#i am so normal about this information (is lying)

[boozles]

Something I find interesting is that I haven’t seen any backlash against Gun. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want him to be hassled, but it’s strange to me that Tay is the one I’m seeing being targeted. People are acting like New has been treated poorly, but no one (that I can see) has said anything about Off or Gun. All vitriol has been aimed at Tay and I don’t think that’s fair at all.

(Just so I’m clear, NO ONE should be getting hate, but I’m bitter that I am still seeing idiots comment things like “sorry I will only support New now” or “how could you do this to New” and “shame on you for lying to us” and I am so confused? No one has lied about anything?! 4 men in their 30s are comfortable enough with each other that they are affectionate with one another - why the hell is one of them getting hate for that?!)

(Also, shout out to Mek for stepping in and informing everyone that he too kisses his friends on the mouth! He said it’s something culturally normal to them, and I love him for that.)

(ALSO!!! TayNew mentioned kissing Nanon - let me see that please - and it reminded me of the hate Nonnie got for the picture she posted where she is kissing Nanon on the mouth and people attacked her for it. For kissing her big brother. Sorry if it’s weird for some, but kissing is not always sexual. I kiss my friends, my brother, my parents…cheeks and lips. It’s normal for so many of us. If you’re my pal and you’re cool with it, I will kiss you too!)

[sophfandoms53]

“I just wanna make sure everyone’s safe.”

“Same. And that includes you, too.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Gonna make sure you’re safe too, Hunter. You’re family now.”

“Oh…”

[volivolition]

suggestion do you have... any wants? like obviously you do but like? suggestion my guy my ourple boy. both the easiest and hardest to write. you need a skill to say something to move conversation along but it doesn't fit any skill in particular? about 80% of the time you can have suggestion say it and it will make sense. but like actually characterizing him... how do i define you dude... what makes your character tick... urgh. i dont get you yet. im trying to understand but you are difficult.

[rootbeerworshiper]

Under the Table

Reader x Matt Sturniolo

summery: you’re left with no choice but to tutor the star hockey player, Matt Sturniolo, but as much as you pride yourself on not being into hockey players, not even you can resist.

warnings: smut!!!! fem!recieving, unprotected sex (reader on birth control), dumification kink if u squint, dom!matt, male!receiving, slight aftercare, fluff, yeah guys idk

love, sienna <3

being an english major at Boston University was no easy feat.

you were constantly engulfed in numerous amounts of homework, from essays to poetry analysis, you were swamped.

money wasn’t something that you grew up from, and with the large amounts of school work piling up, you didn’t have time for a job.

so when your professor mentioned tutoring, you were sold.

english was always something you were naturally good at and you prided yourself on keeping the same grades you had in high school while in college.

tutoring can’t be that hard right?

wrong.

you had put out a few flyers that offered your services and the one person who took you up on that offer was none other than Matt Sturniolo.

although the two of you went to the same high school you had never spoken outside of a couple class assignments—this was more than okay with you.

Matt fit the description of a dumb popular jock to a tee, and you considered the fact that he got into the same college as you unfortunate.

after hours of hard work and effort went into your acceptance, the last thing you needed to see was a post from your highschool congratulating the Matthew Sturniolo on his D1 scholarship to the school.

hockey was a pretty big part of New England but it was never a sport that spoke to you, well not that most sports did.

the entire atmosphere of hockey boys was enough to give you the ick and yet here you are, sat alongside the schools top player, trying to get him to form an essay.

“you have to have an argumentative statement, something to base the whole essay off of and interest the reader” you state, trying your best to not get annoyed at the clueless boy.

he stares at the blank google doc. “well what am i arguing?”

you sigh. this was harder than you thought. “the main theme of this essay is supposed to be on complexity. you chose ‘Beartown’ as your independent novel so you have to argue how the text is complex, or what makes it so complex.”

it was like talking to a toddler, the information going in one ear and out the other. “i can’t write the essay for you Matt”

he groans. “why not?”

you think for a second, once again attempting to not get frustrated. “the story is told from multiple perspectives right?” he nods. “why might that be more complex than a story just told from one?”

it’s clear he’s thinking, and you just hope what you said made sense. “well adding more perspectives would make it like complex because it builds a story that has layers”

subconsciously you smack his arm out of excitement. “yes! there you go. in better words you have your statement to build this essay off of”

you’re heart melts at his smile in response.

sure, you hated his guts, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t incredibly hot.

it’s difficult to peel your eyes off of him as he maintains eye contact with you, but you have work to do, and you won’t be yet another girl who grows infatuated with Matt Sturniolo—you just won’t.

the next few sessions were as normal as they could be.

it wasn’t easy to keep him on topic, he was always distracted by something.

sometimes he just looks at you, and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it—often diverting the conversation to something else.

trying to get him to understand poetry was a whole new headache.

you had spent hours in the library at this point after finally completing the dreaded essay, now crafting an analysis on different poems.

if you hadn’t picked such a comfortable outfit for this session you’d probably hate your life right now—so you mentally thank yourself for choosing a sweat suit.

to say you were both exhausted would be an understatement.

trying to teach a hockey boy the importance of the placement of words on a page and why capitalization can help emphasize certain points was tiring—you could tell he was tired too by the way he buried his face in his hands periodically.

“maybe we should just call it a night” you say, closing your laptop and yawning.

the last thing you expected was for him to disagree. “no wait i really need this done for tomorrow’s class it can’t be late. if i fail this class i can’t play in playoffs”

right. how could you forget the beloved hockey player will miss out on the big game if you don’t help him.

“i’d stay and help you but the library closes in ten minutes so there’s not much more we can do” you reply, already defeated.

Matt however has more ambition to complete this assignment than you expected. “we can go to my dorm”

you give him a look of slight disbelief. “your dorm?”

he just nods excitedly. “yeah my roommates out of town right now and we only have like 2 more poems left. it’s perfect”

“i don’t know Matt i’m tired” you sigh. not only were you tired but the idea of being in a college boys dorm was not the most appealing.

the eyes he gives you might be the death of you. “please?” you rub your forehead with your hand as if to release tension. “i’ll buy you red bull”

you smile at this. “fine. but i can’t be out for forever”

“you won’t be i swear. i’ll be so dialled in” he smiles. a sight that you are more than okay with seeing.

the walk to his dorm is short, with a stop at the campus confectionery for two sugar free red bulls.

not a lot is said as you enter the main building, walking through the halls as you near Matt’s room.

he goes to open the door but pauses. “don’t judge the decorations in here”

you smile at this, expecting something along with lines of hockey sticks taped on the walls. but what you were met with was much different.

there’s white christmas lights strung on the wall and shelves filled with numerous books and journals. all the furniture was a cohesive shade of brown and alongside the hockey posters were different vintage prints.

in the least weird way possible, you were jealous of his dorm. “this is not what i was expecting” you gawk as he shuts the door behind you.

it’s visible how embarrassed he is so you do your best to shut that down. “i love it actually, if you showed this to any of my friends they’d assume that i decorated it”

he smiles now but doesn’t touch on his ‘girl english major’ room decor tendencies. “uh i’ll just clear off the desk here and then we can get to work, you don’t want the overhead light on do you?” he asks, immediately earning a shake of the head from you.

so now you’re sat next to him, opening your laptop in the midst of the dim lit room as you sip on the red bell purchased by the brunette. “okay where do you want to start? you have two more poems to analyze”

he just rubs his eyes. “you pick”

getting him to focus would be an impossible task “if you’re too tired we can stop or-“

he shakes his head immediately, as if to wake himself up. “no i’m good to keep going, just need a sec to wake up” he defends.

“okay we’ll start with this one then, do you wanna read it?” you look to the tired boy.

“can you? i’ll listen i swear” you groan but agree, it’s been a long day and you don’t want to push him too much.

so you begin reading. “you must not wonder, though you think it strange” he places his hand on your thigh almost immediately. “Matt”

“keep reading, don’t worry about me” he leans into you slightly more, looking at the words on the screen over your shoulder, his breath hot on your neck.

“to see me hold my louring head so low” you continue, his hand inching closer to your centre.

normally you’d be against this—you’d be standing up and telling him off.

but something about the way his hand covers majority of your upper thigh and the smell of his breath has you insane.

so you try your best to focus on the words, not the pooling wetness in your underwear. “And that my eyes take no delight to range” he places a kiss to your neck—so incredibly gentle it could make your skin crawl.

you let out a sigh, trying to avoid throwing your head back as his hand makes contact with your clothed clit. “keep reading baby cmon”

you do as you’re told. “About the gleams on which your face do grow” he kisses down your neck now as his hand increases his gentle pressure.

subconsciously you buck your hips up—eager for more stimulation. “yeah you like that?” he whispers in your ear as you fight back a moan, instead just nodding. “i need words” he takes his hand off, still keeping his face close.

“fuck Matt yes i like it, i need more” you whine, shutting your eyes as his hand toys with the hem of your sweats.

“can i take these off?” he asks, tugging slightly.

you nod eagerly. “please” you lift our hips up and he slides your sweats off, leaving you in your underwear.

his hand roams your lower half, his palm placing pressure on your clit as his fingers explore your clothed entrance. “god your soaked. i knew you’d fall apart under my touch”

there’s the cockiness that normally you hate, right now though? it only turned you on more. “keep reading cmon pretty girl”

you open your eyes to look back at the screen. “the mouse with one hath-“ you let out a breath as his fingers go back to toying with your clit. “broken out of trap”

“not so smart now huh?” he whispers.

you’re a whimpering mess now with the way his thumb rubs small circles on your clit as his mouth places sloppy kisses on your exposed neck. “Matt please i need you”

this must have been enough for him to stop teasing because he immediately stands up, placing your hands on his shoulders as he grabs you legs to pick you up—finally placing his lips on yours.

it’s messy and it’s desperate but it’s also fucking hot.

he leans over, letting your back fall on his bed as he hovers over you.

wasting no time he signals for you to lift your arms as he brings your hoodie over your head, revealing your bare chest. he smiles at this. “such a fucking slut tutoring me without a bra on”

he hovers back over you now, whispering in your ear once more before his fingers begin to toy with your already hardened nipples. “couldn’t focus when i saw your nipples poking out of your hoodie, begging to be touched”

you can’t even reply with words, too focused on the way his thumb grazes your sensitive nipple.

you’re a mess and he’s barely done a thing, already arching into him, but you try to gain focus—if he gets to see you like this you deserve the same.

without words you reach for his shirt, struggling to lift it up as you’re overcome with pleasure.

he knows exactly what you want through, taking his hands off of temporarily, now hovering over you once more.

you can’t help but gawk at his physique. it’s hard to focus on the tattoos when your eyes are drawn to his abs that are extenuated by the dim lighting.

“gonna make you feel so good baby” he begins to make his way down. “you’ve spent so much time on me, gotta make it up to you, yeah?” he kisses your clit through your underwear.

at this point your throbbing. “yes” you spit out.

he pulls down your underwear, leaving you completely exposed for him as he stares at you once more, fully taking in the sight in front of him.

you hide your face with your hands, too embarrassed at the mere vulnerability. “let me see your face baby” you shyly remove your hands, looking up at the boy now—you’re practically begging with your eyes.

“you’re so fucking perfect” he leans back down to give you one more kiss, this one more intimate than the last few. “so much better than my imagination” you giggle at this but before you know it he’s back down where you want him, pushing your legs open as he spits on folds—mesmerized by the way it slides down.

before you can complain again he finally makes contact, licking up the wetness his voice has caused before focusing on your clit.

you’re already incredibly turned on, the feeling of his warm tongue on you causes you to let out an almost uncontrollable moan.

he lifts off, kissing your clit. “shhh baby, i have neighbours” he brings his hand to your mouth and you waste no time sucking on them to muffle your moans.

almost immediately he gets back to work, as if he’s starving for you—and to be fair he might be.

his constant flicking of his tongue on your clit has you whimpering and moving around under his touch—you’re already incredibly sensitive.

it’s like he’s in a trance, giving you his full attention, until momentarily he backs out for air. “wanna cum on my fingers?” you practically moan at his words, nodding frantically. “what’d i say about your words”

his hand continues working on your clit at a slow pace while he speaks. “yes- fuck wanna cum on your fingers” he smiles at this and immediately brings two finger into your entrance, if it weren’t for his hand that immediately covered your mouth the neighbours would be sick of you.

he goes slow at first, hitting your g-spot with every curl of his long fingers. “you’re so good Matt” you moan as he speeds up. “so fucking good”

it’s clear he liked the praise by the way he dips his head back down, his tongue making familiar contact with your clit.

you’re gone. absolutely spent under his touch.

his pace quickens when he feels you clench around him, his tongue forming small teasing circles on your clit while his fingers dig impossibly deeper into you.

“fuck” you throw your head back. “i’m cl- fuck i’m close” his already fast pace quickens, his tongue now applying a pressure to your clit you didn’t know was possible.

before you can even warn him your legs close on his pretty brown hair as you arch your back. it’s practically impossibly to stay quiet, his pace not slowing down at all as you rock your hips through your orgasam.

eventually he pulls back, not wanting to overstimulate you too much.

your practically out of breath from holding back your moans but his face comes to meet yours once more. “you did so good for me” he kisses you before you can reply, the rhythm of your lips together is comfortable.

as great as it is, you can’t help but feel his buldge through his pants on your thigh, so you do what you’re sure he appreciates and you reach your hand down—immediately wrapping your hand around the outline.

he stops kissing you and immediately drops his head to your shoulder and you fingers continue. “you gonna take your pants off or am i making you cum in your underwear”

he chuckles softly at this, but nonetheless gets straight to work sliding off his pants and leaning in to kiss you once more.

you decide to take initiative, flipping him over and immediately straddling him—the look in his eyes is priceless.

if you could take a picture you would. never in your life has someone looked so incredibly fuckable, but here was Matt Sturniolo, laying beneath you with his messy hair and eyes full of lust.

you waste no more time, grinding your hips on his clothed bulge and kissing along his collarbone—the poor boy practically shivers at your delicate touch. “if you don’t do something i swear to god-“ you grab his bulge now, looking at the boy who’s eyes have just squeezed shut.

“what was that?” its unlike you to be dominant, but it’s also unlike you to fuck a hockey player so really all cards were on the table.

you give in though, crawling down to lick his pre cum through his boxers, teasing slightly more before pulling them down all together—the sight is mouth watering.

he’s a mess beneath you as you look at him, his dick is a good size, longer than it is thick, the way his wetness practically glistens on his tip is enough to have you flustered. “cmon pretty girl stop teasing” he says from beneath you, his hands behind his head as he watches you.

you pull your hair back slightly as you place your flat tongue on his tip, making him hiss above you as he uses his hands to keep your hair out of your face.

almost instantly you get to work, taking as much of him as you can, letting your saliva drip down on his length as you slowly lift your head up and down.

his whimpers go straight to your core, your body already begging for more as you swirl your tongue on his tip.

you pop off almost unexpectedly, and speak before he can even say anything. “i wanna ride you” you wipe the saliva off your mouth as you look at the shocked boy who’s smile grows slowly.

“yeah?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows, unsure.

you nod your head sitting up more now to face him. “yeah” you smile and before he can fully reach for his bedside table you stop him. “i’m on birth control” you begin to crawl down leaving kisses on his stomach.

“and i.”

kiss.

“wanna.”

kiss.

“feel.”

kiss

“you.”

his breathing immediately increases as you line yourself up, his hands making their way to your waist to assist you as you lower onto his length.

you let out a breath as you adjust to the size. “fuck you feel so good around me” Matt practically moans out.

it takes a moment for you to adjust fully, but you begin moving up and down and the boy beneath you is a moaning mess.

you rock your hips a little faster, leaning forward now he places his mouth on your nipple and you can feel the way he moans into you—it’s hot as fuck.

it doesn’t take long for you to feel close, and it’s like Matt can tell because he immediately places his hand in between your bodies and places a familiar touch to your throbbing clit.

you pick up the pace, chasing your high. “Matt fuck i’m so-“ you just moan again, unable to speak.

through his many heavy breaths he replies. “me too pretty girl”

a few more rocks of your hips and you feel his warmth fill you up as your stomach feels the familiar clenching feeling, his hand moving quickly beneath you, causing your second orgasam of the night.

by now your both exhausted, tired from doing so much school and well, from fucking too.

you basically plop down beside him, the two of you out of breath.

“i like that form of payment” you joke, causing Matt to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck while your fingers begin to play with his hair.

you feel his smile on your collarbone and his hand makes its way across your stomach. “guess i’ll have to get tutored by you more often” he sighs, standing up and placing his boxers back on. he walks to the bathroom and you’re confused for a second, but he comes back out with a damp cloth, and begins cleaning the mess the two of you made.

Matt may be a dumb hockey player, but his pros definitely outweighed the cons.

he offers you one of his shirts which you welcome with open arms as you slide your underwear back on. it’s safe to say this is the giddiest you’ve ever felt after a hookup.

now that he’s back in bed you immediately lean into him, as tired as you are you still want to me close to him, wrapping your leg over his waist.

he rubs your bare thigh as he unplugs the lights and kisses the top of our head. “goodnight baby”

you nuzzle yourself impossibly closer to him. “goodnight Matt”

and with that the two of you pass out. the day completely drained both of you, and with the comfort of each other you were gone.

the next morning came by quick, the sun immediately waking you up. the boy next to you is still sound asleep and as cute as ever but the new day means his poetry analysis needs to be completed—for once you weren’t opposed to cheating.

you get up as slowly and quietly as you can, grabbing the laptop off of his desk and bringing it back into bed with you.

it doesn’t take long for you to complete the last two poems, you make sure to use less big words and get a couple things wrong so as to hide your actual identity.

just as you finish writing the last sentence Matt wakes up, tossing and turning slightly before his eyes meet you.

you smile at the sight of the sleepy boy. “good morning, how’d you sleep?”

he brings his arm to your waist, pulling you into him as you place the laptop to the side. “i was knocked the fuck out. what are you up to?”

“may have just finished your poetry analysis” a grin enters your face at the shocked expression Matt shows instantly.

“holy shit really?” he sits up now, hands still on you.

you play with his fingers. “it didn’t take that long or anything”

he scoffs. “i forgot you were a genius” you just kiss him in reply.

“you need to get ready, you have playoffs to train for” you say, you had noticed his calendar had a practice today when you were analyzing his room last night.

a few minutes later and Matt is ready, it really doesn’t take long at all to be a man.

you sit at the edge of his bed, putting on your sweats from last night.

he walks over towards you, hovering over you as he brushes through your hair with his fingers. “i’ll see you tomorrow night yeah?”

you furrow your eyebrows. “what’s tomorrow night?”

“playoffs” he smiles. “figured you might wanna watch your boyfriend score a few goals”

his confidence never fails to amuse you. “boyfriend huh?” you tease and he just nods, looking for confirmation. “guess as your girlfriend i’ll stop by for a bit” he misses you immediately, a smile still on his face when you pull back. “but don’t expect me to be screaming for you, that’s really not my scene”

“i’d expect nothing less”

a/n: this literally spawned out of mid air but omg so cutesy i want hockey matt in my life rn

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @1hvrrington1 @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift

@junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @flowernoemie @sturnified @alicejwebster @s7urnfilms @queenofawkwardfangirling @madsdogst @justlivinglive @safara05 @k-312-xx @sluttycupsworld

[stickandthorn]

Fearne’s done so much for the Bells Hells with her constant bold faced lying and love of changing her story half way through a conversation and going “Uh what??? I didn’t change my story 🤨 I am being normal” because what the fuck kind of information can anyone gather about what the Bells Hells are doing from talking to her. She’ll lie to you about anything. She’s lying to you right now. She was lying about lying! She might’ve told you the truth but how could you know when it’s sandwiched between 5 different lies all told with the exact same conviction. She is talking to you like you two were supposed to get lunch last Monday and had to reschedule. She lies like she’s gaslighting but she doesn’t put enough effort in for it to be gaslighting so it just leaves the victim deeply wrong footed. She’s acting like it’s ssooooooooooo not normal for you to be killing someone when you’re from the Evil and Killing Factory and honestly it would be better if the conversation just ended. But she’s not letting it end. She has 5000 charisma. What do you even do with that.

[faggy--butch]

sorry to ramble in your inbox but its kinda fucking me up how "trans man with a cishet boyfriend who misgenders him behind his back" is like seen to be a person to make fun of in the general queer tumblr space instead of a person who is in a vulnerable situation. i know that there is trans men who are also women and there are trans men who are genuinely okay with dating a cis man who considers himself straight but people talking about these hypothetical couples arent talking about these situations but rather about "haha stupid trans man doesnt realize hes dating a bigot"

theres this attitude that the hypothetical cishet boyfriend is actually a conservative so it should be obvious to trans man that he doesnt respect his identity but i feel like its less "oh its obvious that this specific man is a bigot" and more "obviously cishet white men are bigots" and its weird how people laugh at this person instead of acknowledging that even if you are dating a bigot its usually not a big win for you personally. like the bigot cishet boyfriend isnt going to be okay with his trans man boyfriend starting testosterone. like we can sympathize with emotional abuse happening towards other groups but when its gay and mspec trans men its like "oh he should have known that would happen" or "its his fault for dating a bigot"?

of course people have the same making fun of the victim narrative with afab nonbinary people who date cishet men who misgender them [and im sure this bleeds over to affecting all nonbinary people if people arbitrarily decide theyre afab if the nonbinary person refuses to tell them personal information about themselves but the larger narrative always specifies that this is an afab person] and its almost like a "this is what you get for being attracted to men" sort of thing.

and also i theres something to be said about warning people for signs their partner or potential partner doesnt respect their identity but considering i imagine its a common anxiety among trans and nonbinary people who are into that sorta thing to wonder "am i ever going to find someone who loves me and is also accepting of me for being [insert gender here]?" its sort of fucked up for it to be common to basically claim "yea if youre dating a cis man who said he was straight before he started dating you but says he respects your identity hes probably just straight up lying to your face" and then laugh at the person getting misgendered for not knowing they were being misgendered.

anyway sorry for this big ramble i cant even remember specific instances of this to reference so i might seem like im making up a guy to be mad at but i swear this is like a general attitude and almost running joke i see around. anyway. have a good day.

I absolutely see that too, and I think it's a mixture of straight up victim blaming, because oh noo how dare you WANT to date *gasp* cis men

but it come with an intense transandrophobia and exorsexism because there's a lot more sympathy when it comes to cis women dating cishet men "poor things uwu" but when it's trans men or in this case non binary people assumed to be women, it's always "see I told you so" smug superiority. (cis women get this too, because of misogyny obviously, but it's different and worse for trans men) People are just waiting for a chance to be misogynistic and trans men are an acceptable target. This is honestly extra fucked up when we remember that trans men experience some of the highest rates of domestic violence and rape in the community though.

being trans is such a vulnerable place to be in, and a lot of people, trans or not are insecure or just want to be loved, that's normal. A lot of people are willing to accept certain behaviors from their partners that are bad, because of those reasons as well, victim blaming, and ESPECIALLy telling trans men to toughen up or "what did you expect" is apart of the toxic expectations that get placed of trans men as well. I could honestly go on for hours about this. good ask,anon

[alessiasfreckles]

amnesia (ona batlle x reader)

You wake up in the hospital with no memory of who you are or anything about your life, but a pretty brunette is by your bedside, so it can't be all bad, right?

warnings: memory loss, car accident mention, hospital

a/n: part 2 here!

----------

“She’s awake!”

Squinting against the harsh light, you slowly opened your eyes, taking in your surroundings. You were lying in bed in a room with white and grey walls and bright overhead lights. The bedsheet covering you was soft against your hands.

You blinked, looking around the room. Four people were stood around you, a woman in a white coat, a man in light blue scrubs, and two young women in everyday clothes. The two women looked on the verge of tears, but you weren’t sure why.

Opening your mouth to speak, you gagged as you realised your throat was obstructed by something. The realisation quickly turned to panic, feeling like you were being choked, unable to breathe. One of the younger women turned to the woman in white, who you were pretty sure was a doctor, and spoke rapidly in a language you couldn’t understand. 

The doctor and the man, who you decided was probably a nurse, quickly worked to remove the tube from your throat. Eyes watering, you coughed and rubbed your throat, glad to be free of it. When you opened your mouth to speak again, the doctor interrupted you gently.

“Careful,” she said. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Wh- where am I?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse, and your tongue felt like sandpaper. “Is this a hospital?”

The two women exchanged anxious glances.

“Yes, this is the Hospital de Barcelona,” the doctor told you. Barcelona, huh. That explained her accent. “Do you remember why you’re here?”

You frowned, shaking your head. Now that she mentioned it, you had no idea what you were doing there.

“That’s okay. It’s perfectly normal not to remember much. You were in an accident. You were hit by a car. Miraculously, you only broke some bones in your right leg, but you hit your head pretty hard. You’ve been in a coma since the accident, 15 days ago.”

Your mind raced as you took in the information. Why couldn’t you remember any of it? Why couldn’t you remember anything? Not even-

“Now, can you tell me your name?” the doctor asked, interrupting your stream of thought.

Not even your name. 

“I- I don’t know, I don’t know my name, why don’t I remember my name?” you asked frantically. You tried to sit up but stopped as a wave of pain radiated throughout your body, crashing over you. One of the women reached out, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

The doctor stayed for a while, explaining to you again and again what had happened. You’d been hit by a car. You’d hit your head. You’d been in a coma for the past 15 days. You’d been hit by a car. You’d hit your head. You’d been in a coma for the past 15 days. Over and over again, until it sunk in. 

She spoke to the two women before she left, again in a language you didn’t understand, the two glancing over at you with worried faces, the doctor’s face reassuring and kind. Once she was gone, the two women came over to your bedside. Tears brimmed in their eyes, but they were both trying to smile at you.

“Hola, mija,” one of the women said. She had blonde hair with dark roots and kind eyes, but she looked tired. 

“Do- do you remember me? Us?” the other woman asked, gesturing to herself and the blonde. Her hair was darker, and freckles were scattered across her nose and cheeks. Your eyes raked over her sharp jawbones, her angular face. Surely you would know if you’d met someone like her before.

You shook your head slowly. 

The brunette swallowed back a sob, the blonde holding her arm tightly. 

“It’s okay, that’s okay,” the blonde said. “The doctor said there was a high chance of this happening. That she wouldn’t remember us. It’s okay.”

“Who are you?” you asked, voice quiet.

“I’m Ona. I’m, uh, we play together,” the brunette told you, and the blonde looked at her sharply for just a second before looking back at you.

“And I’m Alexia. Your teammate and friend.”

Playing together? Teammate?

“Football!” you blurted out suddenly. You’re not sure how you knew, but you had this deep, innate sense that football is important to you. More than important, it’s your whole life. “I play football, right?”

The blonde, Alexia, let out a laugh of relief. “Si! You play football! We all play together, here in Barcelona.”

She squeezed Ona’s arm, who smiled tearfully. 

“So, I’m guessing we’re all pretty close, right? Surely there’s a reason you’re here,” you said bluntly, wincing at the pain in your head.

“We’re your best friends,” Ona said quickly, before Alexia could open her mouth.

“That’s… right,” Alexia said slowly. “I’m the capitana of our team, and we’re best friends. And you and Ona are also… best friends.”

You nodded, feeling exhausted suddenly. “Thank you both for being here, then. I think I’m going to sleep now, if that’s okay?”

“Of course!” Ona said, jumping up. “We’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”

You were asleep before the two had even left the room. Once they were in the hallway, the door to your private hospital room shut, Alexia turned to face Ona.

“What was that?” Alexia asked her, voice hushed, as though you’d be able to hear them through the door.

“What do you mean?” Ona shifted uncomfortably, not meeting the blonde’s eyes.

“Why did you tell her you’re just friends? Why didn’t you tell her that you’re dating?!”

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #8

The day Bruce Wayne knocks on her apartment door Sam knows it's going to be a doozy.

"Mr. Wayne, I really do hope no one saw you," she says, ushering him in. "And for the record, a text ahead of time would be appreciated."

"I parked the car a few streets away," Bruce says, sticking a finger in his heel to peel his polished leather shoes off. Sam raises an eyebrow. "It's a sedan, not a Lamborghini."

"You own a sedan?"

"Taught Dick to drive in it...after he crashed the Lamborghini."

Sam snorts despite herself. The charm Bruce Wayne exhibits would usually rub her the wrong way, too reminiscent of wealthy men that feel comfortable placing a hand on the small of your back at a crowded gala, but Bruce is honest enough about his playacting that she has come to find its insincerity comforting. She's actually sought him out more than once, leading to several annoying headlines that can't seem to decide if she's aiming to date him or one of his eligible sons. None of whom are eligible by the way, as they are a) taken, b) legally dead, c) practically a minor, and d) an actual minor.

Sam's generational wealth is peanuts compared to Wayne Industries, so naturally her parents have been thrilled and rooting for option c.

"I also didn't want Danny to see I'd texted you. Or force you to lie to him."

Sam doesn't quite tense, but it's a near thing. She does slide to the other side of her kitchen island, under the context of finishing prepping her feta fried eggs, laid on a bed of smashed avocado and warm tortilla. She pulls a bottle of crunchy garlic oil out of the fridge and drizzles hot red crisps across the runny yolk. She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully, not so much as offering him a glass of water.

"You realize, Mr. Wayne, I have no intention of lying to Danny now?"

Bruce sits at the stool on the opposite side of the island. "I understand. And if you want to ask Danny to return home before we continue, I'd understand that as well. I didn't mean to discomfit you--"

"Please do not lie to me now, Mr. Wayne," Sam says, rolling her eyes. "By your own admission you showed up at noon without warning knowing my superhero boyfriend wouldn't be present. If I am discomfited, all the more likely you get your information, right?" Golden yolk runs down her fingers, and she sacrifices it to the napkin rather than lick up her arm in front of her boss, with no small amount of resentment. The yolk is the best part.

"Get to it then," she demands.

Bruce straightens in his stool, chin raising and firming in a jawline she most often sees under a cowl. His eyes attempt to pin her in place, but Sam has stared the Master of Time in the face and demand he reschedule so she is built. different. She takes another bite of egg taco.

"I was not aiming for you to feel threatened, and moreover, I doubt you could be."

Except a smart person should always feel threatened by a threat, no matter their capability of handling one. It keeps them alive.

"Can you tell me how I'm not like all the other girls after lunch? You'll spoil my appetite."

Bruce clears his throat. "I'll get to the point--"

"Thank you."

"--Danny has been exhibiting paranormal behaviors beyond his baseline. We welcome all biologies; human, alien, and paranormal alike, but I have observed actions unlike what he had previously established as his, for lack of a better word, 'normal'

"I want to make sure he is not experiencing any unwelcome outside influence. Or, if this is merely a facet of his evolution, I'd like to know if this is something we or his family should be monitoring."

Sam has been an eco-consultant with Wayne Industries and unofficially, the Batfamily, for half a year now and this is the most she's ever heard the man speak in one sitting.

"Wow," she says. "How long have you been rehearsing that one?"

"A while." Bruce grunts, voice finally taking that final drop into Batman's gravelly rasp. "I see you're not surprised by any of this."

"No, not really," Sam says. She pours him a tall glass of lemon water from the pitcher, freshly sliced that morning, and he takes a polite sip.

"So what can you tell me?"

"Probably a lot. And Danny would probably prefer that I do, knowing him, the big baby," Sam sighs. "Listen Mr. Wayne, I can appreciate that you came here from a place of caution rather than intrusion. And if Danny was undergoing something negative or from an 'unwelcome outside influence' that would be the right call, and I, albeit begrudgingly, encourage you to do so in the future."

"But he's not."

"He's not," Sam confirms. "And in fact, I think he could really use someone to talk to about it. Outside of his family."

"I see..." Bruce says, shifting.

"If you want to tag team this one with one of the higher EQ players, such as Superman, I give you permission." Sam does not think she's imagining that slight sag of relief.

"Thank you," Bruce says, sliding off the stool. "I don't suppose you have material we could consult...?"

"Actually yes, I happen to have a pamphlet right here. 'So your ghostly body is changing, and how.'"

"You're being more sarcastic than usual."

"You interrupted my lunch, Mr. Wayne."

[ticklishfiend]

Figure Us Out (ATLA)

(lee!zuko /ler!aang and sokka)

A/N : i love atla rn. love zuko. if i encounter an awkward grumpy guy with a redemption arc in media, u bet ur ass i’m going to tickle him

Word Count : 3863

Summary : Zuko still feels like an outsider in their group. Aang and the others are gonna make sure he feels included!

hope u enjoy!!

—

“You’re such a liar!” Katara playfully punched Sokka in the arm, drawing a laugh out of him.

“I am not! That’s exactly how it went down, you’re just embarrassed that–”

“I’m not embarrassed–”

“Yeah, and you’re totally not red in the face either.”

“Sokka!”

This was…this was weird. 

Before meeting Sokka and Katara, Zuko really thought “being angry at your sibling” was a concept he understood better than anyone. He and Azula fought constantly back at home, it was pretty much just how they communicated with each other. Arguments aplenty, yelling and bickering by the dozen. 

But after spending the past few weeks with his new team (the word ‘friends’ still makes him bite his tongue), he’s realized there’s actually two different types of a sibling fight, and one of those types he’s never personally encountered before.

He’s used to spitting insults, deep personal cuts made against your biggest insecurities. Lies and manipulation hidden under sweet smiles so no one around suspects a thing. Most fights were like dances, using careful words and holding back just enough information to make your opponent second-guess themselves. And, of course, an argument was rarely ever had without literal flames thrown around to really drive it home.

But this? This was playful bickering around a campfire just to get under each other’s skin. Lighthearted teasing that showed how well they knew each other. There was love under each jab.

It was sorta weirding Zuko out.

He wasn’t uncomfortable by it, in fact probably the opposite. It made him feel closer to the group that he was included in moments like these. He liked getting to witness how normal siblings are supposed to interact, even if he knows he’ll never truly get to experience something like that himself. Zuko’s accepted his distance with Azula, and honestly it’d probably feel weirder if they did interact like this after everything they’ve gone through.

Honestly, he’s not sure why he feels weird. Maybe it’s because he’s just not as close to them all as they are to each other. Right now, Zuko’s just an awkward outsider that’s sorta-kinda trying to fit in, and fitting in with normal people has never exactly been his strong suit. He’s awkward and stiff and he knows it. And yet, they’ve been so open to him already. Sure, he had to prove he was over his whole ‘capture the avatar to avenge my honor’ phase, but now that he’s over that hump they’ve been super cool to him.

Zuko’s weirdly enjoyed getting to know this group’s dynamics with each other. He’s not entirely sure how he fits in yet, but that’s not even his biggest concern right now. Actually, his biggest concern right now might be that weird look Katara’s got on her face.

“Lying is pretty unbecoming of a warrior, dontcha think Suki?” Katara grinned over at Sokka’s girlfriend, who chuckled into his shoulder,

“Do not get me involved in…whatever this is.”

“Yeah, don’t drag her into this! She wasn’t even there!” Sokka argued very loudly, his usual bickering style. He gripped onto Suki’s arm with a pout, fluttering his eyelashes. “You believe me, right?”

Suki glanced at Katara behind Sokka’s back, and could clearly see her plotting something. Katara grinned like a loon before holding a finger up to her lips. Suki giggled, “Of course I believe you. How couldn’t I believe this face?” She pinched his cheek and Sokka hummed happily. Zuko took another spoonful of soup as he watched quietly, catching on that something was about to happen. He just didn’t know what.

Then, when Katara shoved her hands under Sokka’s arms, Zuko nearly spit his soup into the fire at Sokka’s resounding shriek. Sokka quickly fell into a fit of loud laughter, toppling over his log with Katara following after. 

“Admit you’re a liar!” She practically yelled over Sokka’s obnoxiously loud cackling. “Admit it!”

“AH! Ahaha no! You–You’re crahazy!” He sputtered out, shoving at Katara’s hands to no avail. 

Zuko felt weird watching this. He’s not unfamiliar with the concept of tickling, but he’s not exactly accustomed to it either. Especially not with family. Sure, Uncle had been known to tweak his sides every once in a while when they were out on their own together, but never anything like this. Zuko took to awkwardly staring into his soup, hoping he’d fade into the background like he usually did at dinner time. 

Unfortunately for him, tonight he was sitting next to Aang. Zuko felt an elbow nudge his rib, glancing over to the smiling Avatar. 

“Y’know, Sokka’s pretty well-known for exaggerating his stories like, a lot. Katara’s told this story before and he didn’t say a thing then. He definitely deserves this.” 

Zuko swallowed some soup. “That seems likely,” he said stiffly. Zuko could feel Aang’s eyes on him at the same time he heard the scuffle quiet down. 

“That was…” Sokka panted, “so uncalled for. Did you have to do that in front of Suki? And the fire prince?!” Sokka whined, his hands thrown over his face. 

“Hey, if anyone deserves to know how much of a liar you are, it’s gonna be your girlfriend and the new guy,” Katara said proudly, standing up to grab another log for the fire. Sokka grumbled, crossing his arms as Suki wrapped him in a sympathetic hug. 

Zuko decided not to acknowledge his mentioning, not sure if he should get involved in this. Apparently Aang felt otherwise.

“Did you and your sister ever play like that?”

Oh. Okay. So that’s what Aang was thinking about. 

The crackling of the fire seemed so much louder now that everyone had gone noticeably silent. Zuko found himself staring into it.

Katara shifted uncomfortably. “Aang, maybe we shouldn’t–” 

“No no, it’s okay,” Zuko sat his bowl down next to his log. “I understand having questions.”

Aang continued looking at him with those big eyes of his, but Zuko kept staring into the fire. Talking about family wasn’t always the easiest, but felt necessary in gaining more of their trust. They deserved to know this stuff. 

“My sister and I have never really been close. We’ve had our…moments. But play was rarely on the table,” Zuko said. “Not when we both had so much on the line.”

Aang pinched his lips together in thought. “So I’m guessing tickle fights were never on the table either, huh?”

Zuko huffed in amusement, finally peeking over at Aang. “No, not really.”

“Wait, so…” Sokka spoke up, curiosity mixed with something else glinting in his eye, clearly excited about changing the subject. “Do you even know if you’re ticklish?” 

Toph barked a laugh from her rock stool. “You’re just asking cause you’re tired of being the most ticklish in the group!” 

“Hey!” Sokka exclaimed angrily before fixing his face. “Look, first of all, I’m not the most ticklish. We all know that title belongs to Aang,” Sokka nodded towards Aang, who just grinned. “And secondly, being the one that gets ganged up on all the time gets a little unfair when I’m surrounded by frickin' benders, okay?!”

Everyone but Zuko chuckled at that, which brought Sokka’s attention back towards him. “Seriously though, fire prince. Ticklish or no?”

“Um…” Zuko cringed. “I mean, yeah I guess so. Er–Uncle poked me sometimes when we were on the run together, if that counts.”

“Did you not just hear Sokka begging for his life two seconds ago?” said Toph with a chuckle. “That definitely doesn’t count.”

Zuko really wasn’t sure what to say. He’s smart enough to know where this conversation seemed to be heading, and was really unsure how to feel about that. In a poor attempt to evade whatever this was, he pulled his knees to his chest and crossed his arms over them, leaving a spot to rest his head.

While Zuko might’ve been smart enough to sense the direction these questions were heading, Aang was smart enough to sense he didn’t really feel comfortable with it. Not yet at least. 

“Sokka, can you tell that story about the saber-tooth moose lion? I don’t think Zuko’s heard that one yet.”

Sokka gasped in excitement, his train of thought successfully derailed. “Foo Foo Cuddlypoops!”

—

The next day, Zuko had forgotten all about the attention he got last night. Sure, he thought about it some when he was trying to go to sleep that night. And sure, maybe he clutched onto his midsection a little tighter than usual as he dozed off, thinking about the loud laughter drawn out of Sokka from playful hands. It didn’t…it wasn’t like he was actually thinking about it. Not in any real way. It was just something interesting to ponder on. A sensation relatively foreign to him that would probably make him laugh like he didn’t often get to do so freely. And thinking about the fact that the rest of the group seemed curious if it would work on him was definitely…it was totally nothing, really.

So like–he’s forgotten all about it now. It’s a new day, and Zuko’s got work to do. 

He and Aang had been training their fire all morning, and it was finally time for lunch. Sokka had gone fishing earlier, so they all kept to doing their own thing while he cooked over the fire (a fire Aang had lit himself, by the way. Zuko felt a weird sense of pride that Aang was seriously getting the hang of this, and using it in a way he knew would make Uncle proud).

Zuko decided on meditation while he waited. He sat on the ground shirtless, honoring his Uncle as he let the sun warm his skin and settle the fire inside him. Meditation like this seemed impossible to him just a couple years ago, his impatience once too thin and his temper too fraught. But now, it came so much easier. Zuko could feel the sun working wonders in his body, keeping his fire at a healthy state while also giving him time to clear his full mind. It was truly relaxing.

Well, it was relaxing, until he felt a set of hands scribbling at the base of his spine. “GAAHA–!” Zuko was quickly jolted out of his zone with a yelp, arching his back away with flailing arms. 

“What the–?!” Zuko whipped his head around to find Toph giggling behind him on the ground. “Toph, what the heck?! Can’t you see I’m meditating!”

“Well duh, Sparky, that’s why I did it,” She wiggled her fingers in the air teasingly with a grin. “You never even saw it coming!”

Zuko couldn’t will the flush from his face. He felt so embarrassed, getting played by a 12 year old girl like that. Zuko groaned into his palm, “Whatever, just don’t do it again. Let me finish before–”

“Lunch is ready!” Sokka yelled across camp, using Suki’s fan to waft the smell towards his friends. Zuko groaned again, scowling at the girl who couldn’t even see him doing it. 

“Time to eat, Jumpy,” Toph snickered, getting up and following the smell. Zuko rolled his eyes before throwing his shirt back on and following behind.

For the next 10 minutes the group sat around the smoky logs no longer lit by fire, eating their food and sharing how their days have gone so far.

“Guys, Zuko showed me this really cool firebending trick earlier! I’ll show you once my stomach’s settled,” Aang said excitedly, taking a bite of the berries Katara had scavenged for him. 

“It’s actually a pretty complicated move. I was surprised you picked it up so quick,” Zuko said, feeling a little shy. He was finally warming up enough to talk without being addressed first during these meal times, and silently hoped he wouldn’t get called out on it.

“Well, that’s Aang for you,” Katara smiled towards the Avatar. “Actually, it sorta frustrated me when I first started teaching him waterbending. It took me ages to master those skills, and yet it took him no time at all.” She crossed her arms at him, teasing as if it still bothered her after all this time.

“Yeah, I get that,” said Zuko. “I guess it doesn’t bother me as much since I’ve already seen all the crazy stuff he can do with the other elements. It’s not exactly new for me to see him be so…” Zuko waved his hand in the air trying to find the word, but once he did he got a little embarrassed and decided against it. “Well, you know.”

“Nooo, c’mon, what were you gonna say!” Aang grinned beside him, poking his arm. “You were totally gonna say ‘amazing’ right?”

Zuko sported a little grin of his own, peeking an eye towards Aang. “Actually, I was gonna say annoying,” Zuko lied, almost chuckling at Aang’s gasp.

“Ohoh snap!” Sokka giggled, stuffing his face with more fish. “You just gonna take that, Aang?”

Toph suddenly let her stool drop to the ground, the loud bang catching everyone’s attention. “I know how you can get him back.”

Zuko froze, staring nervously her way. Aang caught the look he was giving, and was immediately intrigued.

“Oh yeah? How so?” Aang asked, before Toph leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made them both snicker.

Aang stood up with crossed arms, unable to stop smiling. “You know, I just remembered a certain conversation we had last night about a certain weakness of yours.” Zuko’s eyes widened, his gaze darting around each person to gauge their reactions. They were all smiling, and Zuko felt a nervous twitch at the corner of his own lips.

“Cmon, seriously? I know what you told him, Toph, and that was not what you think it was. You just…surprised me while I was concentrating,” Zuko defended, trying really hard not to smile right now.

“Yeah, tell that to the giggle you let slip,” Toph snickered.

Sokka caught on quickly with a chuckle. “Oh, buddy, you are so in for it now,” he tossed his last bite of fish into his mouth. “Take it from me, it’s best to just let it happen instead of running. If you run now, everybody’s gonna come after you.”

Zuko froze, darting his eyes back to Aang towering over him. The Avatar wiggled his fingers in the air, and Zuko knew what he had to do.

With a groan, Zuko took a deep breath, puffing his cheeks with air, and tensed his entire body. He pulled his arms close to his chest and clenched his eyes closed. He was gonna take it like a champ. A very awkward champ.

But instead of the tickle attack he had expected, he heard everyone around start laughing. He peeked one eye open and saw Aang doubled over holding his stomach through his giggles.

Katara snickered behind her hand, “For a former prince, you really can be such a dork sometimes!” Zuko blushed, untensing his body.

“Sokka told me not to run so–!” Zuko waved his arms around awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He sighed behind his hands, feeling warm in the face. “I really don’t get you people sometimes.”

Aang giggled, walking behind Zuko and plopping down. “It’s okay, you’ll figure us out eventually,” he said, before digging his fingers into the back of Zuko’s ribs. 

“AH! Ahaha–wait! Aang!” Zuko sputtered out a surprised giggle before pinching his lips closed, squirming and kicking his feet into the dirt. He giggled in his throat, trying hard not to let any sounds escape his lips. Somehow, this was even more embarrassing than Zuko thought it would be.

“Oh cmon, he’s trying to hold it in!” Toph complained, pointing at her ears, “I can’t exactly see your reactions, idiot, I’m gonna need to hear it.”

Zuko shook his head, but it was getting really hard to contain himself when Aang was doing that to his sides. He kept letting out little squeaks and growls, but he could feel his chest was filling with giggles and knew it would be no time before a real laugh leaked through.

“Get his armpits! That always kills you and Sokka,” Katara called out, getting an offended, “Hey, what’s this got to do with me?!” from Sokka.

Aang listened, tickling with so much concentration his tongue poked through his lips. He tried sticking his fingers under Zuko’s arms, but the prince kept them glued tight to his sides. Aang stopped with a chuckle, looking toward the siblings. “He won’t let me in there!”

“I can’t hehelp it!” Zuko complained, but didn’t move from his spot on the log. He panted, relieved for a break, but he could tell Aang wasn’t finished just yet.

“At least try to move your arms away. C’mon, I wanna hear you laugh!” Aang said, giving Zuko a poke to his lower back. When Zuko yelped and arched away, Aang snickered and tried again. And again. And again. Aang kept poking at his back like a typewriter, and Zuko let out the quickest set of giggles before standing up and backing away nervously.

“I–I cahan’t. I really–there’s no way–” Zuko shook his head, embarrassed but clearly having some fun himself. Everyone giggled at his reaction, amused by how ticklish and unable to take it he seemed to be.

“Wait, okay, now I want a turn,” Sokka stood up from his log and walked towards Zuko with wiggly fingers. Zuko shrinked away with a nervous chuckle, his arms wrapped around his midsection. 

“Noho way, this is ridiculous–”

“Oh cmoooon! I’ll let you get me back after!” Sokka locked his hands together to beg, “Pleeease Zuko?” He pouted and bat his eyelashes at the boy. Zuko just scoffed and rolled his eyes with a grin peeking at the corner of his lips.

“You are so stupid,” he grumbled. “That’s not gonna work on me. I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Maybe not, but I think I make a pretty good argument. I’m super fun to tickle, right guys?” Sokka looked around the room. Katara shrugged.

“Eh. You’re super loud. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Katara! Help me here!”

“Er–buuuut you do snort like a pig sometimes! That’s pretty funny,” she smiled toward Zuko, who just gave an incredulous look back. “I think you should do it. He’s pretty easy to fight back if you hate it.”

Zuko took a second to think it over. No one launched towards him, no one took him by surprise. Everyone just waited to see if he’d actually be okay with it.

Spirits. Sometimes it’s really annoying how nice this group can be. 

With a sigh, Zuko spread his arms out to the side, holding his head up high (but kept his eyes closed for good measure. It’s really embarrassing to look everyone in the eyes right now).

“Alright, yes!” Sokka clapped his hands together, making his way behind Zuko. “Okay, see how long you can keep your arms up for. Aang and I play this game all the time.”

Zuko expected the tickle to come right after, but…nothing happened. He waited a few seconds, and still, nothing. Finally he got frustrated, and peeked his eyes open to see Sokka’s hands floating just above his armpits. Seeing that freaked Zuko out way more than he expected, shooting his arms down with a yelp. Unfortunately for him, all that did was trap Sokka’s hands right where they wanted to be, and they immediately dug into his armpits like no tomorrow.

Zuko shrieked, curling up as much as he could while standing before crumbling into a fit of screechy cackles and giggles.

“Oh man, I wasn’t sure that trick would work on you!” Sokka giggled, his fingertips gently but efficiently digging into Zuko’s underarms with no plan on moving.

Zuko was in stitches. He wasn’t expecting this to be so unbearable, but spirits were his armpits ticklish. He could barely get a word out, pretty much babbling nonsense through his endless laughter.

“Ahaha! W-waahaha! It-It–-gggahaha nohoho!” Zuko cackled, squirming from side to side before crumbling to his knees in laughter. 

“Finally!” said Toph, punching Aang in the shoulder happily. “Took you softies long enough to get him actually laughing! If it was me tickling Sparky, he’d probably be in tears by now.”

“And that’s exactly why you aren’t allowed to tickle him,” Katara said, watching the scene with a smile. “Not yet at least. Clearly this is new to Zuko, we don’t wanna run him off when we just got him.”

“St-stahahaha! Ahaha guys!” Zuko rolled onto his back, his body overcome with giggles when Sokka started pinching lightly at his sides. 

“‘Guys?’ Don’t look at us, it’s Sokka you’ve gotta bargain with,” Toph teased, popping one of Aang’s berries into her mouth.

“Yeah! What do I get in return for stopping, huh?” Sokka said, pinching upward toward his lower ribs. That got a real good shriek out of Zuko, and everyone around couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I-! Gahaha, I dohohon’t–fffaahaha knohohow!” Zuko threw his head back as Sokka tickled all over his ribs, finally grabbing onto Sokka’s wrists and pulling him off. Sokka pulled back with no fight, only giving him another poke in the belly to hear Zuko yelp before sitting back and letting the boy collect himself.

Zuko panted, a stray giggle escaping him as he breathed. He clutched his stomach and threw a hand over his warm face, covering his eyes. He wasn’t sure how he was gonna look everyone in the eyes after that display. Oh spirits, what was he thinking? That was such a bad idea letting them take him out so easily like that. They’ll never take him seriously again, he’s supposed to be Aang’s teacher for pete’s sake, shoot this might be really bad, this might—

“Ohoho man that was awesome Zuko! You lasted way longer than I thought you would!” Aang giggled from above Zuko’s head. Zuko peeked his eyes out and saw Aang holding up a hand for him to high five.

Zuko couldn’t help the little giggle that slipped out at that. The Avatar is so…silly. He groaned and swatted Aang’s hand away, making everyone laugh. 

“After you get Sokka back, it’s my turn to play!” Aang straightened his back quickly, making the T-stance with his arms that Zuko held just a minute prior. “I bet I can last longer than you!”

“Pfff-” Toph laughed, slapping a hand on Aang’s shoulder. “Twinkle-toes, your record is currently four seconds without begging. You should probably start thinking your bets through before making them.”

“You can go ahead and have your turn. I’ll get Sokka when he least expects it,” Zuko grinned, sitting up and shooting his attacker a mischievous look. Sokka gulped with a nervous giggle, darting towards Aang to tickle him and change the subject away from himself.

“Ahaha wait! I wahasn’t ready!” Aang cried, immediately crumbling to the floor in a fit of childish shrieks and giggles.

Zuko watched on with a smile he couldn’t wipe from his face. These people were good. They worked with him at his pace. They understood things take time for him, and they’re okay with that. 

Zuko can tell they already see him as their friend. He’s starting to think he can see them in the same light.

-

thanks for reading! consider reblogging if u enjoyed hehe <3

[fbfh]

Hello, a request please, how does Leo react if he discovers that his girlfriend (reader) is a minor goddess, daughter of Poseidon and host (Percy goes into brother mode)

disclaimer that I haven't read the kane chronicles yet and don't feel like I really know enough to write about that so this will be more focused on the whole minor goddess thing bc I LOVE this ask.

You're a minor - and very new - goddess, so most people haven't even heard of you. Your dad is poseidon, and your mom is a sweetbay magnolia dryad, so your dad ended up entrusting you to watch over the coast, and everyone who lives there. Anywhere the water meets the land is your domain. It's a pretty niche job, but you have fun quietly tending to the plants and animals, all the little otters and beavers and water birds. you especially loved the long island sound near camp half blood. eventually you asked your dad if you could stay there, pretend to be a normal teenager for a while. he thought of your brothers, Percy and Tyson, and decided that was a good idea. So he talked to Chiron and sent you over, informing Percy he has another half sibling. Even though it was a little rough at first, you bonded with him so fast, turning into the dynamic brother sister duo you'd both always hoped for.

then you met Leo.

He fell first, and he definitely fell harder. Leo has been enamored with you, practically drooling over you since day 1. Of course this really didn't do much to fix the occasionally tense relationship between him and Leo - if anything it exaserbated it more. You never really outright told Percy what you are, he just sort of... pieced it together over time. You were a little scared to tell him. You were scared of how he'd react, that he'd be mad at you for lying or hate you for what the other gods have put him through. You can still remember sitting at the bottom of the lake with him, watching the sun set from underwater.

"Percy, I need to tell you something. I just- I don't want you to be mad at me."

that got his attention.

"It's about- um- it's about me... who I am. What I am." You'd continued, the horrible knot in your stomach eating away at you, getting bigger and bigger. your pulse raced and your hands shook. He looked over at you, but you kept your eyes firmly on the surface of the water, glowing coral and green in the fading light.

"I know what you are."

he had said it so surely, your heart sunk.

"You're my sister."

you looked over at him, and he knew that if you were on the surface there would be tears prickling in your eyes. You sputtered something and he cut you off, his new york accent getting stronger as he felt a surge of older brother protectiveness through him.

"you're my fuckin' sister." You looked at him and saw everything else he wasn't saying. you're my sister, and that's it. I don't care what else you are, because I'm your brother and you're my sister and that's all I care about.

Ever since then you'd started feeling a little more comfortable about your status as a god. you didn't hide the way certain birds and animals would flock to you, or how just being near the water made all surrounding plants flourish. and eventually, with percy's unspoken support, you decided to tell Leo. You've been going out with him for long enough where you already know most of each other's secrets, and you just feel like it's time. You're walking along the coast, your hand entwined with Leo's warm one as he plays with your fingers.

"Did I- uh, did I ever tell you about my mom?"

You hadn't, and Leo's intrigued. He knows about your dad - hell, he's even met him once. But you never mentioned your mom. You start telling him about her and he listens with rapt attention.

"She's great with plants, too. She's, uh... a dryad, actually. Lives in a sweetbay magnolia tree."

You're quiet for a moment, hoping he'll put two and two together. You see a million thoughts and realizations and emotions flash through him so fast you'd miss it if you blinked. Then finally, he nods.

"So you're..."

"Yup." You say softly. "In charge of the coast. Where land meets sea."

A frog hops over to you and you smile, bending down and scooping him up. He puffs up his throat proudly, and you pet him a little. Leo watches you as you two continue to walk leisurely. The sun hits the water and the trees, basking you in a glittering light and soft shade at the same time. And it makes sense, he thinks. this little strip of land full of plants and animals, where you get your ankles splashed by the tide and get sand between your toes... you look at home here. And you are. Leo realizes that every time you've taken him on one of your little walks like this, you've been inviting him into your world without him even realizing it. it fills him with a sense of warmth and awe and gratitude like nothing he's experienced before. and in that comfortable silence, you know he has your back. Besides, he's sure Percy would kick his ass if he didn't.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for snapping and scaring a kid?

Okay first, some background, I (F20) am a sorta bnf in a fandom I write and draw for and I am a group of roughly 10 other kinda bnfs who do the same and are all 20+.

We all reblog from each other and support each other, and one unique thing we also do is block minors who are open about being minors that we see anywhere and/or that interact with us.

We DM each other their usernames to weed them out of circle even though all of accounts are PG and do not have and dnis or warnings that minors will be blocked. We don't let anyone know we do this, make no posts about it, no warnings, they just get blocked without any exchange.

There's a few reasons why we do this:

to encourage kids to not let their age be publicly know.

to make sure kids are not getting normalized to interacting with strange adults online

kids, to put it kindly, are fucking lame once you become a certain age through no fault of their own. There's nothing in common after a while. They don't understand adult life and can't relate in the same way another adult can, and this is just no good reason for an unrelated strange adult online to let a kid interact with them that's sketchy and weird as shit

I grew up lurking and with strict internet safety lessons. Nowadays, kids seem to not know how to lurk and basic internet safety anymore. I've tried to make post upon post warning them of the dangers of putting personal information, especially their age, online, but it's done nothing to make the minors interacting to act more safely.

But me and my friend group have found that the only way to get kids to lurk and not put their age online like they should is if they get loose access the things they want because of their age is public.

So many of the kids who follow me have been blocked and they realized why they're getting blocked and came back on a much safer lurker account. I know I'm not the asshole for doing this and encouraging others to do this because ultimately it keeps the kid safer.

What I do think I may be the asshole is when one kid in particular, I'll call him X, spent months testing me to figure out and confirm that I was blocking minors who are open about their age and then spent weeks after that threatening to call me out and accused me of being agist, a pedophile because why am I so scared to interact with kids, and lying about being cis-queer because queers wouldn't discriminate like this.

At first he was was just the usual kiddo with his age in his bio, so I blocked him, and while I didn't notice it at first, he kept making more accounts with his age in the bio and following me. I caught on when I was curious about why do many 14 years olds were following me in a row because normally is varied from around 10 to 17, and I noticed similarities across the account and realized it was one kid desperately trying to following me.

I figured I just keep blocking until he figured out how to keep his age offline, and it seemed to work when I got followed by an identical account with the age missing from any posts and the bio. I let him keep following, not interacting because he's 14 and that'd be fucking weird, but then a week into following me on this new ageless account I got a DM.

It was full of screenshots of me blocking him on he openly a minor accounts and then him just accusing of what I said above. I blocked, not caring to respond to a 14 year old, but he keep making burners to DM more and more accusation.

I just kept blocking without responding, not wanting to waste my time, but then he treatened to call me out for being all those things. I've seen first hand how life ruining those accusation and false callouts can be, how people see those accusations and do no research and let their instinctual disgust and fear of those people drive the accused to going offline or even committing suicide.

I did not want this, and the fact that this may become a possibility due to a kid who just couldn't accept not everyone wants known minors following them, made me super pissed off.

And so to "scare him straight" and to prevent him from making this callout post, I photoshopped screenshots of both a police and cyperbulling report being submitted and police thanking me for reporting this and how they'll check it out.

At the time, still being super angry, it was very satisfying to see him come apologizing, saying he'll stop stalking me, and asking for me to tell the police and cyberbulling that it was a fake report and that it's been handled.

I didn't bother responding and just blocked him, and this time, he didn't make another burner. In fact, he deleted all his accounts.

A few months have past, and now that my anger has melted into annoyance, and that annoyance into realization I may have went too far.

X, while annoying, and could have really hurt me with a fake callout, is at the end of the day, 14, still a little kid.

X probably just didn't know better and I could have just tried to talk to him and reason rather then scaring him. I feel especially bad because if he was a POC and/or an abuse victim still living with his abusers he may have and possibility still be fearing for his life. Also it made me look like a bootlicker and I would kill myself before I ever support a cop

So I'm wondering now if I may have been the asshole here for snapping and scaring a kid

What are these acronyms?

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Awright I'm gonna get my take in on the current round of CJ discourse, because I do think I have a couple things to add! I'll be super clear upfront that I don't really care very strongly about Jack in any direction, he's a convenient character from Ed's past but that's about as far as I think about him.

So, Jack is the only character who we explicitly know has known Ed since he was very young, and the only one confirmed to be with him back in the Hornigold days. It's for this reason alone that I tend to take the information he tells us about Ed at face value - not because I think he's an honest character, but because he's the only window we're provided into that time of Ed's life. We can assume Jack also got into piracy young and he's been through the exact same grinder as Ed; this is one of the reasons that Ed takes it so hard when Stede kicks Jack off the ship. He feels like Jack and himself are the same genre of person - if Stede doesn't like Jack, then he'll realize soon he doesn't like Ed, either.

If he and Ed have had a sexual relationship in the past, I think that's so much more interesting than assuming Jack is lying. Ed and Jack very explicitly are not friends. Jack talks about his "dalliances" with Ed so dismissively. I think it's much more interesting to look at this with the takeaway that Ed's past sexual relationships have been emotionally unfulfilling and do not allow him to be vulnerable because that informs our understanding of Ed later (for example, that can be a fun wrinkle into how Ed brings up the satisfying, intimate sex he had with Stede during his panic in s2e7).

Another function Jack serves is he pushes the atmosphere on the Revenge closer to what it would be on a typical pirate ship. He's constantly making cracks at the crew failing to act like "real pirates," making Stede feel left out for not enjoying such rowdy, dangerous games. This is very useful because it cultivates an atmosphere designed to drive a wedge between Ed and Stede. For Ed, these games are nostalgic. When Jack makes him uncomfortable, it's quickly followed by Jack suggesting another game. When Ed tries to apologize for one of their activities hurting Stede's feelings, or when he tries to encourage Stede to join in, Jack is there to distract Ed and make him feel, in turn, that Stede isn't just rejecting the games, he's rejecting Ed.

It highlights one thing we know about Ed: he's very, very good at conforming to what's expected of him in any given situation. He can be a people pleaser, and he very obviously just wants Stede and Jack to get along and feels stuck in the middle. I'm not saying he doesn't hurt Stede in this episode, but I am saying that when Jack is creating an atmosphere that feels like a more "typical" pirate ship, and Ed leans into the behavior that he feels is expected of him, it leaves him easily confused and upset when Stede obviously isn't enjoying it. We see unusual lack of regard for others from Ed in this episode (like him shouting "that's what you fuckin' get!" at the Swede after the Swede gets hurt), and it stands out because it's not how Ed normally acts, only adding to the guilt Ed's going to feel that makes him leave with Jack.

Neither Ed nor Stede are trying to hurt each other in this episode. Ed is falling back on old behaviors, and when Stede says he doesn't like it, the fact that he still sees Jack as being so similar to him makes him take it as a personal rejection. I don't think Ed's intentionally trying to make Stede feel singled out or bullied, and it's not Stede's fault he's not enjoying what's going on, but Jack is a very, VERY good manipulator and he's set up the perfect situation to make both of them feel wrongfooted with each other. He's not just manipulating the two of them, he's orchestrating the entire vibe of the ship to make Stede feel left out and make Ed blame himself when things go too far.

[scificrows]

I am going over Murderbot's and ART's first interactions again and it's driving me crazy, so I really need to yell into the void about it.

Alright, so we have ART:

ART, a highly advanced deep space research vessel, who is very attached to its crew and seems to generally do what it's supposed to, especially when not doing so could endanger its mission - but ends up accepting a suspicious looking SecUnit that is lying about being a bot aboard itself. ART is evidently aware that it is directly breaking the rules in doing so. (Aside: How often does ART break the rules?) Why? All for that tempting media package that the SecUnit has to offer?

No.

It was sent off to do some work all alone and got bored and lonely. (I think there are different ways to intepret this, but looking at our super social raised-by-humans loving-its-crew never-shutting-up research vessel, I choose to think that is exactly what it was!)

Anyway, what does ART do now that it has this lying, potentially dangerous rogue SecUnit aboard? It

lets it know that it saw right through its lies and knows exactly what it is

intimidates and threatens it by showing off its own ridiculously extensive superiority (just to be on the safe side ofc)

gets bored after the SecUnit gets too scared to do anything interesting

asks the SecUnit to "stop sulking"

learns that the SecUnit has been through A Lot and seemingly understands how it made it feel and apologizes

gets bored again and starts lurking and harasses convinces the SecUnit to watch media about ships and their crews with it

[gets way too invested and agitated by the media, probably going through its first media-induced emotional crises (but gets through them with the support of the very patient SecUnit)]

tries to have a conversation with the SecUnit to get to know it better

gets offended that the SecUnit is not answering truthfully and won't share sensitive and very private information about itself

lets the SecUnit know it can see through its lies, calling it "inherently inferior" to itself and causing the SecUnit to sulkily shut down for four hours (lol)

immediately calls the SecUnit "unnecessarily childish" upon its awakening four hours later (referring to its own extensive experience with children to really get the point across)

And apparently all of this seemed to be a perfectly pleasant and normal interaction to ART, because:

That's how you make friends, isn't it?!

God, I love ART so so so much and this is SO funny to me! To be fair, I don't think anyone ever really prepared it for an interaction like this. (Probably because its crew did not expect it to pick up a stray rogue SecUnit and try to befriend it).

Bonus:

[mimi-cee-genshin]

Flowers and Canes - Neuvillette x f!reader

Summary: It had initially taken some time for you to be integrated into Palais Mermoria, but it's been much livelier with you around. You even try to occasionally make Neuvillette laugh. As a result, the Chief Justice doesn't mind indulging in your requests every so often.

Other info: humor, fluff, pre-relationship, subtle crushes, dialogue heavy, female reader, disabled character, 1.7k words

*****

"Monsieur Neuvillette," said the man at the door of his office. "Here's the information about the recent theft at the–"

"Oh oh! Give it to me!" you waved him down from the couch. "I'll handle it for him."

Neuvillette was reviewing a different document when he raised his eyes to see the man waiting for his permission to give it to you.

"Ah, yes," Neuvillette said after clearing his throat. "She works here. You can hand it to her."

You ripped the envelope open once you got your hands on it and Jocelyne leaned onto your arm to take a peek at the document as well. Her short legs swung off the edge of the couch just like any other Melusine's would.

"What?" you exclaimed, narrowing your eyes at the letter.

"Huh? What's the matter?" Jocelyne asked. "And why are you squinting?"

"Sir, what is your name again?" you asked the messenger. "I don't quite recognize your voice."

"My apologies. My name is Clément," he said. "I'm new here."

"Oh. Well then, Monsieur Clément. It seems that you have given me the wrong paper."

"What?"

Neuvillette could tell from your voice that you were lying. He picked up his glass for a drink. Your pranks were nothing new to him.

"This looks like a prescription for some stool softeners," you said.

"What?" Clément panicked. "How did that get there?"

Neuvillette coughed up his water.

"Did you hear that, Jocelyne?" you exclaimed. "Neuvillette laughed just now!"

"Stop with your antics already," Jocelyne said, crossing her arms. "It's rude to make Neuvillette laugh at other people's expense."

You held up the document. "But is this really a prescription–"

Jocelyne snatched the paper from you. "Thank you, Monsieur Clément," she said politely. "This is the correct document. We will ensure the record will be updated and organized."

"Oh, I see," said Clément with a hand on his chin. "So this was an attempt to make the Chief Justice smile today? Laugh even?"

"Of course!" you said.

"In that case, you can poke fun at me as much as you want."

"Excuse me?" asked Jocelyne.

"It's a rare sight to see the Chief Justice laugh," he reasoned.

"See, Jocelyne," you said. "He gets it!"

She only sighed in exasperation. It really was a spectacle for others to see him laugh. They were in Fontaine where even trials were forms of entertainment after all.

"Hmmm… but now that I think about it, aren't you one of the typewriters?" Clément asked you. "Shouldn't you be able to read the document?"

"Pshhh. Of course I can," you laughed off. "What are you talking about?"

Jocelyne merely groaned. "I'll go ahead and run it through the Embosser for you."

"Nooooo," you whined, clinging onto her arm and preventing her from leaving. "Don't give me more work to do. Just read it out loud to me like you normally do."

"Hmph. Maybe if you paid more attention to my instructions, I'd be more privy to your requests," she scolded you.

"Alright," Neuvillette cut the conversation short, his voice filling the room. "I think it's about time to resume with your duties, am I correct?"

"Ah," you said bashfully. "Yes, Monsieur Neuvillette."

Clément did a brief bow before leaving, but Jocelyne was halfway to the doors when she noticed you didn't follow her.

"May I stay for a moment?" you asked Neuvillette. "I would like to make a request."

"In that case," said Jocelyne. "I'll stay here in case you can't find your seat–"

"In private," you said through your teeth with a smile. "And you know very well I can find my desk myself, Jocelyne."

"But I wanted to see what he thinks too."

"In private."

"Okay, okay. I'm going," Jocelyne said before leaving the room and closing the door.

The room went near silent with only the ticking of the clock to be heard.

"Alright then," said Neuvillette. "What is your request?"

You stood up, taking your white cane to see where his desk was, and then gave him a large grin.

"What do you think of my dress today?" you asked him.

"It looks nice," he said politely.

"No, no," you replied. "Not like that. Tell me as if you're describing the water you drank earlier."

"Hmm… In that case..." He took a moment to ponder. "I think it's an exquisite shade of violet. But with the hint of red, it's similar to an Agyllis when the sun sets by the waters."

"Oh! That flower? I love how they smell," you told him. "It's not too strong, but there's also a sharpness to it that I can't quite figure out." You smiled and lifted the ruffles of your dress. "So do I look cute today?"

"Indeed. Your dress is pleasant on the eyes."

"Yes!!!" you cheered. "Jocelyne finally picked out something good. And the fabric is so comfortable and lightweight. If I were to be in the sun –not that I would, of course– I'd imagine it wouldn't feel too hot."

"I'm glad you've found something suitable to wear," he said.

You laughed at him. "Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette. When you say it like that, I'd think all my outfits were as horrendous as yesterday's."

He gathered the papers on his desk and neatly placed them to the side. "To be honest, I was rather surprised you allowed Jocelyne another chance," he noted. "The pink was blinding to the eyes and the brownish yellow was a disgusting color. It reminded me of a fried dish one of your co-workers had given me. I doubt that dress would've been considered appealing here in the Court of Fontaine."

"Well, I didn't want her to give up so easily," you said with a soft smile. "It takes a lot of practice and I wanted to encourage her to get better. I mean, my typing used to be incredibly slow because I was afraid of making mistakes. But I'm glad I learned. It has helped lighten your burden as well, right?"

"Indeed. You have my thanks."

You had been working for Neuvillette for quite a few years now. The mood was livelier with you around despite Jocelyne having to put up with your antics. In reality, he found your harmless pranks intriguing. Your smile and the rising of your voice would reveal when you were joking, and he wondered if it was a common practice among other humans. Not all of course. Clément wasn't able to tell.

It had taken some adjustments when you first came to work at Palais Mermonia. Your co-workers weren't sure how to interact with you because they hadn't met anyone like you before. But with some accommodations and your modified typewriter at hand, you worked harder than anyone and became an irreplaceable part of the team.

Neuvillette smiled to himself.

"So what was your request?" he asked you.

"Ah." You snapped out of your daze. You must have been enjoying the sound of Neuvillette's clock again. "Would you like to start a garden with me?"

"A garden?"

"Well... maybe a garden isn't the right word if it's indoors with not a lot of sunlight," you said. "We don't want my head to hurt, nor do I want you to accuse me of an assassination attempt…"

"That was one off-handed joke," he sighed. "Must you keep bringing that up?"

You let out a light and delightful laugh.

"Anyway," you continued. "I've been asking around if there are any flowers or plants that require little light and it seems quite a few exist. Would you like to help me?"

Neuvillette placed a hand on his chin. "I don't quite understand. Is there a reason why Jocelyne is unable to lend you a hand?"

"She strongly refuses to help me."

"That's odd. I've heard she enjoys–"

"She strongly refuses to help me."

"Ah… Is that so…" he said, taken aback by your insistence.

It seemed there had been a concerted effort by some of the Melusines to get him to try new activities, specifically ones you'd be able to enjoy. Despite Jocelyne's sharp tone at times, she genuinely did care for you. Before you came along, she wasn't quite sure how to integrate herself among the humans. She truly found a place where she was needed when she was by your side.

"... and it'll obviously be outside of work hours," you continued to ramble, "but you don't have to do it if you don't want to. You're already too busy and there's the case from yesterday, the case from today, and probably a case for tomorrow, so I don't want to pressure you or anything or make any more work for you but…"

"I'll help you."

"...I just thought it'd be nice, and only wanted to offer a suggestion– What???"

"I accepted your request."

You dropped your cane. "Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette! I'm so happy that I–"

"Really????" The doors burst open, revealing a gaping Jocelyne.

"Were you eavesdropping?" you asked her.

"No, I wasn't," she denied. "It's just that Melusines sometimes have a heightened sense of hearing and–"

"But yesterday, you said you couldn't hear me."

"Monsieur Neuvillette," Jocelyne said, ignoring you. "I promise to make sure things with the two of you will go smoothly."

"Ahemmmmm."

"With the gardening," she clarified. "The gardening…"

You shooed her away and Jocelyne promptly closed the doors.

"Well... since you've answered my request, could you help me return to my desk?" you asked Neuvillette with a sweet smile.

"We could ask Jocelyne to return and–"

You held out your elbow towards him while your white cane laid on the floor next to your feet.

"Alright," he said, getting up and picking up your cane. "I shall escort you back to your desk."

As the Chief Justice of Fontaine, this would have typically been seen as special treatment to the rest of the population. Yet, he would indulge just for today. Nobody would fault him for helping a lady who was legally blind.

You wrapped your hand around his arm and he guided you back to your desk with you right by his side.

Yes, nobody would fault him for helping a lady like you.

*****

I hope you liked it. Please check out my other fics if you'd like. :) I have a few other cute and funny ones in my masterlist. (Also, disclaimer: I'm not an expert about being legally blind. I just wanted to try writing for a different kind of reader.)

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Since Viv still somehow cannot decide on what Angel overdosed on. I am taking my liberties and doing it my goddamn self. I will also be formatting this into a summary of what I think a good small backstory scene could be like while also giving Angel a safespace and bonding experience.

It’s in the tags but WARNING there is discussion of drug abuse and overdosing in this summary.

Urg, okay, Vague but also kind of not vague angel backstory stuff because ig viv cant make up her mind on her own OCs backstory

Angel is lying in bed with Husk sitting at the edge as per usual, and Angel starts talking about a few mild personal things (mental struggles, work, general issues, etc) and Husk suggests taking something mild to help him relax and sleep so he gets up and gets him a few pills and puts them in Angel’s hand; says its Benadryl just to help him sleep a bit, but notices quickly that Angel is suspiciously reluctant to take or even look at the pills. Obviously, he asks what's up and is met with the answer of, “Nothin’ I just don’t… use that stuff.” It piques Husk’s interest, and asks if it doesn’t work for Angel, who responds with, “It definitely works.” but ultimately, Husk decides not to pry; however, he lets Angel know he’s open to listen if it’s something he feels like he wants to talk about.

Angel, being weirdly stubborn but also becoming a bit more open with Husk by this time, takes a few minutes to actually say something but eventually informs Husk that it was something he used to try and get high off and had some really good and really bad trips with, but it was the drug that ultimately led to him suffering an overdose and never waking up after it. Both of them are quiet for a bit until Husk gets up and searches for something else to help Angel sleep and, once again, places a few small pills in his hand and says he can try these, but if not, he can try something else without pills. Angel is still reluctant but ends up accepting the offer and proceeds to carefully assort the pills into little categories, saying it’s something he ‘needs to do’. Husk doesn’t push further than that and watches Angel take the pills before the other lays down again.

Things once again go silent for a good ten or so minutes until Husk notices Angel uncomfortably folding his hands over his stomach but mentions that pills always make him feel queasy to an extent and that he only takes them with other people around so he’s distracted from the discomfort they give him. In an attempt to calm Angel’s apparent nerves on the topic, he decides to sit with the other until Angel falls asleep. Eventually, Husk follows suit, with both of them waking up the next morning and Angel giving a relieved and grateful, albeit shaky, sigh. The next morning consists of Angel thanking Husk but ends with the two coming to an agreement that next time Angel can't sleep, a liquid medication approach would be better.

I don’t know if I’ll ever do a full fledged writing of this, but the concept of triggers is something I’ve personally yet to see stated in Hazbin Hotel. This would be a good way to discuss clear lingering trauma Angel has while still treating it with the gentleness the character needs and severity the topic needs. Benadryl was also just becoming a thing around the 1940’s so it makes sense for this to be something Angel very likely could’ve overdosed on. The topic of common triggers is something interesting too; I’ve seen that in other media obviously but even though I know we won’t get it, it’d be nice to see the caution around said trigger and very slowly seeing the character become more open to it if it is a common thing like this. Not everyone will get over triggers and I myself also used to have a strained relationship with a certain pill like this, but there is always the chance that you will be able to use it somewhat normally again.

If this were to happen I’d be fine with it if Angel never got over the discomfort of pills, but much later on in the series if we saw him take some kind of antihistamine casually and comfortably it’d be really nice to see that kind of growth. And as for Husk, I’d like to see him be less shame-y with Angel’s struggles like he was in Episode 6. Since we’ve basically lost Cherri Bomb as his safespace from external stressors, I really think Angel will benefit from an actually deeply caring friend, especially one that doesn’t overstep his boundaries and doesn’t encourage self destructive behaviour. The same goes for Angel by the way, I’m really pissed that they didn’t have Angel apologise for harassing Husk and everyone else. It really is not that hard to at least try to have him feel sorry about that sort of thing. Fuck, here’s something I wrote in like 20 minutes.

——————

It’d be really nice to have someone to talk to, honestly, even though he didn’t speak to Husk very much at all prior to this; he was looking forward to it a little more now. Coming home… er… coming back to the hotel after work and chatting casually at a bar was just… something about it sounded so… calm. Sure, he could go to a random bar and flirt with some rando, but talking with an actual acquaintance while having a few drinks seemed so freeing. Not having to worry about someone staring at him from across the room and getting approached about some kind of ‘offer’ outside.

God, he fucking hated that... “Fuck…” Soft smile melding into a grimace, Angel began to chew slower and slower until he eventually stopped altogether and harshly swallowed. He’d probably been making Husk feel gross like that for ages now. Obviously, he’d seen the disgruntled faces he’d get in return for flirting, but he’d never actually thought about it like that until now. He couldn’t even say, ‘for some reason, it made him feel gross’; he knew exactly why; coming to terms with that, on the other hand, was a lot more uncomfortable than he’d imagined. “Hey, uh… Not to damper the mood, but… I…”His chest puffed as he took a deep breath, and each word pulled Angel to avert his gaze further from his food and the cat sitting across from him. “I was gonna say… I’m sorry for bein’ weird and touchin’ your face yesterday…” As he spoke up, his voice lightly cracked near the end of his sentence. “And when we were filmin’ the hotel commercial… And every time I’ve put my legs on ya lap… And any otha time I did somethin’ like that.”

——————

I haven’t even finished this writing yet (I’ll likely add the rest when I do finish it) but you can see that it genuinely is not that hard to fit in an apology.

Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed my little Angel Dust ideas. Be prepared for more eventually

[yorshie]

Hi there 😊 I saw ur request opened and wanted to see if I could request reader having a nightmare and they call the turtles (or one of them) in the middle of the night bc they’re too panicked and they try to help calm them down maybe over the phone or go to their place to help! Sorry for the long ask haha Thank you!!

Hello Nonnie! I'm finally (slowly. so painfully slowly) cleaning out my ask box and replying lol. I went with Leo for this one, simply because when I started writing his name just kinda popped up naturally.

Bayverse Leonardo x GN Reader, SFW

The whir of the ceiling fan woke you up. 

It was usually a comforting sound, but now, with the press of adrenaline against your chest and the echoes of the dream clinging to your skin like a fine sheen of oil, the creak of the paddles spinning overhead read as a threat to your muddled mind. 

You pulled the covers back, feet finding the cold floor and bringing a new shiver that informed you of the layer of sweat behind your knees, at your elbows, making your shirt stick to your spine in crinkly ridges where you’d tossed through the dream. Your heartbeat pounded at your temples, your jaw, relentless as it told you you had to run, had to hide, had to go.

The clock on your bedside table read 3:14 am. Too early to get up, to eat food to soothe the latent fear still in your stomach. But superstition had you moving, padding into the kitchen to pull a tortilla from the package left on the counter. You rolled the piece of bread up and shoved it halfway into your mouth, stopping at the bathroom on your way back to the warmth of the bed. 

The reflection greeting you over the mirror after you did your business looked sane, looked normal. Nothing to indicate the nightmare still haunted you, still peered over your shoulder, just waiting for you to fall back to sleep. You didn’t feel the phantom clawed hands reaching for your shoulders until your back hit the mattress, tortilla still shoved in one cheek, and the spinning ceiling fan was there once more to greet you.

You squinted, watching the paddles in the low light from the window. The dream was starting to fade, but it lingered like the curling, tacky edges of the vinyl tabletops in an old diner. Waiting to leave just a little residual glue on your skin, to follow you around.

You glanced at the clock again, contemplated staying up until the sun rose and could blanket out the hushed magic of the early morning, when your eyes snagged on your phone, lying crooked and part way in the opened drawer where it usually charged.

Your fingers found the familiar edges, pulled it across the bed towards you. There was a new message, from Blue, about thirty minutes ago. The notification extended a lifeline, a buoy to hold onto while the frigid waters of the dream still lapped at your consciousness.

Your thumb tapped the screen, slid open the message. 

He was home from patrol, wanted to let you know everything was fine, that he and his brothers had gotten home safe. The balloon of unnamed fear deflated just a touch in your chest, the unknown fear in the heartbeat at your temples tripping up in its terror before lessening just a touch. Like a ship sighted in a storm, you stared at the little blue heart attached to the last message, a wish for you to sleep well.

Without thinking, you hit the call button, bringing the device to the cradle of your ear and shoulder. The rings stretched out in front of you, one after another. You could almost imagine the boat getting further away, the line of safety attached to the buoy growing taunt…

“Hello?” Leo’s voice, soft and questioning on your name, like a light cascading from the boat, finding you immediately in the dark. His voice was a halo of safety as the captain turned the rudder and you were pulled in.

“Leo?” You confirmed, childishly, knowing his voice, but needing the confirmation to yourself as much as to let him know you were there. “Sorry, I uh, saw your message… had a bit of a nightmare, wanted to talk to you if that’s ok?”

And because it was Leo, because he never really stopped worrying,  he answered immediately, tone dipping a bit as he used the voice that meant he was processing intel. “Of course, are you ok? Do you need to talk about it?”

The concern, him using the ‘leader’ voice on you, brought a reflexive smile to your face. If you asked him, he’d be there in ten minutes, you knew, regardless if he was technically supposed to or not. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I promise. I just… needed to hear your voice.”

Leo exhaled, the sound a little staticy over the line, and you could almost picture the relief sliding the concern off his shoulders. “Do you need me to come to you?”

Heart in your throat, you let yourself have the imagined fantasy. His shadow at your window, his scales pressed up against your skin, entangled in the too small bed with you. His hands running through your hair, simply existing for a moment. 

But with that fantasy came the little bubble of reality. The way he’d watch the horizon, the gaps between the buildings outside your window for the first flicker of light. Always on a timetable, like Cinderella and her pumpkin coach, on the lookout for the danger of traveling back to the Lair with the sun always encroaching.

Reeling in the selfish desire, you spoke low, just for him. “No, I’m ok, it’s almost four already.” You rolled the tortilla to the other cheek, took another bite.

Leo must have heard the sound, because he chuckled softly. “Do you have a tortilla stuffed in your mouth right now?”

“Grandma’s superstition wearing off on me, I’m afraid.” You told him, honest, not fearing judgment from the turtle you’d gladly call your best friend.

“I like her recipe you made last summer, with the peppers and cheese.” He admitted, and you heard his words echo just a touch when he placed you on speaker, followed by the rustle of clothes and a long sigh. You knew what he was doing, getting ready for bed, likely folding his pants. You could close your eyes and imagine yourself there with him, beside him in his bed, maybe back against his headboard while he laid on his plastron, one arm hooked around your waist and a pillow half over your lap for his head…

“I’ll make it for you again this weekend, if you’d like.” You offered, letting the imagined scenarios soothe you, letting the lull of Leonardo wash away the tacky residue of the dream. You breathed in deeply, listening to him hum low on the other end of the phone. 

“Deal.” Leo agreed, and you just knew he was smiling in the dark of his room. Maybe that little dimple at the corner of his mouth was showing, maybe…

“Are you falling asleep on me?” He asked, voice soft, so soft. 

You murmured dissent, but he still chuckled, breath hitting the receiver once more in a familiar way. “Take the tortilla out of your mouth at least, darling. Text me when you wake up, alright?”

You murmured agreement, swallowing the last bite of gummy flatbread thickly. The waves rocked you gently, a tide of Leo’s even breaths in your ear, the mantra of his lungs working as a leading drum for your heartbeat to slow to. 

Before you dropped off, comforted in the buoy of your mind tied to safety, Leonardo murmured over the phone, “Love you, sweetheart. Goodnight.”