#and he refuses to go back to rehab | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magics-neptunes-things · 16 days

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The Dork And The Nerd

Hello there!

I didn't post anything with Leah since like for ever, so there it is!

Please enjoy :)

TW : None I think, or please let me know :)

Looking around the room, you readjust the camera one last time before starting your stream. It’s your job, even if some people are still saying that it isn’t a real job and stupid things like that.

You were winning your life easily with it, living your dream. You always loved playing video games, you started alone because it wasn’t what your little sisters were loving to do. When you discovered online games it was a life changing for you. You started streaming when you were 18 years old, which was seven years ago now. It was hard at first to be honest, being a woman in this man world.

But you find some friends in popular streamers who took you under their wings and help you to be where you are now.

You have several thousand people who follow you to each of your live, four night each week. You still have some shit to deal with, like harassers, but you took a manager who is the one reading your mail. He takes on him to choose your different partnership and sometimes answer to the people sending you strange things.

You are openly gay, but that doesn’t make stop some of men to send you disturbing pictures. Thanks god it’s your agent who see them, but you are aware of it. Just like your girlfriend, though.

You start your stream like usual, saying hello to your followers and talking a little bit about actuality or what you did today. You have a white kitten, who you called Purrito, who is almost as famous as you are. He keeps coming when you are playing, sometimes lying on your hand, or trying to catch the mouse of your computer. You already have a lot of bloopers because of him, but you can’t be mad with him.

Lately, your passion for video games seems to have catch the attention of your girlfriend. She always was looking at you when you are streaming, when she can. You usually do it during the evening so she’s back from training or games.

When Leah asked you to learn to her how to play video games, at first you thought she was messing with you. But she was really serious and ask you one more time. And who are you to refuse something to your girlfriend?

At first it was just to have fun, but you soon have an idea, and you used your best puppy eyes to get your girlfriend agreed with it. You wanted to make her play with you, but without her showing her face in your screen.

You never talked about Leah being your girlfriend, even if you are together for two years now. The public know that you are in a relationship, you sometimes mention your girlfriend live. They just don’t know who she is.

You met Leah at a ceremony and Katie who is a fan of your job took Leah when she went to met you. You were happy to met Katie, but you find yourself thunderstruck by Leah. You don’t remember if you were really coherent that night, but Leah followed you back almost immediately when you did it on Instagram.

You waited the next Arsenal games to sent her a message, congratulating her for her performance. You even take a picture of you in the stand with your father (who really was surprised when you ask him to go with you to a women football game). Leah answered you that next time you come you have to tell her, so she could give you a better seat.

You didn’t know if she was serious or not, but she then asked you the next game in London if you are coming and she find you a seat in the friends and family area. After the game she offers you to go for a drink. You then had other dates, and the rest is history.

You got together one month before she did her ACL and even if it was a hard time, you both get stronger. You let Lia Wälti take the lead in Leah’s recovery, but you were always around to help too. When Lia return to her home, you were the one staying with Leah at night. And you kept taking her in her rehab and cooking for her.

The day Leah started to run again, you were at the training to watch her. This is the day where she officially asked you to move in with her now that she could do things alone again. Unless cooking maybe, but that’s another question.

You accepted of course and the blonde happily transformed one of her guest room in your studio of stream.

It’s where you are now, Leah peacefully setting on your living room, ready to go live with you.

“Oh, it looks like our guest is here” you smile when you see that Leah is connected too. “Hi Baby!”

You only said to your viewers that it was your girlfriend, without saying anything else. You are aware that maybe someone will recognize Leah’s voice, but it would be fun anyway.

“Hi Love” she answers.

You make a reminder of the game you were going to play, for her first live Leah chose a car games, Trackmania. It wasn’t your favorite game, but you were so happy that she said yes to you that you would have accept a Tetris game.

“How are you?” you ask her, while making the game ready.

“I’m fine. Happy to play with you tonight.”

“I am happy too” you smile before looking at the camera. “Let’s have her a good evening guys so she will accept to do it more often yeah?”

You hear Leah chuckle, and you can’t help but smile. You already are seeing comments saying that you look whipped, what makes you roll your eyes. It seems to you that Leah’s voice is a little different from what it is in reality, but maybe your mind is playing trick.

You play several runs with Leah, before switching to another game after talking with your chat who recommend to you to make Leah try an adventure RPG. When you look at the clock again, it’s past midnight.

“Oh wow I didn’t realize that it was already so late” you exclaimed yourself. “We are going to stop here guys, I’m sorry. Maybe next time we will try Minecraft or something else, I’ll let you know. I hope you had as fun as I had Babe.”

“It was really fun. Thank you for inviting me.”

You can hear Leah smile and you can’t wait to go to the living room for a cuddle and kiss session. When you played together until know, you were able to show each other or tease the other with kisses.

“You will be invited for more times” you smirk.

Leah left and you take the time to thanks your viewers a little more longer before logging off. You stretch, finishing your bottle of water before going to find Leah. You run on the stairs and Leah already knew you were coming before you jump on the couch next to her.

She laughs when you attack her with kisses all over her face, finishing on her lips.

“Did you really have fun?” you ask, looking at her with attention.

She nods, playing with your hair. She’s smiling and every time you look at her, you wonder how in the world you get so lucky. She’s perfect.

“I did” she smiles at you. “I’m not saying that I want to do that all the night every night, but it was great.”

“Mh I maybe have another idea for us to have fun all night” you smirk.

The tone of your voice is very obvious and if Leah had one doubt, she just has to look the way you are looking at her. Your fingers run on her tight and you kiss her one more time, before sucking slightly at her neck.

Leah gulp and just hums, tilting her head on the side for you to have a better access. You know what you are doing, after more than two years, you know Leah’s body and reactions like the back of your hand.

“Let’s go to bed” Leah decides several seconds after, taking your hand before dragging you in your bedroom on the first floor.

********

“It was a great session.”

You smile at Leah who came to your studio after you played together again. You were still sitting when she entered the room, and she passed her hand around your shoulder from behind to kiss your cheek.

“It was” you smile before turning your chair to face Leah.

She sits on your lap, and you pass your arms around her. It wasn’t the second time that you are playing together while you are streaming, today you chose Fifa and it was very fun. You made the pact not to play with Arsenal or England, but it was still very funny. Leah is a very bad looser, so you play several games in the same team too.

“People are starting to have some suspicion though” Leah says.

She was right, you saw on social media some things about your girlfriend being Leah. But it wasn’t the only name coming.

“Yeah, they said I will make a great couple with some of your teammates too” you shrug, before counting on your fingers “They are talking about Sabrina, Alessia, Kyra and Lia.”

Leah frown, not really liking the picture who comes in her mind.

“Nah. You’re mine.” she answers possessively.

“Do you want to tell people?”

Leah looks at you, thinking for several seconds before answering. This is lasting for some weeks now and you know that you can’t stay hidden forever. You attract the attention of the world by playing together.

“Not now. It’s fun like this, don’t you think?”

“It is” you confirm with a smile.

Leah has the habit to be coupled with every teammate and you are sometimes shipped with other streamers. You like to stream with other of them, certain being your friends too. There is nothing much, but that doesn’t stop people to imagine that you are dating one of them.

But you have to admit too that your stream with Leah attracts more people than usual, and you are a little scared that people will assume that you’re using your girlfriend for the views.

Your face being very close to Leah, she seems to realize very quickly that something is on your mind.

“What’s the matter?” she asks.

“Nothing” you say at first, before sighing. “Well, I mean… I already have some viewers saying that I’m using my girlfriend to gain more viewers, so I was wondering how they would react when they realize it’s you.”

You shrug to show her that it’s not really important, you don’t want to think you are worried about something so little.

“If someone say that you know what my answer will be?” Leah asks with a serious face.

“No” you mumble.

“I will tell them that we are together for two years, that you have been the best girlfriend in the world since. I will tell them how affectionate, caring, sweet, funny, clever and passionate you are.”

You can’t help but smile and feel your cheek being a little red at that statement. Leah smirks and kisses your cheek.

“And I’ll add that if you use me, it’s only in the bedroom and the way you do is actually very talented and also very private.”

You laugh this time, hitting her on the arm. Leah seems very happy about her joke, her eyes shinning with malice. She’s so beautiful. You bite her jaw before whispering.

“You’re such a dork.”

“The Nerd and the Dork, it would be a great book title” she smirks.

“You’re not totally wrong.”

********

“You’re cheating!”

You can’t help but laugh at Leah. You are playing once again against your girlfriend, during a live. You are playing at Mario Kart and you just won the race for the third time in a row. She’s fuming and even if you can’t see her, the noise coming from downstairs are letting you know that she’s actually kicking the ground right now.

“I’m not, Baby I swear. You can’t cheat in this game.”

“Yes, you are!”

You roll your eyes, not answering anything. You are of course very aware about of much your girlfriend hates to lose. You are at the first place while Leah is third, which is really good for someone who isn’t playing video games daily like you. But not for the great Leah Williamson.

“Someone in the comment is saying that I will sleep on the couch. I won’t Babe, right?”

“I’m not sure about it for now” Leah grumbles. “Or maybe I’ll go sleep to the trai…”

You cough suddenly and Leah stops talking, realizing what she was just about to say. You really hope that no one would understand what she was going to say. Or at least another end of sentence, not “training ground”.

“Alright, next game” you say right after.

“I’m gonna crush you.”

She doesn’t and when you join her in the kitchen after, she seems really embarrassed. You ignore the different messages asking what Leah wanted to say and the answer some of them gave. You saw that some people where right and you know that the research will start again.

“I’m so sorry” she says, coming for you while you’re entering the room. “I was fuming because I was losing, and I forgot for some seconds that it wasn’t only you and me.”

You smile, easily passing your arms around her to give her a hug. She cuddles against you when you kiss her temple.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. Plus, you are the most famous between the both of us, you will be the most annoyed by all that.”

“Why would I be annoyed?”

Leah back up her head a little bit, just to be able to have a better look at your face. You arch an eyebrow before answering.

“Because you always told me you want privacy.”

It was in the early hours of your relationship, and you never said anything against it. You understood Leah’s needs, at this time you weren’t as famous as you are right now. She wanted to be known for her skills, her job in football or her implications in different charities. And the point was very easy for you to be understood. Your friends are families know obviously about you two, it would be strange and difficult to hide a relationship when you live together. Plus because of her answer last time you talked about it, you were really sure that it was what she want.

“I told you that at first, but now I wouldn’t mind if people start to know about us.”

She shrugs like it’s nothing, but your mind just blown. You were used to the idea of people stay in the ignorance about your relationship and the love you have for this woman. As long as you have her, why would you complain?

“Do you… Really?” you frown.

“Yeah, I mean if you don’t want to be out…”

“No, I do. I just thought that you would like to stay private for like forever?”

“I love you. I want the world to know how happy you make me. But in several weeks. I want to play with your fans a little more.”

“Sounds good to me” you smirk. “And I love you too.”

********

For the next weeks, you chose one day of the week to play and stream with Leah. Between those days, you were careful to post some things on social media, giving little clues to your followers about the identity of your girlfriend. You never posted something with Leah or even with a part of her hand or hair. It was more subtle than that.

Until one day, where you were peacefully streaming while Leah went out with her friends. You usually go with her, but today it was more an unexpected drink, so you already have something planned on your channel. You have an entire trust in Leah, and you know that nothing would ever happen with anyone. If you go with her almost every time, it’s only to have a great time with her.

Plus, tonight she’s out with Katie, Caitlin, Steph, her boyfriend, and Kyra, so there are really no risks.

You usually wait for Leah to text you that she was coming home to cut your stream, so you have the time to finish what you are doing and say goodbye to your viewers. Tonight though, either you didn’t see her message, or she forgot to send it to you.

Still, there is suddenly a stunning blonde who enters your studio, showing herself in the camera at the same time. You are so surprised that you only can look at her on the screen of your camera.

“Hello Hot stuff! You won’t believe what I just learned about Kyra! Did you k- … Oh shit.”

That’s the moment she realizes. It was almost comical to be honest, the enthusiastic tone with which she began her sentence, the moment of silence and the last words spoken in a low voice.

You only have like two seconds to decide if you want to cut the stream and never talk about it again, or if it’s time to be honest with everyone. You chose a third way and turn to the camera.

“Well it’s time for me to say goodbye. See you tomorrow at eight. Thanks for being here!”

You wave and cut the stream and the camera before turning in Leah’s direction. She seems amused but she has at the same time the same look on the face of a teenager caught doing something wrong.

“Funny way to outing things, this clip will be viral” you comment with a small smile.

“I’m sorry?”

Leah can’t hide her smile and you can’t either. You can be mad at her for something like that. You let Leah comes to sit on your lap, kissing her softly when she’s settled. She taste like tequila.

“How was your night?”

“Great. But I missed you.”

She hides her face in your neck, and you feel the goosebumps forming when her breath stroke your skin.

“Did you have fun?”

She hums, start to kiss your neck and you know that the discussion you were supposed to have right now is delayed for now. You will have a lot of time to talk about it later. Your phones are way too busy receiving tons notifications to be able to do anything with it right now anyway.

********

YourInstagram and LeahWilliamson

liked by liawalti, leahwilliamson, alessia, bethmead and 199,937 others

YourInstagram Two years and a half with this dork. I love you ❤️🤍

comments have been limited

leahwilliamson I love you more my Nerd ❤️🤍

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x you #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader

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deadsetobsessions · 10 days

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Alley Drunk!Danny pt.5

If Danny hadn’t thought about quitting and going to rehab before, he’s definitely going to do it now.

It had been one of those days. Danny had sluggishly managed to usher Jason to school- pulling himself together for their walk to the building, because he wasn’t stupid and this was still Gotham- before going home and relapsing. He knew, going into the first bottle, that he was going to regret it. But he still hadn’t felt the buzz, so he went out to get more.

“Just one. I can stop after, if I want to.”

Spoiler: he could not, actually, stop if he wanted to. Because he didn’t want to, which was the whole problem.

So, one bottle became two, two became three, three became six, and by the time the sun slipped below the horizon, Danny had a pile of bottles scattered around the couch and an intense look of self hatred set upon his brow. He was buzzed, but his stupid ghost biology refused to absorb anymore alcohol.

“Stop brooding, Danny. It’ll hurt your brain.” Jazz said, a hint of worry around her joking insult. “You’re forgetting something important.”

“Wha-?” He mumbled out back at the haze of her-hah- ghost.

The door clicked open. Danny whipped his head to wards the door, snarl on his face and ready to lunge at the intruder, when he came face to face with a scuffed up Jason.

They froze simultaneously, but before Danny could do anything, Jason’s hands tightened on the door knob. The kid’s eyes darted to the floor, where the bottles laid, and back up at Danny’s face. What he found there must not have been good, because he took a step back.

It was fear.

Danny felt his heart drop and his throat go dry. The self hatred doubled in size and weight, but he smacked it down in favor of scrambling for the words- anything- to fix the damage his stupidity and addiction caused.

“Jason.” He said, voice raspy. Had he been screaming again? Good start, good- nope. Never mind, Jason is using the door to shield himself now. Danny glanced outside and-

“Oh. I- I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” He turned back to Jason, who eyed him warily. “I- I forgot to pick you, didn’t I.”

“…I can walk back by myself.” The hesitant but full of bravado reply made Danny’s ghostly obsession to protect rear its head.

“Still. I’m… I’m sorry, Jason.”

Jason evaluated him, noticeably eyeing his open hands and purposefully lax posture, before stepping inside. He doesn’t close the door behind him- clearly leaving it as an option just in case he needed to bolt. Danny stood up slowly. Jason watched him, and his hands. His smaller hands- Ancients, Danny was scaring a kid- curled up into fists.

“What… how did you get hurt?”

“Got mugged.”

“Are you okay? No- wait,” Danny flooded his liver and blood stream with ectoplasm, and his head instantly cleared. Ah, the agony of being coherent.

Danny subtly shook his head to clear his thoughts. Focus.

“Of course you’re not.” Danny stepped away from the incriminating bottles, slowing to a stop once more as Jason shifted backwards like he was either going to spring at Danny or bolt out the door. “Why don’t we get you patched up? And you can tell me about your day. That I missed, when I forgot to pick you up and that I’m really really sorry for.”

Danny held his breath as Jason considered it. “Are ya drunk?” Jason asked, tilting his shoulder to slide his Wonder Woman backpack down, hand clutching at the opposite strap. A good bludgeoning weapon, even if Danny would rather be electro shocked to death again before he ever hurt Jason.

“No.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he looked down again. Danny recognized the motion, a bolt of heavy nostalgia slamming into his chest as he remembered another red-head doing the same thing when he tried to bullshit his way out of something.

“I was buzzed but… I’m a meta. Alcohol doesn’t exactly affect me. I had to drink a lot to even get buzzed, and it’s gone now.”

“Y’er a meta?” Jason straightened, not completely losing the vigilance, but less tense.

“Yes. I’m completely sober right now, I promise.”

Jason stared at him, inhaled, and relaxed. “You better be.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Whatever.”

——

Danny placed the bandages over Jason’s cuts.

“I am so, so sorry I didn’t pick you up.”

Jason shoved at his shoulder, grumbling “I c’n do it myself.”

“I know. You don’t have to, though.”

The kid looked away for a moment before softly admitting, “I was… worried. Cuz, I thought somethin’ happened.”

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat. Jason slipped more into his alley accent the more upset he got these days, having learned some of the local accents at his new school and regularly swapping those out instead of sticking with his alley accent.

“Thank you. For worrying about me. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

Point. From the mouth of babes came the painful truth, right?

“No. I’m not. But I will be. I’ll go to rehab, Jason. I don’t want to forget picking you up again.”

“Whatever.” Danny hid a smile as Jason ducked his head, looking endearingly like a grumpy duckling. Like, Jazz, when their parents made those blueberry ectoplasm pancakes she liked but thought they’d forgotten that she liked.

“And thank you, Jason, for coming back alive. I- I should have been there, but I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

“I want waffles and ice cream for dinner.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“Wow, you musta felt real bad if you’re letting me eat that for dinner.”

Danny grinned down at the head of black hair (with their red roots once more poking out) and ruffled Jason’s head. “I let you eat like five chili dogs in one go. This should not be surprising. But I’ll let you skip the veggies today too.”

“… No, I want the veggies too.”

Danny let out a bark of bright laughter.

Yeah, there’s no way he’s ever risking Jason looking at him like that again. The kid looked like he thought Danny would come swinging at him, despite their previous meetings where he had, perhaps and with plausible deniability, swung for Jason, but never against him.

That night, after he tucked Jason into bed, Danny signed up for rehab. As a matter of fact, Jazz’s words coming into mind, Danny also signed up for therapy. For him and Jason. Yeah.

——

Off camera, they talked about why Jason react to bottles and hands the way he does, and why he’s so scared whenever Danny slips back into his addiction. I’m just rlly too tired to write it.

——

Danny, who thought his addiction wasn’t that serious and that he could stop anytime because he stopped for Jason: I’m cured!

Also Danny: drinks as soon as Jason goes to school

Danny was one hundred percent using Jason as a crutch and when he felt like Jason was safe, he slipped back to his habits. The only reason Danny’s not dead- well, deader than he normally would be- is because ghost biology makes it so that alcohol is cycled through quicker. Like the Flash, but less fast? Anyways, he had enough to make him lose track of time and forget important things (Jason) and that’s what addiction can do to you, amongst other things.

Jason might seem calm but that’s actually a combo of his go to trauma response (fight) and his experience of 1) being on the streets and 2) living with a previous drunkard coming into play. Also, you might be like what kind of kid wants to eat veggies? And to that I answer: KIDS THAT NEVER HAD ENOUGH TO EAT. I would have killed for a veggie stir fry with a lot of chicken back as a kid lol

On a lighter note, the whole time they’re having this interaction, I kind of imagined it as two chickens just kind of dancing around each other.

#Danny Phantom #dcxdp #dpxdc #Jason Todd #alley drunk! danny au #Danny making one (1) good decision #danny: hmm perhaps Jazz had a point #also Danny: I don’t need therapy but Jason might #get therapy if you can y’all #tw: alcholism #tw: implied abuse #but like in Jason’s past #Jazz Fenton #Jazz Fenton ironically haunting Danny from her grave

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little-pondhead · 1 year

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Some fic because I love your au, Fenton is gender brainrot, and little baby dan cracks me up. Full disclosure, my only familiarity with DC is DP crossover fanfic, and a Batman movie I fell asleep during. (If I had a better grasp on the characters I would totally write more :(( i love interactions) also sorry for the weird spacing. Idk why tumblr did that

~~~~~~~~

There was an empty cardboard box on the table of the Justice League’s main conference room. Taped on the top flap, next to a doodle of Fenton’s logo, was a jump drive.

Heaving a sigh, Batman plugged it in and pulled up his screen on the projector. The drive, which was named “little baby dan’s evil playtime”, contained two files; WATCH_ME_FIRST.mp4 and its-a-secreeeet.pdf. He clicked on the video file, and immediately the projector filled with a blurry close-up of Fenton’s goggles.

After a moment of fiddling with the camera, Fenton stepped back, giving a cheery wave. His lab coat and goggles were a pastel pink, which was new. “Heeeeya, Bats! Whoever else is there! If you’re watching this, you probably weren’t there when I dropped the box off, aaand it’s probably empty.”

He clapped his hands together gleefully. “And Connie, if you’re there, this is payback for cussing around my daughter.” Batman was instantly relieved that Constantine wasn’t on base. Hopefully the situation wouldn’t require Constantine’s expertise. (Or any of the Justice League Dark. Fenton seemed determined to drive them all to an early grave with his casual refusal to acknowledge the supernatural air around him.)

“Now, as you’re all heroes, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the whole,” Fenton paused for a moment, as if searching for the proper words. “”You ate a burger on a Tuesday or something equally inane, and it kickstarted a series of events that led to you going insane and evil and murdering 95% of the Earth’s population and now you must fight your evil alternate self, because your time-controlling cryptid Peepaw said so,” shtick, so I’ll skip the backstory. Say hi to Dan!” Fenton grabbed the camera, and Batman quickly jotted down several notes about the concerning number of things the boy had just said.

The camera swiveled around to show Nightingale, holding a strange beast in a manner that reminded Batman of an “elongated cat meme” Nightwing had shown him when he was still a Robin. The creature bared a maw full of razor sharp fangs at the camera. Nightingale adjusted her grip to hold the creature’s paw and make it wave, which evoked a deep growl.

“Haha, he’d kill me if I did that. Dan likes Nightingale much more than he likes me.”

“Because the worst she has ever done is attempt to shoot me.”

The camera had moved, so Batman couldn’t visually confirm that the deep voice had come from the creature, but the voice didn’t match any of Fenton’s previously revealed companions. “Yeah yeah, her aim sucked back then.” Fenton gave the camera a toothy grin that was only slightly less unnerving than the creature’s. “Dan’s not technically me, he’s much more like Dani, actually, but the world would probably end again if we left him with his other... What did you call him?” Fenton glanced offscreen.

“Bane of my accursed existence.”

Fenton chucked. “The other half responsible for his existence.” Batman added more notes to his file. “So, yeah, Clocky left him with us for a bit to help along his rehab. But a certain psychologist-in-training I know says that repressing rage isn’t healthy, and even without a lot of his powers, he can wipe out most of a city in- what, an hour? We tested it. It was around an hour.”

Everyone present shared a look of deep concern. As if able to see their reaction, Fenton quickly held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry! Clocky reset it. Approximately zero people have died from Dan in this timeline.”

“Yet.” Came a furious rumble from off-screen.

“Yes, you’re very scary.” They heard Nightingale coo.

Fenton laughed. “Yeah, we need him- and all of you, -out of our hair for a bit while we concoct more evil plans, and you’re all the least likely to die to him, so you get to babysit! Thanks!”

He reached to shut off the camera before pausing and turning away. “Foley! Which of the furries is the one who really likes animals?”

“Man, do you realize how that sounds out of context?” Foley laughed. “I think Tim said it’s the little one. Damian?”

Fenton nodded and turned back to the camera. “Don’t let Damian try to adopt Dan. Or anyone. Dan will bite their hands off. I mean it!” To emphasize his point, he removed one of his hands.

Batman sighed and added “ability to remove limbs” to a list of Fenton’s powers.

“I’ll include a list of “tasks”” Fenton’s disembodied hand made finger quotes, “we gave Dan to keep him occupied. There’s some at the bottom for you guys. They’re mostly just blatant abuse of his powers for the sake of fun and science. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him mark things off the list and add notes on how it goes. Or you can do it. Or I can steal your cameras. Your choice.”

He thought for a second. “I think you’re supposed to leave, like, pizza money or something, but I don’t think you can get pizza delivered to space. Anyway, thanks for letting me blab your ears off while Dan’s probably committing war crimes for twelve minutes. For your sake, I hope he inherited my interest in space. Good luck! Thanks for babysitting!”

Waving with his still detached hand, Fenton ended the video. Batman closed it and opened the PDF as the few other members present murmured amongst themselves. Most of the pages were filled with a curling script Batman didn’t recognize. The fourth page had a huge, bolded header, reading JP TASKS.

The door opened and shut in half a second as the Flash burst in. “Superman!” The speedster wailed. “I can’t get this thing off of me!”

The Flash waved his arm around, sending small droplets of blood flying as he tried to dislodge the creature sinking his teeth into the speedster’s arm. Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his cowl as Superman quickly lent his super strength in attempt to pry the creature’s jaw open. Dan didn’t budge.

Well, he could certainly see the family resemblance been Fenton, Dani, and Dan. Shaking his head, he turned back to the list.

Task 1: Find Dan. He’s probably attacking someone.

He highlighted the text and crossed it out. This was going to be a long shift.

[Anon, this is me crying over the wonderful gift you have given me. You bastard.]

---

"Do you think Fenton's regeneration powers extend to his..." Green Lantern frowned, trying to remember the word the kid had used but coming up blank. "I dunno. But do you think if we cut off little Dan here, he'll heal back up with no problem?" He gestured helplessly to the scene in front of him. Flash was still screeching about the beast on his arm, and now Superman and Wonder Woman were trying to pry him off. Batman was standing to the side, silently bemoaning the lack of quiet. He just wanted one peaceful shift. Just one. Please.

"I'd like to see you try, hero. And I'm not little." Dan spoke, startling all of them. His grip on Flash's arm tightened, making the speedster squeal before releasing the man and spitting out a mouthful of his blood. Batman noticed that his mouth didn't move despite the clearly spoken words. In fact, when Dan closed his mouth, it was like he didn't have one at all.

"So you do speak!" Superman marveled.

"Of course I do. I am not unintelligent, unlike you lot."

Despite his pain, Flash still made sounds of protest that everyone promptly ignored.

Superman flushed. "I just wasn't sure. It was hard to tell in the video."

"Ah, yes. The video that the Fenton menace sent you. Was there a note for me in the flash drive?"

"Uh, no." In one of his less finer moments, Green Lantern stuttered over his words and moved in front of Batman, obviously lying. Dan merely growled and flew through both men, heading straight for the giant monitor. Batman barely suppressed a shiver. Density shifting? Might as well add it to the list. He could see Martian Manhunter, who was in the back of the room, tilt his head at the display.

Dan ignored the room as he used his entire body to manipulate the computer mouse and scrolled back up to the top of the page. Staring intently at the scribbles no one could make out, the heroes could do nothing but shoot each other nervous and confused glances. More than a few of them jumped when Dan chuckled deeply. Honestly, his tiny body was at complete odds with his baritone voice.

"Maybe rehab will be fun if he's letting me do this." Dan sneered, flashing their reflections a sharp fang. No one wanted to ask what exactly he was in rehab for. The little beast turned his gaze to Batman. "You are the one called Batman, who rules the cursed city, correct?" The dark hero nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. "Excellent. You will be my chaperone for now, just as Fenton decreed it. Good luck, mortal man. Pray, I do not destroy your home a second time."

Without any time to unpack that conversation, Dan promptly disappeared from view. Some blinking text caught his attention, and Batman scrolled back down to the English text, glancing at the next few items on the list.

Task 2: Do not let Dan read his portion of this letter until you have a way to track him. There is no containing him.

Task 3: Keep him with a chaperone at all times. (If you can)

Task 4: Do not let Dan back into Gotham unless you're fine with a sudden decrease in the clown population.

Task 5: Take him for a walk in Death Valley. He likes hunting lizards.

Task 6: Make sure he goes down for his 2pm nap every day.

Task 7: He'll ask for it, but do not give him any burgers for mealtime. It upsets his stomach.

Task 8: Dan gets ONE(1) sweet after dinner before brushing his teeth. Those green pop rocks Batman always carries will do fine; he likes those. :)

A sudden alarm blared from his wristwatch, making Batman tear his eyes away from the screen, indicating an emergency at Arkham. This time, Batman actually sighed out loud. There was more to the list, but right now, he really needed to find their new charge before he killed the Joker, from the sound of it.

#pondhead replies #anon let me kiss you on the mouth (platonically)#danny phantom #little baby man danny #except he's dan #supervillain danny au #god i can't get the elongated cat meme image out of my head #you are a genius #if you didn't catch it gotham was the city he destroyed #what did fenton tell him to do you ask?#well dan is very good at hunting #causing chaos and bringing certain peoples to justice all over the world #like a reverse santa #he also gave dan permission to go buck wild on the joker if batman brought him to gotham #if batman didn't STOP his escape to gotham #that counts right?#long post #dpxdc

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katsuizu-stuff · 5 days

Text

Keep your eyes on me! - Katsuki Bakugo

The doctor says Katsuki would need a robotic limb to continue being a hero.

Katsuki refuses because of his quirk so he is going to do rehab

This much is understandable, but for some odd reason he mentions that Izuku has no quirk at all now. Want to know why?

Katsuki is crying because he’s sad that Izuku will go back to being quirkless after said embers are gone

Izuku will be quirkless AGAIN!

REMINDER! Katsuki is Izuku’s image of victory

Wow! You’re so lucky! Your quirk is amazing Kacchan! When I get mine I hope it’ll be just as cool -Izuku Midoriya

KATSUKI WANTS TO CONTINUE BEING IZUKU’S HERO!

That’s why Katsuki wants to do rehab, which is why he mentions Izuku being quirkless

#katsuki bakugo wants to continue being izuku’s hero #katsuki bakugo #izuku midoriya #bkdk #bakudeku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha 424

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cvrnelians · 1 year

Text

smile like you mean it - chapter five

You knew filing for divorce would be no easy feat. But filing for divorce from Roman Roy?

"No easy feat” might as well have been synonymous with “impossible."

warnings: drug use, alcoholism, miscarriage, Roman and the rest of the Roy family being awful.

chapters 1-3 // chapter four

music

chapter five

10 ways to get someone to like you: A foolproof guide

If you want to be liked, be likable.

Roman scowled and slammed his laptop shut, carelessly tossing it to the end of the bed.

“What a stupid fucking article.”

He got up and stretched, his limbs still rigid from a heavy sleep. If there was anything positive to come out of the complete and utter shitshow that was the day before, a good night’s sleep took the cake. Rest was something Roman didn’t get a whole lot of lately, but when he did sleep, he slept hard.

Prior to becoming COO of Waystar Royco, he had always been a heavy sleeper. It wasn’t unusual for him to get eight hours of shuteye even after napping all day. He had a copious amount of (not-so-fond) childhood memories in which Connor, Kendall, and Shiv jumped on his bed in order to wake him up. They often had to hit him with pillows and shake him to the point of nausea to get him to finally open his eyes.

Well, they didn’t really have to.

There were a small handful of differences between now and then.

Although he would never admit it, his job was a big source of stress for him. The most pathetic thing about it? Most days he didn’t accomplish even twenty five percent of what his colleagues did. And what he was able to do completely exhausted him. It was a lot to live up to, being the inheritor—and now a figurehead—of a monster he hadn’t created; a monster he wasn’t even sure he wanted to keep feeding.

Another major difference between now and then was that Kendall no longer needed to shake him from a dead sleep in order to make him feel nauseous. All it really took was watching him walk into your room in the middle of the night, casual as could be, to put Roman into a not-so-ideal headspace.

“Acting like he was reuniting with an old friend or some shit,” he mumbled under his breath. He got into the shower, his mind going a million miles a minute as he continued talking to himself. “I’m Kendall,” he mocked. “I’m better than everyone now, didn’t you know? I went to rehab. I drink green juice. I’ve read The Secret. I don’t have stress anymore because I never see my own children. Look how stable I am now.”

This was the one downside of being so well-rested. His brain actually lived up to its potential. His mind simply refused to slow down. No matter how hard he willed himself not to think of you, he only thought about you that much more. Not that this was all that different from any other day. Roman thought about you all the time, sleep deprived or not.

He liked you. Okay? Even with your cheap clothes and your shitty attitude and your refusal to sit next to him in the car, he had some…feelings when it came to you.

Ew.

He hated it when you were upset with him, and he hated it even more when you weren’t around.

From the first time he saw you, he liked you. A lot, actually.

Roman liked you a lot.

He had gone to your room the night before to say he was sorry discuss how hypersensitive you were being in response to the hilarious things he said, but he stopped short in the doorway.

As it turned out, you were busy. So as any gentleman would, Roman said fuck that noise and booked it back to his room. That was the second time you made him run that day, you little jerk.

He wondered if he should take bearing witness to that stomach-turning embrace between you and Kendall as a sign. Perhaps he should never apologize to anyone, for any reason, ever again. Not even to those who deserved an apology. Not even to you. If that was what he got for trying to be the bigger person, having to watch his stormcloud of an older brother get what he wanted without even having to try, well…what was the point?

“Likable. Likable? What does that even mean?” he asked himself.

Why would the author of that article automatically assume the people reading it were the unlikable ones? What kind of introduction was that? Why should he have to shoulder the responsibility of someone not liking him? Why should he have to do all this work to win you over? Why was he even worried about it? You should be the one trying to get into his good graces. You should be the one typing stupid questions into Google at seven o’ clock in the morning, not him. It didn’t matter that he called you a run-of-the-mill, ladder climbing, H&M wearing plebeian (or a coffee gopher). It didn’t matter that he had driven you to the brink of a full blown mental breakdown under his tenure. It didn’t matter that knowing he was the one that made you cry felt like a punch to the gut.

...which didn't even turn him on, by the way.

None of it mattered. He shouldn’t have to apologize for a thing. You were obviously sleeping with Kendall. Kendall! Even if you weren’t working for him, sleeping with Kendall would still put you in the wrong in any context. You were trying so desperately to make Roman believe he was the problem, just as everyone else did. You little gaslighter.

You weren’t seriously going to leave over a couple of little insults, right?

Right?

He was so distracted by his own thoughts, he somehow managed to get a concerning amount of shampoo in his eyes.

“Ow, FUCK!”

Following five stressful minutes of washing his eyes out (or trying to, anyway), he slumped over and held his hands over his face, allowing the water to run directly over his head. He could still picture you crying on the plane, which he had been doing on a loop for the past several hours. He could concede that he came off a little unpleasant at times, but it was more of a defense mechanism than anything. Deep down, Roman knew he didn’t take anyone seriously simply because no one else took him seriously. But you had wanted to be taken seriously, and did everything to earn that.

You were having some relatively fun banter prior to the moment he turned on you like a feral dog. When he was finished with his cutting little monologue, you looked like you had been slapped. Seeing you so upset and proceeding to mock you for it…

Ugh.

This was not uncharacteristic of Roman, but it wasn't necessarily his proudest moment, either. It made him sick to his stomach, as a matter of fact.

A lot of things about the past few days made him sick to his stomach.

He could remember having a similar feeling from when he was growing up. Everything would be fine and dandy until he would say or do one little thing to set Logan off, and then bam:

First came the hurt, then came the ridicule.

“Oh, you’re crying now? You’re crying? Why don’t you just go tell Kendall about it? I’m sure he’d love nothing more.”

Roman cringed at his own words.

First came the hurt, then came the ridicule.

And then he was alone.

If you want to be liked, be likable.

He would never say it to you directly, but if he could, he would.

"I’m sorry I made you so sad."

☽

“You have no idea how things will turn out, and it’s very juvenile. It’s fucking dumb. You’re being dumb!”

You cringed as Kendall’s words bounced around in your head.

Last night had been very interesting, to say the least.

For several hours now, you lay flat on your back, slipping in and out of a restless sleep. When you did become lucid, you simply stared up at the impossibly tall vaulted ceiling. It was painted and preserved beautifully, gold borders encasing rich shades of red and blue. You reached your arm up, pretending to trace and retrace the intricate patterns with your fingers. Exhausted yet unable to sleep, you needed something mindless and soothing to wind yourself down.

Sadly, your efforts were to no avail. Your mind was still racing, hyper focused on what transpired the night before. It was jarring to think that just a simple “so, how have you been?” from Kendall would open a Pandora's box you had no clue even existed. You didn’t have much time to concentrate on it, though. At that moment, two things happened at once.

You felt a stab of panic as you received a notification that your flight was now boarding. You couldn’t believe it. You had missed your flight. You had dissociated to the point of having missed your flight. And before you could even sit up, you were startled by a loud banging noise against your door. It sounded like someone was ramming something into it full force. You weren't even sure who you were hoping not to see at this point.

Not since Kendall went absolutely ballistic on you.

“Knock, knock!” a familiar voice yelled. He didn’t bother actually knocking, nor did he wait for you to respond. He probably thought the unpleasant crash was sufficient enough.

You were almost relieved.

Enter one Roman Roy.

But he wasn’t alone. In front of him was the culprit, the battering ram that nearly gave you a heart attack, in the form of a large metal breakfast cart. If that wasn’t bizarre enough, he was dressed in athletic wear. He looked out of place in such a grandiose room, like you were playing a beginner’s version of “I Spy.”

I spy with my little eye something reprehensible.

“Here comes the breakfast fairy,” he said in an awkward, singsong voice. He slowly rolled the unsteady cart towards you. “Here to um…y’know. Bring you breakfast. Breakfast just for you.”

A wheel broke off as he made his way over, making coffee spill onto the tray. He cursed as he shakily lifted the tray up off the cart and reached over to hand it to you. You gawked at him. “Okay, that’s what I get for saying that. That was fucking stupid. I didn’t say that. You don’t remember me saying that.”

“You brought me breakfast?”

“It would appear so,” he said cheerfully. “Like a good boy.”

“I missed my flight,” you blurted out awkwardly.

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath before reverting back to his typically rude delivery. “Yeah, not my problem. Can you please just take the tray? It’s really heavy.”

“I missed my flight,” you repeated.

He ignored you and slowly set the tray on your lap. He lifted the lid to reveal a pretty solid breakfast as far as you were concerned: a single poptart and two comically large cups of coffee. One was black, the other a latte with a poorly drawn happy face carved into the foam. You would have laughed if you weren’t so stressed out. All of this buildup for a lone pastry and an alarming amount of coffee.

“Where’s the second poptart?”

“I ate it. Obviously. Don’t be ungrateful,” he snapped. “You like wildberry, right? You seem like you would like wildberry. A little fun, a little different. Spice up your life, or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, breaking the poptart into several pieces before taking a bite. “You could have the most elaborate breakfast in the world, and yet you’d prefer to have this?”

“What? I may be rich but that doesn’t mean I like exclusively rich people things. Have you seen rich people food? I mean, probably not but…”

You tentatively picked up the latte. “Did you poison this? Did you spit in this?”

“Hah, you wish.”

“I wish?”

“I mean, I can if you’d like,” he said, leaning towards you.

“No!” you yelled, making him wince. You lowered your voice. “Sorry, no. I think I’m alright.”

He reached down to pick up the other mug. “This one's for meee.”

“Of course it is.”

He gasped, cradling the side of his face with his palm in mock excitement. “Uh oh. I have an idea. Do you want to spit in mine?”

“I hate this conversation," you sighed. "You’d probably be into that, so I’m gonna say no.”

“Well, how do you know for sure that the cool one is yours?”

You shrugged. “Because I’m cool.”

“You sure about that?”

“And I know you like your coffee black.”

“Touché,” he said, leaning against the wall across from your bed. You both drank your coffee in silence for a few moments.

“Did you bring this from home?” you asked, pointing to the poptart.

“No. I made that lanky muppet go buy me a box.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wh...Wait, are you talking about Greg?”

“Yeah, I figured I would send Gumby on a little errand since I apparently can’t do that with you anymore. Since you’re—” he made air quotes with his fingers—“quitting.”

“Wait, does he even know how to drive in the UK? How did he even get to a store? We’re miles from—”

“I told him I would make him sleep outside if he didn’t figure out a way to score me some. I have no clue how he got all the way out into the city so fast. Can you believe that? Being tall does have its perks, I guess. His strides had him moving at the speed of light, apparently.”

You gawked at him again, horrified.

Poor, poor Greg.

You dropped the remaining pieces of the poptart on your plate. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Oh come on, it’s funny. Don’t let his efforts be in vain.” He took a big gulp of coffee. “Anyway. I was thinking...”

“Why are you dressed like that?” you asked.

“Like what?”

“Like a fitness influencer.”

“I was getting to that. Don’t interrupt me.”

You leaned your head back and groaned.

“Okay, drama. Calm down. We’re all supposed to go golfing this morning, but I hate golf. I'm pretty sure you do, too. You told me once. So I thought maybe we could, like. I don’t know. Pretend to go for a run like we usually do? Talk? Only if it’s not going to cut into your busy schedule, of course. Ms. Newly Unemployed.”

“Roman, what could you possibly want to talk about? If you’re going to try and convince me to stay, don’t waste your time.”

“I was thinking we could get to know each other, at least a little bit. That way, I would know what to put in your reference letter when you blow this popsicle stand.”

“Yeah. Like you would write the letter yourself,” you mused. "Like you even could. You can't even reply to an email in a timely manner."

“Hey!”

“Fine. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. Like I said, I missed my flight and am feeling like a total idiot. Bet you’re really getting off on that one.”

He stared at you for a few seconds, like he was thinking carefully about what to say next.

“What?” you asked.

He sighed. “I’m not getting off on it as much as you might think.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t know how you perceive me exactly, but I have a general idea. And I know this might come as a shock, but like I said, I’m really not that bad. I mean, okay. I am. I am. But not in every situation, not always. I’ll have you know, I do have my moments.”

“Yeah? When?”

“Right now, maybe? Look, I brough—”

“Brought me breakfast. Yeah. I can see that.”

“Which I still haven’t gotten a proper thank you for, by the way.”

“I’ll give you a proper thank you when you give me a proper apology.”

“Fine. Okay, I’m sorry I was a little unreasonable with you yesterday. I’m sorry I, uh…manhandled you when we were getting into the car. Or tried to. Like, really, really tried.You’re pretty strong, you know that?”

“Is that all?” you asked, cocking your head to one side.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about you and Kendall. And calling you names. I didn’t mean it. That about covers it, right?”

“And?”

“...being a dick?”

You considered not even bringing it up, but since you decided to quit your job, you simply did not care anymore.

“Aren’t you sorry that you lied to me?”

“Wait, what?” he asked, on the verge of laughter. “I didn’t lie to you. Lie to you about what?”

Your conversation with Kendall rang loud and clear in your ears.

“It’s so good to see you. I wish you could’ve been on the flight with us, but I know you got held up. Work comes first.”

Work comes first? What did that have to do with there not being enough seats on the jet?

“Got held up?”

“Yeah, Roman told us you guys were swamped.”

“I…I mean, yeah. I’m always busy, but we flew separately because Roman told me there wasn’t enough room on the plane for us.”

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

“Yeah, he said there were some issues with the seats. A few of them needed to be repaired, so there wasn’t enough space for everyone.”

“Are you…oh my god,” Kendall scoffed. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Ken, I don’t—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Roman, why did we fly here separate from everybody else?”

Roman choked on his coffee, making him stop to clear his throat. “I already told you, there wasn’t enough space for our sparkling personalities on Dad's favorite plane.”

“Not enough space?”

“Yep.”

“You sure about that?”

“Look, no matter what evocative bullshit you send my way this morning, you can’t change my mind. I’ve already decided. I want to make things up to you. So, if you’re upset that I maybe told a little white lie, I’m sorry.”

“So you did lie, then?”

He eyed you sheepishly.

“Sort of. How did you figure it out?"

“I don’t get it. Of all things, why would you lie about that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it had something to do with me not wanting to hang out with my family in a torture chamber for hours? What if we crashed? You think I wanna die surrounded by a bunch of scorpions?”

“They’re your family!”

“Unfortunately."

“If the two of us crashed together, you’d have died alongside someone that doesn’t even like you. How is that more appealing?”

"Oh, how you wound me," he said flatly. “That may be so, but you don’t annoy me. Not to mention, you only sting me if I sting you first. It’s refreshing.”

You didn’t have the mental bandwidth to analyze that one this morning.

“Alright, fine. But your apology tour isn’t quite over yet.”

“You do know I don’t have to apologize to you at all, don’t you? You’re leaving. You’re basically nothing to me.”

“And yet, here you are.”

“What can I say? I’m just such a nice guy.”

You both stared at each other for a second before launching into hysterics.

Roman sighed as you both attempted to stop cackling. “You know this is the most you’ve smiled at me in…like, ever? Is that poptart really that good?”

“I just feel relieved is all.”

“And why is that?”

“Why do you think?” you asked. "I'm finally freeing myself from your reign of tyranny."

"Do you really hate me that much?" he asked, setting down his mug. “We have fun sometimes, don't we? I mean, we got into a blowout argument yesterday and now we're totally fine. Even when we argue, I still don't feel like we're enemies. And believe me, I have a lot of those. Are you sure you want to leave?”

The way he was looking at you was truthfully making you a little sad. But as per usual, he wasn't thinking logically. You were practically attached at the hip every day. Of course there was some level of familiarity between the two of you, even amidst all the chaos. It was easy to mistake for friendship, given how often you were in communication, given how much you did for him. But that was your job.

You had to stop yourself from smiling.

Not anymore, it wasn't.

“Roman, the way we communicate is super dysfunctional. You’ve made me cry multiple times. Yes, I’m sure I want to leave.”

“Ugh," he groaned. "Okay. Look, as far as I'm concerned, you're king shit of fuck mountain right now."

"Excuse me, what?" you laughed.

"What you say goes. Pick a number, I'll increase your salary. Lay out some ground rules. I'm not the most ethically sound person in the world, but I do know how to compromise when it comes to doing what's best for business. And you're probably the only person who can tolerate me, so."

"Roman, I don't think I can come back from yesterday. That was way, way too much. But it's not just you. Last nigh—"

"I was wrong," he interrupted you. "I usually am. Shocker. But here's the thing: you're kind of like...invaluable, to me?" It came out as more of a reluctant question than a statement. His voice was shaky and small as he continued on. "You've, um...helped me a lot. In more ways than one. And I don't want you quitting and just going to work for Kendall again, because I don't really trust him."

"Roman, I can assure you that is not something you will ever have to worry about. Last nigh—"

"Just don't go, please."

You would've been more annoyed with him constantly interrupting you if his voice didn't sound so pitiful, if he didn't look so pitiful. You were caught off guard by the groveling. Not necessarily put off by it, but certainly surprised. This was possibly the most vulnerable you had ever seen him. And the whole breakfast thing; since when did Roman go out of his way to do something deliberately nice for you? It was very obviously to serve his own purposes. He didn't want you to quit, but it didn't seem to come from a bad place.

You had observed him for a second too long, it seemed. He cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure. Just like his kindness, Roman's willingness to be vulnerable also had a very short shelf life.

"If you expect another apology, you can fuck off. And I know you do expect one. But don't actually fuck off, you know what I mean? Out of everybody here, I want you to fuck off the least."

"Wow," you said flatly. "That's amazing."

"I know. I can't believe it, either."

☽

kendall 👀👀

@pearlstiare // @ay0nha // @theladyalicnt // @littleladdty @spacebaby1

#roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

Text

I need help! Are we wanting a happy ending with them getting together or them not ending up together? Let me know your thoughts

Here is part 2- not much that has action. More internal thoughts on both sides of the situation :)

never proofread

Eddie found himself back in a hotel room, again all over. His hands burned whenever he looked at them. The hands he put on his own kid. He was spiraling out of control. He did exactly what his wife was praying he would never do. And then added fire to it all when he lost control with Jake.

She told him to get a lawyer and he didn't know where to start with what she meant. Did she mean divorce? Fidning for custody? Was she going to turn him in him for putting his hands on their son? His brain was going a million miles an hour.

He should have known he couldn't just stop. He heard the story about Liam, he heard about the aftermath and how fucked up he became. Why did Eddie think he could easily avoid the addiction? That he could spend many nights getting high and just turn it off in a day?

He hates what Liam put Jake through, and he hates himself for doing it to him and Aria. He knew Y/N didn't deserve it either. She lost someone she loved to drugs before, and now it was happening again. He felt so damn guilty for putting her through this again. He can't imagine the nights she spent crying when he was at parties and blowing his life away.

She loved him and supported him with everything and he betrayed her in a way that was too close to home.

Eddie knew in his heart that his family was more important than the drugs. He knew he wasn't that far gone that he would choose the drugs over them. He just did a horrible job at showing it.

But he wasn't going to just give up. He had the time to get clean, he had places to go if the withdrawals were worse than he planned. He wasn't afraid to throw himself in rehab if that's what she wanted. He was going to get clean and stay clean.

He knew he had to make it up to Jake as well. All the games he missed because he couldn't get out of bed.

He wasn't going to be in any of Aria's birthday pictures, and one she will ask. He owed to make that up to her too.

And Y/N? He didn't know where to start with making it up to her. She welcomed Eddie into Jake's life and he put Jake in danger. That was unforgivable in many ways. And Eddie wasn't sure if that was something he could exactly "make" up to her. But he knew he'd never make his family feel scared of him again.

~~~

He called every morning, and every night. Sometimes she'd pick up, tell him about Aria's day but that was it. She never said a word about Jake and Eddie understood that. It's been a week since the fallout. He knew that he didn't deserve to even get to call her so he took every minute she gave.

Jake had a game this afternoon, Eddie was nervous to show up, but he refused to miss another game. He wanted to be better and this was a shitty step in the right direction. It wasn't much but he hoped it showed he was serious about being there.

He found Y/N and Aria on the bleachers, he respected their space and sat on the opposite side. He didn't want Jake to be distracted by him. He didn't want to upset Jake in a place he always felt positive in.

As the game went on, the more Eddie got invested. Kicking himself for missing so many games. He tried to keep his cheering low and to himself. Not wanting to alert anyone that he was there and make them all feel uneasy.

Jake's team won and he watched as the boy ran to Y/N, hugging her and talking all about his hits. Eddie craved to be there with them, and it hurt knowing he messed up. It was a reminder that even the little things were different because of his mistakes.

~~~

Y/N was used to being alone since Eddie was distant the whole time he was on tour, but this was so much worse. Knowing he was just blocks away and she couldn't feel him. It was like when she was being tortured, he was dangling right there, but everything was different. It wasn't easy, he messed up and it hurt her to make sure he was held accountable. She wanted her husband back and wanted to fall asleep in his arms. She wanted him to make Aria breakfast, and drive Jake to school.

She just wanted it to go back to the way it was before he left for that damn tour. Before he ruined everything and put them in this tough spot.

She almost felt like she was seeing him places. She felt like he was at that baseball game but when she looked he wasn't there. She shrugged it off and took Jake for his celebration ice cream. Aria blabbing happily in her arms.

~~~

As she got Aria settled for bed, she heard her phone ring. She set Aria down and pulled out her phone. Eddie's name and face flashed across her screen. She took a deep breath and answered the call. Allowing him to say goodnight to their daughter.

Once Aria was set for bed, she moved out of the room. Eddie nervously asked if he could talk to Jake. Eddie felt disappointment settle in when Y/N said that Jake refused. But Eddie accepted his answer.

"Thanks for answering, I love you." He held his breath as he waited for her to say something back. A tiny whisper of "I love you too," traveled through the phone. He felt himself smile as she hung up. It was small but it was something.

She got herself ready for bed, Eddie's side still left untouched. She wanted her husband and her family back. But there was a ton of damage done. She was worried they might not be able to come back from this. Would she look like a fool for forgiving him? Would she be a horrible mother for allowing him near Jake again? She had so many questions and hated she was the only one with the answers.

~~~

Jake tossed and turned in his bed. The picture of him and Eddie framed on his desk was taunting him.

He knew what Eddie did was wrong, but he missed him. He never saw his real dad and barely missed him. But Jake has missed Eddie since he left for tour. The Eddie that came home from the tour wasn't his dad, and he missed that version of Eddie.

He believed that version of Eddie was still there, inside him. How did he know?

He saw Eddie on the bleachers during his game. He still cared and he wanted to make up for his mistakes.

Jake wasn't scared of Eddie, he missed his dad.

~~~

Eddie was seconds away from passing out when he heard his phone ding. He blinked open his eyes and adjusted to the brightness on his screen.

"Thanks for coming today, dad"

Eddie smiled at the text from Jake.

He has a lot of work to do fixing himself for his family. But he knew he wouldn't stop until he did.

Tags!

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst x reader #drugs or me

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mynameismckenziemae · 4 months

Text

In Case You Didn’t Know

Part 2

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: Jake struggles to ask for your help.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI (no smut in this chapter but there will be in future ones), mentions of teen pregnancy, adult language, etc.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Charlie, we need to talk. I need you…r help.”

“Name it,” you reply.

You meant it too. You could never repay him or his family for everything they did for you and your mom.

Starting with your mom. You had been conceived on prom night, shortly after Lisa turned 18. Your sperm donor was the town’s golden boy who denied you were his and took off for college without looking back. Her parents wanted her to ‘get rid of it’ and kicked her out when she refused.

With $700 in cash, a suitcase, and her car, she drove west with California on her mind. Life had other plans though; her car broke down in the middle of Texas. The heat mixed with lack of water and abundance of stress brought her to tears, but then Ruth pulled up with a matching pregnant belly of her own.

Ruth and Tom helped Lisa find a job, a place of her own, and made her a part of their family by the time you came along. They helped raise you too.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he sighs, rubbing his temples.

“You had to eject and then were in the hospital, right? What did the doctors say?” You prompt, sensing there’s more but allowing him to leave out what he isn’t ready to share.

“Yeah. They wanted to send me for rehab at Naval Hospital Camp Pendleton and I just…panicked and said I’d go home, not remembering that Ma and Dad are gone for another 2 weeks. I was fine with asking if you’d help me out with the physical therapy but this-“

“Will you stay with me and let me help you? There, I asked so you don’t have to,” you smile.

“That’d be great,” he laughs, squeezing your knee.

“Did you call your parents? Do they know?”

He shakes his head. “No. I’ll know they’ll turn right around if I did and you know how special this is for them.”

You nod. They were on a road trip, spreading some of Lisa’s ashes in the favorite places she and Ruth traveled to.

“Your mom is gonna tan your hide…and probably mine when she finds out you,” you sigh. “Did the doctor send your records? Orders? A plan of care?

“Yeah, in my bag,” he winces as he tries to sit up.

“I’ll get ‘em. What hurts? Leg? Shoulders?”

“Everything,” he sighs.

“Why don’t I get you in the tub and you can soak while I look at your records?”

“That sounds good.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

After feeding him and another round of NSAIDs, you hand him the crutches.

“The crutches are set too low,” you observe out loud.

“That doesn’t surprise me. I pretty much took them and ran.”

You shake your head.

“You’re a terrible patient,” you say as you guide him to sit at the edge of the tub.

“I know.”

“You better not pull that shit with me,” you tease as you kneel and begin to wrap the cast with plastic wrap.

“I won’t, I’ll be good for you.”

You gulp, hoping he doesn’t notice the flush rising to your cheeks.

“How’d you manage to get all the way here on a bum leg?”

“Rooster. He picked me up from the hospital, helped me pack, and then brought me to the airport. He sweet-talked TSA and they let him bring me all the way to the gate,” he laughs. “It got a little tricky when I landed but an older guy saw me struggling and brought my suitcase to the Uber. The driver took it out of the trunk when he dropped me off and was going to bring it to your porch but I insisted I was good. As you could see, I was not good.”

“No, you were not,” you agree, rising to help him stand and step into the tub. “Okay, now shirt off.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies, pulling off his shirt and tossing it past you.

You can’t help but gasp at the deep bruising on each shoulder. “Oh, Jake.”

“It’s okay. So how…?” He trails off wondering how much of him you’re going to have to see.

“I’ll help you down if you can slip your shorts and underwear off like that?”

“Yeah, that should work.”

It’s a process but you do it and close the curtain to give him privacy and he drops his shorts out of the side.

“All set,” he says.

“Not a fan of underwear?” You tease.

“One less layer to try and pull on,” he replies.

You toss a washcloth over so he can cover up while you place a bath stool in next.

“It’s gonna be cold,” you warn once his leg is propped, turning the water on.

He hisses when the water touches him, but it warms quickly.

“A bath bomb? Really?” He asks as you drop one in.

“Yes, an Epsom salt bath bomb. Should help with the soreness.”

“Mmkay. Smells nice,” he sighs.

You leave to find the paperwork and turn the water off when you come back, sitting on the closed toilet lid.

“It looks like they want daily PT, a follow-up with orthopedics this week and…for you to see a counselor,” you say, reading the notes.

“Yeah, they think I have PTSD,” he says quietly behind the curtain.

“Okay well I can see if my counselor can take you on, she does virtual care. I will obviously take care of the PT, and I’ll ask Dr. Hayes if he’ll fit you in,” you say.

“I’m sure he’ll fit me in if you fit him in,” he mutters.

He almost sounds jealous.

“I’ve never ‘fit him in’. It was one date. He’s a great guy, it just…wasn’t right.”

He wasn’t right because he wasn’t Jake. Just like every other failed relationship.

“You see a counselor?” Jake asks, changing the subject.

“Yeah, I started after mom died, it’s helped a lot.”

“Good, yeah that’d be cool if she could see me. God this feels amazing. I don’t know the last time I took a bath.”

“Enjoy it. The hard work starts tomorrow.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

You throw a load of laundry in and start on supper while he relaxes.

“Charlie? Can you help?” He calls from the bathroom, frustration lacing his tone.

“What’s up?” You ask from the doorway.

“Every time I raise my arms to wash my hair I start sliding down,” he sighs.

“Hand me the shampoo.”

The groan he lets out when you massage it into his scalp is downright sinful and sends a shot of arousal straight between your legs.

“That good, huh?” You laugh, hoping he doesn’t notice the flush rising up your neck.

“Mmm,” he hums in agreement, and your eye catches the washcloth over his groin twitching.

“Sit up a little and I’ll get your back,” you tell him as you soap up your hands.

He obliges and his head drops forward with a heavy exhale as you wash his back.

“Feels good too,” he murmurs, sucking in a breath tensing when you get to his lower back, almost to the top of his butt.

“Sorry, does that hurt?”

“No, I’m uh…ticklish.”

“Your back is ticklish?”

“No, but my ass is,” he mutters, pink staining his cheeks.

“Interesting,” you laugh, scoffing when he gently splashes you. “I assume you can get the rest? Wouldn’t want to tickle you.”

He snatches the washcloth from your outstretched hand. “Yes. I got it.”

You laugh, closing the curtain to let him finish washing before handing him the detachable showerhead to rinse.

You manage to get him out of the shower with only one accidental view of his butt and no falls, but you’re just as wet as him now.

His eyes darken when he looks over your chest at the wet t-shirt clinging to your bra-less breasts.

“I’m uh…gonna go change. I’ll grab your clothes. Be right back!” You rush out as you close the door.

Your heart races as you pick some clothes out of his suitcase.

What is happening?

His phone is vibrating nonstop, so you bring it too.

“I’m decent,” he says when you knock.

“Here, I brought your phone too. It was buzzing like crazy.”

“Thanks, I’ll be out in a few.”

“Holler if you need me,” you say as you walk to your room, fanning yourself the whole way.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake ignores his erection as he unlocks his phone, realizing he forgot to let Bradshaw know he made it safely.

🐓: You make it okay?

🐓: Have you fallen and can’t get up?

🐓: ?

🐓: I’m about to text Charlie. Maybe I’ll ask her out too.

🐓: Dude. I’m actually starting to worry.

3 missed calls from 🐓.

Jake: Sorry man, I forgot. I’m exhausted.

Jake: Also, fuck off. Leave Charlie alone.

🐓: Glad you’re okay.

🐓: You finally gonna tell her how you feel?

Jake: I can’t. I can’t lose her if she doesn’t feel the same.

🐓: Pretty sure she does. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.

Jake: I don’t know…I just don’t know. Where would I even start?

🐓: Tell her how you called her name when you were about to die. Chicks dig sappy shit like that.

Jake: 🤦🏼‍♂️ and you wonder why you’re single.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A/N: Got a little bit of their families histories and why they’re so close. The tension is starting to rise ☺️

Let me know whatcha think!

Tagging:

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@blindedbythelightt

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#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun smut

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year

Note

🎵 Hiya can i request Spencer and x reader with the Lyrics

I’ve found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new, and the reason is you - The Reason by Hoobastank

🎵

This yet again turned out way angstier than planned and I’m sorry for that. Hopeful ending though! Basically - what if Spencer didn’t get sober when he did?

The Reason

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - Spencer’s drug addiction cost him everything: his job, his friends and the love of his life. When he finally decides to get clean, can he convince you that you were the reason for his newfound sobriety?

CW - drug use, mentions of weight loss, slightly aggressive behaviour, swearing, rehab, twelve step program, hopeful ending.

WC - 2.9k

The hardest part of anything of a self destructive nature was how close knit you became with it. Addiction was now interwoven in the fabric of the Spencer Reid canvas, as much as any other facet of his life.

Leaving it behind, as he’d tried and failed to do many times, felt like severing a limb. Giving up his vice would be like killing the very part of himself that taught him how to survive.

Addiction was an inherently selfish disease. Somewhere along the line Spencer had stopped caring about anyone or anything that didn’t directly pertain to getting high.

What had started as him using when the torment got too much had ended up in him using simply to feel ok. As time passed he needed more and more of the drug to reach the high he craved. And in turn that made it harder for him to even consider the idea of quitting.

By this point his mind was clouded only by thoughts of drugs. It took a hold of him, wrapping its tentacles around him and dragging him down into an abyss of his own creation.

His addiction had taken everything from him piece by piece; little by little. It had gotten in the way of his job, his work obligations becoming less important to him than getting high.

And so he’d been fired from the BAU.

It had taken his health, his energy and motivation. He’d lost more weight than he had to lose, or so he’d been told. But it also took away his ability to see the world clearly and so he didn’t notice the skeletal form staring back at him in the mirror.

One by one it had destroyed his friendships. Some had held out longer than others, JJ and Garcia in particular trying to cloy Spencer back to reality far longer than anyone else.

But his drug use made him angry, almost aggressive. And eventually even his two best friends had given up on him. But honestly, Spencer didn’t even have the impetus to care.

Through it all, you remained stalwart. You were determined to stay by his side and help him every step of the way.

But once it became clear that Spencer didn’t want your help, there really wasn’t much you could do but walk away too.

Your two year relationship came to a sudden and horrible end one night when you’d tried to help him detox. He’d been drug free for twelve hours and thankfully he’d slept through most of that.

But when he woke up was when it all went so horrifically wrong and after that night you knew Spencer was no longer the man you’d fallen in love with.

He screamed and yelled and fought for you to let him out of the apartment, to let him buy more drugs.

One more hit, that’s what he kept saying. One more hit and then I promise no more.

With tears streaming down his face and trembling hands, looking more scared and lost than anyone you’d ever seen, it would have been easy to give him the world on a silver platter.

But you remained strong, blocking the doorway with your body and refusing to let him out. You tried to reason with him that he didn’t need them, that everything was going to be ok without them.

But Spencer was long past listening to reason.

The final nail in the coffin that had been your relationship was when he forcibly grabbed you by the shoulders and peeled you away from the door with more strength than you knew he possessed.

He threw you aside like you were a discarded gum wrapper and you fell to the floor in a heap. And maybe if that had just been the end of it, you might have been able to salvage things.

But it wasn’t the end.

You were quick to jump back to your feet, grabbing his wrist as he went to open the door. You spun him to face you and as if in a blink of an eye his tears had dried and the eyes looking back at you weren’t the same ones you’d known for the last two years.

His eyes were so dark they were black, pupils bleeding into the gold of his irises and swallowing them whole. Looking back at you was a man you didn’t recognise.

That was only further confirmed when he took you by the shoulders again and slammed you against the wall, causing a small whimper of pain to leave your lips as your back collided with the hard surface.

His grip on your shoulders was like a vice, his blunt fingernails digging into your flesh even through your shirt. He looked manic, evil; and that terrified you.

“I swear to god Y/N if you try to stop me leaving the goddamn apartment…” he spat, trailing off at the end of his sentence.

“You’ll what?” You bit back, despite the fear coursing through your body.

“You don’t want me to answer that. Do not make me choose between drugs and you, because I can promise you, you will not like the outcome.”

His grip on you tightened and you whimpered again, sure he would leave bruises.

“S-Spencer, you’re hurting me.” Your voice was trembling.

“No I’m not, don’t be so pathetic.” He snarled at you.

“You’re scaring me.”

“This is nothing compared to how scary I will be if you don’t let me out of this fucking apartment.”

You knew then that it was over. For the first time in two years you didn’t see the love he held for you pooling from his eyes. You didn’t know this man. You certainly didn’t love him.

And as much as you wanted to help him you knew you couldn’t. He was passed help. And you would only be putting yourself in danger if you stayed.

“If you leave,” your voice cracked with emotion. “I won’t be here when you come back. If you choose drugs over me then we’re over, Spencer.”

There hadn’t been even a hint of hesitation when he’d suddenly let you go, stepped back, shrugged and spoke again.

“You can see yourself out then.”

And that was the last time you saw him until, a little over a year later, when you received a phone call from the one person you never expected to hear from again.

***

Spencer Reid was not a perfect person. There were many, many things he wished he hadn’t done.

But taking the vials of dilaudid from the dead man who’d held him hostage was probably one of the dumbest.

He tried to get sober but the longer he used the harder he found it to quit. For a time he managed to hide his addiction from everyone, you included, but it quickly spiralled out of control.

Had he been in his right mind, there was no way he would have put anything above his relationship with you. You were the best thing that had ever happened to him, he still remembered meeting you like it was yesterday.

You were a student in Gideon’s class around his age and on the occasions when he spent his time away from the BAU shadowing his mentor at the university, the two of you had grown close.

You were his first relationship, he still even now didn’t really understand how someone like you was interested in someone like him. But he counted his lucky stars every single day.

But his drug use got out of hand and really the moment you walked away should have been the wake up call he needed. Unfortunately it wasn’t.

After that night he continued using for another ten months. That time passed him by slowly and rapidly in equal measure.

His whole life had fallen apart but all he could think of was his next hit. The small windows of clarity that came when he woke up in the morning didn’t last long as he often shot up before he’d even indulged in his first coffee of the day.

Being sober terrified him. If he was sober too long then he would have time to reflect on all the things he’d lost and all the things Hankel had done to him.

But then one morning before he stuck that needle in his vein, he ventured into his living room.

It had been months since he’d seen this particular room through sober eyes and maybe that was why it had taken him so many months to notice it.

It was innocuous in its smallness which paled in comparison to the rest of the room. Perhaps it was the sunlight seeping in between the cracks in the curtains, causing the item to shimmer that caught his attention.

He padded towards it, the small glint of silver set against the dark wood floorboards just to the left of his front door. When he reached it, he fell to the ground and picked it up between his fingers.

The cool metal of the chain tingled against his fingertips and he cradled the small pendant in his palm.

On your first official date when Spencer had taken you for dinner you’d told him about your affinity for birds.

Since you were a child you’d always loved the symbolism of them, of freedom and hope and new beginnings as well as courage and strength.

He kept that piece of information with him and on your first anniversary he’d gifted you the small silver bird necklace he now held in his palm.

You’d never once taken it off since he’d given it to you. And somehow it had remained on his floor for some ten months since the last time he’d seen you.

And for whatever reason that necklace was like a beacon to Spencer. It was a sign that something needed to give, that he couldn’t carry on this way.

So with the necklace still in hand he marched back to his bedroom and flushed the dilaudid down the toilet.

Then he called JJ.

Despite not talking to him in months she was more than happy to help her best friend. She checked him into the most elite rehab facility in the state, for which Rossi was footing the bill for. She stood by his side through the worst of the withdrawals, and he was visited by the members of his old team.

During the course of getting sober he needed to make amends. One by one he did this, first with JJ and Rossi, then Penelope, Hotch and Emily and finally with Morgan.

He was two months sober and still residing in the facility when he finally called you.

He didn’t expect you to come, that’s not why he called. But you came anyway.

He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how hard it was for you to visit him after a year had passed, after everything he’d put you through.

Yet somehow you’d put your hurt and your anger aside simply because he’d called you.

Sitting opposite you in the recreation room, all the things he’d thought he would say to you left his brain. Seeing you now the extent of the pain he’d caused you spread across your features and the only thought left in his head was how much he hated himself for putting you through that.

He looked down at his hands, the paper beneath his fingers. The twelve steps. The twelve steps of which he was stuck right here on number nine.

“The eighth step,” he whispered, tearing his eyes off the page to look back at you. “I managed the eighth. We made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all. The, uh, making of the list was the easy part. It’s the part that comes next that’s really hard.”

You stayed silent, lips drawn in a tight line and back rigid in your seat. You waited for him to continue.

“Step nine is the part that requires us to actually reach out to the people we’ve hurt and make amends with them. They tell us that the only exception to this should be in cases where trying to make amends will do more harm than good. Opening up old wounds, causing more pain.

It’s why it took two months of being here to reach out. I’m worried that in doing so I may have very well done more harm than good. But uh, selfishly, I needed to apologise to you face to face. And I’m sorry if that’s opened all those old wounds for you.” He ran his fingers over the paper by way of keeping himself tethered.

“I got used to you being selfish.” You replied passive aggressively and Spencer knew he deserved that and a whole lot worse.

“I don’t have any excuses, Y/N.” He sighed, rolling his lip between his teeth. “The drugs turned me into someone I don’t even recognise. They brought out the worst in me and you had to suffer the brunt of it and for that I am truly sorry.”

“Is that it?” You shrugged, sliding your chair back. “You wanted to apologise. You said it, I heard it. Are we done here?”

Spencer watched with a confused frown as you got to your feet, slinging your purse over your shoulder. He picked up the sheet of paper and stood too.

“Uh, I mean I guess so?” He pulled a face.

Why would you agree to see him and come all this way for only a few minutes?

He watched you turn on your heels and start towards the door while he stood scratching at the back of his neck. He stuffed the wrinkled paper into his pocket and as he did so his fingers brushed against the metal chain.

He freed it from his pocket and held it up so the pendant was in his eye line, the little swallow with its wings spread wide as if in mid flight.

Freedom. Hope. New beginnings. Courage. Strength.

Suddenly he took off after you, catching up to you in the gardens as you headed up the path towards the parking lot.

“We’re not done.” He called after you. “At least I’m not.”

Your back straightened and your pace slowed until you were at a halt. Cautiously you turned back to face him.

“What else is there to say, Spencer?” You exhaled loudly.

He walked closer to you and you noticed the necklace dangling from his fingers.

“Y/N, I am sorry that I hurt you. It’s something I’ve had to live with every day I’ve been sober. I wish I could take away all the pain I put you through but I can’t. But there’s something I need you to hear.” He gently reached out for your hand, turning it over so your palm was up and he placed the little bird inside of it, coiling the chain into your hand.

You wrapped your fingers around it once he let you go, holding it tight as if it might come alive and fly away.

“What? What do you need me to hear?” Your eyes gave way to your sadness, to the pain he’d caused you.

“It was finding that necklace that gave me the courage I needed to ask for help. It gave me the strength I needed to get sober. It offered me the hope that I could get clean this time, the freedom of knowing I didn’t need drugs to survive. It gave me a new beginning, it opened a door for me to start over.” He felt tears in his eyes and he fought to keep them at bay.

“Spencer, I’m really pleased you finally got sober, I am. But let’s not pretend it had anything to do with me or that necklace.” You swallowed, holding the chain tighter still.

“No one’s pretending. It shouldn’t have taken me as long as it did to realise and I can’t change that. But I found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new.” He sniffed, unable to stop reaching for you and cupping the side of your neck. “And the reason is you.”

Your own tears overflowed, one’s you didn’t realise had worked their way to your eyes. You loosened the grip on the chain slightly, letting your fingers brush over the metal.

“Spencer,” you mumbled. “I…”

“I know it’s probably too late for all of this and I can’t expect you to just forgive me overnight. But if you think there’s ever a chance you might one day forgive me…it would mean a lot of you would come and visit again.” He let his hand fall to his side again and took a step back.

You wiped your tears with your free hand and nodded slowly.

“Can I…I need to think about it, ok? I just need to process all of this.”

“Of course, take all the time you need.” He nodded.

You said your goodbyes after that and Spencer slumped back inside, convinced he would never see you again.

One week later when he arrived in the rec room to meet his visitor, you were sitting at the table waiting for him, smiling softly in his direction.

And taking in the small silver swallow in its rightful place hanging around your neck, Spencer felt hope. A new beginning unfolding right before his very eyes in the recreation room of his rehab facility.

As he slid into the chair opposite you and you reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his knuckles, he knew he’d found his reason for being put on this Earth.

And the reason was you.

#milestone celebration #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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be-queer-do-arson · 1 year

Text

Imagine. You're nineteen years old. You've just moved back to South Carolina, where you never thought you'd go again, to make sure your cousins don't have to live with your piece of shit dad. It's hard. You miss your boyfriend, you miss being in Germany, and you don't have the slightest idea how to be a parent but you're going to try anyways.

After a week of trying to keep them alive, the one that scares you a little bit comes home with two flats of spaghetti-os a chain and an industrial grade lock. He refuses to answer when you ask what they're for.

When you come home from work that night, he's got his twin locked in the bathroom with the spaghetti-os doing a forced detox and none of the parenting books you've read have any advice for what to do in this scenario.

Do you try to break him out? Call the police? Just let them do their thing and hope it turns out well?

In the end you leave him there because even though you think he might get scurvy from eating only spaghetti-os, rehab is expensive and you're too afraid of getting stabbed to defy your other cousins will.

#poor nicky was not prepared for the twinyards chaos #a follow up to my last post! i would apologize for the second person but i genuinely think its the only way i can write so it is what it is #aftg #andrew minyard #all for the game #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #twinyards

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shiraishi-mai · 1 year

Text

[And After?]

(kind of a part II but could be read as a stand alone)

You broke up with Atsumu your final year of high school.

Was it because you both would be in separate areas of Japan and you didn’t want to go long-distance? Partially.

But when you uttered those words, you both knew that wasn’t the real reason.

You stood in front of him, eyes downcast and refusing to meet his.

“I’m leaving for Yokohama. I got accepted to university there.”

His eyes widened and you smiled wryly.

“No congratulations?”

“Congratulations.” Atsumu couldn’t help but say flatly.

“I’m guessing you’re going to continue volleyball.” You felt a tinge of regret. You hadn’t bothered to ask him about scouts or recruitment.

He nodded. “I’ve already gotten offer...None close to Yokohama though.”

You gave him a small smile and shrugged in what you hoped looked like a nonchalant way. “I want to focus on my studies and I don’t think I’ll be able to do that if I’m trying to make a long-distance relationship work.”

His hand clenched and his eyes took on a stubborn look that usually signalled the beginning of an argument. “I’ll make it work. I can come visit and I’ll make time when I’m not practising to call and -”

“Atsumu.” He ached at the resignation in your voice.

“‘Tsumu, I need to get away from here. Just start again y’know.”

His eyes flitted toward the boot on your ankle and you unconsciously shifted in discomfort, at the real reason why you were making the decision. He cursed - at it and the entire situation and you couldn’t help but blink back the tears forming at the corners of your eyes. It wasn’t his fault - it was entirely yours.

There was a thud and a ‘oh my god’ rang out from the women’s volleyball captain.

Atsumu was beside you in an instant. He had watched, wide-eyed in horror, as your leg had crumpled, taking you down with it.

“Give her space,” the captain’s voice rang out as you clutched at your ankle, face twisted in pain. “What even happened?”

“I tripped -,” you spit out through clenched teeth. Atsumu saw how your foot had been wrenched in a position it should never be in and felt a rising panic he tried to stifle. Years of experience on the court told him that this was not a minor injury.

You looked up at him with pleading eyes, and he scooped you up, speeding away to the nurse’s office and away from the pitying looks of your teammates.

You groaned in pain and looked at him with panicked eyes. “Atsumu, this-”

“You’ll be fine. It’s okay, it’s going to be fine.” He chanted as if it would make it true.

Your skin had already turned purple and the area surrounding your ankle had swollen up bigger than an egg. You whimpered, both at the pain shooting up your leg and fear of the consequences of what just happened to you.

A trip to the hospital later and you found yourself hobbling back to school in a few days, ankle held tightly in a brace and leaning against crutches. You knew your ankles were weak from a few sprains over the years and they finally gave up and the muscle had torn.

Atsumu had held you while you sobbed as the doctor told you that you couldn’t play for the rest of your final year and most likely needed rehab for longer than that. He was there, waiting outside the classroom to carry your bag between classes and helped you around school. He was there when he found you, squatting with your back against the outside of the gym doors, crying about how unfair it was and he was there to shush you when you beat yourself up for being so clumsy.

It took a while, but eventually you came around and accepted the situation - well you made your peace with it as best you could. You focused on steadily on doing rehab exercises, gritting your teeth and sweating through the pain. You began to joke around again, bickered with Atsumu as you held hands in the school corridors when you graduated to just wearing a boot, and went back to chatting animatedly with your friends.

Atsumu had tried to be positive and not treat you any differently to maintain some sort of normalcy. But when he realised you no longer came to watch the teams practice, he found it hard to swallow the lump in his throat and felt his chest tighten. He stopped looking towards the stands at games, knowing you weren’t there, and forced a fake smile that reflected yours when you politely congratulated him on his wins. He’d never felt such helplessness whenever he caught you staring absent-mindedly out of the window during class, your eyes dull and shoulders slumped.

“The change will be good for me and I don’t - I don’t really want anything to do with volleyball anymore," you said, confessing what he’d known all year.

“It might seem dramatic because I know I can do PT and get better again but I’ll never be back to how I used to play.” You shrugged again casually and he hated it.

“And honestly? I was tired of it anyway. I can’t remember a time I haven’t had bruises or walked without stressing about getting hurt. I like waking up at a normal time and not at the ungodly hours of the morning and not having to force myself to exercise or eat a certain diet. I want to go somewhere completely new and live life free without remembering how difficult all that was.”

Atsumu felt hollow. “But you loved volleyball so much you never minded that before?” He wanted to yell. But he knew it was hopeless - you were determined to throw volleyball away and he was always going to be a part of that.

And so, you were throwing him away too.

“Don’t worry, I’ll still be cheering you on, even if I’m not there,” you gave him another smile that he wanted to scream at.

He couldn’t bear to see how hard you were forcing yourself to be normal and he pulled you into his arms and squeezed tightly, as if you’d disappear right then and there.

“We can keep in touch okay?”

He nodded into your shoulder, not trusting himself to say anything that could drive you any further away than you were already were. He knew you well after dating you these past couple of years. He knew how stubborn you could be about certain things and while he was equally as stubborn, he didn’t want to end things with the two of you screaming and arguing. He needed to accept that you needed to heal and that you didn’t want his help in doing so.

Your hand stroked the back of his hair affectionately, untangling the knots and failing to soothe him.

“I’ll see you around, Atsumu.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few years passed. You survived university and you managed to get a job back in Osaka at an arts museum and were grateful that your hard work had paid off. You got a new apartment, dated here and there, and went out with friends. All in all, you were content with your life.

And some nights after work, you’d make a cup of tea,

snuggle into some blankets on your couch,

grab the remote,

and watch the MSBY game.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You loved being at the museum. Everything was neat, orderly, and most importantly, quiet. The silence, save for soft murmurs, was comforting. You didn’t have to speak much and spent most of your day hanging out with paintings. It was a stark change from the sounds of balls smashing against wooden floors, sneakers squeaking, and the constant cheers of teammates. Playing such a team-oriented sport had forced you to be around people all the time and you savoured being able to introspect and have alone time now.

You were in a particularly good mood that day. The cute barista had drawn a flower on your cup, you managed to get on the bus on time, and a new exhibit with one of your favourite artists had just begun.

You weaved in and out of different rooms, occasionally writing down information on your ipad regarding the works to present at a meeting later. The muffled atmosphere was music to your ears until you heard a loud laugh accompanied by not-so-silent whispers.

Ugh who is being so disruptful? Do they not know basic etiquette for places like this?

The voices grew louder as you walked in that direction and you shook your head. Probably some youths who didn’t know respect.

You strode into the room ready to scold some rambunctious teen boy when you locked eyes with a very familiar blonde-haired guy.

He had put his hand by his face in an attempt to whisper to a girl beside him and had frozen with his mouth open when he saw you. You kept a straight face as you walked forward, catching yourself nearly snorting at the “caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar” expression he had.

“Excuse me sir,” you said sternly, “I’m not sure if you read the sign outside, but you are supposed to keep your voice down here.” He straightened stiffly at your tone and the girl he was whispering to looked at you with alarmed eyes.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am.” She stuttered out.

Atsumu tried to stifle a laugh, saving himself by coughing as your eye twitched. Ma’am? I’m not a grandma.

You whipped your attention to him. “And I’ll have you know that we don’t have any exceptions - even for superstar volleyball players.” Your voice was cold but your eyes held a familiar shine, and he relaxed. He made a note that you still sucked at having a poker face and he could tell you weren’t actually mad.

“What about the handsome ones?” He said grinning but faltered when you didn’t crack. Perhaps he didn’t know you as well as he used to.

You finally sighed and Atsumu mentally danced in victory as you finally gave up your act. “Especially the handsome ones. We hold those to an even higher standard.”

“What are you doing here?” he demanded and you shushed him, dragging him out of the room.

“What are you doing here?” he said whispering this time.

“I work here. What are you doing here?” you shot back, “Since when do you go to places like this?”

“Actually he’s been into art for a few years now,” you turned to see Osamu walking towards you grinning. “Hi y/n.”

“'Samuuu,” you greeted and gave him a hug while Atsumu twitched at the exchange.

“Yeah well I -,” the setter said, scratching the back of his kneck and looking uncomfortable, “It’s an important part of society and culture and stuff.” It's not like he used Osamu to mildly stalk you over the years or anything weird like that.

You looked at him incredulously. "And you chose to come here?”

“No, my fiance wanted to go,” Osamu cut in. “Apparently it has one of the best collections.”

The blonde girl who Atsumu had been whispering to peeked from behind his figure waving. “Hi!”

You blinked, surprised. You had assumed the beautiful girl was Atsumu’s girlfriend. Not that you cared of course.

The three of you exchanged pleasantries, Osamu mainly driving the conversation. His restaurant was doing well apparently and he and the girl were due to be married in a month or so.

“Congratulations!” you squealed, beaming at the both of them.

“Yer welcome to come,” Osamu said winking and you giggled. Osamu was always easy to talk to and you were glad that hadn’t changed.

“I’ll have to see if I’m free,” you replied with a smile and internally pushed the thought of seeing Atsumu looking radiant in a suit and standing at the end of an aisle out of your mind.

Speaking of the man, he had been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation - a fact that did not escape his twin.

“Well,” Osamu said, “Kaori wanted to check out the special exhibit so we’ll head there first.”

The now dark-haired brother dragged his fiance off and with that the two of you were left alone.

“I should head back-”

“How are you-”

Both of you stopped and he scratched the back of his kneck again. “Right yeah you have to work.”

You nodded. “I should go.”

He bit his lip and looked at the floor. You couldn’t help a small smile looking at such a large man looking so timid.

“Atsumu.” He glanced up, your eyes locked for the first time. It registered how he was a man now, the softer curves of his face had become more angular and he was even taller than before with a broader build as well.

“It was really nice to see you again.” A glimmer sparked in his eyes your statement.

“And we have some cool new exhibits coming up you know since you’re so interested in art and all now…” You trailed off as he shot you a breathtaking grin and you desperately tried to ignore the fact that you were still weak for it even after all these years.

“Yeah I saw some of the posters. I’ll drop by if I see something I like.” He winked and you almost rolled your eyes as you turned to swiftly walk away, heart pounding in your chest faster than it had in years.

Why did I have to blurt that out??? You groaned internally before speeding off to your meeting. You remembered the warm brown of his eyes. Yep. Definitely still weak. Damn it.

After that, Atsumu started showing up to the museum. Every Saturday in fact.

You did a double-take the first time you saw the setter standing in front of a painting with headphones on. You walked over to stand beside him and peeked at him, catching his attention.

“What are you doing here?” you found yourself parroting when he lowered his headphones.

“It’s a museum,” he said confused, “I’m looking at the artwork. You said to come by?”

“I-” you tilted your head to the side, a bit flustered at his re-appearance. Ah that was a stupid question why y/n why??

You bit your lip. You didn’t think he’d actually come. Wasn’t he busy??

“Okay, please enjoy our collections.” You said in a formal voice before walking away, cringing at your awkwardness.

But after a while, you began looking forward to Saturdays and would make an excuse to wander the halls to see where he was. He’d shoot you a toothy smile when he saw you before turning back to the works with a pensive face. Hasn’t he memorised the works by now? You shook your head as you headed back to your office. He did have poor memory from what you remembered.

As you sat down at your desk, you thought back to what happened years ago, remembering how overwhelming everything felt. It took all this time for you to become yourself again and it had taken nearly repressing most of high school to succeed in forgetting all the trauma.

But after seeing Atsumu, you remembered all the good that came with those times too. How you’d hit Atsumu with the volleyball the first time you met, the fighting and bickering that came after, and how surprising it was that the two of you ended up dating. How he used to walk you home after both your practices ended and helped you with your serves. How after your injury, he spent his time not practising nodding off beside you in the library to keep you company and his goofy smile when he saw you supporting him at games . He’d even show up at the part time job you took your final year in a desperate attempt to find something to occupy you during all the free time you suddenly had by pretending he was a customer. You fought back a smile.

Kind of like he was doing now.

You swung your feet as you sat on the edge of the fountain, the both of you sipping on iced coffees. He’d taken to accompanying you on your break and you’d often go to a nearby cafe together.

“Are you even allowed to be out in public like this? I mean Sakusa-san’s always in a cap and glasses whenever I see him in the news photos.”

“Omi hates being social to begin with so he’s extra paranoid when he goes out.” Atsumu shrugged before grinning cockily. That cockiness made you bristle in annoyance - a reflex of yours that hadn’t changed. “What, scared you’ll get caught in a scandal with me?”

“I just don’t want your fangirls coming after me,” you said flatly.

He scoffed in response. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of them?”

“I don’t want to be harassed about it. I’ll end up getting pushed around,” you frowned.

“As if,” he snorted, “You aren’t the type to be bullied so easily.” He felt the ghost of a volleyball slamming into his back and chuckled.

Your frown deepened in disagreement and Atsumu glanced at you before continuing. He never liked to see you doubt yourself. You used to be so confident, standing on the court steadfastly with your eyes alight with mischief. Even when you told him you got into university, there had been a prideful look on your face that he had been relieved to see.

“Though it might be a good idea to have a few photos snapped of us. Our PR team says I need to shake off this playboy image.”

“Image?”

An indignant noise erupted from the man beside you. “Contrary to popular belief, I am NOT a fuckboy. When do I have the time to sleep around? I’m either at practice, matches, or here with you!” He pouted and crossed his arms.

“I’m honoured that the great Atsumu Miya chooses to grace me with his presence during my busy work day,” you said dryly.

“Exactly, you’d be lucky to be caught with me,” he said, winking.

“Still a celebrity I see,” you said shaking your head and opted to look away to focus on the bustle of people around the plaza.

“I’m not bothering ya, right?” You looked at him, confused, as he kept his gaze on the passersby as well. “Ya know, from yer busy work day.”

“Since when do you care about things like that?” Miya Atsumu was not the type to ask permission to intrude on someone’s life.

“I didn’t know if it would be okay,” he said softly and in a tone much more serious than you expected. “To see you again. I know we tried to leave on good terms but…”

You knew what he was talking about. It was good terms - well the best you could do at the time but there was a sense of uneasiness. As if you lost something and you had been so eager to get away that you didn’t realise just what you lost. Seeing him again brought memories back, memories of a time that meant a great deal to you.

“Why do you come back then?”

“I can’t seem to stay away,” he said, chuckling weakly.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t gotten over me yet or something,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. When Atsumu didn’t respond you felt your breath hitch as your throat felt suddenly tighten. You snuck a peek at him and when your gazes locked, both of you cleared your throats looking away quickly.

“Osamu’s wedding is next week,” he suddenly said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Oh right. He must be excited,” you smiled. It was nice that your friend had gotten such a happy ending.

“Want to be my plus one?”

“I believe I was invited.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

He mirrored your raised eyebrow and said, “What, so you’re bringing a plus one?” You laughed at his audacity in automatically thinking you didn’t.

“Maybe I am? You never asked me if I had a boyfriend ‘Tsumu.”

He frowned. “Well do ya? It’s hard to do better than me, you know.”

“Wow, you’re still a dick.”

“And you still dated me. So do you?”

You wanted to press your palms to your eyes in exasperation. How was he still the same?

“No I do not have a boyfriend, Atsumu.”

“What a coincidence,” he said, shooting you the toothy smile. “I don’t have one either so we can go together.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend?”

This time it was Atsumu that felt a surge of exasperation. “A date smartass. So it’s perfect if we go together.”

He cut off your noise of protest at his sudden declaration by waving his hand, “I think your break is almost over. I’ll text you more about it later okay?” he said and walked off, turning around once to frantically wave goodbye at you.

You gave a half-hearted wave before making a shoo-ing motion at him. As you watched him finally turn and leave, you felt your smile slowly fading. You wanted to keep Atsumu at a distance and you had a strong instinct to flee - to go back to ignoring that part of your life. But how could you? You stupidly still found him charming after all these years. Miya Atsumu was slowly managing to worm his way back into your life and you found you were reluctant to kick him out.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the insistence of his fiance, Osamu had decided to hold his wedding near the beach. You had been stunned at how pretty the venue was and admittedly a bit jealous at how gorgeous Kaori looked when she was showing you her wedding gown. You were also a bit nervous at spending a whole weekend with Atsumu around and knowing his personality, he would make sure he’d be harassing you the entire time.

Your suspicions were indeed correct. After you arrived at the hotel, you slid your key card into your room lock and found the red light blinking, preventing your access to a hot shower you desperately needed. You grunted in annoyance, dumping your heavy suitcase on the ground and aggressively slid the card in and out. The red light continued to greet you and you swore in response.

“Why is this not working??”

You heard a click and the door opened to reveal a damp Atsumu, towel slung around his neck and wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

“I thought I heard a sailor with a potty mouth,” he grinned, rubbing the end of the towel against his hair to dry it.

“Atsumu?? What are you doing in my room??”

“y/n I think you mean my room?”

“What? I’m in room 261?”

“You’re in 262,” he said simply and pointed down the hall.

You blinked at him and he snatched the card from your limp hand, lifting your discarded bag from the floor.

You spluttered uselessly as you trailed after him. He slid the card in and green light betrayed you. He easily opened the door and looked at you pointedly, “See this is what it looks like when you use the key for the right door.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled and just as you were about to thank him, he strolled through the door.

“What are you doing? I never said you could go in!”

“Nice,” he said looking around. “It’s the same as mine.”

“No shit,” you were about to say but yelped again when he dumped both your suitcase and himself on the bed.

“I swear your bed is softer,” he remarked as he laid sprawled out on his back.

“You’re getting it wettt,” you whined and he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyebrow lifting.

“You have a hot, shirtless pro-athlete on your bed and you’re complaining about the bed getting wet?”

“I think I’m more questioning why you have boxers with ducks on them,” you mocked trying to ignore that you did, in fact, have a hot, shirtless pro-athlete on your bed.

His lips stretched into a familiar shit-eating grin. “Maybe you’re just grouchy that YOU aren’t wet on the-.”

“MIYA ATSUMU,” you screamed, horrified as you rushed over to clamp a hand over his mouth. Of course, you being you, you nearly tripped as you reached the bed and you yelped as strong arms pulled you forward.

Your palms landed on a VERY solid chest and you looked up to see Atsumu’s face dangerously close to yours. Your eyes widened and you pushed yourself up only to have warm hands grip your thighs, stopping your attempt to get off of the offensive boy.

His eyebrows shot up as you sat, straddled on top of him. “Now we can change that if you-”

“UGH,” you threw your body weight to the side and tumbled off the bed.

“Nice to see you’re still clumsy.” He peered down at your dishevelled figure sitting on the floor glaring at him. “How you managed to play a sport, I’ll never know.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Atsumu regretted it. He internally cursed as you refused to meet his eyes, lips twisting unhappily. His mouth was dry as he tried to smooth over his mistake.

“I mean I didn’t-” He stammered.

“I don’t know if you recall Miya,” You nearly spit and you saw him flinch as you stood up putting your hands on your hips. “But I was an EXCELLENT volleyball player.”

Yours eyes flashed at him in a defiant way and he nearly fell for you all over again.

“Ehh but your serves kinda sucked.”

“Oh I don’t think you’re in a position to call my serves shit Mr. ‘Don't make me lose my focus or I’ll throw a temper tantrum’.”

“Though,” you pondered for a moment. “You don’t seem to mind people cheering nowadays.”

He sat up, a triumphant smile slowly spreading across his face this time. “Oho and how would you know that? Has someone been stalking my games?”

Your eye twitched and your mouth opened and closed. You wracked your brain desperately for a way to deny this without sounding stupid before settling for a lame, “Get out Miya.”

“You know if you wanna come watch all you have to do is ask, princess,” he said half-jokingly, half-hopeful that you would make the request.

“Leave Miya,” you repeated, refusing to acknowledge that you did want to see him play. “I’m going to take a shower and I don’t wanna see you when I get out,” you warned as you moved towards the bathroom.

“I can help you if you feel lonely~” he chuckled as he heard the door slam. Not wanting to push your wrath any further, he got up stretching before leaving the room.

He was greeted with a face identical to his standing outside the door.

“Ah so this is why you asked for the room next door to y/n.”

“You were listening? Creep.” He said, striding past Osamu towards his own room.

“I’m glad the two of you seem to be getting along,” he heard the amusement laced in his brother’s voice.

“Yeah,” Atsumu said softly with his hand paused on the handle of his door. “I hope we are.”

There was a silence between the two brothers and they distantly heard the sound of kids running down the hallways of the hotel somewhere.

“What? Too reluctant to leave her already?”

Atsumu grimaced and Osamu nearly threw his hands up. “I know you’re whipped but she’s next door ‘Tsumu.”

“Osamu,” Atsumu said in a serious manner that made his twin scrunch his face in concern. “I forgot my key card.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting as Atsumu blearily opened his eyes. He hadn’t had a nap in years and it felt weird to actually get some rest. He rolled over to grab his phone and saw a message from his brother.

If you plan on waking up anytime soon, we’ll be down at the beach.

He groaned and opted to scroll through instagram when he got another message.

[y/n] is here too.

He remained unmoving on his back for a moment before groaning again and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling at the bait his twin set. Pulling on a pair of red basketball shorts and throwing on an old Stussy shirt, he made his way down to the beach.

The sound of seagulls and crashing waves greeted him as his feet hit the sand. There were yells, the sounds of laughter, and he was surprised to see a volleyball net set up nearby. His eyes flitted towards Kaori blowing Osamu a kiss from across the net and froze as he saw a familiar figure yell at her about fraternising with the enemy.

There you were, face glowing with excitement, standing at the service line and spinning a volleyball in your hands. His feet took off towards the net before he could think and his gaze was glued to you as your palm made contact with the ball.

He could practically hear your ‘tsk’ sound as Osamu dug it up and he couldn’t help but worriedly look at your ankle as you crouched low. Kaori jumped to block and his heart pounded in anticipation.

You darted out and dove, sending the ball high into the air. You scrambled to quickly get up and jogged back, your eyes following the set arching back towards you.

Atsumu unconsciously held his breath as he watched you jump, feet kicked back behind you and arm drawn back - the orange sunset behind you highlighting your form.

A malicious smile spread across your face as you found Osamu jumping up to reach over the net and you spiked against his arms.

“OUT,” his fiance screamed as the ball ricocheted off the block and outside the court.

“C’mon ‘Samu,” Atsumu heard your teasing voice. “You must be getting old if you let me score off of you like that.” You finally noticed his figure by the makeshift court and perked up. “Oh, 'Tsumu’s awake!”

He finally let out a breath when he saw you and Kaori waving excitedly at him. “Atsumu! Come join us!”

“Aw, how is that fair,” Osamu’s teammates groaned. “You guys can’t have a professional player on your team!”

“Suck it up,” you stuck a tongue out at him. “Atsumu is mine so you can’t have him.” You laughed gleefully at the protest that came from the opposing side and you playfully nudged him as he came to stand beside you at the net.

He smiled down at you for a second and as you stared into his eyes, momentarily mesmerised. He looked at you with such familiarity and warmth and you couldn’t help but shyly smile in return.

Your gaze was interrupted by a low growl.

Atsumu’s eyes flitted up to meet his twin's through the net. “Pro or not, 'Tsumu you’re going down.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The games continued until the stars were coming out and you all settled around a fire, snacking on fruit as a reward for all the exercise. You felt the sand shift and Atsumu plopped down beside you.

“I didn’t know you played.”

You grimaced at the slight hint of betrayal in his voice.

“I can’t seem to stay away,” you laughed, repeating his words from the fountain. “I play some pickup games here and there.”

“...and you’re all healed now?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I go to PT but the muscle has been healed for a while. I have to wear a brace when I play but it’s more out of caution.”

“It still creaks sometimes though,” you made a face.

“Still. It’s good to see you stand on a court again.”

You looked over and winced at the expression on his face. He had a wry smile that didn't suit his face and a distant look to his eyes.

“I’m sorry Atsumu.” His gaze remained trained towards the darkness of the ocean. “I realised I never apologised for treating you badly back then. I know it’s not an excuse, but I was angry and hurt and all I could think was to get away to protect myself. I couldn’t think about anything else - anyone else.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I know. I know better than anyone but god y/n, I was there for you wasn’t I?” He couldn’t help the reproach in his voice. “And you,” he bit his lip. “You just threw me away.”

With those words, Atsumu realised what he’d been feeling since your breakup all those years ago - resentment. He felt guilty for doing so and he’d pushed it deep down but it was threatening to spill out from him now.

“‘'Samu quit playing and then you left,” he said hoarsely. “You both left me alone.”

“You had your team,” you tried to argue weakly.

“Wasn’t the same.” He shook his head, broad shoulders slumping and he tucked his knees up, resting his head on them. “And you said that you would always be there for me," he said in a small voice.

This boy - no this man - had done so much for you. Back in high school and now, he remained insistent on being by your side, even when you pushed him away.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated lamely. “I can’t thank you enough for supporting me and loving me then.”

“And I’m thankful that you’re in my life again.” You reached out a hand to cover his. His palm turned and he wrapped his fingers around yours. “I know I’m late,” you hesitated, gathering your courage before taking the plunge. “I’d like to be a part of yours again, if you’d let me.”

The blonde setter finally looked at you and his eyes crinkled in a joyful manner that suddenly made you see the image of a younger, teen Miya Atsumu - the one you had loved so much. You both felt something - as if you found a missing puzzle piece fallen on the floor - placed back into its rightful place.

“I’d like that."

Epilogue

“Relax, she said she’s running late right?” A sullen boy with raven curly hair pushed Atsumu towards the court. The stadium was already loud as people waited in anticipation for the MSBY match to start.

He nodded, repeating to himself that you indeed sent him a text earlier saying you would be late. Besides, they were just warming up. The match hadn’t started yet and there was plenty of time left.

The empty seat beside Osamu seemed to mock him as he recalled the time when he ached upon seeing it empty yet again. He shook his head as if to clear it as the whistle blew to signal the teams should start warming up their serves.

“WHOO let’s go ‘'Tsumu!”

His eyes couldn’t leave your figure, clad in his jersey, lifting both your arms in the air and shaking pom poms. He let out a smile, one goofy enough that Sakusa rolled his eyes as he mouthed an ‘i love you,’ towards the stands.

He looked away triumphantly at your stunned figure as the whistle blew, this time to signal the beginning of the match. He focused his mind toward the game giddily and cemented his resolve that they would win today.

Because the seat was finally filled. You were there.

Right where you were supposed to be.

#dear lord this was long #but i kinda like it #couldn't stop writing #atsumu miya #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #astumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #hq atsumu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu imagines

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bifbm · 2 months

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I honestly don't believe that any of the batfam have their driver's licenses except Dick and Alfred.

Bruce: went on his wee batman retreat a few years after the time he should've been going for his license and was way too consumed with angst to do it before then. plus he's rich and Alfred can drive so what does it matter.

Dick: did not get his license for ages cause Bruce honestly forgot it was a thing he should probably encourage his children to get. Finally got it when he joined the police because he can't be illegally driving the police cruiser.

Jason: died at 15 and finally got back to Gotham full of rage at 17. He's reluctantly back in the family at 19 and none of the others have clicked that his drivers license is definitely fake because Jason refuses to be legally resurrected. Jason claims that he's an amazing driver anyways.

Cass: does not care to have a license and frankly does not understand road rules. despite this she gets around very quickly and no one knows how.

Steph: is desperately trying to get her license but no one can give her lessons because her mum's in rehab, Alfred's always busy, and Dick is in Bludhaven. She won't ask Jason because he doesn't know the road rules.

Tim: didn't know licenses were even a thing for wayyyy too long. only drives when he's Red Robin anyways and wouldn't be carrying a civilian license while in costume because that would be the dumbest way to reveal your identity. If he really needs to get somewhere a driver can't go he just calls Kon.

Duke: wants to go for it but is too scared to bring it up. especially when the only cars for him to practice in are WAY too expensive for his inevitable crash

Damian: too young but has definitely tried to convince Bruce to pay someone off to let him take the test

#batfam #batman #jason todd #black bat #bruce wayne #cassandra wayne #dc robin #dick grayson #nightwing #red hood #red robin #tim drake #duke thomas #signal dc #alfred pennyworth #stephanie brown #spoiler dc

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twstunes · 9 months

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(makes an au, forgets about it, abruptly remembers it, writes nearly 4k words about it)

Ramshackle Recruitment AU – from the outside in

Normally, transferring dorms at NRC requires redoing the dorm assignment ceremony. Transferring to Ramshackle dorm, however, only requires filling out some paperwork and getting approval from the Headmage. Sure, there’s still the matter of cleaning up a room to live in and getting all their stuff moved over, but it’s a much easier transfer process in comparison to the other dorms.

So, how do the other dorms feel about all this? Or, better yet: how do the housewardens react?

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Characters: all Housewardens (+ Jamil & Ortho cameos)

Notes: gn Yuu

Warnings: some spoilers for the main story

Riddle Rosehearts originally pays the matter no attention. Who in their right mind would transfer to Ramshackle? The building is dusty and decrepit, the surrounding grounds are a mess, and the so-called ‘housewarden’ can’t even use magic. Clearly Heartslabyul is the superior choice through and through, especially under his skilled leadership. Those few that decided to leave during the recent Unbirthday Party would come crawling back soon enough, and he would dole out the appropriate punishments for such insubordinate behavior.

…of course, then he catches some of his dormmates talking about transferring as well. It’s obvious that they’re just joking around, but when one of them laughs about “getting out from under that half-pint’s thumb,” Riddle sets a new record for how fast his face can go scarlet. The students involved—and even a few who just happened to be nearby at the time—are collared and assigned a 10,000 word essay on the history of Heartslabyul. They obviously don’t realize how lucky they are to have been assigned to his dorm if they’re making wisecracks like that! Riddle throws such a fit that the whole dorm winds up aware of what happened, which inadvertently causes a number of students to seriously consider transferring.

After his overblot, Riddle is…a smidge more calm about things. He’s still not happy that someone would want to transfer out of Heartslabyul, and still feels that it reflects poorly on him as housewarden. Anyone wishing to transfer to Ramshackle will have to explain their reasoning for doing so, just in case it’s due to a problem that can be easily fixed.

Riddle checks in with Yuu regularly to ask how the Heartslabyul expats are doing, if they’re following the (Ramshackle dorm) rules, so on and so forth. He also asks after Yuu themself, wanting to know how they’re faring as both a freshman and a new housewarden. Having embarrassed himself so thoroughly early on in their acquaintanceship, he really wants to rehab their view of him into something more like “a reliable upperclassman.”

However. There’s one thing he refuses to let go, and it’s the fact that Ramshackle has no ‘official’ dorm uniform. Changing their school uniform is as simple as switching out vests and ribbons, but how are students meant to present themselves during formal events?! No, they can’t just wear their ceremonial robes for everything! He’s absolutely going to keep badgering Yuu about this until they come up with a satisfactory solution.

General Heartslabyul reaction: As previously alluded to, “running off to join Ramshackle” becomes a running not-so-joke in the dorm, especially among freshmen who keep getting collared left and right. For all the talk, though, a lot of them choose to stick it out in Heartslabyul anyway—it’s just nice to know the option is there. Those who do follow through on transferring might face some light jeering from their peers, but there’s rarely any legitimate ill will involved. Transfers are more worried about how Riddle will react to the news. Prior to his overblot, he’s liable to forbid them from setting foot in Heartslabyul ever again. Afterwards, he’s just…kind of overbearing, which can make interacting with him awkward.

It’s all fun and games to Leona Kingscholar until someone transfers from Savanaclaw, which has him spending roughly the next hour or so being noticeably agitated. And then he gets over it.

Sure, he’s not pleased that someone from his dorm would rather cast their lot with the dilapidated, rickety dorm being run by a total rookie…but so long as the outgoing student isn’t mouthing off, it’s no skin off his back. The situation as a whole is too funny for him to resent for long. Some frosh poaching students from Heartslabyul, right in front of Riddle, just to irritate the guy? Priceless. Crowley not even knowing until it was too late to break up the dorm? Comedy gold. Watching Riddle and Vil get worked up over ‘losing’ students to Ramshackle? That’s what they get for constantly upbraiding their dormmates. It’s a free fireworks show to him.

Truthfully, he expects Yuu to crash and burn within the first month of playing at being a housewarden. As fun as it is to watch them get under Riddle’s skin, their lack of planning is painfully obvious. A bold opening move isn’t worth much without a good strategy to capitalize on it with. Plus, being a magicless student at a mage academy, Yuu doesn’t exactly command respect from their peers; as the threat Riddle posed starts to fade, it’ll be hard for them to keep their newfound dormmates under control.

After his overblot, when it becomes apparent that Ramshackle dorm isn’t going under anytime soon, Leona can admit to being a little impressed. There must be more to Yuu than meets the eye if they’re still holding their own as housewarden, especially after dealing with two overblots in just as many months.

That doesn’t mean he has any intention of going out of his way to help out, of course, and he’s happy to remind Yuu of that as needed. He has his own agenda to attend to, even if a solid chunk of it consists of lazing about. But if someone happens to harass another student for being in Ramshackle, and it just so happens to disturb his sleep…well, it’s on the harasser for not being more aware of their surroundings. Sloppy work on their part.

Speaking of his naps, he’s fairly consistent about taking up real estate on the Ramshackle common room’s couch. He’s been using it as a secret nap spot for years now, and he’s not about to give it up. All the other housewardens are liable to invite themselves over to Ramshackle for one reason or another, anyway, so he hardly sees why this should be a problem. And hey, would you look at that! The place is a lot less dusty nowadays. Thanks, herbivores.

General Savanaclaw reaction: Savanaclaw’s treatment of Ramshackle transfers can range from “playful heckling�� to “active ostracization.” Even if a Ramshackle-bound student is well-liked by their peers staying behind in Savanaclaw, there’s a good reason the latter dorm is often seen alongside the term ‘pack mentality.’ Once someone is out, they’re out—not just from the dorm, but from the various social groups within it as well. That said, even the meaner ones mellow out after the first time Leona gets on someone for hassling Ramshackle students. If their housewarden isn’t cool with it, then they should probably lay off…

For expectedly capitalist reasons, Azul Ashengrotto is greatly frustrated by these proceedings. Normally, a “for so long as the signatory is a resident of [insert dorm here]” clause is good enough to keep contractees firmly under his thumb for the rest of their stay at NRC. Does Yuu even realize how many Deals he has to go and re-negotiate now?? He supposes this is what he gets for thinking he could get away with not being as thorough as possible with each contract. He likely approaches Yuu to discuss the matter directly, especially if students start trying to change dorms just to render their contracts null. Of course, his version of “discussing the issue” feels, looks, and sounds a lot more like “trying to lure the Prefect into a Deal where they’re required to reject any Ramshackle applicant who has a standing contract.”

Apart from that whole headache, he’s incredibly calm about students transferring out from Octavinelle. Far be it from him, a model businessman, to discourage a fellow enterprising spirit! To tell the truth, he’s less interested in the transfers themselves and more interested in whatever Yuu is up to. Propping themself up as a housewarden despite having neither experience nor magic, getting Crowley to agree to a dorm transfer process leagues easier than the normal method, accepting just about any applicant who wants to join Ramshackle…why, NRC’s newest housewarden might be just as ambitious as himself! Post-overblot, he makes sure to notify them that even with his Deals business cut down at the knees, he’s still happy to lend a listening ear (or a helping hand) to any poor souls in need!

…which is to say, he’s getting antsy waiting for Yuu to actually do something with all the clout they’ve been accumulating. Even trying to open a competing café would make more sense than just…going about normal housewarden duties. But they have to be after something, right? It wouldn’t make sense to engineer such a perfect “rise to power” otherwise, even if it all seemed to have begun as just a way to spite Riddle. Being stuck watching and waiting like this is going to drive him nuts. To make matters worse, Floyd keeps whining that he’s going to run off to join Ramshackle dorm whenever he especially doesn’t feel like working at the Lounge. (It was funny the first couple times, admittedly, but now it’s just annoying.)

General Octavinelle reaction: The students of Octavinelle dorm might hold respect for their housewarden, but it’s also incredibly funny to watch him be inconvenienced like this. Most of them aren’t afflicted by the capitalist brain fungus Azul has going on, so they don’t see Ramshackle dorm as much more than Yuu trying to make the best of an exceedingly strange situation. The only time students from this dorm will cause a fuss about Ramshackle transfers is if they cause Mostro Lounge to be short-staffed for a shift. Azul is quick to set a rule that no one is allowed to transfer out of Octavinelle on days they’re scheduled to work.

Kalim Al-Asim is, for all intents and purposes, perfectly okay with everything! It’s sad to see people from his dorm leave, sure, and– okay, maybe it causes the people-pleasing part of his brain to itch and wonder if he’d upset them somehow, or if they don’t like him anymore or if he needs to apologize or– well, he’s fine! Really! None of that is gonna stop him from wishing them well! And besides, they’re just changing dorms. It isn’t like he’ll never see them again.

Unlike Riddle, he doesn’t check in with Yuu about how ex-Scarabia students are doing over at Ramshackle. Social butterfly that he is, he just goes and talks to them directly! He also checks in less than Riddle, though that might be because he occasionally forgets just who exactly has transferred…

Of the housewardens, Kalim is the most supportive of Yuu from the get-go, even if a lot of his support involves him delegating to Jamil in one way or another. Fortunately, as the eldest brother out of 30 kids, his Big Bro Instincts are sharp—he’s genuinely a good person for Yuu to go to if they start feeling lonely, homesick, or overwhelmed by housewarden duties. It’s amazing how much a magic carpet ride and a good talk can do!

He suggests throwing a party in celebration of the new dorm as soon as he hears about it, but Jamil is quick to talk him out of the idea. Better to save the celebrating for when (and if) Ramshackle is officially added to the lineup, rather than when it’s just Yuu, Grim, and the Heartslabyul expats squatting in a dusty old building. (And rather than when Riddle is still fuming over being ‘betrayed’ by his former dormmates. Jamil swears he could hear the guy shrieking “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD” all the way from Scarabia…)

Following Jamil’s overblot, Kalim tones down his “Jamil can help!” version of support in favor of helping out personally. Or, well, trying to help. Even for an upfront guy like him, it’s a little embarrassing to admit that he often finds himself floundering to figure out what he’s supposed to do as housewarden. He got the title dumped in his lap pretty much out of the blue, after all. From the looks of things, Yuu didn’t really plan to take on such an important role either…sooo, it’s the perfect opportunity to learn from each other!

Kalim’s probably the reason Ramshackle gets proper uniforms lbr. He feels bad that Yuu and Grim got pulled into the Scarabia mess (during vacation no less!), so he wants to make it up to them somehow. When Grim complains about how his bow got damaged during the overblot fight, it clicks—he could get Ramshackle dorm some nice uniforms done up, no problem! It’d be one less thing for Yuu to worry about, AND it would be a nice “welcome back” surprise for when the rest of the Ramshackle students return from winter break! He already has his personal tailors on standby when he pitches the idea to Yuu. (He completely forgets to run the idea by Crowley, but in his defense, the headmage isn’t answering his phone anyway.)

General Scarabia reaction: Out of all the dorms, Scarabia is the most friendly in their treatment towards Ramshackle transfers. Since Kalim is housewarden, there will almost invariably be going-away parties for the transferring students—this unintentionally causes Scarabia to have a more favorable view of the process than other dorms. They might not really understand why someone would want to transfer out of Scarabia (especially not to a dorm as dingy as Ramshackle), but hey, it’s their prerogative to do so.

Vil Schoenheit finds the situation laughable right up until someone actually tries to leave Pomefiore for Ramshackle, upon which he finds it pitiful. They want to leave Pomefiore—prestigious, comfortable, tidy Pomefiore, with all the amenities a student could need and its own private lab—for a run-down wreck of a dorm??

Later, he quietly kicks himself for not seeing this coming. He’s in charge of the Film Studies Club, for crying out loud; he should KNOW how attention-hungry his dormmates can get, chasing the spotlight whenever it presents itself. What better way to stand out than to surround themselves with less stylish peers, all while taking part in a sensational addition to the dorm lineup? It’s a cheap trick to boost their image, certainly, and Vil makes sure to give a stern lecture to anyone he catches entertaining the thought. (“Fame is earned through hard work and perseverance, not by making oneself the crown jewel of a garbage heap.”)

During his stay leading up to the SDC, he’s pleasantly surprised by the conditions at Ramshackle. Much of the building still needs patching up, and it’s very basic in terms of aesthetics, but it’s at least cleaner than he thought it would be. The other students living there seem to be doing well for themselves, too, even if all the dust has done nothing for their skin. He’s not going to say anything about it himself (at least not when he’s busy stressing out over the SDC team’s training), but Rook will probably let it slip to Yuu that Vil is impressed with how well they’re handling Ramshackle dorm.

After his overblot, Vil is…still fairly critical of both Ramshackle and its housewarden, but less disparaging overall. He can see now that he was wrong to dismiss the dorm so quickly, comparing it to an uncut gem: in need of refinement, but no less valuable for it. He’s far too busy with his own housewarden duties, modeling/acting work, and running the Film Studies Club to make it his sole mission, but he still finds the time to nag advise Yuu about their skincare, clothing care, etc. As a housewarden, they’re among the best NRC has to show to the world; they need to present themselves accordingly.

(Needless to say, Vil is holding Epel back by the scruff of the neck. If he has to become a one-man PR team for Harveston to keep this feral country boy in Pomefiore, he will.)

General Pomefiore reaction: Most Pomefiore students aren’t quiet in their contempt for their former dormmates, even if they do offer praise for “bringing a higher standard of beauty” to Ramshackle. A number of them combine their condescension with genuine concern, though, reminding the transfers that they can always come back to Pomefiore if things don’t work out. There’s no shame in admitting they made the wrong choice, after all! (…well. Maybe a little shame.)

Idia Shroud is a little baffled by the whole concept, but otherwise the most neutral of the housewardens. Sure, he briefly considers changing over to Ramshackle to escape being housewarden, but…ehhh. The fact he’d be dealing with a bunch of outgoing normies is a dealbreaker. Better to stay in Ignihyde with its unmatched Wi-fi and folks who understand his reclusive, nerdy ways. Housewarden is a pretty cool title anyway, even if its required questline is a pain sometimes.

He is a bit worried that students transferring from Ignihyde might reflect poorly on him as a housewarden, but…nah he actually couldn’t care less. Big “wow, that’s wild. GLHF tho” energy. He makes a token effort of calming Azul down whenever the guy works himself into a tizzy trying to figure out what Yuu is “angling for”—it’s pretty obvious (to him) that they’re just collecting allied units to help mitigate any plot-mandated threats that come their way. It’s not like they have any magic of their own to work with, so this is the next best thing.

The dread only sets in when Azul points out that Crowley will probably ask Idia to make sure Ramshackle is covered by the school’s security system sometime soon. It’d be cheaper than hiring a licensed electrician, and Idia wouldn’t really be able to deny the request, seeing as his shut-in behavior is only being allowed in exchange for him personally seeing to NRC’s security…man, what a pain. Getting scans of the building layout and planning where to put what would be a cinch, but just thinking about dealing with whatever nightmare wiring situation Ramshackle has going on sends his blood pressure skyrocketing. Maybe if he doesn’t say anything, it’ll slip the Headmage’s mind…

Post-overblot, Idia is fairly determined to never show his face around Ramshackle dorm, ever. Hepta team caused a lot of damage while capturing Vil and Jamil, and more than a few students got hurt in the process. AND they kidnapped Grim! Everything gets fixed up in the end, but most of the dorm is still justifiably unhappy with Idia.

Though he cautions Ortho against going over too frequently, Ortho doesn’t share the same reservations as his brother. He even volunteers them both to help do more renovations to the dorm! In-person, at that! Between getting the Wi-fi set up, improving the heating & AC, and replacing/repairing various kitchen appliances, Idia just barely manages to redeem himself in the eyes of most Ramshackle residents. He can feel his soul dying through every second of social contact.

At least Ramshackle no longer has wiring problems?

General Ignihyde reaction: Students from Ignihyde rarely consider changing dorms at all, so when someone does decide to take the plunge and transfer to Ramshackle, it’s a surprise to the whole dorm. Some students lament that they’re losing a fellow geek to The Normies™, some make bets on how long they’ll last before they come running back to Ignihyde, but most return to doing their own thing after the shock wears off. Those closer to the outgoing student might put together an Ignihyde-style going-away party—that is, they play video games together in the same room and eat snacks. The roughest part of the transition is being removed from the Ignihyde groupchat.

(Note: this is being written prior to the eng release of the Diasomnia arc and I am fighting for my life to not witness any spoilers)

Malleus Draconia finds himself growing increasingly amused the more he hears about Ramshackle dorm. His favorite abandoned building is certainly going through a metamorphosis, isn’t it? And he somehow stumbled into a friendship with the new housewarden, too…this year is proving to be an interesting one.

Like Leona, it doesn’t matter much to him if students from his dorm leave for Ramshackle, so long as they’re not badmouthing Diasomnia in the process. The only ones he would notice the absence of are those who would never transfer to begin with. He doesn’t make a point of checking in on former Diasomnia students, though he may ask how they’re settling in if he happens to encounter them—which is a much more likely scenario than they realize!

It quickly becomes a running joke that the Diasomnia transfers never really leave Diasomnia, considering how often they run into Malleus over at Ramshackle. They probably see him more frequently now than when they were still in his dorm, actually! When asked about it, he explains that housewarden Yuu was kind enough to extend him a standing invitation to visit the dorm as he pleases. Who is he to turn down such a gracious offer? (Also, it’s funny how awkward some of his former dormmates get upon spotting him.)

(He’s also a little smug whenever someone asks “What brings you here?” and he gets to respond with “I was invited.” Especially if it’s another housewarden. And especially if the other housewarden showed up without an invitation at all. Which is most of them, most of the time.)

As fond as Malleus was of the old, abandoned Ramshackle building, he finds he enjoys this new version of it as well. Maybe even more so. The lively bustle of dorm life fills up the structure now, some amount of sound seeping in from around every corner. Even at night, the hush that pervades the halls is gentle—a far cry from the suffocating, empty silence of before. The restoration work is tasteful, too, preserving the original aesthetics and architectural style while making the whole deal more habitable. And, thanks to Yuu and Grim’s combined influence, the students there are much less timid about approaching him than the rest of NRC. All of this change, compacted into such a short timespan…

…it’s odd. For some reason, recalling how deserted Ramshackle used to be makes his chest hurt.

He winds up with much to think about during his nightly walks.

General Diasomnia reaction: Despite their housewarden being perfectly fine with people transferring out, the idea of someone “defecting” leaves a sour taste in the mouths of most Diasomnia students. Unless a transfer happens to be especially well-liked, they can expect to be treated rather coldly by their former dormmates. Fortunately, this behavior lessens as the bizarreness of transferring to Ramshackle wears off—and especially after it comes out that Malleus considers Yuu a friend. (Some of them still cause a fuss, of course.) (By which I mean Sebek.)

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland au #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #ramshackle recruitment au #twisted rambling

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