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stevieschrodinger · 7 months

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Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU

Link to Part Two

Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.

So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.

Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"

Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.

To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.

"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."

Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.

"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."

"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"

And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"

It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"

"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"

"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."

"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."

"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"

Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.

It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"

"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."

But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.

There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"

"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"

And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.

"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.

Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"

Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"

Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.

And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.

Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"

"Shhhhhhhh!"

Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-

"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"

Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.

The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."

"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."

"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"

Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."

#eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #baking #baker steve Harrington #rock star eddie munson #wrong number au #fan fic author #my fic writing #fan fic stuff #fan fiction

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arminsumi · 6 months

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First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?

Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!

LET ME MARRY YOU

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything

Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.

What if something happens to you?

He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.

There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.

That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;

I want to marry you.

I'm going to marry you.

Please let me be your husband one day.

As if he's trying to manifest it.

Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.

It's October 11th.

Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.

He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.

He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.

He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.

He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.

But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.

He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.

Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.

Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.

The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.

"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.

He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.

His earthly goddess.

The purpose of his benevolent actions.

He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.

It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.

Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."

He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.

It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.

"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"

"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.

It's a stark bright day.

Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.

You open it.

He looks at you, and you look at him.

"Hi."

"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"

Your voice fills his heart with life.

"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."

"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."

Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.

There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.

"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.

"I'll always find my way home."

A silence ensues after he says this.

"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."

"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."

"... me too."

"... why did you leave?"

He stares at you.

"... I was scared of you being in danger."

He gulps.

"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."

Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...

"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."

"... yeah, duh."

He smiles meekly.

It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.

He hesitates. He contemplates.

"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.

Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.

But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.

Let him just...

"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."

"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"

"Can I?"

"... what?"

"Can I please?"

"... huh??"

"Can I marry you, please?"

He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.

Can he? Will you let him?

It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.

"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.

He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."

"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."

You make him laugh. "Yeah..."

"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"

"No."

"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."

You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.

"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."

"You're damn right..."

"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."

"Satoru."

"Yes?"

His heart throbs. He looks at you.

"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."

"Oh."

You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.

So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.

"I'm sorry."

Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.

"My angel..."

When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.

He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.

Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.

Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.

"...Satoru?"

"Marry me."

You chuckle again.

"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.

He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.

"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."

On the verge of saying your name.

He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.

"Will you think about it?"

"I will."

There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.

"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."

"That took you, like, ten seconds."

You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"

He's silent.

"I have no idea."

"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.

His heart flutters at 'future husband'.

"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."

The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.

In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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righteousinadversity · 11 months

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I don't think any protagonist can ever top Wei 'Yiling Laozu' Wuxian. No one is doing it like him. He is an icon. He can shoot arrows blindfolded. He is a prankster. He falls for a boy and decides immediately that he must have said boy's attention on him at all time. He is necromancer exacting his vengeance. He is just three years old. He is a flirt. He has his first kiss in his twenties. He does not remember your name. He does remember that one song his crush sang to him in a cave when he was injured and feverish. He is a sunshine boy. He survived the hell of hells. He died and was unhappily brought back to life. He's the bizarre genius, the miraculous hero, the force of the rebellion, the flower that blooms alone. He walks the single plank bridge alone. He is the awesome gay uncle who knows everything. He is a pretty boy. He is the most moral, steadfast person you know. He is just a man throwing flowers to his love. He rips his hard won talent out to repay a debt that never was. He is a sister's boy. He is an abuse survivor. He is an urban legend. He is one of the most handsome men of his time. He has so much trauma. He plants children like radishes. He threw the arrow he was shot with from a rooftop and killed someone. He is a talented musician. He is a scheming fox. He can drink you under the table. He is so fucking tired of this bullshit. He has probably long since burned his tastebuds with the spice he puts in his food. He is broke. He kisses skeletons on their hands in gratitude. He confesses his deep, abiding love in the middle of being held hostage. He attempts the impossible and succeeds. He is an untamed hero, standing against a world condemning the innocent. He is everything.

#wei wuxian #mdzs #*me appearing out of nowhere after eight months with starbucks*#writing this I know I have probably missed many things #so feel free to add on to this #Also me just copying JC's entire spiel in the BM right onto this

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cryptotheism · 1 year

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She awoke to a boxcar full of corpses,

which was damn lucky, because it meant she now had a one-way train ticket to exactly where she wanted to go. All that was left to do was pass the time.

The student took inventory of her body. It was the first thing she knew to do in case of catastrophic injury, but the ritual of it was almost meditative now. Start at the bottom, work your way up.

Feet: Sore from walking. The leathery sheathe of mutagenic skin that ran up to her shins was largely unfeeling scar tissue at this point. They looked and functioned like a pair of high-topped hiking boots, except permanent and a part of her body. They were a rough custom job, designed for traversing the pools of acid that dotted the necrotic swamps common to her homeland. Home. Not much left of home now. She was getting sidetracked.

Legs: Also sore from walking, but less so. The musculature was hers, but the skeleton was reinforced with carbon-steel after a fall when she was little. Shock absorbing hydraulic femurs were nice for someone who did as much walking as she did. Skin was necrotizing again. Gotta get that replaced. Maybe one of the corpses is fresh enough to provide a graft.

Pelvis: Mercifully unfeeling. The surveyor had grabbed her by the hips. Skeleton was completely replaced a long time ago, but she could feel a hitch in the joint of her left leg whenever she moved it just so. An easy fix but time consuming, and not the sort of work to be done on a moving train. No necrotization here, at this point it was all synthetic. Uterus was completely original, not that it meant much. The little bundle of braided tubes that assisted her endocrine system remained stapled to her skin. The jangling was annoying, kept getting stuck on her hatchet, thus, staples. Fluids were looking a little dark, she must be dehydrated.

Torso: Felt fine, aside from the strain on her spine from carrying her things. Even with the augments, spines in general were just poorly constructed. Flesh was scarred, lots of burns, but mostly original. Both clavicles were removed and replaced with cargo sockets. She rolled her shoulders, it seemed like everything was working well. Breasts and sternum had been removed too, replaced with subdermal bulletproofing. She had spent extra for the good stuff there. One solid hand-ground piece of sloped armor. Getting shot in the lung was a lesson you only needed to learn once. Heart was completely mechanical. She even had a backup in her bag just in case. She traded the old lung and the breast tissue for that.

Right Arm: She rolled back the sleeve of her heavy coat and stretched her arm, watching the little electric motors dance. It was strong and dexterous, with half a dozen small tools built into the length of her forearm. No need for skin. In a pinch she could perform everything from network intrusion to basic surgery. Most of it was covered by the sleeve of her heavy coat. The amputation was above the elbow. She had leased her original arm for the current mechanical one when she was working on the pit crew for for an order of knights. She ended up keeping the arm.

Left Arm: She liked her left arm. She was proud of it. The trademark of a sythetimancer. It was pretty. Biological and mechanical features blending seamlessly together. Coils of veins and circuitry making intricate braids up her arm terminating in perfect Fibonacci spirals. Softly bioluminescent blood, filaments formed from calcified nerve tissue, synapse clusters under crystal clear de-pigmented bulbs of alpha-keratin. She concentrated for a moment, allowing the whirls on her palm to twist and readjust themselves with a tingling sensation. Carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, all recombining into butane. She snapped her fingers, igniting a tiny flame, letting it dance along her fingers for a few moments burning and repairing the flesh as she went, spirals parting and coalescing like leaves navigating the twain of a gentle river. They looked like the little shell fossils she found at the white desert when she was little. Memories. Loss.

The spirals in her hand began to twist and pulse, little corkscrews of bone began to form, growing outwards against the thin layer of biosynthetic skin. It hurt. She winced, and regained control a moment later. Careless. She shook her arm, and the flame on her finger went out.

Head: Still a bit hazy from the pain. Where to start with the head? Neck. Parched. Currently being warmed by a scarf with a length of handmade maille hidden in the folds. Rebreather was working well because it was made well. It was made well because she made it. She made it because it used to be her job. Like everyone of her strain, she had no teeth, only two solid ridges of tough bone, largely blunt and made for gnashing but gradually coalescing into a single triangular point, evolved for ripping flesh. She clacked her jaws together experimentally. Clack. Clack.

Eyes were tired and dry. There was a short mechanical hiss and a snap as she the shields over her eyes retracted back into their sockets in her cheekbones. The only light was from a pair of grates in the ceiling, but the glare nearly blinded her. She snapped the shields back into place, and the heads up display came slowly back into focus.

Originally her skin was the sort of rust color common to her strain. By now it was a deep weather-worn red, except for the parts that were charred black and rotting. Gotta replace that. If she could grow hair, she had done a damn good job of making sure it was thoroughly singed off. It occurred to her that it might be fun to have hair one day. Maybe she could make it herself. Would it grow in spirals? She looked down to open the bag of genebending tools at her waist, and her heart jumped into her goddamn throat.

Staring up at her from the pile of corpses was a pair of bright red eyes on an unnaturally pale face with no nose or lips. Which would not be terribly upsetting or surprising, had it not just said “well met” in an oddly pleasant female voice, attempt to sit up, fail, and then ask politely if its new acquaintance would stop sitting on it.

This is the first chapter of Amber Skies. The complete story can be read here, along with its currently-in-progress sequel, Emerald Seas.

#Amber Skies #Emerald Seas

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little-pondhead · 9 months

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DP x DC Prompt

…

There are no more heroes.

Well, okay. Rewind a bit.

Danny has been doing the hero thing for a while now. He’s had a big reveal; everyone has accepted him (including his parents), the GIW disbanded, the Anti-Ecto acts repealed, and generally, everything is going great. Some of the A-Listers are even training as junior ghost hunters to help give him a break from his rogues! (Being Ghost King makes things hectic sometimes, and he just needs the extra help. Sue him!)

The point is, literally nothing is wrong with Danny Phantom’s afterlife.

And then Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, disappears in front of his eyes.

Danny is baffled! She’s just…gone! Valerie just popped out of existence, like she was never there. But no matter how hard he searches in the Ghost Zone, he can’t find her soul anywhere. His core isn't broken in grief. So she’s not dead. Which is good. So then, where is she?

Some of the others come forward with ideas on how to find her. A few ghosts volunteer to go out into the mortal realm, an area Danny had declared off-limits, to see if she was out there. Danny approves it. He rounds up some of the friendlier (i.e., discreet) ghosts and Amity Parkers and demolishes the outside travel ban.

So everyone spreads out, looking for their dear frenemy and teammate. But it becomes apparent very quickly that something is wrong with the rest of the world.

There are no more heroes.

Every single living superhero on the face of the Earth has just…vanished. Villains are running amok; the countries are in chaos! Some aliens are invading Earth, mythical deities are trying to take over, and society is crumbling to the ground. Everything is on the brink of collapse.

Well, Danny was still there. And so were his people. They were pretty spread out, so could they just…take up the mantles? He also knew where to find the souls of dead heroes in the Zone; surely they wouldn't mind coming out of retirement for a little bit, especially if they couldn't die again. Oh! And that skeleton army leftover from Pariah Dark's reign might be useful in repelling those invading forces.

Honestly, there were more than enough hands to go around! And with the heroes gone, Danny didn't mind letting everyone out for a little break, as long as they followed his rules. They wouldn't stop the search for the other heroes, but hopefully, when they found them, the heroes wouldn't mind Danny's intervention too much. :)

In other words:

Someone fucks up, and all of Earth's living heroes are either wished out of existence or are whisked away to some far-off realm where Danny hasn't checked yet. In the attempt to figure out what's going on, Danny lets the dead run amok over the Earth as they search for clues. The skeleton army repels the invading armies, the souls of dead heroes deal with the world leaders, and his rogues and other Amity Parkers set up shop in place of famous heroes, trying to get the cities under control again.

Basically, they just do their best to keep everything from imploding until the Justice League and others are back.

(And why is it that Danny hasn't disappeared? Well, whatever caused everyone to go poof! only affected living heroes. Anyone heroes that were dead in the first place, or even just half-dead, stayed behind.)

#pondhead blurbs #danny phantom #dpxdc #reveal gone right au #ghost king au #for plot reasons #it doesn't count if the hero had died and then came back to life #lots of heroes would still be around then #but this is me pushing the halfa!jason todd narrative work with me here he deserves the fun #deadman is there too #and he's just thriving honestly. it's so nice to be around his own kind even if the world is ending #maybe ellie is whooshed away too cause she never technically died but she took up danny's moniker when he was crowned #vlad is ecstatic cause danny put him in charge of several states while they looked for clues including Wisconsin #skulker is replacing superman and just has a shitty S painted on his chest and just eats kryptonite like candy the first time he meets Lex #Kitty and Johnny take over in gotham and sam is now the new wonder woman #idk man just stupid stuff like this #the press is flabbergasted cause the fucking KING OF GHOSTS just showed up and he's 14 and just looking for some friends #Danny: hey guys sorry about the zombies and fire i'm just here to find my coworker and lil sister and maybe the other heroes #Danny: in the meantime i'll just let my army into the mortal realm to defend it while we figure out what's going on pls don't yell at us :)#the press: how do we explain this to the justice league when they come back. how do we explain that earth was saved by a 14 year old boy-#also idk which heroes are technically dead but are still kicking so if you feel like someone deserves liminal status slap it on them idc #some villains are trying for world dominance and some are just trying to find their buddies. their fight buds. where'd they go? :(#joker gets bitch slapped by a skeleton two days in and waylon becomes bffs with wulf #danny uses the watchtower as a base of operations and it's the only thing he doesn't want to give up when the heroes are back #i have no plot ideas beyond this #i just want everyone to be baffled that an army of the dead showed up while they were gone and just made sure everything stayed cool #later danny realizes he was technically the ruler of the world for a bit since his people were everywhere keeping the villains in check

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mackandcheezy · 5 months

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Beneath the White Sheets (Young! President! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

A/N: A simple domestic fluff turned slightly sensual hot, slightly crazy, boyfriend who can’t keep his hands to himself. For my lovely anon who just wanted something less depressing than the typical hunger games fic

People are utterly stupid. At least that’s what Coriolanus had been telling himself for the past two hours. Being made president of Panem was everything he had ever wanted and more but he couldn’t stand how much conversation it involved. He could never stand to fraternize with those less intelligent than himself and that seemed fo be all this was comprised of. Though it all was worth it to come home to you.

You had met in school, what felt like such a long ago. Started as enemies as all good lovers do, competing to mentor the best tribute for the 10th hunger games. Yours had died before even making it to the arena, a fact Coryo never quite let you forget, or the fact that his won. But you were always quick to remind him that he cheated so it didn’t count. The same small frown would appear on his face at the mention of Lucy Gray.

You knew they had a history, but you also knew that nobody could ever love you the way he did. On a fundamental level she would always resent who he was, how he was raised, his “kind.” You on the other hand knew what it meant to work your way up from the bottom, to have drive and passion. You were one in the same in that way, but you kept him in check, able to dull some of the red that always tinted the edges of his plans.

The moment he bursted in the door you knew it had been a bad day even before he started ranting.

“I can’t BELIEVE these people, it’s like they think the world runs on expensive fabrics and tiny foods.” Coryo threw his suit jacket into the corner of the room, the white coat crumpling like a piece of paper. Running a hand through his hair he finally took the time to look at you properly.

His eyes raked your form, taking in the way your freshly washed locks framed your face. Your eyes were focused on him, that same worried look ever present on your face, it brought a warm flush to his cheeks. Even a year into marriage it never ceased to surprise him that everyday someone could care. That even after seeing him, the real him with skeletons in the closet, you still loved him— still forgave him. That simple fact was enough to make the stress of the day melt from his body. Shoulders dropping just the tiniest bit, jaw coming unclenched for the first time since he’d left at six am that morning.

He watched as you shuffled out of bed, in that same night dress that was just sheer enough to hint at what was underneath but not enough to satisfy his desires. Your pebbled nipples poking out just enough to make him want to do nothing more than to take one into his mouth and taste the sweet comfort of home. The thought of the taste of your skin already bringing a burning desire to his mind.

But you could simply fuck anytime, right now was for something more pure.

You floated across the room and wrapped your hands around his waist, burying your face in his chest, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I should fire everyone and replace them with you instead, you’re more intelligent that all of them combined,” he placed a greedy kiss to your lips before pulling away, “and much sexier too” his hot breath on your lips making you flush.

You allowed him to change his clothes wordlessly. Basking in the presence of your lover, Coryo doing the same. Your relationship was built on comfortable silence, if something needed to be said it would, but for now all either one of you needed was to feel the other.

Like a well rehearsed play you both flowed back to the bed, allowing the cool sheets and soft mattress to absorb your bodies until you met in the middle. Coryo wrapped every open limb around you until you were one. With your ear on his chest you listened to his heart beat. The rhythmic thumping grounding you, this was reality, white sheets and curly blonde hair.

“I’m scared” that statement sent chills through your body. Never had Coryo admitted to something so-- human in all the time you had known him.

“Do we have something to be scared for?”

“The thought of this being temporary fleets my mind often these days, that one day I will have nothing to provide to you anymore” The statement broke your heart. Deep down you knew he cared, even if he tried to convince himself he didn’t. Yet her he was the very thought of letting you down was terrifying.

“I don’t need anything but you,” You felt the held breath ruffle the strands of hair at the top of your head. “You are enough Coriolanus Snow, I promised myself to you because even a poor beggar I would want nothing more in this life than you”

“I have never wanted anything more than you” The confession surprised you in a sense. You knew you were an important part of the puzzle, but Panem always seemed to come first.

You allowed yourself to reflect on that as you watched the sun drop below the skyline of the Capitol, a warm orangey-pink engulfing the room. Allowing yourself to relax in the strong embrace of your husband, and give in to the sleep pulling at your eyes.

#coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #cornelius snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #abosas x you #abosas x reader #a ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #a ballad of songbirds and snakes

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month

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Jessie's Girl

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The Natural History Museum

The day that Magda and Pernille need to go to some fancy dinner to represent the club, is the same day they take you to the Natural History Museum in London.

Jessie told you about how she went weeks ago and it's all you've been talking about since.

You manage to wear Magda and Pernille down with all your talking until they finally relent and book tickets. You insist on Jessie coming too and, soon enough, you're all crammed on the Tube on your way to the museum.

You're sitting in Jessie's arms, squished like a sardine amongst all the other people. You insisted to your Morsa about booking the tickets at opening time so you could see absolutely everything which is why the Tube is packed right now and Jessie's holding you so you don't get swept away with the crowd.

Morsa's got one hand on the pole and the other on Momma's hip to keep her close as the doors open and more people pile off.

The Tube is loud. Very loud and it grates on your ears slightly so you duck yourself under the collar of Jessie's open jacket to try and block it out. You squeeze your eyes shut super tight too before it's finally your stop and the four of you pile off.

Jessie carries you all the way through the station before setting you on your feet again and letting you hold Momma's hand as you walk the rest of the way.

You're vibrating with excitement as Morsa gets the tickets scanned and then you're in.

It's your first time at a museum and, for a moment, you look like you're going to bolt so Pernille tightens her grip on your hand to make sure you can't escape.

The Natural History Museum is massive and Pernille knows just how easy it is to lose a little kid like you. You haven't hit your growth spurt yet so you're still on the shorter side and you would disappear amongst a big crowd like this too easily for her to be comfortable in letting go of your hand.

"What are you most looking forward to seeing, princesse?" Magda asks as you all stop in the middle of the hall to stare up in awe at the blue whale skeleton suspended from the ceiling.

"Er..." You think for a moment. "Dinosaurs! 'Cause Jessie says they're so cool!"

"Alright." Magda grabs a map from a pile nearby, unfolding it and studying it like Pernille hadn't caught her looking at the online version just last night. "I think we hit zone red first and go through all the stuff about volcanoes and rocks. Then we'll go to green zone and look at bugs and minerals. Then lunch and after that it should be about time for those tickets we booked for the spirit collection and then we'll round it off with mammals and dinosaurs and the gift shop. Sound good?"

Pernille laughs. "It's sweet that you've got everything planned out but I think our kids are already trying to plan out their own route." She tilts her head over to where you and Jessie (who has crouched down to be at your level) are discussing your own plans.

Magda sighs, lifting you up easily so you can't plan a mutiny on her and starts off towards the red zone.

"Morsa," You grunt," Wrong way! Dinosaurs!"

"Dinosaurs are last," Magda insists," Save the best until last."

You frown. "Like best bite last at dinner?"

"Exactly that," Magda says," We'll go look at rocks and volcanoes first and we'll work our way back to the dinosaurs. Sound good?"

You huff. "Fine."

Despite your original annoyance, you do find yourself enjoying the red zone and then the following green zone. Both you and Jessie are kept occupied for nearly fifteen minutes looking at the fossils of old ocean reptiles and Magda and Pernille rest their feet on a bench nearby.

At lunch, you and Jessie share a big bowl of mac and cheese and Pernille nearly laughs at how excited you both seem to explore the museum - even though Jessie went only a few weeks ago.

"Those are animals in jars," Pernille hisses to Magda during the spirit collection tour," We could be mentally scarring her right now."

"She loves it," Magda whispers back as you (and Jessie) listen, enamoured by what the guide is saying," Who knows? Maybe this is going to solve the problem of her wanting a pet. Nothing like a dead animal to put someone off of wanting a live one."

Pernille rolls her eyes. "You're evil. A pet wouldn't kill us."

"She's enough for us right now," Magda laughs.

By the time the mammal section rolls around, you're complaining of tired feet and Pernille swings you up onto her hip so you can rest and reads out the plaques to you.

Or, she tries to, because you keep interrupting to read them for yourself. You've gotten good at reading even though you're yet to go to school.

Magda insisted on starting you early, teaching you the basic principles of sounding out letters and phonetics to help you along.

Frankly, Pernille thinks it's frightening how intelligent you are at such a young age. You're Swedish and Danish bedtime storybooks are getting scarily easy for you to sound out and she shouldn't be surprised that you're applying the same rules to your English.

"What's that mean?" You ask, pointing at the italicised scientific name of the animal you're reading about.

"It's Latin," Pernille replies," Scientists use it to give a fancy name to different species."

"What's Latin?"

"It's a dead language," Jessie jumps in," No one speaks it anymore. It's just used to make scientists look smart."

You think for a moment. "Morsa calls me smart! Can I learn Latin, Momma?"

"Maybe when you're older," Pernille replies indulgently, not at all taking it seriously.

(She'll remember this conversation randomly when a letter comes home when you're sixteen asking if you could pretty please stop signing up for advanced Latin class because the teachers have nothing more to teach you).

Your feet have miraculously recovered from their aches and pains when you get to the dinosaur exhibit and Magda intervenes quickly when it looks like both you and Jessie are going to bolt.

She grabs you both by the hand and makes you fall into step with her.

"You stay where I can see you," She tells both of you equally," You hold each other's hands. You don't run ahead. If you can't hear me talking at a normal volume then you have gone too far ahead. You turn around and come straight back until you can hear me again."

"Yes, Magda."

"Yes, Morsa."

"Good. Remember your rules. Go and have fun."

Jessie shows you all of the dinosaurs, even down to the very little ones and you listen with rapt attention.

It's the slowest Magda and Pernille have seen you move all day, just taking everything in and hanging off Jessie's every word.

You almost don't want to leave and only the promise of a dinosaur at the giftshop gets you to move your legs again.

You browse for a while and so does Jessie, piling her arms up high with dinosaur merch. Magda, admittedly, knew that Jessie was a nerd in the best way possible but this only solidified it.

"No, princesse," Pernille says firmly when she sees you jumping to reach a jumbo triceratops plushie that said it cost sixty pounds," That's too expensive."

"Momma," You whine," Please?"

"I'm sorry," She says," But you know there's a budget on gift shop toys. What does your Morsa say about gift shops?"

"That they're stupidly overpriced and tourist traps for idiots," You repeat dutifully, sounding more and more like Magda that Pernille has to laugh.

"That's right," She says," So pick out something smaller so your Morsa doesn't complain about being conned out of money for the entire train ride home."

You huff in annoyance but ultimately choose an arctic wolf plushie because it's got super soft fur.

It's only twenty pounds but Magda still grumbles under her breath about gift shops being stupidly overpriced.

"Jessie," Magda says as you and her step out of the giftshop," What the hell is that?"

Jessie, at least, is feeling enough guilt to look down bashfully. "It's for y/n."

"Jessie," Magda says again," That's massive."

It's the triceratops you were eyeing up earlier and you nearly take Jessie to the ground from the force of the hug you give her.

You sit in Jessie's lap during the (much emptier) train ride home and you crash out asleep for your very delayed midday nap.

You stay asleep when you change trains. You stay asleep during the car ride and you stay asleep as Magda and Pernille get ready for their dinner tonight.

Jessie's your babysitter for the hours that they're gone for and you wake up as Magda and Pernille are a few minutes away from leaving.

"Momma," You whine," Don't go."

While your separation anxiety isn't as bad when you've been told in advance about things, it's still present and you still sniffle a little as your mothers gives you goodnight hugs and kisses because you'll be tucked up in bed by the time they get back.

You still sitting in front of the front door with Momma's Linköping jumper and Morsa's blanket.

For half an hour, Jessie doesn't understand how to help you. She's been warned about this explicitly, about how much you miss Magda and Pernille when they're gone.

She thought she would be fine but it's clear that this isn't something she can fully pull you out of.

So, Jessie turns on the tv, playing a random animated movie and just sits with you for support.

Somewhere along the way, you wiggle into her lap, leaning your back against her front and holding her hands around your belly for security.

"Do you want a drink?" Jessie asks quietly.

It takes hours for her to coax you into being a bit more like yourself, gradually shifting further and further away from the door until you're both sitting on the sofa again.

You're lying on Jessie's front, head lying pillowed on her chest as you stare longingly at the door.

One of Jessie's hands is under your top, gently drawing patterns on your back while the other plays with the little baby hairs you have at the base of your scalp.

It's nice. Not quite like how Morsa and Momma do it but enough for it to make you go all limp and boneless in her arms.

It's dark when Magda and Pernille come in from their dinner. Magda drove so Pernille was able to get a little tipsy on just one too many wines.

It's dark. The moon and stars are out but the light in the front room is open and the tv is still blaring some random show that's being shown gone one in the morning.

Jessie's asleep on the sofa, still in the clothes she worse to the museum. One of her hands is dangling on the floor, her knuckles skimming the carpet while the other is wrapped around your back.

You're still in your museum clothes too but you look perfectly content and happy, fast asleep on Jessie's chest.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

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Cutie pie snookums 🦋💫

I love love loved your piece of art for the Leo x aphrodite reader request ( had me giggling and kicking my feet 🤭)

Also it's more like a headcanon for all our precious lover boys ( Leo, Frank, Luke, Percy, Jason ( not me praying I didn't forgot one of my men )) talking about the reader and what they mean to them and reader overhears it

Nah cause I am giggling and blushing just thinking about it ahhhh

Mhuw💋 Mhuaw 💋

~ 🎀

⋆⭒˚.⋆ what do you say when I’m not around? hcs.

content: hcs for leo valdez, frank zhang, luke castellan, percy jackson & jason grace warning: so much fluff you're gonna wanna throw up author's note: THESE ARE MY CHILDREN EACH OF THEM IS SPECIAL TO ME PLS PLS PLS TELL ME WHICH ONE WAS YOUR FAV BC I LEGIT CANNOT PICK but i need the comments to be like 'oh mommy my favorite was (insert fave here)' and then you list every single reason oaky thanks this will do wonders for my self-image also bow anon is keeping yall fed, everyone say thanks to bow anon while youre in those comments

𝜗𝜚 leo valdez

you were walking towards bunker nine, somehow managing to hold the two plates steady in your hand and also avoid tripping over all the plants on your way there.

leo had missed lunch...again

you were sure he'd starve to death and becoming a skeleton in that damn bunker if it weren't for you

as you approached the door, opening your mouth to scream out your presence you paused as you heard your name through the door

curiously, you peeked in through the small crack, making out leo and jason before turning your ear towards it to hear better

"...i'm telling you, she's the best thing that every happened to me."

melting already

"you're so sappy," jason teased

"if you felt what i felt, you'd be sappy too," leo replied and you could just picture the cheesy smile on his face

"am i in one of those terrible rom-com's piper makes us watch?" taunted jason

"you know what? probably. and i'm very lucky. grateful, even," leo laughed back, "to make her laugh, smile, have her close, it- i'll know i'll be okay because i've got her. i mean, how bad can it be if she's by my side?"

jason and leo both turned towards the door of the bunker as it creaked open, revealing the sniffling and crying girl leo had just been talking about, two sandwiches held in her hands

"hey, hey, what's wrong- wait, were you eavesdropping?" leo questioned as he moved towards her, taking the sandwiches out of her hands and setting them on his workbench, the girl instantly wrapping her arms around him

"maybe, but that's not the point-"

"kinda feels like the point to me-"

"no, the point is that you're so sweet, leo. what did i do to deserve you?" you all but sobbed against his chest, leo laughing lightly as he rubbed your shoulders.

"you know, i ask myself that every morning," hummed back leo, pressing his lips to her temple, "i mean, i'd definitely starve if it wasn't for you."

"hey, i'd make sure you didn't starve!" jason insisted, both of the couple sending him a questioning look

"and what did you have for lunch, superman?" you prompted and jason looked like a deer caught in headlights, "that's what i thought."

"i meant everything i said, you know," leo later told you, after jason had scampered off to get his own meal.

you looked up from your lunch, a smile twitching at your lips

"i know. and i'd say i'm pretty lucky too."

𝜗𝜚 frank zhang

you and frank had a little study date planned for today, meeting at the little bakery that you guys frequented at new rome

the owners knew you and frank by name, a cute little polaroid of you guys framed behind the cash register

you're class ran long, the professor leaving the q&a open for far too long

you felt bad but knew frank wouldn't mind ordering for you and waiting a bit

your sweet boy

you walked in one of the side doors of the bakery, as it was the first one you ran into

you were beginning to make your way towards your regular table, only stopping because you hear what you knew to be frank's bashful laugh

"come on, can't tell me your favorite thing about her?" the owner prompted with a wide smile and you heard frank's laugh again, just picturing his blazing face

"there's too many. we'd be here all week," frank replied, easily, and you felt that warm and gushy feeling frank always leaves you with

"but you have to have a favorite of all favorites though," insisted the owner and there was a pause from frank, both you and the owner waiting with baited breath

"okay okay. when she thinks i'm not looking, she just looks at me with- with this smile. and i can't describe it but it's my favorite. it's just a look and a smile, but it means the world to me," admitted frank, the owner cooing and her body sagging at his sweet words

you were having a similar reaction, off to the side of the restaurant, a hand held to your chest.

"goodness, you two are just too cute. ugh, my husband and i used to be just like you, all lovesick and gross," the owner mused as you finally announced your presence, pretending to have just shown up.

though, frank could tell something was up based on the kiss you gave his cheek, the boy instantly looking down at you with a raised brow

you just wrinkled your nose at him, grabbing your coffee and baked goods and taking your basically assigned seats outside the cafe

"you know, i just love it when you come up behind me and just give me those massive bear hugs for no reason. it feels good- like, cozy and like home," you stated, seemingly, unprompted

but frank caught on quick, shaking his head and smiling at the girl

"how much of that did you hear?"

"more than enough, sweet boy."

"never gonna live it down?"

"oh, certainly not."

𝜗𝜚 luke castellan

"come on, percy, you can do better than that," luke barked at the boy with a laugh, percy heaving on the ground of the training arena

"you suck."

"are you talking to yourself or...?" asks luke with a smirk, causing percy to squint a glare at him

"i'll call for y/n and tell her youre being mean to me," threatened percy, completely unaware that you had already shown up with water for the both of them, taking a seat in the bleachers and waiting for one of them to notice you

"if you think she'll be on your side, you're wrong," luke laughed, helping percy off the ground.

(without meaning to, he'd later repeat this phrase word for word when revealing to percy that he was the lightening thief and kronos right hand man. percy would mention you and this would be luke's response. he would end up being wrong)

"of course she'll be on my side, look at this face," joked percy, exhaustedly swishing a hand towards his own face.

"ha! you're funnier than i give you credit for," luke mocks and percy huffs

"i don't know why that sweet girl is with your mean ass."

"you know, i ask myself that at least twice a day but...it's good that we're together. for both of us," answers luke, turning more serious as he shrugs his shoulders.

you're intrigued now, leaning forwards with interest

"how so?" percy prompts

"well...she makes me want to be a better person. i want to be the best guy for her, it's what she deserves. and she needs me to let loose a little, have some fun and break a few rules," luke reveals, his eyes catching on movement towards the entrance of the arena and a smile gracing his lips

"speaking of the little devil," he laughs, the girl peeking around the corner with a wide smile

"that's not what you were saying about me two seconds," you mock, passing a water bottle off to percy, who took it eagerly, before hold luke's out to him

"hmm. i don't know what your talking about," luke taunts with a twisted smile and you just shake your head at him.

"okay, mr. trouble, i gotta get going. but...i'm glad i have you too," you muttered, leaning up and pressing a kiss to where his scar ended on his cheek

he hid his blush well, pressing a kiss to her forehead when she went to pull away

"i'll see you later, hun?"

"obviously. also, percy, he twisted his ankle last week during capture the flag. just so you know," the girl winked, smiling cheekily at luke's paling face before scampering out of the arena.

(she'd later spill a similar secret to percy in the middle of manhattan-turned-warzone, giving percy key information on luke to help him win. she'll live with the guilt forever, unsure if it's survivors or not)

"you're a snitch!" luke called after the girl, her laughs being the only response he got.

𝜗𝜚 percy jackson

"are you sure they don't need help?" you asked percy's step father, paul, with a giggle as you two heard a clatter from the kitchen.

"knowing them, they're probably making the most extravagant pizza on the planet. one of us should probably check on them to make sure they don't blow the apartment up," paul hummed in agreement, nodding you towards the kitchen

"knowing percy, i wouldn't be surpirsed," you wink and paul laughs as you leave the living room, steadily making your way towards the kitchen

something told you to wait by the door for a bit, so you do, biting down a smile as you listen to percy and his mom.

"wait, wait, we're we supposed to preheat the oven??" percy asked and you could just feel the dead stare sally gave him

"yes, percy. i thought that was obvious."

"what if we just crank the heat super super high up-"

"no. immediately no."

"fineeeeee," percy droned, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

"so...y/n's sweet," sally started and you blushed, knowing that percy valued his mom's opinion above all else

"yeah. she's the best. oh, you should see her when she's doing something she really enjoys. her face get's all wrinkly cause she's scrunching it up but her smile is so bright, mom. and right before she's about to fall alseep, she always manages to snuggle closer to you and she twitches her nose twice before falling asleep. always twice, no more no less," percy started ranting, borderline unprompted.

your smile was impossibly large

"you seem to really like her," sally managed to get in

"i...i think i love her, mom. i don't see myself doing it with anybody else."

"doing what?"

"life."

now you were crying, huge fat tears rolling down your cheeks. but still smiling, always smiling because of that boy.

not wanting to ruin the moment, you head back to the living room, paul looking up at you slightly worried.

"they're okay."

"are you?" he whispers and you beam at him.

"better than ever. i'm a very lucky girl."

"i know that feeling," paul winks, "those jacksons, huh?"

"tell me about it."

𝜗𝜚 jason grace

"that your girl?" you hear a guy ask jason, surely nodding over at you standing in line for the pizza

jason promised you a day of just roaming new rome (im funny as shit yall) and you guys were just stopping for lunch

"yeah," jason replied with a smile, his eyes catching yours for a second before you looked away, not wanting to give away that you were listening.

"figured. you've got that lovey dovey look on your face," the guy laughs and jason laughs with him.

"well, that tends to happen when you're in love," responds jason, like this wasn't a monumental statement to make

"i gotta ask, what's it feel like? so i can know when the right girl comes around," the guy questions, suddenly serious and nearly desperate for an answer

jason's face screws up in the way that tells you he's thinking intensely about it.

"when you know, you'll know. i can't- there's this weight on my chest when i'm with her, it's heavy and suffocating but it's just how much i love her. it's all the things i would do for her, to keep her safe and to keep her happy. my soul knew she was the one from the moment we met, my mind's just playing catch up," jason rambled, the guy completely entrapped in his words.

"jesus," he muttered and jason winced, the roman demigod in him urging to correct him but swallowing it down.

"sounds like hell," the guy mutters after a few seconds and jason smirks

"oh, it is. my wallet's never been lighter and my sweaters have never disappeared at a more rapid rate. but, to have and to hold her in return? makes it all worth it."

"jase, baby, you want the one with feta, right?" you call to him from line, a proud smile on your face and what jason could have sworn were tears in your eyes

"yeah, that's good!" he called back, silently asking if you were alright with his eyes.

you wave him off and wipe at your cheeks, a totally completely unrelated thing.

you take the two flimsy paper plates and walk back to jason, mimicking a trumpet as you present his to him

he laughs, taking it from your hand and wrapping an arm around your waist, leading you away and down the street before pausing, looking down at you with a small smile

"you heard every word, didn't you?"

"i don't know what your talking about...but on an unrelated note, i think we should get married."

"right now?"

"why wait? i think my mind's catching up to my soul, don't you?"

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #jason grace #leo valdez #luke castellan #frank zhang #leo valdez x reader #frank zhang x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x reader #jason grace x reader

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

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Nico really fucking hates capture the flag.

Well, not always. Last week was fun. Last week was the annual Everyone Against The Stolls (to atone for their crimes), and Nico got to chase Connor around at top speeds, cackling, committing his shrieking and begs for mercy to memory. That was nice. That almost made him forgive the fucker for digging a trench under Nico’s unwelcome mat for him to fall into at seven thirty in the godsdamn morning.

But tonight’s game is boring.

He’s been standing, alone, at the base of the flag for the past forty bajillion hours. He’d raised a few dozens skeletons to spar with at first, since animating them to fight himself isn’t technically against the rules, but that got dull fast. (It isn’t much fun sparring with a partner who doesn’t have a brain. He already has to do that enough with Percy when he comes to visit camp.) He’d climbed the various trees around the clearing, or at least he tried until he got reamed by the dryads for climbing on a manner that was too annoying (?), and tried his hands at a few summoning spells. Nothing held his interest long.

And now he’s just standing, doing nothing, and he’s not allowed to leave. He has to stay in this stupid spot on the off chance that someone comes stumbling over to fight him for the flag.

“You’re our best swordsman, she said,” he says mockingly, beaming the nastiest vibes he can manage in Piper’s vague direction. “We need you on our defensive line, she said. Nyeh nyeh nyeh.”

His checks his watch. He groans. He looks critically over the grass, looking for a softer patch, and when he locates it he throws himself dramatically upon it, groaning louder.

“This sucks!” he yells, to no one.

“Will you shut up!” shouts back the dryad he pissed off earlier. “For the love of photosynthesis! Fuck!”

He bites his tongue hard to hold back laughter. (If he can avoid getting his entire cabin overgrown with prickle bushes again, that’d be great.) “Sorry,” he calls, trying with everything he has to sound contrite. Convincing his father to fight the Titan War was easier, actually. Acting is not his calling.

“Hmph!”

At least listening to see if she’ll come out and yell at him again provides something to ease his boredom. Yes, he’s going to regret bothering her, but in his defense, solo guarding is cruel and unusual punishment. He’d rather sit by an outlet with a fork and see if he can poke and let go fast enough to avoid dying. That at least would be interesting.

A rustling of leaves recaptures his attention, and he pauses.

“Holly?”

When no one answers, which is odd because she’s taken every opportunity in the last hour to either insult him or pelt him with stones, he lifts his head.

“You’re not going to scare me, dude. I had my fear glands surgically removed to become a better soldier.”

Not true. Obviously. But a fun bonus of being the camp weirdo is that no one doubts anything he says. He’s working on convincing everyone younger than him that he needs weekly tributes of chocolate delivered to his door every Friday or the dead are going to take over the world. So far, it’s working.

“Look, Holly, I’m sorry about the zombie, okay, I promise it didn’t mean to sneeze part of its brain on you —”

The rustling sounds again, only this time Nico can see that it’s not Holly’s tree, and in fact she is nowhere to be found. Alarmed, he jumps to his feet, shifting so he’s balanced on the balls of his feet, poised to attack. Is Piper’s plan failing? Has someone actually managed to make it all the way over here without getting (gently, probably, although they lost the last game and Piper gets cranky without dessert) maimed?

The rustling sounds for a third time. This time, an armoured someone stumbles out of the underbrush, tripping over their own foot and nearly landing flat on their face.

Nico has his sword at their throat in a millisecond.

“Wo-oah, Morbius. That’s probably my least favourite sword you could stab in me.”

Nico goes bright red. “I have never wanted to stab you more than right this second.”

Will, chest plate skewed to the right, quiver completely empty, and black paint smeared under his eyes, snickers. He puts a finger on the tip of Nico’s sword and pushes it away from his neck.

“The opportunity was right there, babe. I couldn’t not.”

“You really, really could. In fact at all times, you should remember these words of wisdom: shut up.”

“…Damn. Inspiring.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the smile on his face and the obvious pleasure in his expression. He’s even feeling merciful enough to accept Will’s kiss, although his sword keeps a good amount of distance between them. (Will’s on the blue team, after all. It would be unprofessional to be fraternizing with the enemy.

…Well, too much, anyway.)

“What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the other archers, sitting in trees and causing havoc.”

Will shrugs, grinning lazily. “I quit. This game is senselessly violent and I’m Against It On Principle. I’m a pacifist, you know.”

“Uh huh.” Nico raises an eyebrow. “I assume this doesn’t count you choking Cecil out in a headlock, this morning.”

Will opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He closes it again.

“Cecil is my mortal enemy,” he grudges after a moment. “He doesn’t count.”

“‘Course not. Not like you cried for two hours when he went to visit his mom last weekend or anything.”

“Will you — stop saying I cried. I barely teared up, okay. Barely.”

Nico can’t quite force down the stupid grin that pulls across his face, matching Will’s, nor can he resist grabbing the leather straps of his boyfriend’s armour and hauling him close.

“You better not be here to distract me,” he mumbles, leaning close and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Will hums, settling his hands on Nico’s hips.

“Nope. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Drama queen.”

“Excuse — I am the least dramatic, I’ll have you know. I’m a pinnacle of solemnity. I am a shining beacon of stoicism. I am — mmfh,” He trails off. “Okay, doing this now, mhm.”

Nico smiles triumphantly into the kiss. Will, he has found, is very easy to shut up, despite his long-running nickname of Motormouth. It’s almost like he has an off button that can be accessed only by Nico sticking his tongue in his mouth. Nico is doing his civic duty, honestly. He should be compensated for his service.

(‘Course, doesn’t hurt that Will smells, like, really good, all the time, and his lips are soft as hell and he is actually quite the kisser, in fact. That is definitely a fun bonus.)

He smooths his hands over Will’s shoulders, travelling up the sides of his neck and settling in his hair. Will keens, slightly, when he wraps a finger around a frizzy golden curl and tugs, slightly, when he scratches his nails along his scalp. The rush of power at the feeling makes Nico dizzy, and his sword clatters to the ground as he busies himself with more interesting — and important — things.

Like pulling more of those sounds from his boyfriend’s throat. Or making his knees buckle, again, like he did the other night — gods, that was good, it made Will flush scarlet and Nico feel like he was fuckin’ floating, to have Will so needy and touchy and totally at his mercy —

“Free line to the flag! Go go go go!”

Nico startles, whirling towards the sudden cacophony of noises. To his horror, what looks like half the camp, helmets shining with plumes of blue, comes pouring into the clearing, weapons raised, voices mixing in one long, victorious shout. He lunges for his sword, but before he can grab it, two strong arms tighten around his torso, pinning his hands to his side.

Immediately, he knows he’s been set up.

“Oh, you — fucker!”

He feels the curve of Will’s grin against his neck. “First shower privileges for a whole month, baby.” He noses along his jaw, pressing an apologetic kiss to his cheek. “Couldn’t resist.”

Nico struggles, aghast, watching the once-red flag shimmer in Lou Ellen's hold to a bright, shining blue. “I am breaking up with you, you traitor, you Iago, you vixen — ”

Will snorts. He ducks down and pecks Nico on the lips, again, and again, and then shifts to his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his temples, his forehead, and all over his face, making louder and louder mwah sounds until Nico is laughing, punching his shoulder and shoving him away.

“Okay! Okay. Let me go, you villainous toad. We will discuss how much you’ll have to grovel for my forgiveness after Piper finishes yelling at me for getting distracted.”

Will presses one last kiss to his nose, smiling cheekily before stepping away, heading towards his boasting team. “Enjoy that lecture! Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico rolls his eyes, resting his aching cheek in his hand. “Love you too, asshole.”

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lemonlover1110 · 2 months

Note

Hello! I hope you are doing well 😌 you are my fav writer and I just wanted to to throw out this crazy brainrot request to u bc I am SICK over it

So Florence nightingale syndrome right? Toji is like a professional boxer or whatever something athletic bc he's a fucking beast and he gets hurt, like his leg or something, and you become his at home occupational therapist. So you're like taking care of him and he's getting feelings for you while also being a stubborn ass bc u push him constantly so he can get better. and he's super hesitant to accept his feelings bc he's a Playboy of course.

I'm just picturing this one scene where you're helping him up and he's leaning on you and he says something like "are you sure you can handle me princess?" Idk I'm insane I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

Pairing: boxer!Toji Fushiguro x f!caregiver!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, frustrated Toji, Florence nightingale syndrome, Toji has an injured leg and is a little bitch for a bit

*This was so fun to work on and now I'm having thinking a little too hard about boxer toji (I'm ovulating) sofjsof enjoy!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji never really thought he’d be dependent on someone, yet now he can’t even take a shower standing up. After an unlucky boxing match, Toji ended up in a cast and crutches. That’s what he gets for not listening to his son who told him it was around time to retire.

“I’m not a fucking skeleton, I’m good in my field. I can do this for a couple more years.” How he wishes he could swallow his fucking words. He thought that after getting the cast off he’d go back to normal, and he’d have no issue with mobility. He shouldn’t have an issue moving his fucking leg again, he’s been moving it for more than thirty years, why should three months of not moving it change much?

Apparently he can’t do anything, which is why he has someone with him all day every day, helping him so he can get better. Toji’s main issue? He gets frustrated when someone tries to help him.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You smile at him as you put his dinner in front of him. He has a scowl on his face as you set it down in front of him. He tried to help make dinner but he couldn’t stand for too long. He’s mad, but not at you. He could never be mad at you.

Toji wasn’t necessarily fond of you when you started working with him; he hates being dependent on someone else, and he knew that he would have to depend on you for pretty much everything. You try to help him though, and he should be more appreciative of you because of it, but in reality he feels like a fucking baby. He’s grown to like you though… A little too much for his liking.

You leave him to eat, going to wash the dishes since he can’t do the task yet. Perhaps his own bowl and spoon, but not everything that needs to be cleaned. You watch him from the counter, watching his refusal to pick up the spoon and eat the soup you made him. Earlier he was so prideful, telling you that he would help you every step of the way during dinner, and he couldn’t even finish one third of it. You were proud of him regardless.

“It’s really good, Toji! The potatoes you helped peel really added a touch to it.” You’ve gotten close enough to be on a first name basis. You see each other every day, you stay in the same house, of course you’re close enough to talk to each other so casually. It doesn’t mean you should though. You’ve always managed to keep a very professional relationship with patients, but there’s just something about him that makes it hard for you to be normal around him.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.” He says, pushing the bowl of soup away. He’s not hungry anymore. Toji stands up, his hands holding on to the table to support himself before grabbing his crutches.

“Toji, if you’re not eating it, can you try to bring it over to me, please?” You ask. You know the soup has cooled down, if he spills it, he’ll be fine.

“If you want it, pick it up yourself.” Toji is clearly mad. You don’t take it to heart though, because you know it’s with himself and not you.

“How about we go to the park tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a nice day out.” You talk to Toji who tries to watch a documentary. He’s not all that interested in what he put on, caring more about what you have to say. He might not show it, and he tries to deny it, but he has the biggest soft spot for you. “We can also get some ice cream, if you’re in the mood!”

“Hey… I’m sorry about earlier. I was just—” It’s hard to get an apology out of him, but sometimes he knows he’s in the wrong and he feels the need to apologize. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, even though you’re clearly not upset with him. You’re so understanding and patient with him, he feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re fine, Toji.” You reassure him with a smile, your hand going over his balled up fist. You feel your heart skip a beat as you touch him. You’ve crossed the line past a professional relationship, and you should set some boundaries within yourself– But his other hand goes on top of your own before he brings it up, softly kissing your knuckles. It’s hard to set boundaries when he feels the same way.

“I’m tired.” He tells you, and you stand up to help him get up. Toji usually denies your help, but this time, he has no problem accepting it. You just want the best for him, and there’s some things that he can’t do completely alone. He has to take baby steps. He’s using you for support, and he’s scared that he’s too heavy for you. He asks you, “Are you sure, princess? Can you handle me? I know I’m pretty big.”

“You’re fine. I can handle you.” You reassure him, and you begin to walk to his bedroom. His room was previously on the second floor, but ever since his injury, he’s moved his bedroom to the first floor. You get him to his bedroom, helping him on the bed. You smile at him before saying, “Let me grab your crutches. You left them in the living room, right?”

Before you can walk away, he grabs your sleeve. Toji’s slowly realizing that he can’t fight off the feelings that consume him when you help him, and he’s usually not a fan of them. Toji’s been tied down once before, he certainly doesn’t want that again. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t mind the idea.

“Will you lay down with me?” He asks, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. You shouldn’t. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before he prompts himself up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Toji, you know this isn’t something I can do.” You tell him as he looks lovingly into your eyes. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“You can help me get better by laying down next to me.” Toji responds. You grab the hand that so lovingly touches your cheek and kiss it, before bringing your lips down to meet his momentarily. He swears he hears fireworks when your lips meet, even after you pull away.

He’s most definitely in love with you.

“I’ll go get your crutches. Good night, Toji.”

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chronurgy · 4 months

Text

God act 3 can be a truly insane series of events for Durge. You find out that you're a Bhaalspawn, something widely hated and reviled. Your companions assure you that you can still choose to do good. Then boom, oopsie, you weren't good at all! Turns out you were Bhaal's Chosen and you started the whole Absolute plot. Oh and also, the guy who sold Karlach, the tyrant running the city, yeah he was your bestie and quite possibly your lover and he's soooo happy to see you! He also has the fun news for you that Orin, your sister Orin, has replaced one of your new buds and is lurking in your camp just waiting to slip a knife between your ribs. So you do everything to track down the temple of Bhaal and follow a bunch of dwarves in red who run around the city murdering people and cutting off their hands for the way in. And once you find it, you go racing through the sewers to save your friend and meet Sarevok, who gives you shit for not having kids! Then finally you make it to the temple and fight your last family member. After which you either take up your old place as chosen of Bhaal and commit to ruling the world in his name or you reject him, die, and get brought back to life by your fucking ominous camp skeleton!

And then, after all that, that very night while you're still trying to process it all? The squid tries to fuck you

Durge after this extremely insane 2-3 day period that completely changes everything they know about themself and their place in the world AND the mindflayer tries to hit:

#dark urge #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #the emperor

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turtleblogatlast · 4 months

Text

[ cw: risk taking behavior / circumstantial self harm kinda / ignoring of injuries / self-depreciation / slight ooc-ness but for a reason! / ]

Post invasion, Leo is fine.

More than fine! He’s better than before, even. That is, if you don’t count the slightly cracked shell and still healing bones, but those are only a problem when the weather wants them to be!

Leo really is better in the ways that matter.

He’s not as cocky, not as self-centered, and overall just more heroic in general if he does say so himself.

Raph even said he was proud of Leo!

So obviously things are going well.

But.

It’s not enough.

Leo’s better, sure, but he’s still got work to do.

So - and here’s something that will probably make his brothers faint on the spot - he needs to train.

_____

His brothers do not faint, but it’s a near thing for Raph. Mikey has to fan the snapper’s face and Donnie almost brings out the smelling salts before Raph shoots back to his feet with an excited grin.

Leo’s big brother gets teary eyed soon after and envelops him in a bear hug, saying once again how proud he is that Leo is growing up.

Leo lets himself be hugged, even hugs back as fiercely as he can, because unbeknownst to Raph, this marks the end of Leo’s childhood.

He lets himself be hugged like a kid one last time, looking through the hole in Raph’s shell all the while.

_____

Leo only trains the regular way with his brothers and occasionally April and the Caseys, but most especially Raph.

But of course that’s not enough, it was never going to be.

So he goes through the motions of the stretches, the spars, the meditation, and then he leaves.

He makes sure to have his excuses ready, usually defaulting to Hueso as his go to since his brothers are easily bought off with the promise of pizza. Leo hasn’t yet found the tracker Donnie installed in him, but when he does that’ll be dealt with too! But for now, this should be good.

See, the invasion made him realize something.

It’s not about him, but it was his shortcomings that led to everything going to hell.

So he just…needs to get rid of those shortcomings.

He’s working on it, gaining fighting skill in training, but there’s more he needs to do, more skills he needs to train.

Leo watches intently as Repo Mantis swindles someone, he memorizes the sleight of hand that Hypno performs, he sneaks back into the Mystic Library and is so quiet the hush bats forget he’s there, he talks Big Mama into honing his manipulation, and he even sneaks into human hospitals and reptile veterinary clinics to get a clue on more serious injuries.

And after any of these, he heads to Run of the Mill to compete in the Maze of Death.

_____

This is his twelfth time going through the (newly remodeled and even more deadly) Maze of Death, and would be his fifth time winning. The first three times had him waking up in Hueso’s office, and each time he wakes his old persona shines through.

He always waves off Hueso’s annoyance and questions and insists on trying again next time before he steals some pizza and bails.

The skeleton actively tries to stop him from entering the Maze after the first time, but hey- mystics are allowed before you enter.

It’s easy enough to teleport on by.

Harder to meet Hueso’s - and later his brothers’ - eyes when he fails again.

When he first actually won, Hueso congratulates him in that typical deadpan tone of his.

“Ah, felicidades, Pepino. Now you can move on, sí?”

“Hm? Nah, boneman! That run was sloppy!”

And then Leo runs off before Hueso can stop him.

He doesn’t even look at his picture on the champion wall when he next comes around. It’s not much to look at anyway.

_____

His second win is much like the first, and only his third win is actually acceptable.

But he knows the field too much now. He needs a challenge.

When he attempts to go through it blindfolded, he’s quickly shown how much he doesn’t know the Maze. So, obviously, he loses again.

He got a bit more banged up that time around.

“Pepino, basta ya, you’ve already won. Where are your brothers?”

“I can’t stop yet, señor! This is for my brothers - no les digas, please.”

Even if Hueso wanted to tell Leo’s brothers, they haven’t been in enough for him to get to, and it’s not like Hueso has their number since Leo’s the one Hueso usually contacts. For now, Leo’s safe to continue as is.

Though his injuries are getting harder to hide, and there’s only so much his shell in particular can take.

So to speed things up, he incorporates the blindfold into his regular training.

His brothers question it, of course, but hey, he initially got the idea from seeing Lou Jitsu do it in the third best Lou Jitsu movie, so it comes as a great excuse now.

He’s only a little put off by how fast Mikey adapts to it when the others try.

“I dunno-“ Mikey shrugs when asked, “You guys shine so brightly anyway, a mask doesn’t do much.”

Seeing their mystic energies is pretty cool, Leo can admit.

He just wishes he could grasp that himself - and that it was useful for a death maze.

_____

Leo’s training pulls off eventually, and soon, after a few more losses, he wins a forth time. But it’s a near loss, and a near loss is the difference between someone living and dying.

He’s gotta go again.

Hueso’s more insistent than ever, though.

“You must stop, Pepino.”

“But I can do better-“

“You don’t have to! Your shell is bleeding - ¡por tu propio bien, poner fin a esto!”

“I told you, this is for their own good! For everyone’s own good!”

He forgets the pizzas when he leaves. He claims sickness when he hides under his covers.

He ignores how childish the act makes him feel.

_____

Leo’s getting better, and his reflexes and tact in training shows this. His other training of his subterfuge and medical skills also prove to be useful.

He’s pretty good at hiding injuries, now! Though not so good at hiding a pained shell. Even Donnie looks at him with blatant concern (and understanding) when Leo can’t help but take a sharp breath whenever he lands on his back.

It’s hard not to go right back into waving everything off with jokes like he used to. Deflections are easier when they’re annoying!

But- this is just another reason that he needs to get better, right? So his brothers won’t worry. He doesn’t need the spotlight anymore - he’s over that, thanks.

He squashes down the part of him that perks up when Splinter says he’s growing up. He actively kills the part of himself that cries at the same phrase.

_____

So. Yeah. This’ll be his twelfth time running the Maze. And, hopefully, his fifth win. Maybe he really will move on after this.

The Hidden City is pretty big! There’s probably a bigger challenge somewhere.

Maybe Big Mama has a more secret Nexus hidden away, out of the public eye.

Well, whatever. That’s a future problem for him to figure out, yeah? For now, he carries on like usual, teleporting to the entrance of the Maze and diving right in.

Even blindfolded, he works his way through, dodging and weaving and feeling as he goes. He even tries to evoke his inner Mikey and calls on his mystic energy. Not enough to cheat, but enough to feel.

Usually, when Leo teleports, he swears he feels every part of himself disperse into particles. Now, with energy thrumming under his scales, he can feel particles everywhere.

It’s not refined enough to tell him everything, and he gets a fun new burn and a nice whack to the back by getting distracted. Still, it gives him more than he had before. It makes him more aware of everything, like he licked a finger and held it in the air to feel the direction of wind, but every direction blew wind, all in different ways.

He makes it to the end with minimal injuries after that, and sure, his shell is screaming at him now, but he thinks he did a shell of a good job.

…Ah, he needs to cut that out, huh? Man. Maybe Donnie’s collar idea was a good call after all.

Leo needs to be a hero. Not a face man. Not a failure.

Not a kid.

_____

Leo doesn’t smile when the Minotaur takes his picture again for the champion wall, and he doesn’t listen when she tells him to “go home and never come back.”

He doesn’t plan to, anyway, yeesh.

He’s tired as he trudges out of the exit, and Hueso catches him when he stumbles.

Hueso doesn’t say anything. Leo doesn’t either.

Or, he doesn’t, until he feels a familiar large hand helping him up as well.

Leo’s face whips up as he flinches back, eyes wide as they meet with a worried (so, so worried) Raph’s.

“You told them?” Leo asks Hueso in betrayal, heart thudding wildly in his chest.

“Pepino…”

“Told us what?” Mikey pipes up from behind Raph, coming closer to get a better look at Leo, “Leo, what’s going on?”

“Your shell has been having pretty big setbacks on its healing, is this why?” Donnie demands, glaring fiercely as he motions toward the Maze.

Leo feels unmoored. “I-“

“Leo.” Raph interrupts, and no Leo doesn’t want to hear it- “Are you okay?”

And Leo wants to say “it’s not about me”. He wants to say anything that proved he learned his lesson, that he’s not a liability or worse, an active danger to his own family.

He wants Raph to continue being proud of him. He wants his brothers to trust him.

Instead, he passes out.

_____

The next time his eyes open, Leo’s on his side, staring at his blue lava lamp.

He knows without looking that his shell is re-bandaged. He knows his other injuries have been dealt with too.

And unless Leo learned how to do some pretty impressive medical sleepwalking, he knows he’s not getting away this time.

All three of his brothers being in his room prove that.

“What’s been going on, Leo?” Mikey asks, and his voice cracks partway through.

He’s looking at Leo like he’s searching for something, but Leo doesn’t have anything to show. Nothing’s hidden, he just did some light spring cleaning is all, throwing out all the parts he didn’t need.

All the parts they didn’t need.

And yet despite everything, he can feel himself falling back into old ways, a grin tugging at his beak and lackadaisical deflection on the tip of his tongue.

Maybe he should let that part of him show, just for once. It wouldn’t seem like too much of a setback would it? And he could really use a fun pun right about now-

No.

No it’s not about him. He needs to remember why he did all this in the first place.

“Okay- sorry, guys.” He smiles, softly, quietly, “I guess I got too caught up in training. I’ll work at it some more, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I see. Training. That’s all it was, huh? Training.” Donnie hisses more than says, nearly vibrating in anger.

“…yeah?” Leo nods slowly, because, uh, that’s literally the most honest thing he said. It was training.

“If it’s just “training” then why the secrecy, hm? Why in Curie’s good name did you prefer to sneak around rather than, oh, I don’t know, tell your family?”

Leo feels his shoulders rise at Donnie’s aggression, defensiveness welling up in him, “It was my training! Nothing went wrong, I’m getting better!”

“Better?” Raph asks incredulously, “Leo, you’re wasting away. A tap to the shell stuns you for minutes, you lost weight, and your dark circles are worse than Raph’s ever seen them! You aren’t getting better-!”

“YES I AM!”

The words rip out of Leo before he can stop them.

The room is silent as his brother look at him, all wearing expressions of hurt that Leo put there again.

“Yes I am.” Leo reiterates, shaking, “Because- if I’m not-“ He squeezes his eyes shut. “If I’m not-“

Then what was all this for?

Arms slowly wrap around him, and he knows now from the feel of the mystic that it’s Mikey.

“You’ve gotten faster, and sneakier.” Mikey says quietly. “When I accidentally cut my hand, you knew exactly how to take care of it.” His voice grows firm, and he backs out of the hug, “But those are your skills. You, though, you’ve been…you’ve been…”

“You’ve been dilapidating before our very eyes, and trying to hide it.” Donnie finishes, jaw tight. “You think we wouldn’t notice? After everything?” To Leo’s horror, Donnie’s voice is hoarse with tears, “You absolute dumb dumb.”

“I- but I need to train. The Maze is-“

“Leo, we don’t care that you ran through the Maze. We care you did it alone.” Raph says quietly. “We could have joined you, any time.”

“But- but I’m doing this for you-“

“Listen to your brothers, Blue.” They jump as a new voice joins the fray, heads turning to see Splinter make his way into the - frankly crowded - room.

“Dad, I-“ Leo begins, but trails off, suddenly more unsure than ever in the face of his father.

“It’s good you’re finally picking up training! Especially for your brothers’ sakes! But there’s such a thing as going overboard, you know.” Splinter pokes a sharp claw into Leo’s plastron, “Just because you’re dragging it out this time, doesn’t make this any less of a sacrifice. My son, you’ve taken after Karai an awful lot, haven’t you?”

Leo just looks at his father. At his brothers. Then, he looks down at his calloused hands, bandaged and scarred from overuse.

He swallows dryly. “Is that a bad thing?”

He feels his family crowd in around him, feels his father’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not wrong to want to be better, Leonardo.” Splinter says, softly and with so much grief and guilt that Leo can never begin to understand, “But you were never bad to begin with.”

Leo’s breath hitches.

“And-” Splinter’s hands rise up to frame Leo’s face. “You are much too young to ever consider sacrifice the best answer.”

“You got me to relax, Leo. So I’ll do the same for you.” Raph grins, eyes wet, “We’re still kids, right?”

And-

Leo smiles, watery but genuine. “Yeah, Raph. We are.”

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rise leo #rise fanfic #WHOOPS #did not mean to write all this #my only regret is not including April #anyway I was like wow Leo sure is acting different at the end of the movie huh #then I thought hey he’s actually acting a lot like previous iterations of Leo rn #then I ran with it and tripped down the stairs in the process #thus this was born!#I am tired so more tags later #but dang oops a bit too angsty gotta do smth lighthearted soon huh #also yes he DOES go back and apologize for putting Hueso through so much #he gets a smack on the head and a head pat immediately after #‘don’t do it again Pepino - not until I finally get the Maze shut down’ ‘okay wait what-‘

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