a mute button on my pretty wife’s mouth, of course.”

“I’d like that,” you say with a soft and sweet sigh, acknowledging his attempt to make things from earlier up to you, “Been a while since you’ve made me scream. Wanna take our time.” 

Javier reaches down between you to pull out before he is completely soft. You hiss at being left empty when you are so spent, but Javier quickly distracts you with another string of kisses to your cheek and the corner of your mouth. He adds to the fantasy, “And then I’ll draw you a bath and you can spend as much time alone as you want. Don’t gotta be no one to anyone.” 

He moves on the bed as far as his arm that’s trapped beneath you allows him, going for the packet of wet wipes you keep on the nightstand. He had suggested them when it had become too hard during your third trimester for you to get out of bed after sex. He hands you a few and you hold them over your mound, enjoying the coolness of them.

“You know the way to my heart,” you say, wiggling a little and feeling his come seep out. It makes your nose crinkle.

“Well, I did convince you to marry me,” he replies. 

“Worst decision I’ve ever made,” you tease. Javier wraps his other arm around you, hand splayed on your belly. 

The position you are in is uncomfortable; Javier’s arm underneath you has got to be asleep by now and you feel damp with sweat due to him being like a furnace against your back.

Still, you both drift off slowly into the soundest sleep. You don’t wake up until two unexpected visitors barge in at the most ungodly hours of the morning, causing you to scramble for the blanket to cover your bodies up and hide the come-stained wet wipes in the nightstand drawer.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[wisedelusionalmarshmallow]

@rosekillermicrofic, September 6th - Book, T, Word Count - 721

It was a really regular day today at the bookstore where Barty works.

Like really regular.

Like 'all of his regulars came in today' regular. 

The couple who comes here every two weeks to buy two books. Barty learned that they trade the books once they’re done with them and then have bookclub-style date nights. Which is really cute but totally not his thing.

The old ladies who come here for an actual bookclub. Barty had to stifle a laugh at today's choice, some 'murder mystery’ that was a lot more romance than their usual mystery or horror selection.

The one young boy who spends all his weekly allowance on the newest Batman and Spiderman comic.

Even the young woman with the service dog. Barty always has good conversations with her, even though he can never remember her name, and isn’t too keen on asking for the fourth time.

The entire day, Barty was waiting for the ball to drop. Waiting for a call from his boss telling him a shipment got delayed or that he’ll have to cover for Avery again because somehow he’s always sick the day there’s a concert playing in the city over. Figure that one out.

But none of that happened.

It was half an hour to closing when Barty heard the doorbell chime, signalling someone had just entered the store. 

Now, he doesn’t have the best view of the door from where the counter sits—his manager trying to get more stock shoved on the shelves rather than worrying about the safety of the store—so he doesn’t really see the customers until they ask a question or come to check out some items.

That’s how he found himself leaning over his counter, trying to figure out the new scheduling system on their computer. He'd been putting it off all day and just needs to get it done before the store falls into more chaos than it already is. But he just can’t even get past the sign-in. His manager left a sheet of employee codes, but every time he would input it, nothing would work.

That’s when the stack of computer science textbooks appeared on the counter in front of him. Ah, the customer was ready to pay. But if they’re taking computer science, would it be rude to ask for help? No, right?

Ugh. Whatever. Without even looking up, Barty talks to the customer. “Hey man, I’m gonna guess you have some sort of experience with computers or whatever... Um, this—” he turns the monitor and points to the screen. “—is not letting me sign in, like at all. And I kinda need my schedule.” The customer laughs a little and that causes Barty’s head to shoot up. Holy—

Fuck! Why did he have to be hot? Barty awkwardly smiles at the man; he thought he would look like just another college nerd, not a literal Greek god.

He quickly surveys the issue. “Are you forgetting your password?”

“Nope. I have it right here,” Barty smiles, very nervous and flustered about the situation.

“Hmm.” The customer places his head in his hand, surveying the screen before looking down to the keyboard. “Ah.” He reaches forward and clicks a single key. Caps Lock. Could this day get any more embarrassing?

“Thank you,” Barty sighs. Then turns the monitor towards himself again and enters the password, the little ding coming from the speaker, and the application finally loads. He looks over to the books on the counter before looking up at the man’s face again. “I wish I could give you one of those for free, but my boss didn’t really like it when I did that last time.”

“I’ll just take your number instead then,” he says casually.

Barty’s ears go red. Oh my god, did he just ask for my number? Ohmygodohmygod. “Uh–I. Sure.” Barty grabs out a new roll of receipt paper, the closest thing to scrap paper that he has right now, and rips off a piece, quickly scribbling out his number, praying he remembers all ten digits correctly.

He hands the paper off and smiles at him, waiting for the customer to say something and then leave. Except they just stand there in silence. Staring at each other.

That is, of course, until the ball drops. 

“...you gonna ring me up?” 

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 9

WC: 1431, Masterpost CW: blood, cannon typical violence, off screen civilian and first responder deaths, mentions of death

Danny and his Flash were both very busy people, there was no denying that. The good thing was that the worst of their busyness were the same events. Sure, they both had obligations outside of that. Danny had all of the other work with the outreach and now overseeing and even training other team members. Flash… well, Flash had whatever he did with the rest of his life. Danny assumed he worked, even if it was for the Justice League.

It was a little odd not knowing Flash past the mask. Danny understood, of course he did. A secret identity was important and, despite having been on several dates now, they still were getting to know each other. It wasn’t as if Danny didn’t know anything about his Flash. He knew Flash always comforted the kids first, was fiercely loyal, and couldn’t resist petting a dog. He knew Flash loved trying new foods, played video games with friends that Flash wished he saw more, and really did enjoy spoiling him. He knew a lot.

He just didn’t know Flash’s name or what family Flash had or if those freckles ran all the way across Flash’s nose.

Danny would be patient though, because he understood. It helped that he at least had Flash’s number. He didn’t know if it was a burner phone or an app or routed through a number of proxies; he hadn’t asked. The first thing Danny had done, in fact, was to send a Flash meme. It had gotten him shoved, but that had turned into a make out session on the couch, so Danny certainly wasn’t complaining.

And if Danny now kept a collection of gifs, memes, and other silly Flash things on hand to send? Well, who could blame him.

He rolled over to grab his phone from the coffee table and sent off another picture of a cat dressed up in Flash’s outfit. The amount of people dressing pets up as superheros was honestly shocking. He didn’t expect an answer right then, looking at the time, but he found it was… nice to be able to find things to send to Flash for him to find and respond to later. It made him feel connected to someone in a way that he hadn’t had in years.

Danny recognized, now, that he had been really hurting himself trying to stay so separate from everyone. One way or another, this is how things would be for the rest of his life. He couldn’t keep morning what had happened, what he had lost. Besides, he was just a civilian now, he wasn’t a danger to his friends and family anymore. So, along with Flash, Danny had started actually accepting the occasional invitation from some of his coworkers. He had even found a game store to go to and play at on the weekends.

It was harder than he thought, putting himself out there again, but his life was brighter for being around people outside of work every week or so. He had Flash to thank for that.

He also had Flash to thank for getting him addicted to the Percy Jackson books. He could personally do with less lightning, but the story had a real way of resonating with the halfa. Danny was three books in at this point and needed to know how it all finished up.

A few chapters further in a notification interrupted him.

Quick Boy: It’s not fair that a cat wears my uniform better than me!!

Danny laughed and tapped the message.

Danny: The cat is pretty cute. But I still think you wear it best. You have a better butt. 😏

The little dots wiggled as Flash typed. It was endlessly amusing to Danny that despite being, literally, super fast, Flash was slowed down by the physics of the world around him, like how fast a phone could accept input.

Quick Boy: 😳🫣🥵 Danny! Have you been checking out my butt?

Despite himself, Danny felt a blush heating up his cheeks. They hadn’t gotten any further than kissing, it didn’t feel right to go further when Danny didn’t know who Flash was, but that didn't mean Danny couldn't tease.

Danny: You run around in spandex, I can’t NOT check out your butt. Have to say, it’s a pretty good one. 10/10, would ogle again.

Quick Boy: How do you feel about ogling it in my most flattering sweatpants? Got a hold of that Japanese giant bug movie you were ranting about. I can grab food and be over to your place in about an hour?

Danny: Stop calling it that!!!You know the title! 😤

Quick Boy: I’m not typing out that title.

Danny grinned as he rolled off of the couch. If Flash was coming over, he should at least pick up a little. Danny knew Flash didn’t really care, but the pile of laundry that Danny had been avoiding folding was a bit much.

Danny: Thought you were supposed to be fast.

Quick Boy: 😒

Danny: Come on, quick boy, take the nanosecond and type it.

Quick Boy: I hate you.

Danny: No you don't~

(Danny sung along as he typed.)

Quick Boy: “Help I’ve Been Made a Holy Knight in a World of Giant Bugs and Need to Save the Prince”

Danny: Knew you could do it! Proud of you. 😘 See you in an hour! Bring Thai and ice cream!

Danny was just putting away the folded stack of laundry when an alarm on his phone screamed at him.

It was work.

Emergency alert.

All hands on deck.

Danny dashed for his door, shoving his feet in his work boots and grabbing the backup vest he kept at home. Someone would drive the trucks full of kits there, but Danny still took his little kit with him, just in case he ran into any wounded on the way.

So much for dinner and cuddling his boyfriend.

As soon as he stepped out onto the street, Danny could hear the sound of sirens and the acrid smell of smoke stung his eyes. Danny’s heart sank.

Whatever this was, it was big.

-

“Danny.”

Danny flexed his hands. Flakes of dried blood broke off and scattered in the wind.

“Danny, babe.”

He would need more gloves for his kit. Was he out? He had to be out. He changed gloves so many times. There were so many people. He had to be out of gloves. He would need more for his kit.

Other hands entered his vision, covered in bright red. Not blood red, bright red. Blood red was mostly darker than people thought. Bright blood was worse. He watched as the hands gently rolled down the gloves.

He needed more gloves.

“Not for today, babe. You’re done for today.”

He needed more gloves, there were so many people.

“Everyone is accounted for. You and the others got everyone.”

Not everyone.

How many people died under his hands today?

Were already dead when he found them?

Wouldn’t last the night?

How many people did he fail?

Too many.

“Danny.” The voice was worried now. “Come on babe, look at me, please?”

Blood had gotten under his gloves, staining his wrists.

“Babe, please.”

Warm, fabric covered hands rested on Danny’s cheeks, tilting his gaze up and away from his hands.

Oh. “Flash?”

“Hey there, babe, you with me?”

Why did he look so worried?

“Because you’re scaring me a little. I think you’re in shock.”

Oh.

“Do you have a shock blanket in your kit still?”

“No… used them all. Had to cover…”

How many people did he fail?

“Okay, that’s okay. I’m going to take you home, okay babe? Well, not my home, but where I used to live— right, that doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go and I’ll keep you safe.”

Danny motioned to a cluster of officials. “I have to—”

“I’ve already checked you out.”

“My team?”

Flash glanced down and away.

“Flash, my team?”

“They’re…. all accounted for. Larson…. He got caught in part of the building coming down. He didn’t make it. Patel was paired with him. She’s at the hospital, they think she’ll pull through.”

Danny tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to scream, to rage, to wail— it all caught up in his throat because he couldn’t. He let out a soundless sob.

Flash pulled Danny into his arms, holding him close. “I know. I know. I’m taking you home. You’ll be okay Danny. It will be okay.”

The colors of the world blurred together as Flash ran, but Danny hardly noticed.

-----

AN: So this has been 95% written since before I got sick, but just now was the first time I could get my brain to deal with it. A darker part of the story, I know, but it felt needed. Danny's doing a very, very hard job and one made all the worse because Danny used to be able to do more and now he can't. (Though I have no doubt he pushed use of his powers further than was really safe in this.)

Stay safe and delightful, my darlings!

I no longer tag people for several reasons, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead to be notified! (May notify this part slightly later, I am queuing it.)

[aristia-pjoheadcanons]

Hi! I wanted to ask for Percy x daughter of Apollo headcanons? Like best friends to lovers or wtv you feel like! Thank you but no worries if not 💕💕

☆Percy Jackson x Daughter of Apollo☆

Authors note: This is so sweet, i love best friends to lovers. (also, not me literally searching up what wtv means only to find out it means whatever and its not a trope lol)

you're his agapitós, just so you know. maybe he will come up with a nice nickanme and a private nickname for the two of you in private.

The child of Apollo has a bit of a love/hate relationship with their godly parent. On one hand, they admire Apollo's power and grace, but on the other hand, they feel like they can never live up to him.

They often struggle to decide if they should be proud of being his child, or if they should resent him for his high expectations.

Despite this inner turmoil, they do strive to live up to Apollo's ideals and make him proud.

Their relationship with Percy is a bit tense at times, you might often feel that Percy is too overprotective and doesn't let you take risks.

Despite this friction, you both genuinely care about each other deeply.

your bond with him is strong, you are dating a guy who only has eyes for his beloved.

maybe the child of apollo has a friend who is a troublemaker, a trickster and a prankster; which is how you managed to get acquainted with Percy.

Though you might not be a child of the big three or a prodigy like Annabeth, you put on a brave face and take down your foes with your skills, whether its medicine, archery, light - any weapon at all!

perhaps you are a charming person and can convicne a bunch of people to do something, even if you dont have charmspeak.

you are known to be the mediater during fights, someone people can rely on for good input since you arent biased. Which could be useful when dealing with the constant drama of demigod life.

capture the flag is the time for you to shine.

(I had to google this);The child of Apollo has the power to harness the energy of the sun, allowing them to create destructive solar blasts, drain the power of others, or even create an aura of warmth.

So, imagine the reader just harnessing the power of a STAR to make themselves overpowered in battle, landing accurate shots with their bow or even straight up knives, becoming faster and agile - flexible, moving so fast it looks natural.

heck, this type of fighting style is for sure gonna make percy stare and admire you.

I IMAGINE that you have a warm body because of the godly power that runs throuhg you, so if you were to hold percys hand (i imagine that hes kind of cold) youre a perfect pair.

demigod life is crazy and percy keeps getting dragged on quests, what if you join him and break the "3-people maximum in a party" rule? he would not care, he wants you near him because he trusts you and your abilities.

healing properties would also be nice but dont get too stressed, percy would never out you on the spot to make you uncomfortable.

percy is a feeler, he understands people because no one took the time to understand him, other than people really close to him. if you even furrow your brow in the slightest, this guy will try to think of anything that happened that day to make you upset or annoyed, and try to think of a solution. his solution is to engage in an awkward convo and give a compliment/pat on the back, but hes so goddamn awkward its funny but you cant laugh because you kind of want percy to keep doing right?

so you start doing the same, sit next to him when hes sitting alone, make your way toward him when he's literally just standing there completely comfortable with being alone;

but no, you want him to know you're there. give him a small smile and he would see you as somebody he can tlak to about his feelings! heck!!

during the pjo-series he never really lets himself feel too much, and instead undermines his feelings to the point he starts to ignore his on needs.

luckily, you are his anchor too. keep him on his toes but not in the way annabeth or the way his mother does; but in another way that can be even seen as intimite, if thats the right word for it.

caressing his back and wiping away his tears but letting him know that "hey, im not wiping them away because I want you to stop, but i'm wiping them away to let you know you're safe and not alone".

by the way, that last line?, would definetly make percy stop and stare at you like a deer in headlights and just try to process this whole entire situation. i dont know why but its funny for me to imagine him being angry or sad and just suddenly stopping, his eyebrows shoot up and he's staring at you as if he cant believe somebody does actually care about what he feels.

percy is a feeler who wont let himself feel, but you are there to remind him that in order for him to even confront his enemies, his foes - he needs to make an ally of himself first.

"dont make yourself your own enemy"

"*again percy is at a loss for words*"

beautiful and powerful, courages but not too aggressive, sentimental and empathetic, are words to describe the reader (definetly not percys own internal thoughts about you cough cough).

you stand out on your own, not because of who your godly parent is, but because of who you are. thats powerful and enough in itself. you dont need to be someone important to the prophecy or the war, you dont need to be someone great. you hold value in your worth for being you.

I feel like at some point you want percy to get out off his head for one second and look at himself the way you look at him.

it's up to you to determine what kind of person you want to be and what you want to make of your own life. and not because of some great prophecy.

Percy has always tried to do the best he can to live up to his destiny, but his own sense of self-worth and identity doesn't rely on those outside factors. percy values freedom and choice, which is why in the end he chose you because you make an impact on his life and his place in the world.

percy really isnt that difficult to get along with. if we tke a look at kane chronicles, he got to know the main character and was somewhat comfortable with him after fighting alongside him for literally 30-40minutes. the problem is that he never really opens up, maybe a result of his uppringing and unresolves trauma - you need to remind him that: control is not the same as suppression.

you would turn his world upside down for the better and his way thinking.

if its difficult through words, you write it down and make an essay about how great he is and how much more he can do with just being himself. he would read this in his room and on the ride home from long-island over and over again, at first he would be shocked - then flattered, happy and somewhat flustered.

he finds this compassionate side of you cute, that you are never really aggressive but are when it comes to letting him know that he is worth it and worth so much more.

he finds this side of you endearing, you speaking up (maybe not always but when the time is right) you stand tall with your chest full of words and you speak.

percys world would transform because of you. he cant be attracted to your light. it might seem like a normal light but it sparks full of life until it completely takes over before he can even understand whats going on.

His perspective and outlook on life would be completely altered by your compassionate and uplifting words.

He would be entranced by your light, drawn in by its brightness and energy, until it finally consumes him completely.

It's a powerful and transformative process that he might not even be able to comprehend or resist.

With you by his side, he would be transformed into something greater than he ever believed possible.

percy would in the end find his voice to speak up about his troubles, isntead of cracking a joke or making it seem like a joke.

or like the scene in HOO with Jason - just moving and and changing the subject when he sees that nobody said anythingn to comfort him (this scene makes me a tad-bit sad, he said it himself that he wasn't ok but bc they were exchausted nobody said anything so he just pretended he didnt say anything in the first place). but dont you think this is evidence that he does try to get better with speaking up, but he just needs someone to reach their hand out.

the two of you have a unique and intense connection to one another. percys sense of duty combined with your passionate nature, makes both an intriguing and powerful couple.

percy would be attached to you; your energy and he would feel inspired and motivated for bringing out a new side of himself.

at some point, percy stops looking shocked when you scold him for not caring about his feelings and while you go on a rant about how he's so important, he instead has a small smile on his face while hes looking up at you through his bangs.

reader: goes on a rant about percys emotions and how great he really is, not bc of his father but because of the way he truly and deeply cares for people and is even willing to look past past-mistakes

*literally batting his eyelashes because butterflies keep dancing in his stomach but he cant stop staring at you*

annabeth would exchange a knowing-look and smile when you make eye contact with her during one of your speeches, and you feel shy because you're realize that people are staring and PERCY IS STARING WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING so he quickly finish the speech and walk fast out of there.

percy strives to be the best partner he can be.

As Percy begins to gain more confidence and express himself in a more authentic way, he would be more honest and upfront about his feelings, including his feelings for the child of Apollo.

When given the moment to confess, he would seize the opportunity and kiss the child of Apollo with a slightly sheepish smile, perhaps even a tad embarrassed about putting himself out there so directly. However, he would also be proud of his newfound confidence and would look forward to growing and developing this relationship with you....

the type of guy to be entranced by you when you speak for multiple reasons; hes inlove and loves you, he loves the way you speak, he cant stop staring at you face light up when you talk about something you consider worth of value, he cant stop staring at your lips.

i feel like every time you lick your lips during a convo with him or in a group setting, his eyes automatically flicker downwards to stare at them for a good second.

he whips his head around when he hear your voice and turns his body to the direction you are, even when someone is trying to talk to him.

blushing around your affections. this guy would get giddy at night thinking about the fact that you just took a leaf out of his hair or straightened up his shirt.

when you are around his home turf he wants to grab your attention by any means. his favourite thing is if he's able to grab your attention when you're talkign to someone, and makes you stop mid-sentence because of whatever he's doing.

he would strut over to you and you think hes just gonna talk to you like normal but he surges ofrward and give you a peck, and he watches your reaction as when he pulls away. his insecurities are still there but hes getting better.

he likes it especially, another favourite of his, is if he makes you flustered. whether you try to ignore him or you start breathing faster (which he can tell btw) or if you have a certain habit of touching something or somewhere on your body, he likes to pay attention and be attentive to the little things about you. he needs to know everything.

okay, his ALL TIME FAVOURITE, is if you try to suppress that beautiful smile. your mouth twitches, the corners of your eyes crinkle just a tiny bit, you lick you lips and try to pretend that you're cool - but then you let your guard down and let yourself smile.

he absolutely loves it when you look at him after that. your gaze is different from usual. of course, you always look at him in a way that only lovers do, but this look in your eyes is for him and him only. that special look of love and devotion in your eyes is his.

he loves every moment of vulnerability and weakness between the two of you, he likes to savour every moment with you...

[cantwritethetword]

(2024) TickleTober Day 1: Harvest - Going against the Grain

Fic Descript - Bruce agrees to help out on the Kent farm and, after an off-handed comment from Clark, he decides to see how ticklish superman actually is.

~A/N  - Welcome to ticklecrowber2024!!!! (forgive the corny title hehehehehe)

We're starting off this month with a super cute superbat fic requested by an anon. While writing it I'm realising this is gonna be a pre-relationship romantic fic, so hopefully that floats your boat.

Like I mentioned on a post ages ago, I'm not aiming to write full fics for all the prompts this year to hopefully avoid burnout so I'm going into this aiming for a few hundred words - we'll see how that goes.

Hope you like it!

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link 

TickleTober Masterpost

One of the (few) things Bruce hated about being in love with someone was the way it made him do things.

And not in a suggestive or psychological way, literally he felt compelled to gain some sort of relationship 'brownie points' to subtly prove his worth as a potential partner.

Which was how he had ended up here, about to knock on the door of Clark's farm home.

When superman mentioned needing to do some hard labour around the fields up in Kansas, Bruce found himself offering to help before he could even blink. It wasn't until Clark enthusiastically accepted that the batman fully realised what he had gotten himself into.

Mixing their work and personal lives? At Clark's house no less? Doing something that probably was effortless for Clark, but would be a significant physical strain for Bruce? What was he thinking?! He'll look like a fool...

But, as much as his brain loved to insist on how much of a bad idea this was, Bruce had resisted the temptation to cancel.

And so, he now found himself raising his fist and tapping the wooden door-frame.

"Bruce!" Clark grinned, opening the door fully.

The man was dressed so stereotypically farm-y, Bruce thought to himself. Brown leather boots half-covered by a pair of old denim jeans, topped with a plain white tee and - god he looked good in that red flannel...

"-are you... did you want to come in?" Clark chuckled.

Shit, had Clark invited him in already? Was he that distracted by the superhero in front of him that he fully disregarded any input other than the sight- wait it's happening again-

"Yes!" Bruce blurted out, interrupting his own thoughts. "Sorry, yes. Thanks."

Ugh love made him a mess.

As Clark narrated and explained his way through his humble abode, Bruce couldn't help but get stuck in his own head - again. He barely registered that they had left the house and were now walking through the wheat fields. He knew Clark was giving some really important information as to what exactly they needed to do and where they would need to do it, but it was almost as if his brain was more focused on the sound of Clark's voice than what it was actually saying.

Until Clark giggled.

Like a gunshot, Bruce locked onto the sound with unbridled curiosity. What had caused it? Would it happen again? Whatever it was clearly didn't phase Clark, as he was back to talking about whatever farmyard jargon that was interrupted earlier.

A few more moments passed, and Bruce had never been more focused on Clark's surroundings. What could possibly have made superman laugh like that? And how common of an occurrence was it if Clark didn't even acknowledged it?

Thankfully, it happened again - with Bruce watching the whole thing.

As Clark walked, a few stray spikes of wheat brushed against his bare lower forearms (where he had rolled up the aforementioned flannel). His hand twitched reflexively, and he once again let out a soft giggle at the sensation.

And, once again. Bruce's mouth moved before his brain could catch up.

"What was that?"

Clark half-turned his torso to face Bruce. "Oh, it just tickles."

Bruce flushed at the casualness of Clark's response.

"It's actually one of my favourite parts of walking through here..." Clark continued with a genuine smile. "Something so small being so intense, makes me feel soft.... alive... human..."

Only Clark could make getting tickled by a plant sound so endearing, it was almost enough to make Bruce forget the huge tidbit of Clark lore that had just been revealed to him.

Superman's ticklish??

He didn't have much time to feel the full shock of that information, as Clark was already several paces ahead of him. Bruce half-skipped to catch up, and as he did, something in his mind convinced him to snap off a piece of wheat from beside him.

As they continued their walk towards the edge of the field where they were about to begin work, and Clark continued yapping, Bruce ran his fingers over the wheat piece in his hand. Was he seriously about to try to tickle superman? Would Clark be alright with it? Would he find it weird and repulsive and never speak to Bruce again cause how could he possibly think that was a normal thing to-

stop - Bruce interrupted himself.

no overthinking

Bruce took a breath, slightly sped up his footsteps to bring himself right behind Clark, and ran the wheat stalk along the side of Clark's neck.

Clark folded with a shriek and a giggle, his smile never fading as he gave Bruce a quizzical look.

That smile was all the invitation Batman needed.

With a smirk, Bruce tackled Clark into the wheat next to them and climbed on top of his chest before frantically twiddling the wheat stem against any potentially ticklish bare skin he could find. Clark's neck, ears, collarbones - even the small patch on his tummy that was exposed from his shirt riding up as they fell - nothing was safe.

And Clark's laughter was like birdsong - it was the most free, happy, genuine giggling Bruce had ever heard. So much so, the billionaire opted to snatch another piece of wheat to use in his free hand against Clark's forearms - which were currently doing fuck-all to fight against the tickly attacks (aside from clinging to and breaking some nearby wheat stems, but Bruce theorised that was mostly for Clark to resist fighting back... cute).

After a sufficient tickling, Bruce paused - mentally checking for any signs of annoyance on Clark's face and letting the man calm down for a few moments.

"Why'd you stop?" Clark asked breathily without missing a beat, and now looking slightly disappointed.

Once again caught aback by Clark's openness, Bruce stuttered and floundered for an answer. "I... I was just... I wanted to... make sure... you..."

Clark laughed. "No need to panic, it was just a question."

Bruce chuckled, still a little embarrassed.

"You always worry so much." Superman smiled, poking Bruce's neck with one of the wheat stalks he had snatched during the tickle-attack to emphasise his point.

Bruce squeaked (though he would later insist this wasn't true), his face flushing a deep red.

"Oh?" Clark grinned menacingly, rolling himself and Bruce over to flip their positions with clearly little-to-no effort. "The dark, scary batman is ticklish too?"

oh god

And, after being thoroughly tickled, Bruce spent the entire time they worked on the farm trying to convince himself the look on his own face before Clark tickled him definitely wasn't nervous excitement, and that he definitely wouldn't give anything do it all again.

Definitely not.

[lucozadehulahoop]

Star-crossed. Lo'ak x fem!human!reader

This was originally posted on my side blog @thankeywa. It's a brand new blog and tumblr thinks it's a bot so it's not giving it visibility. Please go give it some love, I want all my avatar!related stuff to be on there.

PART 2 HERE PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE

I know that literally nobody asked for this, but I've noticed a disturbing lack of Lo'ak fics out there, so I've decided to give my input. I've had a story in mind for a while now, and I needed to get it out there. It will be a reader insert to make it more accessible, but it's somewhat based around an original f!character, so I apologize for that in advance if it gets too specific.

WARNINGS: Lo'ak is 20 years old in this and so is the reader, I do not write about minor characters. There will be eventual mature themes in this so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK.

For everyone else, if you like my writing, please let me know if you want to be on the tag list for future installments and SEND ME REQUESTS (head canons, imagines, sfw/nsfw, ecc.) ! I love that shit.

words: around 1.200

summary: reader is a human left behind on pandora, she grew up with the remaining humans who'd been aloud to stay on the planet after the war and has been friends with the Sully clan her entire life. She and Lo'ak were best friends until he began to pull away from her in their teen years for seemingly no reason. This story is about them reconnecting on the day of her twentieth birthday, and dealing with the feelings they have for each other and the obstacles that come with them being from two different worlds.

TW for this chapter: angst, smoking (don't do it, ever), brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of war and death, brief mention of child birth, reader can breathe on pandora.

Y/n looked at the 'birthday cake' made out of cookie rations that Norm and Max had made for her. No matter how many years would pass, her dads always knew how to get creative.

"I'm twenty years old, you guys don't have to keep throwing me a birthday party." She reprimanded them softly, though her heart was filled with joy. Y/n was so thankful to have people in her life who cared enough to make her day special every single year.

"Considering you spent most of your early existence tied to test tubes to stay alive, we're merely celebrating the scientific marvel your continued survival has been." Norm joked, raising a beer, and y/n shoved him, before blowing out the single candle that had been meticulously re-used each year. It was a wonder how there was any wax still left on it.

"What did the birthday girl wish for?" Max asked, reaching for a dried-up cookie and cringing slightly at the taste as he chewed on it slowly. "The whole point of a birthday wish is to keep it to myself... or it won't come true. Honestly, I question your two's knowledge of Earth's traditions." y/n shook her head, before taking a celebratory sip of alcohol.

Norm and Max left eventually, back to the main base. They were more than capable of piloting a helicopter those days, and y/n was all grown up. More than capable of living by herself. What once had been an avatar lab, smack dab in the middle of the forests of Pandora, had been converted into her home. Pandora's rapidly repopulating fauna had surprisingly left her residence alone, well... mostly. There were still some creatures who couldn't help but keep themselves away. And by creatures, she meant Spider. Y/n was also friends with actual people like Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, and... Lo'ak. Truth be told, she didn't know whether or not she and Lo'ak were even friends anymore. They'd been thick as thieves for as long as she could remember, always getting him out of trouble and fixing him up after a scuffle with his siblings. But then, around her sixteenth birthday, he'd started pulling away, and y/n had never understood why. They'd had a big fight about it, bottom line, he hadn't wanted to be around her anymore and y/n had to accept it.

"Open up! It's fucking freezing out here!" Came Spider's loud voice followed by an incessant banging on the door that immediately pulled y/n out of her reverie. "Alright, alright..." she laughed a little as she went to let them all inside. The Sullys were always insisting on spending birthdays together, even though some of them were now getting too big to even fit inside her 'home'. Neteyam had to walk around with his back bent forward, and Kiri knocked over quite a few things before they made it to y/n's main living space, which was more or less Na've-proof. "Happy birthday!" Tuk hugged her and y/n struggled not to feel crushed by the embrace. Even the littlest Sully was now nearly as tall as her.

Y/n let them all inside, already giving them dirty looks at the sight of gifts. "I told you guys not to..."

She stayed on the doorstep a little longer, gazing out into the night, desperately hoping one last uninvited guest would turn up. She felt Neteyam's hand on her shoulder. "He's not coming. I tried to talk to him but he was being a skxawng as usual..." Y/n blushed, not really wanting Neteyam to know she was pining for his younger brother. "Oh, right! I was—just checking you were all here..." she closed the door and they both went back to join the others.

___

"Alright come on, your mom is going to kill me if you get back late and I don't have enough space in here for all of you. Spider would have to sleep outside." Y/n teased, trying to let Tuk understand it was time to go. "Hey!" Spider protested at her lighthearted jab, but knew it was time for them to get going. Nobody wanted to get on Neytiri's bad side. Y/n hugged them all goodbye and thanked them for the presents: Tuk had made her a lovely drawing, and the others had collectively made her a rather beautiful necklace, which she immediately wore. Y/n waited on her doorstep till she could no longer hear the sounds of her friends chatting, and then proceeded to do two incredibly dangerous things: she sat outside of the protection of her bunker, all alone in the cold Pandora night air, and lit up a cigarette.

She'd discovered a terrifyingly endless supply of cigarette cartoons back at the base almost a year prior, and as soon as she'd tried her first one, she'd gotten addicted. Y/n hadn't told Norm or Max, of course, as it would have broken their hearts, especially because of how fragile she was. Y/n's mother had gone into labor in the aftermath of the battle for Pandora between the Na'vi and the Sky people. The soldier had lost her life giving birth, but her baby had survived, taking her first breath in the inhospitable Pandora air. Norm was convinced Eywa herself had kept her alive, had given her the ability to take in the air that hadn't previously failed to kill any other human. Sure, it had come at the price of being particularly fragile her entire life. And how was y/n repaying that gift? By cutting her miraculous existence short more and more each day. Thankfully, it was a while since she'd been used as a test rat, or had check ups of any sort. As far as the Sullys were concerned... they were way better off not even knowing what she was doing to herself.

A sudden rustling in the trees instantly made y/n alert and she didn't waste any time getting back inside. She showered, and shamefully hid her smokes somewhere her dads or the Sullys wouldn't look. When she had nothing else left to do, y/n forced herself to crawl into bed, placing a hand over her necklace. Her wish to see Lo'ak hadn't come true in the end, and while not surprising, it still hurt like hell.

"A pack of viperwolves? Seriously, Lo'ak?" Y/n groaned in frustration as she cleared her table for her best friend to lie on.

"I thought I could take them." He hissed as she doused him with disinfectant. "Yeah, well, you know human medical treatment hurts like a bitch, so it's either my way, or you're going to have to fess up to your parents about what you did." Y/n tried to sound cold, but she'd always been too soft on him.

When they were younger, and Lo'ak still hadn't grown to be double her size, they would often fall asleep together in her bed. "You don't have to keep doing this shit to prove something, you know?" She whispered to him one night, turning over to look at him and gently touch his face. "Your parents love you. And so do Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk and Spider. Lo'ak, I— we— don't want to lose you."

Y/n was almost asleep when a loud 'thud' coming from outside woke her. Something was moving on her roof, or rather, someone... Y/n didn't show whether she was dreaming or not as she looked out the window and locked eyes with Lo'ak, because the second she did, he seemed to slide off the top of her bucker, falling down into the grass below with a loud groan.

He'd probably just woken up half of the animals on Pandora.