can you do smth about loser gf n sukunas first date? i love them sm
𝝑𝝔 an: hope u enjoy this :)) read more about cool bf sukuna x losee gf reader here!!
cool boyfriend sukuna isn’t that original(he doesn’t even try to be) so he just takes you to see a movie and then plans to walk you home after that.
you give him the freedom of choosing what movie to watch and he, of course, chooses a slasher. you take the ticket he gives you with an excited grin, which excites him, and leave him to go to the restroom to check yourself out.
sukuna’s gaze doesn’t leave you or the path you walked on even for a minute as he admires the way you put a little more thought into your outfit, looking as sweet as ever, and added a little more makeup to enhance your pretty features. he’s not gonna lie, the way you did your lips really makes it hard to keep himself together.
to his amusement, you are still a little scared by the cheap jumpscares, hand visibly itching to grab his. sukuna spends most of the movie’s runtime watching you, absentmindedly biting the nail of his thumb and smiling at your cute reactions. the way you tightly close your eyes whenever a violent scene is on, the way you hiss and your face scrunches in disgust at the sight of someone’s fake guts on the screen, the way you squeal quietly when you get jumpscared — he finds you so adorable it’s crazy.
sukuna takes your hand at the first opportunity that presents itself: when you’re giggling at something he said and don’t notice a person walking by, accidentally bumping into them. sukuna doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand and pull you into himself, giving the person a nasty glare. you smile sheepishly at him, but don’t let go. he feels very peaceful, like he’s never felt before.
and to sukuna’s surprise, when he is ready to leave your address after walking you home like the gentleman he’s quite far from being, you, the shy loser who is hardly even noticeable if you don’t look carefully around the classroom, come back from your apartment, running after him, and soon hold onto his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes to plant a shy kiss on his cheek before hurriedly disappearing into your apartment again.
he can barely suppress the idiotic smile splitting his lips.
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"Sometimes I forget they're gone."
Bruce looks up from work - a crossword he's doing to pass time until the gas chromatography finishes - and over to where Tim is rolling back and forth in front of a secondary terminal. The steady squeak of his chairs back wheel was almost meditative in a way. He stared up at a blank screen, face only illuminated in profile by the gentle glow of Bruce's own terminal.
"Who is?" Bruce asked when Tim didn't elaborate. For all that this was functionally his home now, the boy had a tendency to occupy space in a way that made Bruce's jaw ache from biting his tongue.
"My parents." Tim stopped rocking and the Cave was as silent as a grave between them. One grave in particular. "Like, something happens and I think, oh, Mom would love to hear about this. Or Dad would get all huffy and rant over something silly and it would be fun to listen to."
Tim, who loved his parents and, arguably was loved in return. He spent most of his time in his room or the Cave, exploring other rooms in the Manor like his parents did archeological sites. Interesting to him, but not a place to be.
"Sometimes I pick up the phone and get as far as putting in their international number, you know?"
Tim, who was parented through phone calls and post cards. Tim, who spent so much of his life in boarding schools that an actual home looked more like a museum than a place to live.
"I'm sorry, bud," Bruce murmured. There wasn't much else he could say, aside from reminding Tim that his father was still alive. Comatose, hanging in limbo, but alive.
Bruce thought it would be easier if Jack Drake died with his wife. Bruce also hated himself for thinking those kinds of things.
"I just keep thinking about Mohenjo-daro," he continued. "We're learning about it in school this unit and I keep remembering- I keep remembering that Dad said he's been there. I can't keep the dates right in my head and he would have helped."
"I can give it a shot," Bruce offered even though he knew it was the wrong thing to do now just as it had been the wrong thing to do when he offered to find a Romani language tutor for Dick when he realized he was forgetting things.
It would solve one part of the problem, but it would never replace the help a father could give.
Tim turned towards him, pale face washed out in stark relief under the light from behind Bruce. He wondered if Tim could even see his face in the relative darkness and found a cowards courage knowing he couldn't.
"He told me a story about it once," Tim said. "I can't remember the ending. I can't remember what he told me. Why didn't I listen better?"
Bruce had no answer for him. He set his paper aside and opened his arms.
Dick would have thrown himself at Bruce, taking comfort where and when he could. Jason would have slunk over and did his level best to press close enough to cave in Bruce's chest and make himself a home.
He was, in hindsight, too good at that.
Tim always hesitated. Weighting the pros and cons? Overthinking a simple comfort offered freely? Bruce never knew.
Still, Tim slowly abandoned his squeaking chair. He let Bruce tug him in for a hug.
Tim was older than Dick had been, around the same age as Jason. Even so, in moments like this he seemed immeasurably younger. Tim, cast off in a prestigious boarding school, had lived comparatively untouched by life's hardest lessons. He signed up for the work, but he couldn't have known how hard it would be. Bruce never should have let him in, but what could he do now? Tim came to him when he needed a partner the most and he was so, so grateful even as regret threatened to choke him.
A beep, then. Bruce's eyes drifted upwards.
"The drugs we lifted from the Iceberg Lounge?" Tim asked against Bruce's neck.
"Yes."
"Show me."
Bruce let Tim out from the protective circle of his arms and did so. The moment lay broken behind them, like so many others.
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re: astarion not remembering his parents
i vastly prefer my headcanon that astarion remembers his pre-undeath life vividly. his childhood memories of a loving family, playing in the sunshine, being free to run around the city streets were on constant replay during his time under cazador's torment. his nervous first day on the job, the jokes he would crack with the people he met. astarion takes great care to live in the memories without tainting or changing them so that he can always come back. the decades and decades of being a vampire spawn and all the associated trauma all sort of blend together, but a random lunch picnic with his parents on the grassy fields just outside the gates? when his mom made little pork sandwiches and lady finger cakes? when the sun was so warm on his skin and there was a slight breeze, but he was just so little and safe? i dont think astarion could ever forget
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I finally finished Valarie and Clayton’s Character refs/profiles. Kinda glad I waited this long because if I finished it when I first made it I wouldn’t have played around with the background so much and wouldn’t have ended up with something similar to the in game profiles.
So here they are, Valarie Bronev and Clayton Bronev, aka Leon’s parents. I made them for How Things Change Au, so I’ve included some Luke struggling to keep the secret of him knowing the future from them (also yes, that is Emmy’s camera. She lent it to Luke before the sanctuary so it ended up in the past too).
Luke did struggle to adjust to the past, slipping up every now and then though they never truly figured out what was up with Luke (not that they were prying, it was obvious enough from Luke’s behaviour that whatever he’d been through, it had taken its toll so they didn’t want to stress him out more).
Luke’s doing his best but the stress of possibly messing up the future too much isn’t something that just disappears.
Profile text under the cut:
Valarie Bronev
A brilliant and straight-laced detective and Leon’s mother. She’s highly regarded and and accredited to several major mysteries being solved, though she often tries to avoid the spotlight.
As a mother, she can be quite strict, or even a bit scary at times, but she does care deeply about her son.
She tends to have a tough time separating and balancing her work and home life, but Clayton is there to help if things are becoming too much for her.
She has a passion for photography, always carrying a box camera on her, keeping a more expensive one at home.
Clayton Bronev
A studious and — at times — absent minded archaeologist and Leon’s father. He spends most of his time studying and deciphering ancient texts in his home office, not sparing much time for cleaning up has made it quite a mess, though he knows where everything is (most of the time.)
As a father, he handles most of the day to day childcare and he’s good at entertaining Leon and children in general, he has plenty of stories to tell.
He’s quite knowledgeable about architecture and it’s history. He knows a lot of random trivia on a lot of different subjects, sometimes this knowledge can help Valarie on particularly odd cases.
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