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#in short: her dad is pretty chill and cool but her mom is Not
immobiliter · 2 years
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ROBIN BUCKLEY - biography  /  homelife
Robin's family tree began with a young Italian beauty called Franca de Felise, who immigrated to Clinton, Indiana in the late 19th century with her three brothers, all searching for a better life than the rural poverty they had grown up in and been orphaned by in Southern Italy. She went on to dazzle and marry an American carpenter, Thomas Buckley, for love a few years after arriving and the pair settled in a small town called Hawkins, where they had three children.
The eldest, Christian, grew up and made it his life mission to expand his father's business, branching out to Indianapolis where he met and fell for a young secretary in a passionate romance. However, when it came to the matter of marriage, her fiancé's insistence on being close to his mother in Hawkins following his father's death from ill health, as well as a looming pregnancy, meant that, for the young Susan Quincey, any high-flying career as a PA to a wealthy businessman in Manhattan or L.A was derailed. Almost overnight, she became a stay-at-home housewife, primarily responsible for looking after their new daughter Robin, born in March 1968.
Christian abandoned any plans to expand the family business so that he could remain close to his mother, and the family's finances took a hit. With his father gone, his focus was entirely on keeping the carpentry business afloat in Hawkins, which meant making certain sacrifices in order to keep his family fed. He could not be described as entirely absent from Robin's life (his mother had instilled the importance of family into him from a young age), but he would work long days and weekends throughout her childhood and the times he was around became very special to her. Despite these lengthy absences, Robin was always far closer to her father than she was to her mother.
Susan Buckley would never outwardly admit that she resented her daughter for robbing her of a successful career and life outside of the trappings of the mid-west, but the feeling would permeate nonetheless into the way Robin was treated. While at high school in Indianapolis, Susan had been top of her class, popular, and a cheerleader ---- completely normal, in other words. That made any initial signs that Robin was slow to develop as a toddler difficult to deal with: the story that she took six months longer to learn to walk than all of the other babies became one that was repeated over and over in Susan's social circle, and all of Robin's accomplishments (or lack thereof) as a child were constantly compared to her peers.
Robin's struggles with her coordination and social skills, as well as her loner attitude at elementary school, were issues that Susan believed could be solved by enrolling her daughter in extracurricular activities. Robin was given the choice of a sport and she picked the soccer team, which she continued to be a part of until her sophomore year of high school, and she was enrolled in marching band, where she learned the trumpet. She continued in marching band throughout her school career, giving her the comfortable label of band nerd that she embraced as her allotted place in the Hawkins High food chain. To deviate in any way from that label would be dangerous.
Robin's parents' marriage was not loveless, but it remained strained throughout her upbringing, with neither side willing to concede to divorce. Christian had been brought up to prioritise family as the most important thing in the whole world, and he would often be the one to concede and try to make things work between husband and wife, while Susan was too afraid of the reputational harm leaving her husband might cause. Instead, she sought to live vicariously through her daughter's achievements, which put extra strain on the relationship between mother and daughter as Robin never showed the desire nor aptitude (at least in her mind) for the kind of high-flying career that her mother had always wanted for herself.
Italian was spoken frequently whenever her uncles or nonna visited, and knowing that her family originated from Europe inspired Robin to take a particular interest in the learning of languages as a teenager, opting to teach herself French and Spanish with the aid of language tapes and dictionaries since the school system didn't offer the subjects as electives. As for her actual school subjects, the pressure from her mom ensured that Robin maintained a good enough GPA and grades across the board, although deep down she despised the rigid structure of the school system.
Expressing herself became a tightrope walk between keeping her mom happy and flying under the radar at school: where she couldn't physically escape from this town and its monotonous chokehold on all who lived here, movies and books took her to distant lands where things might be different. A disastrous attempt to audition for the school play made Robin resolve to stay in the background, helping out with set design behind the scenes. And then there was the matter of boyfriends, a topic of conversation so spectacularly uninteresting that Robin had to wonder whether she was simply wired differently to all of the other teenagers at Hawkins High.
As soon as she reached her sophomore year, Robin got her first job at the movie theatre in town, allowing her to somewhat alleviate her dad's financial concerns and begin raising the funds for what was her biggest rebellion to date: Operation Croissant. Her plan to run away to Europe didn't quite work out the way she planned, but she still plans to leave Hawkins one day --- even if it means enduring a whole summer working at Scoops Ahoy alongside Steve Harrington.
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Puzzle Pieces // J. Todd x f!reader
Requested? Yes!
Warnings: discussions of pregnancy, allusion to abortion, pregnancy scare, emotions
Summary: You and Jason are doing a last minute grocery run when you walk by the period products and realize that you’re late. You’re never late. One negative test, however, could change everything.
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“Jay?”
It was the cadence of your voice that alerted something was wrong. A subtle hitch at the end of his name that sent a wave of icy cold chills down his spine. He turned from where he was collecting a massive amount of cup ramen and stared blankly at the thin box in your hand.
Jason was due to go out in an hour, but the two of you realized belatedly that you were out of ingredients for breakfast in the morning. There were two options: run by the corner store and grab some things or send you out alone in the morning while he slept in.
Jason Peter Todd would have to be six feet underground again before sending you out into Gotham when he knew that all the active vigilantes were fast asleep. If you were venturing out alone, it would be when someone was awake.
That found you two in the corner store near your apartment, snickering and trading jokes over your shoulders as you shuffled through the aisles. You were clad in one of his sweatshirts that practically drowned you in the cotton fabric and some basketball shorts underneath that he’s pretty sure you stole from Steph. He kept a close eye on you, his body inching around in the smallest increments to ensure that, no matter what, he was always between you and the door. He’d be damned if he lost the one good thing in his life.
“I…I didn’t realize, but then I saw the pads and…I’m late.” Panic was evident in your voice and no matter how desperately he wanted to fucking throw up in the middle of the bodega right then and there, Jason needed to keep it calm and cool right now. He quickly placed the ramen cups back on the counter and reached out, taking the pregnancy test out of your hand.
“Okay,” he said simply. One of his calloused hands came up and rested on your cheek, cradling your face. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, but he could feel the slight tremble in your body.
Fuckfuckfuck. He was on autopilot as he approached the counter, tossed a twenty onto the plastic shelf, and walked out with a pregnancy test in one hand and yours clasped in the other. Jason wants to say something, the right words or placating phrase that will make this all better but he can’t because he can’t fucking think about anything except for the fact that he will be the worst goddamn father on the planet.
Pregnant. Fucking hell. You could be pregnant. They were usually so careful. You were on the pill and he made sure you took it religiously. How the fuck could you be pregnant? He couldn’t be a dad. Willis had been a piece of shit who beat Catherine and basically fucked off into the sunset, leaving him and his mom to fend for themselves. Jason had been just a kid yet he picked his mom up off the ground when she was high out of her mind. Then there was Bruce…
Jason ushered you into the apartment and nudged you gently towards the bathroom. He made sure to lock up behind you and then slowly walked to your bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe and took a moment, just one single moment, to inhale deeply. He needed to be steady and calm for you. He could freak out later when he was patrolling.
Shit, he needed to be suited up and patrolling the Bowery in an hour.
“Babe?” he asked, his knuckles gently hitting the door. You murmured out a quiet welcome and he slipped in before shutting the door behind him. You were curled up against the tub, staring blankly at the wall, and the test rested on the edge of the tub face down.
Jason sat down on the floor across from you and leaned back against the sink. He stretched his legs out and motioned for you to shuffle over to him. “C’mere, sweetheart.”
You dragged yourself across the cold tile floor and settled yourself between his legs, your head resting on his chest. Pressing your ear against the warm scratchy fabric of his shirt and relaxed at the sound of his heartbeat.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“Christ, babe, why the hell’re you apologizing?”
“I don’t know,” you sobbed. “We’ve never talked about it. God, Jase, we’re barely adults ourselves. We’re still trying to figure out how to take care of Merry and Pippin, for fuck’s sake!” You were referencing, of course, the two cats Jason had rescued from a dumpster one night that now slept every night cuddled up against you. Jason had insisted that they were only staying for the night to get them out of the cold.
That had been three months ago and the furry little bastards were currently asleep on top of your pillows.
“Hey, hey.” His lips brushed across the crown of your head as he shushed you. You were shaking in his arms and he hated this. He hated not being able to protect you. Hell, he’s the one that got you into this situation.
“No matter what happens, I’m all in, okay?” His voice sounded weak to his own ears, but you needed to hear this as much as he did. “Whatever you choose, I will support you all the way, you got that?”
“But what if…”
“Sweetheart, you’re the one in control of your body. Whatever you choose will be the best choice for us.”
You fisted the front of his shirt in your hand and bit back a sob. Jason scruffed the back of your neck in a loving gesture, his other arm curling around your waist and tugging you impossibly closer. Jason felt helpless and for a man accustomed to beating the shit out of his problems, he hated that he couldn’t fix this for you.
Your phone started to sing a little chime and you sniffled, reaching over to shut it off. “That means it’s ready. I…I can’t do it.”
He soothed his hand over your hip and kissed your temple. “I’ll do it.”
Truth be told, Jason was terrified. He tried to ignore the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for the bathtub. He didn’t know how he would react to whatever that little stick said. Christ on a handbasket, one little mathematical symbol might change his entire life. He loved being a brother, not that he would ever tell the little gaggle of brats, and he loved being an uncle to Lian, but a father? Could he do that?
There was one thing he didn’t doubt. You would be the best mother in the world. Fiercely loyal, kind, caring, didn’t put up with his bullshit…he could almost picture a toddler on your hip as you smiled at it. But he didn’t see himself there.
Maybe this was a sign that he had tried clinging to his ill-fated happiness for too long.
“Bubs?” Your murmur knocked him out of his thoughts and Jason shook his head.
“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“‘S okay,” you said. “I get it.”
Jason inhaled sharply and then flipped over the test. His shoulders dropped at the sight of the minus sign and he extended the test to you. You clasped your hands over the little stick and bowed your head.
Silence enveloped the small, cramped bathroom. Jason studied the broken tile over by the toilet and made a mental note on looking into how to recaulk the shower tiles. They needed another bulb over the sink and maybe a better shower head. Hell, maybe they should paint the bathroom. Anything would be better than the garish lime green the landlord thought would make it look “70s mod”.
“I don’t know what to think,” you finally croaked out. You shuffled out of his hold and turned to face him. His head snapped up and he met your eyes, finding them red rimmed with tears clinging to the edges of your lashes. Jason scooted forward and laid a heavy hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth.
“Talk to me,” he urged. Selfishly, he needed to hear you voice your thoughts because he was fucking terrified that one day he would come home and find all of your things gone. This life couldn’t be easy for you. He needed to stop doing this shit to you. You deserved a better life.
“I think I need some time to process,” you admitted. “Can I…can we talk about this after you get back?”
That sinking feeling in his chest now felt like leaden rock in his gut. He might prefer a crowbar to the chest instead of the dread that currently consumed him.
“I’m not mad at you,” you blurted out once you saw the wounded look cross his face before he schooled his features like he had been trained. “I’m just feeling a lot of stuff right now and I want to be able to think it out before I say something stupid. I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.”
You reached out and touched his cheek. He turned his head to lay a featherlight kiss against your palm and then stood. “I’ll be home by four.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He was off his game all night. Jason nearly got shot twice when he finally called it quits and let Steph and Cass take on the Bowery. Dick had tried coaxing out why he was in a piss poor mood, but Jason merely muted his comms and shoved the little device in his pocket. His helmet sat next to him on the roof ledge, leaving him in just a red domino mask.
It was creeping towards three and the tiniest light began to creep across the horizon. The inky black night sky dominated Gotham still and Jason took a little solace in the fact that he was cloaked by the shadows.
It wasn’t enough to hide him from Bruce.
The large shadow of his adoptive father landed beside him. Jason didn’t bother turning to look at him and instead focused straight ahead at the slowly rising sun. Bruce silently sat next to him on the roof, his legs dangling over the side.
Side by side, just like they had all those years ago when Jason was still dressed up as a traffic light and Bruce had been…lighter, for lack of a better word.
“Pregnancy scare,” Jason finally admitted. He knew Bruce wouldn’t ask, but he also knew that Bruce wouldn’t leave until he got a clue as to why Jason was sulking on a rooftop instead of beating the face in of some wannabe trafficker.
Bruce stiffened just slightly and Jason huffed out a laugh. “Relax, it was negative.”
“I thought you would be relieved,” Bruce said. None of his kids had ever expressed any interest in reproducing. In fact, Alfred had money on them picking up his serial adoption habits. Clark was in on the bet too. Bastards.
“I’d be a shit dad,” Jason grunted. “I’d fuck that kid up in the head and probably leave it out on the streets like Willis.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Bruce said it so calmly. So matter of factly. He said it as if it was the truth engraved in granite.
Jason barked out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, and you’re father of the year, right? You get to bestow that honor on the next asshole?”
There was a slight twitch in Bruce’s jaw, one that no one would notice unless you were one of his family members. His piercing gaze stared out on the city he loved so desperately and then he looked at the son he had lost so painfully.
“You would be an amazing father because you would ensure that you didn’t make the same mistakes Willis and I made.”
Jason sucked in a sharp breath at his father’s soft words. He clenched his jaw shut and shook his head. A gloved hand landed on his shoulder and Jason raised his head, meeting the white lenses of the cowl so many feared.
“You love this city so much that you are willing to go to lengths that I can’t bring myself to do. You do things I don’t approve of, but you do it because you care so much that you feel the pain the people feel. You love deeply, Jaylad, you always have. I failed you as a father so many times. I should have never let you become Robin. I should have never let any of you out in the field. You were…you were just a kid.
But the one thing I will never regret is bringing you into our home and our family. Being your father has brought me the greatest sorrow and immense joy of my life and I would never, ever give that up.”
Bruce pulled away and stood up. “You should go home. Talk.”
Jason swallowed against the growing lump in his throat and nodded. “Right. Thanks. Fuck you or whatever.”
Batman’s lips quirked up at the corner and then he sighed. “Nice to see you too, Hood.”
Jason waited until he slipped back into the shadows before he pulled on his helmet and grappled back to the Bowery. He landed on his fire escape and quickly slid in through the window. His entry disturbed Merry who had been sleeping on the windowsill. The cat hissed at him and then hopped down, probably in search of his brother.
“Sorry,” he whispered to the cat. God, he was so whipped.
“Bubs?” Your tired voice came from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen. Jason closed and locked the window and headed towards you. All the lights in the apartment were off except for the small, single bulb that hung over the kitchen. It bathed you in a warm light, highlighting the tired circles under your eyes.
A lukewarm mug of tea and a thousand piece puzzle was scattered on the table before you, your usual routine when you couldn’t sleep and decided to stay up and wait for him. Jason stripped off his gloves, weapons, and jacket and dumped them on the floor and then he tugged off his helmet.
You loved seeing him right after patrol. Not only were you able to reassure yourself that he was safe, but you also got to see him when he was in his element. Sweat strands of hair curled across his forehead and beads of moisture trailed down his neck before seeping into the collar of his undershirt. His powerful thighs were bracketed by his tactical pants and thigh holsters and you sighed at the mere sight of his legs.
“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” Jason teased. His voice was warm, but it lacked the confidence he normally possessed. You curled your hand around the bottom hem of his shirt and tugged him closer, your lips meeting his in a delicate kiss. His hand came up to cup your jaw and he deepened the kiss.
“I want a baby.” The words spilled out of you faster than you could rein in the thought. Jason’s eyes widened and you cursed under your breath.
“You want…a baby,” he repeated.
“With you. I want a baby with you. Not right now. Not even this year. But, I want a kid someday with you. When I saw that negative, I was relieved and then I was-”
He cut you off. “Disappointed. You were disappointed because for a moment, you thought about it and realized that you actually wanted this. Just not right now.”
You nodded and pushed his curly, sweat-drenched hair back from his face. “A little boy with your eyes and smile.”
“Or a little girl with your hair and attitude.”
“I want that, bubs,” you assured him. “I want it all with you. A kid, a life, a house with a picket fence and two point five kids or whatever the fuck the American Dream is supposed to be.”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he replied in a choked voice. “I’m not a good man, sweetheart.”
Now you stood. You pulled his head down so his forehead pressed against yours and you rested your other hand on his chest, right over his heart.
“Don’t you dare say that to me, Jason Peter Todd,” you said fiercely. “You are the only man I love. The only man I trust. I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone other than you. I want it all, the good and the bad. You do so much for me and for this city.”
Your hand smoothed down the hair on the back of his neck. “Let me take care of you for once. Let me protect you from that mind of yours. I want to have a baby with you, bubs, because I trust you more than anyone that you would love and cherish and protect us with your entire being.”
“I would crawl out of a grave and dip into the Lazarus pit again and again if it meant keeping you safe,” he whispered fiercely.
“I know.” Tears were spilling down your cheeks. “I love you, Jason. So much.”
He clasped his hand over the one that rested on his chest. All of the doubts and insecurities started to ebb away with your gentle touch and soothing words. He burned with the very thought of you filled with a reminder of him. A signal that he was somehow lucky enough, good enough, blessed to be able to worship you the way you deserved.
Jason slid one of his hands under your ass and hauled you up so your legs wrapped around his waist. He scooted past the now cuddling cats and headed towards the bathroom as you laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“What are you doing?” you exclaimed as he sat you down on the sink counter. Jason reached for the back of his shirt and shot you an incredulous look.
“What does it look like I’m doing? Strip, we need to practice.”
The sun emerged from the darkness finally and bathed Gotham in a rare cloudless sky, but it went unnoticed to the two of you. You were, well, busy.
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necromaniackat · 8 months
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Cherry Cola
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There were three things you were most certain about. First, you were unquestionably in love with Billy Loomis. Second, Billy and Stu Macher were the Woodsborro murderers. And finally, you were willing to keep it a secret.
Chapter 1: Carefully Selected
Woodsboro – a quiet little town in Northern California. Nothing happens here. That’s why your mom picked this place. It’s safe.
It’s boring, nothing exciting has happened in the four days you’ve been here. There was no traffic or sirens blaring constantly, or even the sound of colourful people out in the street. This made you a little upset with your mom – you didn’t want to move but you were seventeen so you had to go with her otherwise the law would be on your tails. You missed Calabasas but your mom kept chanting that this was a good fresh start.
“This’ll be good for you. A fresh start away from all that noise back in L.A,” your mom reiterated for the millionth time. The golden morning sun hung low in the sky, melting the coolness on the grass. The aroma of freshly cut grass filled the chilled but warming air. You had your window rolled down, the breeze flowing through your hair.
“I liked it better in L.A,” you pouted.
“What was better in L.A? Hmm?” Your mom snapped finally.
“My dad,” you replied bitterly.
“If your dad wanted to be apart of your life then he’d be here, not with his new family,” she snarled at you coldly. You were too stunned to speak. It doesn’t matter how many times your mom throws that in your face it still renders you speechless. She knew your dad was a tender spot for you. You haven’t seen him since the summer but you haven’t talked to him in a few weeks. Not since….
You mentally shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts of what happened a few weeks ago. You didn’t even look at your mom – you merely sank lower in the font seat with your arms tied over your small chest. This was your form of mild rebellion, that and your newest taste for fashion. Today you sported a black mini pencil skirt with black tights on underneath and a baggy, black, bleach stained tee shirt under a black hoodie you’d sewn red horns onto the hood.
“Couldn’t you have worn something a little more appropriate?” Your mom questioned with disgust in her voice. “–I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be wearing such a revealing outfit,” she added her opinion.
“What’s wrong with my clothes? I’m literally covered from head to toe,” you defended, looking out the window. Your brows had drawn together. You were curious as to what she can find to dislike about you today. Because this is an every day kind of thing. Your mom has a problem with every move you make. You can never win so you say fuck it and deal.
“The skirt, it’s too short. You’re seventeen, you don’t need to be wearing things like that,” she claimed.
“It’s not even that short, mom. It only looks it because I’m sitting.” You rolled your eyes as you looked over at her with disapproving written all over your face Your mom stole a few quick glances between keeping an eye on the road. She frowned and let out a sigh.
“Also with the makeup, Riley?” she complained. You glowered at her, narrowing your icy blue eyes. A twinge of rage knotted in your lower abdomen. You wanted so badly to go off on her – seventeen years of rage just building and building inside you.
“What’s wrong with my makeup?” You growled, turning your attention to out the windshield.
“What’s wrong with it? It’s too dark. You’re a pretty girl, Riley. Maybe ask some girls at this new school for some tips on how to look lively and youthful. Y’know, like you used to.” We’re your mom’s criticisms about your appearance. She had every right to be shocked because in the matter of a day you went from a preppy schoolgirl cheerleader with beautiful long blonde hair to choppy shoulder length dyed hair, nose piercing, new dark academia/grunge aesthetic wardrobe and new taste in music in a day. Of course this was the day you rebelled against society and mainly your mom. And no, it wasn’t because a boy broke up with you and you had a “mental breakdown”. No, it was far worse.
You frowned, sitting up. You grabbed your bag, opening the car door and climbing out as quickly as possible. You heard your mom trying to make the situation better but was cut off when you closed the car door. You slung your bag over your shoulder and walked the last block to the school. Bitterness puckered at your lips – you wanted so badly to rip into her the same way she rips into you all the time. Your mom has always been extremely critical of you, the same way she was with your dad. The only difference is, you’re stuck with your mom meanwhile your dad pays child support and gets unsupervised visits with you once in a while. You doubted that’d happen now; your dad was still in Los Angeles while you were here in this butt-fuck-nowhere town in Northern California mid first semester. Your mom couldn’t have moved you guys to a city? In cities being the new kid isn’t that big of a deal. But in small towns new kids aren’t really a thing. And these kids, your peers, they’ve grown up together. No amount of time or quality of relationships will ever top that kind of bond.
You didn’t mean to but you glanced over your shoulder to see your mom and gone. You were stopped dead in your tracks. Your heart broke a bit inside your chest. You didn’t think she’d just leave you like that without trying to get you back into the car, or making sure you got to school alright.
You exhaled heavily, turning on your heel and heading back towards the school. You wished you brought your Walkman so you could listen to music but alas, you were left with your thoughts. You were left with the knowing that everything changed so fast. Two weeks ago you were planning a sleepover with your friends in a school you’d been attending since ninth grade with people you’ve known the majority of your life and now you were the new kid in town with no friends, no family and no reputation you’ve worked so hard to create.
Students were gathered in groups outside the school – you felt eyes on you the moment you started walking up the path to the front doors. Anxiety filled your stomach as you wandered through the crowd. You preyed they didn’t know anything about you or what happened at your last school.
You went directly to the office once you were inside.
“Hello dear,” the administrator greeted. You sauntered to the desk, adjusting your bag on you shoulder.
“Hi, um, my name is Riley Devins. I’m the new girl. I’m supposed to come to the office to get my time table,” you explained honestly. The admin, a woman in her mid to late forties with snowy white hair and coke bottle glasses, hummed in response before turning her attention to the stack of files on the desk to her right.
“Oh here it is!” She cheered happily, turning back towards you with a friendly smile. “–Here’s your time table and a map of the school just in case you get lost. As well as your locker number and combination, and other info you may need,” she listed, handing you the small stack of papers that were neatly held together with a paper clip. You took the papers from her with a mental sigh. You knew you were going to be the new student soon, when you go off to college but you never thought you’d be the new student mid first semester.
You went to turn around when your body collided with what felt like a brick wall, but really it was just another student. You dropped the papers and your bag slipped off your shoulder; everything went tumbling to the ground.
“Hey watch it!” You cried in defence. You looked up at the person who bumped into you. It was a guy – he was average height with boy band hair and sparkling brown eyes. He had dropped his bag as well.
“My apologies your Highness,” he responded. Your blood boiled at the pet name he gave you. You disliked it when people would call you princess, or anything like that. It made you feel guilty. You were spoiled by both your parents growing up – it was their way of making up for divorcing shortly after you were born. If you wanted to learn ballet then your parents would make it happen. If you wanted the newest electronic your parents would buy you two, one from each of them. You were very blessed growing up and you hated to admit it but you used your parents’ guilt to your advantage. That’s why you felt so guilty. Then everything was ruined a few weeks ago.
“Asshole,” you sneered under your breath. You went to bend down to pick up your belongings when you felt something hard strike your temple causing you to jump upright in surprise. The guy was rubbing a spot on his forehead as he looked you up and down.
You did the same, noting he was wearing a blue checkered button up with blue jeans that were baggy on his muscular but slender frame. His dirty blond hair was parted down the middle – making the way his hair sat look a bit like devil horns. He had obvious California sun kissed skin. This made his endless brown eyes seem deeper and darker. You swore you were drowning in them.
“Mr. Loomis, is there a reason you’re in the office?” The admin asked from behind you. The guy, Mr. Loomis, didn’t break away his eyes – he had you in his sights and you felt so small under his stare. But also something else; it was a familiar feeling but you couldn’t quite place it.
“No,” he uttered, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Finally, his stare broke when he left the office. Leaving you completely stunned and confused. All this happened in the space of perhaps two minutes.
You frowned disapprovingly before kneeling down to pick up your papers and bag. The bell rang to bring the students in for home room. You took a deep breath, leaving the office and going to your locker to drop off your bag and grab the supplies you’d need for the morning.
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@vaporvipermedia Here she is! Yume and Idia's fanchild. Iliana Shroud! (She's 9 years old in this pic) 🔆Fun fact: I didn't choose her name it was randomly assigned by me and @bunnwich sims game when SOMEONE decided to adopt a baby when we went to another house for literally 2 days >:[
🔆 The name Iliana (ill-lain-a.) means ray of light; from Illium or Troy. Iliana is a feminine name of Greek origin. This name likely finds its roots in the Greek word “hēlios”, which means “ray of light” or “sun” and may even be a form of the name Helen, best known in Greek mythology as the most beautiful woman in the world. So her full name roughly translates to "a light in the darkness".
🔆 Pretty chill and well-adjusted kid given the circumstances! Though she has a tendency to come off as a little "creepy". To people given her looks and sharp teeth. (Her happy sweet smile can be unnerving to people just like Idia's)
🔆Traditional gender roles means little to Yume and Idia but for Iliana it almost doesn't exist. She calls Yume mom or dad based purely on how they are feeling that day, and if she's not sure just calls Yume "Dimi" short for the Greek word δημιουργός (dimiourgós), meaning 'creator'.
🔆(I have a running 'joke' that she was accidentally created in a lab when Idia accidentally mixed his and Yume's DNA together bc he was lowkey researching a way to break the Shroud curse.) So sometimes she'll call Idia 'mom' too bc the Greek word for mother (Μητέρα ) literally means "one who gives birth" and in this scenario...that was technically Idia LOL.
🔆Idia 100% has her chipped but its in the form of a pretty necklace that also monitors her vitals/health. All of them have similar matching ones so they can know they are safe, except for Ortho's which checks on his system and functions.
🔆Idia 100% carried her ass around in a baby carrier while doing S.T.Y.X. duty, never letting her out of his or Yume's sight. Even when Yume says they can take care of her while he works, he doesn't wanna miss time with her.
🔆Yume has their own job in the future which makes them have to travel a lot! (Luckily its magic so they can usually come back home to Idia the same day.) But sometimes they have to be gone from work for months. Sometimes they take Iliana with them and other times she stays with Idia and Ortho. Idia gets really sulking during these times, but doesn't ultimately doesn't want his kid cooped up and trapped like he was as a child.
It's a delicate balance but they all still talk every day via voice or video chat wherever they are. For a good half of the year they can all be together, which is the best!
🔆Idia and Yume argue about whether or not she should be homeschooled (Iida pro and Yume anti) eventually Yume wins and on her first day of school Iliana is cool as a cucumber while Idia is on the verge of tears dont @ me. She has to comfort him.
🔆Grim still lives with Yume in the future and as such in his free time is a babysitter. He acts like its a big deal and beneath his amazing skills but he loves her just as much and would 100% kill for her. When she was younger he let her ride on his back. (This made Tiana very jealous bc Grim would not let her do it, bc cats hate each other lol)
🔆 She likes cats but really wants to get a dog in the future and is always trying to convince her parents!
🔆She "Hacked" in Yume's phone to get Uncle Leona's phone number just to ask him to play chess online with her.
🔆Leona doesn't mind spending time with her cuz she's a chill kid and doesn't bug him for much. (This makes Tiana super mad too! lol) 🔆She really loves her cousin Tiana and considers her to be her best friend.
There's lots more, but this got too long already...so yeah.
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To everyone in a relationship: what do you think of your partners parents/what do they think of you?
Ludwig: "Oh, Peasley's mom LOVES me!!! She's a real sweet lady and is VERY affectionate! I can definitely see where Peasley gets his personality from. She's kinda loud and a bit hyper... In a fun way, of course!! Lots of energy! I know that Peasley is very close with her, and I can see why! Oh yeah, she insists on having tea and chatting with me for a bit whenever I see her. Apparently, Peasley tells her EVERYTHING! So she knows a lot about me already! Oh yeah, I've never met Peasley's dad, though... He says that he's a cool, chill person. And also, he does cocaine...? I'm... Very curious to meet this man..."
Lemmy: "I haven't seen Motley's mom much... She has to work a lot... I've only seen her in person once or twice. She is very, very sweet, and extremely jumpy... She appears stressed a lot. Overwhelmed by the world, I'd say. She's also super short. Not much taller than Ludwig. I sorta want to get to know her more... Oh yeah, and from what I've been told, Motley's dad ran away before she was even born to run a circus. So... I doubt I'm ever going to meet him. Not that I'd want to, considering what he did."
Larry: "Nabbit and I are partners in crime! I never met his dad, but I've heard a lot!! Popple is, like, the smartest criminal around! I hope Nabbit takes me to his house one day so I can get to know such a legend! Oh yeah, and Nabbit's mom is in jail, apparently... Big oof."
Roy: "I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting Madame Broode... But from what both Hariet and Spewart have told me, she works a second job and goes to the casino on her off time, so she's not home often. It's been said that when she is home, she's a nice mother figure, if not a little clingy and overprotective at times... Very emotional, loud, somewhat unpredictable, and can be quite the gossiper, too! Has opinions on everything. I do want to get to meet her at some point!!"
Iggy: "Ooh... I didn't know any of that. Yeah, I've never met Rango's mom." :/
Roy: "Their mom is dead, Iggy. And their dad. Madame Broode is their aunt."
Iggy: "Oh wow!!"
Roy: "Maybe if you ever listened to Rango, you'd know that."
Iggy: >:0
Peasley: "Luddy doesn't really have parents... I know that his biological parents have passed away, and he's not close to Lord Bowser whatsoever... If anything, I guess Roy would be his father figure...? Which is fine with me 'cuz Roy seems pretty cool!!"
Motley: "Oh, I thought Roy was Lemmy's father... Well, either way, Roy seems like a cool guy! I wish he could be my dad!"
Nabbit: *Shrugs* "I don't have a 'partner,' so this question doesn't apply to me."
Hariet: "Lord Bowser would LOVE me if we got the chance to talk!! I'm great with royalty!!"
Spewart: "The king isn't really... Eh, nevermind..."
Rango: *Shrugs* "As far as I know, Iggy's an orphan."
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inlocusmads · 2 months
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1 for Nora, 2 for Killian, 5 for the OC of your choice
#1 for Nora:
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Nora has precisely one family member who is her uncle Tommy and yes, of course she tells him where she is. It's usually texts and calls whenever they're free and that's pretty much it. Nothing too unique there. If Nora goes to a place where there's no proper cell service, she just ends up emailing him.
Straying away a bit here: Nora's phone calls to literally anyone is so short lol. It's the most precise thing ever, mostly because she kind of grew up in a household where her parents would only phone each other if they were not reachable physically or have some prior need. It's why she texts and talks over the phone in the bluntest possible way because she doesn't know how to carry on a conversation over the phone. It's easier for her to do so in real life, in her uncle's bar or some other meeting point like that, but harder on call because she's just "Hello, yeah, you're well? What happened? Okay. Fine. Bye." and it's such a culture (?) shock when she realizes people do talk more than what happened during the day.
It works out anyway because Nora ends up getting used to longer conversations with Trystan over the phone because they all start out somewhere, but two hours later, they have gone through every topic and her phone battery had already plummeted to 4%.
#2 for Killian:
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Have you seen Killian? She loves to do nothing. She loves chilling. Literally her thing lmao. Killian hates initiating things and she's more content in a tavern somewhere, half-asleep and half-drunk with her brother Kade wrestling some guy in a music battle. Part of the reason why she gravitated towards more 'chiller' hobbies such as alchemy and crafts because it doesn't require an insane amount of work out in the open and she could gather up resources handy and make something convenient for herself.
It's why she never wanted to be involved in the whole Ash Empress and Valax businesses in the first place. Just let her be, man, cmon, not that difficult. She's so ready to retire. She's got her brother, a couple of good friends, it's enough. Moving around goes against all her core principles.
#5 for... Nora, again, lol. I'm sorry, I just want an excuse to talk about her some more, if that's all right!
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THIS IS THE BEST QUESTION EVER AAAAAH Okay okay I'll add some pictures too.
Nora has, suffice to say a lot of jackets and coats, but most of them are hand-me-downs. She doesn't really spend on clothes - not because she's hip and cool and sustainable like that (okay she is sustainable), but she's very very frugal as a person. Insanely frugal. She doesn't know how 'treating yourself" works, hasn't done that and doesn't have any materialistic aspirations because she's looking for the best deal possible. Not because she's Asian. Okay maybe it is because of that, but you get my drift. Nora does spend on clothes - not like she never does, she does, but it's a rarity and she only gets them if she knows a) the coat is priced aptly to her requirements b) she loves the coat and c) she wears it everyday and uses it and won't just wear it for a one-time affair and it is long-lasting.
Her dad's old corduroy jacket. Something like this:
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Imagine a J stitched on the pocket area.
It was Jimmy's old jacket that was a wedding present to him by Alison (Nora's mom) and even after Jimmy outgrew the jacket, he still kept it for good luck. It helped him a lot on police cases (and a lucky charm for Nora during her soccer games) and of course young Nora had her eye on it and the broad shoulders to support it so of course, she took it - probably the only thing Nora took from Jimmy's stash of things after he passed on because some things are just too unbearable to use after intense grief.
And the luck did stay. Nora wears it almost on the daily. There's big pockets to keep her stuff, the material is perfect for New York's weather, it isn't flimsy - Nora provides extra special care to the jacket alone, throwing everything else in the washing machine. Even though her shoulders fit, they're a bit big on her especially on the sleeves but she doesn't mind them. A hallmark of the coat is that it comes with candy wrappers and pens in their pockets, which is why in the handful of times Trystan takes her jacket out for a spin (it fits him so perfectly), he's dismayed to fish into the pockets and get ink stains all over his hands.
2. A maroon blazer
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This was Nora's first ever purchase with her first month's salary from the Agency and yes of course she wears it often. It means a lot to her too because it made her feel like a 'professional' and got Mafalda to approve too, especially after feeling like shit during her NYPD years.
She bought it because she really liked the colour and pairs it up with virtually every single shirt she owns and it works.
3. A leather jacket, something like this (but more accurate on the left than the right)
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This was a purchase from when she graduated from uniforms to jackets in the NYPD (aka became a homicide detective for a brief period of a year or two ish). She got it from a clearance section and is super proud of her selection because it made her look so cool back in the day - with her cropped haircut, leather jacket, trousers and shoes. It's the piece of youth she hangs on to even though she isn't even that old.
4. Her uncle's old denim trucker jacket
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This was Uncle Tommy's really really old jacket that was in good condition that he intended on giving away, except Nora was like "mine" and she ended up giving it to a tailor to have it mended more to her liking. It just has a cool set of buttons and lots of utility options and that's just enough, you know? That's just it to her.
She seldom wears it though, but when she does, she pairs it up with a baseball cap or something and it all comes together in a nice harmony.
And finally, to conclude Nora's top five jackets run through is..
#5: This track-suit/ sportswear jacket and windbreaker:
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Nora used to do sports. Now she doesn't anymore, but she still wears them tracks lol. It's really helpful during rainy or windy weathers and a very useful purchase. She wears it pretty often considering it rains a lot sometimes. She has a lot of athleisure wear, but this is her favourite because she loves the colour and it's such a refreshing change from the monotones she wears a lot.
___
Thank you so much for the ask Caro <33
character generator asks
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procyo9 · 1 year
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ask game! questions about elegy
4, 7, 27, 35, B, E
fhghjfdhjfd oh shit this is gonna be a though one
4. How easy is it to earn their trust? It's actually not that hard, tbh. But it's really easy to lose her trust, and impossible to gain it back. If a person acts ok towards her and doesn't do anything to fuck her over then there's no need to keep being hostile towards them, Elegy actually likes the idea of having people she can trust and come to if she needs any help with gigs or other shit (she will check their emails tho, just to be sure)
7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling? Her mom used to collect vinyls, which she has in her own apartment now (she's a sentimental girl and gets attached to things pretty easily) Those were picked up from her old apartment where her parents were killed, and all the things that belonged to her parents were given to her - when she feels down she likes to play one of the vinyls, put on her dad's shirt and paint shit that doesn't make sense; it's really cleansing for her and helps keep her head chill So yeah, she likes the feeling :)
27. What causes them to feel dread? Hm, never thought of that one. Probably when someone she knows dies and suddenly they're gone. Like she doesn't think about it when she's on gigs and kills in self defense, or when there's a target that's a shitty human being and deserves to die, but when a rookie gets shot right next to her, or even worse - one of her friends? Mortality kicks in
35. How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive? HELL YEAH when it comes to people that are close to her she's gonna definitely fangirl over anything her friend is hyped about; even if she knows jack shit about it. Tell her, she's gonna listen and ask you about it and help you steal it (if applicable) !!
B. What inspired you to create them? Tbh I just winged the whole creation thing lol. I love character creators that give you a lot of characterization options; with Elegy I actually had a very different idea from what actually came out (she was meant to have pink hair tied into buns, weird cyber eyes and dress super cute, and I imagined her to be this random Mox girl that's psychotic as fuck but everyone loves her) Instead I gave her sad raccoon eyes and short brows (idk why but I love the look of short brows on many characters. so cute) and then the rest just happened? And I swear any other haircut doesn't fit her face well lol. Fortunately I love half-shaved heads and blue dye :3 ... You know, now I wanna try to actually make that first thought a reality lmao. Maybe if I ever get a chance to play around with mods, or simply on a separate save
E. Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you? Ohhh I'd love to be her friend but she's so cool, she'd probably never look at me or acknowledge my existence :( But for real now, I think we could get along pretty well, but she's way wilder than me and has much more outgoing and brave personality despite also preferring her time alone/with close ones. But we could watch FLCL together owo
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mariawesker2 · 3 months
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Fiona Frost being Maria Burnside hashira/college AU Brotherhood headcanons & what they first thought of Maria and what they think of her now
At first, pietro and Maria hated each other because Pietro was still mad at Todd for the entire prank incident and him escaping from them. However, that changed when pietro was invited to a sleepover with Todd at Longford Mansion. However, he was told that Maria would also be there. Maria and Pietro have hated each other since the first time they met. But that day he started to care for her well-being they are now best friends
However, wanda is chill towards Maria after learning that she could control Todd and stop him from flirting with her. but at first she disliked Maria a bit because Maria did heal Todd and help escape from getting his ass beat for the pranks he pulled but after a very short while she throw pietro onto the ground only using one hand
.Fred was in different towards Maria because he didn't like that she healed Todd from the injuries him and the others had given him, but also found it cool that Maria allowed them in Her dad's study but him and Lance found it weird that they never get to see or hear Maria's parents but he learned from Todd & wanda that they work a lot so Maria is usually home alone after school that's why she hangs out with them because otherwise she would be so lonely he believes them
Lance at first , dislikes her because she is the person who had healed Todd but after going into her garage he learns that Sea has a motorcycle now he finds maria a pretty chill & cool because she has a bunch of books on car and car repairs and she has a motorcycle but he finds it wierd that he never sees her parents but he learned from Todd & wanda that they work a lot show Maria is usually home alone after school that's why she hangs out with them because otherwise she would be so lonely he believes them so he never questions it again and doesn't bring it up but that got him wandering what do her parents do for a living like they live in a luxurious house they are never home Maria doesn't have a babysitter or Nanny devils a lot of Japanese art hanging up on the walls but he didn't know Maria's background so he thought that her dad is Japanese he was correct because she had two dads and one mom because she's stole blood from 3 People and put it into her own forearm directly into her veins
Tabitha: At first, after hearing that maria had healed todd from the injuries he gotten from being beaten up for the pranks that he pulled she didn't like her it wasn't until they met face to face the tabitha sees a chill chick who just wants to make friends but just like Fred and Lance she didn't understand why they never get to see or meet Maria's parents but todd & wanda told her dad Maria's parents work a lot and that's why Maria is home alone all the time because her parents are busy at work but what kind of work they do we don't know that so sacrify the sites to not bring it up to Maria but something starts sound weird the fact that they are free untouched and almost empty bedrooms that he claims are her parents at first tab of thought that maria was lying or that she was an orphan however lance told her that Maria's grandmother comes to stay every Wednesday which includes denim sleeping and breakfast
The first time they were at the
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juvederm · 2 months
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yapping abt family hcs for ud
starting w the washingtons bc whatever . i think josh's dad is widely interpreted to be kind of a shitty dad, and honestly i do write that a lot, like i don't go against it ever. but i like the idea of the dad being cool, crafty and humorous. i should write that more Tbh . however i expanded more on the first interpretation i mentioned. i give josh's dad a lot of issues, like he's got his own problems going on (won't go into it bc im afraid of ppl looking at me sideways, not that the hcs are weird but idk) for the mom, she's kinda always been the same for me; she values academics, ethics, and wants the best for her kids. as soon as josh and the twins were able to work she was like, apply for jobs. as soon as they were able to get their permits she was like. ur getting that damn permit. she wasn't That strict but like her kids didn't have to be told twice. like they just listened bc her tone was firm enough (i hc for the mom that shes been like working all her life, she's a very determined woman)
now onto jess- i give her a step dad, her bio dad kinda dipped before jess could really remember him. jess is veryyyt much like her mom. her mom is like an energetic person, i imagine she's like short asf, had a party phase in college, and wants jess to seek out experiences that feel good to her. and she's very supportive. her step dad is a chill, mellow kind of guy too, he's not as energetic and outspoken but he's supportive too. jess also mentions in game how her parents do throw money away to replace her phones, i think her parents are like Girl how the fuck do you keep losing / breaking your phones. so they give her warnings, hence why jess dramatizes it and is like "my parents Will Kill me :[" also jess's mom is that mom that everyone loves. like even emily is like "i love that bitch". i think jess has a little sister, like a baby sister, who constantly makes messes that jess has to clean up after.
speaking of emily, both of her parents are business people. classy, no nonsense (except her dad can be kinda jokey). her mom is much like josh's where she wants emily to excel in academics, get shit done and be successful. so emily works toward that, 4.0 bitch. her parents do trust her a lot too, they're usually away on business trips, so they allow her to invite friends over, but they can also be very punishing like if they come back and the house is fucked up, emily has to clean it and she doesn't get off scott free even if she does that. but generally they're pretty lenient with her and they don't hassle her. i think emily has a younger teenage brother, who's ur average annoying gamer. he's not left off the hook tho, he still has to keep his shit together, sometimes emily helps him study
ashley has both of her parents in the picture. her dad looks like he jumped out of a 70s sitcom. like plaid shirts, giant glasses, he tries to be stern and strict abt things like curfew but sucks at enforcing it. so like cady heron's dad lfkdnsbs. id say ashleys mom js like cadys too, but ashleys mom has more whimsy to her. her mom collects and is a painter, likes sewing from time to time (she sewed ashleys first day of hs clothes) ashley has a baby brother to me, but hes not as messy as jess's little sister. ashley's parents are also aware of ashley's crush on chris, and even they're like ... Do you Liiiike him? and they tease her abt it often.
sam's parents are surprisingly stern. i like the idea of them being kinda chill and shit but idk. i often write her parents being strict with her academics and stuff, but it's mainly only wanting her to pass her classes. they're both sports people also, so they stress that sam works out and does a sport. sam to me seems like she did a lot of sports and didn't stick to one, but she's good at a lot of them too. she's good at tennis (but always lost to hannah 😭), she played for the girls soccer team, she did baseball but didn't like it as much, she tried cheer and also didn't like it (jess wanted her to join). her parents don't lack any fun tho, they often go out and take sam along. i view sam as an only child too, so it's just her and her parents at some fancy restaurant. maybe it's awkward, maybe it's not. her parents also focus on healthy foods and shit. her dad studied anatomy and physiology in college and always drops some random ass health facts
matt's parents are probably the most supportive people ever. his dad is the definition of "he's a little confused but he's got the spirit" bc his dad is so uninformed about sports. like he'll cheer for the wrong team at the game with Confidence... his dad is also crazy abt video games, he used to work at as a game journalist at one point. he has like old video game discs in this thick ass binder that holds all of them (my dad literally does this). the mom is just as nerdy as him tbh, they're like Thee couple. she's often the one arranging outings and stuff like that, and if she asks her husband to do it... that shit never happening. he usually forgets lol, but it ain't all cookies and cream like... they do want matt to succeed and get his scholarship. they ask about his grades a lot. matt also has three younger brothers, chaotic little trio they are. they're like LARPers in the backyard, always playing a new game with each other.
mike also has parents that are very business savvy. his dad is a mayor, previously worked in real estate. he's worked at a lot of construction sites for the town that they live in. he's a big name, maybe not as big as bob washington, but definitely well known . his mom is a nurse, but mainly works from home or if she's at work, she's usually in her office. mike to me has an older brother . like one that he's not really close to but when the guy visits, they have an ok time. his older brother like moved out forever ago and is 4 years older than him. mike at first seems like an only child but no. his parents are much like the others where they did stress academic success, so when mike was class president they were like so proud of him. but they can be kind of neglectful as well... often leaving for days at a time, or not being home until dark. but mike doesn't mind bc he just invites people over or throws a party when he can. his parents are also aware of how much he hops between girlfriends but they never keep up or seem interested in actually knowing the girl. besides emily. she made them get to know her bc she wasn't about to visit and have them not respect her lool
and chris . he's one that i've talked at length about so this might be nothing new. i gave chris a packed backstory so just keep that in mind. heads up for like abuse and stuff like that. his dad is an asshole full stop. and yeah the guy has his issues too. i hc his dad as this hard ass, former military sargeant. he's not in it anymore, but his experiences in it impacted him immensely. however, he's always been strict and no nonsense. he always asks chris if he's thinking about getting a girlfriend, he wants chris to be a man in charge . chris kinda doesn't want to be like his father. chris is a mommas boy to me, and speaking of his mom, she was so unlike her husband it's crazy. she was a very chill woman, very interested in gardens and anything botanical. she wanted chris to just do what he liked, but his dad would oppose that. i think chris ended up losing his mom at a young age, and could be an explanation for why he tends to shut down in emotional situations. his dad didn't cope well with losing his wife, along with being very verbally degrading, it would sometimes get physical when they'd argue. needless to say i don't give chris a good home life . his step mom is okay, she's not as mean as his dad, but it's not enough for chris to want to stay at home . chris is also the most only child i've ever seen in a video game
anyways there you have it. these are the headcanons i operate under when writing :]
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~Metal Family headcanons~
These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf
Glam
Bisexual
Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.
He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.
Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.
Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.
He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.
This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.
This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.
Vicky
Also bisexual!
Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)
She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?
She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.
She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.
Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.
Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.
Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.
Rest of the family under the cut!
Heavy
Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.
Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.
I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.
Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.
He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!
Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.
Dee
I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.
Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.
Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.
The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.
Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.
He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.
Ches
Pansexual.
He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?
Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?
Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.
More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.
Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.
Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.
Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.
That would be all!
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catacomb231 · 2 years
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Parental Figure|Aizawa x Child! Reader PART 2
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A/N:Yep I made it into a series. I'm not sorry.
Sum:You are gonna spend Christmas break at your dad's house which both you and Aizawa aren't fond of. And he can't help but worry about you the whole time you're there.
Part One
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"So~ what is everyone doing for the holidays??" Mina asks the group excitedly.
Christmas Break was coming up which everyone was pretty excited about! The class recently had a very stressful written and quirk related test today so this break would be perfect to unwind for!
Everyone was excited! Except for you that is. You still can't forget what the social worker told you a week ago.
"But why do I have to go to my dad's house?? I'm doing fine where I am!" You try to reason with the lady who sat at the desk with a pretty fake looking "sympathetic" look.
"Well, your mother has once again been struggling with he mental health and everything, and recent reports have stated that your father has been doing much better! So we think it would be good for you if you spent some time at his house. Just for the break." The lady explained.
"Can't I stay somewhere else? Like a friend's house?" You try to suggest but the lady shakes her head.
"I'm sorry but what's done is done. You'll be spending Christmas Break with your father."
To be honest you weren't expecting your father to have changed! You were sure it was just a facade to the social workers.
"My family and I always go visit our cousins and stay there til the day after Christmas. My little cousins are so cute, ribbit!" Asui comments.
"My family usually goes to check out the beautiful Christmas lights at Tokyo Plaza!" Uraraka adds.
"My father calls everyone we practically know and have a BIG Christmas party." Momo explains.
Everyone was now blowing up about what they'd be doing, all of these fun things! While you sat quietly. You wanted to stay here and spend the break with Aizawa! Eating the delicious Christmas Eve dinner while Sushi purred on your lap.
"What about you Y/N?" Mina asks looking over at you, getting your attention. You see, no one in the class knows about your home life. They know your parents are divorced but didn't think it was anything serious.
"Oh, uh.. just spending it at my dad's house." You reply, trying to sound happy. "Cool!" Mina says before going back to talking with the others, having you sigh of relief.
You just wanted to stay here though.
-
"You're going to your dad's house for the break?" Aizawa repeats to make sure he heard that correctly. You were on the front porch of the dorms talking to him about it. You just explained everything the lady told you.
"Yeah.."
"Are you sure that's okay?" He asks concerned.
"Well the social worker lady said so! I can't do anything about it now.." you explain.
Aizawa sighs and pats you on the head.
"Just stay safe kid."
-
The sound of the car horn is heard from inside your apartment. You were gathering your last minute things and your small backpack with the essentials like your phone charger, toothbrush and toothpaste, etc.
"Alright go on Y/N." Your mother mutters unenthusiastically as she opened the apartment door for you. "Bye mom." You reply quickly before going down the steps, making sure not to slip while mother closes the door.
You walk over to the beat up pick up truck before climbing into the passenger seat, slamming the very squeaky door shut. You look over to see your father looked a little different.
You realized he started shaving more, he started dressing up in more than just a dirty white tank top and beige shorts. He also didn't reek of alcohol and cigarettes anymore! I mean, the faint smell still seems to linger but it was very faint.
You quickly avoid his gaze as he looks over at you from the side and you look out the window. "Alright let's get this over with.." He mutters as he starts the car back up and starts driving away back on to the main road. Finally the damp, weird stained car started to heat up against the winter chill as he starts driving to the place of his house.
Apparently it's in some small neighborhood in Osaka, almost a 2 hour drive to there from Mustafu.
So you and your father drive in silence while Christmas music played quietly from he radio.
"Honestly I don't get how you have lasted this long living with your mother. From what I could see she's in the exact same state she was when we left each other." Your father suddenly comments keeping his eyes on the roads so he doesn't go slipping from the ice.
You look over at him. "I just fend for myself.." You mutter back a reply and look back out your window as the sun had already set behind the mountains, swallowing Japan up in winter dusk as street lamps and bright neon store signs light up, despite it only being 5:30 PM.
"Honestly though. Can't even a useless woman like that take care of her own child?? At least I'm been trying to turn around!" Your father says, starting to go on a rant about your mother.
All you could do was sit and listen. You were too scared to say anything. It's always like this. I want to be with Mr. Aizawa right now! With his delicious home cooked food.
-
"Here we are." Your father says pulling up into his driveway that led to a small but decent enough house. Loud barking gets your attention and you look over at the front lawn to see a German Shepherd chained up next to a dog house with a food and water bowl.
"Did you get a dog?" You ask sitting up straighter. Your father never seemed to be the kind to get a pet. "Yeah that's Sparky. But he's chained up right now so he won't bite." Your father replies as he gets out of the car.
A small smile tugged to your face as you thought of the name. Sparky! Like what Bakugou calls Denki! You think to yourself as you grabbed your bag and climbed out of the car as well, shutting the door behind you.
Sparky started barking louder now but you just quickly follow your father inside. You walk in and see only a Christmas tree up, half decorated in the living room. "Your bedroom is the guest bedroom up stairs and to the right." Your father tells you as he walked into the kitchen, turning on the light.
You head up, turning on the hall light and into the guest bedroom, turning that light on too. At the very least everything was clean and the best felt pretty comfortable. It was just empty with plain white walls but you didn't mind.
It could be worse. You thought to yourself as you placed your bag at the foot of your bed.
"Y/N! DINNER!" You hear your father yell from downstairs. You flinched. You still didn't like hearing his yelling, but at least it was just to tell you something. You headed downstairs and into the kitchen where the table was.
"I don't really cook much so I just got some microwave dinners." He tells you as he placed down heated up steak and rice balls on to the plate before sitting down at the table. You sit down too and start eating in silence.
It's always so much more happy and exciting at Mr. Aizawa's house! We actually talk and he's nice.
-
After dinner, your father just watched TV while you sat next to him on your phone. Suddenly though your father gets mad at the people on TV and he starts yelling angrily at it.
That's triggers you and you quickly head upstairs into your room, closing the door and climb on to your bed, curling up.
You began to hyperventilate and cry silently, feeling like you can't breathe at all. You begin to panic, making your panic attack worse.
But luckily, your mind cleared enough for you to remember something that happened before you left school today.
You were the last one packing up your stuff in the classroom to head home when Aizawa walks up to you. "Hey kid."
You look over as he handed you a slip of paper.
"In case you need something or someone to talk to, here's my number.
You manage to grab your phone and very shakily press Aizawa's name, having it ring. You press it to your ear when eventually Aizawa picks up.
Aizawa:Hey kid, need something?
You:M... M-mr.. a-aizawa..
Aizawa:Y/N what's wrong?? Do you need me to come get you?
You:N-no... P.. panic attack.." Is all you can mutter.
Aizawa:Okay, don't worry kid. Put me on speaker phone. I'll help you.
You nod and do so.
Aizawa starts helping you calm down over the phone. It takes a while but eventually you calm down.
You:T-thank you.. sorry for wasting your time..
Aizawa: Don't worry. I don't mind. Can you tell me what happened though? Did your father hurt you?
You:No. He just got mad at the TV and started yelling at it. Just triggered me is all..
Aizawa:Alright then.. just be safe kid.
You:I will I promise.
You then say goodbye and hang up. You sigh and just snuggle up closer in your bed, closing your eyes.
Let me go home...
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baepsaesbae · 3 years
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Babysitters Club
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Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader    
Genre— SMUT, fluff, babysitting au, strangers to lovers au
Warnings— Dom!Taehyung, roleplaying, face fucking, oral sex (m and f), bondage, explicit rough unprotected sex please stay safe irl, squirting, choking, hickies, a surprise cameo from Spring Will Come Again!Jungkook because I have no self control
Word Count— ~7.6k  
Summary— A generic summer job hunt leads you to babysit rowdy (but still cute) kids alongside the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. What shenanigans will you get into with Taehyung by your side?
A/N— HUGE shoutout to the lovely @kimtaehyunq​​ for making this beautiful banner for me! This was literally the Taehyung I had in mind while writing this uwu. This fic is the epitome of self indulgence but I truly hope you guys like it too! Please let me know what you think! My askbox/inbox is always open, don’t be afraid to come chat with me. Love you all, hope you guys are safe <3
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Crumpled up newspapers littered the floor as another ball was apathetically tossed aside. A sigh of defeat escaped your lips as you looked up at the ceiling in desperation.
“Still at it with the job hunt, huh?” your roommate, Hyuna, said when she saw your mess, “I told you to search online. Or try to get a job at a cafe or a boba shop or something.”
“Easy jobs online seem sketchy, and I told you I don’t want to work in the food industry ever again,” you groaned.
“But you’d rather...be a babysitter?” she questioned as she held up an ad, “Wait you could get paid up to $15 an hour? That’s pretty good.”
“I didn’t see that one. Is it an agency or something?”
“Not sure, take a look,” she handed you the paper.
“Oh, it seems like it’s a daycare run out of someone’s house. They’re looking for multiple applicants. You wanna do it with me?! I think it could be fun!” you ask excitedly.
“And spend most of my summer vacation with a bunch of snot nosed brats? I don’t think so. You have fun though!” she blew you a kiss as she walked away.
You whipped your phone out and immediately called the number in the ad. This job was the only one that seemed bearable, and you thought kids were cute for the most part. You’ve had a few babysitting gigs in the past so this shouldn’t be too bad.
“Hello?” a deep voice answered the call.
“Hi, I saw your ad in the paper! I was wondering if there was still a babysitting position open?” you inquired.
“Oh yes! Yeah there’s still a spot open. Um, can you give me a sec?” the man said quickly as you heard wailing kids in the background. After two minutes or so he returned to the phone.
“I’m terribly sorry about that. You don’t have a criminal background or anything right? Gosh, I’m sure this sounds unprofessional but--”
“Nope, I don’t have any charges or anything like that. Should I call back later?” you offered since it seemed like the man was a little preoccupied.
“It’s like this all the time. Why don’t we do a practice run tomorrow? Oh! I mean, whenever you’re available to start. Or technically have an interview? I guess? Hey, don’t put that in your mouth!” the man chastised at someone in the distance.
“I can come in tomorrow!” you said.
“Great! Just use the address in the same ad you got this number from! Oh, and please get here by 9am! See you soon!” the man hung up abruptly.
“That was chaotic…” you said to yourself.
A moment later your phone began to ring. It was from the babysitting guy.
“Hello?” you answered.
“I realized I never got your name! I promise I’m not always this frazzled,” he laughed as rambunctious laughter erupted behind him.
“Oh, I’m ______,” you gave him your first and last name.
“Cool. See you tomorrow Miss ____!” he said before hanging up again.
You were actually excited to babysit. It had been a while since you had done it, and playing with kids was usually fun. Then again, you’ve never had a bad experience with babysitting before. You prayed that this gig would continue the positive trend.
Donning shorts and a simple Mickey Mouse t-shirt, (you figured some kid was bound to like the mousey character) it was time to head off to your potential workplace. The babysitting place was actually fairly close to you, only about a 10 minute drive. It was 8:55am by the time you arrived. A couple of parents walked past your car to drop off their kids. All of the kids seemed to be pretty excited to enter the house, which was definitely a good sign.
You gently knocked on the door at exactly 9am. There was no response as you awkwardly waited for about a minute or so. All you could hear was shrill laughter and thumps that you presumed was the kids running about. You realized there was a doorbell, and sighed at your foolishness.
The door opened seconds after you rang the doorbell. A tall man with dark hair greeted you with a warm smile. You were taken aback by the handsome guy, suddenly questioning whether you were at the right place or not until a child popped up from behind his shoulder and yelled out a loud “Boo!” that caused you to jump.
“Ah, sorry about that! This one is always trying to play pranks,” the man laughed as he playfully jostled the child that was latched onto his back, “You must be ______?”
“That’s me!” you say with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Cool. C’mon in, I’ll introduce you to the kids,” the man led you inside.
The living room was littered with toys, from cars to building blocks to barbies. This place was definitely a kid’s happy place. Four little kids were playing with various things when you walked in. All of the kids there seemed to be between the ages of 4 to 6. At a glance, it seemed like they were all playing house. It took you a few seconds to realize that one of the kids was actually playing by herself; she was just physically close to the other kids.
“Everyone! This is our newest helper! Her name is Miss ____. Let’s all play nicely with her okay?” the man announced.
The kids playing house immediately stopped what they were doing and rushed to you. Two boys began asking you questions in a rapid fire succession, while the little girl merely clung to your leg.
“Those two are Kota and Bel,” the man pointed to the two boys, “The little girl stuck to you like glue is Ava, and the one playing over there is Lucy,” he continued to name each child.
“AND I’M SAM!!” the last boy exclaimed over the man’s shoulder.
“Yes, this troublemaker here is Sam. That’s basically the whole gang! We could get a few more additions as the summer goes on, but these guys are the OG crew. They’re all really sweet kids, once you get to know them. Any questions so far?” your employer asked.
“I don’t think I ever caught your name, sir,” you say politely.
“Oh! No need to call me sir. I think we’re probably around the same age? Not that I’m assuming your age or anything but--”
“He’s my horsey!” Sam interrupted.
“No, he’s the chef!” Kota yelled.
“No, he’s our dad who’s not our dad,” Lucy chimed in.
“My mom told me he was a babysitter?” Bel added, now visibly confused.
“I am all of those things,” the man reassured the children, “But my name is Taehyung. The kids call me Tae or Mr. insert whatever title I have in the game we are playing on that day. Pleasure to meet ya,” Tae extends a hand out to you, “Let’s see how your first day goes.”
The first few hours consisted of a rather intricate game of pretend set up in a fantasy world. You played a princess who was captured by an evil dragon, who was played by Taehyung (you couldn’t help but think about how you wouldn’t mind being his hostage).
The boys were valiant knights on their quest to rescue you. The girls played different creatures that aided the knights as fairies or unicorns or any other things they wanted to be. Most of the game consisted of you and Taehyung sitting together in a corner of the living room. Even though you didn’t have to do anything, it was fun watching the kids play. Their imagination amused you.
“Enjoying yourself, princess?” Taehyung asked as he also watched the children run around.
His deep voice sent chills down your spine. Something about the way the word “princess” rolled off his tongue was so enchanting. You cleared your throat before answering.
“This job has been pretty fun so far, Mr. Evil Dragon,” you smile.
“Hey! I’m not evil, just misunderstood,” he protested.
“Oh no! The dragon is about to eat the princess!” one of the boys cried out.
“What? No, I’m not going to eat her,” Taehyung said defensively.
“You need to pretend to eat the princess so that the knights save her,” Lucy, the quiet one, scuttled over to whisper to the both of you before hurrying back to her spot.
Taehyung turned towards you to appease the kids as they held their breath in anticipation.
“Rawr! I’m going to eat you!” he said in a deep voice.
“Oh no! Somebody save me!” you cried out, playing along.
A few moments passed but none of the kids moved. You both turned your heads towards them in confusion. They stared back at you blankly.
“You need to bite her!” Sam demanded.
“What?” you and Tae said in unison.
“Bite her! Bite her! Bite her!” the boys started to chant.
“But not too hard!” Ava expressed her worry for you, making you smile.
“I…uh…” Taehyung was at a loss for words.
“They’re not gonna stop, are they?” you whispered to him.
He nodded with a sigh as their chanting got louder. You offered him your arm. Kids can be crazy stubborn over silly things. Besides, you’ve done worse for less (college is crazy).
Taehyung shot you an “are you sure about this?” look, to which you just nodded. Once he got the okay, Taehyung grabbed your arm and pulled you harshly, causing your face to be a mere inches away from his.
“Fools! You think you can save the princess? I will devour her before your very eyes!” Taehyung declared with an even deeper voice. He opened his mouth menacingly, as if to show off his fangs. Then, he proceeded to bite your bicep. To be honest, he was being so forceful that you thought he was going to bite you for real, causing you to involuntarily close your eyes.
Instead, he gingerly placed his teeth on your skin so lightly that you could barely feel anything. You opened your eyes to see Taehyung grinning at you with your arm in his mouth.
“Aaaaggghhh GET HIM!!” Sam yelled, leading the other boys straight into Taehyung.
Taehyung quickly let go of you before he rolled out onto the floor. The boys began to pummel Taehyung with their foam swords and pretend bows and arrows. The girls came to your aid to help you escape during the battle.
The little boys triumphantly stood over their defeated babysitter who pretended to be passed out on the floor. You applauded their victory as the girls sat by your side.
“Okay! Good game, it’s almost lunchtime,” Taehyung announced as he quickly popped back up.
“Chef Tae makes the best mac and cheese!” Ava informed you excitedly.
“I wanted dino nuggies!” Sam puffed out his cheeks in disappointment.
“Sam, you know it’s Ava’s day to pick out lunch. It’ll be your turn tomorrow okay? I promise! You guys can stay here and play with Miss ____ till food is ready,” Tae called out as he walked to the kitchen. Lucy silently followed Tae.
“Lucy likes to help out in the kitchen a lot. She sets the table,” Ava explained when she saw you watching Lucy.
“You’re good at being a princess!” Kota butted in as he ran to hug your leg.
“I like your shirt! I like Mickey Mouse too. I saw him in DisneyWorld last year,” Bel said as he clung to your other leg.
The kids took turns holding onto your legs as you tried to walk around. Apparently the thought of making you tumble over was an exciting one, and that kept the kids busy until Taehyung called for everyone.
Five little bowls of mac and cheese were set up on the dining table. The kids took their seats as Taehyung handed out juice boxes. He positioned himself by your side as the little ones began to chow down.
“I normally just eat the rest out of the pot, but since you’re here I can get you a bowl. Sorry about biting you earlier, the kids really like it when I get serious about my roles,” Taehyung chuckled as he scooped out your portion.
“It’s no problem, you’re a great actor. Thank you,” you say politely as he handed you a bowl.
Lunch was spent making small talk with Taehyung. He was a newly graduated college student trying to make extra money before starting a real job hunt.Taehyung had been running this makeshift daycare since he was a senior in highschool.
“Summers are always fun with them,” Taehyung said while smiling fondly at the kids, “How has it been so far?” he asked.
“I’ve been having a good time. The kids are all really sweet! They have so much energy,” you answer.
“They do indeed, which is why playtime is so important in the morning! It makes what comes next easier,” he winked at you before collecting the empty bowls, “Okay kiddos! Who’s ready for nap time?”
Lucy quietly raised her hand while the boys groaned. You figured it would be hard to get those active boys to settle down, let alone to take a nap. You helped Taehyung set up blankets and pillows in the game room. The kids made a beeline to their designated blankets without a fuss.
“Do you sing, Miss _____?” Taehyung asked out of the blue.
“Um, not really?” you say hesitantly.
“Ah, I see. No worries. Everybody ready?” he said.
“Yes!” all the kids replied.
“Alrighty. Do you have any song requests, Miss ____?”
You thought about which songs would make for a decent lullaby, “Do you know Adore You by Harry Styles?”
“I’ll have to look up the lyrics but yeah I like that song! I like his whole album actually,” Taehyung nodded as he pulled out his phone and took a deep breath, “Walk in your rainbow paradise~”
You were shocked by his vocal talent. His voice control was superb and the quality of his voice was downright euphoric. Even though Taehyung’s voice is deeper than Harry Styles’, his range was incredible. He was still able to go as high as Harry without any trouble. All the kids had fallen sound asleep by the time he finished the song.
“This is when I typically have about an hour of free time,” he said after quietly leading you back into the kitchen.
“You have such a beautiful voice! Do you sing to them every day?” you praised him.
“Thanks! Yeah, I sing to them every day. They used to get duets actually,” Taehyung sighed.
“Did you have another coworker before?” you asked.
“Yep. My best friend actually. He’s my roommate too, but he landed an internship this summer so he couldn’t be here. I’m very proud of him! But usually this is a job for two people so I decided to put that ad out. I’m happy you came out! The kids seem to like you,” Taehyung gave you a thumbs up.
“I hope so! Lucy might be scared of me though,” you recalled the way she mostly avoided you all morning.
“Nah, she’s just really shy. She told me that she thought you were really pretty though, so that’s a good sign!” he tried to reassure you.
“I guess it must be true then. Kids are brutally honest,” you smiled.
“She definitely wasn’t lying,” Taehyung smiled back at you.
You had to look away awkwardly to hide your blushed cheeks. There’s no way you could handle a direct smile from this guy. How was it possible for someone to be that handsome without even trying?!
“So what happens after naptime?” you quickly asked to change the subject.
“Basically more playing until their parents come. It honestly just depends on what the kids wanna do. We can play inside, in the backyard, and sometimes we go to the park,” Taehyung answered with an amused smile, “Let’s use this free time to conduct a more formal interview, shall we?”
Taehyung then asked you a series of questions about your summer schedule, if you’re willing to work every day of the week, how you feel about the kids, along with other things. You answered truthfully and kept up a professional demeanor. Taehyung seemed to be satisfied with your answers and leaned back in his chair.
“That all works for me! The people who really need to approve of you are the parents. I’ll introduce you to them later this afternoon. I’m sure they’ll all be fine once I vouch for you,” he nodded.
Soft giggles caught your attention. Taehyung signaled that break time was now over and led the way back to the living room. Kota and Bel were wrestling each other while the others threw pillows at them.  
“Did everyone have a good nap?” Taehyung sing songed.
“Yes!” they replied.
“Can we play house now?” Ava asked.
“Yeah! Miss ____ can be the mommy now!” Sam bounced up in excitement, “Our last mommy used to be a boy.”
“Jimin was a great mommy and I’m sure he misses you all dearly. Jimin is my roommate/best friend/ex-cobabysitter,” Taehyung explained.
The game of house was more hands on from your end. The kids demanded you to carry them and read them stories like a real mommy would. It was mainly the girls who wanted to play with you, while the boys took turns wrestling with Tae or riding on his back. You were braiding Lucy’s hair when the doorbell rang.
“Kota! Your mom is here!” Taehyung called from the front.
All the kids trickled out one by one as their parents arrived. Taehyung introduced you to each parent; their reactions were all positive, especially when their kids raved about you being the new Jimin.
“If she’s anything like Jimin, then I have nothing to worry about. I trust your judgement, Taehyung,” one of the sterner looking parents said (Sam’s father to be exact).
“Congrats! You got the job,” Taehyung congratulated you once all of the children were picked up, “We get paid on Fridays. I’ll basically just split what we earn 50/50, cool?”
“That’s fine by me! I’m looking forward to working with you,” you bow graciously.
“Ah! No need to be so formal. We’re partners now! I’m not your boss or anything,” Taehyung gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder, “See you tomorrow!”
Summer was about to get rather eventful. All of the children warmed up to you surprisngly quickly, even timid Lucy (who had arguably grown the most fond of you). As the days went on, you couldn’t help but admire Taehyung’s kindness and patience when it came to the kids. From firm to understanding, he was everything a caregiver should be. He handled spats between kids with ease, often by making them forgive each other then laugh at some silly joke of his.
One afternoon, the kids voted to watch a Disney movie. All seven of you curled up on the couch together with you and Taehyung in the middle. Lucy sat in your lap while Bel sat in Taehyung’s. Halfway through the movie, Taehyung fell asleep. The kids didn’t notice since they were so engrossed in the movie. You however, DID notice. Mostly because he rolled his sleepy head onto your shoulder.
Your heartbeat quickened as you slowly turned to take a peek at the handsome man sleeping beside you. He looked angelic, and you realized that he smelled pleasant too. He had a sweet scent that was uncharacteristic for a young man. You took a deep breath and pretended not to notice him. He didn’t wake up until the doorbell rang near the end of the movie.
He seemed to be confused and perhaps even slightly flustered when he lifted his head from your shoulder, but quickly shrugged it off to go answer the door. The incident (and the drool on your shoulder) was never mentioned.
It had been a month since you started babysitting with Taehyung, and it honestly had been a lot more fun than you expected. The kids are wonderful silly little beings and Taehyung is...well...Taehyung.
You were cleaning up the living room on a late Friday afternoon after all the kids had been picked up. Taehyung was somewhere splitting up the week’s paycheck. Once all the toys were back in their respective bins, it was time to gather your stuff and go.
“Great work this week,” Taehyung commended as he handed you your cut.
“Thanks! Same to you as always. I’ll see you on Monday,” you wave as you open the front door.
“Actually um--” Taehyung cleared his throat.
“Yes?” you whipped around with almost too much eagerness.
“My friend is part of an art gallery showing tomorrow night and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me? I heard there will be drinks and finger foods…” Taehyung trailed off, presumably due to imagining what kind of snacks will be served.
“I’d love to! I’m not an expert on art or anything, but it sounds cool,” you smile.
“No worries, I’m no expert either. I’m just a guy who appreciates neat expressions of creativity,” he nodded humbly, “I can pick you up at your place, if you’d like.”
“Sure, I’ll text you my address. Oh uh, what’s the dress code like? I don’t really attend these things,” you ask shyly.
“I’d say a step down from formal? Like no t-shirts or jeans. Pretend like you’re going on a date to some restaurant that isn’t a michelin star but is still classier than Olive Garden,” Taehyung tried to explain.
“I’ll do my best,” you smile at his peculiar way of describing the appropriate attire.
A smile never left your face as you drove home. A chance to hangout with Taehyung one on one without any kids around? All of his attention will be on you? Yes please. You love the kids and all, but you finally have a real chance to get closer to Taehyung. To be honest, you might have the teensiest little crush on him, but who could blame you?
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The next day was spent preparing for your night out with Taehyung. It probably wasn’t a date (90% sure it’s not), but you wanted to look irresistible anyway. You put on a purple dress with flowy sleeves that made you feel like a princess. It was on the dressier side, but being slightly overdressed never hurt anyone.
You usually only had time to slap on mascara and a lip tint in the mornings before babysitting, but now you had abundant time to play around with your makeup. You settled for a soft yet glamorous look with shimmery eyeshadow and eyeliner. Sparkly lip gloss tied the whole look together and made your lips look tempting (or so you hoped). You decided to leave your hair alone since you were having a miraculously good hair day.
“Wow are you sure this isn’t a date?” Hyuna whistled when she walked into your room.
“It’s not! This is just the first time Taehyung will see me actually trying to look good,” you say defensively.
“You’re cute even in ratty t-shirts, but I get what you mean. Have fun tonight!” your roommate gave you a tight hug.
A strong knock on your front door indicated Taehyung’s arrival. Hyuna tagged along as you went to answer the door; she wanted to see the guy you’ve been gushing over for the past month for herself.
Your mouth hung open in shock for a split second when you opened the door. Taehyung also dressed up. He was wearing a bright sunflower shirt paired with a black blazer that perfectly combined fun with sophistication. He wore a red silky bandana looking belt for an added pop of color with his black pants.
“Hey Taehyung!” you greet him happily.
“Good evening, Miss ____. You look spectacular!” he complimented you immediately.
“So do you! It’s funny seeing you not in a t-shirt, though I’m sure you’re thinking the same thing,” you say.
“You’re charming even in your graphic tees, but this is a nice change of pace too,” Taehyung agreed.
“Hi! I’m Hyuna, ____’s roommate,” Hyuna butted in to shake his hand.
“Hi, I’m Taehyung, ____’s babysitting partner,” he introduced himself.
“We should get going,” you say politely before Hyuna could start to get chatty.
Hyuna mouthed an exaggerated “oh my god” coupled with a double thumbs up as you waved goodbye after Taehyung was already out the door. You playfully rolled your eyes but blew her a kiss anyway.
“I didn’t realize you lived so close to me,” Taehyung said as he pulled away from the curb.
“Yeah, it made the job even more appealing,” you nodded.
“I really am glad that you applied,” Taehyung said softly, as if to himself.
“Sorry, what was that?” you couldn’t hear him properly.
“Nothing! I said I’m glad you agreed to accompany me tonight!” Taehyung quickly stated.
“Thanks for inviting me out! I’m actually pretty excited,” you admitted.
The gallery was somewhere in the swanky part of downtown. You gazed out of the window at all of the high end stores Taehyung drove by. Everyone walking around the stores looked like supermodels, which was actually pretty intimidating. What if the people at the gallery looked like that too?
“We’re here!” Taehyung announced, interrupting your thoughts.
There was a decent amount of people wandering around the venue when you both entered. It was basically one big dimly lit room with spotlights on pieces scattered around on the walls plus some sculptures in the middle. Thankfully, the patrons already inside looked like normal people, most of them probably students like you.
“Taehyung!” someone called from the side of the room.
You both made your way towards the voice, only to find a man who was just as handsome as Taehyung greeting you with a bunny like smile. He had long hair that almost covered up his assorted dangly earrings. He definitely had art student vibes mixed with a dash of bad boy. The boys greeted each other with a ferocious hug, indicating that they’re probably good friends.
“Oh! What’s up, I’m Jungkook,” the boy shook your hand once he noticed you.
“She’s my babysitting partner this summer,” Taehyung said proudly.
“She’s replacing Jimin huh?” Jungkook laughed, “Taehyung and Jimin are like my brothers. We were all pretty close in college and are batchmates, even though I’m younger than them,” he stuck his tongue out at Taehyung.
“Yeah yeah okay whatever. Skipping grades in elementary school and bringing in a ton of transfer credits will help you do that I guess,” Taehyung shook his head even though he was still smiling.
“Are these your pictures?” you asked Jungkook, motioning to the mounted pictures behind him.
“Yeah! I took most of these in Madrid, I’ve been working abroad for my dream company,” Jungkook answered you proudly.
“Who’s this?” Taehyung pointed to a picture of a girl laughing by a giant tree.
“Yeah, she’s gorgeous!” you added.
“She’s um...a good friend. She was the perfect model,” Jungook said with a faraway look in his eyes that told you there was more to the story.
“Tell me more about her on our next phone call. Tonight is for celebrating you!” Taehyung picked up on Jungkook’s sudden change of tone.
You enjoyed listening to their old college stories as the boys reminisced about their past together. Jungkook relished telling you all of Taehyung’s embarrassing moments at various parties. Taehyung returned the favor by recalling Jungkook’s past run-ins with women. Despite his natural charm and god like looks, apparently Jungkook gets really nervous around girls.
You and Taehyung were on your own once Jungkook was flagged down by an older patron interested in purchasing some of his work. Taehyung stayed close to your side as you explored the rest of the gallery. Each artist was so incredibly talented as their pictures told  stories with just a single frame.
“____ look! They have those fancy charcuterie boards!” Taehyung grabbed your hand and excitedly dragged you over to the snack table. You couldn’t help but smile at his childlike elation.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve been getting tired of being force fed fruit snacks every day,” you laughed as you ate the assorted appetizers.
“I completely understand. Unfortunately, the kids are too sweet when they want to share. I don’t have it in me to turn them down,” Taehyung agreed.
Once the food was eaten, you resumed walking through the gallery. It was fun making up stories to go with each picture. Taehyung seemed to gravitate towards adding a romantic twist to each story, while you opted for a bit of mystery. At the end of the event, Taehyung met up with Jungkook once more to say his goodbyes.
“Thanks again for coming with me, I had fun! I hope you enjoyed yourself,” Taehyung said as he drove you back.
“It was really neat! I liked hanging out with you outside of work,” you nodded.
“Would you say it was a successful date then?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow with curiosity. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes widened with surprise.
“Was...was this a date?” you asked quietly.
“Did you want it to be?” Taehyung teased.
“I wouldn’t have gotten so dressed up otherwise,” you said defensively, taken aback by his sudden cheekiness.
“I realized I should’ve clarified that after you had already left. My bad,” Taehyung shot you a boxy grin, “But then I figured maybe you would be more relaxed if I didn’t mention it.”
“That’s odd logic, but I guess it worked,” you admitted begrudgingly.
Taehyung walked you back up to your house. He sweetly kissed your cheek and bid you goodnight, leaving you frozen in place.
“S-see you on Monday!” was all you were able to stammer out, to which Taehyung just smiled and waved back.
Hyuna happily freaked out with you once you were back inside. She was watching you from the moment Taehyung pulled back up. She shrieked with excitement once you told her that Taehyung confirmed that it was a date. Hyuna didn’t let up with grilling questions about how your night went. She even asked if the Jungkook guy you met was single, to which you truthfully answered that you didn’t know.
“Besides, he told me himself that he’s scared of girls. You’re scary enough as is,” you teased her.
“Oh shut up. So is Taehyung like, your boyfriend now?” Hyuna asked the million dollar question.
“I don’t think so. I think it was just a date, but that’s a good start!” you declared optimistically.
Babysitting on Monday went on like normal. Taehyung didn’t act any differently, which was both concerning and relieving. You were in the backyard pretending to eat whatever dirt concoction the little kids were serving you.
“This one is for you,” Lucy quietly offered Taehyung a clump of dirt sprinkled with blades of grass, topped with a dandelion.
“Oh, how pretty! What is it?” Taehyung played along.
“It’s a love potion. The next person you hug will fall in love with you,” Lucy smiled.
A smirk crept on Taehyung’s face as he pretended to eat Lucy’s love potion. He made a satisfied “Ahh” sound that made Lucy giggle.
“Tae has to hug me now! He loves me the most!” Sam yelled as he ran over to latch onto Taehyung.
“No, Tae loves me!” Bel argued as he pulled on Taehyung’s shirt.
“That’s not how it works!” Lucy huffed as she yelled at the boys.
You watched with delight as the little kids chased Taehyung around the backyard, demanding that he has to hug them. It was easy for him to juke them out as they constantly ran back and forth. You were content with just watching them until Taehyung began to make a beeline for you.
“Oh no no no,” you cried as you got up to run.
Taehyung (and the kids) chased you around for a little bit. The backyard was on the smaller side, so there wasn’t much space to evade all of them coming for you at once. To make matters worse, Taehyung actually started to try and catch you. His speed was no joke; he was much more agile than you gave him credit for.
With one pounce, Taehyung tackled you to the ground. Somehow he managed to whip himself around while you were falling, so you ended up falling on him. Now wrapped up in his arms, Taehyung smiled up at you with a shit eating grin.
“I guess you have to fall in love with me now,” he smirked.
“You wish,” you laughed as you pulled yourself up.
“Aw now he loves Miss _____,” Sam pouted.
“No, now Miss ____ has to fall in love with Tae,” Ava corrected him.
“That’s dumb,” Kota shook his head.
“Tae! Kota said a bad word!” Bel immediately tattled.
“Kota, remember what I said about bad words. No one wants to play with someone who says mean things,” Taehyung chided him.
“Sorry,” Kota mumbled.
“Let’s play go play inside. Who wants juice?” Taehyung patted Kota’s head.
The kids followed Taehyung inside like little ducklings. You loved that sight, you always thought it was the cutest thing. The rest of the day went by without a hitch.
The topic of favorite movies came up during lunchtime the next day.
“I like Frozen 2,” Ava stated, and Lucy nodded furiously in agreement.
“Detective Pikachu was better. Pikachu is funny,” Sam interjected. The other little boys then began to argue about which pokemon was better/stronger.
“I’m not really a big movie watcher,” Taehyung confessed as he took a bite of a dino chicken nugget.
“Have you at least seen the classics? Harry Potter? Lord of the Rings? Star Wars?” you listed with concern.
“I’ve seen Harry Potter and Star Wars. I think I saw the Lord of the Rings? I can’t really remember. I know I wanted to watch the newer Lord of the Rings movies,” he chuckled at your growing disbelief.
“Newer Lord of the Rings? You mean the Hobbit series?” you were disgruntled.
“Yeah those. I didn’t realize you were a nerd,” he nudged you.
“What of it? All of those are great movies. I have copies of the Hobbit series if you ever wanted to watch them,” you offered.
“Do you wanna watch them with me?” he perked up.
“Sure, I love them! You wanna do a marathon? It’ll take up a full day though,” you warned.
“I’m down. Are you free this Sunday?”
“I believe so.”
“Great! I’m excited to see you geek out over hobbits. Okay kids, naptime!”
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You drove up to Taehyung’s place Sunday morning, you weren’t kidding when you said it would take all day. Taehyung said to dress comfortably so you showed up in your sweatpants and oversized college tee. He answered the door wearing gray sweatpants and his favorite CELINE shirt. His dark fluffy hair fell over his forehead and was almost long enough to cover his eyes.
“Good morning! I hope you’re hungry. I made some waffles to eat while we watch the first movie,” he greeted you.
His humble abode smelled heavenly as the scent of dough tinged with a hint of cinnamon wafted through the air. The soft belgian waffles were delicious as they practically melted in your mouth. Taehyung asked a ton of questions with nearly every scene, but you didn’t mind. You were happy to flex your knowledge of Tolkien lore.
Hours later, you found yourself cuddled up with Taehyung as the final credits of the Battle of Five Armies began to roll. Taehyung was still trying to process everything that happened as he asked you clarifying questions about each character.
“Well crap, now I’m sad,” he pouted.
“Yeah, the ending is kind of a downer, but that’s what makes it so good! The Lord of the Rings has a happy ending if that makes you feel better,” you look up at him from his chest.
“You look cute like that,” he observed.
“Like what? Tiny from your angle?” you tilted your head.
“I guess so? Tiny, maybe submissive,” Taehyung’s voice lowered with his suggestion.
“Submissive? Is that how you see me?” you sit back up completely with defiance.
“Not at all. You’re pretty feisty, which is why making you be submissive is even more alluring,” he raised his eyebrow in a suggestive manner.
“Do you want me to be a damsel in distress for you? Not happening,” you smirked.
“Pretty princesses are good for one thing,” Taehyung hopped off the couch.
Before you could say anything, he promptly grabbed you and swung you over his shoulder. You were too shocked by his boldness and physical abilities to retaliate.
“They’re perfect for kidnapping!” he let out a dramatic evil laugh as he carried you off to his bedroom.
Once there, he roughly threw you on the bed. You couldn’t help but look around curiously since this was the first time you’ve ever seen his room. It was surprisingly neat; his bed was made and there were no messy clothing piles in sight.
“Are you an evil dragon then? Capturing princesses and such?” you teased.
“Evil dragon, dashing captor, I can be anything you want me to be. Just please not an orc,” he let out a chuckle before getting back into character, “Just know that you’re trapped here with me. No one is going to rescue you.”
“Oh no! What a terrible situation to be in! What on Earth is this extremely handsome dragon going to do with a poor defenseless princess like me?” you taunted.
“Ok this is all very hot but before we go any further, are you okay with this?” Taehyung asked sincerely.
“I can’t think of anything that I’ve wanted more,” you nodded.
“Perfect. Safe word is red,” he winked at you, “Now strip for me, princess.”
“And if I don’t?” you challenged.
Taehyung grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of your head and forcefully brought you up to his face, “I suggest not making me angry,” he sneered.
You didn’t think you were one for being manhandled, but god damn that was hot. There was already a tingle between your legs and he hadn’t even really touched you yet. You complied with his request, and quickly tore off your shirt and pants. Though you weren’t wearing any fancy lingerie, you were wearing a gray bra and gray panties that could pass off as matching.
“Mmm what a pretty treasure. It would be a shame to let it gounappreciated,” Taehyung stretched out that last word as he gently ran his fingers from your torso up to your neck before firmly grasping it.
Taehyung straddled you as his long fingers were wrapped around your neck. Slowly, he leaned down to kiss you. Though apprehensive at first, he gradually got more bold with it. His tongue dipped into your mouth the instant your lips parted. His other hand crept under your bra to fondle your breast.
“You take your clothes off too,” you said as soon as the kiss broke.
“You don’t get to make any demands, silly princess,” Taehyung shook his head.
You pouted and reached out to tug at his pants anyway. Big mistake. Taehyung slapped your hand away and slammed you back onto the bed.
“You don’t listen, huh? I’ll have to do something about that. Stay still or else you’ll make things worse for yourself,” he ordered.
You reluctantly obeyed, partly because you were curious about what he was going to do, and partly because you were actually intimidated by him. He returned back to the bed a few seconds later, but with a familiar silky red belt in hand.
“Give me your hands. Good girl,” he smiled deviously as he bound them together, “Remember the safe word is red, okay?” he gently reminded you.
He looked down at you with a satisfied grin as he began to take off his sweatpants. He had an obvious bulge in his underwear that outlined his massive dick. You were further entranced by his physique when he took off his shirt. He wasn’t ripped, but he was still fit, as you could plainly see when his chest was finally revealed.
“Open wide, princess,” he demanded.
You opened your mouth, and even flattened your tongue out a little bit for him. He pulled his cock out of his underwear, finally exposing his full length. You doubted you could fit even half of him in your mouth, but at this point it wasn’t up to you.
Taehyung lowered himself down to you, and teasingly tapped the tip of his cock on your tongue. He slowly eased himself into your mouth, forcing you to open your mouth even wider to account for his girth. He made his way back out once you gagged. He grabbed your head to hold you steady as he fucked your mouth once more. He got closer and closer to the back of your throat until he finally hit it. All you could focus on was breathing as tears welled up in your eyes. Taehyung thrusted a couple more times before he pulled out completely.
“Good girl indeed. Well done, princess,” he softly stroked your chin before wiping your tears away. All you could do was smile meekly back at him.
“Don’t worry, it’s time for your reward,” Taehyung smiled down at you as his hand slipped under your panties, “Oh you’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you.”
He positioned himself between your thighs after he tore off your panties. His thumb fiddled with your clit, causing you to squirm. He placed a strong grip on your thigh to hold you down as he circled your clit faster. Your helpless whimpers were music to Taehyung’s ears.
Without warning, he easily stuck two fingers into you. He didn’t even let you adjust as he rapidly fingered you, his fingers curving to graze your g-spot with every stroke. His tongue swirled around your clit, adding even more toe curling sensations.
Him adding a third finger was the catalyst for the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had in your life. There wasn’t even a build up, everything just hit you at once. Suddenly you were crying out even louder as you violently came. Did it occur to you that you were squirting all over Taehyung and his bed? No. Were you doing exactly that? Absolutely.
“Delicious,” Taehyung said as he licked his lips, “Look at the fucking mess you made.”
“I-i’m sorry,” you managed to stutter, you were still recovering from your orgasm.
“It’s only fair that it’s my turn to make a mess now. Do I need to get a condom, princess?” he cooed.
You weakly shook your head. You needed to feel all of him, right now. Taehyung chuckled at your neediness as he aligned himself with your pussy. He slowly inserted his entire length into you until the base of his cock touched your soaked pussy. You moaned together as he stayed still for a second. You looked up to see Taehyung’s face lit up with pure bliss.
“You’re still so fucking wet,” he growled as he began to mercilessly buck his hips into you.
You moaned with every thrust as Taehyung shook the entire bed. Taehyung placed both of your legs on his shoulders, allowing him to hit you even deeper from this new angle. He leaned over to plant his lips on your neck as he fucked you. What started as a gentle peck took a violent turn as he harshly sucked on your neck. He left dark spots wherever his lips touched, and soon you were covered in dark blooms.
“Do you want me to soil your back or your chest?” he asked in a guttural tone.
“Back?” you answer dubiously.
You were immediately flipped over. You were laying flat on your chest waiting for him to prop up your ass, but he never did. Instead, he simply spread your legs wider and fucked you flat against the bed. Taehyung grabbed your ass and spread your cheeks to get a better view of your sopping pussy. You could feel another orgasm brewing as he fucked even deeper into you, and his cock was continuously dragging against your g-spot.
“Taehyung, I--”
“I know, princess. Let it all out. I want to feel you come on my dick,” he demanded.
A few more strong strokes was all it took for you to go limp under him as your orgasm took over. Seconds after you hit your high, Taehyung pulled out and came all over your back.
Once you were all cleaned up, Taehyung untied you and kissed your forehead.
“How was it, princess?” he asked as he stroked your hair.
“I’ve never been fucked by a beast before, but now I don’t want anything else,” you admitted before kissing his neck.
“Good. I was worried about going overboard. As I told you before, I really like getting into character,” he laughed.
“I’ve never been into roleplay but I’m willing to change for you. Oh shit, it’s late already,” you noticed the time on his alarm clock.
“Just stay the night. I don’t think the kids will care if you’re wearing sweatpants or not. I can lend you a turtleneck to cover up those hickies though,” Taehyung yawned.
“Are you sure?” you questioned.
“Yeah, I don’t mind. Be warned, I’m a cuddler,” he pulled you closer to him.
“I guess I can sleep in a little later then,” you reasoned.
“Perfect. Goodnight, princess,” he quickly kissed your lips.
“You’re sleeping like that?”
“Like what?”
“Butt naked?”
“I can put clothes on if it makes you uncomfortable. I just figured it would make things easier for tomorrow morning,” he said sleepily.
“Tomorrow morning?” that got your attention.
“You’ll see! Be patient, princess. Night night.”
Never in a million years would you have guessed that applying for a babysitting job would result in this, but you weren’t complaining.
Published April 17, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.
928 notes · View notes
writingsbychlo · 3 years
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sun in the shadows (03)
word count; 12,706
summary; trying to make some headway on the study leads to an interesting revelation, and progress in your friendship with noah.
notes; if this part is a little sucky, I apologise. it was a last minute addition that I created because I realised I wanted to include some extras.
warnings; brief mentions of panic attacks/anxiety, but it’s very mild.
The weather was improving, the drizzle of the winter and the grey skies overhead were getting lighter, the showers of rain were getting less frequent and the winter was moving on. Spring was making itself known, bulbs of daffodils were finally taking root in the soil, and green was sprouting from the earth that had been frozen over and dead only a couple of weeks ago. The watery floors were drying up, limited ice was fading away, and graduation was sitting right on the horizon for you all.
Your fingers flexed around the strap of your bag, rooting through the contents to find a place to slip your file inside, all your notes for the class you’d be having were inside, and there was a blank page for your next session waiting to be filled out. Once it had its place, albeit getting a little bit crumbled against the other content, you removed your wallet, a few coins jingling in the bottom, and you hoped it was enough for two coffees.
There was a coffee stand not too far away, and you were hoping an extra shot of coffee before you went in might get your brain working a little faster. Only a couple of feet ahead of you was a face you recognised, a dark jumper to match dark denim jeans, a pair of boots for motorbike riding that were beginning to scuff along the edges and the toes. He was hanging over his money, a brown bag holding a pretzel and a tall cup, the tell-tale tag of a teabag hanging over the edge, and he walked away.
Joining the back of the line, you watched him go, sitting not far across the quarter with his headphones on, settling on one of the recently repainted memorial benches. He pulled the tab on eh coffee back, opening it up and a cloud of steam left the drink, curling up into the air that still held a slight chill, drifting away to disappear as he blew against the surface of the drink. In his other hand was his phone, scrolling aimlessly on it as a way to keep himself disconnected from everyone else around him and prompt nobody else to join him. His bag was out on the bench too, pushed a short distance from his body in an attempt to take up the rest of the space to deter company.
Ordering a simple set of black coffees, and finding you had just enough change for a muffin too, you waited patiently for your order, an assortment of condiments and the double-chocolate treat you’d paid for being handed to you first. There was a grinding, the slight screech of the machine as it crushed the beans to create two black coffees for you, plastic lids sealed on and two cardboard jackets fastened around them.
Balancing the load between them all, you headed over to him, using your knee to nudge the bag up the bench until it bumped his leg, and he jerked slightly, looking up to see you. Offering him a beam, his narrowed eyes lightened a little, and he sighed. Putting down his phone and moving his bag to the floor, he lifted the headphones away from his ears, and let them hang around his neck. Sitting yourself down, he slumped back into the wood, and you scooted up to sit closer to him, placing the spare coffee you’d bought for Stiles on the floor away from your feet.
“Hey, Noah!” He gave a short nod, still a little uncomfortable, and he turned to face you more. “So, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”
“How did you know I was here?”
You shrugged, opening up the bag of extras and searching through for a couple of sweetener packets, and a wooden stirrer. “I didn’t. I was just gonna’ grab a coffee before class and head to my hall early, because, y’know, studying at home is distracting.” Your hand waved off the statement, finding the packets you wanted, and clutching your cup between your knees for stability. “So, anyway I was going to text you when I got there, but then I saw you, so I figured I’d come and say ‘hey’!”
“Right.”
“So, hey!” You waved a little before taking the top from your coffee, and leaving it on the bench beside yourself. “I ask once again, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”
“Well, since I am the most popular guy at this college, I’m pretty busy.” He smiled a little at his own joke, particularly when you gave him a laugh, and your brow raised.
“Oh, he’s got jokes today, huh? I like it, I can roll with that.” Tipping the sugar into the cup, you added a couple of packets, before stirring it slowly. “I take it you’re free, then. I was hoping we could squeeze in some study stuff this afternoon. I have a class in a couple of minutes, but I wanted to see if you were free?”
“Well, I’m free all day. I had a six AM class.” His face screwed up at the idea, and you could feel his pain, having spent the entirety of your sophomore year with a teacher who held lectures at six AM so she could avoid her morning sickness before class, and rush home for it afterwards. Professor Anderson going off on her maternity leave was the best thing that had happened to your education that year.
“Great, I’ll sort it with Stiles, and we’ll text you the details.”
“Sounds like a thrill. I can hardly wait.” He smiles, the sarcasm just like his brothers as it came through, and you repaid him for the joke with a chuckle. While the two of you had made progress, you could tell he was still a little unsure around you. You were polar opposites and he didn’t take well to that, the atmosphere that you brought with you could be a little too much for him to handle sometimes, you couldn’t stop the guilt that was eating at you a little. “What’s wrong? You’ve got a look on your face like you want to talk about things. Just warning you, I’m not good at that heart-to-heart stuff.”
“Yeah, I’ve witnessed that.”
“Shut it.” He teased, sticking his tongue out at you childishly, and you grinned cheesily in reply to him. “You can tell me, though. Can’t promise I’ll help, but..”
“It’s nothing weighing me down. I just wanted to apologise. I clearly interrupted your free time. You got yourself a little pretzel to eat in silence, and everything.” He offers you a blank look at your slight dig, and you only winked, waving the muffin in a bag that you’d bought, and taking a sip of your coffee once the lid was sealed back on. “People usually like it when I stop by to see them, I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay, really.” His words were strained, the response bringing you no relief as he forced them out, and your frown remained. “I’m serious, okay? It’s alright.”
You were trying your best but learning the lines with Noah was different to you. Upon starting college you’d been thrown in at the deep end of socialisation and a whole world you’d never quite had access to before. Coming from a smaller town that had always limited your expectations was tough, and you’d taken it differently from the way Noah had. You’d had so many experiences, becoming legal to drink and venturing beyond your comfort zone, truly leaving home and facing the idea of having your life laid out before you, the first time truly having your heartbroken, and being too far to simply collapse into the arms of your mom or dad for support when things got messed up.
“When does your class start?” You jumped, lost in your thoughts as you slumped back into the bench, and you sat up straight again, turning to find that Noah was already looking at you, eyes scanning over you slowly. It was a good reminder, time had been slipping away from you and in the ease of his peaceful and quiet company, you could have sat there for hours.
Checking your watch, you sighed, lifting your bag strap back up onto your shoulder more securely, and packing everything you had with you inside, leaving you to hold a coffee cup in each hand. “In about ten minutes.”
“How about I walk you?” He picked up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder, and you nodded, a warmer feeling at his offer blooming where cold guilt had been. Standing up and making sure not to spill any of the scalding coffee onto your hand. Peering around the busy campus quarters that was more filled now than it had been for months, the lighter weather tempting groups to come out of their dormitories and the cafés to gather outside instead.
He fell into step beside you, toes scuffing occasionally on the slightly uneven stonework of the quad, before it fell away into smooth concrete pathways on the way to your lecture. The grass alongside each path was growing greener, dull colour fading away into something brighter. Paper crinkled beside you, the cup of tea in his hands being finished and the cardboard cup was crushed between string fingers, knuckles even paler than usual as he crumpled it up, and as you approach the closest bin, it was disposed of.
Your fingers flexed around your coffee cup, almost having forgotten that it was there as the heat from the two began to fade away a little. Taking a sip, the refreshing burst of sweetened caffeine was like a spark to your system, and you revelled in it. “How do you take your coffee?”
You lower the cup from your lips, swallowing your mouthful, and you couldn't stop the rise of your brows once you turned to look at him. “Creamer, usually. I like a caramel flavoured one. But, since I’m not big on creamer in packets or from street vendors, this one just has sweeteners.”
“Cool.” He nodded, and your lips pressed together tightly to try and contain the smile you wanted to let free, silence forming between you both for a moment, a further gathering of steps as the two of you went on, your building coming into sight again. “Did you watch the news last night?”
“Is this small talk?”
“It’s an attempt at small talk.” He winced, and you chuckled, a small smile on his features as the fear of judgement or humiliation washed away, and he gave a sigh.
“Okay, let's try this.” Your mind spun, searching for a track of something to talk about, and a thought clicked into space. “If you could watch one genre of movies for the rest of your life, what would it be?”
“Comedy. Like, comedy-action. You know, ones like ‘Jumanji’ or something?” He was quick with it, certain about his answer, and you nodded.
“Yeah? That was quick. How come you’re so sure?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, one hand coming up to hold his bag strap, swinging it to the side to be able to get inside, and fish out the paper bag with a pretzel inside. “I guess I just think they’re good for you. Good for the soul. They have action and it keeps you a little on the edge of your seat, but it’s funny. It's easy-going, when you’ve got anxiety, or you’re having a bad day, or you just want background noise, they’re perfect.”
“Alright. Fair enough. Okay, tricky one.” his eyes narrowed a little, but an amused look passed over his features while he waited. “If you had to choose specifically between comedy and action, which is it?”
“It’s got to be action. Because comedy usually means Adam Sandler or Seth Rogen, and some of their comedies are good, but some are jus-” He paused, jaw dropping a little, and his hand came out, pausing in front of your to bring you to a halt too. A smile curled on your lips, and he looked shocked. “Holy shit, you’re good!”
“Ask a basic question that people are passionate about, it always leads to more options, and everyone always wants to talk about something fun.” His head shook slowly, as though he was in disbelief, and you took a dramatic bow, trying not to spill the coffees in your hands as you giggled. “Give it a go, I bet you can do it.”
The paper in his hands crinkled, your footsteps taking up again, and the two of you were making your way towards the building once again. Taking a bite from his pretzel, a piece torn away with his teeth, he thought it over. “Does your family have any secret or ‘famous’ recipes?”
“Oh, that’s a good one. Kudos to you, Noah.”
“Thank you. I thought about it for, like, eight whole seconds.” He grinned, the joke moving away from you both as you left it behind, and you thought about his question.
“Maybe it’s not my family recipe, just a personal one, but I’m great at making lasagne.” He scoffed, and you nudged him with your elbow. “I’m serious! I make a great lasagne!”
“You don’t seem like a cook to me, is all! You seem like the sort of person who’d manage to burn a pit of water.”
“You can’t burn water, an.. oh, I just got it. You jerk.” It was a joke, your nose screwing up as you stuck your tongue out at him, thanking him a second later as he held the door open for him. The bright lights of the outside changed to artificial lights in the halls, not as much coming through the windows as trees outside managed to cast shade into the building. “Well, I can cook. I love to cook, and I’m good at it. Especially lasagne. My family are generally the only ones who have ever had it, and thanks to that insult, you’ll never have it.”
“Oh, woah, no! You have to let me try it now. Prove me wrong, or I’ll be forced to believe you’re bluffing.”
“You’re sneaky.” You scoffed, students filling the hall and filtering in from different sides of the building, lectures in different halls all waiting to take place, and you stepped to the side of the corridor once your doorway was within reach. “If you’re lucky.”
“I’m betting on that.”
Glancing back, Stiles was already inside, as expected. Stiles Stilinski had never once been on time, he was either twenty minutes early or twenty minutes late, and since he’d spent the night with Derek, who was an early bird, you’d figured which one today would be. His head was slumped on his hm half-asleep and on the verge of drooling as he sat there, and you chuckled, turning to Noah. “Thanks for walking me. Also, thanks for small-talking with me.”
“Thanks for the advice on small talk.”
“I’m gonna’ head inside, but, I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded, confirming the times with you, and lingering a moment longer. It was quiet, but not so tense, and he rolled on the balls of his fete, the half-eaten pretzel in his hands was seemingly abandoned as one hand tucked into his jeans pockets, the other hanging limply while holding the delicacy by his side.
“Thanks for sitting with me. This wasn’t so bad. It was almost fun.”
“You know, one day, you’re gonna’ tell me you had fun with me. I look forward to that day.” He smirked, your head tipping to the side at the expression.
“If you’re lucky.” He was repeating your own words back to you, and you beamed at the chance. Backing away from him slightly, you fixed him with the cheekiest glance you could as you walked through the doorway.
“I’m betting on it.”
You could hear his laugh once you were gone, into the classroom and beginning to take the steps up to a seat beside Stiles that he’d reserved for you, his bag sitting on it. He’d already gotten his equipment out, notepads and pencil laid out in a somewhat organised mess on top of the desk.
Placing the two coffees down, you moved Stiles bag to the floor, tucking it behind his chair and a soft snore made itself known from him, the boy not doing well with early mornings but he never had, not once in your years of knowing him had he handled it very well, so it was no surprise.
“Opening up your bag, you dropped your notebook down onto the surface with a loud ‘slapping’ sound, and he jerked upwards, flailing as he did, and almost knocking the coffees over. Blinking quickly and shaking sleep away, he looked around, eyes wide as he finally focused on you.
“Jesus Christ, don’t do that.” He chastised you, leaning back in his seat and holding a hand over his heart. “I was dreaming about high school, I thought you were my lacrosse Coach waking me up for falling asleep in class again.”
“Maybe I am.” You winked, slamming a hand down on the counter. “Drop and give me twenty, Stilinski! Right now!”
“Don’t do that, it’s eerily accurate.” He cringed, shuddering a little, before a wide smile replaced the horrified expression that had morphed, and you pushed a coffee over to him. “You brought me a coffee?”
“Yes, I did. It’s bribery.”
“Oh? What am I being bribed for?” He was curious, rooting through the bag of condiments for it and taking the plastic lid from the cup, steam curling out into the air. Taking an ungodly and certainly unhealthy amount of sweetener and sugar packets to load into his coffee.
“Your free time this afternoon. I’m thinking about getting some of my study done, I can get all the work for the next couple of sessions sorted now, but how do you feel about being asked some later?” He tipped them in, a drop of coffee flying up over the edge and landing on the desk as he stirred his drink with vigour, that same hyper excitement that he always had.
“Can’t I just fill them out now?”
“It’d be better if I could get your responses with Noah.” He sighed, rolling his eyes and making a scene of it, but there was a smile that told you he already agreed.
“You should have brought me two coffees, but fine.”
You let out a victorious ‘aha!’, and shook the little brown paper bag that was still sitting on your half of the desk at him. “I also brought you half of a muffin!”
“Only half of a muffin?”
“Well, it was none, but since I didn’t eat it yet and I’d feel bad eating it in front of you, I decided to share it.” You tore it in half, pushing half across the scratched and vandalised wooden surface to him. Crumbs were left along the surface, and Stiles pressed the pad of his finger along them to gather them all up.
“Oh, right. Well, in that case, what I meant was; wow, a full half of a muffin!” He cheered, much more enthusiasm, and you nodded.
“Much better.” At the front of the classroom, your tutor entered, door slamming behind him as he kicked the wedge out from underneath, and his case was placed down on the desk. The room began a hushed quiet, save for the loud slurping of Stiles with his coffee beside you.
“You know,” Your best friend didn’t understand the concept of a whisper, everything he did was more like a dramatic stage whisper on a Broadway show, and a few dirty looks were sent his way. The professor was used to this, a year of experience and advice from previous tutors guiding him to ignore Stiles’ fidgeting and chatter. “You’re going to have to convince Noah to do this.”
Slumping down in your seat a little more, you turned your head to him, nibbling on your half of the muffin. “I already did.”
“What?” This time he was hushed, the man standing at the front near his desk, trying his best to give extra advice to everyone and answer any common questions that he’d been emailed. You’d have to catch the after-class notes in your emails. “When d’you do that?”
“This morning before class. I saw him while getting coffee for you and we walked over.”
Stiles huffed, his brows being pulled together slightly. “Okay. Damn, he was my last free shot at getting the afternoon off.” You grinned, pinching at your friend’s cheek, and he smacked your hand away. “Quit it, I’ve told you not to do that before.”
“In case I pinch your moles off?”
“That's where my power is. My funny is in my moles.” He hissed, only making you laugh more, and you covered your mouth with your hand over his silly superstitions.
“Whatever, freak.”
“Hoe.” He snarked back, and you grinned, punching at his shoulder as best you could from this angle, and he reached up a hand to rub at it. “So, if we’re doing this, I at least want to do it at my place. I’m going out this evening, I gotta’ be ready. Derek’s sisters are coming up to visit.”
“It won’t take long, don’t worry.” He hummed, pulling out his phone and keeping it ducked from view. He was texting his brother, letting him know to be ready, and at what time your class would be ending, giving him a little time to prepare. Opening your book up and flicking to the page you had marked, it was a journal written about the study of the ways that twins raised in different households could grow up similarly, and you were hoping to adopt some of the content for your study.
“So, what’ve you got done so far?”
Stile sighed, flicking open his notebook, and you were shocked by the fact that he was already at the end of it. There were pieces of paper stuck in, a list of book references on one of the tabs down the side of a page, and only a few blank pages left at the back.
“Oh, wow, okay.” You stared at your notebook, barely reaching a quarter of the way through with the notes you’d been making, and it looked like Stiles was ready to start making progress towards a conclusion for his hypothesis. “So, you’ve got a whole lot done, then.”
“Yeah, well, I want to spend as little time in a prison as I possibly can.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead, the pages crammed full of information as he flicked through to find a blank one. “Plus, I didn’t want to go and interview inmates on my own, so I wait until Derek has free time to go with me, and I get as much done in those sessions as I can.”
“You’re gonna’ be done weeks before I am.” You pouted, your pen twirling at the top corner of a page, drawing a collation of pretty flowers to form a border, and he chuckled.
“I have easier test subjects than you do. They’re already guilty and behind bars, they’re more than happy to open up. You’ve gotta’ deal with Noah.”
“That’s true.” You grinned, thinking back on the conversation you’d had with the other twin that morning. When he was alone, it wasn’t so bad, he talked more and he wasn’t so worried about judgements, but as soon as there was someone else who might hear, he completely closed down.
“Hey, seriously, we have ages left. You’re gonna’ be just fine.”
“I’m just freaking out a little bit, because this is the last hurdle, y’know?” He nodded, and you could see whatever it was he was thinking practically swirling in his eyes, because Stiles’ emotions were open to read like a book.
“It’s terrifying. It’s, like, what the hell are we supposed to do when we finish?”
“I don’t know.” Your head dropped to your hands, fingers soothingly rubbing at your temples. A large hand landed on your back, rubbing in comforting circles. “What I do know, though, is that if I don’t get on with coming up with some more content, I’m never gonna’ finish this study in time.”
“Well, put your headphones on and come up with some questions.”
You did as told, plugging your earbuds in and choosing some classical music that would make it easier to concentrate. Opening one of your survey works back up to the page you’d left off at, your eyes began to flicker over the pages, picking out the useful information. Once you had a list built, you had a foundation to work from, questions to create and organise into groups, different sessions being able to come together.
Beside you, Stiles’ hand never seemed to stop rising, a constant dialogue with your tutor as he checked his work and ironed out any kinks in his study. He was also full of chatter and laughter, getting along with everyone around him and asking about their works, making you turn your music up several times just to be able to concentrate. But, by the end of the session, when Stiles was tugging your earbud out and telling you your class was over, you had a solid three pages worth of questions that had been split up into sessions, and ready to be worked through.
“Pack up and get ready to go. I have plans to get ready for.”
Stiles already had his bag in his arms, notebook tucked inside and pens and pencils put away, two empty coffee cups and a muffin wrapper sitting out, which he quickly gathered up, once his bag was on his shoulder. He was gone, walking past you and down to the waste bin at the front of the hall to dispose of them, his fingers tapping idly on his thigh once he was done.
You gathered your belongings, packing them away and curling the wire of your headphones back up neatly, making sure everything had its correct place in your bag, before following him down and out of the steps.
The halls were filled once again, the two of you navigating through crowds to the outside of the building, and you followed him in his diversion across the pathway, all the way to his car. Some students had already left, spaces beginning to empty out as a bottleneck effect took place at the only entrance and exit to this carpark.
“Where’s your car?” The dirty blue jeep was one of the only ones left in the parking lot, Stiles looking around for your vehicle, and you sighed.
“Don’t get me started on that hunk of junk.” You growled, stomping a foot on the floor as Stiles laughed. Opening the driver’s side door, he hopped up inside of it, legs dangling from the chair. “I’m trying not to use it as much. It splutters when it starts up and I have to try it a whole bunch of times, so the less I use it, the closer to graduation we can get before it eventually taps out.”
“You ever think about just getting it fixed?”
“Oh, big words from the man whose engine is held together with duct tape.” Your hand rubbed over the hood of the car, a slightly dusty layer that made you cringe, and you wiped your hand off on your jacket to stop it.
“Touché.” Stiles only smirked. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride to my place. I’ll be waiting for hours if you walk.”
He slammed his car door once his legs were inside, leaning over the centre console to pop open the passenger side door as you rounded the car, and he was sparking up the car before you were even fully inside. Slamming it shut, he was reversing from his spot as you clipped in your safety belt, swinging his car around, and you gripped onto the edge of the door. “Easy there, fast and furious.”
“Oh, relax. Nobody is around.”
“Except for me, and I’d like to live until graduation.” His eyes rolled, hitting the brakes and flicking on the indicators as he was leaving the parking lot, moving out onto the main roads. There weren’t so many other cars, the mid-afternoon meaning the other students were mostly in class, in bed, or eating their lunch. College was a weird time, and while you’d loved it, you couldn't wait to regain some kind of normality. “Can we swing by my place? I need to swap out my books. I don’t want to carry all these around.”
“Okay, but be quick! I have to be ready by six and out the door by six-thirty. Derek will kill me if I’m late for this.” His fingers were tapping on the steering wheel as he changed direction to head to your place instead of his own. The space between you both was filled with the radio, the simple tunes of classic 70s anthems, the songs Stiles had grown up with, his dad’s favourite records and he played them constantly. He knew all the words, mouthing along and banging his head, pausing occasionally to check the mirrors and the roads between dancing in his seat.
Rolling the window down as he slowed in his approach to the building, afresh air swept into the carbon of the car, the slightly musty smell of the older car was something you’d miss when it was gone. The shade of the concrete cover overhead was chillier than the sunny roads, and he swung himself haphazardly into a parking space.
“I’ll turn the car around and wait here, cool?”
“I won’t take long, promise!” Hopping from the car and closing the door, you leant on the open door frame, and Stiles slouched in his seat, as he usually did. “Lydia and Ally should both be out, so there’s nobody for me to even talk to.”
“Good, because you’re chatty.” He teased, and you flipped him off, a quick walk as you headed away from him to the stairs. Once you were there, you were taking a quick jog up the sets of stairs, headed for your floor, and balancing your books in your arms carefully. Rooting through your bag to find your keys, they were at the bottom, jingling tantalisingly for you to find.
Leaving your books on the countertop of the kitchen, you shifted through them, taking the notebook you needed and leaving the rest, piling them back up and taking them to your bedroom Abandoned on the desk, you rushed to change, throwing on a bigger and warmer jumper to get through the rest of the day, phone in your pocket and a bag on your arm. Passing back through the kitchen, you were ready to grab the notebook and bag you’d left there, keys hanging in the back of the door, and you eyed the freezer.
You’d made a bet, a point to prove, and you were certain that buried somewhere deep in the bottom, you had a frozen lasagne from the last time you’d made it for Allison and Lydia. You had a few spare moments, and so you moved over to the freezer, opening the door and crouching to scan over all the shelves.
Running your fingers over frozen plastic, you searched for the right one. Tinfoil crinkling in the back, behind a bag of dinosaur chicken nuggets and a tray of alcoholic ice cubes, was a tray of lasagne. Pulling it out, the cold chilled your arm, even through the layers of your hoodie, and you used your foot to close the freezer while wrapping the tray in the nearest tea towel for an extra layer.
Placing your notebook over it and holding it in both arms for security, you clicked the latch onto the door, keys in your pocket and bag on your shoulder to let it swing closed behind you.
Stiles saw you coming, his head snapping over to the metal door between the stairwell and the parking lot when it fell open, backing through it and his brows raised. Opening up the passenger side door, he took the lasagne from you when you handed it over, climbing back into the vehicle.
“This is cold. What is it?”
“Lasagne.” You settled it onto your lap once your safety belt was on, folding the towel underneath to keep your lap from getting chilled and painful, and he nodded. The engine was still running, and taking off the brakes, he was pulling out of the space again.
“So, not that I don’t love a home-cooked meal, but I’m going out for dinner. Why the traybake?”
“I have a point to prove to Noah.” You were looking out of the window, but you could feel his gaze on you, making you a little uncomfortable, and you turned to face him. His eyes were flicking between you and the road, brows furrowed, a stare like he was trying to figure you out, before he let it go. “He told me I looked like I couldn't cook, and it’s a battle I’m going to win.”
“Well, alright then. Save me leftovers?”
“We’ll see.” You winked, and he grinned, eyes flicking to the tray in your lap, before back to the road.
It was only a short journey, the distance between your place and Stiles’ building was short for a walk and even shorter in a car, on the edges of campus and conveniently placed, and it had been one of the building blocks of your friendship with him An easily accessible study partner, somewhere to hang out with, someone to walk home with you after a night out, someone to share a cab with, or simply knowing there was a friend so close to you.
“It’s going to be weird not living around the corner from you in just a few months.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He sighed, pulling into his one building sparking area and it didn’t have the luxury of being covered or underground, it was exposed each flat having allocated parking spaces, and Noah’s bike was parked underneath the shelter, you could see it from here, with a clamp around the wheel and covered from the impending and risky weather of the early months. “I have a feeling that you’ll end up living next door to me someday.”
“You do?”
He parked the car, arm behind your head as he reversed into it, ready to make a quick getaway on the next morning, or this evening, when he would invariably be late. In true Stiles Stilinski style. “Yeah. Especially after I rock whatever gown you want me to wear for being your maid of honour, someday.”
“Lydia is going to fight you for that role.”
“I will fistfight her for it.” He challenged, and you grinned, clambering down from the car as Stiles had parked a little too close to someone else on your side. With your bag on your shoulder and lasagne in one hand, you tried to squeeze around the door without scratching someone else’s paintwork.
Stiles’ arm was slung over your shoulder as you set off toward the building, the elevator being fully functional, and it was a refreshing change not need to take the stairs up to your place, or risk your life in a rickety elevator.
Throwing his keys down on the kitchen counter, they slid all the way across and to the other side, hitting the floor, and he grimaced when you turned to stare at him. “I’ll pick those up later.”
“Uh-huh.” The sounds of video games and music were coming from behind Noah’s door, though it wasn’t fully closed, only pushed halfway, and you hoped that was a sign that he was still in a good mood. Leaving your bag on the edge of the couch that was facing away from you, your hands rubbed together, glancing around at the environment you were still getting used to. “You should put this lasagne in now, so that it’s ready for after the study. Medium heat, leave the full-on tight.”
“Where are you going?”
“To say ‘hey’ to your brother.” Stiles’ face scrunched up, a mumble of ‘good luck’ as he picked up the tray, lifting it over his head to look in at it from underneath. Wandering toward the sounds coming from the hall, you knocked on the edge of the door, pushing it open a second later when you heard the game pause, and the music following it. Leaning on the doorframe, Noah turned to face you, brows raising slightly, and he shifted in his chair. “Hey.”
“Hi. It’s, uh, time for the study stuff, then?”
“Yeah. You okay?” He shrugged, turning back to his game and closing it off, leaning forwards from where he was sat on his bed enough to turn the console off.
“I didn’t realise we’d be doing it here. It feels more personal, somehow.” He had a large hoodie on, comfortable in his own clothes as he wore a baggy and warm outfit, the same way you often had when everything started to feel overwhelming.
“Well, this study is going to get pretty personal.”
“I know that. It’s just that right now, it feels a bit like I’m naked, y’know?” You chuckled, a momentary smile on his face flashing past, and you were glad to see it. “I just feel exposed.”
“This study is gonna’ do that, but I promise that I’ll try and make it as easy as I can. I’ll break it up, I’ll make it comfortable for you, and we’ll stop whenever you’re getting overwhelmed.”
“That’d be great, actually.” His hands rubbed together, sleeves hanging slightly down over his palms, and he looked a whole lot less terrifying right now than he did with the armour of a bike and a leather jacket. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Good, because I need you in high spirits. I brought a lasagne and I have a point to prove.”
You backed out of the room as he advanced toward you, the door closing and leaving you both standing in the hall, and he smirked down at you a little, a disbelieving expression. “You really brought that?”
“You bet I did. It’ll be ready by the time we finish.”
“Then I guess we’d better get started, huh?” He hopped over the back of the couch, settling in beside his brother, who scowled at him as his drink spilt down his shirt from the impact. Taking a seat on the other side of them both, your legs folded underneath yourself in the armchair, finding a glass of water laid out for yourself on the table, courtesy of Stiles.
They looked so different and yet so similar in this moment. You could understand how people may have confused the two of them before their styles became so radically different. In the beginning, before Noah turned to leather and a sleeve tattoo, when they both wore hoodies and band tees and had clean pale skin. With the sleeve of tattoos covered, and the pair both wearing hoodies, one with an etching across the front and the other with a faded logo from being washed one too many times,
Laying out your books, it was more of a note you’d keep to yourself, and following from that was your recorder, coated in the front pocket of your bag so as not to get crushed. Switching it on at the side, the red light flashed on to green blinking once to let you know it was active. “Can you guys do your confirmations for me while I get set up?”
“Surely can.” Stiles sat forwards, leaning down a little with his forearms braced across his knees, as opposed to Noah, who slumped back into the cushion. “Stiles Stilinski, happy to be recorded.”
“Noah Stilinski, aware of being recorded.” Stiles rolled his eyes at his brother’s dead tone, clearly not having as much fun as Stiles was, but you didn’t blame him.
“Okay, so, why don’t you guys tell me what it’s like to live together at college.” There was a beat of silence, and then a set of matching laughs from both of them, the two starting at one another. There was a look between them, one you didn’t quite understand, and it seemed like some kind of twin-telepathy communication.
“It’s, like, exactly the same as when we were in high school.”
“Uh, what?” Stiles interjected, and Noah turned to look at him. “It’s nothing like high school!”
“Yes, it is!” Noah insisted, and you smirked, picking up your water and taking a sip as the two stared in shock at one another. “We lived together in high school, we played video games, I did all the cooking and you did all the cleaning while dad was at work. The only thing that is different is that we can’t cheat from one another’s homework anymore.”
“We don’t drive to school together anymore, we’re on opposite sides of campus!”
“That so doesn’t count.” Noah scoffed, and Stiles twisted on the couch, his hand gestures much more emphasised than that of his brother’s and you watched the debate go down. “You can’t name any more than that.”
“I take that as a challenge.” Stiles’ head rolled side to side. “Our schedules don’t match up anymore, and we haven’t had our usual movie nights in almost six months now. I can’t bring Derek over because your room is right across from mine-”
“My room was across the hall from you at home. You just didn’t date in high school or have anyone to bring home.”
“Low-blow. Unlike some people, I didn’t want to traumatise my brother in high school by bringing someone home, for that.” Stiles reached out mid-sentence, swatting at his brother’s shoulder, before continuing; “Uh, let's see. Oh! We don’t talk anymore, you didn’t ride your motorbike so much at home, you used to ride in the jeep with me. It’s like a totally different world now.”
“I didn’t know you felt like that.” There was a palpable kind of feeling in the air, something between them that was sizzling with electricity, before Stiles sighed.
“It’s no big deal. The difference is just that we’re both so busy now.”
“That was really good, actually. Thanks.” The two seemed to have forgotten you were there, both flinching and turning to face you again, matching sets of honey-coloured eyes in varying shades were fixing on you again. “Speaking of what you said, though, does it ever make it hard for you guys when your class times are so different?”
“Hard to do what?” Stiles squinted at you, face set in a frown that his twin normally wore.
“Hard to hang out, talk, have that whole brotherly bond going on.” Your clarification did little for Stiles, his brows still pulled tight and frown never moving, but Noah’s face smoothed out.
“Oh.. well, I g-”
“Totally.” Noah pressed, and once again, Stiles’ head whipped around to look at his brother. “Don’t look at me like that. You basically said it, anyway. We don’t talk so much anymore. We barely know each other. You don’t even tell me about your podcast, anymore.”
“You never listened!”
“You used to tell me your problems, not broadcast them to the world with jokes and humour! I missed two episodes, and you just stopped keeping me updated on it.” The moodier twin crossed his arms over his chest, and you swallowed thickly at the environment you had unwittingly created. “I don’t know. Just feels like we used to talk a lot more.”
They both went silent, and Noah shot you a pleading look, but there was something darker behind it. It almost felt venomous, angry or defensive, as though to say ‘I told you so’ about it being more personal now that they were home. Stiles was occupying himself with pulling a loose thread on their couch cushion out and making it that much worse, distracting himself from it all. “Well, how about something a little bit lighter. Just some questions about hobbies. Stiles, what inspired you to first start a podcast?”
“Well, as you know, I never stop talking.” He smirked, Noah laughing beside him, and just like that, the awkward air between them both was completely evaporated. “I had a lot to say, I had a lot to get off of my mind. At first, it was just to get my thoughts out there. It was kind of like a recorded journey for myself, and to share with my friends from back home. But, then other people started listening. I thought it was going to be the end of my college social life, a social life that I was developing for the first time ever, and they liked it. I was just talking into a mic and getting things off of my chest, making no sense while telling stories and bitching about my homework and suddenly I had friends. It got a whole lot of followers and I made new friends,”
He paused, offering you a wink for the comment, and you beamed.
“-and I was going to parties, I met my boyfriend at a pep rally, and everything just kinda.. blossomed. The more I got out of it, the more inspired I was to keep going. I ended up making multiple videos a week, all differently themed. Sometimes movie reviews, sometimes songs, sometimes just talking. That’s how ‘Mischief Mic’ was born.”
“Alright. That was awesome.” Stiles bowed as best he could from sitting on the couch, and reached over to take a sip of his drink. “Okay, Noah, have you got any hobbies that you didn’t have in high school that you found when you came to college.”
“Not really.”
“Not even one?” You pushed, and the arms folded over his chest tightened, his gaze going to the floor, socked toes pushing into the twist cable rug. He took his glass, swigging all of it, the water draining from the glass in nervousness, and you could hear the crickets inside your mind chirping to fill the silence that had formed.
“No. Not really. I’m going to get more water, feel free to continue.”
“Uh, okay.” You pressed your pen down into your paper, drawing a line through the question on your paper as you realised you’d have no answer to that question when you listened back on the tape at a later time. “Stiles, back to you, then.”
Your next question came, and went, and Stiles was more than happy to answer them. Occasionally, Noah would answer a question, you’d be able to pin him down long enough to get a straight answer out of him, but there seemed to always be something that he needed to mess with, or fix. Almost half of your questions for him had a line drawn through, and you would have to ask them another time, and get a whole extra session in without Stiles, dragging the study out.
It was going to take you twice as long to get through it all if every time you had to ask them separately, and had to spend your time trying to force him to sit and answer. You were missing half of the information that you needed to be able to compare to Stiles’ answers, you couldn’t answer without them.
The clock ticked by, leaving you with all of your questions for Stiles answered. On a blank page, while Noah had once again been tinkering with something in the kitchen, you’d rewritten up all over the crossed out questions that would still need answers. You had doodled on the corner again, waiting for him to come and sit back down, a collection of hearts and flowers, the occasional bee or ladybug, even a couple of misshaped stars, forming a banner across the top of the page.
When he finally came to sit back down, he huffed, eyes moving to the clock as though he was waiting for this to end just as much as Stiles was, and you gave up.
“Okay, how about we just finish this up?” You had reached the end of your tether, not even bothering with the rest of the questions that were written down for him. “We got almost two hours in, that’s perfect.”
Noah sighed, something like an apology in his look as your eyes met his and he shrugged lightly. Stiles only nodded, eyes flicking up to the clock on the wall, and he was grinning when he came back. Tearing a page out of your notebook for each of them, you passed it over, blank paper sitting before them, and you searched for a pen or pencil in the bottom of your bag for each of them. Placing your pen down before Stiles and a pencil in front of Noah, they both leaned forwards, picking them up. Switching off your recorder and packing it away, you were left with the two staring at you expectantly.
“Okay, Stiles, come fill yours out in the kitchen. You can’t discuss these ones.”
“Oh, some mystery. I like that.” He picked up his paper and pencil, heading over to the kitchen counter, folding the sheet in half as he did, and you nodded. Standing from your place behind the coffee table, your bag slumped a little more from where it had been propped against your leg.
“Okay, I want you both to try self-diagnosing yourself.” Stiles gasped, a little excitement lacing it, and his pencil was already moving over the paper. Noah, however, looked a little lost, looking to you for guidance. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to use professional terms, just, describe what you think, I’ll be able to figure it out, and if I can’t, I’ll ask you about it at some point.”
He nodded, pausing, not quite as eager to get into the activity as Stiles was, before the pencil finally met the paper, and the slow scratching of graphite over paper filled the silence.
Moving away to the kitchen, you searched for plates, and a dish, laying them out on the counter before moving to the oven. A wave of hot air into your face once you pulled the door open, and when it cleared, you search for the kitchen towel you’d brought with you. Wrapping it carefully around the edges of the tray inside, you pulled it out, resting it atop the oven and closing the door back up.
Flicking off the handles, the light inside went dead, and Stiles loomed up behind you. “Smells good!” He presented a piece of paper to you, your eyes flicking over what he’d written once you’d taken it from him, and everything that he’d written about himself seemed completely accurate. It wasn’t a surprising self-evaluation, Stiles had spent almost four years studying this, just like you had, and so it was bound to be accurate and professional. Even if his handwriting looked a little bit like chicken-scratch.
Noah was still working on his, and Stiles was picking at the edges of the tinfoil, trying not to touch the glass of the casserole dish and burn himself, and as soon as he had some foil pinched between his fingers, he was pulling it back. “Wait, Stiles, watch out for the-”
“Fucking steam! Oh, my God, that’s so fucking hot!”
His hand snapped back, half unpeeled as all the steam from inside clouded in the air, and his hand was clutched to his chest. He was glaring at the pot, before moving away and running his hands underneath the cold tap at the sink, his thumb rubbing over wet skin to soothe it.
A second later, Noah was appearing, placing his paper face down on top of Stiles, which now lay on the kitchen counter. “Well, now that I’ve been scalded by pasta, I’m going to go shower and get ready.”
“M’kay.” He backed away, and Noah leaned on the counter beside you.
“Looks good, but does it taste any good, is the question.” The twin you were left with was teasing you, your eyes finding him, and you raised a brow.
“Yeah, yeah. Just get me something to serve it up with, alright?”
He smirked, pulling open the drawer behind him and searching for a serving spoon. Slicing it into pieces, you dished it up for him, a large slab on a plate, still steaming with cheese that had only just stopped bubbling. He grabbed a fork, and one for you too, waiting patiently as you served yourself, and put whatever was left into a dish for Stiles, covering it back up and leaving it to cool.
“Okay, prepare for the best lasagne of your life.”
Picking up the papers and your plate, the two of you moved back to the couch, sitting opposite one another, and you waited with excitement. Taking a piece off of his plate with the edge of his fork, he raised it, blowing cold air over it for a few moments, before taking the bite. There was a tense few moments, while he chewed, face unreadable, before he was swallowing the mouthful.
“Well?”
You couldn’t take the anticipation any longer, a smile on his face at the desperation you showed for his answer, and he gave in. “Alright, alright. This may actually be the best lasagne I have ever had.”
“Yes!” Your hands went up in the air, cheering excitedly and he laughed at your reaction, holding his hand up when you forced him to, palms slamming together in a high-five. He was tucking in again, and you reached for your plate, excited for the meal you had made, Taking a large piece on the tip of your fork, you tucked in.
The sound of Stiles’ shower was running in the background, and he was singing loudly, a song that you were certain was a TV show intro but you’d never seen the show, and there was a chance it was something from Disney Channel. Picking up the pieces of paper again, you turned Noah’s around to face you.
You’d had an expectation, you knew what you thought he was going to write down, and yet you were somehow surprised and entirely not surprised at the same time. It was what you expected but with a twist. He had confidence in what he’d written about himself he was sure of it, and while there were definitely elements that you’d disagree with, there was a lot of truth to it, and you frowned, reading it again.
Noah was watching you do so, the scrape of forks over plates as the lull in chatter came back, and you place the two pieces of paper into the front of your notebook, making sure that it was all sealed tightly away. “Is it alright?”
“It’s just not what I expected from you. But, it’s perfect.”
“That feels like a backhanded compliment.” He smiled softly, but he looked nervous, and you shook your head.
“Not at all, it just means that you have a better grasp on this whole thing than I thought you did.” It was the truth, and while you didn’t want to reveal so much to him about it all without compromising your work, but it made sense. “It just feels like with the way today went, like you weren’t really so interested in it, so I didn’t expect such an accurate self-diagnosis from you.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighed, pushing what was left of his food around the plate, and you copied him, appetite dwindling. “It’s just that when you’re here, in my apartment, and you’re asking questions about what changed and making me confront everything, it feels like real therapy. You said it was going to be casual, and this didn’t feel casual.”
“I get it. I really do, and it’s okay. I can just email you the questions you didn’t answer, and you can get around to them whenever you feel up to it, alright?” He nodded, shaking off the evening’s stress. He continued to eat, polishing off the meal that was laid out before him and settling his hands over his stomach once he was finished. There was a satisfied smile on his face, and your empty plate was soon stacking on top of his own. Leaning forwards a little, you caught Noah’s eye, and one of his brows arched up. “I can try to make it more informal, in the future.”
“That would be great, actually.”
You smiled, the consolidation made between the two of you, and your ears picked up on another sound. “Hold on, is Stiles blow-drying his hair?”
“Oh, yeah.” He laughed, head turning to the closed bathroom door where his brother resided. “He thinks it makes his hair fluffy.”
“He gels his hair, though! Why does it matter if it’s fluffy?”
“He’s insane. Don’t you know this, yet?” Noah scoffed, and your giggles carried you back into the rest of the chair as you settled back into it. The evening was still waiting to come in fully. Comfortable quiet fell between you both again, and Noah moved away to take the plates to the kitchen. He left them in the sink, water running to wash them up, before storing Stiles’ lasagne in the fridge.
The aforementioned boy moved from the bathroom to his bedroom, skidding on the floors a little and clutching the towel to his waist as he hurried, making himself late with the extra-long shower and the blowdrying of his hair. Noah was washing up the plates, leaving them to dry on the draining rack, and you took that as your cue. The night was over, that much was clear, and you’d be willing to bet that he was more than eager to get back to his alone time.
Taking your bag and double-checking that you had everything, you swung it up onto your shoulder, and made your way toward the door. Hearing the shuffling of your feet, Noah turned, drying his hands on the towel beside him. “Are you going?”
“Feels like I should. Stiles will be going soon, anyway. I’m sure you have things to do, too.”
“I don’t have anything to do, if I’m being honest.” He cringed at his own words, pulling down the rolled-up sleeves of his hoodie and making his way over to you. Undoing the catch on the door, he pulled it open, leaning against it and you linseed in the doorway.
“Since you’re not doing anything, do you wanna’ get a coffee with me?”
His eyes narrowed, just for a second, and his fingers tapped anxiously on the wood of the door. “As a study subject, or..?”
“As friends.” You confirmed, his lips a thin line for only a second, before pulling up at the sides in a smile.
“Then, yeah. I’d like that.” He looked down, sweatpants and mismatching socks on his lower half, and there was a tint on his cheeks when he looked up. “Just give me two seconds to go change, alright?”
He darted away before you had a chance to reply leaving you there with the words frozen in your throat. Stiles was clattering around behind his own door, and Noah’s door slammed shut, leaving you alone in the doorway. Your hands tapped against your thighs as you waited, bag swinging on your shoulder, and only a second later, one of the doors was opening.
To your surprise, it was Stiles, flapping the flannel on his body to shake out any creases, and he stood before you. Doing a little twirl from where he stood, he began to button it up down his front, looking somewhat smart. It was a nice black and white one, no rips or tears or stains like most of his other ones, and the black stood out prominently against the white, thick patterns with flecks of grey within it.
“How do I look, then?”
“You look great, Sti. I’ve never seen you wear anything so plain before. There’s no colour.”
“Yeah, well, this is a new flannel. It’s my best one, and the skinny jeans are Noah’s. All my skinny jeans are blue or red, it was this or khakis.” He was nervous, resisting the urge to mess with his freshly-styled hair. “The place we’re going to is kinda fancy, but I don’t feel fancy enough for it. I’m gonna’ do something stupid like drop my glass and smash it or make a joke about something dumb.”
“Haven’t you met his family before?” You teased, and he huffed, searching for his keys, and finding them under the counter where he’d never bothered to pick them up from.
“No, not really. I’ve met his mom because she comes to visit a lot, and of course, his little sister, because she’s a sophomore here. But, he has a lot of family. His extended family are coming to graduation, but this is his older sister and his dad, and his uncle, and I’ve never met them before.” His keys were tucked into his back pocket, and his phone followed, your gaze moving over him.
“You got a blazer, Stiles?”
“Uh, yeah. One that my dad made me promise to bring, I wore it to my senior prom.” He shrugged, hands smoothing over his front. “You think I should wear it?”
“Go get it, show me.” He nodded, moving back to his bedroom, and you were waiting for something with orange and blue stripes to come back out, which wouldn’t surprise you. In fact, you’d always imagined Stiles going to his senior prom in a Beetlejuice suit. Noah emerged from the other side of the hall, hangers scraping over their post in a wardrobe as Stiles searched for them. “Did Stiles go to prom in a Beetlejuice suit?”
Noah paused, rolling the edges of his hoodie up, charcoal grey skinny jeans that were only a  few shades lighter than the ones Stiles had stolen from him on his legs, and a pair of his usual scuffled boots. “What?”
He was laughing, loudly, shaking his head to hide his grin. “It’s a legitimate question! I have this mental image of it!”
“Unfortunately, he did not. My dad made us both go in three-piece formal suits. He saved up to have them custom made. Said that every man should have a smart suit.” He shrugged, crouching to start tying the laces on his shoes and Stiles reappeared. Over his shoulders was a dark black suit, crisp collar and pressed edges, and it was a beautiful piece of tailoring.
“You look good, Sti. Very smart, but casual. Like a polished version of your usual self.”
“Yeah? Good enough to meet Derek’s family?” His voice shook, and you wished you could ease him more.
“Totally. You look great.” He thanked you both, and Noah grabbed his wallet from the side, and his house keys, letting them both hang in the front pocket of an oversized hoodie.
“You ready to go?” He offered, hand on the top of the door, and Stiles’ head snapped up again from where he’d been checking his phone, presumably looking for texts from Derek.
“Where are you two going?”
“We’re getting coffee!” You beamed, and Noah nodded, stepping a little further out of the door with you.
“Oh, well, have fun. I’ll text you updates about how it goes. I might need bathroom-break pep-talk during the night.” You waved to him as you went, wishing him ‘good luck’, before the two of you were wandering down the halls. Thumbing the button for the elevator, the doors popped open, and you were stepping inside along with Noah.
“So, you wanna’ show off those new small talk skills to me, then?”
“Okay, okay. Let me think of something.” He hummed under his breath, glancing up to the top of the elevator and looking around at the posters on the walls for inspiration, and he seemed to find one. Turning his attention quickly back to you, you prepared for what he’d found. “Have you listened to any of the student bands? There’s been a lot of them growing, lately.”
“I’ve noticed that, actually.” There were several posters up around the inside of the elevator, different coloured flyers, some on shiny paper and some on smooth matte, varying fonts and designs, it was dizzying. “I haven’t, I’ve never been to see a student band. I should do that before I graduate, though. Have you?”
“I’ve been to a couple.” The door clicked open, the two of you stepping through it. Out into the setting chill of the evening that was threatening to break its way in. He chose the direction you’d be going in, heading toward the coffee shop on the side of campus that had been the first the two of you had met at when beginning the study. “Some of them are good, some of them are kinda’ average. They usually play at the bars on the edges of campus or in the places in the city, the less well-known, kinda’ alternative places. They can be fun.”
“You going out optionally to a night on the town? I’m shocked.”
“Uh, no!” He protested, grinning at you. “I’ve never been for a ‘night on the town’, and I never will. However, going to one of the few small bars around here that aren’t practically a nightclub, to listen to covers of good songs and get a pint without worrying about anyone bothering me or mistaking me for my brother, that’s nice.”
“Okay, well, maybe I’ll go to one sometime.”
“You should, I think you’d have fun.” The two of you weaved between other students, the small talk keeping up between you both as he did his best, and while it was sometimes a little stuttered and stalled, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. It wasn’t until the two of you had entered the coffee shop that he fell into tight silence again. The crowds, the rush of chatter from other groups gathered around the tables, and the friendly greetings of baristas whose chit-chat diverted to him due to his allegiance with you.
“What are you drinking? My treat.”
“Uh, just a black coffee.” He choked out, eyes flicking over all the boards, so many options up there, and you chuckled.
“Really, just a black coffee?”
“I’ve never really experimented. I just ordered whatever was the quickest and the easiest.” He confessed, already glancing back over his shoulder at the queue that was forming behind you both. “What would you recommend?”
“Hm, well, do you have a sweet tooth?” He only nodded, scratching around his cuticles on one hand and staring down at the flesh growing red, and you took his hand. Lowering it back down to his side, the hand formed a fist, flexed nervously, and you let it go, squeezing comfortingly first. Turning to the barista, she was still waiting patiently, and your eyes moved over the boards overhead. “Two mint and dark chocolate hot cocoas.”
“That sounds really good, actually.” He leaned down, mumbling the words into your ear to make sure you heard the quiet tone over the talk in the small coffee house.
“And, two croissants, too.” She rang it up on the machine, and you leaned in a little closer to her. “Do you have any of the warm and fresh ones straight from the oven?”
“We made a fresh batch about twenty minutes ago, they’re cooling. I’ll get them from the back for you.” She finished it with a wink, passing the card machine over to you once you’d produced your card from your wallet. Swiping it across the reader, you moved to the end of the line, and she moved away to begin preparing your order as someone else took over at the counter.
She was working, creating two beautifully constructed hot chocolates for you both. Placing them down on the counter before you, once they were garnished with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, she disappeared into the back room. Taking one of the ceramic plates with her, you were happy to see her bypass the glass cabinet with the older ones in, and only a moment later, she was coming back. Two fresh croissants on a plate, still warm and soft to the touch, and she handed those over as well.
Noah had been scouting for a place to sit, choosing which was the best one, and he carried both of the drinks while you carried the pastries, guiding you to the seat he’d chosen. It was tucked away in the back, a small loveseat sofa with a low sitting coffee table in front of it, and as soon as the paper cups were down on the surface of the table, he was dropping down into the seat.
“It feels like rush hour on the highway, but with coffee.” He mumbled, and you settled onto the couch beside him passing him his drink over, and he stared at it curiously. “What about the whipped cream. Do I eat that first? Scrape it off? Mix it in?”
“Any of the above.” You grinned, taking a wooden stirrer from the condiments tray in the middle and beginning to stir the cream into your hot chocolate. He placed it down, copying your actions, stirring slowly and trying not to spill any over the edges, but it was an impossible feat to achieve. Sticky droplets left over the edges of your cups and his, creating rings on the table that you had to mop up with tissues. “Okay, try it. This is one of my favourite orders here. It’s bitter because of the dark chocolate, but also sweet. Reminds me of you.”
“Now, that one is a backhanded compliment.” He muttered, taking a sip of the drink, and your lips rubbed together.
“Not everything is a backhanded statement, you know. I didn’t intend for it to be mean, it’s just the truth. You’re all dark and moody, but I can already tell you’re sweet on the inside.” You sipped your drink to finish your statement, and he filled the time where he didn’t know what else to say by pulling a chunk off of his croissant. Chewing on it idly, he settled back into the cushions, and you lifted your legs up to fold underneath yourself as you turned to face him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You’ve already asked me a lot of questions today.”
“You didn’t answer many, though. You kinda’ have to give me this one.” He scowled falsely, but nodded, licking a flake of pastry from his lower lip. “Not that I think you need it, because personally, I think you’re just fine, but why are you so scared about therapy? The idea of it, anything to do with it, it makes you so closed off. Even more than usual.”
His eyes moved over the room, nervously, before scanning both you and the table, and you put your drink down, holding open palms up to him.
“No recorder, no study. I’m just curious.”
“Okay.” He sighed shakily, and slumped back. “Well, after my mom died, my dad made me and Stiles have therapy when we started acting out. We had a therapist who came to the house, and she was great, don’t get me wrong, but I hated it. I didn’t want her to tell me how to grieve or mourn, and I didn’t want her to tell me how to move on. Stiles needed all the advice he could get, but I didn’t want it. I wanted to do it my own way. Now, the idea of therapy, brings back all those feelings of sadness and pressure and stress.”
“I’m sorry, Noah.” You reached out, rubbing a hand over his shoulder, and his gaze fell to the contact. “Genuine sympathy and sorrow, not just that thing girls do that you hate.”
“Stop hanging things I’ve said over me, I don’t remember half of them. I blackout in social situations.” He grinned, moving past the moment, and you withdrew your touch.
“You know, if it makes you feel any better, I understand the nervousness of being in a study.”
“Yeah?” He picked up the rest of his croissant, a large chunk of it being eaten, as he waited for you.
“Yeah. When I moved here, I was so nervous. I was beginning to take my course and I didn’t really have any friends, and there was a senior who needed freshmen for her study.” Noah grinned, settling in for the story and sipping his drink. “She was doing a study about the difference between kids who travelled far from home for college alone as opposed to those who were still close to home, and whether it impacted social clubs, grades, all that. To be fair, it was an awesome study.”
“It sounds like it.”
You smiled, swirling the cup in your hands to gather any loose powder that may have begun to separate and gather at the bottom. “Well, I got drawn into it. She was a senior, and she was nice. I had no friends yet, I was in a flat-share with Allison and Lydia and three other girls who were all too busy getting adjusted to college themselves. So, this senior, she invited me to a party, and then another one, and suddenly people started wanting to be my friend because I was the freshman who hung out with seniors. I figured it would all drop away when her study ended and she didn’t need me anymore, but by then the whole social hierarchy had done its thing, and there I was.”
You shrugged, and Noah was hiding a shit-eating grin behind his mug. “So, you were just a little freshman lab rat, then?”
You scoffed, your laughter mixing with his, and the two of you were left in subtle amusement. His laughter was cut short, though, brought a rapid halt when a set of legs bumped against your table on the other side, followed by two more behind them.
“Hey, girl!” One of the girls on the cheer team, a lacrosse player behind her and a girl who you recognised from your psychology class texting on her phone. “Saw you over here, wanted to know what your plans for the evening were. We’re going to do some karaoke and get some food, you wanna’ come?”
Your eyes moved to Noah, whose attention was fixed on the floor again, as though the splintering wood was of utmost interest. “Maybe another time. I think we’re good here for now.”
“Oh, you sure? I think it could be super fun, you should both come.” The invitation was now extended to you both, and you shook your head at her despite it.
“Seriously, you should go, if you want to,” Noah whispered, and when you turned back to him now, he’d dared to look up, chewing on a lower lip that would go raw, but he met your gaze.
“No, I’m sure. I’m having fun here.” You held his gaze for a second longer, before turning to her, and confirming your denial, and she smiled, promising to make plans with you soon, before she was walking away. Noah was fidgeting beside you, shuffling in his seat, and you could practically feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves. “I’m serious, Noah. I’m having fun, and I’m perfectly happy here with you, right now.”
He was trying not to grin, a smile that was being bitten back on the inside of his cheek. “Well, for the record, I’m having fun too.”
“What was that?” You cupped your ear, challenging him to repeat it, even though you had heard it perfectly, and by the look on his face, he knew the game you were playing.
“I said I’m having fun. I won’t deny it.”
“Two victories in one day, for this gal. I’m breaking down all your walls, Noah Stilinski.” You poked at his cheek, and he swatted your hand away, taking a bite from your croissant as punishment, and you tried to snatch it back from him.
“Two victories, one loss. You’re not getting this croissant back, now.”
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sepublic · 3 years
Text
Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!
         …
         SO! Onto other things first…
         WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-
         Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!
         AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-
         She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,
         Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-
         JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!
         No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!
         King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!
         A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!
         Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!
         Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!
         Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.
         I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…
         What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…
         They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-
         (Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)
         Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!
         I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!
         You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!
         Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…
         Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…
         BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-
         This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!
         What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!
         Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…
         And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?
         Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-
         WHAT AN EPISODE!
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The Legends React To: Being Handed a Baby
This involves some Pathfinder Book Lore, but its pretty minor.
Bloodhound: Was handed a baby by an overexcited fan at an event. The baby cried at their mask but started to calm down when they began speaking softly; Bloodhound figured it was because the baby recognized their voice from HoloTV. They’re secretly fond of babies and little children, so they might take a little longer to give the child back to its parent than expected, and they might have spent the rest of the event musing, a little sadly, whether or not they and Boone would have ended up with a child.
Gibraltar: Dude loves kids, though he prefers it when they can start running and playing versus when they’re tiny and breakable. Still, babies are cute, and every time he gets handed one at an event, whether it be family or Apex related, he’s ready to be the cool uncle.
Lifeline: Some Apex Exec wanted a picture of the great Lifeline holding his baby for internet points and so just sort of shoved it in her arms. She doesn’t really know what to do with babies. In theory she knows how to keep one alive, but in practice she’s not really run into many in warzones so she just kind of holds it by the torso before eventually moving it to her hip and asking how it’s day has been. Strangely, babies adore her.
Pathfinder: Immediately tries to ask the baby about its hobbies before it starts bawling because it’s being held by some weird metal hands with rubber finger pads and it feels weird. He might love the miniature friends, but they do not love him.
Wraith: She gets roped in to helping Wattson babysit for some Apex Games higher-up and was handed the baby-baby immediately upon arriving so Wattson could chase after the toddler. In short, she finds babies fascinating, with their weird little fingers and huge eyes. She likes talking to them and seeing their reactions, and wonders frequently if she might have had a kid or something before. She acts uninterested because she finds it a little embarrassing to actually like babies, but she never has objected to helping Wattson babysit.
Bangalore: She might have been the baby of her family, but the Williamses is a huge clan and she had tons of little cousins forced into her arms over the years, to the point she still isn’t even surprised if one is handed off to her, and hasn’t questioned it the few times it has happened at events. Like Gibraltar, she prefers it when the kids are old enough to cause a little trouble. Her favorite game to play with babies is peekaboo and she finds the faces they make when she blows a raspberry at them hilarious. She will take these facts to her grave.
Caustic: He holds enough sympathy to find somebody else more capable to hold it, or a decently supportive armchair to leave it in, maybe tape something shiny to the forehead to make sure no one sits on it. But this would only be applicable if anyone actually handed him a baby.
Mirage: Kids! Kids are cool, was a camp counselor that one summer. It was to pick up chicks (and maybe that one guy was kind of cute but he was still questioning that one) but kids were also super fun. Babies? Babies were confusing, babies cry. He’s the baby brother, but unlike Bangalore he didn’t have a bunch of little cousins, he just had himself, so tiny wiggly humans kind of leave him at a loss. He desperately wants a couple of his own one day, though, so he’s taking the numerous occasions fans hand him babies (and try to get him to sign them(he does not)) as a learning opportunity. Many funny faces are made. Many tiny humans have cried. His faces have gotten better since Wraith started bringing him along on her babysitting…missions? Assignments? Either way, there’s a lot less crying babies at events now.
Octane: He actually knows how to hold one because of those health classes in school that his dad and Lifeline forced him to actually go to. If someone just hands him a baby for whatever reason, he’s actually pretty chill about it and definitely doesn’t miss out on the selfie opportunity. It isn’t advisable to leave him alone, though, cause the baby’s first word is liable to be a curse word, and probably in Spanish.
Wattson: She’s always happy to see a new little face! But only one or two at a time. Beyond that babies can get overwhelming, especially if they start crying. It actually isn’t that uncommon for Wattson to just be handed a baby since she grew up with a lot of the executives and staff around the Games and, particularly after her Papa passed, took to babysitting a lot of their kids to avoid being alone. She’s thought a lot of having her own little family, like her and her Papa, except it would be nice to have someone to raise a baby with.
Crypto: Mystik did adopt him and his sister, but that didn’t mean they were exempt from helping in the orphanage. Dude knows how to change, feed, soothe, entertain, and understand babies better than a lot of parents. He doesn’t get handed babies anymore because he keeps his hands firmly in his pockets or otherwise occupied, but on the rare occasions he visits home, he inevitably has an infant cooing in his lap. He’s often thought that the first thing he wants to do whenever he can finally go back to a normal life is find someone, settle down, and adopt a couple kids.
Revenant: Ever wondered what it would sound like if a baby was slam dunked through a basketball hoop? You’ll find out if you give him a baby.
Loba: Imagine the face a cat makes after licking a lemon, and that’s about Loba’s reaction to being handed an infant. She has no idea how to hold one or what to do with it, and she’s not particularly motivated to learn. She doesn’t hate them or anything, she’ll smile and wave at them in the grocery store and is about as happy as anybody else is when you get a random baby to smile at you, but there’s too many potential tragedies associated with the things for her taste. Also, the poop.
Rampart: Will flat out ask someone why the hell they just handed her a baby. Basically a more responsible Octane, except the kid is gonna come back cussing in Hindi. Babysat for money until she was 13 and figured out giant guns were a lot more lucrative and involved a lot less spit-up.
Horizon: She’s always overjoyed! She adores babies, and babies adore her. She is the only Legend to have asked someone if she could hold their baby. She has also been known to wander off with stranger’s children  because she just gets so distracted interacting with them at both scientific and Apex oriented events, but it only caused a little scene once and after that it became, “where’s your kid?” “Horizon’s got ‘em” “Oh cool.” It helps to fill the Newton shaped void in her heart a little better than the vacuum.
Fuse: Got handed a kid a couple times on Salvo, being the cool uncle to Maggie’s nieces and nephews. Though he’s the ideal uncle for 8-12 year olds, he’s cool with babies, makes funny faces, pretends to hold a long-winded conversation for the baby’s amusement and his. Maggie always made fun of him for it in a friendly way, it’s one of the things he misses. Nobody’s handed him a baby since he left Salvo though. He’s kinda disappointed sometimes.
Valkyrie: Doesn’t really “do” babies; it’s something her and Loba agree on, though Valkyrie looks less like she licked a lemon and more like a pianist who’s been handed a cello and told to play Fur Elise; she just flat out doesn’t know what to do with them and does not care. Her mom tried to get her to babysit growing up, but she always had the tendency to vanish when the idea of responsibility reared its ugly head. If handed a baby, she will hand it to the next nearest Legend and immediately vacate the premises.
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pftones3482 · 3 years
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Sometimes Stupid
Commission for @randomfandomfan from one of their many prompts they gave me. Took forever bc of work and life and also???? Now I have a cat??? So that's fun. But this was fun to write. Read it here on AO3
Set post TLO and pre HOO (and a little bit post HOO). Under a cut for length.
~~
Contrary to popular belief, Leo Valdez was not stupid.
He was an idiot, at times – for instance, maybe running away from his seventh (fifteenth? He’d really lost track at this point) foster home wasn’t the best decision he could have made, especially given that it was the middle of summer and oh, also, hurricane season. And okay, maybe he should’ve taken more with him than a single change of clothes, a box of Ritz crackers, a pocketknife, and a water bottle that had definitely seen better days, but he was in a rush, okay?
But he wasn’t stupid.
When he ran away from his foster homes, Leo tended to stay away from people where he could. And if he had to be around them, he cleaned up, smiled brightly, “Yes ma’am”ed and “Yes’sir”ed to an obnoxious point, and lied his pants off. People were less likely to call the police on a Hispanic kid if they thought he was just a darling little angel waiting for mom at the grocery store, and the last thing he needed was the cops in his business.
Not that it hadn’t happened, of course. He’d dealt with cops of all kinds – nice cops, bad cops, black cops, white cops (WAY too many of those, in his opinion), the occasional cop who would speak Spanish with him, cops who were just there to write a report and move on with their days – cops.
He tried to stay away from them.
Which meant sticking to beaches and forests, lakes and campgrounds, middle of nowhere places with no people for miles. Leo was good at disappearing. Hiding.
But there were always times when he needed an adult. When he needed to hitchhike, or when he needed food to the point of near passing out. Once for serious medical attention. There was a system to what adults you could trust.
Never cops. You could never trust the cops, no matter what naïve white parents thought. Leo had been in cuffs enough to know that was false.
You also couldn’t usually trust priests. They meant well, sure, but they always ended up calling the authorities in the end. That, or they tried to convert Leo to Catholicism, and while one of those encounters had ended with a swiped bottle of watered-down red wine and a night that made him vow to never drink again, he wasn’t trying to contact the church.
(THAT night, Leo would say he had been stupid. He could admit that)
Homeless people were usually okay. While a lot of them were very suspicious of everyone, almost every homeless person he’d ever met would point him in the direction of food, water, free showers, free clothes, or a library (his saving grace during the heat of the summer and the cold of the winter). The times when he came across gay homeless people were when he felt safest – they especially never pressed him about his background. Ironic, really, that he felt safer with strangers on the street than his foster homes.
Moms were sometimes okay. Especially if they were Hispanic, or black, or just anything but white. They, at least, wouldn’t call the cops on him. But they were also hit or miss – sometimes they helped in way of a meal, or a new bottle of water. One mom even took him to the store and got him new socks and underwear (he had cried that night). But other moms rushed him away from their precious babies. Some moms called him ungrateful for the “space he had.”
Dads were a never. Leo never went to men if he could help it, even if they had children with them. He didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them, and that wasn’t very far.
But it was hurricane season. And he was on the coast. And it was downpouring, and he was starving, and the only people he had seen for miles were a white couple, a man and a woman, standing on the porch of a somewhat rundown shack that Leo would’ve probably thought was abandoned if he hadn’t seen them there.
The man was tall, peppered hair that was shifting more to salt, with a rough beard and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. The woman at his side was short, probably Leo’s height, with dark curly hair and vibrantly blue eyes. It was streaked with gray, but she was, admittedly, a very pretty woman. Something about her smile put Leo at ease.
He clutched his backpack tighter in his fist and stumbled over the sand towards the shack, ankles rolling uncomfortably on the wet ground. He was sure he looked atrocious, sure that the moment they spotted him, they’d shriek and cuss him out and lock the door.
But then he coughed, hard, his shoulders shaking, and the woman whipped her head around. He watched her eyes widen, watched her tug at the man’s sleeve, and then she was bolting – barefoot, Leo noticed – down the steps and over to him.
He flinched when she wrapped an arm over his shoulders, jolting out of her grip more from habit than anything else. She froze, holding both hands up and relaxing her stance. “Hey, honey. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Somewhere deep down, Leo’s brain was scoffing at the patronizing words. But on the surface, he focused on the words, and then sharpened his eyes onto the man as he approached, phone in hand. “I-I c-can’t-”
The woman looked back, down at the phone, and her shoulders stiffened. “Paul, put the phone away, please.”
Her voice held an intonation that Leo couldn’t decipher, but the man – Paul – instantly shut the phone off and pocketed it. The moment it was gone, Leo let his shoulders loosen, and he looked at the woman anxiously. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I-I just…”
“Hey.”
Her arm was more cautious this time, sliding around Leo’s shoulders with a pace that would let him move if he wanted. He didn’t, just let it happen, and then the woman was easing him over the sticky sand and up the steps of the shack, Paul close behind them. He stopped at the door, pushing back hard against the woman’s guiding grip. “I don’t want to ruin your house,” he managed.
The woman’s laugh was…well, to be perfectly honest, it made Leo feel warm. Like she could never hurt him.
Those are usually the most dangerous people, his mind tried to reason with him.
“Sweetheart, it’s just a rental cabin. Besides, I’ve had far worse than a little sand and water on my floors before.”
Before he could wonder at that sentence, she opened the door and nudged him inside. The second that Paul closed the door, the sound of the wind died down and the chill in the air evaporated. Leo realized he was shivering.
The woman’s hands were warm on his cheeks. “My name is Sally, hon. You are-?”
He usually gave a fake name, but – “Leo, ma’am.”
“Don’t you ma’am me,” she scoffed, her voice easy as she helped Leo to the couch. “I’m not that old, am I Paul?”
Paul put his hands up. “I abstain from answering.”
Sally scoffed and pressed a cool hand on Leo’s forehead. “Can I take your backpack, sweetheart?”
Something like panic flared in Leo’s chest, and Sally must have seen it, because she pulled her hand back and held it up. “I’m not moving it far, I just want Paul to dry everything out for you, okay?”
Fingers shaking, Leo shrugged off his bag – the one he’d been carrying for nearly three states – and passed it over to her. She took it like it was a priceless artifact, and handed it to Paul with more tenderness than Leo had ever seen given to an inanimate object. “I think my son might have left some clothes here while he was with us last week,” she said, voice soft. “He’s a little older than you, so some things might be big, but is it okay if we give you some of his clothes while we dry out yours?”
Leo swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Um. Yeah.”
She stood up and left with Paul, giving Leo a moment to be alone and take in the cabin around him.
It was old, but obviously well taken care of, with weathered planks of wood gracing the walls and the floor. He was in the living room, full of mismatched couches and chairs and a bookshelf stacked full of books and games. He didn’t see a TV in sight, but he wasn’t expecting to find one. He stood shakily, suddenly very aware of how wet he was getting the couch, and wrapped his arms around himself as he explored the rest of the main room.
The kitchen was small and cramped, but he could smell something full of tomatoes and spices in the oven that made his tastebuds water. He didn’t dare look for fear of getting caught, so he stepped away and into the tiny dining area. There was sand on the floor, spread thin and fine, and it was such a small thing, but it made Leo relax even more – Sally meant it when she said she didn’t care about him ruining her floors.
But she and Paul had been gone for a while, and Leo wasn’t stupid, okay? It didn’t matter how well intentioned someone was, they always thought they knew better, and if they were gone too long, it meant they were trying to decide for him. So he crept towards the hallway they’d vanished to, praying that he didn’t step on a squeaky board. Old homes always had them in the most inconvenient places.
“-not answering?” he picked up Paul’s voice saying.
“No,” Sally said, a sigh in her voice. “He did say he and Annabeth were on a date, but I didn’t expect them to be in Paris of all places. How did they even-?”
“Can you get ahold of Chiron?”
Not the police, then, Leo reasoned, unless they knew an officer by that name. He leaned a little closer.
“No – I try not to call the camp unless I need to. Phone lines and all that, you know?”
Paul huffed. “I know. And Rachel is at art camp, right?”
“Yup,” Sally said, and Leo heard a sound like a blowing raspberry. “He clearly isn’t aware of anything, Paul. He’s terrified.”
“Probably a runaway,” Paul hummed, and Leo flinched at the damning statement. “Met a couple kids like that teaching.”
He looked like a teacher. You couldn’t trust most teachers either, Leo had learned. They were just like priests. Tried their best, but they always inevitably called someone.
“What did you do? Who did you call?” Sally asked, and Leo stiffened. Here it comes, his brain taunted.
“No one,” Paul said.
Leo blinked, taking a slight step back. What?
“Kids don’t run away for no reason, Sal. Especially not kids like him. Perce taught me that. I mean, maybe in my early days of teaching, I might have called the authorities, but ever since this summer I…how could I risk that? Even before then, I mean…the stories I’ve heard from some of these kids I’ve talked to. We don’t know anything about him. If he ran away, all this way, in this weather? It was bad, love.”
Leo’s throat ached.
He’d never, the whole time he’d been in foster care, ever heard an adult admit that they were wrong to call the authorities on him. Never heard an adult take his perspective into account, especially without even knowing him. Never had an adult admit that his life could be anything other than ideal.
He took another step back and oh shit, there it was, the cursed piece of wood in every old house to ever exist. He cussed under his breath and ducked his head as Sally stepped into the hallway. He refused to look up at her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were just gone for a while a-and I thought you might be calling someone.”
No verbal response. Instead, a soft bundle of fabric was pressed into Leo’s hands. He startled, gripping onto the clothing, and looked up at Sally and Paul with wide eyes. Paul shook his head. “We’re not calling anyone, son. Not if you don’t want us to. But we do ask that you get cleaned up, before you catch pneumonia.”
Sally tilted her head towards the door across the hall. “Let me know when you’re done, I’ll toss your clothes in the dryer. Paul was just finishing up dinner when you came along. Do you like lasagna?”
Leo’s mouth watered at the thought of eating any kind of food that wasn’t stale crackers and canned tuna. “Yes ma’am.”
“What’d I say about that ma’am nonsense?” Sally scolded.
Leo ducked his head, trying to press down the tears. “Yes, miss,” he chuckled.
Sally laughed as Paul headed for the kitchen. “It’s a start, love.”
~~
Sally’s son’s clothes were soft, well loved. They smelled like sea water and lavender detergent, and though the t-shirt was a gaudy orange with letters so faded that Leo couldn’t read them, he sank into the fabric with a sigh. Sally had also passed him a pair of sweatpants, and Leo hoped that her son wouldn’t be mad if he ever found out that some random foster kid had borrowed them.
If he was anything like Sally, though, Leo had the feeling he’d like him.
His hair was still wet, but this time from a shower, and Leo couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to stand under an actual stream of hot water without people literally timing him to make sure he didn’t take too long. He stood in front of the mirror, sighing a little at how skinny he’d gotten. He’d always been small – being skinny only made him more of a punching bag for the bigger foster kids. His hair, untamed from weeks of running, hung in his eyes, and he wondered briefly if Sally might have a hair tie he could borrow.
He left the bathroom and crept into the dining room, where Sally was setting the table and Paul was pulling one of the most beautiful lasagnas he’d ever seen out of the oven.
“-texted me, said they’d be back tomorrow morning. He offered to come back sooner,” Sally was saying as Leo stood in the doorway, “but I know he and ‘beth haven’t really gotten to go on any non-monstrous dates recently.”
She blinked when she saw him standing there, and her smile softened into something warm and inviting. “Come on, hon. Paul was just getting dinner out.”
Maybe it was the malnourishment, or Paul’s cooking skills, or Leo’s exhaustion, or a combination of the three, but Leo had never tasted such good Italian food in his life. He downed one, two, three pieces and a full salad before he finally slowed down. To his relief, neither Paul nor Sally gave him any grief about how many pieces he took. Honestly, he thought he watched Paul actively make his slices bigger than theirs.
They’d clearly been talking about their son when he came in the room. This guy was in Paris, on a date with his girlfriend, and he was coming back tomorrow. Leo wondered just how rich this family was – the dad was a teacher, but Sally hadn’t said what she did, and Leo was a little afraid to ask.
When Paul brought out a pie for dessert, Leo almost cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had any dessert fancier than a stolen Ding Dong from a corner store. Paul definitely gave him a larger slice than them, and as he ate it, Sally poked at her own pie.
“Leo, we’re not going to pry,” she started, gentle. “Your story is yours, and I know how tricky it can be to share yourself and your past with new people.”
The sad smile Paul shot her didn’t go unnoticed by Leo, and he internally bristled at the thought that this wonderful mom in front of him could understand anything about how he felt, because that meant that she’d gone through shit she didn’t deserve. He said nothing, though, just nodded.
Sally eyed her pie thoughtfully, stabbing a blackberry that had escaped the crust. “But I feel like…well, I feel as though my son especially can relate to how you’re feeling, or at least some of it. If you’d be willing to wait for him to come home, maybe we can figure some things out together.”
Leo felt lost. He’d been lost a lot before, but this was the first time it was mental and not physical. “What?”
Sally looked up, seeming to realize that she’d baffled him. “I mean…”
She looked at Paul, and Leo looked between the two of them, tightening his grip on his fork. They were having a silent conversation. Leo hated when adults did that. “You mean you want to wait until I’m asleep so you can call the cops o-or foster services or-or just wait until your son gets back so he can tell me to get out.”
He shoved his chair back from the table, tears prickling at his eyes. Every time. Every time. He always got his hopes up, always thought he’d found the perfect people, people who got it, and every fucking time, he-
Hands settled on his shoulders, and he ripped away, scowling at Sally. Her eyes were sad, and Leo felt an unwelcome stab of guilt in his chest. “That is not what we were suggesting, ever, honey. I would never call foster services, first of all. They’re atrocious, especially for kids of color.”
Leo jolted back. He’d never had a white woman actively acknowledge his race so bluntly before – it was usually partnered with some demeaning comment about “his kind” of people. He eyed Sally warily.
She lowered her hands, keeping them on her hips where he could see them. “Second, I’d never call the police either. You’re not a problem, and my son has had enough unfortunate encounters with them for me to…distrust them severely, to say the least.”
Her son had-?
“I just…we know a place. Where you would genuinely be safe, hon. No foster homes, no cops, with people who get it.”
She was lying. She had to be lying, no matter what Leo’s heart said. But she wasn’t going to let this go, and he knew it. So he sighed, fidgeted with his fingers. He wished he had something to build. “Okay. I’ll wait for your son to get home.”
Sally relaxed, and Leo gave her a thin smile.
He helped her and Paul clean up the kitchen, put away the leftover lasagna. Sat with them and did a puzzle, played a game of Clue with them. Fixed their radio for them, much to their surprise, and then watched with a small smile on his face as Paul and Sally danced around the living room together. They tried to get him to join, but he’d never been much of a dancer, so he declined.
They bid him goodnight around 11, and he shut the door of their son’s room, let the hours tick on.
At three am, he got up, changed back into his own clothes, left the borrowed ones folded neatly on the foot of the bed. He took a flashlight from the bedside table and slid it into his backpack, stepped out of the bedroom and avoided the squeaky floorboard.
The tool kit from fixing the radio was still on the coffee table, and he picked it up with only the slightest feelings of guilt. Went through the cabinets and pulled out sleeves of crackers, a box of granola, eyed the leftover lasagna with a sad gaze. He found a roll of toilet paper under the sink, a bottle of hand sanitizer in a junk drawer.
He paused by the game of Clue, left out on the table from their match, and let his fingers trace over it sadly. His gut screamed at him to leave. His heart screamed at him to stay. He wasn’t stupid.
Leo had always trusted his gut.
He pocketed the candlestick piece and turned for the door, flinching the second his eyes landed on Sally.
Her hair was done up in a braid, her pajamas wrinkled, and the moon shining through the window reflected the sadness in her eyes. Leo opened his mouth, but couldn’t find it in him to speak – the lump was back.
She stepped forward and he shut his eyes, expecting a lecture. Instead, her hand cupped his cheek. Her other hand pressed into his, and he gasped as he felt the telltale touch of money in his fingers. He looked down at the wad of cash – he couldn’t see how much it was, but he knew that he didn’t deserve it. He looked up at her, panicking. “I can’t-”
“Stay, I know,” she whispered, and that wasn’t what he’d been planning to say, and he knew that she knew that. “I understand, Leo. I understand, sweetie.”
The sob slipped out before he could stop it, and Sally’s eyes softened. She bent at the hip, pressing a soft kiss to his curls. “When you end up meeting my son,” she murmured, “come visit, okay?”
Leo had no idea what that meant, but he nodded, if only to appease her. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.
She squeezed his shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for, honey. Be safe.”
Sally watched him go, watched him shut the door behind him, and he looked down at the money in his hands with a choked feeling in his chest. It was more than he’d held in his entire life. He couldn’t take it, but he knew she’d be upset if he didn’t. And if there was one thing Leo refused to do, it was make Sally more upset than he already had.
So he pocketed it and, with an aching heart, stepped off the porch of the cabin. The storm from earlier had died down, and, fingers tight on his backpack straps, he started making his way up the beach.
~~
Percy was bouncing up and down at the entrance to Camp Half Blood, fingers curled around Annabeth’s hand. “Do I look okay?” he asked for probably the thousandth time that morning.
Piper rolled her eyes. “Percy, it’s your mom. She doesn’t care what you look like.”
Percy shot her a mock glare. “I haven’t seen her in over a year, McClean, sue me.”
“You look fine, Perce,” Annabeth laughed, kissing his cheek. “She’s gonna mostly care that you’re alive.”
“Okay but this tattoo-”
“Sorry, you vanished on me for over a year, crossed the globe, and you got a TATTOO?” came a very scolding, very obviously Mom Voice, and Leo snickered, turning to see who was about to absolutely whoop Percy’s ass.
And he stumbled on his own feet, lips parting as Sally (Sally Jackson, his unhelpful brain mocked) appeared at the top of the hill. Her hair was a little grayer than it had been when Leo met her, her hips a little wider, but her smile was the same, her laugh as Percy launched himself at her the same peal of delight Leo remembered on his toughest nights, and when she caught his eye over Percy’s shoulder, her smile only widened.
Okay, so sometimes Leo Valdez was kind of stupid.
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