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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Where There’s a Whill, There’s a Windu

Context: original post, chrono

(Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka) and have been officially adopted by Anakin.)

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“You’re attached.”

“You’re just now noticing?”

Master Windu eyes him for a few long moments, and then joins him on the ground. Anakin can’t help but smirk. There’s something gratifying about having respect from the man, in this life.

“The other members of the council are concerned.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I am, but for other reasons,” Windu says.

Anakin doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t even respond for a long minute. He just looks out over the Room of a Thousand Fountains, spread out below them like hundreds of jungles pieced together in a jigsaw of flora. It’s been his favorite room in the Temple since he was a child, and it’s always overwhelming.

“Most of them have accepted that you adopted them because of Mandalorian customs, and that you stayed where you were due to the will of the Force,” Windu continues. “But they are… uncomfortable with how blatantly your attachments show.”

“Mandalorians are loud and refuse shame. It rubbed off.”

“You said you would kill for these children.”

“I’m their father. That’s kind of expected.”

Windu’s expression is tired. A little tired of stress, but mostly tired of Anakin’s shit. “You know what I’m trying to get at.”

“Do I?”

“Skywalker.”

“No, I’m serious. I need you to spell this out. I’ve had a million slightly-contradicting lectures on this topic, and I’ve been told pretty clearly that I misinterpreted a solid half of them. If you want a constructive conversation, you can’t be vague. I’m thirty-three years old and a father of two, Master Windu, so yes, I’m attached. What you mean by that word is going to change where this conversation goes.”

It’s gratifying to see the Master actually think it over.

“Ylliben’s tattoos have been causing the most recent stir,” Windu finally says. “They nearly all relate to family, whether new or old, and the symbolism is concerning to those who are already upset about the Mandalorian upbringing. They worry that he’ll remain too tied to people he grew up with, and unable to maintain neutrality in future diplomatic ventures, or at risk of a fall if one of the people he’s seen fit to memorialize is injured or killed. The assume a similar state of mind may be applicable to your daughter and yourself, especially given the off-color jokes about how possessive your children are about each other.”

“They’re worried about emotional immaturity,” Anakin summarizes. He offers a wan, unimpressed grin. “They do realize he’s fourteen, right? Nobody’s emotionally stable at fourteen. The hormones are out of whack.”

“I’m aware,” Windu grinds out. “And I’m aware that your histories, of war and all such things, make your ties much stronger, but you can see why the Council worries, especially those who are wary of the memories your children carry but won’t explain. I’m the only one you’ve told, Skywalker.”

“Plo and Depa know.”

“Plo and Depa aren’t on the council.”

“Yet.”

“Skywalker.”

He relents. “It’s not about Mandalore, Master Windu. It’s about Tatooine.”

Windu lets that sit for a few moments, and then sighs. “I don’t know enough about Tatooine to parse that.”

“Shmi and I are former slaves,” Anakin says, as bluntly as he can. “I was freed at nine, she at eleven, and for all that we are free, we’re not freeborn. We were born slaves, and raised slaves, and we were freed too late to forget that life. The way we think is always going to be affected by the way we grew up. That applies to all sentients, more or less, but it’s… the slave mentality is completely at odds with Jedi teachings, because Jedi teachings can only be taught in a safe environment.”

Windu nods slowly, and says, “That does make sense, but it’s… forgive me, but that’s why we don’t normally take children older than four.”

“From the perspective of teaching cultural values, that makes sense,” Anakin allows. “Teaching a Jedi child that’s cared for with communal resources that they do not need material things to be happy is fine; trying to convince a slave child of the same, someone who grew up being told they do not deserve material things, and that their owner can take anything at any time, including family? I lived that life, trying to adjust to ascetic Jedi values that coincided poorly with slave rules. I know exactly how poorly that transition can go when the person caring for the child doesn’t know how to handle the points of conflict.”

“Do you regret joining the Jedi?” Windu asks.

Anakin shakes his head. “My Jedi master, bless him, cared, and tried very hard, but he wasn’t ready to handle a kid like me and in hindsight, I know that. He needed grief counseling, and I needed therapy, and neither of us was getting it. I don’t… I don’t believe anyone in the Temple would have known how to handle a kid like me.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

“I was meant to be a Jedi,” Anakin says, as firmly as he can without getting unnecessarily bitchy about it. “My struggles with the Code aside, I was meant to be here. But the Temple doesn’t have any resources for children who come older, and I think… I think you do need that.”

“You just outlined why a child can’t follow the Code if they come from a different enough background,” Windu says.

Anakin shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I think a kid like me can learn to be a Jedi, if a little unconventional, if they’re taught correctly. The desperation to cling to anyone and anything you have can be unlearned. It takes time and effort, but it’s possible. Soka and Ben are good at balancing Tatooine care with Jedi control. If you talk to Ben, you get an entire philosophical breakdown about it, but I’m more concerned with the child psychology, because that’s what could have broken me.”

Windu frowns. “You’re building up to something.”

“I think the Jedi need programs for children found older who can’t become full Jedi,” Anakin asserts. “Even those who cannot reconcile what they absorbed growing up with the Code and Jedi tradition… they, we, need guidance. The Council tried to reject me for being too old, and now that I’m grown I understand why, but… Master Windu, what do you think would have happened to me if I hadn’t had my Master to fight for me, and had been turned away?”

“We’d have looked into placing you back with your mother and, upon finding out that she was still enslaved, secured her freedom,” Master Windu says. “Qui-Gon Jinn had taken responsibility for you, and thus you were a ward of the Temple until such a time as you were safe again. It would have been cruel to keep you from your mother if we were not to raise you a Jedi, and crueler still to allow you to return to slavery.”

“And you think I’d have been safe with her?” Anakin asks. He needs Master Windu to understand this. “You think that would have ended well?”

“You don’t?”

“Ventress,” Anakin says. “Maul. Aurra Sing, even.”

Windu considers that. He looks across the grand, green room of the garden, and finally speaks. “You think you’d have been found and corrupted by a Sith.”

“I’d already helped Naboo win a battle. I was a powerful child with no support system in this respect, eager to please,” Anakin says. “Ventress and Maul both got twisted into Sith Apprentices. Aurra Sing was just a bounty hunter, but… even if the Jedi had never found me, and the Sith remained unaware, do you think I’d have ended up better than Sing? Or would the pressures of slavery have led to my Fall anyway, eventually slaughtering my owner, the Hutts, the entire system of Tatooine’s hells?”

Windu rubs a hand over his forehead. “I understand what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not just me,” Anakin says, as carefully as he can. “Even without the Sith, there are plenty of Force-Sensitive children in terrible situations that are liable to Fall just because of how power is wielded by those at the bottom. Refusing to take on students who are already at risk… the Jedi are meant to monitor Force users to prevent Sith and other dark-aligned people from harming the galaxy. It’s one of our primary duties. If the Jedi are allowing darksiders to rise just because of an age limit…”

“I get it,” Windu says, just a little aggressive. “I understand. Give me a minute.”

Anakin tries to wait. He’s older now, he can do that. He can be patient.

He tries to convince himself that it’s true.

“You have a point,” Master Windu finally allows. “And with the knowledge that the Sith are out there, still, it’s a more salient point than most would think. The EduCorps already has a subdivision for teaching meditative techniques to low-level force users who need to learn shielding but aren’t sensitive enough to be Jedi, or are just too old, but I see your point about encouraging a program for powerful Force-Sensitives that aren’t discovered early enough to integrate into the community in full.”

“And a more comprehensive Search pattern for the Outer Rim?” Anakin suggests. He shrugs at the look he gets. “What? You’ve seen my midicount. I was on Tatooine for almost a decade, and the only reason anyone found me was that Qui-Gon had to crash a ship in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Force led him to me, given all the coincidences, but that’s still a solid nine years that nobody did, despite how I apparently ‘shine like the sun’ or whatever.”

“Humble.”

“The last time I took a midichlorian test on a portable counter, it literally broke the device. That’s not arrogance, that’s just absurd.”

Windu looks exhausted by the comment. Anakin can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.

“What about Jedha?” Anakin suggests instead. “Jedi find the kids, but if they’re too old to be Jedi, we could coordinate with one of the temples at Jedha to see about having them raised in the traditions of the Whills? They’re a little less orthodox, aren’t they?”

“In some respects,” Master Windu says. “More constrained in others, but… it’s a possibility. Most of the overlooked children, yourself included, are from parts of the Outer Rim that aren’t part of the Republic, Skywalker.”

Anakin shrugs. “And many of them would have been happy to be found and collected by a Jedi, even if they couldn’t become Jedi. Not the Dathomiri, since they’ve got their own thing going on, but… from what I know about Ventress, she actually did have a Jedi Master before the situation on Rattatak became… what’s the word… untenable? He died and she was left alone, and she’d been a slave already and it just… did not end well for her. But that was a planet overrun by pirates and warlords, and would have been approved as a planet the Jedi could help without it being a weird colonialism thing… if the Senate weren’t made up of cheapskates, at least.”

“Skywalker.”

“My name isn’t actually a reprimand, you know.”

“You’re not supposed to just say that,” Windu groans, running a hand over his face. “The Senate’s choice in funding is not optimal, but insulting them in that way, even in private—”

“They’re assholes,” Anakin says, and doesn’t let his humor show. “Except my late wife, but she’s not part of the Senate in this time, so I feel no shame in accusing the entire shitshow of being cheapskates.”

Windu looks about ready to push him off the ledge.

“You’re never allowed to go on diplomatic missions, are you?” Windu mutters.

“Unless it’s to Mandalore,” Anakin clarifies. “Also, never send me to Tatooine. Ever. Please. I kriffing hate that planet.”

“I’m going to assume you have plans to kill a Hutt if we ever send you to—”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Windu sighs. “I’ll discuss this with the Council, see how they feel about reaching out to Jedha for your suggestion regarding the Whills.”

“And you’ll tell them not to worry about my kids?”

“Skywalker, they are never going to stop worrying about your family,” Windu tells him.

“That’s fair.”

#Anakin Skywalker #Mace Windu #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #de aging #Jedha #Jedi #Phoenix Posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 3 years

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The Eggfam Sitcom Pitch

The Parent:

Dr Ivo Robotnik | Eggman - evil villain supreme and creator of about one-shit billion robot children. The robots that have more sentience consider him their dad and are very protective of him despite his varying levels of niceness to them. He does have a soft spot for them, whether or not he shows it, though he mainly focuses on capturing Sonic the Hedgehog, local mobian hero.

The Children:

Metal Sonic - insists he is the oldest because he was built first, even though he’s mentally a teenager and we’re pretty sure Coconuts was created first anyway, but we don’t like to argue with him. He’s partially nonverbal, very stubborn, and competitive as hell. The only one Bokkun listens to, somehow, as well as the only one not unnerved in the slightest by Tails Doll. I think his inner narration should be heard throughout the show like Scrubs.

Scratch and Grounder - twin robots, designed respectively after a chicken and a god-only-knows. Scratch is the more take-charge of the two while Grounder is the more dim-witted. They argue all the time with each other and with everyone else. Because they never get any reactions from Metal Sonic, they believe that they don’t bother him. They do. Very much.

Coconuts - small little angry monkey, perpetual disappointment of the family. You know Garry/Jerry from Parks and Rec? That’s his role in the show. He’s mentally the oldest/most responsible and also the most frustrated due to the aforementioned JerryMandering. The focus of the most of Bokkun’s pranks.

Metal Knuckles - more of a quiet loner than the others, and unlike the rest, has the ability to think before they act. They’re not as concerned with getting Eggman’s approval, instead just trying to do their job as best they can. Due to these traits, they’re the least likely to get pulled in wacky shenanigans. They still will, just not as often as everyone else. They use they/them pronouns now because I said so.

Decoe and Bocoe - two humanoid bodyguard robots. Of the pair, Decoe is smarter, though they both have a lot of ignorance in regards to social smarts. Both of them are clumsy but friendly, and a constant annoyance to Metal Sonic.

Bokkun - the ultimate “spoiled youngest child” archetype. Bokkun has the mentality of a 6-8yo in the most annoying way possible. She is a messenger robot mainly but tends to end her messages by blowing something up. She also is obsessed with sweets and pranks and constantly teases the other bots to the point where they keep trying to fight her (with the exception of Metal Sonic, as the two of them seem to tolerate each other). However, they can also be a HUGE crybaby and have quite the temper. She uses she/they pronouns now because I said so.

Orbot and Cubot - another pair of robots with a very clear smart/dumb dichotomy. Orbot is much more calm and collected, while Cubot is quite random and often malfunctions. The two of them, unlike the other bots, don’t have a sibling dynamic and instead have more of an “obliviously blissful married couple” vibe. So they’re less siblings of Metal Sonic and his squad and more the weird uncles who somehow get into just as much chaos.

Tails Doll - nobody is sure what Tails Doll is or where it came from or what it can do. At this point we’re not even sure if Robotnik created it. Tails Doll never speaks, only stares into the middle-distance. If you look directly at it, you will either hear pure white noise or very ominous music. We do not know how it can fly or operate, especially since we don’t think it has any mechanics inside. It does what it wants and nobody can stop it. Its pronouns are unknown to us mere mortals so you can just call them by anything.

Belle - the youngest of the Robotnik fam. She was built during Eggman’s “Mr Tinkerer” phase, and thus is very sweet, polite and gentle, with a disposition towards goodness, making her a huge outcast among the Robotnik Lab. Most of the time she’s trying to live with the Sonic Squad™ but due to shenanigans she often ends up kidnapped and thus stuck in a room with her siblings who try to teach her how to behave evilly before these stupid hedgehogs can irreversibly correct her moral code. She’s got the awkward, confused new kid vibe.

The Disowned Children:

Breezie - one of Eggman’s oldest bots, and the first one who permanently rebelled. She was an assassin-bot, but now she runs a talkshow and has a pretty stable life with Junior. The two of them stay out of everyone’s crap most of the time, minding their own business, but sometimes they’ll stop over for holidays because they love drama and wanna see what happens.

Junior - another one of Eggman’s “lost” bots, he was designed to be Eggman’s son, only to decide that Sonic was cooler. He’s now a construction worker helping to repair damage that is mostly caused by his creator. He lives with Breezie and while they stay out of everyone’s way most of the time, the two of them are suckers for drama so they’ll show up every now and again just to throw Eggman off his rhythm.

E123 OMEGA - the most dangerous of Eggman’s lost bots, Omega will stop at nothing short of destroying every Robotnik creation to prove that he is superior. He lives with Team Dark, the weird cousins who are tentatively on Sonic’s side, though he will not hesitate to murder anything in front of his eyes. Everyone loves him.

and finally...... the new boyfriend:

Dr Starline - shows up to help Eggman create a Zombot virus and immediately attracts the ire of all of the lab children despite not really doing anything to them. They don’t like that Eggman is paying attention to someone else and will stop at nothing to bring him down. And probably kill him.

tell me you wouldnt watch this show. it’d be the funniest thing

#sonic the hedgehog #ivo robotnik #dr eggman #metal sonic #belle the tinkerer #eggfam #mine

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vannybarber · 3 years

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The Prenup: Final Chapter

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

You lied.

You didn't come back the day after. Or the next day. In fact, you stayed at the hotel for almost a week. You didn't stay in the same clothes of course. You went out to buy everything you needed. Clothes, hygiene products, prenatal vitamins. You were the saddest and most ridiculous thing to walk this earth.

Lisa and Scott eventually came over with your permission of course. You couldn't say no to them. You weren't upset with them.

"How've you been, sweetie?" They both look for your answer, trying to read your face.

"To tell you the truth, I actually feel like an asshole. I honestly realize how immature I was. Chris definitely was, but I was stooping to that level myself. But I won't admit to him just yet. I want him to recognize how immature he was too."

It was crazy to even hear it from your own mouth. But you had time to think it over. You recognized how stupid you looked living in a hotel because you couldn't put your immaturity aside.

"Well this might be a shock to you, but I had a talk with him also and it might've did something." You make eye contact with her and your eyebrows jump. Indeed, you were surprised. She continues.

"I know you guys will be able to resolve this. But you need to try. You've have been together too long to let this get in between you two. I think he finally understands." She sets her hand on yours, which was placed in your lap.

He finally understood? You had to see this for yourself. You hoped to everything that she was right. You actually wanted to fix this and he needed to be on board and feel the same way.

It occurred to you after some time that his points were actually valid. It was just the way he came across is all. You were in your own feelings and took it really personal, which was understandable, but you got stubborn. Even though he got a prenup for his own reasons, you felt as if he didn't love you as much as you love him.

This could all be fixed, but he needed to set some boundaries with Megan. He had no choice. Wait till she finds out about the baby. Evidently none of the other Evans' knew about the baby because it was never brought up. You secretly thank Chris for keeping that between you guys, even though he was most likely still upset that you weren't gonna tell him about the baby right away.

You both are grown ass adults and you're having a child together. This bullshit needed to end.

"Oh my gosh this is great !! All my shit talking did some good." Lisa clears her throat at him. "Along with Ma's great advice of course." You just laugh. You loved your family.

"I think I'm ready to see him. Scratch that. I am ready to see him. I want my fianceé back." You smile and grasp your hands together. You don't think you've ever seen them smile so hard.

"Oh yeah we know you're pregnant." You stop smiling and stare at Scott like you've been caught in the cookie jar. "You know Chris can't keep his big mouth shut." Well that's a Gemini for you.

"Now its really important that you solve this. You're bringing another life into the world!" Lisa exclaims. "Plus I'm gonna have another grandbaby!!"

You giggle and shake your head. "Well we need to head over there right now then!"

Little did you know Chris was on the exact same page as you. Down to every line and every word.

He has always been indecisive and this situation really forced him to take some responsibility and rethink his behavior. You had all the reason to feel the way you did, his intentions clearly being missed by you. Whatever they even were.

He also decided that he was going to set Megan straight about his personal life and respecting you. You were his future wife. And now that you're bringing a baby into the world, she definitely needed to be put in check. He can't even believe how he allowed her to disrespect you like this.

Now he only hoped that you'd want to sort this out and forgive him. He needed you no matter what he said. He did make up excuses because your relationship was too good to be true. He's never had a connection like this before. He never allowed it, but clearly it was for a reason because it give you a chance to come in his life and completely change it for the better.

When he had gotten home from visiting you, his feelings were all over the place. Upset that you didn't come back with him and guilty for making you feel the way you did. He just felt like he was doing the right thing because Megan told him to. Deep down inside, he really didn't even want to get the stupid prenup anyway.

"So where's Y/N? Is she okay?" Shanna asked for everyone. They all expected you to come back too. They didn't know you were this stubborn.

"She's alright. She said she wasn't ready to come back just yet. Which I completely understand. But I feel like a failed once again." He slumps on the couch and lies back. "I don't deserve her at all."

"Now Chris, you know what you have. And what you have is good. Better than anything you had before. You two were made for each other. You're a hard head and I know you're not giving up this easily" Lisa says to him, taking a seat to his right.

"You know she's pregnant." He really shouldn't have said that and he knows it, but he can't keep a secret to save his own life. Everyone in the room gasps. "I found the tests in the bathroom. If I didn't go in there and discover them myself, she wasn't planning on telling me yet."

"Well she probably wanted to fix this before adding more on top of it." Scott adds. And he was absolutely correct.

"Well I'm happy for you! But I you still have this going on." Lisa's voice goes from excited to monotone. She's super happy, but she wished this could have been evented at a much better time.

"Well this could've made things better...or worse." Chris throws his NASA cap on the couch angrily.

Carly speaks up.

"You and Scott should go visit her. I doubt she'll turn it down."

"Yeah Ma. We should see where her heads at. Maybe her mind will change with our advice" Scott agrees. He loves you as a sister. Anything threatening that would have to be put to death immediately.

"Guys, I don't know about that. She seemed pretty definite on how she felt." Chris didn't want to make it worse than what it was, but he always found a way to do that anyway.

"Chris come on" Scott drags out. "We have to try."

"Y/N is a smart girl. She knows what she needs to do and it will come to her. I know it'll work out. And when it does, you'll realize your love is inevitable." Lisa smiles knowing she is absolutely right.

Now she just waits for it all to fall in place.

You were currently outside in the driveway of your house. You drove back there in your car with Lisa and Scott behind you. When you arrived, you hopped in her car to discuss how this was going to go.

Looking at the property, you admit missed your place, but you allowed your infantilism to get in the way.

"Okay he's in there, but he doesn't know you're coming back." Scott speaks lowly from the back seat.

"Wait you didn't tell him?" You snap around mystified. Why did they not tell him?

"Because we wanted it to be a surprise. Well I wanted it to be a surprise." He corrects himself when Lisa throws him a look through the rear view mirror.

"Well um okay. Then this just has to play out itself. Hopefully he's happy to see me..?" You were unsure yourself. The little intimate moment you had before he left couldn't dictate how he'd feel now.

"I'm positive he is, but you won't know unless you get up in there. Go ahead! We'll get your stuff," Lisa encourages. You think she's more excited than anyone. You thank her with a kiss on the cheek and high five Scott then head out of the car. You walk up the driveway to the front door. You didn't get the key out your bag so you rang the doorbell.

A few moments, the door is jerked open. You automatically know he didn't even look through the peephole before he opened the door. He needs to stop doing that.

You appear in his vision and he pauses.

"Y/N? Baby?" Incredulity is all in his voice.

"Yes, that is my name." You giggle. "Can I come in?"

"Uh of course! You live here, ya know." He steps back so you can walk inside. Walking through the threshold, you look around the house as if it was foreign to you. For whatever reason, you expected some dramatic changes. One thing that didn't change is his shoes in the middle of the floor. His bad habit.

"Chris what did I say about your shoes in the walkway?" You scold him and move them to the corner with his others. You can't count how many times you've almost fell face first because of his shoes in the way and truthfully, you not watching where you're going.

"Sorry I forget a lot" he says sheepishly with a tiny smile on his face stopping behind you. This makes your corners turn up as well.

You stand facing him and him facing you. Neither of you say anything. You can't tell if it is because you don't know what to say or that you just really missed each other's faces. Before you do speak, Lisa and Scott are inside with your things.

"Oh guys just put that stuff on the couch. Thank you again!" You point to the sofa, absentmindedly moving closer to Chris.

"We need to talk." Turning back to him, you nod. You remember why you're here in the first place. You needed to put an end to this.

"Right. Patio?" You always go out there to have conversations or just to chill with each other. He nods his head and turns to his family.

"We're gonna go outside and talk for a bit. Okay?"

"Oh yes take all the time you need," Lisa exclaims, shooing you both off. Scott is grinning himself. You just smile and walk to the back door onto the patio. Chris follows quickly behind.

Once you both get outside, you sit down. You wouldn't say it was awkward, but there was definitely some tension. You decide to break it.

"I'm really sorry, Chris."

"Baby I'm so sorry."

Guess he wanted to as well. You were about to talk, but he spoke up first.

"I want to apologize first. I was completely wrong here. I was being an asshole and I deserved everything you said to me. And everything Scott said to me as well." He rolls his eyes at that part. You could only imagine the dragging Scott was giving him. "I allowed Megan to disrespect you and that was a dick move. No one should allow their partner to be treated like that. You're were going to my wife and I stooped that low. I'm truly sorry." He searches in your eyes for something to let him know that you forgave him, knew that he was really sorry at least.

You look away about to let the flood come like Noah and the Arc. You've been waiting to hear that for a while and you knew he meant every word. But now it was your turn. Clearing your throat and wiping your eyes, you speak up.

"This isn't completely your fault, baby." You take his hands in yours. "I am also guilty as well. I acted so immature and didn't even truly try to resolve this because I wanted to victimize myself the whole time. Although you were acting like a huge dick, I still played a part. I am so sorry for not planning on telling you about the baby. That was unfair of me. I know that you love me and that I am important to you, so if you still want me to sign the prenup, I'll do it."

Hearing the words come from your mouth surprised you both. He didn't think you'd ever give in and you sure as hell were making sure you wouldn't. But here you are agreeing to it because you love him that much and wanted to make him happy. Your relationship would work so it would never come to be used. You had strong faith in that.

"That's another thing." He shakes his head and you're now confused. "I don't want you to sign a prenup. We're not doing that. I already plan on talking to Megan about it. And I'm going to address her on knowing her place working for me. Since you know that I love you, so fucking much, I don't need to worry about money. Nor a divorce. Like Ma said, we were made for each other and I'll be damned if I let you get away from me."

"So no prenup?" You needed to hear it again.

"No prenup, love." He grins at you, squeezing your hands. You pull from his grip and jump up busting out random dance moves. His mouth is ajar.

"No prenup! Ain't signing no prenup! Lalalalalaaaaa! No prenup!" After your little dance number, you sit back down with no shame. You needed that.

"I'm glad that you finally came to your senses, Christopher. Your mother taught you well" you say in a pompous manner. He just can't help but laugh. You truly were something else.

"We have a little one coming soon and we have to be out best selves for them. Pinky promise each other that we never ever argue and not fix it in a matter of 25 minutes ever again?" He holds out his pinky finger waiting for yours.

"I promise." You wrap yours around his and grin. "So we're good?"

"Well there is one more thing." He stands up and reaches in his pocket. He pulls out your engagement ring and gets on one knee. Just when you had no tears left to cry.

"Y/N, baby, will you be my fianceé again?" You laugh breathlessly and nod your head.

"Yes, you meatball!" He slips the ring back on your finger and you jump in his arms. Almost knocking him over, he grabs your face and kisses you. You wasted zero time kissing him back because you needed it. It had been so long.

Finally pulling away and balancing your breaths like you just ran a 5k, you both make eye contact and burst out into laughter.

"Come on. Let's go tell them." He grabs your hands and you rush inside the house. Heading into the living room you see them both watching with anticipation.

"So?" Scott speaks and they both stand up.

"Guess who's getting married ?!"

HELP-😌 im so proud of myself. i decided to end this with a nice fluff. it was well deserved. i read you guy's comments and it influenced how i wrote it. some of you mentioned immaturity in y/n and that was really valid. and the point about the prenup making sense.

thank you so much for reading. i am honestly so grateful that you guys liked it. i didn't expect it to blow up like it did. im crying now so bye ✌🏽🤧❤

tags:

@mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessycatth @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @dauntless2022 @allboutdatmarvel @ineedpineapple @illyrianprincess @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @marianas-studyblr @obliviatevamps @thevelvetseries @coffeebooksandfandom @shamelessfangirl-3 @quietmyfearswith @kissme-hs @lvgllre @arabescapr @careless-intuition @lady-x-red @donutloverxo @princess-evans-addict

#cevans #chris evans #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #captain america #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

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firelxdykatara · 4 years

Note

ppl love to forget that katara: 1. has her own taste, 2. developed around aang, he needed her for his development and vice versa, 3. ZUTARA IS SHIP BETWEEN AN OPPRESOR X OPPRESSED!!! Ignoring all of the development they had with their respective partners and the trauma Zuko caused Katara!!

In the infamous words of one Luke Skywalker: amazing. every word of what you just said was wrong.

It’s actually kind of ironic that you bring up Katara’s taste, since, throughout the show, we have examples of the guys she likes, to greater or lesser extents in canon--Jet (explicit romantic feelings on her part, word of god that jet was her first kiss--a kiss that would have been consensual, incidentally, something you should keep in mind for later) and Haru (she denies the crush, but that could just as easily have been because of the abomination he’d been growing on his lip rather than denying those feelings ever existed), both of whom have much more in common (in terms of both emotional and physical maturity, and physical appearance) with Zuko than either of them has with Aang.

Zuko’s book 3 hairstyle is almost exactly reminiscent of Jet’s, even, if not quite as floofy.

(This is probably in part because of Jet’s function as a foil of Zuko within the narrative, particularly given their book 2 encounters, which I think just further solidifies my point that, were it not for extenuating circumstances [like the fact that Zuko was introduced as an enemy and they had significant obstacles to hurdle before they could be friends], Zuko would have been exactly Katara’s type. Had they met under different circumstances, she could have been the girl he went on a date with in Ba Sing Se. Just something to think about.)

So, yes, we’ve established that Katara has her own taste. Her tastes seem to be boys with great hair who are taller than her, the same age or older, and of a similar maturity level.

Aang falls short (heh, short) on all counts. So it isn’t Katara’s taste in boys that led her to be interested in him. Hm!

Next, you claim that Katara ‘developed around Aang’--that she was necessary for his development, and that he was necessary for hers.

Let’s take a moment to examine that, shall we?

I will absolutely grant you that Katara was necessary for Aang’s development--only to a point, of course, but we’ll get to that later--but was he really necessary for Katara‘s growth? I suppose I could grant you this on a generous technicality--he did, after all, provide her with the means to finally leave the South Pole and find a waterbending master to teach her (although she wound up largely self-taught anyway). But that had nothing to do with his relationship to Katara and everything to do with the structure of the plot--Katara and Sokka find Aang (and he never would have gotten out of that iceberg without Katara’s own righteous anger, so even that leads back to her own power), and then they go on a quest to find teachers for the Chosen One and save the world.

The story could not have begun without first finding Aang and then providing means for the other main characters to travel with him (or, in Zuko’s case, chase him), but this has nothing at all to do with Aang’s relationship to Katara. Aang was not a mover in Katara’s developmental arc--if anything, he acted as an obstacle more often than not, his actions ranging from innocent but obnoxious (playing and flirting with girls rather than helping with chores like picking up vital supplies, leaving Katara to do all of the quite literal heavy lifting and keeping her stuck in the role of caretaker that she’d been thrust into following the death of her mother), to deliberate and harmful (hiding the map to Katara and Sokka’s father, a truly selfish action, regardless of his lack of malicious intent, and one for which he never actually apologized), to somewhere in between (”she didn’t really mean that” he says to the man refusing to train Katara because she’s a girl, when yes, she very much did mean that, and Aang was no help in finally getting the old codger to eat his words--Katara had to shove them down his throat her own damn self).

While Katara’s overall arc wasn’t exactly big and dynamic (like Zuko’s redemption arc), or in-your-face (like Sokka getting force-fed Respect Women Juice and his eventual growth into a tactician and leader), it was very much present and woven into her character--and Aang had almost no part in it. He provided her with the means to get to the North Pole, but left Katara alone to fight the patriarchy herself. He messed around while Katara took it on herself to do the chores and keep the Gaang alive, but he did almost nothing to decrease that burden so she could grow out of the caretaker role. (Contrary to popular shipper claims, Aang didn’t actually teach Katara to have fun. She already knew how to have fun. But she couldn’t indulge, because she had a responsibility to her family and her tribe, and later to her brother and Aang and Toph, and Aang goofing off and trying to get her to do the same only added to her burdens rather than subtracting from them.) He provided Katara with the necessary motive to learn to heal herself, but he certainly didn’t seem to learn from the experience of accidentally burning her, preferring instead to claim he was never going to firebend again, despite already knowing, at that point, that he was going to need to master fire along with the other elements to become a fully realized Avatar and defeat the Firelord.

He didn’t help Katara keep them alive during The Desert. (In fact, he ran off, leaving her to desperately try to keep Sokka and Toph from succumbing to the heat while worrying for his safety.) In The Painted Lady, Katara makes the decision to stall the Gaang and do what she can to help the Fire Nation villagers on her own--Aang agrees to help her when he finds out, but he wasn’t actually instrumental in her making that choice. The Puppetmaster was, again, Katara finding a master of her own, and having to deal with the fallout from that. And in The Southern Raiders, Aang was--perhaps unknowingly, if I’m being generous, because he is a child and could not reasonably be expected to fully understand the implications of what he was asking her to do or why it was impossible--actively impeding Katara’s development! She desperately needed closure, something he could not understand and actively belittled and dismissed. The only reason he relented in the end (but not without a condescending ‘I forgive you! Does that give you any ideas???’ parting shot lmao) was because Katara was planning to take Appa anyway, and letting her go (and hoping she’d just magically wind up doing things his way) was easier than trying to fight her on it.

While Aang’s existence was necessary for Katara to start down her own path, she needed neither his guidance nor his approval to follow it--and absolutely nothing would change about Katara’s arc if you removed their romantic relationship entirely.

Possibly because the only changes needed to do so would be to remove the two times Aang kissed Katara without her consent (which, hopefully, no one would actually miss), and the epilogue kiss (which was awkward and unnecessary to begin with, since ending the entire show on a romantic kiss as the final shot kind of missed the point of the story to begin with, but that’s another discussion). None of these kisses (which are the only moments in which Katara’s feelings for Aang are so much as addressed; do note that addressing them, or hinting that they needed to be, is not the same as saying she exhibited any sign of reciprocating them) altered anything about Katara’s behavior, her personal arc, or (and perhaps most critically) her relationship with Aang.

It’s that last point that is really damning, as far as ‘Katara obviously had feelings for Aang, she kissed him in the finale!’ goes. Because she didn’t ‘obviously’ have feelings for him. And the fact that he kissed her before the invasion and then she forgot about it (she literally had no idea what he was talking about during the play’s intermission until he reminded her that he’d kissed her) is pretty clear evidence that she didn’t actually have feelings for him. Not the kind he had for her.

I’ve been a teenage girl. I know what it’s like to be surprise!kissed by your crush. And I absolutely for a full fact know that I had not completely forgotten about that kiss three months later and had, in fact, spent most of my waking hours thinking about it and remembering it and trying to talk to him about it. Now, granted, I was not in the middle of a war, but even if I had been, I doubt I would have needed reminding about the fact that the boy I’ve supposedly been developing feelings for had kissed me and showed clearly that he had those feelings for me too.

At the very least, if Katara was harboring feelings that she was worried about approaching until after the war, her relationship dynamic with Aang should have shifted. But it didn’t. She acted the exact same way with him after the Day of Black Sun as she did before it--that is, as a mother figure and a caretaker, responsible for his wellbeing. (And it’s clear she never took him down off the pedestal she needed him to occupy, either--let it not be said that the unhealthy aspects of their relationship only went one way.)

And book 3 is, incidentally, where Katara went from being vital to Aang’s development to being detrimental to it--or, rather, Aang’s refusal to let go of his attachment to her (despite ostensibly having done as much at the end of book 2) was. Because despite having been told by, perhaps, the greatest authority left in the world on Air Nomad culture (even more than Aang, who had left his temple with a child’s understanding of his culture that was never able to mature because he got stuck in the ice berg while his people were wiped out) that he had to let go of his possessive attachment to this girl who never even expressed the possibility that she might harbor romantic feelings for him to begin with, after Azula killed him and Katara brought him back, he went right back into the mindset of Katara is mine, it’s just a matter of time.

And the narrative validated him for it.

Notice how, during Ember Island Players, Aang says the following (emphasis mine):

“We kissed at the invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.”

First of all, if you go back and watch the scene, it’s clear it wasn’t a mutual kiss. Aang sprang a surprise kiss on Katara, which left her shocked and unhappy after he flew off. (The decision to have her looking away and frowning was a deliberate one on the part of Bryke, who wanted Katara’s feelings kept ambiguous. Heaven forbid you allow the animators to make it clear that this fourteen-year-old girl who was just kissed without her consent by someone she’d never once demonstrated romantic feelings toward might actually have some. Heaven forbid she have a little agency in her own romantic narrative. But whatever.)

Second, he says he thought they were gonna be together.

He thought.

He never once even asked Katara what she thought--or even how she felt. He just assumes. He assumes that if he kisses her, she’ll kiss him back and they’ll get together. He assumes that she must have feelings for him, even though her body language is closed off and she told him with her words that she did not want to talk or think about this right now, and kisses her regardless of those signals, upsetting her and leading her to storm off.

And the narrative rewards him, because despite the fact that they don’t have a single significant scene together after that second disastrous kiss, Katara just decides off-screen that she Does Love Him Really and walks onto the balcony to make out with him.

The upshot of all this being that, while Katara was indeed instrumental to a lot of Aang’s early growth and development, Aang was not necessary for her own arc, and their romantic relationship (such as it was) actively hampered Aang’s development in book 3, while removing it would change absolutely nothing for Katara (except saving her from some painfully embarrassing memories).

As far as your third point, I’m simply not going to get baited into explaining how reducing Zutara to an ‘oppressor/oppressed’ relationship is not only insulting to interracial couples irl (not to mention any other couple with a potentially unbalanced dynamic of societal power, since there are many more axis of oppression than just racial), but demeaning to Zuko and Katara, their personal arcs as well as their relationship development together.

However, I will point out that Zuko was not responsible for any of Katara’s trauma. She did not find violence and fighting in bending battles to be traumatic--in fact, she reveled in it. She enjoyed fighting against Zuko at multiple points (especially noticeable in their battle at the end of book 1), because she wanted to fight--she always had--and once she had the ability, she was ready to throw down with anyone who gave her the slightest reason. (Including, by the way, her own potential waterbending master.) Aang’s death at the end of book 2 was Azula’s doing, and while I think that contributed to Katara’s extreme reaction to Zuko joining the gaang, it was not something for which she actively blamed him, and it wasn’t something she believed would be repeated--she let him go off alone on a journey to find the original firebending masters with Aang well before she chose to forgive him. So she already trusted Zuko’s intentions and that Aang would be safe with him.

Finally, because this has gotten long enough already, I hope you now understand that Zuko and Katara getting together would not require ignoring any of their development with their canonical romantic partners. We’ve already established that Katara’s arc wouldn’t change in the slightest if all of Aang’s romantic advances were removed, and I haven’t even gotten into how Mai meant nothing in the grand scheme of Zuko’s development because I’m pretty sure that’s just self-evident. I mean, the video compilation put together by Nick showcasing Zuko’s journey throughout the series doesn’t include a single scene with Mai, though it does include several with Katara, and even Jin makes an appearance--because Katara, and even Jin, played key roles in Zuko’s personal journey, while his relationship with Mai happened entirely off-screen and her only real function was to showcase just how unhealthy trying to force himself back into the role of the Crown Prince was for him.

What development, exactly, is there between them to even ignore?

At any rate, I’ve gone on long enough--I hope you enjoy the fact that you activated my wordvomit trap card right when i was about to go to bed, anon, because I just spent two hours writing this instead. In case you’re interested in the TL;DR: at the end of the day, there was no meaningful, mutual development in Kataang’s romantic relationship, and those romantic feelings that did exist were largely one-sided and ultimately detrimental to Aang’s development in the final third of his overall arc. Meanwhile, Mai meant nothing to Zuko’s journey--rather like Aang’s romantic overtures, she could be removed from the show completely and nothing about his story would change--while Zuko and Katara were both vital to each other’s overall storylines, arcs and development. This, coupled with the fact that Zuko never actually traumatized Katara and, in fact, helped her achieve closure from the biggest source of her own trauma, means that Zuko and Katara have better and more believable build up that could potentially lead to a romantic relationship than either of them have with their canon romantic partners.

So no, anon, I didn’t forget anything--I think you may have, though. Perhaps a rewatch is in order? Make sure not to close your eyes for the back half of book 3 this time.

#atla #zutara #zuko #katara #aang salt #kataang salt #maiko salt #salt for ts #just trying to cover my bases #asked #Anonymous

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verymuchimmortalcat · 3 years

Text

As You Were Once

For Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month Day 14: De-aged

ao3

@maribat-bdbwm

Marinette was waiting at the airport for her dad, Cass, Damian, Tim and Steph. Lucius had said that there were some important things to handle in the Paris branch of WE and had insisted upon Bruce dealing with it himself. Then the others wanted to join him, leaving Dick as Batman for the week, Signal, Red Hood, Oracle and the Birds of prey to protect Gotham. Alfred had decided to go on a vacation when most of the Manor's occupants were coming to Paris and Duke would be staying with Jason for the next week.

The five of them had promised that they wouldn't interfere in case of an akuma attack. Though Marinette was sure that they weren't going to sit back if they decided their help was needed. But hopefully they wouldn't deal with anything too severe this week.

She waves as she spots her siblings, all of them with the exception of Steph trying not to draw attention to themselves.

“B’s still getting everything sorted at customs and immigration,” Tim informs her once she’s finished hugging all of them.

She frowns, “was there a problem with something?”

“He’s keeping up his cover,” Damian states.

“He’s being unnaturally friendly to someone he hasn’t done a background check on,” Steph says.

“It was starting to get creepy,” Cass adds.

Marinette probably would have run away too. Galas were one thing, everyone there had been through an extensive background check but the whole Brucie Wayne act in front of people he knew absolutely nothing about was a completely different level of strange.

Their conversation turns to everything she’s missed since their last conversation. She gets a very detailed update on Damian’s pets

They weren't waiting long before they were joined by B. Though he had to leave almost immediately to WE apparently whatever he had come for had been more urgent than they had realised.

Once her dad is gone the five of them head to the bakery, while there wasn't space for everyone to stay at the bakery, all of them had wanted to spend time with the Dupain-Chengs.

.oOo.

They're all at the bakery when the screaming starts. All of them immediately jump up but before any of them can join her she stops them and tells them to cover for her. Tom and Sabine don't know her identity and her siblings can't risk theirs over what’s probably a simple akuma attack.

Promising them she'll call if she needs help she transforms and heads in the direction of the akuma. Adrien's already there but the others aren't supposed to transform unless needed. It's pretty close to WE. Marinette hopes her father actually remembered his promise and didn't become a target.

She stops to rescue a larger number of children then she'd normally have to. Why are there so many children outside during an akuma attack?

It's only when she stops in front of a boy who appears to be about seven who looks exactly like the photos Alfred has of her father at that age does she figure out what the akuma's powers are.

De aging.

Marinette asks him anyway, there is always the possibility that a random Parisian child looks exactly like a seven-year-old version of her father.

It is not a random Parisian child. Marinette is the holder of the miraculous of good luck, you really would think she’d have better luck.

She crouches down so that she’s at his eye level, “I’m going to take you somewhere safe. Is that ok with you?”

He looks unsure but he nods. Picking him up, she swings back to the bakery as fast as possible. She calls Nino, Alya and Kagami and tells them there's a family emergency and to take care of the akuma and to bring it to her so she could purify it.

Landing in an alleyway near the bakery, she de-transforms. She doesn't bother with telling him to keep her identity a secret. He already knows in the future and he's definitely not going to talk to someone who doesn't already know who she is.

Holding his hand she leads him to the bakery. She tells Damian to get the others up and takes her dad (wow, is it strange to think of an approximately seven year old as her dad) to the living room.

She tells Tikki to give tiny Bruce something to occupy his time while she and her siblings figure something out. As they all join her upstairs, she sees as each of them realise what's happened and go from shock to laughter.

"He doesn't remember anything. The others are taking care of the akuma. Figured you’d need help taking care of him," she says before Tim can ask.

"Hasn't happened yet," Cass states.

The laughter from a few seconds ago is gone. They all know what she's talking about. This Bruce Wayne hasn't lost his parents.

This Bruce Wayne also seems to be glaring at them, he also looks scared. She can’t blame him, he wasn’t offered much of an explanation before she brought him here.

"Where are my parents?” he demands, “The girl who brought me here obviously seems to be some kind of superhero. Who are the rest of you?"

None of them look shocked that he knows that she’s Ladybug but none of them are dwelling on that. He asked for his parents what could they even tell him? They obviously can't tell him his parents are dead but they also know it wouldn't be fair to lie to him.

"Would you like to talk to Alfred?" Tim asks suddenly. They all sigh in relief when he nods.

Marinette calls Alfred but doesn't hand the phone to tiny Bruce immediately, it would definitely be more painful for Alfred than any of them to deal with him in this state.

As soon as he picks up, Marinette starts speaking, "there was an akuma and dad became small and he's asking for his parents and we offered to call you instead."

Alfred being Alfred remains calm and asks her to hand the phone to tiny Bruce. All of them are staring at him as he talks to Alfred over the phone. Even though they can hear only one side of the conversation, tiny Bruce seems to calm down.

Once he ends the call, he hands the phone back to her and says, "Alfred says that some kind of magic made me small and that all of you are very important to me when I become big."

"You're strangely adorable," Steph says.

He frowns at that and he’s never before looked more like Damian.

“So, what do you like to do when you're bored?” Marinette asks, bending down in front of him and they all watch as one of the world’s greatest heroes rambles on about something his mom showed him last week.

.oOo.

This is the most they’ve ever heard Bruce talk about his parents and Alfred. They’re all listening intently about the woman who was their grandmother right now. Neither of them want to ask for more information. It wouldn't make sense to not know his parents if they were close to him. Alfred mentioned once that Marinette looks startlingly similar to Martha Wayne, Tim wonders if B’s picked up on it yet. Even if he has, Tim supposes, there wouldn’t be any reason for him to dwell on it as far as the Bruce in front of them is concerned his parents are alive and well.

They’ve all snuck pictures of him talking animatedly, he’s too carefree to notice, has no reason not to be. He’s already sent a few to Alfred and the others and immediately switched off notifications. Marinette and Damian do it too when their phones start blowing up, Steph’s just ignoring it and still taking photos and Cass is spamming them back.

He goes back to watching Bruce talk without the weight he’s been carrying in all the time Tim’s known him.

.oOo.

It's strange, Cass thinks, to see him like this. The closest he's ever been to this relaxed is when all of them are at the manor for something other than a gala or bat business.

She's alternating between listening to Bruce and tormenting her brothers who stayed back in Gotham. She’s sure if patrol wasn’t starting soon, they would’ve been here already for varying reasons.

She wonders if he’ll remember any of this when he comes back to normal, she’ll have to ask Marinette.

.oOo.

They moved to Marinette’s room in case the Dupain-Chengs check on them. Father’s taking a break from talking and is going through Marinette’s designs, Stephanie and Cassandra are with him. Drake seems to have taken on the responsibility of tormenting the others remaining in Gotham or he’s just texting his boyfriend, Damian doesn’t want to know.

He’s watching as the three of them go through Marinette’s designs, and watches as she gets progressively more flustered as they bury her in compliments, well mostly Stephanie, Cassandra and Father aren’t as vocal but it’s also the most he’s heard Father compliment someone sincerely.

It’s strange to think of the child in front of him as his father. He smiles a lot more and even laughed several times.

And then Stephanie mentions that Damian draws and Father’s asking him if he could look at his drawings. Damian offers him a small smile and unlocks his phone and shows him the recent painting of Titus, Alfred, Ace and Jerry and watches as his Father analyses the whole painting.

Maybe the child in front of him is not the father he’s gotten to know but it is nice to see him all the same.

.oOo.

Marinette’s starting to get worried. It’s been an hour and the others haven’t returned with the Akuma yet. They can’t keep tiny Bruce occupied forever. She’s considering transforming and checking it out when Tim pokes his head out from where he’s sitting on her bed and says, “hey Mari, delivery for you.”

Alya’s standing next to him with the akuma in a jar, looking confused. Marinette sighs, explaining this is going to be interesting.

She climbs up and heads to the balcony before transforming. Alya hands her the jar and Marinette purifies the akuma, calls for her lucky charm and throws it up in the air.

“So…” Alya starts, “wanna explain what that was about?”

“Family emergency. I’ll tell you about it later. Bye!” and then Marinette’s back in her room. Her siblings seem to be panicking and her dad’s not there. The Miraculous Ladybug should have taken him back to where he was. He’s probably standing in the middle of the street completely disoriented.

Detransforming she joins their discussion, or more accurately panicked argument, to let them know what happened. They’re all on their way to the Paris branch of WE in a few minutes. She’s sure one of the employees is bound to have found him and explained things to him but they’re still going just in case.

He’s attacked by hugs when they find him in the lobby of the building, he looks confused as to why but none of them offer any explanation. Steph’s the first one to pull away when her phone starts ringing.

“Shit. We forgot to tell Alfred everything’s fine again.”

Letting go of her dad, she checks her phone and there at the very top of her notifications is a missed call from Alfred. Just one, he’s not anything like the rest of the family as proven by the hundred notifications below that. Steph’s already picked up the call and handed it to B. Marinette sends Dick a message to let him know that everything’s back to normal and to please not come to Paris once patrol’s done.

There are people staring at them, which isn’t surprising but makes her uncomfortable all the same and she knows the rest of them probably feel the same, though Tim might've gotten used to it. They watch in silence as B finishes talking to Alfred and hands Steph’s phone back to her.

He looks over the bunch of them and asks, “did you have something to tell me?”

It feels like forever that they stand awkwardly looking at him before Marinette says, “nope! Nothing important,” and drags her siblings out of the building and back to the bakery. They can talk to him later and Damian’s yawning on their way back. It’s been one hell of a first day in Paris for them, she can’t wait for the rest of the week.

#the only reason this is on time is because ive had it written for a month #maribat #mbdbwm2021 #bio dad bruce wayne #my writing

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 1/8

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NANAMI!! 🎂

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

The final road before the bend that led to Gojo Manor stretched before Nanami, signaled by the consistent shield of the ancient cryptomeria trees that lined the road side. The forest was a momentary relief from the glare of the sun reflecting on the windshield of his silver Lexus. Such was the inconvenience of driving in the middle of a bright day when the sun was at its pedestal, making no room for shadows, no reprieve from the heat. He detested it.

A sigh escaped his lips. It’s supposed to be the beginning of autumn, he was thinking for the umpteenth time that day. He would really appreciate it if the Siberian winds would herald the actual beginning of the season. Yes, he thought. That would be nice.

The weather was, nevertheless, the least of his worries, and as he finally made the turn to the incongruously long gravel driveway of the estate, the real cause of his anxiety reared its head to the surface, presaged by the denser shadows of trees and the high gables of the colossal structure that housed the seat of the Gojo clan. It was supposed to be unfounded, his apprehension, or so he tried to convince himself since deciding to make an appearance earlier than expected. He couldn’t keep it at bay anymore when the emotion was mixed with hopeful anticipation. An odd combination, indeed.

He had no choice but to come, or rather, he wanted to come. It was for an important occasion anyway, Gojo Satoru and Utahime Iori’s wedding week specifically. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. If it was significant to two of the most important people in his life then the same applies where his views on the matter was concerned. After all, he greatly appreciated it that Gojo chose him as his best man, well one of them anyway. The man could never make up his mind if he tried so, breaking the traditional order of things, he has two “best men” – him and Geto Suguru.

Much to the groom-to-be’s disappointment, Nanami initially planned to show up a day before the ceremony itself. It was an added displeasure to the fact that Geto wasn’t going to show up until later that week as he was overseas for work. Gojo still probably was disappointed since Nanami did not exactly say anything about showing up earlier. But when he saw an opening in his jampacked schedule which was rare, he took the opportunity to take time off work. As annoying as Gojo was, he did not deserve to have two absent best men on his wedding week. Besides, a week away from the firm wouldn’t hurt, and he thought it was a good way to unwind before his big case.

If he would be able to unwind anyway.

The man had been sure of how he would manage through the occasion if he only spent a maximum of two days surrounded by crowds which were sure to be invited to the happy celebration. After all, nobody ever expected the young master of the Gojo Clan to ever be serious enough about anyone romantically, much less get married. Now that he had to stay for longer, giving chances to more occurrences of a variety of events, he wasn’t so certain. Anything could happen at Gojo Manor. Anything.

His optimism relied on that fact. Troublesome things usually happened with Gojo and Geto together, throw in the other members of the family and the other clans in the area, but Nanami was betting everything on this week.

A pair of cool, aqua eyes met his dark orbs the moment he stepped into the semi-outdoor ballroom of the opulent house. It was always like instinct, the way Nanami’s senses seem to heighten and hyper focus on one person, all else tuned out and seemingly nonexistent. Like always, without a hitch, he found you.

Alas. If he was questioning the reason for his hopefulness, that wasn’t the case anymore.

There you were, stood on the elevated corner by the refreshments table. You appeared like a celestial being walking among mortals, the halo of silvery white hair shimmering under the sunlight filtering through the room making you seem as if you did not exactly exist in the same realm as everyone else.

You were initially not paying attention to anyone despite your cousin, Miwa, chatting away beside you. But then, you leaned towards the latter when she whispered something, being equally conspiratorial by raising your champagne flute to your mouth. By the looks of it, prior to that, you have long tuned them out, Miwa and her friends, what with your poor attempt at pretending to pay attention. Nanami knew you have mastered the art of doing so since you were a child. It wasn't on purpose, or so you say. You were simply oblivious most of the time or you just didn't care. And you tended to only see and hear what you wanted.

At the moment, he was the object of your attention. He was sure of it, unable to help but to be much too aware of it, nerves pulled to their limits like piano strings conditioned to make sounds at the slightest of touch of its ebony and ivory keys. The feeling he had made you real, existing. He wasn’t imagining at all.

At times, he still could not believe that he watched you grow up to the person you are at present. The first time he knew of your existence was when Gojo invited him and some of their other friends to that very house in middle school. You were just as remarkable as a child as you are as a grown woman, much too quick-witted and eloquent at six even as your nanny carried you astride her hip, looking very much like a female infant version of Gojo. The bright blue eyes you shared with the male shone with the same intelligence he possessed, probably more, even without doing or saying anything. It just emanated from the two of you even if Gojo behaved like an utter idiot at times.

You shifted your line of vision to Miwa who was inconspicuously flailing her hands as a silent and agitated command for the other girls to disperse when she saw Nanami approaching. In a split second, you were alone. Miwa has always been unreasonably fidgety around him but he never quite understood why.

"I seemed to have driven away your company," he said to you the moment he was within earshot, watching you exchange your empty glass for another that's full.

You finally faced him, your scintillating eyes glittering under the wide skylights above. They were fathomless as they were luminous, shining with mischief. It was a familiar sight. From a state of tedium, they seem to come alive at the idea of tormenting him.

"I don't mind."

Of course not. The corners of his mouth curled inconspicuously at that similarity he shared with you. "I seem to always offend that cousin of yours."

"Not really. Frighten is more like it." Your eyes stayed on him even as you drank from your glass.

"Frightened?" Nanami repeated with inflection. He knew Miwa was awkward around him, but it was news that she was afraid of him. He didn’t have anything against her since unlike you, she was actually a sweet girl.

"Well, you have always been purposefully abrasive, you have taken the language of sarcasm to a whole new level and you are a grouch," you told him without batting an eyelash when everyone else was intimidated by him. You were probably the only one who could treat him that way. Not even your brother who is his best friend could do that and mean it.

His planned glance turned into a sidelong stare when he saw how you were eyeing him the same way. The difference was that you had a knowing look about you, evident in the way your eyes shone with diablerie and the contumelious curl at the corners of your luscious lips.

"Is that your opinion of me?" he asked, his expressions remaining stoic. Inside, it was a different story. You are the last being on earth he wanted to view him the way others usually did. He always thought you acted around him differently – defied him, messed with his head (and heart if he was being honest), and annoyed him – because you saw him differently, too. He liked that idea, the feeling it gives him. It was already enough that you are forbidden territory because you are his best friend's little sister. He didn't want you to turn out to be just like everyone else.

You grinned but didn't satisfy his query with a response. It was just like you to keep him guessing that way. You loved your games and especially loved to play them with him. He liked to play along at times, but it gets difficult to keep up with your antics. Your thought process was something he still has to figure out despite years of knowing you.

Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere by engaging you, he said, "Where's the groom-to-be?"

You pointed at the direction of the wood-framed glass doors leading to the indoor salon where your brother was speaking to one of the organizers for his wedding.

When Nanami followed your line of vision, he found the person in question. On a long table before Gojo were different arrangements of flowers, all in shades of pink, cream and white. Honestly, he saw no difference but Gojo was eyeing them as if choosing the right one will solve global warming.

"Being fussy about the flower arrangements more than his bride, obviously." Shaking his head, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his grey, pinstriped slacks before facing you again. "You think it's a good time to step in?"

At that, you smirked openly. "Wanna play a game, Nanamin?" you asked, appearing and sounding innocent as you addressed him with that nickname you knew he hated.

"Sure," he said without hesitation, knowing well the kind of person you are when you’re refused.

"No protestations this time, I see. You're learning."

He shot you a withering look, pushing his glasses up his nose. "That coming from a childish brat. I won't take offense." He immediately regretted saying that when he saw how your eyes glinted with something sinister. What it was, he didn't know, but he was sure about one thing: he just walked into another one of your traps willingly.

"Whoever gets a rise out of Satoru wins," you said, cocking your head to your brother's general direction.

That was easy, he thought. The fact that he showed up for the week-long preparations for the nuptials was enough to draw out a profound reaction from Gojo. Nanami was just that kind of best friend – absent. In his defense, he did make it to the important parts just in time, but this was something new to Gojo. For all he knew, he wasn't even expecting him to arrive until the wedding.

"Fine." He nodded at you, the action very minute. He was never big on actions. "We'll talk about the compensation later."

You returned the gesture with saccharine mordacity to it. "Alright." However, instead of moving towards the goal, you walked towards the other direction, signaling for him to go first.

It was an easy victory. The moment he walked into the salon, Gojo’s attention was immediately pulled away from the flower arrangements, his eyes going wide as saucers as he took in the fact that his best man arrived way ahead of time.

"Who are you and what have you done to Nanami Kento?" he asked aloud, making some of the guests for the day's luncheon turn towards them. He was evidently elated, his wife-to-be coming to join in, hugging Nanami while he clapped the man on the shoulder.

"I wouldn't miss this happy occasion for the world," Nanami told the couple, trying his best to convey his thoughts without sounding patronizing. That would be overdoing things even if it meant he would win against you. He wasn’t big on emotions and sentiments either.

All the while, his eyes furtively strayed to you, his competitor, watching you from way across the ballroom, sipping leisurely at your champagne as if you cannot be bothered. However, if Nanami thought he has seen the worst that you can do, he couldn't have been more mistaken in his life.

In the next moment, you entered the salon, appearing self-satisfied as you sauntered towards them, looking like a queen surveying your domain. "Well, well. If it isn't the big shot lawyer himself, coming to grace us with his presence!"

He clucked his tongue, reading through your ploy. You weren’t exactly one for theatrics most of the time, typically straightforward and brutally frank, but your games were as intricate as they were vexing. Nanami turned to face you just enough to conceal his expression from Gojo and Utahime, arching a brow at you in both challenge and question.

In a flash of black and white, you have taken your place in front of him barely a foot away. Your intention to further close the distance between the both of you only became evident when both your hands shot forward, taking possession of both sides of his face as you willed him to bend to your height, tiptoeing to make up for the remaining space. In a brief but seemingly drawn-out sequence of events, you staked your claim on his slightly parted mouth in a scorching lip lock.

Nanami was momentarily distracted by the faint taste of champagne, that detail registering in his brain before the sensation of your pliant lips pressed against his. The realization dawned too late making blood rush up to his head and for his ears to ring as he froze and burned simultaneously. His arms had unconsciously found their way around your slender waist, the feel of your warmth under your taffeta dress searing his palms. It was more for the purpose of steadying himself than you on your precariously high heels. The mere touch of your hand made him incoherent, but the feeling of your lips on his drove him to irrationality. The slim likeliness of the act happening between him and you made it feel as if he was going to pass out or wake up from a long, vivid dream.

He was there. He exists. You were there, real as can be. And you were kissing him.

Gasps erupted from all around, and before he knew it, you have pulled away, releasing your grip on him. As if he couldn’t dig his grave any deeper and punctuate his loss any further, Nanami leaned towards you, chasing your lips, attempting to continue your little interlude, uncaring of where you were or who was watching. After having a tiny taste of it, the absence of your touch affronted him like no other. If having you that close was what it meant to lose, then he will gladly have it.

Your laughter snapped him out of his trance. When his vision focused, he found you leaning away, your hand pressed against his chest to keep him at bay.

“Eager, aren’t we?” you said loud enough for him to hear, and for everyone’s benefit, you droned on, saying, “Been dying to do that since I saw you come in.”

Dazed, he just stared at you before him, the fact that he did not just lose to you within the premise of the game registering in his mind like a flash of lightning. Blood rushed to his head, heat permeating from the base of his neck to his scalp when his eyes strayed to Gojo who looked scandalized.

“You…what…” the other male endeavored to speak, but nothing coherent came out of his mouth, his blue eyes rapidly shifting between you and Nanami while his fiancée giggled beside him.

Indifferent to everything else and your sights only set on the object of your trickery, you tittered, savoring the hilarity of the situation. At least, to you, it was funny. “See you around, Nanamin,” you drawled and left with that confident gait, shaking your head in levity.

He wanted to join in on your conviviality, but the idea dissipated faster than water under intense heat when he saw his best friend eyeing him like he was about to castrate him. Nanami straightened up, rearranging his expression to that of quiet shock, laying it on thick by blinking cluelessly as if it was typical of him but Gojo was having none of it.

Ah, the joys of losing to you, he could just think despite his impending doom. Or maybe he was doomed to begin with. He couldn’t care less with the pleasant tingling of his lips and the memory of yours, the taste lingering on his tongue.

“You and me, in the game room. You’ve a lot of explaining to do.”

If Nanami would be asked how many times he lost to you, he wouldn’t have an answer. At least not for what is healthy for his pride and because he lost count. His only consolation was that he wasn’t the only one who had ever been under your thumb over the years you have had the upper hand. You’ve always had the advantage, and one way or the other, regardless of the odds of the games you played, be it tomfoolery or serious bets, you invariably have a way of turning them into your favor.

He could well say his chances of winning cases in court is higher compared to the fact that you always bested him in life. It frustrated him to no end.

“Wanna play a game?” Those were always the words which heralded a series of infuriating inconveniences that he, along with some other individuals, had to be subjected to ever since you acquired your penchant for mischief and seeming thirst to challenge if not victimize people.

Those words, paired with a ridiculous nickname of your choosing for each of your conquests gave one no choice but to engage. The way you say it was enough to rile even someone who just happened to be listening, as if you were surreptitiously patronizing the person of your choosing. The unreadable expression on your face when you initiate your games also makes one’s hackles rise. While Gojo had the same tendency to be condescending when he wanted to be, you were exponentially more menacing compared to him.

In your defense, you never did it to everyone. It was as if you have a rationale behind the selection of people you felt like messing with. Your criteria was not something that is known to anybody else. At first, it was just Gojo. Then Geto and Shoko Ieiri, another close friend of your brother, got a taste of it until finally, it was his turn. Anyone none the wiser would think your ‘affections’ were solely focused on Gojo’s friends, but apparently, it wasn’t the case.

There were three kinds of people where your games were concerned: people you didn’t give a damn about, those you liked to play with and those you engaged with but eventually stopped being a pain to.

Most people around you were the first type since you mostly didn’t give two fucks about them. For some reason, it had become a sort of status quo in the Gojo household to be included in your sphere but few were lucky enough to hold your attention long enough.

The third kind were people who seemed to have reached an understanding with you. Geto, Utahime and Shoko used to be casualties in your ploys, but after a game or two, they’ve eventually ‘graduated,’ and you treated them like equals. Apart from that, there seems to be an exceptional case when you did not have to inflict yourself on the person just like in the case of your closest friend, Itadori Yuuji. That kid was special somehow, and Nanami thought perhaps he was, too, until you got started with him.

As for him and Gojo, they were still people you liked to torment. His theory was that you were looking for something from the people you play with. If you find it, you stop. It wasn’t a theory anymore that it was a sort of defense mechanism if he deduced right, judging from the situations which led to the change in your behavior.

It all started when you came home from boarding school overseas after finishing your freshman year in high school. Gojo had invited them over as per usual for the summer events being held at their estate but suddenly started talking about his concerns over you.

“She’s distant,” he said with a sigh when asked about it. Apparently, your parents were upset over you decision not to attend the school of their choice anymore and threatened to drop out and run away if they insisted further. “And there seems to be something wrong with her. She seems different somehow. Very snappy and always in a foul mood. She rarely leaves her room, and when we try to help, she gets angrier.”

“She’s in that phase, huh?” Shoko mused. “Want me to talk to her?”

Gojo insisted to do it, being all dramatic and saying he had been a lousy brother. But that’s when you started being the way you were. You weren’t an angry teen anymore, just someone who indulged yourself by toying with others without regard to whose expense and to what extent. Most of them were harmless, but you very nearly endangered two of your friends, too.

Nanami dug his own grave when he purposefully tried to have a go at you, pointing out your mistakes in an attempt to intervene at that time. You used to be rather passive where he was concerned, polite even, but then everything changed that night.

He was somehow glad that you decided to approach him when you needed help when you usually gravitated towards Geto, surprised to see you at his doorstep past midnight and looking ashen.

First, you dared this new girl, Kugisaki Nobara, to sneak into the abandoned factory at night, and the girl ended up hurting yourself. You looked so regretful and distraught while explaining what happened on the ride to the factory, and for the first time, he realized that you only ever challenged people you held a certain degree of fondness for. Everything ended well without anybody else knowing of your mishaps but him, and in a twist of fate, she even became your first real friend.

And then, you started yet another game with Fushiguro Megumi, effectively getting him kicked out his father’s clan. You weren’t exactly aware about the deeper reason as to why his family wanted him to be close to you, only that you found displeasure in it because he was a groom candidate. It was common among old clans like yours, and when you dared him to tell your parents he had no intention of marrying you, your brother had to intervene and take the boy in, ending up registered under Gojo Clan instead. While his family was trash in all sense of the word, you were still at fault since you ruined his only chance at being accepted by the clan head. Still, he, too, became your friend, and more than that, an adopted brother.

“Is this some attention-seeking behavior you’ve learned somewhere?” Nanami asked you that time.

“I get attention without as much as lifting a finger being who I am.” You snorted. “I can’t expect everything to be positive though.”

He was taken aback by your statement then. Still, he tested his theory. You were different after all. While some people admired you for your genius and your otherworldly looks, there will always be those who hated you for it. It was like a repeat of Gojo, except that he had them, his friends. Whom did you have?

“Are you being bullied at school?”

At that, your pupils constricted, your bright eyes turning icy as you regarded him. You were quiet for a moment as you stared, not exactly enraged but your brows furrowed together. Nanami could see the cogs in your brain moving through your eyes when you slowly grinned and said those four words: “Wanna play a game?”

He’s been losing to you ever since, not really knowing what you want and what set you off, hell-bent on making him miserable at every opportunity you could take.

It wasn’t all different at present.

The moment he heard the click of the doorknob and your scent – a mix of crisp autumn air, vanilla and a hint of something that reminded him of happiness – registered in his brain, he froze on his chair in the study where he was currently taking notes on his upcoming case. It was a trade-off for the length of time he would be gone from the law firm he worked at. His grip on his pen tightened that he thought he would break it to splinters when he saw you from his periphery, still looking like a goddess, fresh and gorgeous despite the day's affairs.

You were so painfully beautiful that concentrating on the file before him was proving to be difficult. Everything else didn't make sense to him whenever you were in the same room as he is. It didn't help that you kissed him in front of everyone just a few hours ago. He couldn't forget the feeling no matter how many times he convinced himself that it was just you playing your games; that it was nothing. He wished it was otherwise, not that it helped in his cause a bit.

"What on earth was that about?" Gojo demanded, pulling him aside to the game room like a child who did something naughty. In fairness to him, he was still fond enough of Nanami to offer him a drink but, indeed, he thought, what on earth was that about?

He shrugged. "Have you met your sister? Surely, you know just what crazy antics she has up her sleeves. She gets her annoying side from you anyway."

The answer seemed to have placated the male for the time being but if you were going to continue with your mischief, Nanami has no way of telling where things can go. And judging by your confident gait and the complacent grin swathed on your countenance, you were up to no good again.

He carded his fingers through his blond locks, leaning back on the chair as he furtively watched you.

"Do you need anything?" he asked calmly despite himself.

"Hmm. I won," you murmured, rounding the heavy oak desk before vaulting yourself up on it to sit just beside his papers, your eyes zeroing in on the files.

He shot you an accusing glare. "What was that about?"

You arched a brow at him, wrenching your gaze from the documents with a frown, the way your eyes widened in mock innocence making him want to box your ears. "What was what about, Nanamin?” The preposterous nickname rolled off your tongue tauntingly. “I thought you hated questions that can be openly interpreted."

"Why did you kiss me?" he snapped.

"Well..." You openly mocked him with a smile. "Could there be any other reason apart from our bet?"

"Of all the things you could think of, you went for something that would give your brother a heart attack not to mention that it put me in hot waters."

“Isn’t that the objective of our little bet?”

He sighed. "This is the last time I'm indulging you."

"Eh? You said that the last time we saw each other, too." You feigned exasperation. "Doesn't change the fact that you lost again though."

"What do you want?" He finally sat up straight, stacking the documents on the table. "Why are you sitting there anyway?"

"You're right." You jumped off the desk and much to his confusion, instead of taking one of the seats at the other side of the table, you swatted his arm from the papers and sat on his lap like he was an easy chair.

"What –"

You turned to him then, your faces just inches from one another. "Is this better?" you asked as if you saw nothing wrong with your iffy position.

Nanami didn't know what to do with, his arms remaining still on his sides while he just stared at you as if you grew two heads. "Is this another one of your games?"

You leaned closer to him, your bright eyes drowning him. "You tell me." You laughed then. "I wasn't the one who couldn't get enough of this afternoon's kiss."

He shrugged before he could run away with his thoughts. You were right. He did want to kiss you more, but it wasn't as if he could.

Just then, you reached over and removed the glasses that were always perched over his nose then wore it yourself. "What are you doing?"

"You look better without them," you commented.

"I need them for reading." He rolled his eyes at you. "Get off, Y/N."

"Hmm? Is that really what you want?" you taunted, your hand having found purchase at the back of his head, fingers toying with his soft hair.

He placed a hand on your thigh, slowly climbing up to your hip, reveling in the feel of your warmth under his touch. He looked at you seriously then and leaned away, surprised when you frowned momentarily. It was so fleeting, he didn’t know whether he was imagining it when he saw disappointment on your face. That was a first.

"Y/N, Just tell me what you want. You won the bet after all."

Shrugging, you stood up as if you weren’t just perched on his lap. "Go figure," you quipped, sounding pissed off. "Think of something I would actually want. It's up to you."

“Another game?”

“Think of it as you want.”

"What?"

You slammed the door close in your wake before he could get an answer, once again leaving him there puzzled at your reaction and exasperated with himself.

-end of Part 1-

First of all, Happy Cake Day to the love of my life, Nanamin!

I made him a lawyer here cause that's freakin' hot!!!

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Everyone's aged up here as well, including the younger characters which will be included in the story.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 3 years

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More Headcanon Stuff

Since everyone likes my post about Permits and shit: Here’s more BNHA World Building I use for fics!

Hero School: The Actual Hardest School to Get Into

UA is not, as mentioned previously, that hard to get into. It’s based on a statistic taken out of context, and also because almost the entire country applies but doesn’t get into the hero course.

The hardest school to get into is actually called Shīrudo Academy and is an intelligence-based heroics school.

The exam is twelve hours long and you must get a ninety percent to be allowed in.

The graduates of this school go on to enter the intelligence-based heroics field. They train for years, learning undercover tactics, code work, information gathering and interrogation techniques.

Shīrudo Academy is one of five hero-based programs that do not just include high school but also university. Meaning, you enter the Academy and then leave Shīrudo Institute before you are considered finished.

Second Chance High School-University

Okay not translated because I can’t find like a good translation for this.

Anyway, SC is a high school/university geared towards potential heroes who have black marks on their records, or have criminal records.

SC does NOT accept those who have: Sold drugs, committed Sexual Assault or committed First Degree Murder.

SC is meant to help those who have potential as heroes but have things holding them back. Like Shirudo they are a combination high school and university program. They operate on a ‘Ten Strike’ program in which you have ten attempts to change your ways before they expel you.

They take extreme cases, or on occasion get transfers due to the Red Flag Protocol.

Red Flag Protocol

I fully believe while most hero schools are allowed to run how they want- UA a prime example- there are some general policies or rules.

One of them I call the ‘Entitled Brat’ rule or as it’s called officially ‘Red Flag Protocol’.

Red Flag Protocol is when a student…

-displays signs of extreme violent behaviour

-acts shocked upon being reprimanded

-refuses to listen to teachers or ignores reprimands, acting like it’s a jok when walking into detention

-being shocked to be actually punished and attempting to argue

-displays Quirkist behaviour to Quirkless individuals or those with ‘weaker Quirks’.

-attempts to establish a hierarchy with them at the top and enable them to bully others.

-displays illegal behaviour

-displays sexual harassment to others

The Red Flag Protocol is used in hero courses as there are multiple cases a year when problematic, disturbing or illegal behaviour is noticed in students who had entered the school.

This is due to the status that is given to middle schools that comes from having someone from their school become a hero. As well, there is a monetary fund given to middle schools when they have a student make it a year in a hero course program for high school.

With an emphasis on strong Quirks and brash personalities, it’s no schock that these have become a protocol to watch out for these behaviours.

The student operates on a five-strike program when placed into the protocol. Five strikes, they’re either removed from the hero course or transferred to SC.

Anti-Cheating Board

The ACB is a board sent out when allegations of cheating are made on any test, or when a complaint is lodged that someone is accused of cheating without proof. It is not just for Hero Schools but also for any schools.

The ACB is made up mostly of people who are able to either detect lies or force people to tell the truth. All possess Job Specific Permits for their Quirks.

The ACB is always working because there are a lot of cheating allegations. In recent history, the Aldera school came under fire for accusing a student of cheating fifteen times and had the ACB called in. Now, they have a member of ACB come in to oversee all testing done to prove no cheating is occuring. The school was fined for their Quirkist views due to the student in question being Quirkless.

Homeschooling Program

According to my research, Japan doesn’t allow homeschooling, however, with Quirks I propose that there are some Quirks that could pose a risk to other students. Such as: Quirks that require equipment that if damaged could cause death, injury or other. Or sentient Quirks that are near impossible to control.

Children with dangerous Quirks as well are allowed to be homeschooled. However once control to a reasonable level has been reached, the child is required to enter regular school.

A small scandal came about when Endeavour, Number Two Hero, attempted to have his youngest classified as someone with a dangerous Quirk that required more training. It was proven to be false and Endeavour fined for false filing.

Dangerous Quirk Regulation Bureau

The DC is responsible for tracking those whose Quirks are regarded as a Class 9 on the Quirk Scale. Any Quirk that can cause death or injury or cannot be turned off that influences others is under their view and they monitor them. They provide funds if needed to help control their Quirk.

Often these people enter into Heroics or Military service due to the fact they are regulated.

Quirk Scale

The Quirk Scale is a scale meant to measure how dangerous a Quirk is. (A lot of this is kinda vague so I use examples)

Class 1: Minor Quirk that only affects the person using it. Does not affect anyone or anything else. Example: Colour Changing Eyes.

-Exceptions are caused for those who while their Quirk does not affect anyone else, it can make them unnoticable. Example: Shapeshifting. Spinner resides here. Nezu resides here to only on a technicality that he loves to debate with the Bureau on. They gave up and just slap him with a ‘Class 1 but Class 9 danger’ label.

Class 2: A Quirk that affects other people or things outside the body. However is low-powered and does not negatively affect others without it being on purpose. Example: a low level teleckentic or someone can make a small flame but barely enough to roast a marshmallow.

-Note: Ojiro actually technically is in this category as his Quirk can affect others but requires it being on purpose.

Class 3: Quirks that affect others or things with greater power. A telekentic able to lift larger weights or a fire user able to produce more fire.

-Hagakure is here because while her Quirk only affects her, it can also enable her to spy on others. Sato is here to, along with Sero, Jiro, Asui, and Shouji. Kirishima and Iida are in this category due to a technicality on the fact they can harm others by using their Quirk in negative ways. Otherwise they would be level 1. Similar with Twice.

Class 4: A quirk that only affects others and not themselves but isn’t considered very powerful.

-Note: Kouda actually is here as Anivoice affects animals. Technically he should be a level 6 but as it is animals he was ranked 4. (This changes when they get older though) Mr. Compress and Magne are here to.

Class 5: A quirk that can affect others or cause harm in a way that is more harmful than a class 4.

-Toga is here. Stain as well. Ochako is to. Bakugou resides here to.

Class 6: A Quirk that affects others in ways that are considered to be removing part of their autonomy.

-Aizawa is here. As is Shinsou.

Class 7: A Quirk that can cause damage to an extreme level to others or can affect someone in a way that is regarded as high level.

-Recovery Girl is here. As is All Might, Midoriya, Todoroki, and Endeavour.

Class 8: A Quirk that can cause extreme damage to others or themselves, or a sentient Quirk that does in fact have a downside.

-Kaminari and Dark Shadow are here. Dabi is to. Overhaul and Eri also are here.

Class 9: A Quirk that either can cause death or grievous bodily harm that either cannot be controlled at all, or requires specialized equipment.

-Present Mic and Thirteen are here along with Shigaraki.

Random Laws

Just a few random laws.

Hero School Law of Custody: A Law that states a hero school is awarded partial custody of any student accepted into the school. This law is in place to prevent a parent from pulling a student from the school recklessly or to prevent any contracts being signed without permission from the student. The Hero School may also pull any student from their parents if it is believed to be in their best interest.

Sidekick Law of Emancipation: If anyone under the age of majority earns a sidekick license they are automatically emancipated.

Law of Accidental Death by Quirk: A law that prevents anyone from being charge with murder if they have accidently caused death by their Quirk. For an example, I have an OC called Gas Attack who breathes out deadly gas. She would be protected under this law if her breathing support item that lets her breath the gas into a container that neutralizes it breaks. Or, if Bakugou as a toddler accidentally killed someone with an explosion. Shigaraki would have also been covered under this law when he killed his family.

#bnha #bnha meta #bnha headcanon #worldbuilding

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koushisbabie · 3 years

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nights w kenma

Feeling a bit domestic for Kenma so here’s a drabble that no one asked for

Pairing: Kenma x gender neutral!reader

Warnings: Sexual nature SUGGESTED but there’s literally no nsfw stuff

(gif is not mine)

Soft rain falls on the windowpane, a gentle accompaniment to the stereo playing in the background. Whatever it is that’s playing is catchy and while I water the various indoor plants littering the room, I cannot help but murmur in tune with the song.

Tonight, is not unlike most nights. While study is important, it is also important to take frequent breaks to do what makes you happy – that’s what my friends had told me. Kenma had agreed somewhat nonchalantly to the statement, knowing full well that I would decide to do whatever I wanted regardless of what our friends would advise us, anyway. I chuckle at the memory, almost overwatering a particularly small cactus. Muttering an apology to the little plant I put away the plastic watering can and call for our most recent addition to the family, a tiny white kitten.

‘There you are!’ I kneel to her level, brushing my fingers in her soft fur and scratching underneath her chin as she butts her head into my hand. ‘Are you hungry?’

There is no response aside from very loud kitten purring.

‘Or should we play?’

A ribbon sits in a haphazard pile on the kotatsu, left from the night before. I dangle it in front of the kitten, vaguely away of the footsteps entering the room behind me.

‘Have you thought of a name yet?’

I turn to reply and am met with Kenma’s smile. ‘No, have you?’

‘Not a clue.’

‘I suppose you don’t know what you want for dinner either?’ I ask. ‘You barely remembered to eat lunch.’

‘I would have remembered if someone didn’t convince me to take an early afternoon nap with them,’ Kenma says pointedly. ‘Sorry for keeping you up last night.’

I avoid his eyes, recalling the previous night’s events. ‘It was worth staying up for.’

Laughter lit up his expression as a blush creeps over my skin. He kneels down next to me in grey sweatpants and a dark red hoodie, looking cozier than ever. ‘We should really give her a name soon.’ He says.

‘What about yuki?’ I ask. ‘Because she’s got white fur, like snow.’

Kenma gestures for the ribbon, I give it to him, our fingers brush against each other softly. His hands are warm and inviting and get those thoughts out of your head, YN.

‘Not a bad idea,’ he says. He dangles the ribbon for the kitten, watching with a tug at his lips. ‘What about Kumo?’

‘Cloud?’

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s cute, too,’ I say. ‘She is fluffy, like a cloud.’

‘I don’t think that’s how clouds work,’ Kenma laughs. ‘But you’re not wrong, she is fluffy.’

‘She jumps so damn high,’ I remark. ‘Be careful of her claws – kittens have actual razors attached to their paws.’

‘She got me while I was napping the other day,’ Kenma drags the ribbon back and forth over the grey carpet. ‘I have a scratch on my foot that’s like three inches long. It hurt like hell.’

‘Oh no, did you disinfect it?’

‘I just went back to sleep,’ Kenma replies with a shrug.

‘Of course, you did,’ I laugh.

He continues to drag the ribbon, alternating with lines and circles and yanking it into the air, just out of the kitten’s reach. She jumps and twists in vain attempts to capture her prey, a wild beast in the middle of our living room, completely unaware of Kenma and I watching her hunt. I look to Kenma and see his growing smile and the complete fondness for the kitten in his eyes. The warmth of the scene is enough to make my eyes water, and I realize that this is the kind of moment people write poetry about; a moment that I would very much like to snapshot and live in forever.

‘I love you.’

‘Huh?’

The words pull me out of my zone, and I’m staring at him with widened eyes.

Kenma turns his head a fraction to look at me, a tiny smile on his lips.

‘I said, I love you.’

‘It never fails to surprise me when you say that,’ I breathe.

Kenma frowns, jerking the ribbon over the kitten, watching it follow the bait across the floor. ‘I’ve been saying it for years,’ he replies. ‘Aren’t you going to say it back?’

‘You idiot,’ I laugh. ‘Of course! I love you, too.’

‘More than Kumo?’

‘Okay let’s not push it, tiger,’ I roll my eyes playfully. 'What do you want for dinner?’

Kenma shrugs, continuing to play with the kitten. She jumps up and clamps her tiny jaws around the ribbon, pulling it and his arm down. ‘Let’s order takeout.’

‘And play a game together?’

‘You really do love me,’ Kenma nudges my arm. His eyes sparkle an unusually bright gold, a warmth emanating from him that I didn’t notice before. He stands and holds out a hand to me, his other hand carrying the tiny kitten. ‘C’mon then, pretty girl. Our cat child needs feeding, too, help me?’

Yes, this is not unlike most nights, but I wouldn’t dream of living any other life than this.

masterlist

#kenma #kenma kozume #kenma x reader #kenma x yn #kenma x you #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu one shot #domestic haikyuu #haikyuu reader insert

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lablass-2882 · 2 years

Text

Seasoned to Taste

This is one of fastest freaking fics that I have ever wrote! Well.... that’s kind of a lie, cause I started writing this over my lunch break today at work. It’s a crack Jayce x Viktor fic with major cannon breaks and basically no plot. Just a lot of fluff.

Plus they have a kid now!

A tiny little girl named Alexandria.

Viktor named her. Jayce calls her Lexi.

Anyway..... enjoy my crack fic idea.

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Hey Vik, I could use a hand in here.

Jayce's voice echoed throughout their home and into Viktor's quiet study. Viktor couldn't help but chuckle at his husband's whine tone.

You said that you could handle this yourself, he answered back softly.

Yeah..... well..... I'm not so sure now. Jayce retorted; the urgency in his voice amused Viktor endlessly. It was rare to see Jayce flustered or worked up even. His bravado was more than just a show and he wore it well. Far better than Viktor ever could.

But... the funny thing about bravado was how easy it could be humbled.

And from his husband's whines, it sounded like he had reached that point.

Viktor rose from his desk slowly. Taking great care to make sure that the project that he had been tinkering with was at a good stopping point, before he grabbed his cane. He was in no rush after all. Whatever had his husband so worked up could wait for Viktor to reach the kitchen.

In the meantime, Jayce continued he whines.

Vik! I’m serious here.

I know, I know. I’m coming.... you big oof.

Yeah, yeah.... you’re enjoying this, aren’t you.

Jayce grumbled as Viktor entered the kitchen. Seated at the opposite end of a simple wooden table, was a frustrated Jayce and their tiny three-year-old daughter.

Viktor suppressed another chuckle at the sight in front of him. On one end sat Jayce with a tried and dissolved look on his face. He never wore failure well. Viktor muses. And on the other end sat their stubborn and defiant daughter in her bright pink booster seat. Sloughing low and a bitter scowl written all over her face. In between the two sat the source of the problem.

A small child-sized plate filled with green and brown mush.

I'm guessing the plan didn't work? Viktor questioned with a raised brow.

Nope...... not even a single bite. Jayce sighed; his eyes glued to the small plate of.... whatever it was....

Their daughter's response was a simple scowl and a out stretched tongue.

Viktor chuckled and grabbed the offending plate from the middle of the table. He knew that Jayce’s plan would never work. While Jayce may claim to have a worldly and refined taste plate, their daughter had other ideas when it came to food.

Mostly ideas of dinosaur-shaped kind.

Jayce’s mother had said that he was a picky eater as a child but eventually grew out of it as their family traveled around Runeterra. Alexandria, on the other hand, took it to a whole new level.

Most meals were a battle of wills to get her to eat at all. A battle, that Jayce whole-heartily took head-on.

And was currently losing.

Much to Viktor’s amusement.

Here, Viktor said softly, let's see if a variable change will help.

She has to eat something, Vik.

Nnnnnnoooooooo!!! Lexi shouted with a drawn-out whine.

Lexi, no shouting sweetie. Jayce sighed into his hand.

I told you She would like this.... this... what even is this, Jayce. Viktor gestured to the lump of steamed leaves and brown mush.

Spinach and Quinoa, the grocery at the food market said that her kids loved it.

Bless the Lady above, I don't like this crap. Viktor cursed under his breath as he tossed the mush in the trash.

Ah! Little Ears Vik!

mmmmhhhhhhhh, Lexi groaned. She was getting cranky and was trying to fidget her way out of her booster seat.

Lexi......sweetie......

Jayce started to lecture before Viktor interrupted him. Why don't we try this instead? Viktor held up a small plastic cup with a red and white label.

Instant Potatoes? Really Vik?

You never know, she might like it.

Why do you even keep that in the cabinet? I can just make you mashed potatoes.

Viktor rolled his eyes.

His husband hated instant foods. Calling them cheap and filled with all manor preservatives. He wasn’t wrong, but....... Viktor could barely make toast in the morning without burning it. So... instant would have to do.

It only takes a minute.....

I don’t know about this.

Jayce expressed his concerns as Viktor placed the cup in the microwave and set the timer to one minute.

He had heard all Jayce’s complaints before. Back in their college days, Viktor practically lived off of instant ramen and other such meals. They were quick and easy, but more importantly, cheap.

Jayce nearly had a heart attack when he saw the state of Viktor’s kitchen for the first time. Viktor never really put much thought into the poor place. Why would he? It was a tiny dorm with a small kitchenette, all he needed was a microwave and a coffeemaker.

Jayce, on the other hand, had more expensive taste. His first apartment had two bedrooms, a full bath, and a well-stock kitchen ready for whatever sparked his fancy. Jayce was practically forced to feed him with homecooked meals and fancy dinners for a month after they first met.

Viktor smirked, as much as his husband hated to admit it, he was a complete mother hen. Always had been and always would be.

Which, is why he’s having such a hard time with little Lexi and her picky taste.

The microwave ding and Viktor retrieved the small cup. He gave it a quick stir and placed a portion of it into a small bowl.

I still don’t know Vik...

Oh hush, Viktor said as he blew on a spoonful of the food. Okay, Lexi.... do you want to try some yummy potatoes? Papa likes them.

No, he doesn’t. Jayce snarked.

Shush.

Lexi eyed up her fathers with a scowl. Switching between staring at them and the spoonful of white mush in front of her. Her growling stomach eventually winning out over her stubbornness. Ever so slowly, she took the spoon to try the mush.

Viktor and Jayce held their breath as the small girl chewed. After a minute that felt like an eternity, she swallowed and nodded.

Yummy...... More, please.

They both laughed in relief at their daughter’s response. Jayce just shook his head as Viktor handed the small bowl to his daughter. Her tiny hands digging into the fluffy mess with vigor.

I don’t know how you do it. Jayce sighed.

It’s a gift. Viktor shrugged.

Well... I guess we’ll be eating the quinoa for supper tonight.

Viktor rolled his eyes.

Great.......

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Like I said. No plot, just a lot of fluff and some cute moments with these two idiot scientist and their one small child.

Peace out Y’all.

#arcane #arcane fluff #jayce talis #viktor league of legends #jayce league of legends #jayce/viktor #fan-child #ocs #fluffy #crack fic #Lexi has the pickiest damn taste #She just so stubborn #she gets it naturally #I'm mean have you meet her dads?#Jayce is a good cook #Viktor can burn water #Modern-ish au #League of Legends

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

The Small Acts

1924

Clara rested her chin on her knees, arms wrapped tight around her legs as Polly finished weaving her damp hair into a braid. She had been tender with the brushing and the plaiting, something the woman often wasn't when dealing with Clara’s long tresses, but Polly knew it wasn't time for tough love or rough handling. Her niece needed to be coddled a bit. She needed to be a girl and not the nearly grown woman she imagined herself to be.

A few moments after she finished, Polly tapped a foot into Clara's side, prompting the girl up from the carpet when she seemed not to notice the ritual was through, her gaze lost in the fireplace while her mind, Polly assumed, was still a bit trapped in Warwickshire.

Clara reluctantly climbed onto the cushion beside her aunt, wrapping herself tightly in her borrowed robe as she drew her legs to her chest. Clara's stomach had been unsettled since she arrived, before that even, her nerves frayed by the time she arrived at the halfway point between Warwickshire and Sutton Coldfield, once the adrenaline borne of her row with Tommy finally subsided. It had all happened right around the same time that the rain started to come.

"He's gonna murder me," Clara said, the first decent string of words she had put together since coming out of the bath.

The bath had been at Polly's insistence, because Clara had been chilled to the bone when she showed up on Polly's doorstep in the middle of the night and because Polly needed a moment without Clara's presence to have a frank phone call with Tommy. And most of all, Polly hoped the bath would calm Clara's sputtering tears, same as it often had when she was a small child.

Polly could see now that the bath had helped Clara in a way, had at least dealt a bit with the cold bones. But while she was calmer, and very much quiet, Polly thought Clara seemed less soothed and more numb than anything else so Polly decided it would be time, then, that would ultimately make it better. She had been suspecting it for weeks, that her niece and nephew both needed a bit of time apart.

Tommy hadn't seemed particularly soothed by the call informing him his sister was safe at Polly's, his voice clipped and methodical as they sorted through the particulars. Sure, Polly had noted a certain measure of relief in her nephew at hearing she was present and accounted for, but the relief was quickly cast aside, and a certain gruffness returned to his tone. Polly couldn't help but think his tone wasn't just from the itch to shout at the girl for making the three-hour hike out to Polly's on her own in the middle of the night, though that certainly would have been enough to warrant it.

"Is he on his way?" Clara finally pulled her eyes from the fire and looked to her aunt.

"No." Polly moved the brush from the couch beside her to the end table, noticing the way Clara's shoulders had slumped a bit. "I told him to leave it for the night. It's already late. And an evening apart will do you some good."

Tommy would have been out to collect her directly after the phone call if Polly had allowed it. He intended for his sister to finish out the evening under his roof, in her own bed. He intended on seeing to it that his sister spent her evenings there for the foreseeable future, actually, but Polly put him off, delaying his collection until the following morning. She said it was on account of the storm and the hour, but it was also on account of the fact that Polly Gray didn't want to release her niece to her brother's care quite so soon, not with Clara in her current state and Tommy being as he was.

"But—"

"They'll be fine. Your brother is a grown man and Charles has his father and a whole staff to look after him."

An argument was already well-formed in Clara's head, even before Polly's interruption, because Clara and Tommy spent plenty of time apart these days, largely at her brother's behest. And after Polly's words, Clara couldn't quite dispel the swell of anxiety at the idea of her nephew being looked after by someone other than her. She knew on some level that Mary was entirely capable of caring for the boy, and under normal circumstances, her brother was quite capable too, but it had been Clara reading him bedtime stories and tucking him in every night since Grace's death, answering his late-night calls and soothing the bad dreams with her off-tune humming before the staff woke. And Clara hated herself a bit for not being there now.

"I know you worry after him, but it's not your job to mother."

Clara was sixteen, but Polly still saw a child when she looked at her. She saw one of the two babies she’d raised almost from birth, having done more nurturing of Clara and Finn than she’d done of her other niece and nephews, more rearing of the twins than she’d done even of her own two children. And though Clara and Polly rarely fought on subjects relating to the girl growing older as Clara and Tommy did, there were moments when it did make Polly a bit sentimental.

“And that can go for either one of them,” Polly added. “You’re a sister and an aunt, and there’s no expectation for you to be more than that.”

When Polly was sixteen, before that even, she had been helping her older brother’s wife to mother her niece and nephews, cleaning up after Arthur Sr.’s messes. By twenty-five, when her sister-in-law passed, Polly was tending to the responsibilities he left behind on Watery Lane, the business and the brood he had never helped with, the family he never deserved.

The relationship between Polly and her brother had been dissimilar in every way from that between Clara and Tommy, but Polly knew intimately the nature of the girl’s pain. She understood what tugged at Clara’s heart when she heard her brother wasn’t coming to bring her home. She knew how a bit of innocent worry could nag even when one’s heart was filled with rage or in Polly’s case, hate. Polly knew what it was feeling compelled to fill a void for motherless children and for a moment, the circular nature of life struck her.

“Same as you, then?” Clara said, the notion striking her at the same moment. “A sister and aunt, mothering when it’s not her job.”

Polly sighed. “That was different, love.”

Clara knew her aunt was at least partly right. It was different. Charles had a father and Tommy had resources. She could meet nothing more than the minimum requirements of sister and aunt and Tommy and Charles would certainly be fine. Clara wasn't sure the same could be said if Polly hadn't stepped in to raise them, especially during the war.

"I shouldn't have run."

"Probably not," Polly said. It had been a hot-headed response, not one of the well-thought-out reactions Polly was used to seeing from the girl, but she was grieving and rowing with her brother, and a bit of impulsivity could be expected under such circumstances. "But there's no use in troubling over that now."

Polly figured Tommy would give her plenty of time to trouble over the insensibility of her choices later. There was no need to discuss them with her now.

"I shouldn't have bothered you so late."

Polly waved her off. "It's okay, love. I couldn't sleep anyway." She pulled Clara closer. "Now, come here." Polly maneuvered the girl so Clara's head rested in her aunt's lap and settled a blanket over her. "You know it's never too late to bother your Aunt Polly." She cleared her throat, her tone a bit sharper. "Unless you're bringing me nonsense, in which case, you can take that right to one of your brothers or your sister and leave me out of it."

Clara nearly smiled, the both of them looking at the flames of the fireplace while Polly rubbed her hand up and down the girl's arm. Despite her aunt's pointed tone, Clara knew Polly would never turn her away. Not if it was midnight or if she brought the woman nothing but nonsense or got herself into some sort of real trouble or ran out on her brother in the middle of the night. In sixteen years of late-night intrusions, grand tantrums, difficult questions, and bits of heartbreaking melancholy, Polly had never turned Clara away without providing something, whether it be a bit of love or wisdom or strength.

They were the small acts of Polly's self-conscripted mothering that Clara had always taken for granted, but she recognized them for what they were now.

"You're a good mother."

It was the type of comment Polly would usually shrug off, announcing that she wasn't the kids' mother, claiming she was just an aunt doing her duty, stepping in when the kids had no one else, but she didn't fight Clara's mumbled declaration now.

The comment actually left Polly unable to speak for a moment, so she squeezed her niece's arm instead, blinking away the wetness in her eyes, grateful Clara's head was still in her lap, her face turned to the fire while Polly regained her composure.

"Alright, love,” Polly said. “It's late. You get some rest now."

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Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #shelby!sister #shelby sister #polly gray #clara shelby #little lady blinder #I love you prompts #300 follower celebration

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dreamywriterinthedark · 3 years

Text

Losing you pt III: Picking up the pieces

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Category: angst, slight fluff.

Resume: Reader struggles to get over a traumatic experience and isolates themselves. They have an outburst, Spencer finds them in the middle of it and offers a helping hand.

Trigger warnings: death, blood, trauma, anger issues, alcohol (please let me know of something was forgotten)

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this series. Let me know if you like it or what you would like to see. This is what would’ve happened if Linda Barnes was leader of the team. I’m guessing this is a bit of homage to Elle who deserved better. I would love to hear your feedback and whether you want a fourth part. Thanks <3

You slipped off your blind fold, your calmness was interrupted by the broad figure in front of your eyes. The hooded man slowly made his way towards you.

“Please, don’t kill me!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. He looked at you with such viciousness as if he was planning all the horrendous things he was going to do to you in his head. You rose up panting from another hostile episode slapping the light switch of the lamp on your nightstand.

You were on your bed completely exhausted yet wide awake. You could not allow yourself to sleep because every time you did you woke up in sweats due hallucinations and nightmares. You could not differentiate what was real and what was an illusion anymore. You walked to your kitchen pouring yourself a glass of water, your hands were so shaky you dropped the glass and flenched at the sound. By trying to pick up the pieces you cut your hand, the sight of blood on your hands brought you back to that night when you almost died and your boss hardly bat an eye.

Your vision was getting blurred whether it was your brain making you depersonalise or your tears clouding your view you couldn’t tell. You were uncontrollably sobbing. That’s when it hit you, you needed help. You hated yourself for it, it flet like you were a burden. However, you felt guilt creep in furthermore when you saw your phone light up with all the texts, all the calls you ignored making the team even more worried. You swiped the notification from your 13 missed calls making your phone call Spencer. You felt a rush go through your vein, a rush to abort whatever mission you were on, the rush to flight. The kind of rush that could’ve saved your life.

After two rings you hung up feeling stupid, now wondering if you woke him up for nothing. You slammed your phone on your kitchen counter. The anger levels spiking, overtaking the small amount of rational thoughts in your head. You sighed running your hands through your hair. Completely numb, more and more glass shattered on the floor. Once the energy was in too limited quantity in your body. You grabbed a bottle of wine chugging from it in your bathtub like a child trying to avoid family gatherings. You cried until you were too dehydrated to keep the tears flowing, until your eyes were swollen.

The ring of your doorbell caught your attention. Or was it another cruel hallucination ? You were going to ignore it until you heard it be rung once more. You checked who it was through the lense.

“Shit,” you swore, it was Spencer.

“Open the door, Y/n. I know you’re here.” you rolled your eyes at Spencer’s request your back pressed against the cold steel.

“I’m a mess.” you responded trying to dissuade him to come in.

“Your mess is my mess. I’m your home, remember ?”

You smiled detaching yourself from the door unlocking it. He pressed the handle letting his weight make the door shift open. You were brushing with a broom the glass pieces to the side to allow him to circulate safely in your apartment. He saw the blood on your floor, the bandage on your hand; he solved the puzzle himself. You turned to him, no words were needed, he saw the look in your eyes. He cupped the back of your head with one of his hands and wrapped his arm around your torso carefully, gently as if you were as fragile as fine china. You wrapped your arms around his waist breathing in his scent. He pulled away, both hands at the side of your head.

“I want to be that person you can tell anything to. The good and the bad.”

You looked up at him. “Barnes is considering suspending me because I did not follow his orders. Spencer, I had no choice…” he could hear your heart break in your voice.

“She’s not allowed to do this.” He informed you.

“She’s not ?” He nodded in response.

“She violated protocole in the first place by using governmental fund for a case too personal to him. He got his proof only by putting you in a position of danger when she needed it to act. Like you said you had no other choice. I’ve done it before, I was never reprimanded me.”

“Yeah cause you’re a man. If a man kills a rapist, he’s a hero but if a woman does it, she’s a cold-blooded crazy murderer. Gosh, I miss Emily.”

“Talk about double standards.” Spencer said, “You know, she misses you too, we all do.”

“I doubt it, honestly. I was so determined to get her validation it almost cost me my life. Maybe I should just let her know how I feel.”

“Yeah, you definitely should.”

“But what am I even gonna say to her ? What if she’s right ? What if I’m actually delusional or dangerous ?”

“Hey, hey, Y/n. Slow down.”

“Please talk some sense to me. It’s like I’m going out of my mind!”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was legitimate defence. I saw it, the whole team saw it and has your back.” he reassured you, his face closer to yours.

“Should I write her a-“

“No, you’re not doing anything tonight.” He interrupted you. “Just go take a shower then we can talk about it. Sounds good ?” you nodded to respond to him which he, as usual didn’t mind even after going on an endless monologue.

While you were in the shower, he cleaned up the mess your anger made. Once you were done, you sat down on your matcha green sofa watching the sunrise. “It’s already 4am ?! I’m so sorry for keeping you awake.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a night owl anyways so it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Did you know that falling asleep late is linked with a high IQ ?” he said making his way to you with two cups of tea.

“Then I must be a genius.” you answered half jokingly. “Oh thank you.” you took hold of the warm but not steamy cup in your hands. You remembered Spencer once telling you that the reason why so many dislike tea is because they think it tastes like dirt, it’s not supposed taste like that, see, if the water is burning hot it’s going to burn the leaves and speed the infusion process making it too concentrated. You turned to look at him, he was already looking.

“Sometimes I wonder how you can put up with me.”

“Because I love you.” He never failed to remind you how much he loves you even especially on your worst days. You explained what had been going on, he debunked and dismantled every question pending in you head, every lie your brain told you. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. For the first time in a while, you felt safe in your own home. Instead of your alarm clock, the sound of the birds were ringing in you ears. You both agreed to go talk to Barnes to solve whatever the problem was that morning. “I’m not going down without a fight, especially not when it comes to that bitch!” Spencer boldly commented to your surprise. You weren’t healed just yet but at least you got out and socialised. At least you opened up to someone you could trust.

You stepped out of the elevator one hand holding coffee, the other holding your boyfriend’s hand. Everyone walked up to you giving you a hug and greeting you. Penelope was so enthusiastic it was overwhelming.

“Long time no see,” commented Luke. “You too,” you hugged him back.

“What happened to your hand ?” asked JJ.

“I dropped a glass.” you nervously responded, you were telling the truth…at least part of it.

“Welcome back!” said Tara squeezing an embrace as well.

“Oh I don’t know about that just yet.” you said to her.

“We need to talk to Barnes first.” added Spencer.

“Whatever happens, we’re with you, Y/n” said Garcia. The others agreed, it felt good to be supported, so much you regret isolating yourself for so long.

Silence made its way into a conversation that was once filled by joy. You threw your coffee in the trash can before turning your body towards his office. Spencer, resting his hand on your back, asked “Are you ready, darling ?” You took in a deep breath sharply, nodding your head yes without taking your gaze off the door.

#criminal minds #fluff #imagine #spencer #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fluff #angst #y/n #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer x y/n #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #cbs #fbi cbs #emotional

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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

Headcanons: The Ages of Cats

After giving it some thought, I arranged the Cats in the 1998 Film from what I see as youngest to oldest. I’ll give their ages as “like a human at around X years old”, though I’ve tried to calculate it in years a cat might’ve actually lived as well.

I mostly wanted to write this to demonstrate how Cats shows every stage of life as a sort of theme:

Jemima: 12-13

I consider the Jellicle Ball to be a sort of PG-13 event that very young kittens usually don’t attend. They’d have difficulty staying up all night for it, even if they slept during the day. Even adult cats in their prime sleep a lot and kittens need even more sleep than adults do.

So, Jemima is just barely at the minimum age to attend. She’s not as far along in puberty as the other kittens, though she has the same crush on Tugger that the other girls do. It’s not quite as sexual, more about how cool he is.

Jemima contrasts with Grizabella by being the very youngest, a child with a full life ahead of her. She’s at the beginning of the cycle that Grizabella’s at the end of.

Etcetera, Pouncival, and Victoria: 16

These three all come from the same litter. They all have a bit more of a connection to Jellylorum than the other kittens do, so they’re her litter. They’re maturity varies, but they’re all hormonal teenagers, while also sometimes still acting like children. They’re also close enough to Jemima in age that she can fit in as one of their group.

Electra and Tumblebrutus: 17

I don’t know if they’re the same litter or not, but they’re a step ahead of the others. Electra and Etcetera are often seen together, as are Tumblebrutus and Pouncival, so they can be compared. In the female pair, Electra is quieter and more behaved than Etcetera, who is often a bit out of control. In the male pair, Tumblebrutus can talk Pouncival into doing stupid things (most of which involve bullying Grizabella). Electra and Tumblebrutus are still very much kittens, but they feel slightly older than some of the others.

Plato: 18

Out of all the kittens, he’s the only one whose kitten status is up for debate. I basically see him as being like a high school senior who’s already turned 18 while his classmates are still 17. Victoria is the junior whom he invited to the senior prom. They’re still both kids, but there’s a slight difference.

Mistoffelees, Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer, George: Late teens or early 20s.

These four are all old enough to be considered adults, but they act like kittens half the time anyway. Your average college undergrad is only slightly more mature than your average high school senior. George isn’t very prominent, so I can’t say much about him, but, Mistoffelees is the sort of Barely Adult who really wants to prove that he’s an Adult™, while Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer weren’t ready to grow up when it happened and would rather just be kids.

Alonzo, Cassandra, Coricopat, Tantomile, Tugger: Mid to late 20s.

These five are a bit more established as adults, but they seem a little less mature than some of the other adults. Alonzo basically acts as Munkustrap’s apprentice, still looking for someone older to take the lead. Cassandra, as his love interest, I would assume to be his age. She is kind of immature in the way she treats Grizabella. Coricopat and Tantomile, despite their wise mystic status, when they’re doing anything other than being psychic, they’re a bit silly. Coricopat is on the same level as Mungojerrie when it comes to girls. When Munkustrap is hurt while fighting Macavity, Tantomile is the only adult nearby and she freezes up. Also, during Macavity’s number, she reacts to some of what’s said as if she doesn’t know who Macavity is.

As for Tugger, he’s an adult who’s still young enough to be the Obnoxious Little Brother of the tribe, but he demonstrates maturity when it’s needed. He knows How to Adult; he just usually doesn’t bother.

Bombalurina, Demeter, Macavity, Munkustrap: 30s

They’re just adults, neither young nor old. Bombalurina is a bit immature, enough to fit in with Tugger, but I hc her as Demeter’s sister, who’s closer in age to Munkustrap. She also knows more of what’s going on with Grizabella and Macavity than the five mentioned above.

We don’t see much of Macavity, so he’s hard to place, but I also try to put him at Demeter’s age. Munkustrap and Macavity are good and evil twins, basically.

These four are the youngest cats that might possibly have children.

Bustopher Jones and Jennyanydots: 40s

These two are mature cats, clearly on the older side of the cast, but Bustopher is, at least by his own standards, still in his prime and Jenny is very busy and active. They’re old enough that their age is starting to show a bit, and Bustopher’s obesity might shorten his lifespan, but it also might not.

Asparagus Jr. and Jellylorum: 50s

They seem more obviously middle-aged. Jelly’s most recent litter of kittens, which probably wasn’t her first, will probably be her last, though cats don’t have menopause, so who knows.

Honestly, I can’t figure out much about Asparagus, but he seems to be Jelly’s age.

Perhaps the casting of the 98 film is what makes me see Jellylorum as a bit older. I don’t know. But, she carries authority, enough to seem to be involved in Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy’s conference to make the Jellicle Choice! She’s also reached the age where parents and adults that were adults when she was a child are beginning to get old and die off. She spends a lot of time with Gus, knowing that there isn’t much time left.

Skimbleshanks: Early to Mid 60s.

You might be wondering why I made him older than the other mature cats. Well, there’s something I noticed about Skimble that I haven’t seen anyone else point out: He’s retired.

The lyrics to his song are all in the past tense, talking about not just individual incidents, but the general routine of the train as being something of the past. He speaks of the railway in the same way that Gus speaks of the theatre, just with more energy. He’s young enough to still have that energy, but he’s not working anymore. He might’ve retired so he could spend more time with his family. The middle-aged cats, too old for physical labor but too young to be considered old, are the ones who raise the children. Perhaps that’s how Jellicle society works. “Working” cats who retire become homemakers and look after the kittens and seniors.

Grizabella: Late 60s or Early 70s.

Grizabella is old enough to be considered old, but she’s closer in age to Skimble than to Gus. She’s in worse physical conditions than Gus, because Gus is well taken care of and Grizabella has been living alone on the streets. She’s old enough to have lived a long life, but she’s also been prematurely aged by circumstance. Because of her health, she gets bumped ahead of Gus on the list for the Heaviside Layer.

Gus: 80s or 90s

Gus is old enough that he needs to be taken care of and shows signs of dementia. He’s had the chance to live a long, happy life, though. Hopefully, he’ll make it one more year to be the next Jellicle Choice.

Old Deuteronomy: So ancient that no one would dare to guess

He basically transcends the laws of age.

So, in conclusion, the cast shows us childhood, puberty, coming of age, taking on more responsibilities as an adult, aging, retirement, old age, and eventually death and rebirth.

#cats musical #cats 1998 #i did an essay #i don't want to tag every single character

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