#and he is a perfect target for that kinda stuff

[territorial-utopia]

It's mine and @theshiftingworkshop's 6th anniversary! We have some fun plans for later tonight (that includes a dinner and a show-) but also before we go do that I wanted to draw a sweet little thing to celebrate one of the more out there aspects of our relationship ⁽ᴱˢᵖᵉᶜᶦᵃˡˡʸ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʷᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᶦᵐ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᶦⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵗᶦᵐᵉˢ⁾

Anyway time to go be with my lovely partner and giggle about all the SD coded things we come across tonight

[gf2bellamy]

early seasons spence has me in a chokehold so i kinda have a request for you idk if it makes sense but yeah anyway (please dont tell me its obvious im a yapper ill cry)

ANYWHO

secret relationship au im imagining, earlyseasons!spencer x genderneutral/fem!bau!user (doesnt bother me but im trying to be considerate, im a girl but it really doesnt matter)

basically im thinking like the reader gets kidnapped on a case and spence is FREAKING OUT like lack of sleep, pacing constantly and being really set on finding the unsub freaking out.. and when he finally finds the reader in their state hes like that mix of relieved and absolutely appalled at the readers condition (im imagining all beaten and bloody and stuff idk how graphic you wanna make it). hes all ditsy when hes untying their binds and carrying them out of the place since hes so scared for them. the rest of the thing is kinda hotch calmly telling the reader how freaked out spence was and then im thinking like them comforting spencer afterwards and saying all the ‘its not your fault’ and ‘im okay now’ and its so fluffy it rots all our teeth (but i guess it would also be angst) IDK IF IT MAKES ANY SENSE IMSORRY

anyway remember to drink water and take care of yourself

call me some random emoji cause ill probably be here a bunch

- 🐚

captured — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader having bruises, reader being tied up, mention of having a terrible headache, a/n: thank you so so much for your request and your request makes perfect sense don't worry !! i loved the idea and i'm looking forward to your next requests 🐚 <3<3<3 i hope i did your request justice !!!

Spencer didn’t know where you were. No one did. That thought pounded through his skull, looping endlessly as he drank what had to be his fifth coffee of the day. He hadn’t slept and the caffeine barely registered.

The coffee tasted like bitter and lifeless. Not that it mattered. All it was doing was keeping him on his feet long enough to find you.

He should have seen this coming. He should have known the unsub would target you. You fit the profile perfectly. And yet, when it mattered most, Spencer had let his guard down.

And now you were gone. Missing. Maybe worse.

The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through him. His guilt was unbearable.

But it wasn’t just guilt, wasn’t just worry for a teammate. This was about you.

The person he had been secretly slipping away with after hours and the person whose hand he had held under the table when no one was looking.

He should have stopped you. You should have never been the one to go on that stakeout alone, even if it was routine. Even if you’d assured him you’d be fine. The memory of your casual smile as you walked out the door stabbed at him like a knife.

“It’s just for a few hours, Spence,” you’d said with a soft lilt in your voice.

He’d smiled back, pretending to believe you, but his stomach had tightened even then. He should have insisted on going with you.

It was a small mistake, one that was tearing him apart.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been gripping the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. He forced himself to let go, staring blankly at the case file in front of him. It was no use. He’d already memorized every detail, every piece of evidence. Nothing had led them to you yet.

Spencer rubbed his eyes, exhaustion clawing at him. His entire body screamed for rest, but the idea of closing his eyes, even for a moment, felt impossible.

Everyone on the team was worried about you, how could they not be? But they were also worried about Spencer. And they had every reason to be.

They thought his reaction was because the two of you were close, because he was the type to carry the weight of every case like a personal failure. But it was clearly more than that.

Spencer stared at the evidence board in front of him, the faces of the victims haunting him as he tried to force his brain into profiling mode. But every time he looked at their photos, all he could see was you.

His chest tightened painfully, and he dug his fingers into the desk again.He needed to focus.

“Reid.”Hotch’s voice broke through his frantic thoughts.

Spencer’s head snapped toward the doorway where Hotch stood, his expression unreadable as always. “We’ve got a lead,” he said, stepping inside. “Where?” Spencer asked.

“An abandoned warehouse on 14th and Grant,” Hotch replied evenly, though the concern in his eyes was clear.

Spencer turned back to the board, his mind racing as he analyzed the new information. Within seconds, he made the connection. The location fit the unsub’s pattern, his profile. It was possible.

Spencer shot to his feet without another word, practically bolting out the door. The rest of the team exchanged quick glances before following him.

He didn’t care if he looked reckless. He didn’t care if they saw how desperate he was. He had wasted enough time already.

Derek barely had time to react before Spencer climbed into the passenger seat, his breathing uneven.

Derek glanced at him, concern flickering across his face as he started the engine. “Reid—”

“Just drive,” Spencer snapped. Derek didn’t argue. He knew better.

The SUV tore through the streets, Derek driving faster than protocol allowed. But he didn’t care. He knew Spencer would bite his head off if he slowed down, and frankly, he couldn’t blame him.

Spencer’s knee bounced restlessly as his eyes darted to the GPS screen, counting down the seconds until they arrived.

The second the car came to a stop in front of the warehouse, Spencer threw open the door and bolted.

“Reid, wait!” Derek’s voice rang out behind him, but it was no use.

Spencer didn’t slow down. His pulse roared in his ears as he burst into the building, gun raised, breath ragged. His rational mind screamed at him to slow down, to wait for backup, to clear the scene carefully.

The air smelled of rust , maybe even blood. His stomach turned at the thought.

His grip on his gun tightened as he moved swiftly, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Room after room, door after door. Empty.

Panic coiled in his chest, squeezing tighter with each dead end. His mind flashed with worst-case scenarios. He shoved them down. He couldn’t think like that.

Then, he reached the last door.

Spencer barely took a breath before forcing it open, gun at the ready.His stomach dropped.There you were.

His voice cracked as he called out your name, his heart pounding in his chest. He rushed toward you, his gun immediately lowering as he took in your state.

His stomach twisted at the sight of you, unconscious, slumped forward, your wrists bound to the arms of the chair. He could see the bruises and cuts on your face. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, Spencer feared the worst.

He knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they moved to your neck. His fingers pressed gently against your pulse point, but for what felt like an eternity, there was nothing.

But then , there it was. A faint beat beneath his fingertips.

Relief crashed over him, and for the first time in what felt like hours, Spencer’s lungs finally let him take a full breath. He leaned forward, forehead nearly touching yours as he whispered shakily, “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

His hands moved to your face, cupping it gently as he tilted your head up to get a better look at you.

When your face came into full view, his breath hitched.

Bruises marred your cheekbone and temple, a thin line of dried blood trailing down from your hairline. Spencer’s heart clenched so tightly he thought it might break. He bit his lip, trying to keep it together, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

One single tear slipped down his cheek as he softly brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Morgan!” Spencer’s voice cracked as he yelled.

Seconds later, Derek burst into the room, gun in hand, his face hard and alert. “Reid, I just cleared the—” But the moment his eyes landed on you, his words died in his throat.

Derek cursed under his breath, his gaze shifting between you and Spencer, before asking about your condition, his concern obvious as he rushed to Spencer’s side, holstering his gun.

“Alive,” Spencer barely managed to choke out the word, his voice trembling. “Pulse is steady, but we need to get out of here.”

Morgan nodded, his jaw tightening as he quickly pulled out his knife to cut through the ropes binding your wrists.

Spencer’s hands were already on you, one cradling the back of your head, the other resting gently on your arm. His thumb stroked soothing circles on your skin.

The motion was familiar, a small gesture he used to comfort you when you were restless after nightmares. He hoped it would work now, that somehow, it would bring you back to him.

Morgan worked quickly, slicing through the restraints. As soon as your wrists were free, Spencer carefully pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him.

His breath hitched as he whispered your name, lips near your ear. “It’s me. You’re safe now. You're okay.”

Derek’s voice broke through his daze, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Let’s move.”

Spencer nodded. As he moved, one arm tightening protectively around you. As they made their way outside, the sunlight hit Spencer’s face, but he barely noticed.

All he could focus on was you, the bruises and cuts that were on your skin, the way your body felt too light in his arms. His heart clenched at the thought of how much pain you must have endured, how much suffering had been put upon you, all because of the job.

He had promised you that he would protect you, that he would keep you safe. And now, he felt like he had failed you.

Two hours later, after one heated argument with the paramedics, Spencer had insisted on riding in the ambulance with you. He had refused to let you be alone, not for a second.

Now, you were lying in a sterile hospital bed, an IV drip hooked up to you. You were alive and recovering.

Spencer was slumped in an uncomfortable plastic chair. His body contorted in a way that he knew he would regret later, but he didn’t care. His legs were stretched out, but his back was hunched, his neck bent at an awkward angle.

You slowly opened your eyes, blinking as the bright overhead lights made everything blur.

The pain hit you almost immediately, making its way through your head and down your body. You winced, biting your lip to hold back the whimper that threatened to escape.

The pain was intense, but it was nothing compared to everything that had happened.

The fear, the physical pain, the overwhelming sense of helplessness, it all crashed down on you.

But you slowly became aware that you were no longer in that dark, cold room, bound and at the mercy of the unsub. You were safe now.

And with that realization came relief. You weren’t dead. You hadn’t been forgotten or abandoned. The unsub hadn’t fulfilled his plan.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you could stop them, they began to fall. You lifted your hand to your face, wiping them away quickly, but more kept coming. You couldn’t stop them.

Your eyes scanned the room, and that’s when you saw him.

Spencer.

He was there, slumped in the chair beside your bed. His exhaustion was unmistakable. His hair was messier than usual, not gelled back.

You sat there quietly observing the boy you had come to love so much.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and you turned your head to see Hotch step in. His expression softened when his eyes met yours, and you could see the relief in his gaze.

“Hi, Hotch,” you mumbled weakly, offering a small, tired smile.

Hotch stepped further into the room, taking in your condition. "How are you doing?" His voice was softer than usual as he slowly closed the door behind him.

"My head is killing me," you replied, your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. Your hand instinctively went to your temple, massaging it gently, but it did little to alleviate the pain.

Hotch nodded understandingly. He glanced at Spencer briefly, noting the way he hadn’t moved a muscle. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew more than he was letting on.

It wouldn’t surprise you; Hotch was perceptive in ways no one else was, and your relationship with Spencer hadn’t exactly been subtle all the time.

He cleared his throat before speaking again. "We got him," Hotch said. "The unsub... he's in custody."

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. The news felt like a balm to your soul.

You’d been terrified that the danger hadn’t truly passed, that the man who had done this to you would still be out there, free to hurt others. But now, you could finally breathe.

He was behind bars, where he belonged.

"Thank you," you whispered, your body finally relaxing a little.

Hotch’s gaze softened, though his face remained stoic as always. “He was worried sick,” Hotch said, nodding toward Spencer. “He didn’t sleep. He was looking for you the entire time.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you shifted your gaze from Hotch back to Spencer.

You could see the toll the search had taken on him. You fought the urge to reach for him, to run your fingers through his hair and wake him up just so you could see his face, to remind yourself that he was real, that he was here.

The face that had been your lifeline during the long days of captivity. It was that face, the one you’d thought of in the darkest moments, that had kept you sane.

Hotch seemed to notice the way your gaze lingered on Spencer. And by that, he confirmed your suspicion, that he knew about you and Specer.

Spencer stirred slightly in his sleep, making a soft sound as he shifted. His body tensed before relaxing, the quiet movements of someone who was waking from exhaustion.

Hotch glanced down at Spencer, then back at you.He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, one that was light enough to not cause you any pain, and you looked at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Hotch said quietly. He gave you a small nod before stepping back.“Thanks, Hotch,” you mumbled, your voice filled with genuine gratitude.

The door clicked softly behind him.As if on cue, Spencer slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times.His eyes immediately locked onto yours.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, as if he didn’t quite believe it himself. His eyes searched your face, his expression tightening as he took in every little detail.

"Hi," you mumbled back, trying to offer him a small, weak smile. The effort was exhausting, but you didn’t want him to see just how badly you were hurting.

As you shifted to sit up a bit, the sharp pain in your head and limbs made itself known, and you couldn’t stop the soft groan that slipped from your lips.

Without a second thought, Spencer stood up from his seat, stepping closer to your bed, but he didn’t reach for you immediately.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking slightly.

His breath caught in his throat as his gaze flickered from the fresh marks on your body to your face, and for a split second, it seemed like he couldn’t look at you without some part of him breaking.

"I’ll be fine," you said, your voice strained as you did your best to sound convincing, but the words didn’t do much to reassure him.

You could see it in the way he flinched, his hand immediately running through his hair, trying to distract himself from how visibly shaken he was by the sight of you in pain.

Spencer Reid, who always had an answer for everything, who always had control, was falling apart. He leaned forward slightly, as if wanting to touch you but unsure if he should.

“Spence,” you whispered, your voice quiet. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

But Spencer’s gaze remained on you, his body tense, and his hands flexed, still not knowing where to go. His lips parted again, as though to say something, but it came out only as a soft breath.

His fingers hovered near your arm but didn’t touch.

It was like he was afraid of hurting you more. You could see the guilt gnawing at him. It was written all over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice barely audible. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve—" His words faltered, and he cut himself off.

"Spence," you said slowly, your voice soft. You reached out and grabbed his hand, your fingers curling around his gently.

His grip tightened around your hand, but it felt shaky. The words suddenly spilled out.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve known. I should’ve known you could be in danger and I—” His voice cracked, and the rest of the sentence died in his throat. His breath hitched, and it was clear he was trying to hold back tears.

But they came anyway, pooling in his eyes, spilling over and leaving tracks down his pale face.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him. This was the man who had stayed by your side, refused to leave even when his mind told him he couldn’t handle it anymore. The man who, despite everything, was still so gentle with you, so protective, and yet, here he was, blaming himself for things beyond his control.

"Spencer, stop," you said softly, your voice full of concern for him “Please, stop.”

His eyes remained downcast, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I should have known," he repeated, barely loud enough for you to catch.

His voice trembled, breaking on the words. "I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve made sure you were safe. You're hurt... you're in the hospital because of me."

Your heart broke all over again.

"No, no," you whispered urgently, doing your best to push through the lingering pain in your head as you squeezed his hand tighter.

"Spence, it wasn’t your fault. Don't ever think that," you said firmly, your voice filled with all the care and strength you had left.

"Listen to me," you continued, the words coming from the depths of your soul. "You did everything you could. You were there. You found me. You're the reason I'm alive, Spencer. If anyone should be sorry, it’s the man who did this to me, not you." Your words were soft.

Spencer’s breath hitched again, his face contorting.

You took a slow, steady breath, forcing yourself to speak through the exhaustion. "You’re not the reason I’m here, Spence," you said, your voice full of the truth you wished he could feel deep inside himself. "You’re the reason I’m going to be okay. You always are."

Your words seemed to reach him, just enough to keep him from falling apart completely.

"Promise me something," you said, your voice soft but unwavering. "Promise me you’ll stop blaming yourself. It’s not on you. It never was."

He nodded slowly, his hand tightening around yours in return.

“I promise,” he whispered, though it felt like he was still trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

"Come here," you said softly.

Without a second thought, Spencer leaned forward, his body folding into yours as he gently buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms sliding around you.

He tried his best not to press too hard, too recklessly, worried about hurting you. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

When he finally pulled back, there was a small smile on his face that wasn’t there before.

You smiled gently, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face, your fingers lingering on his skin.

"I’m okay," you whispered, your voice tender, just for him. "I’m really okay, Spence."

He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for just a second longer than usual, before pulling back with a contented sigh. "I’m so glad you’re okay." he murmured.

You squeezed his hand tightly, smiling at him.

He pulled the chair closer to your bed, never letting go of your hand. He was still physically exhausted, emotionally drained, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered was that you were here.

[moonsandloons]

Okay I’m about to write a LOT of tags-

Also sorry if it sounds like I’m arguing, I don’t wanna argue with you cause you’re my friend- we are having a ✨civil debate✨

That laes episode… WOWZA

It’s becoming increasingly clear how much of an effect the astrals’ indoctrination has had on Lunar. He can’t think of any good reason to get his powers back, but he wants to do it anyways. He hates having powers, he hates how stressful it is, he hates the idea of leaving his family behind, but he wants to do it anyways. He feels like he has to, like it’s his purpose. Even if he isn’t happy, he doesn’t ‘deserve’ happiness.

Why does he have to leave his family behind? Genuinely, why? Because he’ll be too ‘busy’ to see them? Because they could ‘interfere’ with his work? No!

The reason why Lunar can’t see his family if he gets his powers back is because he will be fully indoctrinated into the astral cult. People who join cults often cut their families off or rarely interact with them. Cult leaders don’t want their disciples getting too friendly with outsiders, because they may realize that they’re being manipulated. The astrals don’t want Lunar interacting with his family because they’re worried he’ll get too distracted from their main goal.

The astrals aren’t evil. They may not even be purposefully indoctrinating people. I don’t think Gemini’s goal is to manipulate Lunar or isolate him from his family. Their goal is to protect the universe from dark star power. But that doesn’t change the fact that they have had an extreme negative effect not just on Lunar, but his family as well.

They’ve made him fear for his life, his livelihood. It feels like everything he has could be lost in an instant.

Without his powers, he feels useless. He dedicated himself to the astrals, training himself every day just to become one of them. The idea of losing his powers is so stressful to him that he’d consider leaving his family behind just to pursue becoming an astral.

He asks “Why do I have to make this choice?” And it’s a good question!

Why was he EVER put into this position? The astrals could’ve taken his powers from him at any time. Why didn’t they? Why did Gemini say he was at risk of DEATH after he killed Eclipse? Why didn’t they put him through this torment, why did they threaten him like that? Because they want him to stay loyal to their cause.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey author! how do you think the batboys would act if they had a best friends to lovers kinda of thing going on? like reader is their bro, their other half and then out of nowhere the batboys are like omg i love my best friend <3

Dick often made jokes in the past that it was only time before you two become the plot of a really bad romcom, two friends who pretty much did everything together, it was almost as if fate itself was trying to tell you something. A cliche friends to lovers trope just waiting to happen.

Now he couldn’t help but recognise the irony now as he holds his head in his hands, curse him and his loud fucking mouth for it always found its way to bite him in the ass sooner or later.

Dick didn’t mind falling in love, but to fall in love with your best friend after teasing about it happening for such a long time felt like karma for his teasing behaviour. He’s stuck trying to think of anything that didn’t remind him of you but unfortunately for Dick everything reminded him of you no matter where he looked, even his apartment was covered in things that you’ve left behind with no intention of taking back.

This has proven to be the perfect example of how much you’ve been overtaking his mind, slowly but surely before becoming all he could think of in his waking hours and his sleeping hours. It was driving him mad with how obvious his feelings must’ve been to the people closest to him.

You were all he knew in these moments and he was forced to be remained of his ever growing emotions with how he always seemed to be touching you in any capacity he could, his arm was often thrown over your shoulders in public or he’s holding you from behind as you stayed over at his place. He thrived off of your warmth and presence that it made going home to his place even more dull without you by his side to parent Hayley together, you’d make a great dog parent for all he was aware.

The signs were there and Dick was made to realise that he was the one who had fallen first out of the two of you, even though he wished it was you, and now all he could think was how he’d much rather have you live with him since you loved to leave your stuff at his place for convenience when you did spend the night. Hell you even cuddled together like a couple with you burying your head under his chin while he caged you against his chest with his arms as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Dick knew he’d have to make a move sooner or later before someone else swoops you up right in front of him.

Damian was having his own integral crisis once he realised that he wasn’t in fact ill and was infect feeling romantic feelings towards you.

He’s against it and heavily so that he would find himself putting distance between the two of you because of it as it wasn’t something he was ready to face.

It’s very much an ‘oh shit, oh god why?!’ Type of reaction and suddenly his walls are back up. Damian knows how dangerous it would be if you were either him, as if being friends with him already didn’t put a target on your back. Not only that but he was secretly scared of what these emotions could spell out for his future.

Would he be distracted in patrols and missions to come because his mind was fixated on you and your wellbeing?

Would he become sloppy in his fighting or would he become even more ruthless at the idea of something terrible happening to you under his watch?

Damian didn’t know and he wasn’t one to ask for help either so he would often retreat to his room and put his head in his hands and sigh. Emotions were more trouble than what they were worth and it often caused him frequent headaches in the process. Damian didn’t know what to do and so he could only hope that if he spend less time with you then the feelings would go away.

However owever this plan ultimately backfires on him as he finds himself missing your presence more then he’d ever admit at gunpoint, he’d even find himself drawing you how he saw you and he’s back to holding his head in his hands and groaning at how much of a bother these emotions were going to be.

He loves you but wasn’t willing to risk your safety by taking your friendship to the next level, but even if he ever did he’ll most likely have to teach you basic hand to hand combat to satiate his concern while he’s away from you. But until then he’d rather let the emotions die in his chest, no matter how much they burn him from the inside for he’s dealt with worse.

Jason would come to this realisation that he was in love with you when he found himself becoming more protective over you than normal. And I mean more than normal.

He’d be on patrol and the first person he looks out for is you, especially if your on an late shift at work, as he doesn’t trust Gotham in the slightest at night for that was when the city was at its upmost worst. He’s watching over you like a guardian angel, a rather violent guardian angel but only towards those who deserve such lethal and or permanent punishment from his gun.

He wants you to be safe on your journey home that sometimes after beating up some goons, he’s walking you home as red hood for extra protection before bidding you a goodnight. He doesn’t care how often he has to do it because he’ll gladly walk you home no matter what, your safety was Jason’s top priority and he knew he’d hate himself more then he already did should anything happen to you when he wasn’t nearby.

He knew he had fallen for you when he became softer and more affectionate towards you, whether that be holding you by the waist as he moved to grab a cup in the morning, kissing your temple as good morning greeting, holding your hand when he feels the need to distract himself by fiddling and intertwining your fingers together.

He even remember falling more for you when you reciprocated the touches with some of your own that lead to him falling into your arms, finding his much needed solace there as he realises just how much he wanted this to be a reality you both share together, a reality where you’d lie in bed tougher and wake the other up with kisses and sweet whispers of love and adoration you had for one another.

His apartment that felt cold and dead was more alight and filled with life when you came in through the door, decorating it with trinkets and other gifts that you bestowed upon him, but what made his apparent more alive and warm to Jason and that was you with your presence and Jason didn’t know how he’d manage to live his entire life without you being his rock and his reason for everything.

So needless to say that Jason felt as though that if he’d loose you he would be a man without a cause, a man without an anchor who could aways bring him back form the brink, he knew damn well that how he treated himself now would be nothing in comparison to how he would treat himself if you left his life.

Jason needed you like he needed air to breathe, how he was going to confess he wasn’t certain but he had a thing or two in mind.

[padmesweetheart]

La Roach What Now?

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Young Wife!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Domestic Life

Word Count: ~2,900

Summary: You surprise Hayden with his own skincare stash after weeks of him stealing yours. But when he tries to get serious about it, things go hilariously sideways.

You’d been patient.

Patient while your serums slowly vanished.

Patient when your moisturizer mysteriously developed a large dent—despite only being used by someone who insisted, “Nah, my face is fine.”

Patient when your fancy vitamin C drops kept ending up on the bathroom counter, uncapped, and next to his toothbrush.

But the final straw?

You walked in one morning to see Hayden—shirtless, tousled, looking unfairly good for 7:04 a.m.—standing in front of the mirror slathering your eye cream across his entire forehead.

You stood in the doorway, blinking.

“That’s not what that’s for,” you said, voice flat.

He looked over, all casual. “I thought this was the good stuff.”

“It is,” you said slowly, “because it’s targeted. For undereyes. Tiny amounts. That bottle cost more than your boots.”

He winced. “…Oh.”

You sighed. “Get out of my cabinet, Skywalker.”

—————

The next day, you came home with a surprise.

A little woven basket, tucked under your arm. Inside:

• A gentle cleanser

• His own moisturizer (“no scent, just vibes”)

• A broad-spectrum SPF (“yes, even in winter”)

• A lightweight serum for hydration

• And, the crown jewel: a bright blue bottle of La Roche-Posay facial spray

He looked at the basket like it was a foreign artifact.

“Is this… mine?” he asked.

You grinned. “All yours. Now you don’t have to use my twenty-dollar-an-ounce miracle drops like aftershave.”

Hayden snorted. “You’re never letting that go, huh?”

“Nope. Never. Use this instead.” You handed him the moisturizer and tapped the lid. “And only this.”

He picked up the bright blue spray bottle and turned it over in his hands, squinting at the label.

“‘La…’” he began, slow and serious. “‘La Roach… Poo-say?’”

You stared at him. Blinked. “Come again?”

“La Roach… Poo-say,” he repeated, brow furrowed in earnest concentration.

There was a beat of silence.

Then he frowned. “That’s not right.”

he made a face and muttered, “…still I don’t think I want roach pussy on my face”

You lost it.

You howled, doubling over in the middle of the bathroom. “HAYDEN!”

He looked half horrified, half amused. “What kind of skincare are you putting on me?!”

You doubled over. You howled. Tears sprang to your eyes. “Hayden! No! That’s—oh my god—what did you just say?!”

He started laughing too, voice cracking. “I don’t know! It looks like ‘roach!’” He held the bottle up defensively. “It has accents and French things! What do you expect?!”

Tears streamed down your face. “It’s La Roche-Posay! LA. ROCHE. PO-SAY.”

He blinked. “That’s not what it looks like! It’s got the little… hat thing on the ‘e’!”

You were wheezing. “It’s FRENCH, babe! FRENCH! It’s not roach pussy, it’s… hydration mist!”

He held the bottle out at arm’s length like it might actually scuttle away. “I don’t trust it now.”

“Too bad,” you said, snatching it back and spraying a light mist over his face before he could flinch. “It’s your new life now.”

He blinked rapidly. “…That feels kinda nice.”

You smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

——————-

Later that night, you walked into the bathroom to see him standing at the sink, carefully applying his new products in the correct order. Cleanser, then serum, then moisturizer. (He even used a pea-sized amount. Growth.)

You leaned against the doorframe and watched, amused.

When he noticed you, he smiled. “Am I doing this right, or am I about to destroy my pores?”

You walked over, kissed his cheek, and ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re perfect. Even when you’re mispronouncing French skincare like a Canadian lumberjack.”

He gave you a crooked grin. “Hey. I am Canadian.”

“And you’re lucky you’re hot.”

He pulled you closer. “You think ‘La Roach Pussay’ is hot?”

You shoved him gently. “You’re never living that down.”

“Good,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss. “Means you’ll never forget me.”

[xoxovanillq]

WORLDS COLLIDE

i. meeting

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Warnings- Trust issues, Kissing, She/Her pronouns.

Word count- 1.5k

“Dude, have you seen the new girl yet?” Chris questions. Luke and him are sitting in their respective bunks in the Hermes cabin, taking the opportunity of an empty cabin to chat.

“No, not yet. Should I see her?” Luke responds, his tone inquisitive.

“Yeah, I mean, she’s like, exactly your type.” Chris replies, laying back in his bunk, turning his head to face Luke.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see her soon.” He replies, laying back in his bunk with a sigh.

You trudged into the Hermes cabin, exhausted, and ready to go to bed. It had been a long day, being the new kid at your age felt weird, especially with kids running around with more knowledge of this stuff than you. Everyone was somewhat nice, which was relieving, but no one  really caught your eye, well, until that night.

You laid in your bunk, looking up a bit to see a tall boy, dark curls falling into his face as he quietly studied you.

“You new?” He asks, his voice deep and rich, causing your heart to pound a small bit faster. The boy was pretty, tall, a little bit unsure of himself, but it was kinda cute.

“Mhm, was it that obvious?” You reply, your exhaustion convened through your voice.

“No, no! Not at all! Listen, uh, I’m Luke.” He says with a small smile, moving closer and extending his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N, and it’s all good.” You say, taking his hand and shaking it. You find yourself lingering in the warmth of his hand, reluctant to let go. When you release his hand, you smile softly, enjoying the small connection the two of you had made.

“Well, I should let you rest, but it was really nice to meet you.” He says, smiling as you nod, he then turns away, walking back to his bunk bed.

Luke’s heart pounded as he laid in bed that night, still thrilled after the excitement of your meeting. Chris had been right, you were his dream girl, perfect, exactly who he had always wanted. He couldn’t wait to see you again, to hear your voice, to see your glowing smile. He felt like a giddy schoolboy with a crush, desperate for your attention.

He dreamed of you that night, of holding your hand, guiding you through life at camp. He hadn't ever fallen for someone like this, so fast, so desperate for attention.

When he woke up that morning, he was still desperately excited to see you, wanting nothing more to see your smile yet again.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” He pipes up, sliding up beside you at the archery grounds. He didn't know why he bothered to check on your name, it had been in his thoughts for hours, ever since you told him.

“Yeah, it’s really good to see you again.” You emphasize the really, realizing that you may be starting to form a crush on the boy you had met only days ago.

“Yeah, yeah, um, you- you too.” God, he needed to get it together. He smiled, his heart warming as you smiled back. He watched you for a few minutes, looking at your aim. “Hey,” he suddenly piped up, “can I help you with your position a bit?”

“Oh, that would be amazing.” He quickly stepped up behind you, hands on yours as he moved your body little by little. His breath was hot on your neck, the smell of toothpaste, his shampoo, sun lotion, and sweat filled your nostrils, his own version of summer in a scent. It made you want to burrow your face into his neck, take in his musk.

“Alright, just aim, and shoot.” His voice brings you out of your dreamy haze. You shake your head a little, then release the arrow. He watches it soar through the air, hitting the target with precision. “Good job.” He praises, his voice light. making your insides heat up with both embarrassment and excitement.

“Thank you, really, you don’t know how much better you’ve made this all for me already.” You say with a light chuckle, all he could think about was how much better you had already made his life, just by existing.

“Hey, um, I know this is really random, but the lake, um, there’s a- a dock on it, and I wanna know if you’d want to go watch the sunset on it? Like, with me?” His heart pounds in his chest as he speaks. He was so scared to be rejected, maybe it was lingering fear, that finally trusting something would backfire on him.

“I- I’d actually love to, um, would it just be us?” You ask timidly, fearing that your feelings would be revealed too much, scaring him off.

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you and all.” He replies, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Dude, you actually scored a date with her? She’s been here for like, 3 days, and all the guys are already on her.” Chris said after Luke had relayed the events of your encounter.

“Yeah, I think she’s into me too, I mean, she checked to see if we’d be alone, so that’s a score.” He says with a light chuckle before taking a bite of his dinner. He looked up to see you chatting excitedly with a few girls you had made friends with. It made him happy to see you happy, especially with your new friends.

“Just keep her close, all the other guys here would pounce on her in a heartbeat.” Chris adds, unknowing of how this seemed to spike Luke’s trust issues. He tried to push the thought away, but it was always there, lingering in the back of his head, even as he got ready to meet you.

There he sat, about 15 minutes before sunset, on the dock, fluffing his curls up while waiting for you. He hadn’t dressed up much, just wearing cargos and a black hoodie considering that it would get chilly as the sun went down. His jaw almost dropped when he saw you walk up. You wore a lace cami, pink with lace trim and a little bow, along with light wash, flared jeans.

“Holy shit, you are making feel really under-dressed. You look stunning.” He commented, eyes fixed on the way your eyes seemed to sparkle, even in the low light, as you took your seat beside him.

“I didn’t know what the dress code was for this, so I figured dressing nice would be the better option.” In all reality, you were hoping he’d give you his hoodie at some point in the night. “You look nice too, I mean, you always do.” You say softly, a blush forming across your face as you did.

“Thanks, thanks, uh, can I- is it okay- is it okay if I hold your hand?” He asks tentatively, the way he stumbles over his words makes your heart flutter a bit.

“Yeah, of course.” Your voice is low and quiet, you reach out to take a hold of his hand, shifting a bit closer to him, shoulder pressed to his. Your head leans a bit, and he nods, as if giving you approval to put it in his shoulder. The two of you sat there for a little while in silence, watching the colors of the sun set over the lake. Rich oranges and cotton candy pinks reflected on the lake’s surface. Luke could feel you shiver slightly, and it gave him an idea.

“Hey, if you’re cold, you can have my hoodie.” He offers, looking into your eyes. God, he loved your eyes, all the different colored specks, he could get lost in them forever.

“Oh, yeah, um, if it isn’t too much trouble.” You respond, almost shyly. He quickly takes his hoodie off, his shirt pulling up a bit, giving you a tantalizing glance at his abs. He hands it to you with a smile, and before you put it on, you reach over to fix his curls, now a bit messy.

Luke couldn’t believe this was happening, I mean, he was laying on the dock, watching the sunset with you, you were wearing his sweatshirt, and he was pretty sure you felt the same way about him. As the sun finally set, the stars coming out to light up the sky, he finally decided to make his move.

“Listen, I might be reading this wrong, but I really like you, and-” You cut him off, your lips finally pressing to his. Luke’s body melted, one hand going to your waist, the other to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. He wanted to be as close to you as possible, to melt into you, to burrow inside your heart and live there forever. He almost panicked when you pulled away, clutching your waist in a desperate attempt to keep you close. You just giggled, settling with your head in his lap.

“I think you’ve got your answer, Castellan.”

[gremlingottoosilly]

Kruger telling his sister she'll be an idiot to not date König. And to stop being a prude, it's not like she has much options and he's sick of hearing König drone on and one about his sister

Being pushed into these relationships by your brother isn't something you expected or even wanted - but it's only logical when you think about it. Krueger is his best friend, as sociopathic as he is, and he kinda wants you out of his hair. He probably can't wait to turn the apartment into fuck drug house of his dreams once his dumb sister is out of the picture - so, naturally, you refuse to even talk to Konig, knowing that your brother's friends are probably the same grade of assholness as he is. However, you are a practical woman and you kinda want money. And normal life. And fucking move out of your brother's apartment without need to share a room with three other people if you were to move on your current budget...and Konig seems like an easy target. Hell, he is an easy target - can barely say two words when around you, the same degree as shyness as you are, and together you almost resemble a normal, functional couple. A perfect guy for someone like you - and you saw the kind of money he earns. A golden ticket into the nice life - as much as you hate proving your brother right, Konig isn't the worst option out there. Maybe second worst, on a bad day. Konig is...nice, when things are official. Yes, he is weird in bed, always trying to force you to do weird stuff like calling him sir in bedroom and making you act like his pretty soldier and a housewife, but the money is enough to make up for it. Almost enough to make you consider him as a serious option - he is asking about marriage, after all, dating for a month already made him think about tying the knot. You're not sure how to respond - everything moves fast, too fast for your liking, you just overwhelmed and tired and... Looks like Konig isn't really going to ask you though. You stare at the ring in front of you and you just fucking know why Kruger wanted his crazy friend out of his hair as soon as possible. You just didn't know he'd sacrifice his sister for it.

[mirensiart]

hello! I absolutely love your Zelda ocs, chain and key. I was thinking about them the whole day while I was working, (mostly about what chain’s attack combo would be if he was in smash bros) and I got curious about that magic chain!

is it a tool that is magic, like the whip from skyward sword; or is it magic that is a tool, like the spell only appears if link casts the magic chain spell?

very curious about it! You’ve got me thinking about attack patterns to be used by link, or link and Zelda together, or link using on something chained to him.

HELLOOOO, first of all it makes me EXTREMELY happy to know you like them so much 🥹💖 I wanted to make a post about chain’s uh magic chain, so you asking more about it is perfect since it lets me explain how it works!

I swear it makes much more sense in my mind, so bear with me a little bit hehehe

anyway so, the basics! link’s (chain’s) magic chain+shackle is an item! He got it as a bounty reward pretty early on in his career as a bounty hunter! It uses his magic to work, kinda like the korok leaf from the wind waker

When the chain is turquoise/green then it’s using link’s magic, when it’s grey it means link ran out of magic

the chain works with verbal commands that activate the magic, when link is out of magic no matter how many commands he yells the chain won’t react lol

here’s how the magic + commands works:

HOW HE USES THE CHAIN TO CATCH PEOPLE:

the shackles close around whatever is closest to them, so he just throws one at his target (he at least has good aim lmao) and when the shackle grabs them he uses the CHAIN CONNECT command and success! he is now chained to someone lol

THE KEY AND WHY IT’S IMPORTANT LOL

the magic key the chain comes with it’s important cause like, after link connects both shackles like he did above with his and Zelda’s, if he locks them with the key, even if he uses the “CHAIN RELEASE” command the chain will not disappear, it’s locked lol so by losing the key he is now LITERALLY chained to her until he finds a new way to release them lol

if he’s not chained to someone he absolutely can use the shackle+chain connect combo to grab stuff and use it as a weapon lol he can also use it as a whip, he’s pretty creative I believe in his ability to find weird ways to use it lol

With Zelda in the way I can also see them use link’s commands to change the length of the chain for combat or solving puzzles! just make sure to keep magic potions nearby cause if link runs out of magic the chain is basically a normal chain lol so rip them

[lilahlovesjjk]

🇼​​🇭​​🇪​​🇳​ ​🇮​ ​🇬​​🇷​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇺​​🇵

Chapter 1

synopsis: You and Satoru Gojo used to be inseparable—the kind of childhood best friends that promised to get married, rule the world, and never leave each other’s side.

Then life happened.

Now, years later, you’re both enrolled in the same elite psychology graduate program—only this time, you’re rivals. Gojo’s loud, flirty, obnoxiously charming, and infuriatingly good at everything. You're focused, sharp, constantly proving yourself—and desperate not to let the past (or him) throw you off course.

warnings: angst, slowburn (kinda), swearing, eventual nsfw, (i'll add to the list if I think of any more as the story progresses)

– Summer, Age 8

The grass is itchy under your knees, but you don’t move.

Not yet.

If you shift even a little, the crunch of a leaf or the snap of a twig will give you away—and you’ve waited far too long for the perfect shot to ruin it now.

Your hands are a little muddy from crawling through the overgrowth, but you’ve got a bright blue water balloon clenched in your fist like it’s a grenade. He’s right there, not ten feet away, lying back in the shade like some smug prince in a storybook. His white hair’s a messy halo around his head, his mouth open like he’s snoring, and his stupid sunglasses are still perched on his nose like he’s too cool for real life.

Satoru Gojo is many things. Annoying. Loud. Impossible to ignore. But right now? He’s your target.

You bite your lip to stop from laughing. Almost there.

You stand slowly—just enough to get the angle right—and hurl the water balloon at him with every ounce of righteous vengeance your tiny body can muster.

It smacks into his stomach with a loud, glorious splat.

There’s a split-second pause, and then—

“HEY!” Gojo shrieks, jolting upright like he’s been electrocuted. “What the hell?!”

You double over laughing as he scrambles to his feet, dripping wet and flailing, looking every bit like a soaked, indignant cat.

“That’s cheating!” he yells, pointing at you with the burst remains of the balloon.

You wipe tears from your eyes, still laughing. “You said no plastic guns,” you manage between wheezes. “You didn’t say anything about balloons.”

“That’s, like... that’s a loophole!” He sputters, wringing out his shirt. “A double cheat!”

You beam, crossing your arms smugly. “Sorry you can’t keep up.”

Gojo narrows his eyes, and you know that look—the one that means retaliation is imminent. You scream before he even moves, bolting toward the hill with him hot on your heels, wet footsteps slapping against the packed dirt.

You don’t get far.

He tackles you easily, the two of you tumbling into a patch of grass in a tangle of limbs, laughing so hard you can barely breathe. You roll onto your back beside him, flushed and muddy, with grass stains smeared up your arms and across your knees.

“Truce?” you pant.

Gojo raises a brow. “Until dinner.”

“Fine.”

For a while, neither of you say anything. The air is warm and lazy, filled with the buzz of cicadas and the faint sound of a distant lawn mower. A breeze lifts the ends of your hair. You close your eyes, letting the sun paint gold behind your eyelids.

“I don’t wanna grow up,” you murmur.

Gojo turns his head toward you. “Why not?”

You shrug, cracking one eye open. “Grown-ups are weird. They never smile unless it’s fake. They forget how to play. And they’re always sad or tired or mad about bills.”

He’s quiet for a second, chewing on that. Then he sits up and squints at the sky, like he’s trying to map out the future with his bare eyes.

“Okay,” he says finally. “So... let’s not grow up like them.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

“We’ll grow up like us,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We’ll be cool. And happy. And we’ll live in a giant house with a home theater and dogs. Lots of dogs.”

You snort. “You can’t even take care of your goldfish.”

“You’ll take care of them,” he says without missing a beat. “And I’ll do the money stuff.”

“I’m not being your dog butler.”

“Fine,” he relents, lying back again with a heavy sigh. “We’ll just order pizza forever and never do dishes. That better?”

You’re quiet for a long moment, eyes on the sky. Then, before you can overthink it, you ask:

“Will I still know you?”

Gojo turns his head to look at you. The sun glints off his sunglasses. He pushes them up onto his forehead so you can see his eyes—bright, blue, and so very certain.

“Duh,” he says. “We’re gonna be together forever, because when I grow up i'm gonna marry you."

Your throat feels weird. Tight. Like the wind is pressing down on it.

“You promise?”

He stares at you for a beat too long.

And then he grins, wide and warm and stupid, and sticks out his pinky. “I promise.”

You hook yours with his, and it’s so simple. So easy.

You don’t know that in just a few years he’ll outgrow you, you will see him pass by you in the hallways without sparing you a second glance. You won’t hear from him. You'll wait and wonder and outgrow the field you used to conquer together.

But right now, you believe him.

Because Gojo Satoru has never broken a promise to you.

Not yet.

And then the bus screeches to a halt, jolting you back into the present so hard your teeth knock together.

You blink hard, vision clearing just in time to see the stop sign flash past.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, "I'm gonna be late." You scramble to grab your bag and jump out of your seat.

The bus doors hiss open, and you leap down the steps like they’ve burned you.

The air is thick with the late-summer heat that clings to everything, and your backpack bounces against your spine as you take off at a half-run, dodging slower pedestrians on the sidewalk with the precision of someone who refuses to be the person who walks into class late on the first day.

You barely glance at the campus you’ve spent the last week trying to emotionally prepare yourself for. It’s prestigious. Gorgeous. Overachieving in that old-money kind of way. Red brick buildings covered in ivy. Classical columns. Students who already look like they’ve read Freud in Latin.

Your stomach churns with nerves and caffeine and adrenaline.

Psych grad school. You made it. You’re here. You’re—

Five goddamn minutes late.

You shove the heavy door open to the psych building and stumble into the main lecture hall, breath catching as your eyes sweep the room. It’s sleek and modern, filled with floor-to-ceiling windows and that painfully sterile academic lighting. The room is basically entirely full.

You bite down a curse and step inside as quietly as you can. The professor hasn’t started speaking yet, thankfully, though she’s flipping through her notes at the podium with thinly veiled impatience.

You scan the rows.

And freeze.

Because of course the only empty seat left in the entire godforsaken room is next to him.

Gojo Satoru.

You nearly choke.

He’s lounging in the seat like he owns it, one arm slung over the back of your empty chair, legs sprawled out comfortably, sunglasses still perched arrogantly on his nose despite the fact that you’re indoors. His white hair is messier than you remember. The curve of his jaw has sharpened. The cocky grin on his face? Unchanged. Timeless. Infuriating.

Your heart stutters once in your chest—and then slams back into your ribs like it’s trying to make a break for it.

You haven’t seen him in years.

Not since he stopped talking to you.

Not since he broke a promise with a pinky and a smile.

And now he’s sitting there, as if no time has passed at all.

You move before you can think, before your legs decide to betray you completely. You make your way down the aisle, eyes forward, shoulders squared like you’re going into battle.

He notices you halfway down the steps.

You can feel the exact moment he recognizes you.

“...angel?”

His voice is low, curious. Disbelieving. A slow grin spreads across his face like the sun rising to mock you personally.

“No way. No way.”

You drop your bag next to the seat and sit down without looking at him.

“Don’t call me that,” you say, voice tight.

He leans over slightly, like he’s trying to make sure it’s really you. “Holy shit. It is you.”

“Gojo,” you acknowledge coolly, fixing your gaze on the front of the lecture hall.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, cheerfully:

“You look good.”

“Do not flirt with me,” you snap.

“Who’s flirting?” he says innocently. “Maybe I’m just surprised you turned out so—” He flicks his fingers vaguely toward your face. “—symmetrical.”

You grit your teeth. “And you turned out exactly like I thought. Arrogant. Unbearably loud. And wearing sunglasses indoors.”

“They’re prescription,” he lies.

“They’re not.”

He shrugs, clearly pleased with himself. “Still mad at me, huh?”

You shoot him a look that could cut steel. “Mad? No. I don’t waste energy on people who just basically disappear like cowards.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Wow. Right in the ego.”

“You don’t have an ego. You are an ego.”

The professor clears her throat at the front, and the class falls into silence. She introduces herself as Dr. Yuki and launches into the syllabus, but your focus is already shot to hell. You’re hyper-aware of Gojo next to you. The faint scent of his cologne. The way his long fingers tap restlessly against his notebook. The occasional sideways glance he throws you like he’s dying to say something else.

Halfway through the lecture, she opens the floor for discussion—early theories of personality and identity formation.

You raise your hand.

So does he.

You both speak at once.

She points to you.

"Adverse Childhood Experiences, like abuse, neglect, and household dysfunction, can disrupt brain development leading to long-term negative impacts on physical and mental health." you explain, "Some may argue though that ones genetic temperament they inherit from their parents may also shape how they turn out. While I do agree that genetics may cause some of it, I have to agree with Vygotsky when he says that the environment and social interactions does play a more substantial role in early development."

You hear a few murmurs of encouragement and classmates sharing ideas based off of what you just said, you fit in here even though you were the only one late.

"Well done. That was very well explained, I can see you doing well in this class." Dr Yuki says with a nod

Gojo raises his hand. Of course he does.

“I mean, sure, environment’s huge,” he says lazily. “But your explanation on the way individual temperament shapes how a person interprets that environment was lacking. Two kids in the same house, totally different outcomes. Like me and—” he gestures toward you with a grin, “—my charming rival over here.”

You glare at him. “I’m not your rival.”

“Aw,” he says, eyes sparkling. “You’re right. You’re more of a—what’s the word? Stalker?”

A few students laugh.

You want to strangle him with your tote bag.

Gojo spoke up again to continue his point. “Anyways, two people raised under the same roof can have wildly different outcomes because of how they’re wired from the start. Personality traits like resilience, impulsivity, emotional regulation—they aren’t always shaped by the environment. Sometimes they shape how someone responds to it. You’ve got to factor in nature and nurture, or you’re missing half the picture.”

He shrugs, leaning back again, his voice annoyingly smooth.

“I’m just saying, not everyone who grows up in a tough household ends up traumatized. Some people—” he tilts his head, his grin curling into something a little sharper, “—come out even stronger.”

Your jaw tightens.

It’s a valid point, sure. But you know the tone he’s using—like this is a game. Like your answer was just an opening for him to show off.

“Interesting insight,” Dr. Yuki says neutrally, though she gives you a small, encouraging glance. “The interaction between temperament and environment is, of course, highly complex and still being studied. You two make a good pair of thinkers. Keep it up.”

Gojo shoots you a wink. You fight the urge to roll your eyes so hard they detach.

The rest of the class breezes by in a blur of academic introductions and syllabus breakdowns. You try to refocus, but Gojo’s presence next to you is like a flickering neon sign. Loud. Distracting. Impossible to ignore. He doesn’t talk again, thankfully, but you can feel his attention flicking toward you now and then, like he’s just waiting for you to snap back.

You don’t give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you copy down the reading list with mechanical precision and pack up your things the moment Dr. Yuki dismisses the class.

“Don’t run away, angel,” Gojo drawls the second you stand. “You’ll hurt my feelings.”

You whirl around so fast your ponytail nearly whips him in the face.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss, your voice low enough that only he can hear. “We’re not eight anymore, and we’re not friends.”

He leans on the desk, utterly unbothered. “Didn’t say we were. Though the chemistry? Still there.”

“Chemistry?” You scoff. “There’s more chemistry between a paperclip and a microwave.”

His grin grows. “Kinky.”

You stare at him.

Gojo Satoru has always had this uncanny ability to derail you with just a few words, like your entire nervous system short-circuits on contact. He knows it too—he drinks it in, like your frustration is the most refreshing thing in the world.

You shoulder your bag and march down the steps toward the door. But before you can make a clean getaway, you hear his footsteps behind you.

“Wait up,” he calls, catching up easily. “Walk me to class?”

You snort. “No.”

“C’mon,” he says, eyes glinting. “For old time’s sake.”

“That’s exactly why I’m saying no.”

He laughs, and it’s that same carefree sound that used to echo across your backyard and down the hallways of your childhood. It used to make you smile without thinking.

Now it just makes you want to punch something soft and expensive.

The two of you step into the hallway, where a rush of students swarm past, their voices echoing off the polished tile floors and high ceilings. The psych building smells like lemon cleaner and overachieving.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” he says, falling into step beside you like this is normal. Like he belongs next to you again. “You did miss me, right?”

You blink up at him. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, winking. “It’s embarrassing.”

You stop in the middle of the hallway, making a group of passing undergrads grumble as they sidestep around you.

“Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he corrects with a shit-eating grin.

You ignore him. “You think this is some kind of joke, don’t you? Like you can just show up after all these years, tease me a little, and we’ll fall back into the same rhythm?”

He tilts his head, mouth still curved like he’s seconds away from another quip. But this time... his eyes shift. Just a little. Like he’s searching your face for something.

“No,” he says. “Not a joke.”

You wait, breath caught somewhere in your throat.

But he says nothing else.

Instead, he leans against a nearby column and lets his eyes wander, like he's suddenly too cool to look at you directly. “You really went all in on psych, huh?”

“I didn’t realize I needed your approval.”

“Didn’t say that. Just... impressed.”

You blink. “You’re impressed I’m in grad school?”

“No,” he says, eyes sliding back to yours. “I’m impressed you still argue like you’ve got something to prove.”

The air between you sharpens. You know what he’s really saying. That you’ve always been this way—clawing your way toward perfection, carrying something on your back that he never had to. You’ve always felt like you were running out of time, while he was coasting on endless charm and raw brilliance.

That sting burns down your throat.

You shift your grip on your bag and step away. “Some of us don’t get to coast through life on vibes and daddy’s credit card.”

His eyes flicker. You see it—the flash of something dark, something vulnerable—but then it’s gone. Walled off behind his sunglasses again.

You hate that it makes you feel guilty.

“I’ve got criminology next,” you say, voice clipped.

Gojo straightens up, clearly deciding to let your jab slide. “Still into crime shows, huh? Let me guess. Still think you’re gonna psychoanalyze serial killers and end up on a Netflix docuseries.”

You roll your eyes. “I’d rather end up on Netflix than a Buzzfeed article titled ‘College Clown Dunks on Childhood Best Friend in Lecture.’”

“Catchy title,” he says. “Bet it’d go viral.”

“I’m sure you’d make sure of it.”

You both reach the intersection between halls. He stops first, hands in his pockets, hair catching the sunlight from the tall windows. For a second, he just watches you.

“Hey,” he says, softer now. “I wasn’t trying to ruin your moment in class.”

You blink.

He shrugs. “I was just... trying to talk to you. Y’know. Like the old days.”

You study him. The smirk is still there, but it’s thinner. Like it’s holding back something real. You remember one of the last times you saw him—on that hill, his pinky linked with yours.

You want to hate him.

But you never could.

The apartment smells like sesame oil, soy sauce, and victory.

You and Shoko sit cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by takeout containers and chopsticks like two dragons guarding their hoard. Your laptop is somewhere under the chaos, long forgotten in favor of spring rolls and sweet and sour chicken. The coffee table is a battlefield: orange chicken juice has bled into the napkins, someone definitely spilled chili oil on the remote, and there are at least three fortune cookies smashed open like tiny edible grenades.

“Okay,” Shoko says, waving a dumpling in the air like it’s a gavel, “but hear me out—what if we just quit grad school and open a food truck called Freud and Fries?”

You choke on your lo mein. “What are we serving? Deep-fried childhood trauma?”

“Exactly. Repress it and fry it.” She takes a victorious bite of her dumpling. “Our signature item could be the 'Oedipal Combo Platter.' Comes with mommy issues and a side of existential dread.”

You collapse into giggles, nearly knocking over the hot and sour soup. “We’d go bankrupt from the lawsuits alone.”

Shoko shrugs, unbothered. “Worth it. At least I’d die with some dignity. Or MSG.”

You're both dressed in your laziest pajamas—yours a faded t-shirt with cracked letting that says PSYCH ME UP, paired with polka-dotted pajama pants, and Shoko’s a vintage Hello Kitty set two sizes too big. You both have thick, goopy face masks on—Shoko’s is mint green and smells faintly of cucumbers, and yours is some trendy charcoal detox thing that has turned your face into a matte gray void. You feel like a sexy Halloween ghost.

Shoko sticks a spoon into the pint of fried rice between you and narrows her eyes. “You looked stressed when you came in.”

You grunt in agreement and flop dramatically into the couch cushions. “I had to listen to four different people misquote Piaget in a row during discussion.”

She winces. “Brutal.”

“One of them said children don’t develop object permanence until they’re like, six.”

Shoko looks scandalized. “Six? What do they think babies are? Goldfish?”

“Apparently! I was this close to throwing my textbook across the room like it was a damn Pokéball.”

You mime it, complete with sound effects. Shoko offers a slow, respectful golf clap.

There’s a lull while you both snack, content with the comforting crunch of dumplings and the low hum of your apartment’s ancient heater clanking in the background. The city outside is muffled through the window, its glow filtering through the curtains and casting a sleepy amber hue over your living room.

You exhale, forehead pressed to your palm. “It’s just been... a day, you know? All this talk about childhood trauma and brain development and I’m sitting there thinking, like, damn. Maybe I should’ve been a barista instead.”

Shoko hums thoughtfully. “I think you’d be a menace with a milk frother.”

You grin. “I would be. ‘You want extra foam? How about some extra childhood baggage too?’”

She clinks her glass of wine against your soda can like it’s a toast. “To repression and cappuccinos.”

You lean back into the couch, letting yourself melt into the cushions like overcooked tofu.

“You ever think about how different things felt when we were kids?” you ask, voice quieter now, eyes focused on the ceiling. “Like… how we thought growing up meant knowing everything? Being sure of yourself?”

Shoko looks over at you, her mask starting to crack around the edges.

“Sometimes,” she says. “But I think we also assumed being an adult meant not feeling like a mess all the time.”

You smile faintly. “Remember back in high school when I used to hang out at your house after school and we’d make those horrible microwave brownies?”

Shoko smirks. “You mean the ones we drowned in whipped cream to hide the taste of burned chocolate?”

“Those,” you laugh. “We thought we were culinary geniuses.”

“You also tried to make a ‘trauma-free playlist’ on my iPod that was just ABBA songs.”

“That was a masterpiece.”

“You put ‘Dancing Queen’ on there three times.”

“I was trying to manifest joy!”

You both burst into laughter again, until your cheeks hurt and your stomach aches from all the dumplings and giddy exhaustion.

When the laughter fades, you sit in silence for a moment, face tilted toward the ceiling, your voice thoughtful when you finally say, “We used to dream about what kind of adults we’d be. I thought I’d have it all figured out by now.”

Shoko leans her head against your shoulder.

“I think we are figuring it out. Just slowly. And with worse skincare habits than we expected.”

You sigh. “You know what’s weird? Sitting in class today, talking about how much childhood experiences shape your whole brain—it made me remember things. Like, out of nowhere. Stuff I haven’t thought about in years.”

“Like what?”

You hesitate for a beat. Then: “Like... this kid I used to be close with in elementary school. We were inseparable back then. Always swore we’d stay best friends. He was loud and ridiculous and so sure of himself. I used to think he’d grow up to be famous or something. Or, I don’t know... still be around.”

Shoko doesn’t press you, just gives your knee a nudge with hers.

“You miss him?”

You poke at a leftover dumpling with your chopsticks. “Maybe. Or maybe I just miss how simple everything felt back then. Like the future was some shiny thing we were racing toward together. Now it’s just... this blur of stress and student loans.”

You let out a long sigh, shoulders finally sagging into the couch. “Why does he still get to me? Like—we haven’t been close in years. We’re not friends anymore. So why does he walk into a room and suddenly I’m ten years old again, begging him to pinky promise he’ll still like me when we grow up?”

There it is.

The air shifts just a little.

Shoko doesn’t say anything right away. She wipes the excess mask from the tip of your nose with the cat paw brush before responding.

“Because you’re still mad,” she says gently. “You’re still hurt.”

You don’t answer, eyes fixed on the sesame chicken.

“He was your best friend,” she continues. “And then one day he wasn’t. And instead of giving you closure, he just... popped back into your life with a smirk and perfect teeth and no explanation.”

“God,” you mutter, “his teeth are perfect.”

Shoko hums in agreement.

You chew your lip, hating how true it all is. “It’s not even that he left. I mean, yeah, that sucked. But it’s that he never said why. We just drifted. He got popular, got loud. And when I asked what was going on, he just gave me that stupid grin and said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Angel.’”

You blink hard.

“I’m still worrying about it.”

Shoko leans her head against your shoulder. “That’s because you never stopped caring.”

Shoko holds up a fortune cookie like a priest offering a blessing. “Here. This will cure your existential dread.”

You crack it open and read the tiny slip aloud: "You will soon receive the answer you’ve been seeking."

You both stare at it.

Then you deadpan, “If this thing is talking about my psych midterm, it’s a liar.”

Shoko snorts and tosses the fortune at the coffee table. “I hope the answer is Chinese food leftovers for breakfast.”

You grin. “We’re the smartest people in this program.”

As you both settle into the warmth of the couch, surrounded by the crumbs of your feast and the peeling bits of face mask flaking onto your pajama shirts, it strikes you just how much you needed this.

A quiet night. A stupid, cozy night.

No academic pressure. No pretending to be fine. No thinking too hard about people you used to know or feelings you’re still untangling.

Just you. Shoko. And six kinds of chicken.

Honestly? Not a bad way to grow up after all.

[love-toxin]

Two words: Ghostface. Sandwich.

hmmhrhrgrgrgegehegghh........ok bear with my rambles for a second. i love the idea of the two of them pinning you as their next target and trying to figure out all the plans. you're perfect cause you're cute and you'd make real pretty screams and they'd probably both whack off to seeing your blood but when they start getting close to putting things in action, of course, Stu starts stalling.

(cws: DDDNE, extremely fucked up n-consent, drinking/drugging, blood, gore, afab reader, you have been warned)

"C'mon Billy, she might be a virgin, we should get in her pants first." he begs, partly because he wants exactly that--to fuck you lifeless--but also because there's a teensy-weensy sliver in him that doesn't really want you to die. meanwhile Billy's mostly mad that you're actually a lot more tolerable than he thought once they start getting close to you, trying to get your guard down, because it's way harder to kill a chick that laughs at his jokes and plays along with his edgy compliments over a frigid bitch.

plus, Stu's right. you're hot. and he really loves it if you're insecure, cause it makes your reactions to him telling you you're pretty, you're smart, you're funny, so much sweeter. you don't fall for stuff easily and he likes that. likes the potential to watch you act like you know what's going on only for your heart to sink when you realize shit's getting real. but Stu will keep ruining it by getting all sappy and coming to your rescue when they call your house, and cooing at you as he tells you it's all right--it's not all right, he keeps messing up their plans--but Billy has to begrudgingly go along with it as they stash the costumes and knives to go play prince to your damsel in distress.

and imagine if you have a boyfriend--some dickhead that doesn't know his ass from his elbow, whose antics you tolerate despite being so out of his league. Stu has a very obvious crush on you but Billy broods a lot over it, and despite wanting to torment you with killing both of you at the same time, the two of them can't help it and end up slaughtering your little side piece while you're not around to watch. he can't explain it, he just wanted him gone. something dark stirred in him whenever he watched that asshole brag about how much of a bimbo you were or the size of his dick--if only he could make him watch when he and Stu got ahold of you, and finally made you scream.

but that has to come second to the main plan. killing you is what really matters. gutting you, flaying you open like a fish, standing over you as you choke on your own blood....it should make him feel more excited, but for some reason it doesn't. not when it's you. it's less enticing the better he gets to know you, and after awhile he wants to kill you just cause you're so damn irritating; taking up his thoughts and muddling his feelings and shit. really, he should just break into your house at night, fuck you while you're still half-asleep, and stab you before you even know what's happening. but he won't and it sucks cause he kinda likes you. he's got a crush. fucking embarrassing.

soooo....he just takes it out on you when he and Stu finally get you at the perfect moment. there's a party at Stu's house and everyone's left by around 2 am, drunk and falling over themselves as they bid farewell and head home for the night. everyone except for you, who's passed out on Stu's couch completely drunk because of--you guessed it--peer pressure. you barely even open your eyes when Stu flops down on top of you, giggling stupidly with a hand up your shirt as he kisses your sleepy lips. Billy's already pissed that his best friend made you drink so much cause you can't even fight back now, where's the fun in that? he wanted to feel you kick and squirm and cry as he held you down, but at least you're pliable enough that they don't have to wait. silver linings, he supposes. at least your little pink panties are cute. did you wear them for somebody, or are they just something you feel pretty in? the two of them toss them between each other while you lay barely conscious, and Billy mocks him for sniffing them so much before stuffing them in his own back pocket like a hypocrite. he'll use them to get off later when he's thinking about this before bed.

honestly, he wants to prove to himself that he can hurt you. he's a cold-blooded killer! a psycho! yet somehow some little cutesy whore is the obstacle that stands between him and his requisite bloodletting. killing you is like a mountain to climb for him, but every time he tries to scale it, it grows steeper. he planned on just taking what he wanted from you and leaving you with some nasty bruises to cry about in the morning, but his body has other ideas--he takes his time, he kisses you, rubs your clit to watch you shake and for those drunken mewls to slip out of your mouth. he gets into it a little too deep and mutters into your ear things that you won't remember; "you're so fucking cute", "gonna make it feel good", "bet you love this, huh?" and all manner of filth while Stu gets handsy and tongues at you between your legs. their plans fall through again and you survive the night, but does he really care now? does it matter?

cause when you wake up, you won't remember most of what happened. but you're pretty sure something did, and instead of relishing in your pathetic tears Billy takes the chance to comfort you. some random guys took advantage of you while you were drunk? it's okay. he's here. Stu's here too. they'll protect you, won't they? they're your closest friends by this point, and you're just so vulnerable you need someone to take care of you--that's what Billy insists, anyways, wanting to solidify that thought while you're in such a fragile headspace. you just have to trust them implicitly. drink whatever they give you and do whatever they tell you to. listen to them and only them and take their advice, they know what's best for you. that's what friends are for.

[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.

[thecutepoison]

This is very speculative, but I'm suspecting Kipperlily is using the Ethereal Plane to spy on the Bad Kids and if I'm right I might have figured how she got found out by the rogue teacher!

First, let me explain my paranoid thoughts about the spying. Since ep 3, we are aware that Kipperlily is hearing their conversations, even if we don't know for sure the extent of it. She, just like Riz, must have a crazy stealth modifier + reliable talent, however I don't think she's relying only on that.

So, there's a scene in ep 4 when the Bad Kids roll for perception to spot Kipperlily. Kristen casts See Invisibility and Fabian rolls a nat 20. Brennan describes, only to Fabian, that although he doesn't see Kipperlily, he feels the "twinge of some kind of sense". Very creepy. That implies that she's there but cannot be seen. She could be invisible, however I don't think that's the case because an invisible person could still be perceived through hearing or touch. Also, Kristen would have been able to see her because of the spell.

With that in mind, the paranoid goblin that lives inside my brain is convinced that she's using the Ethereal Plane to spy on the Bad Kids. The Border Ethereal is perfect for infiltration and spywork, since you pass through physical objects and watch everything in the material plane without ppl there perceiving you. There are a couple of ways to access the Ethereal Plane, with spells or items, but I have no ideia abt the specific method she might be using.

Her being in the ethereal plane explains why Fabian, with his nat 20, didn't notice any physical indicatives of Kipperlily but still felt a presence, like some sixth sense. Now, Adaine did use her Third Eye so she could see into the Ethereal Plane within 60 feet and still saw nothing. But that doesn't mean that Kipperlily isn't there since there's a very easy way to circumvent Adaine: Non detection. This is a third level spell that hides the target from divination magic - for 8 hours they "can’t be targeted by any divination magic or perceived through magical scrying sensors". The Rat Grinders, long time haters of the Bad Kids, are for sure aware that Adaine is a divination wizard, they would be fools to spy on the party without casting Non Detection first. She's the motherfucking elven oracle!

Okay, now about the rogue teacher. In ep 3, Siobhan theorizes the rogue professor is the ghost teacher. I think she's absolutely right! We know most teachers of Aguefort and even if the ghost one was among those we havent seen, the Bad Kids would probably have heard about them if they were teaching something like ranger class. It's plausible that the reason for the party having no ideia who they are and not even passing by them in the halls is that the ghost is the rogue professor. After all, no one knows who the hell they are, it's the whole point of their teaching method. And for a ghost it would be really easy to go undetected since they can travel through the Ethereal Plane, beside the insane stealth.

Indulge my conspiracy theories for a minute. Rogue professor = Ghost Teacher and Kipperlily can wander in the Ethereal Plane, the plane of ghosts. Even with the advantage of being on the same plane as the teacher, it would still be a nightmare to find them since they are a pro rogue. In fact, Kipperlily didn't achive that: the rogue teacher found her.

But how did she manage to have the professor find her? I'm sure it wasn't an accident, she's too calculating for that. So, I started thinking about what would I do in her place and came up with the stupidest ideia. It's utterly ridiculous. But it could totally work and the strategy seems kinda Kipperlily's style.

Remember the Ghost Steak? The one Fig tried to eat when she invaded the teacher's lounge in season one? It's the ghost teacher's lunch, and Brennan reestablished its existence in ep 3 when Adaine used Ethereal Sight, explaining that the school wards are porous enough to allow ethereal travel and other stuff.

So if I was Kipperlily, my dumbass plan would go as follows: invade the teacher's lounge through the ethereal plane and hide inside the fridge. It wouldn't be a problem for me since I'm intangible and can pass through stuff, plus the other professors wouldn't see me even if they opened the fridge. Inside, I wait as long as needed, until the Rogue/Ghost Teacher gets hungry. They finally open the fridge to grab their snack, only to find me looking at them from inside the fridge like a lunatic. Mission complete: got found by the rogue teacher and aced junior year!

It's so mundane and stupid and that makes me more convinced that's exactly what happened. It's too funny to not be true.

[wisteriaiswriting]

Doomfist, Mauga, Ashe, and Sombra dating a reader with comically bad luck.

𝕊/𝕆 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝔹𝕒𝕕 𝕃𝕦𝕔𝕜

Words: 546

He tries to not make it obvious that he’s laughing at you.

Is quick to make sure you’re okay and not injured.

Really tries to stop anything that happens to you, rarely succeeds.

***

Just as Doomfist turned the corner he got the perfect view of you falling onto the floor once again, scanning the ground for what you tripped over, only to find nothing. You had fallen over nothing. Quickly looking away while covering his face, trying to muffle his laughter but you still heard him.

“Akande!”

Pulling his hand away to instead pull you up off the floor, lifting you off it and into his arms.

Constantly laughing at you

If needed he’ll carry you around

Will be dragged into your bad luck by association all the time

***

All you could hear was Mauga’s laughter, what he was laughing at? You, someone had thrown a water balloon, and they were way off target. God, you didn’t even know where they were aiming but it ended up hitting you. Now you were left soaking and reeling from the pain.

“Mauga I swear to god, I wil–”

Unable to finish your threat as more water splashed into your face, but they didn’t hit you straight on this time. Instead soaking Mauga, freezing for a few seconds before shaking himself off like a dog.

“Mauga!”

Her first thought is to panic.

If it’s clear you’re safe then she’ll burst out laughing at you.

If you’re not though, she’ll become kinda overbearing.

***

Ashe rushed over, sliding across the first just far enough to reach you. How did this happen? Your girlfriend here wanted to do some aim training, specifically trying to hit and ignite dynamite. And you were so adamant on joining you, wanting to watch and grab any unexploded ones.

This one she had missed, stomping her foot as she held out her hand for B.O.B to give her another one. Giving her the perfect view to the falling bundle smacking you straight on the head, sending you sprawling on the dirt.

Which leads to now. Her reaching over to pull you closer, cradling your head practically on her chest. Hearing her stumble over her words apologizing, cutting herself off by leaving kisses where you were hit.

“Ashe, babe, I’m fine!”

“Ah, absolutely not!”

Always has everything on video.

Will play them for you and anyone else whenever she can.

Is constantly bringing up old stuff.

***

There was nothing happening today, even with her watching every angle at the base. That was until you entered her view, moving every other screen away to focus on yours. Because when you were around something happened, and she has the evidence to prove it. That was in the previous videos of you.

She watched so intently until it happened, instantly she burst out laughing. Having to curl into herself and turn away to calm down even just slightly, wiping away any stray tears. Leaning back up just to make sure that clip was saved to the folder holding every other time, moving her hand across the press the intercom button.

“¿No eres preciosa?” Watching as you turned around before looking up at the camera, huffing at your lack of understanding. “Pequeña polilla, ven aquí, lo tengo todo en video~”

***

¿No eres preciosa? - Aren’t you precious?

Pequeña polilla, ven aquí, lo tengo todo en vídeo~ - Little moth, come on over, I have the whole thing on video~

[iamnmbr3]

ok so i'm rereading Order of the Phoenix and what's up with Draco being so... helpful??

Like back in the Goblet of Fire he's litterally telling the golden trio to hide Hermione because she's visibly (how could you tell tho?) a muggleborn;

then in OotP in the train to Hogwarts he comes to say hi to Harry and hints that Sirius had been spotted by Lucius (the dogging line);

THEN he goes all the way to lean on Harry during Care of magical creatures to say how Hagrid's being messing with stuff to big for him.

HUH??

Why on earth would you say that to Harry? To taunt him? But he could have done it without revealing precious intelligence passed by his father!!

Like, to me it makes sense if it is intended as Drarry moments, because he has a crush and can't help but being invested in Harry's life, and accidentally being helpful to Harry, but we know that it wasn't the terf meant.

And we clearly see how easily Draco can make Potter angry(their interaction during Potions and Quidditch, Potter stinks badges, Weasley is our king ecc.)

It seems like he's trying to help in a reeeeaally backward way, but at the same time he's enjoying himself so much that they do not translate as helping hand.

Also to me it kinda falls flat on a Doylist perspective because the golden trio would have hidden in the forest without him, and they were already worring about Sirius and Hagrid so...

What do you think about it??

P.s.: i reaaally love your metas about hp universe, can't get enough of it <3

yeah, it’s wild. I get why while the books were still being written some people thought he was secretly undercover trying to help the order or something.

I don’t think at that point he was consciously trying to betray his side yet. I think that didn’t happen till book 7. But at the same time, I do think two things were going on.

First of all, he always craves Harry’s attention and does everything you can to get it. And he also really wants to be a part of her story. Harry has other things going on his life and till book 6, Draco isn’t the center of his focus (although he does actually think about and watch him a lot - something Draco doesn’t realize but would be thrilled if he knew). From the moment that Harry rejects his friendship Draco looks for ways to insert himself back into Harry’s life. Dangling his knowledge of things Harry is interested in is one way of doing that. And it also puts him on Harry’s level - in his mind - because his secondary involvement with the Death Eaters mirrors Harry’s secondary involvement with the Order.

And also in his mind shows how cool and serious and important Draco is. He’s always creating the perfect set up for an enemies to lovers story but Harry won’t buy it. Like I think of his mind he think Harry’s going to be like OK I really wanna know what’s going on so I’ll make a deal with you and that will evolve into a grudging friendship. Of course Harry won’t do that while Draco holds the attitudes he holds. Nor as I’m sure he also hopes is Harry going to be like wow I realize you’re so important and special and well-connected and I was wrong to turn down a friendship with you. Draco desperately wants Harry to need and respect him. (Only when he grows beyond this post book 7, and learn to except Harry’s boundaries and to change his own behavior will he actually earn either of those things.)

Secondly though, I think it’s really notable that most of these instances end up helping Harry to either learn information about someone he cares about or protect someone he cares about. The example at the World Cup is really striking. Hermione is specifically in danger because Lucius is one of the Death Eaters under the hoods and he knows who she is and likely intends to target her. Obviously, Draco isn’t going to directly betray his father, but he does warn her that if she stays where she is, she will be recognized and attacked.

Draco at that point kind of likes the idea of violence but he doesn’t like the reality of it and I think a part of him is uncomfortable with what would happen if she actually got caught so although he doesn’t acknowledge it even to himself, that’s the basis of the words. Plus he knows was Harry will fight to the death to protect her. Something similar is probably also a factor in what he says about Sirius. Even his comments about Hagrid to at least revealed that he is alive In addition to dangling more knowledge if Harry will talk to him and pay attention to him - which he won’t.

[opreaadriann]

Help with Revenge Ideas

So, right now I'm writing the plans that the MC can choose to make his presence known and make the targets unnerved.

I was going to tell you all about it in the weekly update but I know a lot of you got ideas for revenge and subtle, petty stuff, so I would be grateful with some help if you guys got ideas.

So, here's how I went with it: You can either choose to do 3 small things to unnerve your targets, do a big thing to announce their comeuppance, or do nothing.

For the small things, here are the ideas I came up with:

Dylan 1 - Make him find a copy of your favorite statue (not the original, fixed one) from childhood with its mouth broken (cause he's a snitch, ya know?)

Dylan 2 - Create a fake account with your childhood nickname (added this to chapter 1 to fit) and comment on his live stream of the dance how you remember the Tragedy

Olivia 1 - Make the presenter who talks before the Fighting Rooster performance use the same words uttered between you and Olivia before the dance (best friends forever, sad because this is the last year together).

Olivia 2 - Make someone spill punch on her and mention that they heard she likes it (I don't like this one, I feel it's weak and would be better for Haley)

Michael (if crush) - Make the opposing fans jeer "Ew" every time Michael is at-bat during the homecoming game

Cecily (if crush) - Make the opposing fans jeer "Ew" during a ceremony where she leaves her crown from last year for the homecoming royalty successor

Michael and Cecily (if not crush) - Disclaimer: this one is kinda fucked up, I don’t know why I went so hardcore. Make them find a fake prosthetic head of their dog, Godfather-style

Vivian 1 - For the photobooth at the homecoming dance, add a filter that adds bloody broken glasses on your face (this is from the bullying content added in chapter 1)

Vivian 2 - Stamp “creep” on her dress

Isaac 1 - Stick a poster on his locker with his face and a target over it with darts stuck into it. How Isaac announced his lamb every week, MC will announce him as their target.

Isaac 2 - idk, kill him? Jk jk. Or am I?

Connor - Not sure yet. Something about him being two-faced.

Haley - Probably something with punch. Still thinking here as well

For the big thing I want MC to write with invisible ink “Creep” all over the walls, all creepy-like, and on the homecoming royalty crowns as well. After the homecoming king and queen announcement, power goes out and everyone sees the “threat.” It works pretty well if you’re homecoming royalty as well.

So, yeah. I wanna know if you guys have ideas for the smaller annoyances to unnerve the targets. I’ve made another poll where you can input your own ideas and I’ll see if I can work with any of them! If you had some petty cool way of scaring the targets in mind, this is your moment to shine!

[anonmousegosqueak]

TIS THE DAY OF TOMFOOLERY.

Take 141 (+friends and enemies) doing stuff

Btw I'ma be totally honest- I have no idea if the non-americans actually do April fools day. And y'know what? I don't really care. I'm already turning sas members into the TwinkForce141, lemme live in my little imaginary world where they do. I'm sleepy and have been up since... A long time yesterday. I get this.

Price

Old man? More like perfect target >;3 The Sargent's have a field day just messing with him, hiding his hats, replacing his cigars, ect. Do they have to suffer the consequences afterwards? I mean obviously. Is it worth it? 100%

Except this year Price has got a little something up his sleeve~

Watch out boys, he's out for revenge.

Ghost

We all know he's the dad-joke king (I saw a really cute hc, I can't remember where it came from. But basically, Si gets his dumb jokes from candy and stuff) but- surprisingly enough he's not a prankster. At least not in my mind, I'm sure some of y'all disagree.

I think he's much more on the receiving end, especially by a shithead Scotsman that he regrets falling for (not like it was his choice to become hopelessly in love with the idiot).

Except this year, he's totally helping Price.

Soap

PRANKER.

Poor Ghost, mans has to sleep with one eye open. He's not sneaky about it either, unless he's working with someone else, you'll *know* one Johnny MacTavish is behind the prank. Just has that flavor, yk?

Gaz

Sneaky baby >:)

I think I stole this from someone (I'll add credits if I remember) but you never suspect Kyle. The amount of times Soap has been blamed for something Gaz has done? He doesn't prank often, but when he does he gets away with it and Soap is a little angrier (still loves him tho)

Roach

Another sneaky baby

Whereas Gaz has pretty privilege, Roach is the favorite child. He's less subtle and Soap tends to get blamed a bit less, but he just kinda... Gets away with it? Runs laps whereas Soap would be on cleaning duty for a month.

Also tends to team up with Gaz for the ultimate prank, or will team up with both Soap and Gaz for the sargent disaster™

Alejandro

Roldolfo

This is kinda where I fall off, the rest of these (except for a random white man, idk who invited him) are a bit less prank-y

But I think Alejandro does enjoy a good first of April.

His pranks are a lot more sweet though, it's almost cute. He'll "prank" the Vaqueros by hiding candy in their gear and stuff. Firm believer in "the best prank is one that everyone likes". I think he also had done a "no I won't get you ___" while actively getting it, but that's only for Rudy.

Doesn't. It's just not really his style. He does watch Ale though, enjoys his cute little giggles as he sneaks a new plush into their bed. Much more likely to make sure the other Vaqueros don't get carried away and kill each other.

König

Horangi

Sweet boy. So sweet and so clueless...

Literally falls for *everything*. I think that's actually how Horangi and him made it official:

Horangi: "hey baby, wanna be my boyfriend? ;)”

König: "!!! Maus, I didn't know you felt the same way!" *Heads off to go plain their wedding*

Horangi: "wait-"

Horangi was gonna say 'no homo', now he's five years in a loving relationship. König will never know, he's just happy his lovely tiger asked first.

Chaotic little prankster, get Kö to scoop him up to make sure he doesn't blow the entire base up. Yet somehow, *somehow* there is only one person he cannot prank. Everyone else lives in fear that a small shouty Korean man will break into their house and replace everything with something else (toothpaste Oreos, hair dye shampoo, ect.), except for a certain tall man who somehow always benefits... He forever will wonder what powers that man holds, all while making everyone else's lives a living hell.

Graves (and shadow-co)

Yup-yup! He gets put at the bottom because he's stinky and I hate him >:( that, and I want him away from my gay Mexican cowboys.

You cannot look at his dynamic with the shadows and tell me April isn't a dangerous month. I think they all extend it too, like all of April is like the 1st. Nothing on the field obvs, but back at base? You better sleep with one eye open fucker, that or you'll be regretting everything that led you to this moment. Dw tho, Graves is fair game and tends to get a bit ganged up on when it comes to pranks >:3